Do I dare to eat a peach?

Good afternoon, friends & fans,

I read this question somewhere and it caused me to reflect on one of the most important factors of my life: food. When, what, how, where and why food is served to me daily are matters for due consideration and many grave aspects of my life depend on the answers to those (almost) overwhelming questions. I will answer some of those questions below (and I will ask others). I hope you will write to Mama and Papa with suggestions for some sorely needed improvements. (use the comments section below)

When & What: generally I'm served an early morning hor d'oeuvre, followed by a breakfast of high end dog food at 8:30AM. There follows a dry spell until mid-morning at which time I share Mama's tinned salmon, humus and olive sandwich. Mid day crunchy snacks are occasionally served up but I can count on an ample early, i.e. 3PM, supper (yet again the prepared high end, if dry, dog food).

Once Papa returns from wherever he spends his day, the menu improves markedly. I share at least a morsel of each item on his dinner plate and also any of his later evening snacks. As well, tempting doggie cocktails & treats are generously profferred -- as they say, it's always 5 o'clock somewhere. [Doubtless it's Papa's contributions to my daily diet are doubtless what have prevented many of the diseases associated with insufficient caloric intake.]

How: one ceramic bowl and one plastic water bowl --albeit with pink scull & cross bones around the side. (and yet, there should be time to "lift and drop a question on [my]... plate.... before the taking of a toast and tea"...)

Where: I'm served in my own dining area (it can hardly be called a room), no table (therefore no table cloth), no chair, no candle sticks, no center piece (no--- you fill in the blanks).

Why: this is the most difficult question to answer since it encompasses so many aspects. I will name only four.

1) Why am I segregated from the dining table with its aura of deluxe?
2) Why don't I have full table service, chinaware, sterling silver, crystal goblets, linen napkins, lace doilies on a damask table cloth, etc., in other words the niceties of dining, those aspects that create pleasure out of need?
3) Why do I not receive a menu to be approved daily?
4) and finally, why am I not served on demand? (after which I'd have time to "wear white flannels and walk upon the beach...." instead of the dull routine: get up, eat, rest, eat, rest, eat dinner, snack, bed)

I hope you will give weighty consideration to my situation. (I have omitted some of the more objectionable problems, in favor of try to address those that seem more likely to, in fact, be solved.)

Please help me send a message and sing with me The Love Song of Mercury Murphy Roushanzamir.

Dear Santa, 2011

Dear Darling Santa,

Thank you for bringing me some presents, some of which I like. You are the kindest, nicest man ever and I count you as my very best friend. It's wonderful that you take the time to visit me each year but I know that you see me when I'm sleeping and know when I'm awake 24/7.



To summarize: I did not get the Hide 'em and Find 'em plush toy with several small blue balls. On the other hand, I'm grateful for the antler chew toy and the long-needed china food bowl. I received a vintage reindeer toy but clearly that was for Maman. The candy cane chew toy's okay; it's not real candy. I was especially hoping for the I'm Beggin' Ya Treat Box (big size). But although that didn't materialize, I'm rather relieved not to have received a Burberry sweater (or for that matter any sweater).

[May I say, dear Santa, in all honesty that when it comes to the gifts, I was hoping for more?]

As for Maman and Papa, their gift experience was also mixed: no Mercedes, no 10ct. emerald cut, set in platinum diamond ring. Papa opened package after package of clothing. But he also found a Doctor Who hologram chamber and a special "Brown Betty" tea pot under the (rosemary) table top tree. And his loot included a Smiley's People DVD. Maman's hopes for Co Co Chanel perfume were rewarded. On the other hand, she has already returned her new warm winter coat. They both did receive thick warm socks.

We shared Christmas dinner with Pam, Sophie and Lily and that was wonderful. Great drink, food and conversation! Their tree was spectacular, the girls and Pam are beautiful, and everyone treated me as an honored guest. They appreciated the gifts I brought them--a cornucopia of fancy makeup, tough-cool black leather gloves for Pam, and $50 cash for each of the girls.

I have used my time this holiday season constructively. I've paid special attention to perfecting the combo winsome-wistful sideways Glance. I've steadily improved and at present the Glance is liberally rewarded with holiday treats, those reserved for doggies and those intended for strictly human consumption.

So, Santa, although I have some reservations, Christmas has been a happy holiday. I hope your Christmas was the best ever, that you in your turn received desired gifts and tasty treats, and that now you take a well deserved rest basking in the knowledge of a job well done.

I love you Santa, very very much. I hope you love me too.

Mercury's futon

For you, loyal readers, who worry that I'm relegated to Dog Status [i.e. dog-in-the-manger] in the Roushanzamir household, I've provided this [minor] evidence to the contrary.

True, I could wish for better things: a fine china bowl for my food and Waterford crystal stem-ware for water [in lieu of the green plastic cat dish & water in an absurdly large blue container]; three meals per day [instead of two] with a greater variety of menus [it could hardly be less since I eat the same--premium--dog food day after day]; a couture gem studded collar [the jewels wouldn't have to be diamonds]; an 18- or 22-carat gold or platinum name tag, and so forth. I could also hope [and do] that Mama would stop dressing me in sweaters, hats, raincoats and t-shirts [but she hasn't-- as yet-- sunk so low as to insist upon frilly dresses or frou frou hair styles].

Dear fans, do not despair or worry unduly [your steadfast concern is appreciated]. Here, pictured, a green futon, Mercury's futon, which is [however slight] concrete proof that Mama et Papa contrive to construct a proper environment, maximizing what resources [admitedly scant] they possess to ensure [a measure of] my comfort & pleasure .

***Forthcoming: my entry about the friends, both dogs & humans, with whom Mama et Papa permit me to associate.***