Choppy's Dog House

Where Are the Posts?

2011-08-31T10:47:00.000-04:00

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.

Cat Food

2011-07-07T10:04:00.000-04:00

I could so go for some cat food. Stupid cat won't let me eat, though!

Garden Dog

2011-07-06T09:12:00.000-04:00

In my Grandpa's garden. I don't want to eat any of these things. Now, if he were to start raising pigs...

I Could Use Some Independence - Part Two (Actual 4th of July Version)

2011-07-04T10:31:00.000-04:00

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!

I Could Use Some Independence

2011-06-29T08:30:00.003-04:00

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.

Happy Father's Day!

2011-06-19T18:31:00.000-04:00

I usually don't post on Sundays, but I thought I would take this chance to wish everyone (but especially my grandpa) a Happy Father's Day!

A heartfelt sentiment from yours truly on Father's Day.

As I never knew my biological dad (he took off before I was born - and no one can even tell me what breed he was, let alone who he was), I'm glad I have someone I can wish a happy day to!

Internet Depravity = Fake Dog Boobs

2011-06-01T08:30:00.005-04:00

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.

Bikini Weather Has (Unfortunately) Arrived!

2011-05-24T08:32:00.000-04:00

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.

May the Fourth Be With You - Or Not

2011-05-04T07:55:00.000-04:00

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.

I Do Not Feel Like Hopping

2011-04-28T09:18:00.000-04:00

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 Am Not a Bunny

2011-04-21T21:28:00.001-04:00

Sarah isn't even back from vacation yet, but that didn't stop her from taking some pics of me before we left dressed up for Easter. They are humiliating, and I suggest averting your eyes.

Just FYI, that thing around my neck? It's a wreath. Who puts a wreath on a dog?

Anyway, Sarah gets back Monday, so I need to get back to enjoying the last couple days of my blissful vacation away from Sarah. Days without clothing, in other words.

Here you go. A close up of my humiliation.

Anyway, happy Easter. I'm going to hope to find a real bunny to chase after.

Chicago Dog

2011-04-05T22:51:00.000-04:00

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!

Baseball Is Not My Sport

2011-03-31T10:14:00.000-04:00

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.

Spring Stinks

2011-03-21T09:38:00.000-04:00

So, spring has begun. In a move that will surprise absolutely no one, Sarah marked the occasion by dressing me up.

I am not a flower. Nor do I want to pretend to be a flower.

I don't know what is wrong with a person that makes her think "Hey, it's spring now. You know what? I should make my dog wear a flower headband!" My best guess is that a lot is wrong with her.

Sarah added to my humiliation by making me pose with an old stuffed rabbit. Not that you can tell what it is from this picture.

One of the few toys Sarah has bought me which I have not yet destroyed. After this picture, I may need to get on that.

Sarah's vacation (a.k.a., the three best weeks of my life) cannot get here soon enough.

St. Patrick's Day = Horrible

2011-03-17T08:30:00.001-04:00

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.

Take These Beads, Please

2011-03-02T09:57:00.000-05:00

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.

Unhappy Birthday, Sarah

2011-02-25T07:30:00.000-05:00

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.

Rain Rain Go Away (And Take My Raincoat With You)

2011-02-21T09:28:00.000-05:00

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.

I Do Not Heart Sarah

2011-02-14T09:41:00.000-05:00

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.

Bachelorette Blues

2011-02-09T15:34:00.000-05:00

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.

You may now kiss my butt, Sarah.

Cold, Cold, Cold!

2011-01-25T14:02:00.000-05:00

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.

Dog As Dog

2011-01-17T11:41:00.000-05:00

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.

This Is a Test

2011-01-10T12:45:00.000-05:00

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."

Spa Day

2011-01-06T12:37:00.000-05:00

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.

Christmas, Part 3 (The End)

2011-01-03T09:37:00.000-05:00

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.

Christmas, Part 2

2010-12-29T10:37:00.000-05:00

So, while Christmas started off pretty badly, it promptly got worse. First, we have a little snow in Indiana. Enough so that it looks like Christmas, but not so much that it inhibits my ability to walk around and take care of my bodily functions. It's pretty much the perfect amount of snow. Wisconsin? Not so much.

