Happy birthday, Wendell!

The ayatollah compound is in celebration mode, my flock. For today is Wendell's 2nd birthday. I remember well the day mother brought him home. He was tiny, with a bad case of stinky puppy acne. But he deferred to my authority, stayed away from my food bowl and was a good cuddler, so I welcomed him into the compound and embraced my new brother. It wasn't long before his shyness abated and he learned how to play -- one of our favorite games was "Swing the Puppy." Who would have guessed then that he'd someday grow taller than me?

Our celebration began yesterday with a family trip to PetSmart. Wendell and I got some new chew toys, and we also sniffed a hound dog. Then father and I went to the party store next door.

"Can I help you find something?" asked a store clerk.

"I'm looking for party hats, the pointy kind," father answered.

The clerk led us to another aisle. "Are you looking for hats for children or adults?" he asked.

"Um ... actually, for dogs," father answered, suddenly reminded of his status as neighborhood outcast.

The clerk scratched his head.

But as you can see, we found some suitable hats, as well as a pair of 25-cent leis. My flock, few things excite me more than getting leid. Whenever I see father holding a lei, my tail wags wildly in a hula-like rhythm and I run toward him with my head down, eager to put it on. Then I smile widely for several minutes, and nothing, not even a fatwa-violator, can dampen my spirits.

We took our party outside to show off our garb to passing neighbors and let Wendell play with his soccer ball. I also urged the humans to fix that piece of weatherstripping hanging off the door. "What will my blog audience think?" I barked. "It is embarrassing. No wonder you are the neighborhood outcasts."

After some time under the hot Texas sun, we went inside to cool down. I sprawled out on the cool tile while Wendell went to work on his new frozen chew bone. It wasn't long before we were exhausted. Partying, when done properly, can be hard work.

Mugsy delivers commencement address

The following is a transcript of a commencement address the ayatollah delivered on Saturday at a PetSmart in Plano, Texas:

Assalamu alaikum. And thank you, Head Cashier Smith, for that generous introduction. I am here to congratulate you, the Class of 2009, on your accomplishments. I understand that, with the exception of that screeching Chihuahua biting that embarrassed woman in the back row, all of you have passed your coursework and earned diplomas. Some of you have learned to sit, to stay, to heel. Some may have even learned to roll over. You should all be commended. But know that this is really just the beginning -- you are all embarking on a lifetime of learning.

I am reminded of my own graduation. I finished at the top of PetSmart's puppy class back in 2002. And donning my graduation cap on that proud day, I could have never imagined the great heights I would someday achieve. To think that only 18 months later I would be the first to ever translate the holy Quran into canine barking, or that I would shortly thereafter found the world's largest interfaith, interspecies ministry -- truly, it boggles the mind.

Recent graduates, you cannot hold yourselves to the lofty standards that I have set. To do so would be to set yourselves up for failure. But that does not mean you shouldn't aim high. We live in a world where the humans often ignore our brilliance, believing the myth that they are the superior species. Do not let this bring you down. I would like to think that a wise fawn pug, with the richness of his experiences, would more often than not reach a better conclusion than a human who hasn't lived that life.

So go forth, young graduates, and make this world your own. Sniff every mailbox; savor every delectable, crunchy junebug. I believe the puppies are our future. We have taught you well, and now we must let you lead the way. Allahu akbar!

[Rapturous applause]