<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8336717</id><updated>2011-04-21T13:22:36.739-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Modean and Goofch's DogBlog</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06416028487884124866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/149/335501931_a576a820ee.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>17</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8336717.post-115750947008397876</id><published>2006-09-05T19:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T17:46:12.079-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#330033;"&gt;A Farewell Letter from Goofch&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m not really one for speeches. Modean wrote everybody a nice song that really helped him to cope before he left. Since I don’t have a voice for song (or at least that’s what people say about my singing). Some would say that I lost my voice when Modean left us, because those same people would say I lost my brain when Modean left us. That’s ok, I never needed my brain and I did fine without it. I’ll just leave you with a few words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I lived a great life. I had many friends. In my estimation, the world was my friend. I did love the ladies. I was misunderstood by the kitties, but I loved them too. I loved the woods. I loved the truck. I loved to bake in the sun. About the only place I didn’t love was Memphis, but if the circumstances were different, I could have liked it there too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never met a body of water I wouldn’t drink. I drank the water in Texas and I tried to drink a whole river in Oklahoma. Modean showed me a big cold lake somewhere that tasted delicious, so we went there a few more times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Most of all, I will miss not being able to make my people happy. Lately, I only seem to make them sad, but they tell me it’s not my fault. I made it my mission in life to make sure they remembered how to smile, and I was rewarded with hugs and ear rubs. The wiggle always did the trick. It would always cheer them up. If I was too tired to wiggle, proper placement of my chin would work wonders. I must have been good at it, because sometimes, when I was napping and not even trying, they would stick out their tongues and smile at me. I guess I had the gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was sad when Modean left. So I’m worried that you will be sad without me. Please try not to stay awake crying for your lost friend. It wasn’t the crying that helped, it was the crying that brought my people in to see me and scratch my ears. Scratching my ears helped a lot. I think it helped the people too. You have each other like I had you when Modean went away. It doesn’t seem like enough now, but you’ll find that it’s more than enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides, I have a feeling that you won’t be alone for long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5099/171/1600/IMGP2399.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/5099/171/320/IMGP2399.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8336717-115750947008397876?l=modeangoofch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/feeds/115750947008397876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8336717&amp;postID=115750947008397876' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/115750947008397876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/115750947008397876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/2006/09/farewell-letter-from-goofch-im-not.html' title=''/><author><name>Cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06416028487884124866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/149/335501931_a576a820ee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8336717.post-111264376378634791</id><published>2005-04-04T14:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T17:46:11.790-08:00</updated><title type='text'>A Farewell Letter From Modean</title><content type='html'>In the Big Beef Brisket Mountains&lt;br /&gt;There's a land that's fair and bright&lt;br /&gt;Where the lizards grow on bushes&lt;br /&gt;And you sleep out ev'ry night&lt;br /&gt;Where the truck beds are all empty&lt;br /&gt;And the sun shines ev'ry day&lt;br /&gt;Oh, I'm bound to go where there ain't no snow&lt;br /&gt;Where the rain don't fall and the wind don't blow&lt;br /&gt;In the Big Beef BrisketMountains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, the buzzin' of the bees in the mulberry trees&lt;br /&gt;Round the open fields&lt;br /&gt;Where the chicken soup springs and the grey geese sing&lt;br /&gt;In the Big Beef BrisketMountains&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Big Beef BrisketMountains&lt;br /&gt;You never take a bath&lt;br /&gt;And sitting on nice furniture&lt;br /&gt;Makes the people smile and laugh&lt;br /&gt;The other dogs are friendly&lt;br /&gt;And they wrestle all day long&lt;br /&gt;There's squirrels that run slow and a fence that's low&lt;br /&gt;You can take a long nap where the clovers grow&lt;br /&gt;In the Big Beef BrisketMountains.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, the buzzin' of the bees in the mulberry trees&lt;br /&gt;Round the open fields&lt;br /&gt;Where the chicken soup springs and the grey geese sing&lt;br /&gt;In the Big Beef BrisketMountains&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the Big Beef Brisket Mountains,&lt;br /&gt;There's pathways made of cheese&lt;br /&gt;And walks are scheduled hourly&lt;br /&gt;Through the tall loblolly trees&lt;br /&gt;Leashes are against the law&lt;br /&gt;And the deer have wooden legs&lt;br /&gt;Oh I'm gonna get away where the big dogs play&lt;br /&gt;Where there's a party all night and you sleep all day&lt;br /&gt;In the Big Beef Brisket Mountains&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, the buzzin' of the bees in the mulberry trees&lt;br /&gt;Round the open fields&lt;br /&gt;Where the chicken soup springs and the grey geese sing&lt;br /&gt;In the Big Beef BrisketMountains&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8336717-111264376378634791?l=modeangoofch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/feeds/111264376378634791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8336717&amp;postID=111264376378634791' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/111264376378634791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/111264376378634791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/2005/04/farewell-letter-from-modean.html' title='A Farewell Letter From