Monday, February 17, 2014

Peanut Economics: Hoisting Sails with the Notorious Pirate of the Dark Seas, Captain Peanut MacPumpkin

Hello my friends. I suppose you must have been wondering what had become of me since it has been nearly a year since my last post. So many things have happened within that time, I could hardly put them all to words, but I can assure you there have been a great many adventures during that time which I will share with you. There have been a few hardships and with such, I felt I needed a change, which brought me to my first great adventure of last year.

Being a pup of particular distinction and refined tastes, I tended to migrate to certain circles of society, as was expected of my breeding. I found however, that the habits of my youth were beginning to weigh me down. The pageantry, the grooming, the fluffy bedding, the daily brushing of my locks....it all began to wear upon me like a river upon sandstone. Rather than fall victim to a well-manicured melancholy, I traded in my hat of ribbon and lace for one with skull and cross bones.

I heard the sea calling to me like the voice of my mommy, sharp and sweet. It knew my name, and heard the longing in my heart. Its voice was full of promises. It told me adventure awaited me. How could I resist it? How could I say no? I answered the call back with a resounding bark. 

One cannot imagine the liberation I felt when I first held the stinky, sweat stained felt hat between my paws. Oh the ports-of-call this hat must have seen, the battles, the swashing, the buckling! I knew as I placed its well-worn rim upon my head, my life would be changed forever......and it was.
Now granted, it took some time for me to adjust to the smell of my nifty not so new pirate hat. I could only wear it in spurts until I could stand the stench long enough to gather my crew and head for the open waters. The cases of Febreeze I went through! But hey....money can't buy authenticity. It also can't buy a good dry cleaning. Phew!

I could taste the salt upon the air as I gathered my scurvy crew and headed for my ship, the Black Bunny. Don't let the name fool you. She was a fearful ship, run by an equally fearful crew. We hoisted the mizzenmast (whatever that is) and set sail for the dark waters, straight over Davy Jones' locker. Why Davy keeps his locker so far out to sea is beyond me but I guess it is as safe a place for a locker as I could imagine.

Oh the tails I could tell you of our voyages. They were reckless, daring days. We played spin the rootbeer bottle. We ate our meat with our bare paws. We sang raunchy shanties like 'How much is that doggie in the window?" We drank until we couldn't hold our water any more. We were dogs, and we liked it!

Such joys were not to be mine forever. Mischief and mayhem were to rear their ugly head upon my vessel just as sure as the sun rises in the east. There was a certain first hand named Fluffles MacFarlain who was green with envy on account of my fluffy tail. It shivered her timbers every time I walked into a room or walked out of it for all cutthroats were sure to admire my tail on account of its fluffiness. Fluffles couldn't take the competition and soon hatched a plan to take everything from me.

I knew she was jealous, but I wasn't sure how bad things had gotten until I found myself looking over my shoulder at the drop of a hat. In my line of work, there were a lot of hats, and they were prone to drop with a frequency that caused my head to spin thanks to Fluffles and her jealous ways. 

I should have dropped the lot of them and gotten a whole new crew when my suspicions were raised, but I ignored my gutfeeling thinking I had a worm or something. It was my first big mistake. My second was eating a clearance bean burrito from the taco seller on an island in the Caribbean, but that has nothing to do with this tail. Just remember, fresh is best. Now, back to my woes.

We had taken on water when we had struck a reef or something hard and pokey. We were forced to set anchor near a small island we thought was deserted. While I oversaw the repairs, my mutineers were putting in place the final stages of their dastardly deed. I was my trusting, unsuspecting cutthroat captain self, believing my crew had my back. 

Their first step was to foul my anchor, and boy did they ever! I had seen what they had done to the begonia bushes in the colonies. I knew their handiwork anywhere. Begonia bushes are one thing. I mean sometimes a pup has got to go. But an anchor? Who fouls another dog's anchor? It went against the code. Yes, even we scurvy naves had a code amongst each other, or so I had been brought up to believe, yet here was my anchor proving otherwise.

