Preparing for Tomorrow

It's that time of year again!  This weekend is Dog Days at Old Westbury Gardens!

But as much as I love Dog Days Weekend and look forward to it twice a year, I have to admit that I do have some reservations about this upcoming one.  You see, I usually spend at least one day of the weekend walking around the estate with my bff Mecki.  This has always worked out well in the past:  we run around (or at least as far as our leashes allow), his Mom takes pictures of him sitting in a tree (I laugh), we mooch food off the humans (Mecki's Mom always has treats in her pockets), we argue over who is going to lead the pack while we walk, and I give him an occasional paw to the head (which doesn't seem to faze him at all).  This year, however, is going to be different.  This year Mecki's little brother Bastille will be joining us for his very first Dog Days and, truth be told, I'm a little bit concerned about meeting him for the very first time.

Now, my loyal readers (who know me as the adventurous, overly friendly, handsome, and intelligent pup that I am) might question why I'm so perturbed about meeting Bastille.  After all, I've met tons of dogs in my lifetime and, with the exception of that Hell Hound I met a couple of years ago at Belmont Lake State Park, I've gotten along splendidly with each and every one.  So why am I concerned about Bastille?

Is it Bastille or a Piranha?

Have you read Mecki's blog lately?!

How would you feel if you were told that you'd be meeting a pup who's referred to as a "vampire piranha" and whose own Mom graffiti-ed a picture of a piranha to resemble him?

Yeah, that's what I thought.

Two Close Calls

It has been a snowy couple of days. As my loyal readers already know, I love playing in the snow. I love digging holes in the mountains that Ma and Pa build for me when they’re shoveling the walk; I love running up and down the driveway to discover just how far I can skid when I try to stop; and I love plowing through all the snowdrifts in the backyard at top speed like a crazy dog. In fact, I love the snow so much that I don’t even mind when Sister catches me being particularly silly. Take this picture, for instance…

Sister says that I look like a little old man with a fluffy white beard. Normally, I would take offense at this statement. I would question why she chose the picture she did rather than, say, this one…

…you know, one that makes me look majestic and even more handsome than I already am. But not when it snows. Nope, I have so much fun playing in the snow that I end up not really caring about looking foolish.

Anyway, that’s not why I’m posting today. Today I’m posting about two recent events that nearly ended in disaster.

Close Call Number 1:

Last Friday, the people Sister works with threw her a surprise birthday party. As a result, Sister came home with lots of nice smelling food (yay!) and a couple of menacing helium and latex balloons (boo!). I was a brave dog, and investigated the floating intruders once Sister tied them securely to the back of a chair, but, overall, I tried to avoid them as best as I could. Well, on Sunday, I sauntered into the kitchen only to discover that Sister had cut the latex balloons loose because they were weighing down the helium ones. To say I was not momentarily startled would be a lie (discovering giant globes rolling around your kitchen separating you from your food bowl can be quite off-putting), but I decided to be brave and ventured into the room to face, head on, the green and yellow balloons. I walked up to the first balloon, gave it a bunk with my nose, and watched as it rolled away from me. Then I walked over to the second balloon and gave it a sniff. Deciding that the balloon was not dangerous, I leaned over, opened my mouth, and…

“Rigby, no!” Sister screamed before I could sink my teeth into the giant green ball.

Close Call Number 2:

Can We Go Now?  How 'Bout Now?

Later in the day, Sister, racked with guilt that I had had three consecutive boring weekends, convinced Pa that he should take us to Belmont Lake State Park for an action packed walk. Ma bailed because she said it was too cold, but after a few agonizing minutes of waiting for Pa and Sister to put on six or seven layers of clothing, Pa, Sister, and I jumped into the car and headed to the park.

I had a ton of fun at the park. I sniffed lots of trees, sloshed around in a couple of mud puddles, and watched the ducks swim by on the pond. Everything was going swell when all of a sudden I saw them: two giant white swans wading through the water. I pulled toward the pond, but Pa pulled me back.

“Those birds are bigger than you are,” he warned, “they’ll beat you up!” Then he pointed toward a couple of swan boats docked around a bend in the pond. “Those are more your speed.”

I was not amused.

The Nose Knows

Check out that nose!