Modean'/><author><name>Cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06416028487884124866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/149/335501931_a576a820ee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8336717.post-111264449270915395</id><published>2005-04-04T12:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T17:46:11.858-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/116/4117/640/modeanjump1.jpg'&gt;&lt;img border='0' style='border:1px solid #000000; margin:2px' src='http://photos1.blogger.com/img/116/4117/320/modeanjump1.jpg'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &amp;nbsp;&lt;a href='http://www.hello.com/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbh.gif' alt='Posted by Hello' border='0' style='border:0px;padding:0px;background:transparent;' align='absmiddle'&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8336717-111264449270915395?l=modeangoofch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/feeds/111264449270915395/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8336717&amp;postID=111264449270915395' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/111264449270915395'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/111264449270915395'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/2005/04/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06416028487884124866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/149/335501931_a576a820ee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8336717.post-110383861594907463</id><published>2004-12-23T13:31:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T17:46:11.722-08:00</updated><title type='text'>It's Been A Long Time, We've Been Busy</title><content type='html'>As much as this will drive me nuts, I'm going to let Goofch blog with me today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hi. do you have any cookies?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shush, dude, they never have cookies, You always ask and they always say No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i just like cookies, it cant hurt to ask.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK, OK. Point taken. Anyway, we've been really far too busy to blog for awhile. You see, someone in the neighborhood is leaving deer legs around, and we're really busy trying to find them all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i like deer legs they are fun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, well, they'd be more fun if you'd let me chew on them now and then, instead of hogging them all to yourself. But it's still pretty cool. The People have also left a really terrific brush pile in the backyard and there are some really great and tasty bugs in there. I also think that there are some aliens living in there, too. I've been having Goofch do some earth-moving chores for me so we can eventually tunnel underneath the brush pile and infiltrate the alien facility. Just a few more days...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i like digging because it stops modean from biting my butt&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, well, you know. You gotta keep the help from getting lazy. There are some other things going on. Yesterday I got to spend THE WHOLE DAY at the VET! Wow, it was GREAT! I love the vet. Those people are just wrapped around my paw. They scratch me, and poke me, and coo-coo-coo at me. And then they give me cookies. Which I don't really want to eat, but whatever. And I guess that's why I went to the vet. The People keep hollering at me to eat because I'm soooo svelte. I've managed to drop down to Calista Flockhart-style bony weight, and I'm proud of it! The People keep trying to temp me into eating by putting heavy cream and eggs into my food, and they put liver treats and hot water for gravy. But I still think I look better skinny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i was sooooo saaaad yesterday because i was at home alllll alone. i hate being alone i like my brother modean he helps me learn important stuff and tells me how to be a good dog like getting on the furniture and eating out of the trash can. i love modean he is my best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SHHH, I'm still talking. Today I saw The People crying after they talked to the vet. I didn't catch all of it, but now they're being extra-cuddly to me and saying things like "It's not supposed to happen to small dogs" and "What ever happened to hybrid vigor."  They called me their "little Lance Armstrong" and said something about metastasized lung thingies, whatever the heck that means. I'll have to do some internet research. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, if I'm Lance Armstrong, then where are all the CHICKS? And where is my very own BICYCLE? Now, I could have FUN with my very own bicycle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i love bicycles. i get to go mountain biking with mom in the woods and i chase deer and she chases me and it is so much funfunfunfun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, OK, don't rub it in just because you get to go mountain biking all the time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope The People cheer up soon. This weekend we're all going to visit The GrandPeople in the New Burnn. Daisy will be there and I just KNOW she's going to try to eat my ears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Merry Christmas, everyone!&lt;br /&gt;berrykissmoose!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lick, slurp, nudge.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8336717-110383861594907463?l=modeangoofch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/feeds/110383861594907463/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8336717&amp;postID=110383861594907463' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/110383861594907463'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/110383861594907463'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/2004/12/its-been-long-time-weve-been-busy.html' title='It&apos;s Been A Long Time, We&apos;ve Been Busy'/><author><name>Cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06416028487884124866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/149/335501931_a576a820ee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8336717.post-110080570892482377</id><published>2004-11-18T11:14:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T17:46:11.650-08:00</updated><title type='text'>humdedum</title><content type='html'>wawawawaaaaaa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;wowowowoooooo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lararalararalararaa&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;rooooowooroooooor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am practicing my calls