Happy Turkey Day 2019!

Happy Turkey Day 2019!

Catch and Release

"Goulies and ghosties and long-leggedy beasties and things that go bump in the night."

It's a tough world out there.  There are hidden dangers everywhere one looks from slamming car doors to mailmen to stupid little half squirrel half bunny hybrids.  But one mustn't change one's ways and give in to the terrors that surround us; do that and the terrorists win.  No, instead one must go about one's business and take initiative whenever possible.  And that is exactly what I did not long ago.  I fought off one of those “things that go bump in the night.”  The terrorists won’t win on my watch!

Dead Asleep

So here’s what happened.  It was 9:45pm and Pa had just rousted me for my final business trip of the night.  I wasn’t thrilled about the idea--I would have much preferred to have continued my nap and woken him up somewhere around the 3 o’clock hour--but I knew that I would never hear the end of complaints if I did, so I begrudgingly got up and met him at the side door.  On went my leash, on went Pa’s jacket, on went the side light, and finally, Pa opened the side door.

As soon as the door opened, I could smell it.  There was something out there and that something was very close.  Within an instant, my nose and legs teamed up and I bolted out the door (leaving Pa stumbling behind me) and ran hard toward the front gate.  Growling, I made a bee-line for the corner of the gate, opened my mouth, and--CHOMP!--I bit down on something soft and fleshy.

Shocked (I've never caught anything before), I released my catch and watched as it turned, hit the ground, ran past a floundering Pa, and scurried off down the driveway toward the backyard.  With a guttural half-growl half-bark, I immediately took off after the intruder—running past Pa who was scrambling to get up.

I tracked the scent to the area around Pa's car, but try as I might (I circled, I backtracked, I stomped through Ma's garden), I wasn't able to find the creature.

Sister, meanwhile, having heard all the shouting, barking, and growling, came running out of the house in time to see me, with Pa hot on my tail, circling the car.  By right, she could have just turned around and gone back into the house, however, based on the sounds she had heard, she knew that this wasn't just a game so instead she went in, grabbed a flashlight, and came running back out to help.

By the time Sister joined the fray, Pa had managed to stumble over to me, grab my leash, and drag me back into the house.  With me safely inside, Pa and Sister started investigating and discovered, underneath the car, a large pointy-nosed, long-tailed, beady-eyed opossum blinking back at them.  Having identified the creature, Pa and Sister came back inside to check on me (I was fine) and alert Ma (who had missed everything) of the events.

The Skull I Dug Up

Now, loyal readers might recall an event just over three years ago where I dug up an opossum skull.  As horrifying as that was, let me tell you, this was much more horrifying.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, I was now running on pure adrenaline and the idea of sleep (it was now almost 10:30pm) was far from my mind.  For the next hour or so, I kept running to the door, barking to go out.  Ma and Pa knew what I wanted, they knew that I wanted to go check on my property, however, they were interested in going to sleep (and not interested in wrestling me away from the opossum) so I was kept inside.  Sulking, I eventually made my way upstairs to bother Sister.  I dug on the carpet, I howled, barked, and yodeled, and I slunk around looking for trouble.  Eventually, desperate to keep me quiet, Sister sat down on the floor with me and rubbed by ears until I fell asleep. 

I didn't sleep well that night.  I had dream after dream and ended up waking Sister up multiple times while yipping in my sleep.

The next morning, after waiting for Pa to check the perimeter first (I might be Head of Security, but I'm not stupid), I stormed out of the side door and ran straight to the car.  I sniffed high, I sniffed low.  I traipsed through more of Ma's plants and I searched the backyard.  The opossum was nowhere to be found.

Halloween 2019

Happy Halloween!

^^..^^

Sleepwalking

A little over a week ago, I returned home after spending two weeks out east with Ma and Pa. I had a lot of fun during that vacation. I played with Flo the Golden Retriever two doors down, bunked noses with Bruno the Boxer next door, and helped Pa shellac the porch (yes, I currently have shellac on my head). I also got into a bit of a snag with a sticky trap, but the less said about that the better.

Sister, meanwhile, was holding down the fort at home which sadly did not include baking me homemade cookies or buying me a store-full of squeaky toys. She told me that she kept an eye on the squirrel population for me while I was gone, but I know she has a soft spot for that stupid little half squirrel half bunny hybrid Stumpy, so I’m not overly convinced she maintained any order.

Anyway, when I got home from vacation, Sister was nowhere to be seen because she was still at work. I was disappointed not to be able to greet Sister after so much time apart, however, I was also really exhausted so I decided to pass the time waiting for her by snoozing in the bedroom.

