The Brick Piano Is Nothing Like Par and Uncle Elvis

Perdita Whacknoodle, dog poet and dog writerI have been a bit absent from my own blog, lately, because I have been a very busy dog. And my scribe, who purports to be helping with my books and other writings, CLAIMS he has other things to do.

I think he needs to prioritize his priorities. I should come first. THAT is obvious.

You may be one of the lucky people who got a free copy of my little Christmas offering, the two Christmas stories for the Kindle, or Kinnel, or Klondike, or whatever you humans call that thing with the books in it. Even though Christmas is past, you can still get that book. It’s not free any more, but it’s stunningly cheap. Worth every bit of the ninety-nine cents, too.Perdita Whacknoodle Christmas Book Cover

It seems that over 7,500 people around the world got my Christmas stories for their Kindles, which gives me a nice warm feeling. I’m a happy dog-author to know that people in Japan and France and Canada are benefiting from my stories and thoughts. My plan is to slowly improve the world, until humans are as well-adjusted and happy as dogs.

Of course, working with humans is frustrating and slow, so I try to keep my hopes in bounds.

Incredibly, my scribe has another blob, or blog, or whatever you call this thing, for one of his other activities, which is bang on the piano for people. Don’t ask me why.

He does not appear to know my favorite song, which is “Bury the Bone Deep, Boys, Winter is a’ Comin On,” an old family favorite and a beautiful song that’s widely known by dogs everywhere. In my opinion, if you don’t know “Bury the Bone Deep, Boys,” you’re not much of a musician.

But, for all his faults, my scribe HAS introduced me to the readers of his other blob, which he calls The Brick Piano for some reason. (If your piano was made of bricks, then you couldn’t play it, could you? But, as I often say, there’s just no accounting for humans. You can’t figure them out. Don’t even try.)

But, just think . . . IF my scribe’s piano were actually made of bricks, we might all be better off. Because nothing he plays sounds good to me, and brick keys would slow him down, for sure.

In fact, NO human song can equal the stunningly beautiful, hauntingly mournful sounds of my dear father, Par Whack, and his friend Uncle Elvis, singing their hearts out on “Bury the Bone Deep, Boys!” Elvis is a hound with a truly exceptional low voice, and once you’ve heard them sing . . . well, a mere piano just has nothing to offer.

But, as I was saying, the readers of The Brick Piano now know about me, so my uplifting fame is spreading far and wide. They can even buy my books!

And that makes me even happier. Almost as happy has having a nice scratch behind the ears.

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Happy New Ear? I HOPE So!

Perdita Whacknoodle, dog poet and dog writerAs your dog author and commentator, I try to point out odd things that humans do.

Of course, there are SO many odd human things that I hardly know where to begin, but I will point out what I have been hearing all day.

Humans keep saying “Happy New Ear!” to each other. They say it to everyone they meet. I find this mystifying.

So I ponder, what could this mean? “Happy New Ear,” they say. Over and over. “Happy New Ear.”

I have concluded that humans KNOW that their ears are almost worthless, compared to ours. (I am not saying this to make you feel bad. I’m simply pointing out the obvious.)

Sometimes I don’t even think my humans can hear at all, because they try to shush me when I’m just responding to the evening bark-around from way down the street. They don’t hear crickets. They don’t hear cats walking by. The NEVER hear Roscoe’s beautiful evening howl from two streets over.

Thus, I have concluded that you humans need new ears!

So . . . could it be . . . could it possibly be that humans will somehow actually GET new ears today? I’m not sure how that would work, but I think it would help a lot.

And after that, maybe they can get some Happy New Noses. Goodness knows, I’ve never met a human who could smell a squirrel from a foot away!

I will watch, hope, and report!

In the meantime, Happy New Ear to everyone from Perdita Whacknoodle, dog author, writing from the big back yard.

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A Dog Looks at Christmas . . . and Humans

A Dog Looks at Christmas . . .  and Humans

 As a dog writer, I’m a keen observer of the world around me. This ranges from bugs and squirrels to humans.

Perdita Whacknoodle, dog poet and dog writerAs odd and unpredictable as bugs and squirrels may be, I find humans to be much more mystifying. As I often say in my books, “You just can’t understand humans. It’s not possible.”

