Imortalized in Art

The mom of my BFFs Mecki and Bastille is a talented artist.  I've shown some of her work before, a homemade birthday card or two, but recently, she out did herself.  For Christmas, she gave my Sister four beautiful works of art based on four of my most iconic, cute, silly, and pensive photos.  I mean, check out the baby picture!  She even managed to capture my abnormally long and glamorous eyelashes!  Thanks Karin, you're the best!

           

"Don't Look Foolish"

Aunt B just wanted to take a nice picture of me and my family.

 Her instructions were clear:  "Sit together and no one look foolish."

Was that too much to ask?

Apparently, for me, it was!

Being Obnoxious

I have to get something off my chest.  Stumpy the Squirrel is completely and totally out of control.  You remember Stumpy, right?  He's the annoying "squirrel" (I put this in quotes because I honestly don't know what Stumpy is...he looks like a squirrel except he is missing 90% of his tail and he hops around like a bunny) that my family has taken a shine to .  Well, while I've always found him rather annoying, I've come to realize that he's also very nervy.  Look what he did!

That's right, Stumpy has decided to use my windowsill as his own personal refrigerator for his half-eaten chunks of Italian bread!  Now, there are many things wrong with this.  First, there is the knowledge that Stumpy is setting paw, not only on my property, but on my house.  Second, he's lurking right outside my window (he's a Peeping Tom now too!).  Third, he's depositing his stash just out of my reach (hey, I like bread too!).

Stumpy Watching from Above

But I suppose, in some ways, and I hate to admit this, Stumpy and I are a lot alike.  You see, we both excel in passive aggressive techniques.  He leaves his table scraps just out of my reach and me, well...

It's no secret that I love to engage in a little thievery from time to time.  But to set the record straight, it's never really my fault.  I mean, did I tell you to leave your purse open?  Did I suggest that you leave your closet door open (giving me access to your shoe collection)?  Did I ask you to leave the dish towel within my reach?  Did I recommend that you leave the folded laundry on the bed?  Of course not!  But once it's done, I have no choice but to react.

So off I run with the pick pocketed key chain, purloined dishtowel, swiped shoe, or pilfered piece of laundry.  And it goes without saying that my humans are usually hot on my tail, determined to steal back my ill-gotten gains.

Of course, my dream is to keep the item, chew on it a little, rip off all its buttons, and tear all its seams.  But I know what is expected of me; mainly that I'm supposed to give up my appropriated goods without a fight.  However, just because I know what I should do, doesn't mean that I won't add my own little flair to the procedure. 

And my way of adding a little flair to the situation is to be obnoxious about it.  As soon as one of my humans corner me and reach for the ill-gotten gains in my mouth, I drop it, forcing him/her to pick the item up off the floor.  And oh boy am I good at this trick.  I can't tell you how many times I've done this and each time whoever is trying to claim my stolen goods complains bitterly about having to pick the item up off the floor when I could have just handed it to them when it was about two feet higher off the ground in my mouth.

Halloween 2018

Happy Halloween!

^^..^^

May every house you Trick or Treat at give you a King Size Milkbone rather than a Fun Size one!

Fall Dog Days 2018

Surveying My Estate

It's the most wonderful time of the year!  No, not Christmas (though that is a lot of fun with all the food, wrapping paper, and toys).  This last weekend was Dog Days at Old Westbury Gardens (AKA my estate) and while I wasn't able to hang out with my pals Mecki and Bastille (their mom is vacationing in France), I did have an absolutely wonderful time.

The day (Saturday) started as any other day that promised an outing would; basically, I was crazed.  As soon as I realized that I was going somewhere, I started running through the house, pacing back and forth, eager to get going.  I barked loudly when either Ma or Sister slowed us down by doing such pointless things as packing my traveling bag, checking the weather on TV, and putting on shoes (I don't bother with shoes, why should they?) and when my collar was placed around my neck and the side door opened, I bounded out toward the car.  I even huffed, drooled, and paced in the backseat of the car during the twenty-minute ride to the gardens!

Sister and Me

Ma, Sister, and I spent nearly an hour wandering through the gardens that morning.  I stopped to sniff random plants, I posed for pictures, I bunked noses with a couple of pups, and even showed off my prowess by jumping over the cement bench Sister wanted to pose with me on for a photo. I even stopped long enough to sniff the tree that Mecki and Bastille are routinely photographed in (and yes, I did thank my lucky stars that I'm too heavy to be picked up and put in that tree).

