Hi all! Sarah is still horrible...it's just that her horrible-ness is almost always found on my Facebook page these days. Come on over and see. It's still very, very bad. And updated almost every day of the week.
So, having been dressed up last week for the 4th of July, I thought I might get out of an outfit for the actual 4th of July.
Turns out, like so many times before, I was wrong. Oh so wrong.
Yet another tiara. Seriously, I've never seen anyone wear one on the 4th of July, yet Sarah has managed to come up with TWO of them this year. And do you see those fireworks in the back? Those things look dangerous, particularly in the hands of someone like Sarah, who can't even manage to get through a day without running into a wall or tripping over something or doing all manner of other clumsy things. I don't want to be anywhere near her when she is setting those off.
Thankfully, I'm up in Wisconsin, where there is plenty of room to avoid Sarah. I have been doing an OK job of that, but obviously, you can see in these pictures that I didn't do a great job, because she caught me long enough to dress me up. In front of the cats, no less, so I'm sure they thoroughly enjoyed my humiliation. It's going to take weeks of chasing them to make up for their amusement at my expense.
This is not the look of a dog who is having a good time. Trust me on that one.
Anyway, have a safe and happy 4th of July everyone!
Last 4th of July, Sarah decided it would be a good idea to paint "U.S.A." on my side. Although I have tried to forget that traumatic experience, it's still burned into my brain.
We're headed to Wisconsin for the weekend, so Sarah decided I needed to get dressed up for the 4th of July today. She had to do it today, because we are headed up there tonight and she wanted to make sure she had something she finds amusing to show off before we get there (I'll be sure to post pics and maybe some video of the trip at my Facebook page). This is what she came up with this year to humiliate me with:
This is your owner's brain at 32, single, and with too few hobbies.
And if you missed it, here's what she did to me last year:
I'm hoping the paints stay at home this year.
Anyway, here's hoping that you have a Happy 4th of July. Preferably one where all dogs you know remain paint-free.
There is a lot that is wrong with the internet (starting with the fact that those stupid cats who can't speak properly have such a popular website - Sarah, unsurprisingly, loves those cats). But I thought that there might be a limit to how low the internet could sink.
Turns out, I was wrong. There is no limit to the depravity of the internet. I give you Exhibit A:
Do not adjust your computer screen. This is a picture of me with fake boobs. I do not understand this at all!
Dog boobs? Really, Sarah? Also, why are these even for sale? There are so many steps of how this went wrong, I don't even know where to start.
Did I mention that these were custom made for me? This is so absolutely absurd.
I'm thinking that this may be the lowest the internet has ever sunk. Totally awful. Sarah, of course, loves them. I am so not surprised.
According to the internet (100% reliable, or so I have heard. And I would know - after all, I'm a dog with a blog), the modern bikini was invented in 1946. Somehow, I don't think this was how the bikini was intended to be worn.
No, this was not a bikini made for a dog. Unfortunately, I am all too familiar with the fact that there are, in fact, bikinis made for dogs.
There is NOTHING redeemable about this outfit. While I am all about the U.S.A., this sort of thing is wrong, and should not be allowed to happen. It is not patriotic, just humiliating. I don't care if it's Memorial Day this weekend, there are much better ways to observe the holiday than putting me in a bikini reminiscent of the U.S. flag. Might I suggest a good alternative way to celebrate this holiday would be to feed me something? As if that will happen with Sarah.
Even if you transported me to the beach (instead of the bedroom floor, which is where Sarah took this picture and which, I assure you, is not beach-like in the slightest), this would still be horrible. There is no redeeming this outfit. Or any outfit meant for a dog, for that matter.
Sarah, in addition to being a horrible person, has a streak of dorkiness a mile wide, as will be demonstrated in this post. This should be her theme song for this particular blog post.
Anyway, Sarah's horribleness is directly responsible for what I am wearing in this picture:
It's a Yoda costume. Or, as Sarah would probably want me to say, "Yoda costume it is." So unbelievably horrible. And dorky.
You see, today is May 4th, which means that people like Sarah who harbor love for Star Wars turn "May the force be with you" to "May the fourth be with you." I can't believe I have to live with someone who finds this amusing.
Adventure? Excitement? Choppy craves not these things. She only craves an owner who does not dress her up for holidays that don't actually exist.