so the people will feed me faster. it is getting cold outside and they have to bring me inside faster so i dont die of coldness so i have to call good and loud. i dont like being cold i dont have a lot of hair. a few days ago they let me wear my sweater. i like my sweater it is warm. modean doesnt like his sweater he says it gives him a wedgie. i dont know what that means, but it isnt fun and it doesnt taste good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;modean has been teaching me to dig he says i will be a good subject. i like being good. i like digging. he says i dig faster than him and that the people like it when we dig big holes in the yard. i want them to be happy with me so i just dig and dig wherever modean tells me to. yesterday i dug far enough that my whole body except my bottom fit into the hole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mom said i should blog more. it takes me a long time to write because i type slow. i am sorry i type so slow. do you have a cookie i havent eaten in days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8336717-110080570892482377?l=modeangoofch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/feeds/110080570892482377/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8336717&amp;postID=110080570892482377' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/110080570892482377'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/110080570892482377'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/2004/11/humdedum.html' title='humdedum'/><author><name>Cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06416028487884124866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/149/335501931_a576a820ee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8336717.post-110063739512450972</id><published>2004-11-16T13:28:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T17:46:11.570-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Fun Weekend</title><content type='html'>Our weekend was longer than normal. Our cousin Daisy came over. She always tries to chew on my head, which I hate. I yell at her to stop and she just ignores me. Grrrrrr.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am definitely making progress in my backyard digging. I have found that if I dig far enough, it gets warm. This leads me to believe that there is a warm core at the center of the earth. If I can reach this warm core, I'll be able to keep warm throughout the winter. If there is food and water there as well, then I will not have to go back into the house for any reason. This is promising. It might mean that I can stop sending out resumes and just live off the land-- or rather, the city at the center of the earth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goofch just doesn't realize that if he continues to rely on the humans for everything, he will never be independent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom's parents are here this week. Lady-that-looks-like-mom has the Tastiest legs in the WORLD. She wears this lotion that makes me Crazy. She's been wearing long pants to try to cover them up, but I know that soon she'll forget and wear shorts. I can wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8336717-110063739512450972?l=modeangoofch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/feeds/110063739512450972/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8336717&amp;postID=110063739512450972' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/110063739512450972'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/110063739512450972'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/2004/11/our-fun-weekend.html' title='Our Fun Weekend'/><author><name>Cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06416028487884124866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/149/335501931_a576a820ee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8336717.post-109656158309953176</id><published>2004-09-30T13:18:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T17:46:11.500-08:00</updated><title type='text'>dinner is better then breakfst</title><content type='html'>i ate a frog in the yard and it made a bad taste in my mouth so i likt the ground but there i likt mushrooms. then i saw a lot of colors and swirls, but modean got really big and tried to eat me so i ate a tree. later i woke up under the couch. my hed hurts&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;modean said we are going to aunt cookies house i love aunt cookie so much she makes us homemade cookies and has great toys to play with. there are nice people all around aunt cookies house they say stuff when i walk by. i dont understand what htey say but it must be nice. my cousin daisy says that they have speck for us big dogs. she says they have no speck for modean because he is small. they dont know that modean can eat them and the only way to stop it is to eat a tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;we met a lot of aunt cookies speckful neighbors when mom and dad went to the frantz and left us at camp knottypine for 2 weeks it was so fun. i got to lik childfingers, and i even got some popcicle and street flavored cookies from him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8336717-109656158309953176?l=modeangoofch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/feeds/109656158309953176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8336717&amp;postID=109656158309953176' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/109656158309953176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/109656158309953176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/2004/09/dinner-is-better-then-breakfst.html' title='dinner is better then breakfst'/><author><name>Cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06416028487884124866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/149/335501931_a576a820ee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8336717.post-109655857344804525</id><published>2004-09-30T11:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T17:46:11.425-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Vacation Plans and Modean the Travel Agent</title><content type='html'>Aunt Cookie!