This definitely qualifies as too much snow. WAY too much snow. And I'm supposed to squat and poop in this. Needless to say, it typically does not go well. Perhaps I should learn to use the litter box. Or not.

Second, Sarah FINALLY got me a stocking. This should be something fun and exciting. However, we're talking about something Sarah purchased here. And she didn't get me something nice and pretty and appropriate. Instead, she got me a horrible stocking, that I do not like at all.

Yes, it's pink. Yes, it suggests that I am naughty. No, I do not approve. At all.

This whole thing was made even worse because, just before Christmas, I broke a window. Now, this really shouldn't be considered my fault. After all, there was a squirrel sitting just outside the window on a fence, and it was taunting me. And really, the window should have been able to hold my weight, because, seriously, 65(-ish) pounds is not that much. But, I did pound on the window as I barked at the squirrel and break it, so I guess I could see how some people (namely, Santa and Sarah) would think that I had been naughty and decide not to bring my presents. So, having a stocking that suggests I am naughty makes me a little worried.

Is this the face of a naughty dog? I think not.

It turns out, come Christmas morning, my fears of being on the naughty list were seemingly coming true...

Christmas, Part 1

2010-12-27T16:33:00.000-05:00

OK, so rather than tell you all about my Christmas in one long post, I am going to break it up into several (in theory, this is to highlight specific aspects of my Christmas, but in reality, I'm just a lazy dog at heart and this is easier than sitting down and writing one long post).

Things started out rather badly for me, I have to say. First, my cousin Izzy did not come to Wisconsin for Christmas. My Aunt and Uncle went to California to see her family, so no Izzy for me to play with here in Wisconsin. More importantly, even though we had a relatively uneventful trip from Indiana to Wisconsin (always a question of whether our trip will be scary - Sarah is a HORRIBLE driver), almost the moment we woke up the next morning, Sarah had me wearing yet another Christmas shirt.

"Meet me under the Mistletoe." There are no boy dogs at my grandparents' house, only boy cats (and humans). I am NOT kissing one of the cats. So this shirt is not only stupid, it's an inaccurate statement on my feelings about mistletoe.

As you can see, this shirt is FAR too small for me (yes, if you must ask, I have been hitting the treats a little hard this Christmas season. But with Sarah, you eat treats when you get a chance. Who knows when the next treats might be coming). And so, unsurprisingly, my trip to Wisconsin started off quite poorly...

More Supposed Christmas Merriment

2010-12-22T10:18:00.000-05:00

And so, another day, another Christmas outfit. This one doesn't even fit properly.

Yes, it's a sparkly Santa coat. It was the largest one the store had, and it still doesn't fit. Of course, that didn't stop Sarah from buying it and making me wear it.

On the plus side, as it doesn't fit properly, I bet this means I won't have to wear it out at my grandparents' house (where I am headed later today). So there's that. However, I cannot wait for Christmas to be over (even if that does mean I have to worry about Sarah putting a diaper on me for New Year's - I shiver at the thought of that. Though I could probably get on board with not having to go outside to use the bathroom when it cold).

Does This Sweater Make My Butt Look Big?

2010-12-21T10:17:00.000-05:00

OK, I will give Sarah this. In terms of sheer humiliation, this sweater is much better than the ridiculous reindeer outfit she had me in yesterday. However, that being said, it's still not good.

It's not pink. So there's that as well. However, I think it's a little too manly. People already think I'm a boy. I don't need to encourage that.And I'm not sure if it's the angle or what, but my butt looks rather large in this picture.

Unfortunately for me, unlike the reindeer outfit, which I only had to wear for a few minutes, Sarah keeps putting the sweater on me and making me wear it around the house. I'm unsure of the purpose of this, as it is like a sauna in here already in here (someone seems to think that if she keeps the house nice and hot, it will somehow translate to the sudden appearance of palm trees in Indiana. It seems to me that Sarah may be delusional, in addition to all of her other problems). I cannot wait to get out of here for Christmas and on the road to Wisconsin. Hopefully I can sneak out of my grandparents' house and ditch all this clothing.

Not a Happy Reindeer Dog

2010-12-20T08:30:00.013-05:00

You know, Halloween should only come once a year. Unfortunately for me, Sarah seems to think I need costumes throughout the year.

