Can you guess whose birthday it is today?!
Mine!
Sunday, May 31, 2015
Wednesday, May 27, 2015
Outdoor Enemy Number One
Overall, I'm a very tolerant pup. I get along splendidly with most dogs and I'm fabulous with people (especially if they have food). Sure, I have a bit of a history with lizards, squirrels, and stupid little bunny rabbits with their fluffy little white tails, but I consider them interlopers; creatures who did not ask my permission to co-exist with me in my backyard--trespassers. But there is one animal that I've never gotten along with regardless of where our paths convene. My outdoor enemy number one is none other than the robin.
Now, allow me to clarify for a moment. I do not have a problem with birds. Sure, I've been known to chase a mourning dove or two out of my yard from time to time (trespassing), but, by and large, I pretty much ignore all other birds including sparrows, cardinals, orioles, and finches. But robins? I just can't stand them.
Why can't I stand them? Well, there are three reasons:
Reason One:
They don't act like other birds. When you cross paths with any other species of birds they take off and fly away (and I don't necessarily mean far away...just out of my way). When you cross paths with a robin, however, they just jump and skip a couple inches away from where they initially were standing. And when you match their movement by taking another step toward them, all they do is jump a few inches further away. So annoying!
Reason Two:
They have beady little eyes. After jumping and skipping away, they turn and look at you with their shiny button eyes as if to say "I'm not afraid of you!"
Reason Three:
They can't take a hint. I can't tell you the number of times I've chased an individual or a pack of robins out of my backyard only to have them return a minute later. And when you have to repeatedly chase them out of a large yard like the one I have out east, well, let me tell you, it is a thoroughly exhausting experience.
So, to summarize: Robins are obnoxious little jumping creatures with beady eyes just daring you to chase them (and chase them I do) again and again and again.
As a matter of fact, I've never been able to ignore robins. When I was a little puppy, I actually used to try to chase them when I was out walking with my family (much to the dismay of whoever was holding my leash--apparently human arms are not cut out for the sudden jerking motion of me lunging for a bouncy little bird). But for some reason, no one else in my family ever showed any sign of exhibiting the same level of hatred for robins as I did. Frankly, that made me hate them even more. Not only are they evil, but they also managed to trick my humans into believing that they were innocent little birds. What fiends!
Now, allow me to clarify for a moment. I do not have a problem with birds. Sure, I've been known to chase a mourning dove or two out of my yard from time to time (trespassing), but, by and large, I pretty much ignore all other birds including sparrows, cardinals, orioles, and finches. But robins? I just can't stand them.
Why can't I stand them? Well, there are three reasons:
Reason One:
They don't act like other birds. When you cross paths with any other species of birds they take off and fly away (and I don't necessarily mean far away...just out of my way). When you cross paths with a robin, however, they just jump and skip a couple inches away from where they initially were standing. And when you match their movement by taking another step toward them, all they do is jump a few inches further away. So annoying!
Reason Two:
They have beady little eyes. After jumping and skipping away, they turn and look at you with their shiny button eyes as if to say "I'm not afraid of you!"
Reason Three:
They can't take a hint. I can't tell you the number of times I've chased an individual or a pack of robins out of my backyard only to have them return a minute later. And when you have to repeatedly chase them out of a large yard like the one I have out east, well, let me tell you, it is a thoroughly exhausting experience.
So, to summarize: Robins are obnoxious little jumping creatures with beady eyes just daring you to chase them (and chase them I do) again and again and again.
As a matter of fact, I've never been able to ignore robins. When I was a little puppy, I actually used to try to chase them when I was out walking with my family (much to the dismay of whoever was holding my leash--apparently human arms are not cut out for the sudden jerking motion of me lunging for a bouncy little bird). But for some reason, no one else in my family ever showed any sign of exhibiting the same level of hatred for robins as I did. Frankly, that made me hate them even more. Not only are they evil, but they also managed to trick my humans into believing that they were innocent little birds. What fiends!
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
Payback
We've had this argument a thousand times over. When we're riding in the back seat of the car, Sister insists that she is entitled to a full one third of the seat. I, on the other paw, believe that I am entitled to way more of it (like all of it). Now, it is painfully obvious that I am one hundred percent correct in this argument, but that doesn't stop Sister from whining and carrying on whenever we ride in the car together. Being the good boy that I am, I generally put up with all the whimpering and shoving on Sister's part (she particularly takes offense to me digging my elbow into her leg), but every once in a while I decide to get even and I discovered recently that Pa is more than willing to help my cause.
It happened last weekend: The four of us (Pa, Ma, Sister, and I) were driving out east and Sister and I were sharing the backseat. Now, Sister was in a particularly bad mood that evening. She said it was because she was suffering from feelings of motion sickness and that all the pushing and shoving she was doing to get me back onto my side of the car was exacerbating it. I, on the other paw, was my usual chipper self.