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We need a place to sleep the weekend after next. Our humans are going to Uvalde, TX for a wedding. Can we stay at camp Knotty Pine? We love it there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Woof,&lt;br /&gt;Modean &amp; Goofch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aunt Cookie said yes, and that she will try out her new cookie recipes on us. Last time she made chicken and peanut butter and they were good. I did get to try them, no thanks to Goo4ch who always tries to steal mine while I'm sniffing at it. He has no class. I am offered a treat, I like to sniff at it a bit, let its natural bouquet develop. Then I (GENTLY) remove it from the fingers of The Person offering it to me. No slobber, no putting the fingers in my mouth. But G-dogg? SO uncouth. He just takes the cookie, complete with drool and a PLOP sounds when his lips smack together. eeeewugh. At least I don't have to eat breakfast in the same room with him. And I've decided that I won't share a water dish with him anymore. He leaves drool-glub in the bowl and hogs all the water, and then drools most of it right onto my head when I try to drink, so forget it! From now on, I will only drink from the watering can that The People keep under the plant table. I don't think Goofch knows that it's there...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So back to the news. We'll be vacationing at camp Knotty Pine, and I've made arrangements for some leisure activities. Aunt cookie will feed us every morning between 5:30 and 7, and we will have some light exercise in the yard. During the mornings, we'll sleep on the tofu matress. Every 45 minutes we'll look out the window to see whether the drug dealers next door can see us. In the afternoons, we'll sleep near the window on the wood floor. After that, Aunt Cookie will lead us in some light exercise and dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've also made reservations for a hunting trip. Camp Knotty Pine is a full-service camp, complete with a supply of wildlife. I've only seen &lt;a href="http://www.catster.com/pet_page.php?i=60310&amp;amp;n=60309"&gt;one of them&lt;/a&gt;, but boy, is it ever a monster! I am sure that there are more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have also arranged for Goofch to have some sightseeing trips with &lt;a href="http://www.dogster.com/pet_page.php?i=37967"&gt;our cousin Daisy&lt;/a&gt;. I'll go along if Aunt Cookie promises to keep me and Daisy well separated, otherwise I'll do some hard time on the tofu matress.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll send a postcard!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8336717-109655857344804525?l=modeangoofch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/feeds/109655857344804525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8336717&amp;postID=109655857344804525' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/109655857344804525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/109655857344804525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/2004/09/vacation-plans-and-modean-travel-agent.html' title='Vacation Plans and Modean the Travel Agent'/><author><name>Cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06416028487884124866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/149/335501931_a576a820ee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8336717.post-109640556645540663</id><published>2004-09-28T16:53:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T17:46:11.340-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Working Dog</title><content type='html'>The People have recently endowed me with greater responsibility. Every weekend for the past few weeks, I've been expected to maintain clear airspace over the new house as well as the old house. The geese have been increasingly bold recently, engaging in fly-bys even in broad daylight. Something has emboldened them, and I've been working overtime to keep them at bay. This happened about a year ago, and at the time I only had one yard to manage. I scared them all away after a few months of steady alarms. But to maintain the international airspace over two houses? Don't they know I'm a very busy dog?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Goofch has been really annoying lately- he actually dared to edge me away from my own food dish today. Luckily, mom came by and rescued what was left of my breakfast and gave me a few extra liver chunks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I don't want to have to rely on The People for my meals. I've had little progress in the job market-- it's all fine until an prospective employer finds out that I'm a dog, and then it's all over. No more emails, nothing. Fine. I'll just have to raise capital another way. There is a good supply of fresh deer in The Woods outside. Next time The People aren't looking, I'm going to try to catch one. Then we'll just see who's eating kibble, eh? eh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8336717-109640556645540663?l=modeangoofch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/feeds/109640556645540663/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8336717&amp;postID=109640556645540663' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/109640556645540663'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/109640556645540663'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/2004/09/working-dog.html' title='Working Dog'/><author><name>Cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06416028487884124866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/149/335501931_a576a820ee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8336717.post-109638478932855159</id><published>2004-09-28T11:16:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T17:46:11.260-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i like to eat from both dishes</title><content type='html'>this morning i came in to eat my breakfst and modeans bowl was in my spot so i ate it but it was not much food so i found my bowl in modeans spot and ate it until mom came in and yelled at me. she must have thought i was extra hungry because she gave me another bowl of food. i am a good dog. i hope ia m a goobd dog tomorrow rtoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8336717-109638478932855159?l=modeangoofch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/feeds/109638478932855159/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8336717&amp;postID=109638478932855159' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/109638478932855159'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/109638478932855159'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/2004/09/i-like-to-eat-from-both-dishes.html' title='i like to eat from both dishes'/><author><name>Cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06416028487884124866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/149/335501931_a576a820ee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8336717.post-109588149645630365</id><published>2004-09-22T15:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T17:46:11.182-08:00</updated><title type='text'>deer are fun</title><content type='html'>last weekend mom and dad took us on a long walk in the big forest