26 April 2010
Euchre
Well, I learned how to play euchre yesterday with my sisters from Indiana and California. I kept getting confused what with Jacks being Bauers and everything. I thought there was only one Jack Bauer.
23 April 2010
Training
Last night, the big dope took me to my first training session. Let's hope he learns his lessons well, because I wasn't paying attention to anything that the trainer said.
The first thing I noticed was some crap on the back of some lady's leg. Her dog had pooed in the car (or somewhere) and some poo had gotten on her pants without her knowing it. Fortunately for her, some nice people there helped her out. Not the big dope, though. He was so busily immersed in his own little life and thoughts that he just sat there and watched the whole thing play out. What a nice, helpful man!
So, the big dope was sitting there, hopefully taking it all in, when suddenly we got up and we had to walk over to stand with our backs to a wall. There were six other dogs there. One of the dogs had its own big dope there. The other five had their sweethearts with them. Don't ask me.
Well, the big dope starts acting all like he's done this before. You know, acting cool like he's heard it all before. Then, when he is asked to do the things that were being talked about...not so much. Not so cool anymore, hey, big dope? A little flustered trying to go through everything in the right order, are we? Well, then. Looks like you have a lot to practice before you go back the next time. Don't want to look like a big dope, do we, you big dope? I didn't think so.
Let's see, what did the big dope learn? He would probably say, "Nothing." (see above) But in reality, he learned a lot. Here goes:
1. Don't be mean to your dog. Be nice. When you are trying to get your dog to do something, figure out a way to trick the dog into thinking it was her idea. Then praise, praise, praise. Sounds a lot like the office. Or coaching soccer. Or raising a child. Or dealing with the sweetheart. Or...you get the idea.
2. There are lots of types of collars for working with the dog. There is the regular collar. There is a thing called a "Gentle Leader." There is something similar to a gentle leader that is really closer to a muzzle. I don't remember the name. There is a choke collar (the trainer said she preferred to call it something else that sounded nicer). And there is another gizmo that has lots of prongs that stick into a dog's neck. She didn't recommend it, but did say that it has its uses and that there might be occasion to use it in certain situations. I don't remember the name of that one, either. The big dope was all proud of himself for having a gentle leader. Then he didn't even use it because (at least for now) he can control me fairly well without it. We will see how that goes.
3. There is a specific way to hold the leash. The trainer wants the big dope to hold the leash using a baseball grip (both hands) over at the left hand side of the body. It looks like it might take the big dope a little time to get used to that, but he was trying. His big problem is self-consciousness. Hey, big dope, get over it and get on with it.
4. There is a position called the "heel position." That is where I am sitting nicely next to the big dope, next to his heel. It's where everything starts.
5. There is a proper way to start walking. You don't automatically say, "Heel." That means something very specific. I can walk nicely next to the big dope without being in heel mode.
6. The big dope can start me walking by saying anything he wants. As long as it is the same thing every time, of course. The big dope has chosen to say, "Let's go." When he says that, he starts walking with his left foot first and I am supposed to follow. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. Not everything is easy, you big dope.
7. When the trainer says, "Halt," and whenever the big dope feels like it, probably, the big dope is supposed to stop me by saying, "Sit." And he is supposed to run his left hand down the leash, bend over, place three fingers of his right hand under my collar and finally run his left hand down my back from my shoulder to my butt while saying "Sit." He is supposed to apply slight pressure to my butt, if necessary, but he is not to say "sit" again. Only one command is given and I am supposed to do what he says. Sheesh. I think he's trying to establish who's boss. We'll see how that goes, too. Another thing. If my butt is sticking out too far (that is, if I am not facing forward), the big dope is to touch my side and say, "Over." That is my signal to face forward. And the trainer told him that he is supposed to make me sit before everything. Everything. That's going to get old.
