My Fifteenth Birthday

From these humble beginnings...

...grew a mature (and devilishly handsome) dog
who turns 15 years old today!

 

Bloopers and Behind the Scenes:

Hitch-Hikers, Sail Squirrels, and Flo

As a distinguished (and devilishly handsome) senior, one might assume that my days are filled with meandering walks, long naps in the sun, and hours of screaming “get off my lawn” at the top of my lungs at every passing squirrel, mailman, and figment of my imagination.  Well, my life is anything but structured and boring (though I do spend many an hour screaming “get off my lawn” at all creatures great, small, and imaginary).  Here’s three things that happened to me over the last couple of weeks. 

Hitch-Hikers:

Bumble bees have suddenly taken to landing on my back and hitch-hiking across the yard.  And it wasn’t a one-off thing…it happened twice in two days last week! I’m really at a loss for why this is happening; it’s not like I’ve recently received a bath and smell like that nasty lavender shampoo my family slathers on me—I’m pleasantly stinky thank you very much.

Flo:

Flo is the Golden Retriever who lives down the road who I routinely meet up with during my walks.  She mooches pets from my Pa and I mooch pets from her Pa.  Then we go our separate ways.  Well one day last week, I was hanging out inside the house and all of a sudden I sensed movement on my deck and started barking hysterically.  Turns out, it was Flo—she had wandered onto my deck when her dad stopped by to talk to my dad.  Anyway, Ma opened the door to see what was going on and would you believe it?! Flo just walked right into my house like she owned the place.  Now, Flo is generally cool (you’ve got to appreciate anyone who has trained the mailman to leave a daily delivery of chicken meatballs in your mailbox…not that I’m jealous or anything) but to just invite yourself in to someone else’s house?  That’s a bit much. 

Sail Squirrel:

On our daily walks, Pa and I come across a dead squirrel that has been decomposing on the side of the road for weeks now.  He’s been around for so long that my family has even given him a name, “Cadaver Bob.”  Everyday, I walk up to Cadaver Bob and give him a sniff.  Then I look up at Pa inquisitively.  “You can leave him,” Pa assures me and I’m like “Yeah, I wouldn’t touch that thing with a ten-foot pole. Why hasn’t anyone done anything about the body yet?” 

 

Easter 2024

I tried.

I tried to stay up all night to watch for that stupid little white-tailed breaking-and-entering Easter bunny. I even went way under cover and dressed the part in hopes of luring him into a false sense of security before I chased him away and exposed him to the world as the scaredy bunny he is.  But as the night progressed, my eyes got heavier and heavier and I swear I only intended close them for a moment.

Well, long story short, the stupid bunny made it into the house without my knowing it and left jelly beans, marshmallows, and a chocolate T-Rex.  But, while I definitely don’t condone breaking and entering and it's not a treat I'm allowed to have, the bunny does get points for the dinosaur shaped chocolate (just don't tell him I said s0)..

 So, in the end, I'm wishing you, my loyal readers, a very

Happy Easter

and if that stupid little white-tailed breaking-and-entering Easter bunny managed to get past your security system this morning, don’t beat yourself up over it.  He’s sneaky.

 

 

 

 

Bloopers:

 

 

The Threat of an Early Easter

I keep hearing that this year is going to be an early Easter.  Now I have no idea exactly what that means time-wise, but as soon as I heard, I immediately went into high alert.  As everyone knows, Easter is a holiday built around a crime scene.  Every Easter, some stupid little breaking-and-entering fluffy tailed bunny goes around and tries to force its way into the homes of the unsuspecting populace.  As Head of Security, I can’t have this.  No bunny is going to breach security and eat all the carrots in my house!  Those carrots belong in only one place:  My dinner bowl! 

So, the security level right now in my house is high.  I’m constantly checking perimeters, spying around corners, and snoozing with one eye open.  No stupid little fluffy tailed bunny with a rap sheet is going to infiltrate my house on my watch!

But then I had a security scare a few days ago. 

I was making my mid-morning rounds, when suddenly I discovered, to my extreme horror, an Easter basket sitting in the middle of the living room floor.  I approached it cautiously.  How could that stupid little bunny get past all my security measures? 

I gave the basket a sniff hoping that maybe, with a good enough whiff, I’d be able to track the bunny from the basket to its entry and exit points. 

But there was no bunny scent.  Turns out the basket was merely a decoration—a decorative Easter basket—forgotten in the middle of the living room by Ma when she was distracted while decorating for the criminal bunny’s anticipated arrival.

A side note:  I’ve known for a while that any time that stupid little Easter bunny has managed to breach my security, Ma was acting as its accomplice in the background.  I’m sure this is merely a case of Stockholm Syndrome; Ma wouldn’t betray me otherwise. 

So anyway, faced with this forgotten basket, I decided to explore it in hopes of finding a stuffed animal to disembowel or maybe some long forgotten jelly beans.  I found neither, but I did find something. 

A couple of minutes later, Pa wandered into the room and saw me lying in the middle of the rug, my lips puffed out by something I obviously had hidden in my mouth.  Pa sat down beside me and removed from my mouth a decorative plaster Easter egg.  Slobbery egg in hand, Pa got up and placed it on the end table.  He then looked back at me.  Well, apparently, I lack a poker face because Pa knelt down again and pried my mouth open only to discover that I had a second decorative plaster Easter egg stuffed in there (and this one was stuck to my tooth…plaster is no match for large gnashing teeth).  Having extracted the second slobbery egg from my mouth, Pa began roughing me up in jest.  And what did he discover?  I had a third egg tucked up under my chest. 

So unfortunately, I lost all my plaster eggs before I was able to destroy them properly (though I got them all slobbery enough for Ma to ultimately decide to throw them out shortly thereafter).  But the good news is that there was no breach in security that day; the Easter bunny did not get in.

But Easter is coming and the threat is still very real.

A Pillow Tragedy

Hi there!

Okay, no more surprise extreme close ups, but I am going to horrify you with the absolutely unthinkable thing that Ma did to me a couple of weeks ago (yeah, Sister is just getting around to transcribing this for me…it’s very hard to get good help these days).  Anyway, Ma did something so mean that even now, weeks later, I find it hard to relate to you my loyal and understanding readers.  But I’ll be strong.  Here it comes: 

Ma washed my pillows!

I know!  Talk about the ultimate betrayal! 

Now, it goes without saying that I had worked long and hard to make my pillows, as Ma calls them, “stinky.”  And what thanks did I get: my pillows stripped of their smelliness by the washing machine?  It’s disgusting! 

But I will say, although Ma ultimately won the battle and my pillows got washed, I did not make it easy on her.  Throughout the experience, I employed my most formidable weapons: stubbornness, dead weight, sarcasm, and sad eyes. 

I planted myself on the outer shell of my pillow, prepared to go limp and unliftable, preventing Ma from throwing it in the laundry.

I expressed my extreme loss and disappointment through sad eyes while lying on the naked insides of my pillow.

I sarcastically threw myself across my pillow, discarded in a heap in the corner of the room, when Ma tried to put the newly cleaned shell back on.

St. Patrick's Day, 2024

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Word to the wise:  Keep an eye out for leprechauns...they are almost as annoying as stupid little fluffy tailed bunnies.