let it snow!

So this snowstorm was no disappointment. I woke up this morning to ELEVENTY INCHES! I'm not quite sure how tall that is, but it's pretty deep - I had to prance through the snow to get through. I got to walk in it before it was gray and gone through - I got my picture taken a ton of times. I love to shovel through the snow with my nose - I'm like a little plow.







I went home and took a nap in my house, and then I got to go in the car with my adopteds and two of their friends. The friends have an older boxer named Ming. I met Ming when I was very wee - I haven't seen her since! She's had some troubles - she has alopecia and just got over cancer, so I thought we could swap skin stories. I liked to play with her a LOT, but I don't think she liked me as much. Her adopteds put her outside with me, and she just kept running back to the door. But I had fun! I love Ming.

Here she is running away from me:


and again...


but then I try to sneak her:


and then we're friends!


It's cold, I'm going to hide under some blankets and do something called "rearranging closets". Wish me luck - it sounds scary!

OTL.

sleep, snow and tough days

So I was absent for a day. I apologize. I had to go BACK to the vet. I saw my friends there, though - I love the girls who work there. I got all sorts of medicine to cure what ails me. Hopefully it'll work. It's cutting seriously into my toy budget.
I slept most of last night, and a good part of today. I love it when I'm allowed to sleep in the bed. I'm TRYING to get them to let me in the bed all night, but I haven't quite convinced them.
See how cute I am? How could they NOT let me?

The face of an ANGEL, I tell you.

I love to sleep on the couch, too. Preferably under the blankets. I was doing so this fine, snowy evening (something called a Nor'Easter! Are there eggs involved? Bunnies? Cannot be sure, but very excited for it nonetheless). All of a sudden, there was movement - commotion, if you will. The adopteds were leaving me! They were going out! I was so comfy and warm - I gave them my best sleeping-on-the-couch, pleas-don't-leave face, but it didn't work.


But they were remarkably kind. They carried me in my blanket to my new lean-to. It was a very kind gesture, and I was happy to not have to move too much.





I was so grateful that I decided to do a little dance...


and finish off with some kisses! You have to look closely, but I've ALMOST got her!


It's late and snowy - I'm off to my real house to go to sleep. Tomorrow, I will conquer the snow!

OTL.

cooking is not like the food channel

So in my house, we watch the Food Channel all the time. Iron Chef, Iron Chef America, Good Eats - these are on in the house with as much regularity as any Law and Order. It seems so easy - buzzing around the kitchen, pots and pans at the ready. Things like quail eggs and shaved truffles just waiting to be used.
Much to my surprise, real life cooking - at least in my house - is nothing like that. The ingredients come out of plastic bags that are fun to play with. Nothing is, as they say, "prepped". Ovens need to be heated, cheese needs to be grated, sauce un-jarred. All to make mysterious lasagna.
I don't know what it is, but I discovered I like mozzarella. I was treated to my first table scraps when I got a bit passed down to me.


This is me performing my one trick - down. All for a piece of mozzarella! I'm going to go to Beginner School soon at PetSmart, since I'm too old for puppy school. I'm looking forward to learning tricks.



Out of nowhere, there was this horrible shrill sound that didn't stop until we waved a towel flag at the ceiling. Something about a "goddamn stupid smoke detector and there's no smoke"? Not sure what that means - the sound is just AWFUL, though.




This morning I'm home with a friend, so I have to go play.
OTL.

homesick

I'm back in the city. I miss the country, I miss my best friends, and the nice soft carpet to pee on (hey, it was an accident. I SAID I was sorry). I did come home with nice aired out linens and a new purple harness, so it wasn't all a loss.
I'm tired, though, so just enjoy these pictures.


Me and Bdog on the couch. Those two marks on his knee are from surgery. He said it had something to do with Boomer and being shanked, but I'm not sure I buy it.


On your mark...


get set...


GO!


Eadweard Muybridge has nothing on me. And extra points to you if you get the reference.


Home, trying to feign excitement.

OTL.

*special thanks to gentle reader P for pointing out an error. One can never be too correct.

best friends

So I'm in the country. I hit the dog park again last night - it was alright. Not the same without my buddy Margeaux (gay French name from her gay French adopted) - but we're not allowed to play anymore because I have a ton of scratches on me. I think it gives me character, but it also makes me look like an unloved shelter dog. Which I am not.
I digress.
I'm in the country with my best friends this weekend. There is Barrett the boxer - he's the best. He's not entirely sure what I'm all about. He's almost 9, but he's never been around too many dogs. He seems to like me enough, but I LOVE him. I do. He is teaching me how to be subversive with the begging, and how to knock over baby gates. He tricked me into eating a "Jalapeno Potato Chip" - whatever the hell that is, I'm never having one ever again.