8. The big dope also learned a command that is supposed to give me freedom. It's like "At ease" in the Army. The trainer calls that a "break." She said that she sometimes uses the command, "Okay" for this, but that she didn't really recommend it. She told all the people there to think of what command they would use for break, and then they had to do it. My big dope said, "Come." What a dope. Not only is that a command for something else entirely, the trainer had earlier said that every time anyone used the command "come" for the first three sessions, they would owe her fifteen dollars. And that everyone had one free pass. Well, the big dope used up his free pass in the most stupid way imaginable. I am still looking forward to hearing the command he will use for break. I get the feeling that he is trying to think of something really clever that will make him think that everybody thinks he is cool and hip. God only knows what he'll come up with. He'll probably think it's cool while everyone else realizes that he has exposed himself as a useless idiot. Worse, he won't even know. And then, of course, I am supposed to magically know what he wants. He'll probably end up saying something really imaginative. Like, "Break." And then feel all dumb about it. (He has a right to feel dumb, in my opinion.)
9. Praise. The big dope is supposed to praise me a lot every time I do something right. And maybe even give me a treat. I can get used to that, I bet.
10. He is supposed to touch me all over and tell me what my body parts are. So, he did a bunch of that and embarrassed the crap out of me by touching my ears and nose and mouth and teeth and back and paws and eyes and stomach and giving me the English word for all of those things. What a dope. What if I speak French? And let me say that I am a little upset that the big dope was too dignified, or something, to touch my butt or any of my private parts. Doesn't he think I need to know the word for those? He doesn't have any problem going outside with me and saying, for all the world to hear, "Poop." And the sweetheart next to us wasn't embarrassed at all to reach down, touch something on the dog next to us and say, "Penis." Hey, I never said this was going to be a family friendly post. Anyway, it's anatomy.
I was, of course, the star of the training session. I was the youngest and cutest dog there by far. But, boy, there were some pretty big dogs. There was one that was the size of a year old bear cub that was only six months old. I have a long way to go to catch up to that dog. But, and I say this in all honesty, that dog did not scare me one bit. I went right up to it and sniffed its nose and didn't flinch. There was another dog there that was twice my size that didn't stop shaking. Sissy.
Well, that's about it for my first training session. I will, if you are lucky, let you hear more about my progress as the days go by. I know how you all crave to read about my wonderfulness.
The first thing I noticed was some crap on the back of some lady's leg. Her dog had pooed in the car (or somewhere) and some poo had gotten on her pants without her knowing it. Fortunately for her, some nice people there helped her out. Not the big dope, though. He was so busily immersed in his own little life and thoughts that he just sat there and watched the whole thing play out. What a nice, helpful man!
So, the big dope was sitting there, hopefully taking it all in, when suddenly we got up and we had to walk over to stand with our backs to a wall. There were six other dogs there. One of the dogs had its own big dope there. The other five had their sweethearts with them. Don't ask me.
Well, the big dope starts acting all like he's done this before. You know, acting cool like he's heard it all before. Then, when he is asked to do the things that were being talked about...not so much. Not so cool anymore, hey, big dope? A little flustered trying to go through everything in the right order, are we? Well, then. Looks like you have a lot to practice before you go back the next time. Don't want to look like a big dope, do we, you big dope? I didn't think so.
Let's see, what did the big dope learn? He would probably say, "Nothing." (see above) But in reality, he learned a lot. Here goes:
1. Don't be mean to your dog. Be nice. When you are trying to get your dog to do something, figure out a way to trick the dog into thinking it was her idea. Then praise, praise, praise. Sounds a lot like the office. Or coaching soccer. Or raising a child. Or dealing with the sweetheart. Or...you get the idea.
2. There are lots of types of collars for working with the dog. There is the regular collar. There is a thing called a "Gentle Leader." There is something similar to a gentle leader that is really closer to a muzzle. I don't remember the name. There is a choke collar (the trainer said she preferred to call it something else that sounded nicer). And there is another gizmo that has lots of prongs that stick into a dog's neck. She didn't recommend it, but did say that it has its uses and that there might be occasion to use it in certain situations. I don't remember the name of that one, either. The big dope was all proud of himself for having a gentle leader. Then he didn't even use it because (at least for now) he can control me fairly well without it. We will see how that goes.
3. There is a specific way to hold the leash. The trainer wants the big dope to hold the leash using a baseball grip (both hands) over at the left hand side of the body. It looks like it might take the big dope a little time to get used to that, but he was trying. His big problem is self-consciousness. Hey, big dope, get over it and get on with it.
