I am forcing myself to write something uplifting.  Cause i want to.  Cause its hard.

And so, as the centerpiece of what i am thankful for this past year, we turn this blog, once again, into its alter-ego: Matt's Dog Blog of Grover doing incredible cute mundane things. (that's a LOT of commas, mol the reading specialist won't be pleased with me) And theyre even cuter . . . cause he's a dog!!!!

Today we will focus on his roar.  Can Grover bark?  Yes.  He can.   Does Grover bark?  No.  He's doesn't.

Since we got him a year ago, grover has barked at about a dozen different instances.  No real pattern.  Sometimes its because we are outside and he is inside and he wants us to hear him.   Sometimes, if you are getting him riled up playing, while he's anticipating, he'll bark once.  No bigs.  My dad heard him bark for the first time over the past weekend.  One bark.  No bigs.  Dad was offended.  Then laughed at himself.

But this doesn't mean that our dog is a silent dog (ok, he is a mostly silent dog).  But when he doesn't talk, he makes the most hilarious guttural, "dying-giraffe" sounding, soft "o" sound.  He's all ooOOOooOoOoOOoOoo like an old man trying to grapple with getting a book off a high shelf.  It's hilarious.  the milkweed crackle of my dog saying hello is worthy of it's own post.  it's that funny sounding.  But i don't have an audio file . . . . so thankfully, there's more.

When he does talk, when he does make his gravelly o face (don't over think that), he can't do it without a post-talk sneeze.  Yup.  He talks, then sneezes.  oooOOooOooOO.  Achoo.  Repeat repeat repeat.

And what makes it so funny to me is that he's voice is all pleading and pathetic (on purpose), but then the sneeze makes it so ridiculous that you can't help but laugh. Thus producing, for him, the opposite of the intended reaction.  It's like when a Canadian tries to say "I'm sour-ee" or a tough guy drinking out of a flexi-straw.  Don't make no sense together.

So if you hear a geriatric howl followed by a sneeze . . . don't worry!  That big headed, black-and-white cow colored hugging and licking machine isn't an assisted living code red . . .  

It's just my dog.