This is Barrett checking me out when I first came in. Did I say that I love him? He's just the best:



There is also a 3.5 legged cat named Boomer, for Boomer Esiason when the Bengals were in the Superbowl - which makes him approximately 17 which is approximately 35x my age. I sniffed him while he was on the chair and then he threw up. Without getting up.
It was disguting, yet impressive:




This is me announcing how happy I am to be here:


Until I had to have a bath. Because of my skin condition, I have to have a bath 2x a week with special shampoo for 10 minutes. This is just some kind of Commie vet bullshit - it's awful! Anyway - at least I look cute:



And you KNOW i'm tricky:


Off to look for the mysterious white cat they call Pita.

OTL.

this is why dogs bite

First, I know this is a day late. Something was wrong with this site yesterday - so I wasn't able to post when I wanted to. Then, I went to the dog park (pictures to come - it's the most amazing place in the world), and fell asleep in the bed on someone's head and woke up at 4am because I wasn't used to going to sleep so early and it was just... It was a long night.
I digress.

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH PEOPLE? I realize, Colombian drug dealers are not the bastions of kindness and compassion. But seriously, using PUPPIES to carry drugs? Did they get a free hit? Or was it a business only kind of deal? I don't know which was more appalling - the topic, or the NY Post's terrible puns, including "doggedly" and "bite" (you have to read it. It's bad).

I mean, seriously. I get that they were labs - labs are big stupids. They probably just sat there and wagged their backsides and licked the air while having these assholes perform surgery on them. If they tried to use boxers, man - they'd come back with only one eye and an story no one would believe.

Puppies and dogs (and yes, even labs) are meant for loving. And licking. And hugging. And petting and running and going to the park and pooping and saying hi and being cute and obnoxious all at the same tie. They're not for drug running. If a person makes that choice, well, they're stupid and they might die. But puppies don't HAVE the option to say no.

If I ever see a Colombian drug lord in my neighborhood, I'm going to bite his hands off.

Here's a rare picture of me and my adopted - you won't see her often, as this is about me - but this is just a reminder:
THIS IS WHAT PUPPIES ARE FOR, YOU FUCKHEADS.




Pictures and stories from the park later.
OTL.

Happy Birthday To Me, sort of

Thanks to those who passed along birthday wishes. I thought I would share what I got.


A scarf. A fucking scarf. Are you KIDDING ME? What am I supposed to DO with it?

Ah, of course...

eat it!

Thanks to all - now if you'll excuse me, I have some cake to eat.

camping in the kitchen

So I have a vacation home. A cabin, if you will. Well, it's more shack than cabin.
I can't lie.
It's a lean-to.

It was purchased before the holidays, as an easy alternative to my regular house. It folds up into a 12" disc, and snaps back into shape remarkably fast (this is where you take the "do not aim near eyes" warning very seriously). It's lovely. I use it for car trips, for vacationing in the country (which I am this weekend) - I also use it as my safe haven during the day.

During the day, I live in the kitchen. It has everything I could want - toys (but safe ones), my beds (two, even!), food, water, linoleum, rugs, and my lean-to. I'll often tuck myself into the lean-to after pulling things off the countertops, to reflect and relax. Between my lean-to and my ˆHow to be Zenˆcd, it's perfect.

Until the lean-to collapsed. Around me. I may be young, but I'm not small. Trying to get out of that was like a game of Ôperationˆgone horribly, horribly wrong.

I was sort of stuck. And somehow, I'd gotten halfway across the room. But no matter - I had my trusty elephant by my side.


See - I wasn't kidding. The walls are supposed to be UPRIGHT.


Help was on its way!


The help sucked, so I lifted my shoulders and PUSHED my way out, like a Lindsay Lohan leaving a hospital.


Linoleum = food of the future.


I love being on the bed. It's a wonderful, delightful place - things to chew on, socks to sniff, contact lens holders to attempt to steal, coats to burrow in - what could be better?

It's time for my first evening walk, I must be going. Time to greet the bums on the street with a cheerful smile to brighten their day! I never understand why I get pulled away from them - they taste - well. It's undescribable.

Off to lick!