Woof! It's good to be back at the White House, after that god-forsaken island where there was nothing but golf, golf, and more golf. Here I get treats from the kitchen and regular trips outside to do my business on the lawn. My master loves to take me out, too, and encourages me to dig up selected vegetables from my mistress's vegetable garden. A few unearthed broccoli plants [he detests broccoli] will usually earn me ten minutes' chasing a tennis ball. There was an interesting development today. The doctor whom Valerie Jarrett brought secretly to Martha's Vineyard a few days ago, was in the private quarters of the White House today and listened patiently as my master stretched out on a sofa and spoke at great length. My master was gabbling about some Russian guy who keeps calling him. My master seemed very vulnerable. Who knew? Woof!