You think this is bad? It gets worse. The nose lights up.

All I want for Christmas? A day without humiliation.

Jingle Bells, Choppy Style

2010-12-13T17:36:00.000-05:00

Today's blog post is in the form of three versions of the chorus of "Jingle Bells." If you want to listen to a version of the song while you read this post, I suggest this one. If you like torturing yourself, I suggest this one.

Jingle bells, Sarah smells, not in a good way

Not so fun, when I can't hide, 'cause of this array

Jingle bells, I can tell, Sarah hates me - hey

Nice humans, please take my side, take this hat away

Jingle bells, jingle bells, poor Iz and Chop-pay

Not so fun, it hurts our pride, when Sarah has her way

'Tis the Season for Humiliation

2010-12-07T10:17:00.004-05:00

You know, for some, the holidays are a special time, where you get to see family and friends, and enjoy good times with those you love.

For me, the holidays are just an excuse for Sarah to humiliate me on a daily basis. This morning, she broke out a new t-shirt.

The shirt says: "Naughty - It's the new nice." I have no idea where Sarah comes up with these shirts. But wherever it is needs to get out of the dog clothing business.

"Naughty - It's the new nice." Seriously? I need there to be a naughty list. I figure that the more people on the naughty list, the more things that there will be for me (who, obviously, is on the nice list). I have been super good all year long. I only got a few things off of the counter, and seriously, there is no reason for me not to get on the good couch, despite Sarah's desires to the contrary. And I have done numerous good deeds this year, particularly with regard to the chasing of nasty squirrels in my backyard.

So, looking at this picture, it appears that I maybe need to lay off the Christmas treats a little bit. Or, Sarah could just start buying me a larger size (I prefer the latter option. I need my treats! And besides, it's not like anyone looks at the sizes on dog clothing...I hope).

Anyway, I am sure this is not the end of the humiliation this Christmas, as there have already been documented incidents involving a Christmas sweater on my Facebook page, as well as here on Choppy's Dog House. There is also an undocumented incident involving bells and my cousin Izzy (I hope those pictures never see the light of day...). I can't wait for the Christmas season to be over.

Contest!

2010-12-01T11:50:00.000-05:00

Woo hoo! A contest! Everyone loves contests! Especially easy ones. And trust me, this one is super easy.

A while back, I got this awesome book (for free!) called Pukka: The Pup After Merle. Now, I love getting free stuff, because (a) Sarah doesn't get to complain that if I want more stuff, I should get a job and work for it, and (b) free = awesome in general. Sarah, being the jerk that she is, didn't get around to reading the book until this last weekend.

I look much smarter when I have a book in front of me. I should encourage Sarah to take more of these pictures, and fewer of the kind where I am wearing clothes. Also, I think the placement of the book hides some of my girth. Never a bad thing.

Now, the author of this book (Ted Kerasote) also wrote a book called Merle's Door: Lessons from a Freethinking Dog, which Sarah has also read, and she cried A LOT when she read that. I'm sure it had something to do with how much she hates me and would rather have another dog. However, I tend to avoid her when she cries, lest she grab me and try to use my fur as a tissue, so I have no actual idea why she was crying.

Anyway, Merle's Door was a real book, with far-too-few pictures for my taste (Sarah thoroughly enjoyed it though. Typical). However, this Pukka: The Pup After Merle book is almost all pictures, which is awesome. I am sure it would also make a great Christmas present for someone who likes dogs (so, don't buy it for Sarah).

But, the best thing is, one of you is going to get a copy of Pukka without having to buy it! All you have to do is leave a comment on this post or on my Facebook page (it can be any sort of comment), and next Monday, I will randomly pick a winner, and send them the book! Super easy!

Good luck!

See Ya Later, Gator

2010-11-26T09:00:00.001-05:00

So, my Grandpa got himself a new (and awesome) toy last week: a Gator ATV! I, of course, have joined him in the ATV as much as possible since arriving in Wisconsin.

Looking good, if I do say so myself. I could do without the blaze orange vest.

