A Farewell to Mecki

To my bff Mecki-

Words will never ever be able to express how much I’ll miss you. 

I’ll miss our walks through the estate, both of us competing to be slightly ahead of the other on the path.

I’ll fondly remember our sleepover where we kept stealing each other’s antlers (even though neither of us really wanted to chew on them), sneaking in to eat your breakfast (sorry…you snooze you lose), blowing out Sister’s eardrums with our barking and whining, and rough-housing in the backyard (even though it resulted in us both getting a bath).

I’ll miss receiving mini-Meck toys smelling of you (for that extra touch of authenticity). 

I’ll think frequently of that time I swatted you with my paw when you were climbing all over me and laughing when your Mom stuck you in a hollowed-out tree trunk for a picture. 

And Sister?  She’ll always remember your over socialized nature, the fact that you ran on belly rubs, that your tail never ever stopped wagging, and all those attack kisses (you really could get some air with those short little back legs). 

There’s so many memories and so many stories and I thank you for all of them (not to mention it was your blog which kick started this one). 

You were the best friend a pup could ever have and you will be so missed. 

Your bff Rigby

 

Game Time!

That Sucks!
The game of getting the toy or bone you want.

Objective:

For the dog get his pick of any toy or bone in the house and for the human(s) to watch television in peace.

Components:

• One lovable dog
• At least one haggard human
• Multiple high-quality toys and bones in varying forms (i.e., plush, squeaky, tug, balls, antlers, marrow, Nylabones, etc.)
• A storage area (closet or counter) large enough to house said toys and bones
• A chorus of spectators (optional)
  

Setup:

1. Human(s) settle down for a quiet evening of watching television.
2. Dog decides that he is bored, that his existing toys and bones are all dull, and that the human(s) must be hiding far more interesting toys and bones elsewhere in the house.
   

Playing the Game:  

1. Dog begins barking, carrying-on, and generally showing his displeasure for being bored and being denied immediate access to all the toys and bones in the house.
2. Human(s) plead with dog to quiet down (shouting and noise making (i.e., hand clapping and whistling) is acceptable).
3. Dog ignores human(s). If possible, dog increases his own noise and carrying-on levels.
4. After much pleading, human(s) gives in and walks to storage area housing the supply of toys and bones.
5. Human(s) produces a toy or bone from the storage area and presents it to dog.
6. Dog sniffs offered toy/bone briefly then snubs it (chorus shouts “That Sucks”).
7. Human(s) returns toy or bone to storage area.
8. Human(s) produce another toy or bone from storage area and presents it to dog.
9. Repeat steps 6-8 until end of game.
   

Winning the Game:

The game ends when the human(s) presents something to dog that he likes and runs off with it. If no acceptable toy or bone is available, human(s) may try offering a PB&K.

A Belated Christmas Roundup

For those not living in the Long Island area, the temperature outside pretty much plummeted over the last few weeks.  Heck, we even had a major blizzard complete with two-foot-tall snow drifts (for all those wondering, I am not a fan of two foot tall snow drifts).  But what's more telling when it comes to how cold it’s been is the following photo.

As you can see, I am laying on the couch wearing my stylish green sweater.  I had just returned from a morning walk with Pa and it was so cold outside that I downright refused to let anyone take my sweater off of me once I came in.  And let me tell you, I was nice and roasty-toasty comfy-cozy in my sweater all curled up on the couch.  That is, I was until Sister decided to use me as a muff to warm her ice-cold hands.

But I'm not here to harp endlessly about my stylish green sweater or how cold Sister's hands are (if she weren't standing upright at the time I would have sworn that she had died).  No, I'm here to give my yearly Christmas roundup (even if it's been a couple weeks since the actual day).

Christmas was kind of weird this year.  Santa arrived on time, but the usual Christmas festivities were postponed twice due to illness (not mine).  I was okay with it though.  Eventually, the family got together on New Year’s Day and celebrated with the usual array of food, laughter, belly rubs, and presents and, as bad as it sounds, I love it when my family stays home sick because it means that we get to spend the entire day snoozing in bed or on the couch.  What a wonderful life it is!

