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.

My Type of Snow

I'm a cold weather pup.  I hate the sweltering hot days of August and I love the cold crisp days of January.  And if there's anything better than cool January days, it's cool January days with snow.

In my younger days, I took full advantage of blizzards: 

 

sprinting through snowbanks,

 

 

 perching atop mountains,

 

sticking my snout in holes,

and gutting snowmen.

 

 

Now-a-days?  I prefer to leave the blizzards to the young pups.  All I want are a couple of inches of snow; just enough to make dog angels in.  

 

 

Vincent van Rigby

My loyal readers know that I am a pup with many talents.  I maintain this blog, I’m Head of Security, I shred large things into smaller things, and I can hear (and respond) to a car door slamming three blocks away.  My loyal readers also know of my love for Bob Ross.  Well, I’m happy to report that I have added a new talent to my repertoire and it was inspired by Bob, himself. 

I am now an artist! 

Before I continue, allow me to take a step back. 

Sister spends a lot of time watching videos of cute dogs doing adorable things.  Normally, I am quite offended by this behavior as everyone knows that I’m the cutest and most adorable dog and that she should be spending her time doing more productive things like jotting down my inner most thoughts for you, my readers.  Anyway, every once in a while, she does come upon an interesting video with an interesting idea and her most recent discovery was one of those instances.  Even still, I will admit that I was a bit hesitant as I watched Sister bring all her art supplies down into the living room. 

With a glint in her eye, Sister set up all her acrylic paint bottles in a row on the living room floor and called me over.  Obligingly, I slipped and slided my way over to her (I’ve got an uncanny ability to find and snooze on the single one-foot by one-foot square space on the floor not covered by an area rug which therefore results in getting up with all four feet facing in the same direction something of a challenge) and observed the bottles.  There were colors everywhere: dark grey, medium grey, light grey and everything in between!  Sister encouraged me to come over and pick out my favorites.  Carefully I sniffed the bottles and zeroed in on one particularly pretty grey.  I picked it up in mouth and took a step in the direction of running off with it.  Sister tackled me and wrenched the bottle from my mouth with a “good boy! Now pick another one!”  I sniffed some more and found another grey to my liking.  I picked it up, Sister tackled me, and, again, pulled the bottle out of my mouth.  “Okay, keep going,” she said.  Again and again, I picked until I got bored with the remaining greys and started to walk away.  Sister grabbed my collar and told me that I had picked out four colors: black, forest green, teal, and brown.  I looked up at her kindly thinking “those are some pretty weird names for the color grey.” 

Sister scooped up all the bottles of paint then scurried away with the four I had chosen.  I, on the other hand, decided to take a nap. 

A few minutes later, I was awoken by the nutty smell of peanut butter wafting in from the dining room.  With great interest and a rumbling belly, I make my way into the room just in time for Sister to present me with a strangely shaped and yummy smelling item. 

Turns out, while I was asleep, Sister squirted a canvas with the four paints I had chosen and covered it with plastic wrap.  Next, she coated the plastic wrap with a layer of peanut butter.  My job was to lap up the peanut butter and, in the process, smear the paint around the canvas.  She had me at “lap up the peanut butter.”

So, I did my artistic duty and licked away at the nutty goodness.  By the time it was gone, I had created the following masterpiece. 

 

This one, Bob, is dedicated to you.

Christmas Roundup 2023

It’s been nearly a week since Christmas and all I can say is this: “Christmas is a young pup’s game.”

I am exhausted.  Totally and completely exhausted.  I’m so worn out from Christmas festivities (late night snacks and movies on Christmas Eve and presents, company, and limited naps on Christmas Day) that I’ve been walking around like a zombie ever since.  I’m so tired the dark circles under my eyes have dark circles.  I’m so pooped that I completely lost track of what was going on and found myself gnawing on Puddle’s head thinking it was a bone.

Puddles and me.

Puddle's no worse for wear.

But boy oh boy did I have fun on Christmas!  Here’s a quick rundown of some of the festivities:

I shredded wrapping paper.

I annihilated cardboard.

I played, gnawed on, and rested my eyes with all the toys Santa, my family, and Gina (and her pups Baci and Rocky) gave me and sampled all the cookies and treats I got from Santa and Karin (and her pups Mecki and Bastille).

So, like I said, Christmas was great.  My only complaint was that no one “accidentally” dropped a meatball for me at dinner time.