hello nice reederz its dennis the vizsla dog hay yoo may remember a kuple of yeerz ago i publishd a skolarly treetis on nasty weeds in witch one of the weeds i menshund wuz the evil foxtail weed:
unfortchoonatly i forgot my own advise and ate sum foxtail grass the other day!!! wot can i say i wuz kraving a salad!!!
hello nice reederz its dennis the vizsla dog hay wel as promissd heer ar sum more pikchers frum woofstock twenny ten in the mithical sitty of sandy eggo!!! in theez pikchers yoo wil see sum of the dogs wot came to see the flyball demo or the frisbee demo or just to shop becuz as yoo no dogs luv to shop!!! and by shop i meen snif things ha ha ok on to the pikchers!!!
hello nice reederz its dennis the vizsla dog hay wel a kuple of weeks ago i went to woofstock for the annyooal flyball demo!!! this wil be wun of the last woofstocks before the wurld ends in twenny twelv so i am glad i got to go their and hav a gud time showing evrybuddy wot flyball is abowt and also gitting filmd by a moovee kamra guy!!! i dont no wot he wuz doing eksaktly i suspekt he wuz wurking on a dokyoomentry calld dennis the vizsla dog the dokyoomentry but we wil see!!! ennyway heer ar sum pikchers frum woofstock and of korse a flyball viddyo enjoy!!!
Hello, stuffie friends. This is Round Duck.
I was recently awarded to Dennis for racing in a flyball competition. Immediately upon arriving, I began to hear horror stories from the other stuffies about their treatment at Dennis’s paws, but I was sure that, being a prize for his athletic performance, I would receive more respect. Unfortunately I was quite wrong.
hello nice reederz its dennis the vizsla dog hay welkum to the sunday awards and meem show!!! we ar stil on owr grand whirld toor wot wuz arrayndjd by my brother tucker the other vizsla dog and this week we ar broadkasting frum owr first stop the lardjest trash heep on the west koast!!!
Having unexpectedly encountered my old and long-presumed-deep-fried nemesis, Darth Tater, our spaceship has found itself surrounded by superior forces, cut off from outside assistance, and about to be boarded. It looks like I will spend the rest of my days as a prisoner of Darth Tater, perhaps an exhibit in his petting zoo; but as the rest of the crew files out on deck to be clapped in chains, Harry Stamper grabs my collar and pulls me into one of the air ducts. Crazy at it seems, he thinks we have a chance against Tater and his minions. Even crazier, he tells me to start calling him John McClane.
