An Ode to Sleep

Napping on Sister's Bed

Sleeping is one of my all time favorite activities.  In fact, sleeping ranks right up there with causing trouble (which includes, but is not limited to, stealing, ripping, crushing, and shredding), eating, destroying all evidence of the trouble I've caused (usually through consumption), and chasing squirrels.

Ideally, all naps would take place on a bed or a couch (or at least a nice sunny spot on the upper floors of a house), but I've learned to adapt over the years and have developed a series of techniques that allow for ultimate comfort and, in some instances, function. 

Here are four of my all time favorite sleeping techniques.  Please feel free to use and adapt them to suit your own personal needs and situations.

The Steamroller Technique

The Steamroller Technique:
A favorite when I was a little puppy, this sleep style involves rolling on one's back and flattening out as though recently backed over by a steamroller.  A true professional displays expert form by allowing legs and ears to sprawl out in all directions.  This technique is ideal for taking advantage of a nice cool spot on the floor during a warm summer day.

The Support System Technique

The Support System Technique (AKA The Intruder Prevention Technique):
Ideal for dogs interested in multitasking, this technique requires the sleeper to use his/her body to either support a load bearing wall or prevent intruders from entering through a doorway (as I'm demonstrating in the picture to the left).  This technique also ensures that no one can slip out of the room without the sleeper being made aware.

The Prince & the Pea Technique

The Prince and the Pea Technique:
In a slight variation of the classic fairy tale, this technique requires the sleeper to take advantage of a newly purchased pillow and a family too preoccupied to discard the previous one.  This technique is not without fault, however.  Due to the height of two pillows stacked one on top of the other, toys have been known to routinely fall off the cliff and the sleeper runs the risk of having all his blood rush to his head.

The Mecki Induced Coma Technique

The Mecki Induced Coma Technique:
Come to think of it, this really isn't a technique but instead an example of a devilishly handsome dog being so thoroughly exhausted from playing with his bff Mecki that he literally collapses in the middle of playing with a toy.

The Puppy Files: A Tail's Tale

Welcome to the fourth installment of The Puppy Files; the series where I beguile you, my loyal readers, with stories from my life before I began this blog.

Growing up, I had a rather strained relationship with my tail.  You see, very early on, I noticed that it had stalker like tendencies.  Everywhere I went (and I mean everywhere...the park, the toy store, my crate, etc) it was there, trailing along behind me.  And if its stalker like tendencies weren't disturbing enough, I also had to deal with the fact that it seemed to have a mind of its own.  You see, whenever I was up to no good, my tail would start beating up against whatever I was standing next to and alert the family of my naughtiness.  See?  Not only was it constantly following me, but it was also tattling on me (or should that be TAIL-tling?)

Anyway aside from learning at an early age that my tail was no good, I also learned that my family didn't really seem share my concerns.  In fact, if they had to choose sides, I would guess that they would have chosen my tail.   Perhaps it was the aforementioned fact that it alerted them to my bad behavior, but in hindsight, I think it might have been that my tail did not bite (the other end of my body, as my loyal readers know, had a bit of a propensity for biting).  Honestly, I don't think I can blame them.  As I've said before, I was a nasty little puppy.

Whip-Like Tail

Starting to Grow In

Realizing that I had to deal with my tail problem on my own, I decided that the best and easiest course of action was to yank it clean off.  When I was really small and had a whip-like tail, this involved reaching across my body, grabbing hold of the tail itself and, while trying not to fall over (I was a bit roly-poly which resulted in balance issues), pulling with all my might.  When I got a little older and my tail hair started growing in, I would reach across my body, grab hold of the fur, and, while trying, once again, not to fall over (perhaps I'm just clumsy), pull out chunks of hair.  Then I'd spit the fur onto the floor before going in for another chunk.

My family was absolutely horrified by this behavior.  Whenever they saw me yanking on my tail they would rush over, pry my tail out of my mouth, and ask me what my tail ever did to deserve such treatment (I thought the answer was kind of obvious--I guess you need a tail to understand).  So what does a smart (and devilishly handsome) puppy do in such a situation?  He waits patiently until his family leaves the house before attempting to settle the score with his tail!  But even this plan wasn't fool proof.  You see, when my family wasn't around, I was free to tug on my tail all I wanted, but I was never able to keep them from figuring out what I had been up to while they were away.  The piles of long tail fur on the floor not to mention the unevenness of the fur still connected (then, of course, there was the slobber) always gave me away.