Sometimes, I ride in the back. Usually, Sarah shuts that tailgate, but I kind of like having it down. Makes it feel more dangerous. And you know me, Danger is my middle name (unless said danger involves going out in the dark. Or rain. Or woods).

And now, things are right in the world. I finally am in the driver's seat. And I got out of my blaze orange vest. Score!

Sadly, I will soon be going home to Indiana, where there is no fun ATV. And I am stuck with Sarah.

Blaze Orange Is So Not My Color

2010-11-22T16:44:00.000-05:00

So, Sarah and I are back in Wisconsin again. Super cool (well, the part about being in Wisconsin. The part where Sarah is here, not so much). I am especially happy that part of the reason we are back is Thanksgiving. Really, any holiday dedicated to eating is the kind of holiday that I can get behind (though it could use more bacon. And fewer vegetables). Plus, I'm pretty sure my cousin Izzy is coming up, too, and I have lots of bad habits to teach her over the long weekend. I'm pretty excited about that.

Unfortunately for yours truly, it is hunting season in Wisconsin. My grandparents live out in the country, and there are lots of people out hunting right now. Now, last year, I was in Wisconsin for Thanksgiving, and Sarah let me do whatever I wanted outside, no problem. Somehow, however, in those intervening twelve months, something happened. Now, she's all worried I am going to go into the woods and get shot (I know - I'm as shocked that she worries about me as you are), so she had my Grandpa go out and buy me a hunting vest.

It's not pink, I will grant you that. However, still not my best color.

Now, first of all, I'm not very happy at all that my grandpa agreed to go out and but me clothes (although, come to think of it, perhaps Sarah isn't the one who cares about my safety, but Grandpa and Grandma...I will have to consider this. On initial thought, it makes a lot of sense). However, I am going to say that, as far as my clothes go, this is about the best of the lot. After all, it's to keep me from getting shot. And I would rather not get shot. That said, though, I have to say that I'm a dog, not a crossing guard. And based on this outfit, I'm not sure how one tells the difference.

Anyway, I should probably get back to my adventures here. My grandpa got a new Gator ATV thing that is AWESOME. I have been riding all over in it, and even though I have to wear the vest in it (like a tool), I still look pretty darn good riding in the thing. I will have pics for your later this week.

Ho, ho, ho! Merry - Wait a Minute...

2010-11-11T15:13:00.005-05:00

I have to say, I love Christmas. Trip to my grandparents' house, lots of food, presents - it's pretty awesome. Unfortunately, I also have to deal with Sarah's crap. Last year, it involved a reindeer costume. With a light up nose. Needless to say, that part of Christmas is horrible. And I really don't want to remind Sarah about that outfit, because she didn't take many pictures of me in it. I would rather that such pictures never find their way out of her possession.

Unfortunately for me, Sarah decided that she would get in the Christmas spirit extra early this year, so she purchased me a Christmas dress.

This picture does not do justice to the sheer amount of sparkle this dress involves. That's not supposed to be a compliment. This isn't Toddlers & Tiaras, people.

Really, Sarah? A Christmas dress? Do you think I need a dress? It's not like I'm even allowed to go to church, and that's the only place I could think I would be wearing this. Note: This complaint is in addition to the general complaint that dogs don't need clothes.

Anyway, having put me in the Christmas dress, Sarah would not leave the whole Christmas thing alone. So, off she went to fetch something else.

A Santa hat. I should have guessed this one was coming.

Anyway, as Christmas approaches, I'm pretty sure that things are only going to get worse. I'll keep you posted.

Bah Humbug.

A Halloween Horror Show

2010-10-29T16:21:00.006-04:00

Warning: This post contains horrific images of a dog forced to dress up for Halloween (especially the last two pictures). For your own good, I suggest you find another website to look at.

Well, now that you have been warned, it's time to get to the substance of this post: namely, the horror that Sarah has forced me to endure for my second Halloween on this earth. Not one, not two, but THREE new costumes (plus this shark one from a couple months ago). Seriously, Sarah, there are children in the world who don't have this many costumes over the course of their entire childhoods.

First up, a football costume.

A football, in costume form. Because Sarah was evidently not content with my multiple football-related clothing items.

Next, Sarah broke out the headless horseman:

It's the headless horseman. Actually, it should probably be renamed the headless dogman, as I am not a horse.