yard and i chased a bunch of deer and then we went home and i chased some more deer. this morning i chased a deer before breakfast and i was so hungry so i ate my food and then i ate modeans food and he bit me on my butt. then i saw a deer out the window but i couldnt smell it so i yelled at it to come closer but it couldnt hear me so i took a nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;modean has covered my part of the dog bed with a bunch of wires. he says heis making us a second lanline so we can have a laptop. that is so great because we need a  laptop. mom and dad have great laptops but modean is usually lying on them so i have to push him off to get to lie on their laptops. my favorite human named jess who comes over with big scary dan, she goes squealy-squeal when i put my head on her laptop. i love jess so much i hope modean gets her for our new laptop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8336717-109588149645630365?l=modeangoofch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/feeds/109588149645630365/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8336717&amp;postID=109588149645630365' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/109588149645630365'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/109588149645630365'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/2004/09/deer-are-fun.html' title='deer are fun'/><author><name>Cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06416028487884124866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/149/335501931_a576a820ee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8336717.post-109587911700311644</id><published>2004-09-22T14:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T17:46:11.092-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Modean's New Business Venture</title><content type='html'>Truffles. That's where the future lies. Our new backyard has every variety of mushroom growing, I've tried them all, and none would be commercially marketable as gourmet foods. But last night as I was digging up a mole tunnel, I smelled it. You can't miss that smell- truffles. They're underneath the tree that was struck by lightning. So I spent most of the evening digging and digging but I wasn't able to gather any before mom came out and made me come inside. To add insult to injury, she had to clean off my feet before she'd let me in the house. I hate that. Leave my damn feet alone, woman!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this morning I made a little more headway, and then big stupidhead Goofch had to come over and lie down right in the middle of where I was digging. So my search for venture capital will have to be postponed until this evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little victories: Today I figured out how to wire our bachelor pad for a second phone line, and once I can get a laptop computer we'll be able to surf the web without having to use the upstairs computer. All that without the use of thumbs, thank-you-very-much!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8336717-109587911700311644?l=modeangoofch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/feeds/109587911700311644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8336717&amp;postID=109587911700311644' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/109587911700311644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/109587911700311644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/2004/09/modeans-new-business-venture.html' title='Modean&apos;s New Business Venture'/><author><name>Cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06416028487884124866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/149/335501931_a576a820ee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8336717.post-109534222846743969</id><published>2004-09-17T16:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T17:46:10.932-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Backyard Chores</title><content type='html'>Last night The People put us out to do yard-defense for several hours and I made quite a bit of progress on the anti-mole front. I've dug several trenches for weather protection and safety cover that also serve the purpose of blocking the mole-tunnels. I was sidelined a few times by a renegade deer and by Goofch trying to goof around while I worked. The biggest obstacle at this point is a big brown tree that I know has somebody living beneath it. I'm working towards digging it up. I'll be very glad when it finally falls, although it might pose a problem for the nice guys who live next door. But that's not my problem, so, beh!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If anyone can suggest a better method for tree removal besides digging, please let me know. The People are no help at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and can you believe this?? Mom took Goofch for ANOTHER bike ride in the woods yesterday, and left me behind AGAIN! It's SO unfair!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8336717-109534222846743969?l=modeangoofch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/feeds/109534222846743969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8336717&amp;postID=109534222846743969' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/109534222846743969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/109534222846743969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/2004/09/backyard-chores.html' title='Backyard Chores'/><author><name>Cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06416028487884124866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/149/335501931_a576a820ee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8336717.post-109535968801773700</id><published>2004-09-16T11:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T17:46:11.017-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>my feelings were hurt this morning and i was sadddd. i was sleeping in the kitchen with mom and she was making food and she stepped on me. i must be a bad dog or she would not have stepped on me. but then she pet me and scratched my ears and i guess it was okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am hungry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;modean is hogging the dog pillow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i am hungry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i hope modean wakes up soon so i can sleep on the dog pillow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;yesterday modean found the spellingbee and i wanted the spelling bee so bad so i pounded him. then dad sat on me and i couldnot reach spellingbee and modean chewed on it and i was jealous. i will pound him now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;now