After miles and miles of putting up with Sister's elbowing, I suddenly came up with a most brilliant idea. I knew right away that this plan I was hatching wouldn't stop Sister's whining, but it would, however, annoy her to no end (which, in many instances, is way more satisfying). Nonchalantly, as though merely shifting in my seat, I got up, pivoted slightly in place, and put my foot firmly down on the release button of Sister's seat belt. As soon as I heard the click of the clasp, I quickly sat down as the seat belt retracted back into the side wall of the car. Sister protested with an indignant "Hey" and tattled to Ma and Pa about what I had just done, all while struggling to re-buckle herself in (I had strategically planted myself firmly on top of the buckle making the process next to impossible). And that's when Pa stepped in. Upon hearing Sister's complaint, Pa unlocked the car's doors with a click. I laughed silently to myself as Sister once again let out a disgruntled "Hey!"
Now, I had had so much fun unbuckling Sister's seat belt and watching her reaction that about ten minutes later I once again firmly planted my foot on the release button of her seat belt buckle. Just as before, the seat belt released with a click and retracted back into the wall. Then Sister cried out, Pa unlocked the car's door with a click, and Sister cried out again. And what did I do while all of this was happening? You guessed it, I laughed silently to myself.
This happened two more times before we reached our destination and let me tell you, it never got old.
It happened last weekend: The four of us (Pa, Ma, Sister, and I) were driving out east and Sister and I were sharing the backseat. Now, Sister was in a particularly bad mood that evening. She said it was because she was suffering from feelings of motion sickness and that all the pushing and shoving she was doing to get me back onto my side of the car was exacerbating it. I, on the other paw, was my usual chipper self.
After miles and miles of putting up with Sister's elbowing, I suddenly came up with a most brilliant idea. I knew right away that this plan I was hatching wouldn't stop Sister's whining, but it would, however, annoy her to no end (which, in many instances, is way more satisfying). Nonchalantly, as though merely shifting in my seat, I got up, pivoted slightly in place, and put my foot firmly down on the release button of Sister's seat belt. As soon as I heard the click of the clasp, I quickly sat down as the seat belt retracted back into the side wall of the car. Sister protested with an indignant "Hey" and tattled to Ma and Pa about what I had just done, all while struggling to re-buckle herself in (I had strategically planted myself firmly on top of the buckle making the process next to impossible). And that's when Pa stepped in. Upon hearing Sister's complaint, Pa unlocked the car's doors with a click. I laughed silently to myself as Sister once again let out a disgruntled "Hey!"
Now, I had had so much fun unbuckling Sister's seat belt and watching her reaction that about ten minutes later I once again firmly planted my foot on the release button of her seat belt buckle. Just as before, the seat belt released with a click and retracted back into the wall. Then Sister cried out, Pa unlocked the car's door with a click, and Sister cried out again. And what did I do while all of this was happening? You guessed it, I laughed silently to myself.
This happened two more times before we reached our destination and let me tell you, it never got old.
Friday, May 8, 2015
Perks of Being Sick
No one likes being sick--humans, dogs, and, I imagine, squirrels though I've never stopped chasing them long enough to ask. But as miserable as people and animals feel when they're sick (believe me, nothing makes me more miserable than when I have an upset tummy), I have discovered that there are some definite benefits of sickness, provided you are not the one feeling ill. Allow me to explain.
Over the last three weeks, my entire family has come down with a nasty long-lasting cold introduced to the household by Sister. As a result, all three have, at some point, taken a day or two off from work to recover. And that's where the silver lining lies--for me at least. You see, when...
....Sister stayed home we spent the entire day lying in bed watching TV.
...Ma stayed home we spent the entire day lying on the couch watching TV.
...Pa stayed home we spent the entire day lying in bed sleeping.
Yep, that's right, I spent most of each day lounging on a nice, soft piece of furniture--occasionally rolling over to collect the odd belly rub (I know what you're thinking...even Pa, the last holdout of the "Dogs Aren't Allowed on the Furniture" constituency allowed the rules to go lax the day he stayed home sick). And let me tell you, they were the best days ever! Sure, I really could have lived without being called a bed hog by Pa and a couch hog by Ma (they weren't themselves so I'll let those hurtful statements pass this time) and I really would have preferred not to be continuously woken up by all the hacking and coughing, but the way I see it, any day I get to curl up on a bed or a couch with a member of my family is okay by me.
Over the last three weeks, my entire family has come down with a nasty long-lasting cold introduced to the household by Sister. As a result, all three have, at some point, taken a day or two off from work to recover. And that's where the silver lining lies--for me at least. You see, when...
....Sister stayed home we spent the entire day lying in bed watching TV.
...Ma stayed home we spent the entire day lying on the couch watching TV.
...Pa stayed home we spent the entire day lying in bed sleeping.
Yep, that's right, I spent most of each day lounging on a nice, soft piece of furniture--occasionally rolling over to collect the odd belly rub (I know what you're thinking...even Pa, the last holdout of the "Dogs Aren't Allowed on the Furniture" constituency allowed the rules to go lax the day he stayed home sick). And let me tell you, they were the best days ever! Sure, I really could have lived without being called a bed hog by Pa and a couch hog by Ma (they weren't themselves so I'll let those hurtful statements pass this time) and I really would have preferred not to be continuously woken up by all the hacking and coughing, but the way I see it, any day I get to curl up on a bed or a couch with a member of my family is okay by me.
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