Me, We & Mr. T
Coming this January... 1,5 years of silence are finally over... 21st century Z-Rod Production proudly presents, a brand new episode of a brand new season of: Duchess of Dublin - Me, We & Mr. T.
Whoopdidoodledoo, party, hurray... jump for joy or x-click tab for nay.
When your life begins, it has begun and when my life began, that is when me, myself and I went our separate ways and the `M´ in `Me` got flipped upside down. There is now a `We`... and also...
a Mr. T.
There is a `He` in the `We` and that `He` is my hero, my partner, my best friend and my classical Ass-face in the glistening morning sun.
Together we are Iron man and Batman (I am obvio Tony Stark with the big mouth and the kitten T-shirt) imposing our awesomenessness on the world... You are most welcome.
As per process for an amaze-balls crew, an equally ballsy sidekick is needed.
Presenting to you - Mr. T!
Mr. T, or his given name within the circles of the Royal Canine Society (RCS):
"His Lordship King Highness Tyson Show Horse Bratty MacBrat Brat L´il Pig Hallstrom"...
or in short - Tyson, is a 9 dog year/63 human year old mini pinscher and the second generation Swedish immigrant living in Ireland... Mommy's baby boy is back.
The every day to day life for a Senior, strutting show horse like Tyson's involves being dragged out of bed around 8.30 am, to be stuffed down a backpack, transported to doggy daycarer Emily and his three-legged, tank-attack playmate Charlotte, semi-romantic walks on the beach to later in the afternoon have a nap and a snack, to then being stuffed down a backpack, transported from doggy daycarer Emily and his three-legged, tank-attack playmate Charlotte home to mommy and daddy, kill Rupert the teddy bear and there after crawl under the cover, fall into a deep sleep in the middle of the bed... across the bed.
Yes, the little shit-turd is living the life... the kind of life every dog should have.
Me, We and Mr.T - a family of three, all with different quirks and peculiarities.
Whoopdidoodledoo, party, hurray... jump for joy or x-click tab for nay.
When your life begins, it has begun and when my life began, that is when me, myself and I went our separate ways and the `M´ in `Me` got flipped upside down. There is now a `We`... and also...
a Mr. T.
There is a `He` in the `We` and that `He` is my hero, my partner, my best friend and my classical Ass-face in the glistening morning sun.
Together we are Iron man and Batman (I am obvio Tony Stark with the big mouth and the kitten T-shirt) imposing our awesomenessness on the world... You are most welcome.
As per process for an amaze-balls crew, an equally ballsy sidekick is needed.
Presenting to you - Mr. T!
Mr. T, or his given name within the circles of the Royal Canine Society (RCS):
"His Lordship King Highness Tyson Show Horse Bratty MacBrat Brat L´il Pig Hallstrom"...
or in short - Tyson, is a 9 dog year/63 human year old mini pinscher and the second generation Swedish immigrant living in Ireland... Mommy's baby boy is back.
The every day to day life for a Senior, strutting show horse like Tyson's involves being dragged out of bed around 8.30 am, to be stuffed down a backpack, transported to doggy daycarer Emily and his three-legged, tank-attack playmate Charlotte, semi-romantic walks on the beach to later in the afternoon have a nap and a snack, to then being stuffed down a backpack, transported from doggy daycarer Emily and his three-legged, tank-attack playmate Charlotte home to mommy and daddy, kill Rupert the teddy bear and there after crawl under the cover, fall into a deep sleep in the middle of the bed... across the bed.
Yes, the little shit-turd is living the life... the kind of life every dog should have.
Me, We and Mr.T - a family of three, all with different quirks and peculiarities.
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