4. There is a position called the "heel position." That is where I am sitting nicely next to the big dope, next to his heel. It's where everything starts.
5. There is a proper way to start walking. You don't automatically say, "Heel." That means something very specific. I can walk nicely next to the big dope without being in heel mode.
6. The big dope can start me walking by saying anything he wants. As long as it is the same thing every time, of course. The big dope has chosen to say, "Let's go." When he says that, he starts walking with his left foot first and I am supposed to follow. Sometimes I do, sometimes I don't. Not everything is easy, you big dope.
7. When the trainer says, "Halt," and whenever the big dope feels like it, probably, the big dope is supposed to stop me by saying, "Sit." And he is supposed to run his left hand down the leash, bend over, place three fingers of his right hand under my collar and finally run his left hand down my back from my shoulder to my butt while saying "Sit." He is supposed to apply slight pressure to my butt, if necessary, but he is not to say "sit" again. Only one command is given and I am supposed to do what he says. Sheesh. I think he's trying to establish who's boss. We'll see how that goes, too. Another thing. If my butt is sticking out too far (that is, if I am not facing forward), the big dope is to touch my side and say, "Over." That is my signal to face forward. And the trainer told him that he is supposed to make me sit before everything. Everything. That's going to get old.
8. The big dope also learned a command that is supposed to give me freedom. It's like "At ease" in the Army. The trainer calls that a "break." She said that she sometimes uses the command, "Okay" for this, but that she didn't really recommend it. She told all the people there to think of what command they would use for break, and then they had to do it. My big dope said, "Come." What a dope. Not only is that a command for something else entirely, the trainer had earlier said that every time anyone used the command "come" for the first three sessions, they would owe her fifteen dollars. And that everyone had one free pass. Well, the big dope used up his free pass in the most stupid way imaginable. I am still looking forward to hearing the command he will use for break. I get the feeling that he is trying to think of something really clever that will make him think that everybody thinks he is cool and hip. God only knows what he'll come up with. He'll probably think it's cool while everyone else realizes that he has exposed himself as a useless idiot. Worse, he won't even know. And then, of course, I am supposed to magically know what he wants. He'll probably end up saying something really imaginative. Like, "Break." And then feel all dumb about it. (He has a right to feel dumb, in my opinion.)
9. Praise. The big dope is supposed to praise me a lot every time I do something right. And maybe even give me a treat. I can get used to that, I bet.
10. He is supposed to touch me all over and tell me what my body parts are. So, he did a bunch of that and embarrassed the crap out of me by touching my ears and nose and mouth and teeth and back and paws and eyes and stomach and giving me the English word for all of those things. What a dope. What if I speak French? And let me say that I am a little upset that the big dope was too dignified, or something, to touch my butt or any of my private parts. Doesn't he think I need to know the word for those? He doesn't have any problem going outside with me and saying, for all the world to hear, "Poop." And the sweetheart next to us wasn't embarrassed at all to reach down, touch something on the dog next to us and say, "Penis." Hey, I never said this was going to be a family friendly post. Anyway, it's anatomy.
I was, of course, the star of the training session. I was the youngest and cutest dog there by far. But, boy, there were some pretty big dogs. There was one that was the size of a year old bear cub that was only six months old. I have a long way to go to catch up to that dog. But, and I say this in all honesty, that dog did not scare me one bit. I went right up to it and sniffed its nose and didn't flinch. There was another dog there that was twice my size that didn't stop shaking. Sissy.
Well, that's about it for my first training session. I will, if you are lucky, let you hear more about my progress as the days go by. I know how you all crave to read about my wonderfulness.
15 April 2010
Cleeeeeeeeeevelaaaaaaaand
Are. You. Ready?
Here is your First Round Cavalier Schedule:
Saturday at 3:00 pm on ABC in Cleveland.
Monday at 8:00 pm on TNT in Cleveland.
Thursday at 7:00 pm on TNT in Chicago.
Sunday at 3:30 pm on ABC in Chicago.
That should just about do it for the first round.
Come on you Cavs.
Here is your First Round Cavalier Schedule:
Saturday at 3:00 pm on ABC in Cleveland.
Monday at 8:00 pm on TNT in Cleveland.
Thursday at 7:00 pm on TNT in Chicago.