Sarah has returned from Australia. Unfortunately, she returned bearing a gift for me. In the form of a kangaroo costume.
I feel as stupid as this looks. Seriously, what's up with the mittens?
I can't begin to tell you how much fun my time away from Sarah was. Three blissful weeks without clothing, or her pestering ways. And pretty much the first thing that happens when she gets home? She puts me in this outfit. So, so wrong.
This picture should be the sole result of a Google search for "Miserable Dog Dressed as Kangaroo." I can't believe Sarah wasted suitcase space to bring this back from Australia.
I meant to post this earlier, but things have been hectic around here - I have been trying to make sure Sarah doesn't forget any of my important toys for my vacation at the kennel, which is quite hard, as she seems intent on packing only ones that I don't really like (you see, Sarah doesn't want to take what she calls my "old and ratty" toys to the kennel, but they are "old and ratty" for a reason - I love them and therefore play with them).
Anyway, before all this packing got started, Sarah actually did something pretty cool (for her, at least) - she took me to Chicago! Now, I go there sometimes, because it's where my cousin Izzy lives. But she lives away from the downtown part of the city. This time, I actually went downtown with the skyscrapers! And, best of all, not a lick of clothing touched my body the whole time.
Unfortunately, first we had to get there.
Car seats are definitely not comfortable for dogs.
Once we got to Chicago, Sarah risked my life to attempt to get a picture of me with the Sears Tower WHILE WE WERE DRIVING, and she only succeeded in getting a little bit of it, which stinks, because if you're going to risk my life for a picture, you should at least get a good one.
That's the Sears Tower in the upper left hand part of the picture. I told you it was a bad picture.
Anyway, I insisted on sticking my head out the window as we drove through River North (which is a neighborhood), which led Sarah to call me a country bumpkin. For the record, many people we drove by thought it was cute and awesome. Obviously, because I was involved.
Eventually, we got to the apartment where we were staying, with friends of Sarah's from college. They live in an actual skyscraper, and I took my first elevator ride (OK, maybe that was a little country bumpkin like, as I am well over two now).
Here I am checking out the view toward the lake. Pretty good, but not as many squirrels as at home.
Sarah's friends had a dog named Henry. It's very sad, Henry has cancer. But he was still running around and playing.
This is Henry!
One of the best things we did was go for a long walk in the city. There were certainly many smells that I don't get at home.
Walking by the river. Note the distinct lack of grass. Where do people expect me to pee?
We also went to a dog park. Which, like the rest of everywhere, didn't have grass.
That's not grass, it's astroturf. Still, it worked for my body's peeing needs.
After we visited Henry and his family, we went to visit Izzy. That part was cool - I already put a picture of that up on Facebook, so I won't put up another one. Unfortunately, after all that fun, I had to go back to my normal, horrible life with Sarah. However, she leaves tomorrow, so vacation can get started for me!
Sarah enjoys sports. Not playing them (she's too uncoordinated to do anything requiring actual physical ability), just watching them. And, of course, using them to humiliate me. Today is Opening Day for baseball, which means Sarah broke out something for me to wear.
What? Did you expect me to look happy about this situation?
The worst part? Sarah didn't even purchase this. Nope, someone else bought it and gave it to her. So now I don't have to worry about just Sarah dressing me up, I have to worry about others helping her do it!
Because the hat wasn't bad enough as a hat alone, it also has to splay my ears out at a strange angle so I look like I could flap them and fly away.
This stinks. I just keep telling myself that Sarah is going on vacation next week, and I will get to live without her. Here's hoping her vacation will end my suffering, even temporarily.
Now, Sarah does love to humiliate me. I think if you're on my website, you're well aware of this by now. However, she seems to take even greater pleasure in humiliating me on certain days. St. Patrick's Day is one of those days. In case you don't remember, this is what she had me in last year. Not my finest hour.
Unfortunately, it was quite pleasant compared to what she had me in this year.
Like last year, there is the green-colored water that is supposed to be beer. And, like last year, I was given no alcohol to wash away the memories of this outfit.
Most of this outfit is actually a costume Sarah wore. Yes, she actually wore these items in public, for the world to see. This is horrifying. At least she didn't bring me with her.