i have the whole dog pillow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8336717-109535968801773700?l=modeangoofch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/feeds/109535968801773700/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8336717&amp;postID=109535968801773700' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/109535968801773700'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/109535968801773700'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/2004/09/my-feelings-were-hurt-this-morning-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06416028487884124866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/149/335501931_a576a820ee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8336717.post-109534057554628142</id><published>2004-09-16T05:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T17:46:10.859-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Exercise Log</title><content type='html'>This morning I worked out with Malek. He's a friend from the neighborhood who is about three times as big as Goofch, but he's not as smart, if that's even possible. He comes over some mornings for a game of wrestling and sometimes I tie him up in my leash, which makes it pretty easy to chew on him. It's like shooting fish in a barrel. This morning, after I hogtied Malek, I managed to back out of my collar. I stood upon him like a victory mountain. Then he got untangled and threw me around, so I headed for the back door and asked mom to let me in. She gave me breakfast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best progress was I got my stink back after The People gave me a bath the other day. Usually it takes longer but there were some ripe lizards I had in storage for just this kind of situation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8336717-109534057554628142?l=modeangoofch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/feeds/109534057554628142/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8336717&amp;postID=109534057554628142' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/109534057554628142'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/109534057554628142'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/2004/09/exercise-log.html' title='Exercise Log'/><author><name>Cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06416028487884124866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/149/335501931_a576a820ee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8336717.post-109527229171142678</id><published>2004-09-15T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T17:46:10.777-08:00</updated><title type='text'>i like cookies a lot</title><content type='html'>hi iam goofch. i wanted to have a chance to tell you about the kinds of cookies i like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;peanut butter&lt;br /&gt;cheese&lt;br /&gt;spinach&lt;br /&gt;frog&lt;br /&gt;corn&lt;br /&gt;wheat&lt;br /&gt;beef&lt;br /&gt;chicken&lt;br /&gt;liver&lt;br /&gt;bird&lt;br /&gt;grasshopper&lt;br /&gt;grass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;if you have an y of these vcookies can i have them please&lt;br /&gt;none for modean he doesnt like to eat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8336717-109527229171142678?l=modeangoofch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/feeds/109527229171142678/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8336717&amp;postID=109527229171142678' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/109527229171142678'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/109527229171142678'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/2004/09/i-like-cookies-lot.html' title='i like cookies a lot'/><author><name>Cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06416028487884124866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/149/335501931_a576a820ee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8336717.post-109525197646899504</id><published>2004-09-15T05:28:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2006-11-13T17:46:10.687-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome To Our Blog</title><content type='html'>Hey, I'm Modean. I live with a roommate named Goofch. We get bored. We started a blog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We live in a small room under the stairs. I know where the cookies are stored. I'm not usually hungry but it's good to know these things so that after I take over The House, I'll know where to find food. I also know where there is a secret stash of clean water in the plant-watering pitcher. I haven't told Goofch about that yet because he'll eat and drink all the emergency supplies before we have a chance to stage our coup.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I like to think of Goofch as my army, and I am his general. He'll do what I tell him to, but his loyalty is tenuous. As soon as The People come home, he's all about them. Now don't get me wrong- I love the people. They scratch me and feed me and control The House. But I have higher ambitions than to be someone's dog. I want to be a homeowner. I want to run a small business. I want to control energy prices and hold offshore accounts. I'm more than happy to let The People work for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, in the meantime, I'm staying below the radar and playing this dog-pet thing. I can make slow progress with an internet connection and a few credit cards. Already I've sold off most of our less desirable towels on EBay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm also teaching Goofch to type. I can't be his scribe forever. That guy's got to learn to do a few things for himself. He'll try his "hand" with a new entry later on today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have comments, but I can't figure out how to keep the Haloscan comments and drop the Blogger comments. Use the one at the bottom for comments.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8336717-109525197646899504?l=modeangoofch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/feeds/109525197646899504/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8336717&amp;postID=109525197646899504' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/109525197646899504'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8336717/posts/default/109525197646899504'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://modeangoofch.blogspot.com/2004/09/welcome-to-our-blog.html' title='Welcome To Our Blog'/><author><name>Cat</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06416028487884124866</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/149/335501931_a576a820ee.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
