Dogs Do Not Need Manis

So, every couple months, Sarah takes me to the groomer to get my nails ground. It's pretty boring. I mean, the groomer hooks me up to the grooming table, and she has a grinder that grinds down my nails. It's quick and painless, plus Sarah usually gets me a treat, like standing around while I get my nails done is some horrible thing I have to endure. I'm not going to do anything to change her opinion on this, as I do enjoy treats. A lot.

However, today, after I had my nails trimmed and we had gotten back home, Sarah decided that my manicure was not up to her standards. And so, I had to endure further humiliation.

Do not adjust your monitor. Those are my toenails. And yes, they are red.

So, I sat there while Sarah painted my toenails. Bright, bright red. No way to hide that sort of indignity when we're out in public. I would have fought against this, but really, when a human is painting a dog's toenails, the natural reaction is to just stand there, staring, and wondering what the hell is going on.

Anyway, I am currently attempting to figure out a way to get back at Sarah for this latest humiliating act. I'm happy to entertain suggestions.

Something I Wish Sarah Had Not Seen

So, the other night, Sarah recorded a television show called "Extreme Poodles."

I am not a poodle. However, I am extreme. Extremely cute and awesome.

Now, I was more interested in this show than I usually am when it comes to Sarah's television choices (the woman thinks Maury is a great show. Sarah...you are NOT the best person to ask about what one should and should not watch on television). I mean, it involves dogs, so I thought it could not be all bad. And with extreme in the title, I kind of figured it would show dogs doing cool things like climbing mountains and surfing and the like.

Oh my Lordy Lord, I was extremely wrong about this show having the potential to be cool.

You see, Extreme Poodles is about people who paint and groom their dogs to look like things other than dogs. You think I am kidding? I sincerely wish I was kidding about this.

No, your eyes are not tricking you. That's a dog groomed to be a dragon. Yes, a dragon. That poor, poor dog. There are more examples of this horror here.

Needless to say (but I will anyway), I was aghast at this. Who would do this to a poor, sweet puppy? I'll tell you who: Sarah.

Fortunately, I am not a poodle, nor am I light colored. Therefore, Sarah cannot do this to me (I hope). Otherwise, you know she would totally try it. She probably thinks I would look good as a pink dog. Newsflash, Sarah: If dogs were meant to be pink (or dragons, for that matter), we would be born that way.

A video about the show. In case you are wondering just how horrible it truly was.

Anyway, I do not encourage you to watch this show. Sarah, on the other hand, thinks it's the best thing on television. Even better than her precious Maury.

Golf? Really?

Last week, I mentioned in a blog post that I was happy Sarah is not a soccer fan, because I'm sure she would have dressed me up in some World Cup outfit (probably involving a vuvuzela).

I should have known better than to think her days of dressing me up in sports-related items were not over.

The least Sarah could have done was let me use a driver. No one likes to putt. It's why you can use the putting green for free but have to pay out the nose for the range.

Golf? Really? Do people even watch that since Tiger got caught being a dog? (I think I may have just insulted myself and all my kind...)

Sarah seems to have decided the sport to watch this weekend is golf. It's the U.S. Open this weekend out in California, so, um, yeah. I have nothing that hasn't been said about a game that, as far as I can tell, is more boring to watch than paint drying. At least when Sarah is watching it, she leaves me alone. I guess that's bonus.

And do you see that polo shirt? I guess I should be happy that it isn't pink. Well, it has pink stripes, but it's mostly not pink, so that's good. But really, does Sarah think I am actually going golfing anytime soon? While I would enjoy running around the golf course, and chasing the balls after people hit them, I have no desire to play a game that has been called a good walk ruined (an appropriate description, as far as I can tell). Sarah already knows how to ruin a walk without involving a game so boring as golf.

Anyway, here's hoping that there are no other sports Sarah will want to watch anytime soon. I've had enough of these sports outfits.

Dogs in the News: Things I Don't Want to Find in the Backyard Edition

OK, I know I complain about squirrels a lot, but it turns out that there are worse things that could taunt me in the backyard: alligators.

Now, some of you probably live places where alligators are pretty common. I can assure you, in the middle of Indiana, they are not so common. Which is why this story from Columbus, Ohio, is so scary. You see, Columbus is very similar to where I live - in the middle of the country, seemingly safe from warm weather dangers arising out of the murky depths of swamps. But, apparently, I was mistaken about what one can find here in the middle of America:

Sales manager Jeff Colucy had his Weimaraner in the parking lot at a Columbus company that makes office fixtures when the dog went "on point" Wednesday morning.

Colucy told his boss he discovered the dog was focused on an alligator hunkered down in a puddle.

You know what the scariest part about that is? The alligator was not even in a swamp - it was in a PUDDLE. I have an entire mini pool in my backyard, think of the number of gators that could live in something like that! Terrifying.