I look drunk in this picture. I wasn't. I wish I had been.
I am pretty sure she can't outdo this year, next year. I'm sure she'll try, though.
So, next week is Mardi Gras. Sarah and her sister go down to New Orleans nearly every Mardi Gras, and they are going again this year. For those who don't know, Sarah came back from Mardi Gras after her 30th birthday and got me. So obviously, Mardi Gras is NOT my favorite holiday (though I do enjoy having a few days off from Sarah while she is on vacation).
Of course, I like it even less after what Sarah did to me this year for Mardi Gras.
Yes, it's a Mardi Gras-themed feather hat (and beads, of course). I don't know exactly where she gets these things, but I'm pretty sure I can blame the internet for this one.
I can't tell you how happy I am going to be to be rid of her for a few days.
Another view. Because one picture of this ensemble just wasn't humiliating enough.
So, today is Sarah's birthday. I did not escape unscathed.
There had better be a piece of cake in my future. And some ice cream as well.
Luckily, this is one of the few times that I can actually get some immediate revenge on Sarah (immediate revenge that does not involve my bodily fluids, at least). I would like to announce to the world that Sarah is 32 years old! Do not let her tell you she is 29! She's much older than that! She is 32!
Ah, that felt good. I can't wait for next year when she's even older. It's almost worth the strange party crown. Almost.
Yesterday, in a rare fit of treating me well, Sarah took me to the pet store and bought me not only a bag of treats, but a new toy as well (which, now that I remember, I still haven't properly destroyed - I guess I have a plan for the day!). Unfortunately, with Sarah, no trip to the pet store is complete without the purchase of something humiliating for me. Yesterday, it was a raincoat. Now, I figured I had at least a couple weeks before it rained here and I was forced to endure this latest humiliation.
I was wrong. This morning, it rained.
The fact that the coat is not pink is only a small consolation to me.
Having purchased the coat only yesterday, it goes without saying that Sarah heard the pitter patter of rain on the roof this morning and leaped out of bed, giddy as a kid on the first day of summer, in anticipation of my impending torture.
Next time, I vote that we skip the walk in the rain entirely. I have a backyard; I can take care of business there.
I guess there is a little comfort to be had in the fact that no one else was out walking their dogs in the rain this morning, so (as far as I know) none of the other dogs in the neighborhood saw me in this get up. Unfortunately, I may not be as lucky next time. Because you know there will be a next time with this.
As you are probably aware, Sarah is perpetually single. While most women who are within two weeks of their 32nd birthdays would find this a state of affairs to be remedied as quickly as possible, Sarah seems entirely content to be single. Probably because it means she can devote 100% of her energy to tormenting me.
Anyway, while many a single almost 32-year old would be lamenting yet another year of Valentine's Day without a mans to buy her roses or chocolates, Sarah takes joy in having another excuse to dress me up.
The proper sentiment in my world is Licks and Butt Sniffs.
There is a LOT of pink in that picture. Also, lest you see the toy and think that Sarah is secretly hiding a boyfriend who bought it for her from me, I feel the need to point out that the stuffed animal in this picture belongs to her sister. Which also means that, instead of getting to chew it up, Sarah took this picture and immediately hid the panda from me. SO MEAN. But so par for the course.
So, as you may know, Sarah and I have been on the road a LOT lately, both because of Sarah's work and because of her non-work life. This last weekend, I visited a new state (Ohio) so that Sarah could attend a bachelorette party for one of her friends from law school (yes, Sarah is a lawyer. And you thought she was a bad person even before I told you that!). Now, I was just supposed to hang out while Sarah went to this party, but we had to drive many hours to get there, and it snowed almost the entire way, so we were quite late. So, instead of getting a nap like I had expected, I went to the party. It was NOT my idea of fun, but then, hanging out with Sarah is never my idea of fun, so this shouldn't surprise you.
But do you know what was even less my idea of fun? Having Sarah dress me up in a veil when we got back to Indiana.
The fake pearl necklaces were not my idea, either.
I really did not need this. It's freezing cold here, I've been dragged all over the midwest this last week, and the last thing I want is to have to deal with Sarah's desire to dress me up. Hopefully, things will get better soon. It's at least supposed to be warmer this weekend, giving me the chance to play in some mud and mess up the house.
