Rush job - big dope heading for the Q

Okay, I don't have much time but I want to give you some more eye candy. I may be the cutest dog ever and I know you can't get enough of me. I may even throw a few pics of Reagan into the mix. You'll just have to scroll down and see for yourself.

Here's the promised St. Francis pic. Am I getting bigger?

Cat-like behavior. I'm a little embarrassed about this one.

Reagan seems to like me okay here.

Reagan just showing me who's boss. (I let her do this, it makes her feel better.)

Seconds later, she rolled right over me.

Here I am with Seestah! Putting a little yecky lick on her.

I own this couch! (Well, not yet, but I will.)

That's all I have time for now. Sorry about the lack of artwork. I just wanted to throw these up here so you could all get a little more of me.

Nice Post, Bronwyn.

Well, I just finished reading Bronwyn's latest, and I must say that it doesn't surprise me that she only posted pictures of herself.

So, for all of you out there who love Reagan more than Bronwyn (and who doesn't?), here are some pictures of me from Sunday that Bronwyn somehow failed to post:

this is my "Yeah, that's right." look.

And, to take the high road, here are some pictures of me and Bronwyn together. (King's English, baby.) Note that Bronwyn cropped herself out of the picture in which she is looking up at me. Nice. She follows me everywhere and chases me all over the place. But when it comes to giving me a little love, it's snip, snip, get me out of the photo. Don't you think it's a better photo with me in it? Of course, it is.

Just finished watching the Cavs dismantle the Hornets. Used to be Charlotte, now New Orleans. I don't think the Hornets are going to duplicate the effort made by their sister team, the Aints. Paul isn't looking too good yet and they are well out of the playoff picture.

More importantly, Z is back. Check out his interview with Fred McLeod at the Cavs page. LeBron was special, as usual. But the play of the night didn't even result in a basket. The Hornets made a poor backpass (soccer terminology, sorry) and it went past the guard (can't remember which at this point) into the backcourt. The Brazilian dreamboat, in a full out sprint, outraced the nearest Hornet to the ball, dove to the ground, got his hands on the ball and called a timeout. It was almost impossible and I had to watch it two or three times to believe it.

I am looking forward to a diet switch that the big dope has decided to give me. He has been feeding his favorite (Bronwyn) with Orijen large breed puppy food pretty much ever since the stork brought her. (I know. Storks only bring humans, right? Wrong! They bring labs, too.) Anyway, starting tomorrow, I am going to get the Orijen fish diet. It sounds yummy. They use only fresh fish caught in nearby streams, rivers and even some from the Pacific Ocean. Their manufacturing plant is near Edmonton, so none of the fish is ever frozen. I can't wait for tomorrow! Here's hoping my poop stays solid. Speaking of poop, I have been downing most of Bronwyn's poop if the big dope doesn't pick it up first. Her poop actually tastes better than my food. That will change tomorrow when I get Orijen!

And my breath might improve, too.

One of my favorite things to do is to run around the perimeter of the house with the big dope and Reagan. While it is fun, it is still strenuous for me. My legs are still pretty short and I cannot keep up with the big dope. How embarrassing is that? So, it's strenuous and embarrassing. Everyone can outrun the big dope. Except me. Reagan is always way out in front and she keeps coming back to see where we are and taunt us. So, of course, like any athlete I now have some goals. My long term goal is to be faster than Reagan. That will be tough, because she is pretty fast and I think I haven't seen her top speed yet. My short term goal is to run faster than the big dope. I have been told by my running coach (the big dope) that you should always set easy short term goals and progressively harder goals to get to the long term goal. I don't know what to do about that. I don't know anyone else except the sweetheart and she doesn't run. It's a pretty long gap between the big dope and Reagan. Massive, in fact. I should have the big dope with his hands on his knees by the weekend.