A terrible fight ensued. I gave no quarter to my enemies; nor did I give a nickle or dime. They deserved no such monies from me. I hit them with everything I had, and knocked the wind from their sails. You should have seen me. It was glorious, but sadly, I was outnumbered and found myself cornered in the crow's nest. I was given two options - surrender my ship or DIE!

Oh the horror of it all. MUTINY!!!! Thy name is cursed! I looked for any face that might be a friend to me and found none, but I was determined they would not take the Black Bunny from me. 

Never would I surrender my ship. Not so long as I wore the captain's hat upon my head would I ever even consider giving my precious, my lovely....

Oh blast those stiff winds! 

As I watched my treacherous crew sail away with my beloved Black Bunny, I gave one last act of defiance. Though they may not see the full measure of it, they would feel it where it mattered most.....in their dark souls. As the ship disappeared over the horizon, I turned from the dark water to explore the island that was my new reality.

As it turns out, we landed on a resort island, and I was able to get a job as a cabana girl, serving iced drinks to tourists. I made really great tips and didn't have to do any swashing or buckling either! 

Sometimes it pays to be flexible.












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Sunday, April 14, 2013

Feed a Man a Fish and Other Wisdoms To Get You Through the Tough Times

Hello friends! Peanut Pumpkin Pie here to share a little of my puppy wisdom during one of the most stressful seasons of the year ~ tax season! It's been a while since my last post, mainly because we have had some hardships in my family that have kept me preoccupied. My grampy got sick, we lost our sweet Happydog, I got really sick, etc. Needless to say, there was a lot to make us feel like we had been sent to an un-fun dog house with an empty water bowl and a too-short chain.


There is a lot of advice out there in books and on the web on how to deal with those tough times in life, and there are more slogans than you can shake a stick from your yard at. I have a few favorites that I go to from time to time like:
  1. Don't worry, be a silly billy.
  2. Just do it!......as long as your mommy says it is okay first.
  3. Turn a frown upside down by standing on your head. The sudden rush of blood flow to your brain will make everything seem better.
  4. The art of being happy lies in finding just the right nom on the floor.
I could go on, but you get the idea. Sometimes though, fun slogans aren't enough. You need something deeper. Something with a little more meat and mashed potatoes to it. At those times, I turn to words of wisdom.


There is a saying from ancient times about happiness and how to find it. It is a saying which still rings true in this modern era of ours the way that timeless wisdom has a tendency to do. It goes like this..........


"Feed a man a fish, fill his tummy for a month. Give a man a squeaky fish, and bring him happiness for a lifetime." I know.......it's pretty heavy stuff for a pumpkin to share, but the message is important. Wait a second........


My mommy is trying to tell me something very important related to my post. Give me a second....


Okay.....Mommy just told me that is not how the quote goes at all. In fact, I am not even close. But, since my version goes along with my wisdom of the day.......


We are going to roll with it! So back to my story......sometimes the secret to finding joy in life is looking for it in the simple pleasures around you and taking the time to enjoy them.


After all, never underestimate the power of a squeaky fish to bring joy and joyness to all who encounter it. In fact, squeaky toys and play in general have the power to transform a tough time into something magical. I will show you what I mean.......


Today, my grampy was working on taxes and other stressful things. I could see from the look on his face, he needed my help. He needed the power of squeaky toy joy.....and me. I brought him two of my favorite squeaky toys (my fluffy pink poodle dog and my little forest frog) and placed them on his arm. He didn't notice. He was too stressed.


I tried calling his attention to the squeaky frog (a personal favorite of mine) thinking perhaps grampy just needed some encouragement. Still no response. He was too stressed.


I moved the squeaky frog from his arm and plopped it on top of his keyboard. Everyone knows it is impossible to resist a happy smiling squeaky frog on their keyboard. Right?


Apparently, sometimes they are resistible. I knew it was time for drastic measures. It was time for a full blown puppy intervention!


Sometimes happiness needs a helping paw, and that is just what I gave to my grampy today as he worked on his taxes. I saw he was stressed and needed some happy fun time. And boy did I make sure he had it!


All my grampy needed was a little encouragement and the next thing I knew, he was having the time of his life squeaking the squeaky frog with me.