Liberty, Me, Baxter, and the Rest

Eventually, Ma, Sister, and I made our way to the great lawn out back behind the house where I was met with a fun surprise:  three Golden Retrievers (two under the age of one and the other eight years old), a big fluffy black dog, a German Shepherd, and their humans.  I was first greeted by the big fluffy black dog who was off leash and made a bee line straight for me.  He was obviously the welcoming committee.  Anyway, the black dog and I bunked noses then the three Golden Retrievers ran over to say hi.  The two young-ins (one was named Liberty) ran straight to Ma and Sister and began begging for pets and belly rubs.  The older Golden, Baxter, walked over to me to say hello.

The final part of the trip was perhaps the best.  I got to see my Old Westbury Gardens pal Emma Rose.  My readers might remember Emma Rose as the Golden Retriever “cousin” I first met all the way back in 2011.  Since then, Emma Rose and I have run into each other, always unscheduled, at every single Dog Days weekend.  My pal is eleven years old now and had had a serious health scare a couple of weeks ago, but I was happy to see that Emma Rose was feeling better and acting like her old self; calm, quiet, and reserved.  Emma Rose and I bunked noses and hit up each other’s humans for pets.  Then our humans came up with a spectacular idea.  We needed a picture together.

Emma Rose and Me

After saying goodbye to Emma Rose, Ma, Sister, and I made our way back to the car and headed home.  I was completely and totally exhausted, but it was so worth it!

A Lesson Learned

We all have our limitations.  Squirrels are stupid and will never learn to keep out of my yard, human kneecaps will never bend the opposite direction no matter how hard I slam my skull up against them, and I am not capable of barking from every imaginable position.

I discovered my limitation a few days ago when I was lying on the living room floor, belly up to the sky, enjoying a belly rub from Ma.  All of a sudden, my pure bliss was interrupted by the sound of a car door slamming.  Now, being the inquisitive pup that I am (who happens to take his job as Head of Security very seriously), I immediately decided that I was going to have to give this potential threat the “Rigby Treatment” (AKA bark hysterically at it).  Simultaneously, however, I also concluded that I really didn’t want to give up on my belly rub.

So, I decided to do both; I decided to bark while lying on my back.  I took a deep breath and let out what was going to be my most ferocious bark to date.

Unfortunately, it didn’t work out quite how I expected it.  Instead of my loud, manly bark, what issued from my lips was an airy “woof” followed by a barrage of gasps and coughs.  Choking on my own tongue and drool and fearful of losing my breakfast to one of the coughs, I began to try to right myself on my feet.  That too did not work out quite as I expected.  You see, it seems that as difficult as it is to bark while on one’s back, getting up from lying on one’s back while choking is even more difficult.

Eventually I prevailed and managed to stop choking (and, happily, did not lose my breakfast).  Fortunately, the slamming car door that started this unfortunate series of events did not prove to be the threat I initially thought it would be.  Unfortunately, however, I imagine it will be a long time before my family lets me live down the whole incident.

The War Continues

Pavers in my Digging Spot

A few months ago, I reported that Ma had become fed up with my dig, dig, digging in the backyard and decided to take actions against it by planting pavers in my favorite digging spots.  Well, Ma might not have realized it at the time, but she had declared war by trying to thwart my digging and it has only escalated since then.

The latest battle in this war began last week when I made my way to my favorite digging spot under the forsythia.  Completely unperturbed by the pavers, I positioned myself closer to the forsythia's stems than I normally do, and began digging.

Immediately, Ma came running, yelling at me to stop.  Being the good boy that I am, I decided to obey her and scurried out from under the forsythia bush...and made a bee line to the other forsythia bush in the yard.

Wasting no time, I began digging at the base of the second forsythia.  I was so engrossed in my task that I didn't notice that Ma, after witnessing my behavior, had turned and disappeared down the driveway without a word. 

Suddenly I smelled water and heard the sound of raindrops on the forsythia's leaves.  Never one to enjoy getting wet, I decided to leave my hole and head toward the house.  Out from under the forsythia bush I came, only to discover that the sky was clear and the rain had stopped.  I took a step forward and suddenly I felt jets of water brushing against my head.

Striped

Ma had turned the oscillating sprinkler on me and I had walked right through it leaving wet stripes across my fur.

So, well done Ma.  Well done.  But remember, you might have won this battle, but the war isn't over.