Sunday at 3:30 pm on ABC in Chicago.
That should just about do it for the first round.
Come on you Cavs.
On to the Playoffs
Leave it to ESPN to mention that the last time a team lost four games entering the playoffs and still won the NBA championship was 1969-1970 when the Knicks did it. I don't have time right now to check to see how many teams have been in the playoffs since then who ended the season on four game losing streaks, nor do I have time to look at a smaller pool to see how many 60-win teams have been in the playoffs who ended the season on four game losing streaks. Maybe tonight.
Why not mention that the last time the Cavs played the Bulls in the playoffs the Bulls won (1994 Eastern Conference First Round)? Wouldn't that be even more poignant? Or that the Cavs have never beaten the Bulls in a playoff series, going 0 for 5 against the Bulls (1988 first round, 1989 first round, 1992 conference finals, 1993 conference semifinals, 1994 first round). How's that for futility?
Want more? How about the 1989 Eastern Conference first round final game. In Cleveland. Chicago has the ball. Down one with 19 seconds to go. They take the ball in under their own basket and get the ball down the floor to Jordan, who makes a ten footer from the elbow with 6 seconds left. Chicago 99 Cleveland 98. Cleveland calls a time out. Ehlo passes the ball in to Nance, who sets a screen and gives it back to Ehlo. Ehlo drives for a layup. Cleveland 100 Chicago 99 with 3 seconds left. Chicago time out. The rest is history and I won't describe the painful events that happen next. You've seen it a million times. They've made commercials out of it. It made Jordan an instant hero in Chicago and created millions of frontrunning Bulls fans. It was the virtual beginning of Jordan's superstar run. Known as "The Shot" in Cleveland and elsewhere, it made the entire city of Cleveland into Jordan-haters. To this day. Here is the whole painful episode, with its highs and very low lows:
So, let's play this out. The Cavs are by far the better team with or without LeBron. But the game must be played. The Cavs were better than the Bulls in 1989, too, even though the Bulls had Jordan. This was the breakout season for the Bulls and it was at Cleveland's expense. All those of you in the Q for the next two games...let's not forget this!
Oh, the Cleveland Cavaliers are great. They're number 1!
Why not mention that the last time the Cavs played the Bulls in the playoffs the Bulls won (1994 Eastern Conference First Round)? Wouldn't that be even more poignant? Or that the Cavs have never beaten the Bulls in a playoff series, going 0 for 5 against the Bulls (1988 first round, 1989 first round, 1992 conference finals, 1993 conference semifinals, 1994 first round). How's that for futility?
Want more? How about the 1989 Eastern Conference first round final game. In Cleveland. Chicago has the ball. Down one with 19 seconds to go. They take the ball in under their own basket and get the ball down the floor to Jordan, who makes a ten footer from the elbow with 6 seconds left. Chicago 99 Cleveland 98. Cleveland calls a time out. Ehlo passes the ball in to Nance, who sets a screen and gives it back to Ehlo. Ehlo drives for a layup. Cleveland 100 Chicago 99 with 3 seconds left. Chicago time out. The rest is history and I won't describe the painful events that happen next. You've seen it a million times. They've made commercials out of it. It made Jordan an instant hero in Chicago and created millions of frontrunning Bulls fans. It was the virtual beginning of Jordan's superstar run. Known as "The Shot" in Cleveland and elsewhere, it made the entire city of Cleveland into Jordan-haters. To this day. Here is the whole painful episode, with its highs and very low lows:
So, let's play this out. The Cavs are by far the better team with or without LeBron. But the game must be played. The Cavs were better than the Bulls in 1989, too, even though the Bulls had Jordan. This was the breakout season for the Bulls and it was at Cleveland's expense. All those of you in the Q for the next two games...let's not forget this!
Oh, the Cleveland Cavaliers are great. They're number 1!
14 April 2010
St. Totteringham's Day delayed
One team in London, There's only one team in London, One team in London, There's only one team in London.
Shame about the Arsenal
St. Totteringham's Day was delayed today when Spurs rose up and humbled the lowly Arseholes at White Hart Lane, 2-1 on a goal from debutante Danny Rose and a second from Gareth Bale off a brilliant hold and pass by Jermain Defoe, who had a bad day otherwise.