This? This is a horrible thing to do to your dog (but illustrative of the horrors of alligators and dogs, even if it is in costume and not actual form). I'm sure Sarah is already considering this for one of my Halloween costumes this year.

On the plus side, perhaps this will make Sarah reconsider the pool (and, more importantly, dressing me up to go swimming).

Unacceptable Walking Behavior

I love my walks. They are one of the few things Sarah does well. So, it pretty much goes without saying that she would find a way to screw them up and make my life worse.

In the morning, Sarah is too lazy to get out of bed early enough to give me a long walk, so we take a short one. Now, normally I would complain about this, but on my morning walk, I get to see two of my favorite people, both of whom give me treats. So, that's awesome. And then I get to play with several other dogs while Sarah chats with people, which is also cool. In the afternoon, I get a long walk, which is quite nice, actually.

However, things weren't always so nice. You see, back when I was a younger pup, I attended puppy training classes. I was awesome at these classes, except I really hated doing one thing: walking on my leash properly (you know, without pulling Sarah).

The joys of pulling Sarah along behind me are many. For example, if it's muddy, she might slip and fall. Her arm hurts from all my pulling, which is a at least a little bit of punishment for the horrible things she does to me. Plus, we end up getting where we're going faster, as if Sarah had her druthers, we'd go at snail speed. BORING.

Sarah did not appreciate all this pulling, so she asked my puppy trainer what to do. The puppy trainer gave her this special harness for me. It was very, very NOT COOL because it was (a) pink, and (b) perfect for making me have to walk without pulling Sarah. Anyway, as long as the harness was part of my life, my walks were not fun. I like pulling Sarah around!

Obviously, I needed to do something about this harness. So, one day at day care, the owner left my harness hanging up where I could reach it. I promptly got it off of its hook and chewed it all up! That's right, $25 of Sarah's money, gone! And me, I got to go back to pulling Sarah.

Without the harness, Sarah quickly tired of this pulling, and purchased another harness. Stupidly, Sarah let me sit in the backseat of the car, and left the harness on me. And you know what? I chewed that one up as well! And the best part? Sarah saw what I had done, and decided that, having spent $50 on harnesses, she wasn't about to purchase another one for me, as I chew them up as soon as I can. She figured that a little arm hurt was worth saving $25.

This state of life without a harness lasted over a year. However, last week we were in the park, and I saw a squirrel and lunged for it. In the process, Sarah fell over. Like, flat on the ground. That part? HILARIOUS.

Not so hilarious? Our trip to the store that very same night to pick up a new harness.

This? This is me in my third harness, contemplating methods to open the drawer where Sarah keeps it so I can destroy yet another $25 of Sarah's hard-earned money.
While Sarah falling over on my account was great, the harness is horrible. I have to walk right next to Sarah all the time, even though the last thing I want is for people to think I'm her dog. I have to walk at snail speed. And dog harnesses are seriously not cool with the dogs in the park. So humiliating.

Still, so long as I can destroy it pretty soon, definitely worth seeing Sarah fall on her butt.

Baseball Season for Choppy

So, I have previously documented Sarah's love of football. However, she also loves baseball (I'm sure some of you who have been following this blog for awhile can see where this is going).

Terre Haute, the place where Sarah (a.k.a., Butthead Supreme) and I live, just got a baseball team called the Terre Haute Rex - it's basically college kids, who play baseball during the summer. Sadly, despite my previously expressed desire to run around a baseball field and enjoy its soft, sweet grass while I relieve myself, dogs are not allowed at the ballpark.

Now, if dogs were allowed at the ballpark, I would totally be a fan of the Terre Haute Rex. However, I'm not allowed there, so I'm pretty indifferent to the team. What I am not indifferent to is what Sarah has subjected me to as part of her desire to humiliate me in as many ways as possible.

Oh, don't worry. As if Sarah would stop at dressing me in a t-shirt. More to come.
Certainly not to my surprise, Sarah did not purchase herself a Terre Haute Rex t-shirt. Nope, she bought me a shirt instead. Upon getting home, she promptly dressed me up in said shirt.

However, that's not where she stopped. Oh no, of course that's not where she stopped.

A hat? Really, Sarah, at this point I wonder how you find such wonderful new ways to make me hate you on such a regular basis.
Do you know how I know that dogs are not meant to wear baseball caps? Because they cover up my ears, and I can't hear anything! While this has the bonus of giving me an excuse for not obeying Sarah's stupid rules (because I can't hear them), it still is unpleasant. It hurts my little ears!

Remember what I said in an earlier post about a hit man? It still applies.
You know what? This incident makes me fear for the next bit of clothing Sarah trots out. Thank goodness she's not a soccer fan. I can only imagine what sort of horrible things I would be forced to dress in because of the World Cup.