I have a really good sniffer.  I know, some people might argue otherwise.  Some people might question my smelling ability based on the fact that I have stuck my snout in overtly stinky places (garbage cans, sneakers, disgusting things found at the local park) and have not only lived to tell about it, but didn't even flinch while doing so.  These people would be wrong.  The fact remains that I have a very impressive sense of smell and a snout so powerful that it can double as a GPS.

As my loyal readers already know, I spend extended car rides (defined as any distance further than the local deli Pa takes me to on the weekends) sleeping.  My system is always the same:  first, I lean in real close to Sister making sure to not only invade her personal space but also pin her arm against the back of the seat, second, I collapse onto her lap (all the while digging my elbows into her thigh), and finally, with a mighty sigh I close my eyes and snooze until a bump in the road or the sound of the car's directional wakes me up (at which point I begin the process again).  What can I say?  It's a simple system that ensures that I am well rested and ready to go when we finally reach our destination.  Anyway, that's how I spend a majority of every car ride...that is, until we're about five minutes away from our final destination.

It doesn't matter if we're driving to the house out east, the "Estate" (aka Old Westbury Gardens), Belmont Lake State Park, Sands Point, or even back to our house, it is always the same.  All of a sudden I awake from my nap with my nose a-twitching.  The air is somehow different; I can smell it.  It smells familiar, perhaps even a bit exciting, and I find that I just can't help myself.  I can't lay still; I need to stand up and wag my tail (which, in the small confines of the back seat, annoys Sister to no end).  The rule that I must remain seated while the car is moving suddenly flies out the window despite Sister's "sit" command, and all of a sudden I'm standing upright, pacing, and, occasionally, sticking my cold wet nose in Pa's ear trying to persuade him to hit the gas so we get to where we're going a little bit faster.

A Trip to the Park

On Tuesday, my family decided that I needed something to do.  You see, according to them, I've spent far too much time lately looking--and finding--trouble to get into.  I've especially been fond of shredding papers, most recently the instruction booklet for the family's new washing machine and a roll of paper towels.  Anyway, because I've been so troublesome, my family decided to take me for a walk at Belmont Lake State Park.  I like it there a lot; there are always lots of smells to sniff and geese to chase (though I'm not allowed in the water which is really disappointing).

As soon as we got to the park I made a break from the car to the path so fast that I gave my Sister leash burns on both of her hands.  Yeah, I know that I really shouldn't have bolted for the trees like I did, but I was really excited and wanted to start sniffing all the great outdoor smells as soon as I could.  Sister was a bit annoyed, but she admitted that it was all her fault and that she should have expected and been prepared for my excitement level.  Still, she warned me not to bolt like that ever again.

We started down the path.  After walking for a little while we came across a man and his dog.  The man asked if I was friendly and I scoffed to myself.  Of course I'm friendly!  Anyway, his dog (a ten year old yellow lab) came over to me and we started to jump and guffaw around.  It is always fun to play with big dogs.  Don't get me wrong, I like playing with little dogs like my best friend Mecki, but you can't really stand on your back legs and box with a dog that only comes up to your knees.  As we played, I suddenly became aware that I was at a definite disadvantage.   You see, the yellow lab could jump and run and zig and zag without restraint.  I, on the other hand, kept getting tangled up with my humans.  It was then I realized that the other dog was off leash!  Imagine the fun we could have had if we were both off leash.  I'm going to have to talk to my family about that.

After a little while, the yellow lab and his Pa and my family and I went our separate ways.  Then, about a mile down the path, I noticed a little dachshund coming my way.  "It's Mecki!" I thought and wagged my tail excitedly.  As we got closer, however, I realized that this dog, while long like my best friend, wasn't quite as furry.  I was really disappointed. 

It was later, however, that the walk turned bad.  We came around a bend where a medium size dog and his owner were standing.  I went over to bunk noses with him and do you know what he did?  The dog snarled and snapped at me!  Now I don't associate with dogs that are so rude that they growl and bite.  In fact, two years ago when I was playing in a dog park I actually walked away from a group of dogs that were play growling and found a nice pit bull who just wanted to run around and had no problem with me drooling all over his back.  Anyway, I was really scared especially when the man brought his dog back to me in hopes that we could become friends.  Luckily, Pa stepped between me and the other dog and helped Sister pull me to safety while telling the nasty man with his hell-hound to leave me alone.

Despite my encounter with the hound from hell, I had a lot of fun on my walk.  In fact, I was so tired from the trip that I slept the entire way home and felt no need to shred anything...at least for a few hours.