Squeaker-squeakin'

Ok, this might come as a surprise, but I can't talk (audibly, anyway). My conversations with mom are like, oh how do you say, one sided. I mean, she always gets my point across (telepathically, of course), but sometimes I just need to speak my own mind.

This is where my squeaky toys come in. Specifically, my brain.
You see, the brain squeaks. So when I do this:I know everyone is hearing exactly what I want to say.

Mom and dad have tried to supplement my brain with other toys that don't squeak as "loud". This is what I did to the last one:I tore off his tail and then, this happened:I tore off his long tongue. Opps.

So for a long time now mom and dad do a "squeak-test" before buying me any new toys. This is so embarrassing, because of course they do this in a public place, while I'm WITH them (and there is always another dog walking by, looking...mocking!) The most recent toy that received the squeak-test was the Squeeki Tiki
Apparently the tikis, while incredibly cool looking, were too "loud" and so we left them in Petsmart.

To add insult to my already injured pride, one of the dogs with mocking-eyes, got one! NO FAIR! I think I'm going to start a Squeeki Tiki fund (please make checks payable to Jack the Puggle) that would really surprise dad when he comes home from work!

But, until I receive enough donations to afford my squeeki tiki, I'll just play with my brain. (I love this last one of me. I decided to turn my head from mom- in a sign of reluctance until I get a squeeki tiki!)