Heyden was concerned that the tales of his recent brushes with death might make him sound like he was losing his zip. He wants to assure you his appetite for all paper products has not diminished and that given the opportunity to nab a pretzel on top of the bar, he'll happily and recklessly employ his toothpick strong legs to get himself up there. While he acknowledges that he is unable to hear his name or "no!" screamed directly in to his ear, he can, utilizing some kind of questionable witchcraft, ascertain when we are working in the apartment below and let loose the stressful barks and cries of separation anxiety to his advantage. He is particularly proud of that skill. His message...
"Hi (ow)- I'm (ow) o.k. (ow)"
- Heyden
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