I like to stop about 2/3 of the way around the house to take a leak. That always surprises the big dope, even though I do it about every time. Since I am on a leash, he can feel me holding him back when it happens and he turns around and says something stupid, like, "Hey, wha..." Then he sees me peeing and he gets all like, "Good Bronwyn, that's a good girl." Peeing always impresses the big dope. He makes a big deal about that every time. So does the sweetheart. I usually even get a cookie, as long as I am outside when I do it. If I am inside, they still make a big deal, but I am not a rock star anymore. I think I am getting it, but sometimes, I just have to go, you know?

Here is a picture of me with St. Francis of Assisi:

This picture was taken last Sunday. I am going to try to post picture of me with my favorite saint every week. That should give all of you some idea of my growth progress. I am now up to 13.5 pounds and the sweetheart is starting to have trouble picking me up. But I still fit quite nicely on her lap. And I don't mean to imply that she has a big lap, for those of you out there wondering if I am now in the doghouse.

The weekend was gorgeous. I played outside a lot on both Saturday and Sunday. Here are some pictures of me outside:

Me getting ready to bite Reagan Yeah, I'm cute.

But it wasn't all fun and games outside. On Saturday, the big dope put a Gentle Leader on my face. He was pretty tricky about it. He stuck a treat in the loop that goes over my nose and I went for it. Next thing I knew, I had this gizmo on my face. It didn't hurt, but it pissed me off. I just didn't like the feel of it. I spent a long time trying to get it off and generally indicating my disapproval to the big dope. He didn't care. He let me try to get it off for awhile, then he said, "Let's go." And gave a tug. Well, I went. But I still kept trying to get it off. I have a feeling you will be hearing more about this. If I can find where he is keeping it, I will hide it from him...or chew it into little bits...or just swallow it completely so that I have to go in to the vets and have it surgically removed from my stomach. That'll teach him.

Another thing about Saturday. The big dope was watching the NCAA tournament while Reagan and I were wrestling on the floor in front of him in the family room. You know, my room. Well, Reagan bit me something fierce. No blood or anything, but boy, was I surprised. I didn't know she had it in her. I've pretty much been running that show until now. I let out a yelp like you wouldn't believe. I probably jumped about three feet in the air and shot off to the couch, jumped over the pillow that was supposed to block my entrance, and, next thing I knew, I was behind the couch. By the time the big dope, reacted, I was gone. He came over, stood there, and just looked stupid, as usual. He might have been wondering if I disappeared into thin air. That was the look on his face. Then he figured out I was either behind the couch or nowhere and he let me out. Believe me, I wasn't coming out of there without him around.

Here are some more pictures of me outside on Sunday:

Me chewing on a stick

Me just being cute, as usual.

On Sunday, the big dope was watching the Cavs beat the crap out of the Pistons (scroll down to find the Pistons). I am only ten weeks old and I already can't get enough of that. He told me that there are few things in the world that make him happier than watching the Pistons get kicked by the Cavs. He remembers the day, not so very long ago, when the Pistons were the 'bad boys' and were almost unbeatable by the Cavs. Not so much anymore! The Cavs have now beaten them in two straight playoff series and have beaten them in eleven straight games, counting three regular season games last year, the playoffs last year and four regular season games this year. There won't be any more opportunities for the Cavs to beat the Pistons until next season. That's right, for all you Piston fans out there: no playoffs for you this year. That's almost as cool as North Carolina not making the NCAA men's basketball tournament. How cool was that? The only thing that could possibly be cooler would be for the North Carolina women's soccer team to fail to make the NCAA tournament. Never mind that, I just want them to stop winning the whole thing. It is so annoying that they win every year. It reminds me of UCLA basketball from the sixties and seventies.

Getting back to the Cavs from my little ramble. Here is an interesting little tidbit from the Pistons game. LeBron was not the leading scorer in that game. In fact, he did not lead the team in scoring, assists or rebounding in that game. That is the first time he did not lead the team in at least one of those categories since March 21, 2009. That is a whole year. Pretty amazing.