As a leading dog thinker and writer, I believe it is my duty to try, no matter how difficult such observations may be.

So I have watched and listened during what humans call ‘The Christmas Season,’ which seems to extend from the end of summer until now. But I do not believe it is a real season, like summer or winter.

I believe it is another made-up human concoction. My question is why.

Therefore, I am applying my massive brain-power to this subject, and I have come up with some observations. To make it simple for my human readers, I will list what I have observed and then I will note my comments, as a dog philosopher.

1. There is great human excitement at, around, about, and approaching Christmas.

MY COMMENT: People seem to get excited by the strangest things, including commercials on TV. Dogs are excited by actual things, like sounds and smells.

2. There is a lot of talk about being happy and sharing things at Christmas.

MY COMMENT: When I ride in the car with my humans during Christmas, I hear a lot of people blowing their horns and saying very ugly things to each other. And there is a LOT of traffic. My humans mutter about finding a parking place.

Dogs do not TALK about being happy. We just ARE happy.

3. There is a lot of human talk about love among all people at Christmastime. But from what I hear on TV (and I do watch the news when I can stand it), I do not see a lot of love anywhere.

MY COMMENT: Dogs to not waste time TALKING about how we feel. We simplify. We wag, growl, or bite. Very direct. We do not need to enhance our self-esteem by talking about how good we are. Just wag, growl, or bite. Then move on.

Remember this principle: Wag. Growl. Or Bite. Then Move On

4. Humans seem to do a LOT of shopping. I watch my humans worry about shopping, plan to go shopping, go shopping, worry about how much they’ve bought, worry about whether they forgot someone, haul stuff back from shopping.

Later, I watch them return all the things they don’t want.

MY COMMENT: You will never see a dog waste time shopping. If we need anything, our humans will provide it for us, or we just go get it for ourselves via the popular snatch-and-run. We dogs are therefore free to enjoy life. (In my own case, of course, I am also free to think and write.)

5. At Christmas, humans do a lot of decorating of everything from the house to the yard to the car. As I said in my little book of Christmas stories, Farmer even put a wrath on the front of his tractor Farmer Puts a Wrath on His Tractorat Christmas. (But it didn’t stop him from firing wildly at Par after the mashed potato explosion.)

My Comment: I do not understand why humans haul stuff out of the attic, scatter it around the house, and then put it back in the attic. If it is so pretty, why don’t you leave it out all the time?

As for the yard, my famous father,Par, had quite an experience with those blow-up Christmas decorations when he and his canine singing unit (aka “The Twelve Dogs of Christmas”) tried to bring Christmas cheer to the people of Dahlonegee. You’ve probably read my story, so you know what happened.

It was not Par’s fault.

6. A lot of trees are killed and dragged inside people’s homes, where humans then humiliate the poor trees even more by hanging all kinds of stuff on them (as if the trees NEED decorations!). I believe this is an exceptionally odd custom, and will require more study.

MY COMMENT: Why? I think trees look perfectly good in the woods. And they are still alive.

7. A lot of the things that are bought in stores are taken home and then bandaged up in fancy paper (which is also bought in stores!). THEN, the paper is ripped off, wadded up, and thrown away.

MY COMMENT: It would be simpler and quicker just to throw away the money, and you wouldn’t have to go to the store, find a parking place, spend money on fancy paper, bandage up the gifts, and then throw away all that expensive wropping paper. I believe it would also be easier on the trash collectors.

8. I have observed that humans cook a LOT of food, have a LOT of parties, and eat a LOT more food at Christmas. Then they worry and worry about how much they ate, so they “go on a diet.”

THEN, they worry about not staying on their diet. I am mystified by this.

MY COMMENT: We dogs eat when we are hungry, which is quite often, but we stop when we have had enough. What’s the problem? Why don’t humans do the same?

I do not understand the concept of “going on a diet.” This requires more study.

9. Some humans seem to be sad at Christmas.

MY COMMENT: Since we dogs do not pretend to be extra happy (or pretend to be anything else), at Christmas, we do not have any false expectations to confuse us. So we don’t get depressed when the real world does not live up to our ideal.

We just look around, see what’s what, and go on from there. Nice system. It works.

10. I can tell that the humans DO enjoy Christmas, they DO have fun, they DO enjoy being together, and they DO even enjoy the gifts they give each other. But there is so much fol-de-rol involved that I’m surprised that they can enjoy it at all.