But, Sarah saved something horrible - just horrible - for my final outfit. Now, I had thought that the worse costume she could possibly put me in was a cat costume. That would have been humiliating. I should have known Sarah was more dastardly than that.

Turns out, there are squirrel costumes available.

There is nothing good about this costume.

This is not the face of a happy dog.

I hate squirrels. But not as much as I hate squirrel costumes. Or Sarah.

This Butt's For You

2010-10-28T11:08:00.005-04:00

Now, with Halloween coming up this weekend, I expect Sarah will come up with at least one (probably more) costumes for me. At this point, I have sort of resigned myself to the fact that I cannot get out of this humiliation, and should just get through it as quickly as possible.

What I didn't expect was that she would find a non-costume way to humiliate me this week.

Now, I was a little suspicious this morning when Sarah started taking pictures of me from behind.

Not my best angle.

However, I didn't at all expect what was coming next.

Yes, it's a flower. Yes, it is to hide my butt hole.

The flower thing on my butt? It's called "Rear Gear." The website calls them "butt covers." I call them unnecessary. Entirely unnecessary. And yet another in a long line of reasons Sarah should not be allowed on the internet.

A close-up, courtesy Sarah's camera. I'm sorry you had to see this. But not as sorry as I am that I had to endure it.

Sarah Went to Disneyland...

2010-10-11T10:17:00.003-04:00

So, Sarah went out to California for work last week. This was pretty cool, as I got to go to my kennel/doggy day care while she was away (it's pretty much dog heaven over there - "pretty much" because they have horses that I would like to chase (or at least sniff), but I'm not allowed. Everything else is fair game, though, including like 20 cats. Awesome!). Unfortunately, all good things must end, and Sarah got back yesterday.

Now, Sarah was pretty cool and brought me back a present! At least, I thought it would be pretty cool. I mean, I could think of at least 100 things I would like that involve the word "bacon" alone! But, this being Sarah, there was no bacon involved.

Yes. It's Mickey Mouse ears.

Instead of food, or even a toy (or heck, even nothing!), Sarah brought me back Mickey Mouse ears. Now, wearing a hat like this is already a humiliating experience. We've been over this one before. Dogs don't need clothing, and that includes hats.

Yes, she even paid extra to have my name embroidered on the back. You people think I exaggerate the humility I must endure on a daily basis? Look no further for proof that, if anything, I down play it.

But the mouse ears add a level of humiliation that is just wrong. You know what chases mice? Cats. In my world, cats are meant to be chased. These mouse ears create some sort of strange world where, instead of me chasing cats, the cats might chase me. The mere idea of this will probably give me horrible nightmares.

Yeah, the look on my face here pretty much says it all.

Unfortunately, this means that I can no longer fully enjoy times when Sarah is out-of-town. Who knows what she will come up with to bring home next time she is away.

Socks? I Don't Need No Stinkin' Socks

2010-10-01T14:08:00.002-04:00

Sarah should really not be allowed to go to the store without me. I mean, I am a great shopping companion. I head straight for important things (dog toys and treats), and ignore things that we don't need around the house (yet more clothing for me). Unfortunately, I'm not allowed in certain stores. And so, Sarah goes to these stores, and comes home with things that we definitely don't need (like dog clothes).

A great example of this occurred a couple days ago.

Socks? Really? What about it being nice, pleasant fall weather suggested I needed socks?

Sarah came home with socks for me. Now, if I was a sled dog, little booties would be important, so I didn't hurt my feet. But you know what I do with my life? Stare at Sarah and hope that she leaves for a few minutes so I can get some peace/sleep on the good couch (of course, I hope she goes somewhere with no clothing that might fit me when she leaves the house). Plus, the house is mostly carpeted, so it's like I already have socks on wherever I go. The last thing I need is socks.

Unfortunately, this being Sarah, she didn't stop at the socks.

A hat? Really? What about it being nice, pleasant fall weather suggested I needed...oh, wait, we just went through this with the socks.

I have no idea what has possessed Sarah to be on a hat kick lately, but seriously, it needs to stop. Soon.

