Well, I hope you had immense fun sniffing and surfing around my site.  If you get an itch to contact me, you can find my virtual self at phineasthedog@yahoo.com.

I hope you write!  I don't get email often, but when I do, boy do I get EXCITED.  And I promise to write back to each and every letter.  That is, until I get too famous to be able to keep up with all the mail. (According to Momma Bomma, that won't be for quite some time. . .  WHATEVAH, MOM!)  

I'd say you could call me too, but Momma Bomma won't let me give out my phone number over the Internet.  She says I'm not a "phone type-a-guy," whatever that means.  (In actuality, I think I'm a great conversationalist, but whatever.)  I think her real  reason is that she thinks there're too many psychos out there that would crank call us.  (Between you and me, I don't remember her being so distrustful.  After all, she had enough faith to take ME in!)

I dunno.  Maybe as you get older, you start to lose trust in people.  (Humans do, any-way. Us dogs are full of trust -- not to mention devastatingly good looks and undying friendship -- from the moment we're born until the day we (sniff!) die.) Anyway, now that I think of it, Momma Bomma is pretty dang old. One-hundred-and-ninety-six years old, in fact! (In dog years, that is.)

Well, I hope that never happens to you. I hope you don't lose your faith in people. (In fact, it really hasn't happened to her*.  I'm just busting her pork chops, as they say.)  I hope -- as the great Robert Zimmerman says -- "May your heart always be joyful, may your song always be sung, may you stay forever young."

* Except for when she waits tables.  Eventually, after one lousy tip too many, Momma Bomma not only loses her faith in people, but goes a bit postal.  The moral of this footnote?  TIP YOUR WAITRESSES! (And waiters, and bartenders, and service people in general.)  If you can't afford to leave a good tip, YOU SHOULDN'T BE GOING OUT TO EAT IN THE FIRST PLACE!  Even I  know that, and I'm a dog!