MY COMMENT: Maybe humans should study dogs the same way I study humans. Learn from the magnificently balanced way we live our lives, study how we enjoy every moment of every day, and quit doing all the extra stuff.

If humans would simply settle down in a comfortable place (I recommend the floor in front of the fireplace), scratch behind their ears, yawn, and take a quick nap, eat some simple food when hungry, sing a few Christmas songs, and romp in the yard, I believe you all would be much, much happier. A back rub never hurts, either.

And we dogs never hesitate to show how much we love our humans, and how excited we are to see them. We do not calculate, ponder, hold grudges, worry about motives, or remember bad things from the past. We don’t do any of that. We just wag, growl, or bite, and then move on.

Perdita Whacknoodle Christmas Book CoverI recommend that you humans watch us and learn.

Of course, to judge from what humans are saying in their reviews, one way to be happier is to read my books of stories about my unusual dog family. They say you’ll smile, and I say that is ALWAYS good!

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Hooray! My Book is STILL Number One–and STILL Free!

Perdita Whacknoodle, dog poet and dog writerChristmas has gone, and I am STILL a happy, happy dog-author.

That is because thousands and thousands of people around the world have gotten my new Christmas stories for their Kindles (or Klondels or Klondikes or whatever you call those things).

And the book has been NUMBER ONE on Amazon for most of the last week. So, I am therefore an EVEN happier dog!

I am still so filled with the Christmas spirit of giving, that my wonderful Christmas stories, over which I labored many long nights, and which revPerdita Whacknoodle Christmas Book Covereal secrets of my dog family for the first time, is FREE.

Oh, my scribe thought I was a crazy dog-author to want to GIVE AWAY the book, but, after all, it’s Christmas and I wanted to give a gift of happiness to the world.

So I did! And the world giggled. I can hear people enjoying my book all over the world (because dogs have better hearing that you humans. Of course.).

I don’t bother with numbers–why should I?–but my scribe keeps up with such trivial things, and HE says that today, December 26, will be the LAST DAY for humans to enjoy my book free.

Of course, my wisdom and wit is a bargain at ANY price, if you ask me, buThe Twelve Dogs of Christmas Canine Carol Singerst I’m such a happy dog that I wanted everyone to know about Par and his adventures with spreading and enjoying Christmas cheer.

Maybe humans can learn from Par. I certainly hope so!

And, I hope all of you have had a wonderful Christmas (with lots of steaks and chops) . . . and that if you read my Christmas stories (or my other, longer books), you feel rewarded and enlightened.

And tickled, too.


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A Christmas Poem from a Dog Poet

When Par (the dog)Performed at Christmas

(Inspired by my new Christmas book and my dear father, Par—the most wanted dog ever*)

When Par performed at ChristmasThe Twelve Dogs of Christmas Canine Carol Singers

Some said it was most dangerous,

Others thought that it was hazardous.

But I would say,’spontaneous,



Because when Par saw Christmas

Was already upon us,

His plan to share was glorious,Farmer Fires a Shot at the Dogs

But, alas, it turned out hazardous–

At least to dogs—’twas quite a fuss!

(We hid while shots flew o’er us.)

Oh, it was quite a Christmas,

(I think it will be infamous!)

And so I wrote down numerous

Tales. (I’m quite industrious.)

They say my book’s hilarious,

I think it’s deadly serious.

My books are most illustriousPerdita Whacknoodle Christmas Book Cover

Especially now at Christmas!

So . . . Are my stories glorious?

Hilarious? Or generous?

You’ll see they’re not monotonous!

For a very happy Christmas!

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‘Tis the Night Before Christmas’ –My Latest Poem

‘Twas the Week Before Christmas

Perdita Whacknoodle, dog poet and dog writerBy Perdita WhacknoodlePar Whack

Dedicated to my dear father,

Par Whack—the most adventurous dog

In the world

‘Tis the night before Christmas,

And all over the world,

People reading my books

Find their brains in a whirl.

They’re learning of Par

And his Christmas adventures

That went . . . not so well,

Despite his intentions.

They read about how,

When Par wanted a view

Of the feast down below

Things went badly askew.

And suddenly there was

A most shocking explosion

Of potatoes and gravy!

