Boswell Speaks: A Canine Twitter Novel

Hello, I’m an Australian terrier. My pal who feeds me is the poet, Richard Grossman. What is the meaning of life? Now let me see…

Maybe the meaning of life has something to do with kibble. A secret arrangement in my bowl. Maybe the spirit of the bowl can speak to me.

I saw the meaning of life written in my kibble, but then I ate the message. Drats!

Now I have to wait till tomorrow to get another shot at understanding the secret meaning of everything.

But maybe the spirit speaks to me in other ways.

Why should I be so down on myself for eating the meaning of the universe? It was written in kibble. They say I’m a dog. Dogs eat kibble.

Now that I’m trying to understand the key to the universe, I feel great. I have an open mind. My bowl is empty. What does this mean?

There goes Grossman, walking through the kitchen. Grossman is new to Twitter. I feel sorry for him. Poor guy.

Two hours ago Grossman couldn’t tell you the difference between a tweet and a chihuahua, but he thinks about the universe all the time.

I figure if I can decode the message in my kibble maybe I can help Grossman with his poetry. He walks me. He deserves it.

I’m going to focus on the basics before I take my nap. I’m always napping. Can napping have anything to do with the meaning of the universe?

What do I know that can’t be contradicted? Where do I begin my philosophy? Hmmmm. Sleep, nap, universe, Boswell. What is basic?

I sleep therefore I am!!! http://ow.ly/i/ff2j

My pal StuffyToy looks like a human but he only has one eye. I run around the house with him before I sleep.

I can channel StuffyToy. I can’t channel humans, just Stuffy. He speaks my language yet has a human point of view. He loves to brag.

What does a one-eyed toy with tooth marks have to brag about? Maybe Stuffy does have a human nature. It’s possible.

Stuffy tells me that one eye is better than two. He brags about the threads sticking out of the hole in his face. He has a ton of attitude

Stuffy thinks existence is loaded with conflict. He’s tugged and gnawed and trampled and kicked. He was young once.

But StuffyToy and I are buddies. He puts up with my quirks. He’s proud that I am trying to figure out the meaning of life.

I ask StuffyToy: Are we created to be the victims of evil? Sometimes I don’t get enough treats. Why is fate so cruel?

StuffyToy winks before he answers. (He always winks before he answers.) He says I should focus on the Big Picture. Karma and past lives.

I tell Stuffy I can’t believe I was a treat-miser in a past life. If I had treats I gave them to dogs of all creeds and breeds. For sure.

Stuffy lies next to my bowl: You can’t even learn from your kibble, he says. How would you know about fate? Grossman could tell you.

How would Grossman know? I bark. Besides, I’ll get another shot at learning the meaning of the universe tomorrow morning.

Grossman knows because he is more evolved than you. He gave out treats in a former life. You get plenty of treats.