The scum were down 1-0 in the tenth minute and the second goal came just after halftime. They held the two goal lead until five minutes from time when Bendtner scored on a weak effort that barely beat Spurs keeper Gomez* and, rather remarkably, was offside to boot. Never mind, though, Super Spurs were ecstatic at the close of the match, which ended on a Spurs corner with the ball being held in the corner and the helpless Gooners flailing about trying to get the ball back.
Sol Campbell made an appearance for the visitors but was magnificently ineffective and Spurs supporters, who booed him mercilessly early on, were left laughing at his efforts as the game wore on until he became a caricature of poor play late in the game.
I have always known that Arseholes suck (sorry about the language, I learned that from the sweetheart the other day when she said something about our President ... can't remember exactly what it was, but suckitude was involved.
*I think this is the wrong Gomez, sorry.
We are Tottenham, we are Tottenham Super Tottenham, from the Lane We are Tottenham, Super Tottenham, We are Tottenham, from the Lane, We are Tottenham, Super Tottenham from the Lane, We are Tottenham, We are Tottenham from the Lane.
Shame about the Arsenal
St. Totteringham's Day was delayed today when Spurs rose up and humbled the lowly Arseholes at White Hart Lane, 2-1 on a goal from debutante Danny Rose and a second from Gareth Bale off a brilliant hold and pass by Jermain Defoe, who had a bad day otherwise.
The scum were down 1-0 in the tenth minute and the second goal came just after halftime. They held the two goal lead until five minutes from time when Bendtner scored on a weak effort that barely beat Spurs keeper Gomez* and, rather remarkably, was offside to boot. Never mind, though, Super Spurs were ecstatic at the close of the match, which ended on a Spurs corner with the ball being held in the corner and the helpless Gooners flailing about trying to get the ball back.
Sol Campbell made an appearance for the visitors but was magnificently ineffective and Spurs supporters, who booed him mercilessly early on, were left laughing at his efforts as the game wore on until he became a caricature of poor play late in the game.
I have always known that Arseholes suck (sorry about the language, I learned that from the sweetheart the other day when she said something about our President ... can't remember exactly what it was, but suckitude was involved.
*I think this is the wrong Gomez, sorry.
We are Tottenham, we are Tottenham Super Tottenham, from the Lane We are Tottenham, Super Tottenham, We are Tottenham, from the Lane, We are Tottenham, Super Tottenham from the Lane, We are Tottenham, We are Tottenham from the Lane.
Who is Danny Rose?
You may well ask, "Who is Danny Rose?" And you may not have any inclination whatsoever to care who Danny Rose might be. However, Danny Rose just happens to be the scorer of a brilliant goal in today's Tottenham v Arsenal league fixture. The goal put Spurs up 1-0, a lead they never relinquished. It was a day of great joy for Rose, since the goal was his first ever in the Premiership and came just ten minutes into his debut. What a way to start, Danny! Here's to a long and fruitful career with Spurs. And may you be the talisman that leads Spurs on a long, long winning streak against the reviled and despicable Gooners.
COYS.
COYS.
Tiger's Language Problem
The Big Dope had a question for me this morning that I couldn't answer. Is there anyone out there who can enlighten him on this? I will pass your thoughts along if they have any merit whatsoever. Here is what he asked me, with a little background (he was grousing around a lot over this, as only he can do when he gets worked up over stuff like this):
Tiger Woods has a language problem and he always has when in the thick of battle against a golf course. When things go wrong, Tiger's mouth goes haywire. Now, don't get me wrong, he is not the only one who spews sin out of his mouth. I dare say we all sin that way from time to time. It is sad to say, but I, too, manage a good curse on occasion when the mood strikes. But my question goes a little deeper than just that. I have a question about Tiger's choice of curses.
At the Masters last weekend, after having told the world on Monday that he was going to be better behaved on the course, Tiger had juuuust a few miscues. In fact, at one point, he said, "Tiger, you suck!" which was followed shortly with, and please excuse me, "God damn it!" Later, he spit out "God, Tiiiigerrrr! ... Jesus Christ!"