And don't worry. Reagan and I are getting along again. Which means, of course, that I am back in charge.

St. Patrick's Day

Thank God I don't have to wear green today:

I don't think I could stand it. Poor puppy. But I could do with a little Jameson's right now. There's no age limit for dogs, right? Especially on St. Patrick's Day, right? Please?

Since my last post I have had my ups and downs. I went all day yesterday and today without leaving any puddles or other packages in the house. So, that is good, I guess. I am starting to figure out what that bell is for, but it is hard for me to reach it. I think it is pretty cool that all I have to doto get a cookie is ring the bell, go outside and pretend to pee. That's the easiest trick I know. I might just ring the bell every five minutes.

But the other day, when I left a load in the middle of the rug, the big dope showed me this picture and said that I was next:

I hope that doesn't mean what I think it means.

By the way, the rug is gone. I don't know why, I thought it smelled great. It was a very inviting place to piddle.

Good news: Reagan is feeling a little better. There's two ways for me to tell: 1) She is playing with me again, and 2) her butt smells healthy. Don't ask me what that means, I'm a dog. I can't explain it. I'm also starting to figure out that she doesn't really like to have me hanging from her ears. But I so like to grab hold of them that it is hard for me to stop myself.

And what is going on with the big dope? He won't let me go through a door ahead of him anymore. I have to sit and wait for him to go through. It slows everything down. You'd think we were living in Tennessee, for goodness' sake. By the time I get through the door, I forget why I wanted to go through it.

Sorry about no new pictures, but the last few days have been pretty hectic.

New stuff: I can jump down two steps now and I can almost jump over the wall by the driveway. Just give me a week or two for that one.

Power Outage

No post yesterday - power outage and I have no idea how to use my phone to do this. I can barely do it with a computer.

We lost power at 1 am or so Sunday morning and didn't get it back until about 4:45 am Monday morning. I know, because I was up both times.That's right! Bronwyn, little whiner that she is, had me up this morning at 4:15 with her whine this and whine that. The big dope came down and let her outside. Meanwhile, I'm still in the crate wondering why the special treatment.

When they came back in, he let me out. Then he lit a few candles and told us that it wasn't time for breakfast yet. Wait a while...I eat first thing every morning. I don't care what time it is. But no, we had to wait. Then, the lights came on. Joy! The big dope blew out the candles and went around turning off lights that he didn't want on and turning on lights that he did want on. When he came back, guess what the little brat Bronwyn was doing...she was taking a dump right in the middle of the rug. He caught her, said "No" (That word still makes me jump a little even if I know it's not for me.) and then took her right outside. I got to go with this time. We played around out there (Bronwyn didn't have to go, anymore, naturally.), in the rain, and then came back in. While I was out there, I was starting to feel a little punk. I don't know, maybe I caught something.

We came back in and the sweetheart was up. We hung around for awhile and then I got to eat! First! And then right back out into the rain.

The two of them crated us up and went out for awhile, then they came back and the big dope left on his own. I don't know where they're going. He says something about "work." What the hell is that? Isn't it enough work to take care of the brat? Why does he have to go looking for work?

Anyway, the sweetheart stayed home for awhile and then I started feeling really punk. I walked around kind of fidgety like for awhile, sniffed around the walls, avoided the brat jumping on me and biting at me, rang the bell and then, without any further ado, I yorked all over the floor. Boy, did it feel good to get that out. But the sweetheart wasn't acting so sweet anymore. Oh well, I guess it all comes with the territory.

I'm going to bed to try to sleep this off.

Rainy

Well, that little twerp Bronwyn beat me to the punch on the posting today. She stole my title. So, I improved on it. It's tough living with Bronwyn. She whines more than me! And it works for her. When I whine, the big dope just says, "Be quiet" or "Reagan, shut up." The sweetheart usually gives me something, but don't tell the big dope. She's a softie.