It has been VERY cold here in Indiana recently. Now, I've got a fur coat, so I don't mind a little cold every now and then, but it has gotten absurd. There should not be minus signs in front of the temperature, ever! And, as it's Fahrenheit, you know it's cold when there is a minus sign!
You'd think that, because it's so darn cold here, that Sarah would be happy to sit under the blankets in bed, or wrapped up in a Snuggie on the couch. But no, of course she isn't. Nope, she had to find something to dress me up in, as if the fur coat is not enough in her mind.
She has put me in the scarf before, but the hat is new. Frankly, I would prefer not having to deal with either.
Now, I usually enjoy going to Wisconsin, but it is MUCH colder there than where I live. So I would be perfectly happy to chill here in Terre Haute. However, Sarah is never content to leave well enough alone, so of course she is planning to take me to Wisconsin next week. I wish she would make plans to take me somewhere warm instead. I'm sure my grandparents would understand.
Sarah has truly outdone herself. As you may know, last Friday was Dress Up Your Pet Day (whoever invented that is a cruel, cruel, person. Unless, of course, they intended the day to apply to cats only. In which case, this person is a national hero). Lucky for me, Sarah was in Wisconsin, so I avoided it. Or, at least, I thought that I had avoided it.
Turns out, I was wrong. Sarah decided to make up for missing the day this morning.
Yes, Sarah dressed me, a dog, in a dog mask. It makes no sense. I really should stop even trying to make sense out of what she does.
Sarah seems to have interpreted "Dress Up Your Pet Day" as "Dress Your Pet Up as a Pet Day," because I cannot fathom any other possible explanation for why she would want a dog to wear a dog mask. I guess I should be thankful that she didn't find a cat mask for me. Although it would have made more sense, it would have been that much more humiliating.
So, my cousin Izzy hurt her paw over the weekend (she cut her pad), so today she had to go to the vet to get it checked out. I hope she gets well soon, both because she's my awesome cousin, and because this is what happens to me when she hurts her paw:
Do you see that bandage on my leg? I'm not even hurt. I feel this is an insult to dogs who actually are hurt. And I know for a fact that's not even the leg that Izzy hurt.
Seriously, Sarah, do you somehow think this will make Izzy feel better? I mean, yes, she might laugh her butt off when she sees this picture of me, but it's definitely not going to actually heal her.
A close-up view. As you can see, I better not get hurt, because Sarah sucks at putting on bandages.
Anyway, Izzy, get well soon, if only because I have a sneaking suspicion Sarah might buy me an Elizabethan collar. You know, "just for fun."
So, yesterday, Sarah went out and got a haircut. Needless to say, it has not improved her appearance in the slightest, nor will it help her attract a guy so that she can torture someone other than me for a change. Unfortunately, this trip to the salon inspired Sarah to dress me in spa attire.
It's Sarah's robe and therefore doesn't fit. At all. However, it does make me look less fat than the too-tight shirts, so there's that.
Of course, dressing me up in spa attire did not result in any spa treatments for me, like a nice massage. Nope, I just got the same old crap from Sarah as everyday.
I like to believe that by wearing this mask over my eyes, I can hide from future humiliation.
I guess I should be thankful that her haircut didn't inspire her to get me a haircut, because I know that would turn out poorly. Still, I wish she would do something for once that didn't end in humiliation for me.
So, when I woke up Christmas morning, there was a bit of panic on my part. You see, all of the stockings had been taken down and filled with goodies, EXCEPT MINE! This was cause for panic.
You can tell Santa has been to my grandparents' house by the nearly empty glass of milk and the partially eaten cookies. And yet, there my stocking is, all alone and unfilled. Horrible!
Christmas was turning out terrible. But then, things started looking up. You see, it turns out that even though there was nothing in my stocking, there were gifts for me! Here's my first (yup, first!) bag of them.
After the whole stocking debacle, you would be sticking your head in the bag like this, too.
Santa did come for me! I should never have doubted the cuteness to attract him my way. And, unlike Sarah would have done, Santa brought me ZERO items of clothing. Santa rocks!
There were three big bags of stuff for me. Unfortunately, he failed to bring me the number one item on my list: a new owner. Well, there's always next year.