Great human commotion!

I’m saddened to tell you

That bad words were said!

Even VERY bad words

From the preacher’s bald head.

And then Mister Wimpy,

A most pompous man,

Was covered entirely

With sauce from the pan.

But Par kept his head

Amid all the confusion

He snagged the roast beef,

For he had no illusion

That even at this

Festive time of the year,

That humans would share

Their feast and good cheer,

With a dog, who by accident

Crashed to the table.

So he snatched the roast beef,

And when he was able

It was out the back door!

He was gone in a flash.

Amid hails of bullets that

Harmlessly crashed

All around him! But Par, he

Remembered to hide.

And to zig, and to lurch,

And to sprint to the side.

So all of the anger,

And all of the shouts

Meant nothing to Par

As he went way on out

Into the deep woods

To chomp down his feast.

He thought “Christmas is great!

And there’s SO much to eat.”

And when he was full

Of Farmer’s roast beef,

Par looked all around

From his head to his feet.

He was filled with the spirit

Of the warm Christmas season,

(And with good roast beef, too)

For the simplest reason.

For Par kept his head

As he crashed to the platter,

While the humans leapt up

To see what was the matter.

One thing that I’m saying,

My books always show,

We dogs are the smartest

Of creatures, you know.

So, the week before Christmas

There was gnashing of teeth

And yelling by humans

And screaming and grief.

But heard ‘round the world

There were chuckles and giggles,

And sniggles, and laughter

And quite happy wiggles.

And some people smiled

And were shocked at the notion

That Par’s little goof

Caused such an explosion!

For those readers who lay

All snug in their beds

With Kindles and ipads

Not far from their heads

They’ll get all the brilliance,

Incredible knowledge

That comes from my family

(And all without college!)

We are tellers of tales,

And spinners of yarns.

And that’s why my stories

Are filled with such charms.

It’s eons of smart dogs,

And wise dogs, and more,

Of explorers and rascals

You just can’t ignore!

So I hope you’ll enjoy

(As you lie in your bed

With your kindle in hand)

All the things that I’ve said,

And have visions of

Dogs who are bringing good cheer

To you and to othersPerdita Whacknoodle Christmas Book Cover

All through the year.

As you read about Par

You’ll say,”What a sight!”

I say “Merry Christmas to all,

And to all a good night!

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We’re Number ONE? Now I Understand!

Perdita Whacknoodle, dog poet and dog writerThere is SO much about humans that I don’t understand. Don’t get me started!

Here is just one small example. I’ve seen humans in large groups at football games, dancing around, holding up a finger, and chanting “We’re Number One! We’re Number One!”

This I have never understood. Until now.

My scribe tells me that my deeply perceptive Christmas book, which features my very favoritePerdita Whacknoodle Christmas Book Cover story of exploding mashed potatoes, “The Christmas Tree of Doom,” has been NUMBER ONE on Amazon for several days!

Though I don’t understand humans very well, I do understand this, and it makes me very happy.

I’m a happy dog-author, because now I know that thousands of people all over the world are smiling and chuclking and adding to their own Christmas spirit at they read my insightful stories about my dear father, Par Whack, and his efforts to enjoy Christmas. Many times, they read my stories to their children, of course, which is even better!

You are probably a human if you are reading this, so you probably already understand what it means to be number one.

And now I understand, too! I, Perdita Whacknoodle, dog-author, can now dance around and say, “I’m Number One!”

The Twelve Dogs of Christmas Canine Carol SingersBy the way, you can share Par’s Christmas adventures, including his elite canine singing unit (“The Twelve Dogs of Christmas”) and the exciting story of their efforts to bring Christmas cheer to the town of Dahlonegee by singing Christmas carols–and you can get this book FREE today (Saturday).

When you read it, I’m sure you’ll understand why I am a number one dog-author! And I’ll bet you’ll smile at the thought.

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The World Did Not End . . . But All Is Not Well

Perdita Whacknoodle, dog poet and dog writerI heard a lot of humans wondering if the world would come to an end yesterday–something predicted by the Mayos a long time ago.

It did not happen, which is good because there is lots more to eat during the holidays, judging from the smells coming from the kitchen.