Now, much of the media out there is hitting Tiger hard over the hypocrisy of saying one thing (that he was going to avoid bad language and temper tantrums) and doing another. I don't have a problem with that. We all struggle with our free will and often fall, most of us more often than we would like to admit. So, the media is being a little unfair with this because even those in the media fight that fight with themselves on a daily basis, as do we all.
Now, the "Tiger, you suck!", if said on air by any news or opinion person, would have resulted in the firing of anyone, including CBS icon Jim Nantz and probably even Bill O'Reilly (Maybe Keith Olberman could get away with saying something like "George Bush, you suck!" and he probably has said that at least once, though maybe not, but that would be on MSNBC and almost no one would see it, so no one would really care.) But that is not what is troubling me.
I am a little puzzled over the use of Jesus' name in vain. According to Tiger Woods, he is a Buddhist. Why is it then, that Tiger feels it necessary to take the name of God in vain? If he doesn't believe in the Christian God, why invoke His Name? It is offensive to all Christians, and it means nothing to him. Why doesn't he say, "Buddha!" or some similar Buddhist curse? I am sure that would be just as bad to Buddhists as saying "Jesus Christ" is to Christians. So, Tiger's sin would be more religion specific, more poignant for him.
I am not saying, of course, that only Christians can take the name of Jesus in vain. Of course, they can't. It is a sin spelled out in the Ten Commandments. (Bonus points for which commandment.) But what could it possibly mean to Tiger, a Buddhist, to utter such language?
Anyone?
Perhaps now would be a good time to pause and say the Litany of the Holy Name of Jesus in reparation for sins committed against Jesus' name. It will only take a few minutes, and it can't hurt. Consider it a well-spent work break.
Tiger Woods has a language problem and he always has when in the thick of battle against a golf course. When things go wrong, Tiger's mouth goes haywire. Now, don't get me wrong, he is not the only one who spews sin out of his mouth. I dare say we all sin that way from time to time. It is sad to say, but I, too, manage a good curse on occasion when the mood strikes. But my question goes a little deeper than just that. I have a question about Tiger's choice of curses.
At the Masters last weekend, after having told the world on Monday that he was going to be better behaved on the course, Tiger had juuuust a few miscues. In fact, at one point, he said, "Tiger, you suck!" which was followed shortly with, and please excuse me, "God damn it!" Later, he spit out "God, Tiiiigerrrr! ... Jesus Christ!"
Now, much of the media out there is hitting Tiger hard over the hypocrisy of saying one thing (that he was going to avoid bad language and temper tantrums) and doing another. I don't have a problem with that. We all struggle with our free will and often fall, most of us more often than we would like to admit. So, the media is being a little unfair with this because even those in the media fight that fight with themselves on a daily basis, as do we all.
Now, the "Tiger, you suck!", if said on air by any news or opinion person, would have resulted in the firing of anyone, including CBS icon Jim Nantz and probably even Bill O'Reilly (Maybe Keith Olberman could get away with saying something like "George Bush, you suck!" and he probably has said that at least once, though maybe not, but that would be on MSNBC and almost no one would see it, so no one would really care.) But that is not what is troubling me.
I am a little puzzled over the use of Jesus' name in vain. According to Tiger Woods, he is a Buddhist. Why is it then, that Tiger feels it necessary to take the name of God in vain? If he doesn't believe in the Christian God, why invoke His Name? It is offensive to all Christians, and it means nothing to him. Why doesn't he say, "Buddha!" or some similar Buddhist curse? I am sure that would be just as bad to Buddhists as saying "Jesus Christ" is to Christians. So, Tiger's sin would be more religion specific, more poignant for him.
I am not saying, of course, that only Christians can take the name of Jesus in vain. Of course, they can't. It is a sin spelled out in the Ten Commandments. (Bonus points for which commandment.) But what could it possibly mean to Tiger, a Buddhist, to utter such language?
Anyone?
Perhaps now would be a good time to pause and say the Litany of the Holy Name of Jesus in reparation for sins committed against Jesus' name. It will only take a few minutes, and it can't hurt. Consider it a well-spent work break.
13 April 2010
Here are some pictures from the weekend
This is my new "wiener dog" look. 
Here I am kicking Bronwyn's ass.
Happy dog, all snotted up and ready to give the sweetheart a big kiss.