A few hours later, a commotion in the kitchen woke me up from my slumber. After a big long yawn and stretch, I wandered out of the bedroom and into the kitchen to find Sister telling Ma about her day. Happy to see her, I quickly grabbed a toy (I greet every family member or visitor I see with a toy of some sort) and scurried over to Sister’s side. Sister gave my ears a rub, laughed, then turned towards Ma. “Looks like someone decided to say hello while awake this time,” she said.

My ears squared. What did Sister mean by that?

A little while later, I heard the following story:

When Sister first arrived home, I immediately stumbled out of the bedroom and met her at the side door. Needing something to greet her with, I reached over and grabbed my towel off the banister leading downstairs. Then, I just stood there—towel draped from my mouth, my tail still, and my ears down.

Sister touched my nose. It was dry. She then bent down and looked me in the eyes. They were empty, dark, unfocused, and expressionless. Sister then laughed and looked up at Ma. “I think he’s sleepwalking,” Sister said.

I stood in front of Sister, towel in my mouth, for another minute or so before turning around and shuffling back into the bedroom.

And that’s where I stayed for another five minutes until Sister and Ma’s conversation woke me up.

Visiting My Estate with Baci

Baci

We had been friends for a while, Baci and I, even though we had never actually met snout to snout.  Sure, I'd hear tales of him from conversations his Mom and my Sister would have (and I'm sure Sister shared quite a few overly exaggerated stories about my daily forays into mischief because she's that kind of person), but Baci and I were, essentially, unknown to each other.  But then, a couple of weekends ago and after nearly a year and a half of listening to stories, I was beyond happy to hear that I was finally going to meet Baci.  And even better, I found out that I was going to meet him at my estate (AKA Old Westbury Gardens) at their Fidos at Four event.

For those of you who don’t know, Baci is a 16-month-old Silver Labrador Retriever who calls Sister’s friend Gina "Mom."  From day one, I knew that Baci was a really cool guy even though I most certainly did not understand his love of swimming or why he got eggs for breakfast and I never did (I only get my kibble, a small pretzel, a single Cheerio, and maybe a blueberry if it's in season).

Anyway, as soon as I found out what was going on, I went into my normal routine of excitement overdose (pacing, barking, whining, running in and out of the house, stealing shoes and socks as Sister tried putting them on, and, of course, drooling all over the place).  When I got in the car I paced, huffed, drooled, and generally drove Sister (the driver) crazy.

Baci Leading the Way

Needless to say, by the time we reached my estate, I was pretty much exhausted.  But me being me, I dug deep and managed to find enough energy to drag Sister from the parking lot to “Rigby’s wall” located directly in front of the house (see my profile picture featuring a very young yours truly and his namesake wall).  Not that long after arriving, Sister knelt down next to me and whispered “There’s Baci” in my ear.

And there he was, pulling his Mom up the path just like I had a few minutes earlier.

With a wag of the tail and a nose bunk, Baci and I said our hellos.  Then I said hello to Gina while Baci said hi to Sister.  Gina tried to give me a treat in greeting, but as my loyal readers know, I’m very suspicious of freely offered food and immediately spit the cookie out onto the ground and walked away (Baci then swooped in and ate the cookie himself).

Art of Water Bottle Drinking

Once our greetings were over, we set off to explore the estate.  I took Baci to all my favorite spots, we bunked noses with a whole bunch of dogs (there was an especially large number of cousins present), I taught Baci how to drink out of a water bottle, and we were good boys and didn't cause too much drama when either Gina or Sister held both our leashes when the other stepped away for a moment.

Overall, a grand time was had by all (though I did notice Baci looking longingly toward the two ponds and one reflecting pool we passed on our travels).

Baci and I Twining

 

Outtakes

Find the Loophole

Lizard Sans Tail

I've learned a lot over my ten human years on this planet.  I've learned that if you insist long enough and persistently enough, even Pa will let you sleep on the furniture.  I've learned that it's far easier to go through your entire repertoire of tricks rather than listen for the one that's requested of you.  I've learned that every once in a while a perfectly normal looking bush will suddenly sprout pizza slices, that if you jump out of a moving vehicle once you will never live it down, and that you can never trust a creature that is missing its tail (Stumpy) or willing to jettison its tail at will (those annoying lizards).  But all of these important lessons (plus scores of others) pale in comparison to the number one thing that I have learned:  for every rule there is at least one loophole.  And it has been my goal in life to discover each and every one of those loopholes and take full advantage of them.

Below are two examples of my favorite loopholes and how I use them to my advantage.

Example One:
Begging for Food

I'm a big fan of food.  I like all types.  I love my kibble and I love Milkbones.  I love smelly disgusting treats and I love all types of human food from cheese to Cheerios to steak (except lettuce...I just don't get lettuce).  But one of my all-time favorite foods is ice cream and lucky for me, not only does my family have ice cream most evenings, but they always save me a little taste.