A Fine Example of a Tail

Over the years, my tail and I have reached a strained yet functioning relationship.  I leave it alone and it tries not to get stuck in closing doors or stepped on.  I've been told that my dad (my four legged dad, not my two legged dad) had a similar issue with his tail when he was a pup, but that he eventually outgrew it too.

I still don't like my tail, but he and I have figured out how to co-exist.

Just Beyond My Reach

Have you ever had one of those days?  You know, one of those days where nothing goes your way and you wonder why you even bothered to get up off your pillow?  Well, yesterday was that type of day for me.

It should have been a much better day than it ultimately was.  Sister was off, so she and I got to sleep in late (Sister and I enjoy having contests to see who can sleep in the longest--I'm winning).  Then she took me for a nice walk to the park and gave me a cookie when I obligingly agreed to come back inside the house.  And then, just when I thought my day couldn't get any better, Sister gave me my lunch time squeaker toy.

I love my lunch time squeaker toy.  It is a near perfect toy.  It has an obnoxious squeaker, a gummy texture, and is nearly indestructible.  The only thing keeping it from being 100% perfect is the fact that it does not taste like bacon.

Anyway, everything was going great when all of a sudden, this happened:

That's right, my squeaker toy rolled under the couch.

But it didn't end there!  Sister retrieved my toy for me, but it promptly rolled back under the couch again and again and again.  It was on the fifth retrieval that Sister finally had the bright idea of using couch pillows as bumpers to keep my toy within reach.  But even that didn't solve all my problems. You see, every time I got comfortable, this happened:

And you know what?  Sister was less than sympathetic this time about me not being able to reach my toy.  She told me that I should just...this is so hard to say...get up and get the toy myself.

Talk about a bad day!

Helper Dog

Introducing Daisy

Before I begin, allow me to introduce the newest member of the family: a hamster named Daisy. Daisy came to live with us after Meri the hamster passed away last Tuesday. Despite our differences (somehow, I always got the bum rap whenever she was around...she got to go to the nice warm library after Hurricane Sandy while I stayed in the freezing cold house and I received a brand new nickname—Brute—when I accidentally ate the pumpkin seeds Sister was going to hand feed her), I'm still going to miss the little rat.

And now, on to my story…

I’m a helper dog. I love to help Pa with plumbing projects (nothing beats sticking your head under a sink with your human while hoping that he forgot to turn off the water so that all of a sudden you both get squirted in the face) and any project that involves screw drivers are a dream come true (screw drivers, after all, are easy to pick up and scurry off with). I've also been known to help Ma and Sister organize papers by lying across them and acting as their very own non-jamming paper shredder.  Well, this weekend I out did myself on the helpful scale. I managed to help both Ma and Pa in a single twelve hour period.

Supervising Pa

Helping Pa:  Pa’s Saturday morning task was to put together the new fireplace screen he had bought and I immediately saw it as a project worthy of my special brand of help. I climbed on (and popped) the bubble wrap, and tried to run off with the little bag of nuts and bolts that came in the package (Pa shooed me off before I could succeed).  Coming to the realization that I wasn't going to be allowed to actively help, I decided to do the next best thing:  supervise.  I think I did a pretty good job (notice the tennis ball I'm holding in the picture...that's the sign of a good supervisor...the ability to multitask).

Helping Ma

Helping Ma:  Ma decided that she was going to sweep all the crunchy leaves off the deck and, well, what can I say...I felt that it was my duty as the family dog to lend her a paw.  But how?  There weren't any large sticks on the deck so I couldn't help by being a one-dog-wood-chopper and there weren't any large branches so I couldn't drag them out of Ma's way and into the yard.  I hate to admit it, but I almost gave up.  I was just about to turn around and see what Sister was up to, when a gentle breeze blew through my golden locks and gave me an idea.  Ma was surely going to have problem with the leaves blowing away, so I decided to help by acting as a paperweight.  Another job well done!

So, as you can see, I was a very busy dog Saturday afternoon and because I had been so busy, I did not feel at all bad about taking an extra long early evening nap.

Nap Time!