Bronwyn thinks she's leading, but I'm actually chasing.
Here I am kicking Bronwyn's ass.
Happy dog, all snotted up and ready to give the sweetheart a big kiss.
Bronwyn thinks she's leading, but I'm actually chasing.
12 April 2010
04 April 2010
Happy Easter from me too
Here are the weekly pics of me with St.Francis. Either the statue is shrinking, or I am getting bigger. I'll let you figure that out for yourselves. But here's a hint: I weigh 16 pounds as of Thursday.
Happy Easter!
Here is the sweetheart's latest. Rhubarb pie right out of the oven. Now, in the old days (Pre-Bronwyn, which I will abbreviate PB from now on), I would have been right there in the kitchen with the sweetheart helping her make that pie. Of course, by helping, I mean eating the scraps. Hey, it is a big help to her not to have to put all of the scraps into the garbage. I perform a valuable service.
I was going to post a picture of me and Bronwyn sleeping together from last night, but it looks like Bronwyn beat me to it. Isn't she something? I won't let just anyone sleep next to me like that. It is interesting to read what she imagines about me. It couldn't be further from the truth. I love Bronwyn very much. Anyone could have seen that yesterday when the big dope, Bronwyn and I were running around the house. (She is getting a little faster, by the way, but still not fast enough to beat the big dope.) I was way out front, and a little bored. So I changed course and swooped in for a quick attack. I did this about ten times and Bronwyn couldn't handle it. She had no idea where I was coming from or what I was going to bite next. So, anyone who thinks that Bronwyn's notions about being queen of the house have any basis in reality is no more than a sucker for cuteness.
I am now full time on Orijen fish food. It is awesome! I could eat the whole bag in about ten minutes. I am so glad I am getting to eat that stuff. But the big dope told the sweetheart today that I smell like fish. I don't care what I smell like if I get to keep eating it.
I was going to post a picture of me and Bronwyn sleeping together from last night, but it looks like Bronwyn beat me to it. Isn't she something? I won't let just anyone sleep next to me like that. It is interesting to read what she imagines about me. It couldn't be further from the truth. I love Bronwyn very much. Anyone could have seen that yesterday when the big dope, Bronwyn and I were running around the house. (She is getting a little faster, by the way, but still not fast enough to beat the big dope.) I was way out front, and a little bored. So I changed course and swooped in for a quick attack. I did this about ten times and Bronwyn couldn't handle it. She had no idea where I was coming from or what I was going to bite next. So, anyone who thinks that Bronwyn's notions about being queen of the house have any basis in reality is no more than a sucker for cuteness.
I am now full time on Orijen fish food. It is awesome! I could eat the whole bag in about ten minutes. I am so glad I am getting to eat that stuff. But the big dope told the sweetheart today that I smell like fish. I don't care what I smell like if I get to keep eating it.
Update
Here is a picture of me and Reagan sleeping together last night. We were on the couch. The sweetheart is a softie and the big dope answers to the sweetheart, so, we're good. Note the slightly dominant position I am in. It won't be long now. I will be the queen doggie around this house and Reagan is just going to have to live with it.
Here I am just starting to wake up. Reagan is absolutely out like a light. I could take a chunk out of her hide right now and she would probably not feel it for a few minutes, at least. Here is a secret about Reagan: she talks in her sleep. The big dope and the sweetheart think she is just making weird noises. But I know better. Since I have been here, her dreams have been nightmares and all she can talk about when she is sleeping is how she can't stand me and wants me to go away. Of course, when I am awake, she doesn't have the guts to say that to my face. Typical. Queen Bronwyn. Hey, I like the sound of that. It makes me sound like an old Irish queen.
Here I am just starting to wake up. Reagan is absolutely out like a light. I could take a chunk out of her hide right now and she would probably not feel it for a few minutes, at least. Here is a secret about Reagan: she talks in her sleep. The big dope and the sweetheart think she is just making weird noises. But I know better. Since I have been here, her dreams have been nightmares and all she can talk about when she is sleeping is how she can't stand me and wants me to go away. Of course, when I am awake, she doesn't have the guts to say that to my face. Typical. Queen Bronwyn. Hey, I like the sound of that. It makes me sound like an old Irish queen.
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