Which reminds me of my new, currently free Christmas story, “The Christmas Tree of Doom.” My dear father, Par, simply was following his nose, and trying to get a better view of the feast when disaster struck. Sometimes, following a scent doesn’t quite work out as well as you plan. Even for Par.

But, good news! Par kept his head, even in all the confusion, which shows the benefiPar Whackt of all our family knowledge and traditions. “Always be prepared.” is our motto. Also, ” A roast beef in the mouth is worth more than roast beef on the platter.”

In my family, we have lots of wise sayings like those. That’s why we are such special dogs.

You would think I’d be happy that the world did not end, and there are exciting, succulent smells coming from the kitchen, but alas, all is not well.

When I went out for my morning patrol of the big back yard this morning, WHO do you think I saw? The evil, nasty, mean, awful, horrible, no-good, devilish, black cat, that’s who!

He was sitting outside the fence, mocking me. He smiled a horrible smile, and gave me that condescending cat look. So I gave him a piece of my mind.

Then, I checked the gate carefully. Tragically, it was locked.

But . . . one of these days . . . one of these days . . . when the cat least expects it, my humans will forget to close the gate.

And THEN someone’s world will come to an end if I have anything to do with it! For that awful cat, the Mayos will finally be right!

So . . . even though I am filled with warm feelings of good cheer for Christmas–and with rising excitement from all the wonderful kitchen smells, all is not rosy in the Big Back Yard.

But, at least I have a plan! So now I can go back to patrolling the kitchen.

Because, all the incredible feast smells make me glad that my world didn’t end!

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He Just Wanted to Spread Christmas Cheer, But . . .

Perdita Whacknoodle, dog poet and dog writerIf you have read my latest book, which is FREE right now on the Kindle due to my scribe’s bizarre idea of marketing, you know that my dear father, Par, wanted to bring Christmas cheer to the people in the town of Dahlonegee.

It was Christmas, and Par was filled with warm Christmas spirit, as you probably are, too.

So, he simply gathered the best dog singers he knew, Uncle Elvis, Whizzer, and Woofer, and formed an elite canine singing group. They called themselves “The Twelve Dogs of Christmas.”christmas carnage2 web

Their plan was noble, but because some humans (hint: Mr. Wimpy) didn’t have a good ear for music, things didn’t go so well.

Here are some photos that show exactly what Mr. Wimpy’s yard looked like after “The Twelve Dogs of Christmas” finished their concert. Deflated Santa Blow-Up

And the dogs were wonderful singers, too! Uncle Elvis is well-known all over town for his wonderful, penetrating, high voice, and he was singing his heart out that night to spread Christmas cheer.

What could possibly go wrong?

As you can tell, Mr. Wimpy was NOT filled with Christmas spirit at all, but that did not keep Par and his friends from singing anyway–still trying their best to bring Christmas cheer to the nchristmas carnage WEBneighborhood.

Want to know what happened? It is exciting, I can tell you. (I can tell you because I wrote it, you know). There is a lot more to the story, and you can find out right here, FREE from now until Saturday (12/22) night!

As Par would say, “Merry Christmas to All! Now Watch This!”

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My Early Christmas Gift to the World

Perdita Whacknoodle, dog poet and dog writerI am a dog with LOTS of Christmas spirit, so I want to give the whole world the gift of my Christmas stories.

They are FREE today and tomorrow and Saturday (which my scribe says is December 22. He keeps up with such trivia so I won’t have to clutter my brain).

You have never read any dog stories like mine Perdita Whacknoodle Christmas Book Coverbecause I am a truth-telling dog from a most unusual family.

These stories are about my dear father, Par, and his plans to enjoy Christmas in the country–AND his efforts to bring Christmas cheer to the people of Dahlonegee. Sadly, the usual human problems kept Par’s plans from succeeding as well as he hoped . . . but it was a very exciting Christmas, I can tell you.

There were a lot of explosions, and Par LOVES explosions, as I’m sure you know if you’ve read my first two books.

Par WhackAnd, just by chance, some of the explosions were in Mr. Wimpy’s yard, and they were NOT Par’s fault.

I’m sure you’ll agree.

So, if you’ll get my Christmas book for your Kindle, or Krandle, or Krinkle, or whatever you humans call that thing, I know I can bring you lots of Christmas cheer!

Because, when Par is involved . . . excitement happens.

You’ll see!

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