He was so happy in fact, I got scratches for my efforts.........


Mommy said I did a good thing in helping grampy today de-stress from a stressful situation and finding a happy moment in the process. Sometimes the joys in life are few and far between.....at least that is what it may feel like, but they are there. All you have to do is look for them.


Okay, so maybe I can't guarantee that a squeaky fish or frog will make everything better all at once. I can't even guarantee they will make you smile the way they do me. What I can promise you is that looking for the little joys in life is the most worthwhile effort you will ever make. Those little joys can get you through the tough times when nothing else will. Whatever the little joys are to you, I hope you find them. In my terms, and from my heart, I hope you find your squeaky fish when you need it most. Love you!

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Wednesday, January 30, 2013

Peanut Economics: Rockin' N Rollin' With the Punches

Hi there friends! In 2013, I thought I would mix things up a bit and kick it old school in trying to find myself a means of employment. Last year's efforts were a bit of a let down, so I thought I would try out for something a little more traditional to help me bring home the bacon.


I decided I was going to join an 80's rocker band. It made perfect sense to me, and there seemed to be so many pluses to the career move. I made a mental list for myself to weigh all of the potential benefits.


1. Job security. You gotta figure, if a rocker hasn't disappeared into obscurity after twenty years or so, there's gotta be some kind of cool secret to their career longevity. 
2. Savings on hair grooming. Rockers NEVER cut their hair, or wash it very often, so I would save tons of money by not having to get groomed. There might be a small monetary offset on cans of hairspray and eyeliner, but hey, sometimes, it's a trade off.
3. Great singing talent is not necessarily a requirement. Apparently, when kicking it old school rocker style, the moniker 'if you can't sing good, sing loud' really can work for you.

The more I thought about it, the better I felt. I really thought I could do this. The big question though was what kind of rocker did I want to be? I tried to channel a little classic rock with Credence Clear Water Revival but found I didn't quite have the right sound for it.


Next, I gave my best rebel yell at the first white wedding I could find, but the ushers threw me out before I could even get to the chorus. Apparently, the guests were not a big fan of my rendition of Billy Idol.


I finally decided, if I was going to be a rocker, I needed to go all the way and commit myself to Rock And Roll All Nite! I kissed my good girl image goodbye and unleashed my Peanut Poison Pie...... rocker and roller of all things round and squeaky. Nothing could stand in my way!


I played HARD at all hours of the day and night.........the way a real rocker should.........and I didn't care what anybody said about it! Squeaka! Squeaka!


I even had the attitude going on....you know the one they say you hafta have as a celebrity rocker to help set you apart from everyone else?


I had the moves and the grooves on stage.....you know the kind that say 'look but you can't touch'....


They were great times, being on the road, unskinny bopping (whatever that means). It was what a Peanut Poison Pie rocker's life should be.....


But just as every rose has it's thorn, this rocker life of action was beginning to feel kind of empty for me, and I was starting to miss my mommy alot. She had always encouraged me to follow my dreams, but had always reminded me to stay true to myself in the process.


I realized as I squeaked my squeaky ball that life on the road as Peanut Poison Pie just wasn't for me. I liked being just plain old Peanut Pumpkin Pie, squeaking my ball with my nicely groomed hair.


I like being just plain me. I decided to hang my up hair and pass the flaming baton on to someone else.


It's not that there is anything wrong with being a rocker. It just wasn't a good fit for me. I guess I wasn't enough of a fallen angel. When the last song was sung and my shooting star landed, I picked up the phone and told my mommy I was coming home. I will always look back on my rocker days with fondness as a once-in-a-lifetime experience, but I will always be grateful for the decision I made to leave that rock and rollercoaster life behind.


It is so important to know who you are in your own heart; not based on how someone else defines you but on how you define yourself. People's opinions of you will come and go like the flashes from a pyrotechnic's flashpot. What you think of yourself is the thing that matters most. It is the opinion you will carry with you the rest of your life. As long as you know who you are and are happy with the person you see looking back at you in the mirror, nothing else matters.


Here's hoping that today when you look in the mirror, you love what you see. And don't forget to rock and roll with the punches!