Toys from Santa

A toy from Dixie

Anyway, like I said, Santa arrived on time and I was obviously such a good boy this year that he told a number of my friends.  From Santa I got a stylish new collar, a new Bill (“Oh nooooo!”) toy, a giant tennis ball, and a plush football.  From Ma and Pa I got a new antler.  From Sister I got a giant plush worm toy (as Sister explained “all toys I buy him ultimately turn into a worm once he rips off all the limbs...might as well start with one”).  Aunt B got me a crunchy gummy log.  Dixie and her family got me a couple of Mini Meckis and a Lamb Chop toy.  Dianne got me a giant Christmas cookie.  What a haul, right?

So merry Christmas, happy New Year, and thank you to all my friends and family.  And remember, don’t let anyone take away your cozy green sweater.

Atop a snowdrift

Merry Christmas!

According to the song (which is occasionally sung at ear piercing levels in my house) and warnings issued by my family, Santa Claus is not only watching constantly, but he's also labeling handsome pups such as me as either naughty or nice.  Nice pups get loads of toys to rip the stuffing out of and bones to chew on (the obvious goal).  Bad pups receive a lump of coal in their stockings (which, frankly, doesn't sound all that bad to me).

Now, it is well known that I have a bit of track record of being mischievous.  But mischievousness, in my eyes, is not necessarily synonymous with naughtiness.  I'd be lying, however, if I said I wasn't, going into Christmas, concerned that perhaps my fun loving antics might be misconstrued as naughtiness by the big man wearing red.

Well, it turns out my concern was unjustified.  Despite all my mischievousness this year, I apparently ended up on every one's extremely good list because I really cleaned up this December 25th.  Between Santa, Ma, Pa, Sister, Aunt B, Faye (Tink & ZeeZee), Karin (Mecki & Bastille), and Jim (Pa's friend from work who is the human dad to Dixie whom I've heard stories about but have yet to meet in person), I got:

Octopus, Reindeer, & Raccoon

• a bag of treats (yet to be opened)
• a new antler (chewed on)
• an orange squeaky ball (plucked, ripped, and thrown away)
• a giant octopus (awaiting surgery for a ripped tentacle)
• a football (still whole...great for greeting people with)
• a plush raccoon (ripped, gutted, and awaiting surgery)
• a flat plush squeaker dog (waiting to be chewed on)
• a Christmas Mini-Mecki (also waiting to be chewed on)
• a giant plush reindeer with tennis ball feet (tennis balls ripped off body and partial lobotomy?--check!).  

Christmas Mini-Meck

But despite all the toys and all the tasty food I grubbed (the less said the better), this Christmas wasn't all good.

In the wee hours of Christmas morning (while Santa was making his rounds), I was felled by an unhappy belly.  Ever helpful, Ma heard my pitiful cries at the door and got up to let me out while the rest of the household slept.  Once I was feeling better, Ma let me back in the house but, in the process, accidentally slammed the side door.  Ma and I both thought that the sound would have woken up Pa, but we were both pleasantly surprised to discover that he had slept right through the noise.

Still emotionally troubled by my earlier experience (I hate feeling sick), I grabbed my new football toy that Ma had given me earlier in the evening and curled up on my pillow.  Sadly, I gave it a squeeze, but, because it was squeaker-less, it didn't make a sound.

So, in review, Pa slept through me crying to go out, Ma getting up, Ma accidentally slamming the side door, and Ma and I wandering back into the bedroom.  I then squeaked a squeaker-less toy.  To quote Charles Dickens (from a story that is very appropriate given the time of year) "this must be distinctly understood, or nothing wonderful can come of the story I am going to relate."

Like a shot, Pa jumped up, turned to me, and told me that it was too late to play with my toys and that I should go to sleep.  He took my football from me, scratched my head, and then fell back asleep.  With a sign, I too went to bed.

Later in the morning, after all the presents were open (and some of the paper shredded), Ma related this story to both Sister and Pa (Pa was unaware of what happened before I squeaked my squeaker-less toy) and everyone had a good laugh.  More importantly, however, I got my football back.

Reflecting on My Fourth Year

On the eve of my 5th birthday, I thought I'd take a minute, as is now tradition, to reflect on a few life lessons I've learned this year.

