Despite these recent events, my court tries not to subject me to too much chaos. The process of adaptation is by no means painless, and it does take time to acclimate oneself to a new environment. I have plenty of hours in the day dedicated to reflection. In my meditation, I have assembled a list of priorities that I must set into motion in my new land.One priority is establishing a more effective means of communication among the dogs of my kingdom. I have noticed that at all hours of the day and night these canines engage in the uncivilised manner of shouting at each other. There is no proper etiquette, no demureness--only constant random incessant barking that, even though they are wretched creatures, are still an embarrassment to my species. I do not need to be exposed to the neighbors' bragging that their bellies are sated, they spied a lurking feline, or they just spawned a litter of eight. The latter is heard often and is the most appalling, but properly spaying and neutering is yet another one of my tasks at hand (if I divulged my plan, you might find my methods barbaric).
Personally I find the art of the blog much more refined, but then of course I would have to find ways censor any remarks that could be construed as derogatory toward my Person (Caninae). Perhaps the most effective manner would be mandatory education--speech and etiquette classes for all dogs of the land. They will be trained to speak, not shout, at a more pleasant decibel. They will learn proper King's English to rid their tongue of vulgarities, and obviously learn new forms of address and verb conjugation in a manner more befitting the respect of their Majesty. Until then, I must suffer the unintelligible rants of the multi-teeted bitch and her seven puppies and one scrawny runt.
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