his own farts

there are a lot of things my dog doesn't understand, but when he farts he seriously has no idea what the hell is going on. seriously.

hangers

Wire or wooden, Murphy doesn't give a hair off his non existent nards about hangers. What's he going to do? hang up his dress shirts? hell no.

These are Murphy's.

Cameras.

Get that noise making thing out of my face.

Garbage is not food

There is no way he will ever understand that garbage is not food. If it's not supposed to be eaten, why does it taste so good?

fences.

Fences just get in the way of everything he wants. Dogs, cats, jerks doing jerk ass things, squirrels, rabbits, raccoons, jerks doing stupid things, trash, mailmen, wagons filled with beer being pulled by horses, boats, beef jerky, bones, tacos, time machines, laser guns, comfy down blankets, rodents, hot chicks, race cars...you know dog stuff.
Anyway, to quote Murphy, "Barooo! ruff ruff baroo" roughly(yep) translated, "Fucking this damn fence! why the hell is it here? and what the crap is here for?"

Squirrels

I don't think Murphy has gotten closer than 2 feet to a squirrel, but he knows he hates those little fluffy rodents. I assume it's hate. It's hate or love. He could love them so much he needs to catch them in his mouth and hug them with his jaws. Yeah, so he loves them, but I don't think he understands them.

Why are they always in trees? or near trees? or on the fence? or on a telephone wire? why aren't they down on the ground where he can get them.

These questions may never be answered.

Each morning Murphy darts out the back door to the back of the yard where there is always some jerk of a squirrel hanging in a tree. Murphy runs to leaps once, grunts at it and then takes a crap. By the time Murphy is grunting the squirrel is in another yard doing stupid squirrel things.

Maybe one day Murphy will be able to hug a squirrel in his jaws just like he does in his dreams.