1. Sleepovers Are Awesome!:  Not only did I have my very first sleepover last spring, but I also got to participate in three additional ones.  First that little stray dog that Sister took in stayed over, then my pal Ralphie spent the night, then my bff Mecki stayed the weekend, then my man Ralphie spent another night!  And, despite sometimes having to give up the use of my pillow to my house guest (as any good host would do), I had a fun and spectacular time with each!  Who knows what this next year will bring.
2. Hide Your Antlers Well:  Be warned:  the simple act of a host finishing the picked over and abandoned remains of a house guest's breakfast apparently warrants said house guest to round up the host's collection of abandoned antlers and chew on them. 
3. Pizzas Don't Come From the Store:  This was quite the eye opener for me.  For most of my life I was under the mistaken impression that pizzas simply arrived at the front door, ready-made, and encased in a cardboard box.  Boy, was I wrong!  Who would have thought that a slice of pizza could grow on a seemingly ordinary evergreen tree?  I wonder if I can expect a new crop next year.
4. Don't Chip the Paint:  The luster of a black nose is not solid through and through.  It is merely a veneer covering a bright pink center.

The Sleepover

Dead to the World

I'm exhausted.  Totally and completely exhausted.  Why am I exhausted you ask?  Well, I just lived through one of the most action packed fun filled weekends of my life:  my bff Mecki came to visit me on Saturday night and didn't leave until Monday afternoon.  We had a sleepover!

I've never had a sleepover at my house before.  Sure, Ralphie stayed overnight a couple of months ago, but I was out east with Ma and Pa so technically, Sister and Ralphie had the sleepover, not me.

So what did I think about my very first sleepover?  It was fun.  It was exciting.  It was...loud.  Here's some of the stuff that happened:

• I "accidentally" sat on Mecki's head:  I had an itch that I needed to sit down and scratch--I had no idea he was behind me...really!

  

  Chewing on Mecki's Antler
• I stole Mecki's squeaker toy:  You know, the one I got him for his birthday.  In my defense, he left it out (Ma ended up giving Mecki my squeaker toy to play with, but the joke was on him because I had already broken the squeaker on my toy and his toy was in pristine condition).
• I chewed on Mecki's antler:  I don't even like antlers anymore!
• I ate Mecki's breakfast leftovers:   I honestly thought he was finished.  He should have asked for a doggy bag.

  

  Empty Bowl

• I threatened Mecki with a shoe:  Mecki is too little and too long to hop up the side steps so, when I came in the house, I scurried past him, grabbed one of Pa's sneakers, and dangled it precariously over his head while he waited for Sister to give him a boost up.  Yeah, I got yelled at, but, well, you know...
• Mecki got a mini bath:  The yard on Monday was super wet so, after we finished rough-housing, Mecki's legs and belly were completely caked in mud.  When we came in, Sister scooped him up and put him in the bathtub where she splashed water on him (and boy did he hate it).  I was pretty muddy too, but I'm too heavy for Sister to pick up, so I just had my paws wiped with a damp paper towel.

  

  Antler Thief

• Mecki stole both of my antlers:  He collected them one by one, stashed them under the dining room table, and chewed on each.
• Mecki went horseback riding:  Mecki climbed up on my back while I was getting up and rode around like I was his own private pony.
  
• Mecki practiced sleep deprivation techniques:  Every time I collapsed on the floor exhausted, Mecki jumped up and started barking and showing off his best play stance.  Unable to resist the challenge, I got up and engaged Mecki in a round of rough housing.

  

  A Stolen Pillow

• Mecki stole my pillow:  Not only did Mecki steal my antlers, but he decided, on Sunday night, to chew on one while sitting on my pillow.
• Pack walk:  Ma and Sister took Mecki and me on a pack walk through the neighborhood Sunday afternoon.  Mecki's short legs kept us from having to take the extended walk that Ma usually drags me on.
• In Your Face:  Mecki and I developed our very own game called "In Your Face."  The game consisted of us sitting face to face while chewing on each other's stolen antler.

  

  In Your Face

• Rough housing:  Mecki and I are masters of rough housing.  Our specialties were chasing each other and head butting.  Sometimes, Mecki cheated and grabbed hold of my ear in his mouth and pulled.
• Bark-fest:  Mecki and I spent a fair portion of Sunday morning barking at the top of our lungs because Sister had separated us (we were playing too rough in the living room) and wasn't able clone herself so that both of us got her undivided attention (plus it was fun to make lots of noise).

So, to summarize, I had a ton of fun and would do it again in a heart beat...just so long as I get a couple more days to recover (have I mentioned that I'm really tired?).