Speaking of softies, the sweetheart likes to give me stuff when she is baking and cooking. For example, she will let me lick the beater when she is making stuff like whipped cream, chocolate chip cookies (before she adds the chocolate, of course) and other good stuff. And when she is cutting up veggies ... mm-mm. I get little pieces of carrots, broccoli, etc. (Like my use of the Latin, there? I don't know what the abbreviation stands for in Latin, but I think it means more of the same or something like that.)

But now, with that little twerp Bronwyn around, I am out of luck in the kitchen. Since she learned how to get up the stairs, and since the big dope and the sweetheart aren't ready for her to be there yet because they don't trust her not to pee or poo all over the place, they moved around the family room on us. That's right, they moved stuff around to block the stairs. Can you believe it? Now, my crate (MY CRATE) is in front of the stairs when they want to block access. So, at this very moment, those two are up in the kitchen cooking and I am stuck down here with the little twerp. That's less food for me, in case you were wondering. I don't think I like this arrangement.

If I knew how to do it, I would teach that twerp to pee and poo outside so that we can all be together anywhere in the house again. But, I am guessing that I couldn't do it and, even if I could, those two wouldn't trust her for a few months anyway.

With patience (like dogs have patience), I'll get through it, but I don't have to like it.

Rain

Well, it's been raining all day today. Most of the time, pretty hard. (Cut me some slack, I'm still learning my grammar.) I am not a big fan of going outside in the rain to pee and poo. Especially poo. After I pee, I want to get right back in the house and dry off. But that big dope won't let me go in until I poo. At least, I think that's what's keeping me out there with him. So, it's been a pretty lousy day for me.

I have learned how to get into the kitchen and, since the kitchen wasn't as puppy-proof as the fam room, I got into a little trouble. I started gnawing at the cord that connects the wireless router to the wall and it fell, landing right on me just before it hit the ground. I let out quite a yelp. Yes, I did. The big dope was somewhere else at the time (edit: I was upstairs) and he came running down in a hurry. Maybe he thought I hurt myself. (edit: no, I thought Mom had slipped and fallen.) Anyway, you will know if the router still works if this has appeared on the blog.

I love to bug my big sister. I snap and bite at her and she just takes it. What a wimp! But she does seem to like me a lot because she doesn't bite back (much). She just lays on top of me. We also have some tug o'wars. I usually win. Heheh. Wimp.

The big dope says I weigh 9.8 pounds now, whatever that means. I guess I'm getting bigger, but you could never tell by looking at me next to my sister.

Well, I am losing my attention span for this. Check back later for more info on my awesome life.

Not to complain, but

Well, Bronwyn seems to be getting all the good stuff around here. She gets a cookie every time she goes outside. I don't get anything. Dad keeps saying, "Go potty." I'm like, "Right. Done it. Just cause you're too slow getting outside with the little squirt and don't see me doesn't mean it didn't happen. Now give me a cookie." He just doesn't get it.

When we go back inside. He keeps saying, "Bronwyn, give me your paw." Well, I give him my paw. Do you think I get a cookie? NO. Do you think Bronwyn gives him her filthy little paw? NO. So, no one gets a cookie.

Then that little ball of hell starts nipping at my face. She even grabs hold of my jowls and hangs there. If it hurt, I guess I'd let her know about it. I tried to grab her jowl and hang from it, but she's just too darn small.

Then I keep hearing, "Leave it!" when I'm not even doing anything. And, "Off!" when I'm not even trying to get onto the davenport. I look at Dad like he's crazy, but he just keeps on saying it. Do you think the little rugrat pays any attention? NO. Well, I suppose Dad will learn soon enough.

Reagan and Bronwyn Playing Outside

Coffee and Cream

Reagan

Reagan, our 4.5 year old black lab.

Some More Bronwyn

She is so tiny!

Meet Bronwyn