But the thing is, I’m not allowed to beg for food. It’s a rule that has been in place since I was a tiny little ball of fur with large gnashing teeth.  First of all, I've been told that it’s impolite to beg. Second, my drooling problem is exaggerated when food is involved.  In fact, my drooling is such a problem that I have been taught the command “go someplace absorbent” (meaning to get off the hardwood floor and go sit on a rug).

Of course, I often ignore the "no begging" rule, but when I'm not blatantly ignoring it, I take full advantage of an obvious loophole which marries my love of food and my love of being comfortable.

You see, each evening I wait patiently for my taste of ice cream by laying on my spot on the living room couch, not one foot away from where Ma is sitting.  To all the world, I am just resting in my spot; curled up into a ball with my head down on the sheet used to keep all the fur, dirt, and drool off the couch.  In reality, however, I am staring intently at Ma’s bowl of ice cream, willing her to drop it, while drooling with gusto into my blanket.

Example Two:
Dig, Dig, Digging

Another big “no, no” in my life is digging.  Sure, I’m allowed to dig in the doggy pool or in a man-made snowdrift, but other than that, the action is seriously frowned upon.  But, like begging, I’ve never completely cut digging out of my life.

I “dig, dig, dig” under the forsythia.  

I “dig, dig, dig” under the cherry tree by the fence. 

I “dig, dig, dig” in the vegetable garden.  

I “dig, dig, dig,” in the flower garden.  

I even “dig, dig, dig” inside the house on the rug.  

But like I said, I’m technically not supposed to dig, so, when I feel like digging, but don’t feel like getting in trouble, I switch over to the loophole:  rolling in the grass.

I love rolling around in the grass.  First, I plow my head into the ground.  Then I slide along on my shoulder--propelled forward by my back legs--for a time.  Next, I drop my back end onto the ground with a thud and start rolling back and forth over and over again in the dirt, dust, and grass.  My recorded record for rolling has been thirteen back and forths, but for me, the record is actually determined by how muddy my nose gets and whether or not I end up with a grass stain on my head.

Me and My Work

But while I’m rolling back and forth, I'm also stretching my legs out, digging my claws into the grass and dirt, and raking my legs back and forth.  This action pulls up large amounts of grass and dirt (which usually gets thrown up into the air when I roll over) yet I cannot be reprimanded for digging because, technically, I’m not (the barren earth, displaced grass, and hole are merely casualties of my enthusiastic rolling).

So, my word of advice, garnered from years of experience is:  look for and take full advantage of the loopholes in life.

A Missing Pack Member

I am part of a pack. We're a weird looking pack; I mean, I'm devilishly handsome and furry and the rest of my pack are decidedly not on both counts. I walk on four legs while they teeter around on two.  And of course, there's the fact that we're completely different species. Still, a pack is a pack and we are meant to stick together and stick together we do, unless, of course, we don't.

You see, every once in a while, a member of my family disappears for a day or two. Sometimes he or she is on vacation and sometimes it's a business trip, but regardless of the reason for the temporary split, I always find the event traumatic because:

1. I never know when my family will be reunited
2. For each missing family member, my snack intake shrinks by a third
3. I’m never invited on the trip (which is both traumatic and incredibly rude).

Anyway, the most recent disappearance happened a couple of weeks ago and this time it was Sister who vanished.

Now, at first, as with most disappearances, I was blissfully unaware that Sister was planning on abandoning me. Sure, she left the house bright and early with her overnight bag in hand, but that usually meant that I was going out east and that she'd meet me there after work. But, when 5pm came and went without a trip out east, I started to become concerned. When she didn’t come home for dinner, I became suspicious. And when everyone else went to bed and she still wasn’t home, I fell into complete and utter despair.

That night, I was restless. I paced and paced and, when I eventually fell asleep from sheer exhaustion, I did so with my head resting under Sister’s chair. Pa theorized that I had fallen asleep looking for food that Sister had dropped.  He was wrong.  While snuffling around for food was an added bonus, the real reason why I camped out under Sister’s chair was that I knew that that would be the first place she would go once she got home. You see, her chair means that much to her (I can relate, I feel the same way about my spot on the couch).

The next morning, I was distressed to find that Sister was still missing.  During the afternoon, while Ma and Pa were at work, I briefly toyed with the idea of storming Sister's room and claiming her spot on the bed as my own (hey, if she's not going to be around to use it, someone else should), but I quickly felt bad about plotting to take advantage of the situation and fell back into a state of depression. 

I slept under Sister's chair again that night.

An Ithaca Waterfall

Around 5:30pm on the third day, Sister returned home and I was beside myself with excitement. My pack was back together and Sister had a lot of strange new smells on her that I needed to investigate (I found out that she had been in Ithaca, New York and, aside from going to a conference and meeting lots of people, she also went hiking).

That night I slept soundly on my pillow for the first time in two days.  All was right with the world (except for the part about not getting Sister's bed).