Good News & Bad News

2010-09-22T12:30:00.001-04:00

So, sometimes life throws me a bone. A few weeks ago, I got thrown a BIG one. You see, Sarah quit her job to go work for her dad - a.k.a., my grandpa! I cannot tell you how stoked I was about this, because my grandparents are up in Wisconsin, which is a place that I love. I immediately began thinking about all of the fun things I was going to do when we moved up there (OK, mostly I was thinking about how I could run away from Sarah all the time and sneak over to my grandparents' house).

But then, Sarah destroyed all of these dreams. You see, instead of moving to Wisconsin, we're staying here in Indiana. I like Indiana just fine, but it's a long way from my grandparents.

However, the worst part of this? Now Sarah is working from home, which means I NEVER get any time away from her. All day long, she is here, hogging the computer, and just generally making me mad with her very presence.

Sarah put me in her new printer's box. Your guess as to the reason why is as good as mine.

Even worse, she can hear every time I get on the good couch or look on the counters, and she yells at me. So not only am I stuck with her, I have to follow all of her rules, all day long. It sucks. Big time.

About the only good thing about this is that I can now go outside during the day as much as I want. The other day, I spent like two hours out in the backyard, just pretending I was on vacation and far, far away from Sarah. That was great. At least, it was great until Sarah interrupted my blissful imaginings. Typical.

Anyway, I have to figure out a way to get her out of the house more often. So far, I've got nothing.

Helpin' a Doggie Out

2010-09-16T10:34:00.009-04:00

So, as you probably know by now, I am not a fancy-schmancy purebred dog. Nope, I'm a pound puppy. Straight outta the Terre Haute Humane Society. As such, I'm pretty keen on the whole idea of getting a dog from the shelter. I mean, seriously, I could be dead right now if Sarah hadn't picked out my cute little butt and taken me home (and as much as I hate Sarah, I would rather put up with her crap forever than be dead. Of course, what I really would have liked is to have been adopted by someone who doesn't make it her life's work to humiliate me).

This picture has nothing to do with this post. However, who wouldn't love a face like mine? Even when it's half covered by shades and a scarf.

Now, I pretty rarely do something like promote stuff, but I figured I would today, because all I have to do is write a blog post, and Pedigree will donate a bag of dog food to a shelter! Now, as a dog who both (a) has a blog, and (b) came from a shelter, that seems like a pretty good deal. Heck, if Sarah is going to humiliate me, I might as well help out a dog at the pound who still has a chance to go somewhere better than I ended up, where clothing is something only humans wear.

So, to whatever dog eats the bag of food that got donated because of Yours Truly, good luck finding a better home than I did.

Tailgating and Me: Not a Love Story

2010-09-15T08:00:00.001-04:00

So, a couple weeks ago, Sarah took me tailgating. While I was initially a bit apprehensive about this (despite the presence of "tail" in the name of the activity), I was assured that there would be food and fun while tailgating. Turns out, even though I got plenty of food while tailgating, I was not a fan.

First, there was not a lot of privacy to do my business. Now, I may be a dog, but I normally have a nice, fenced-in backyard where I can do my thing without other dogs or people watching. But while tailgating, I was not so lucky. I had a little performance anxiety about my peeing, so Sarah eventually had to walk me like a mile so I would go. While I enjoyed the walk, I would rather just be able to go whenever and wherever I please.

Second, there were a LOT of people. While this is usually OK, most of them were drunk. And not the good kind of drunk where they surreptitiously sneak me tasty treats, but the kind where they demand my affection. Seriously, not cool. I give my love only to those who deserve it. Not to Sarah's drunk friends who fail to properly reward my love (with treats, obviously).

Third, of course Sarah dressed me up:

Do I look miserable? Because I was.

Fourth, of course Sarah would not be content dressing me up in one outfit, so I had to wear a second outfit.

No, I don't want to bring you a beer. My owner is just a tool and makes me wear a beer-fetching outfit that she saw on a beer commercial.

Anyway, Sarah did not take me with her this last weekend when she went up there, but rumor has it I may be going back in a month or so. I hope not. However, I will make plans to get out of it, just in case this rumor is true. I see bad behavior in my future...

Sarah Goes to Vegas = Humiliation for Me

2010-08-27T12:45:00.002-04:00

So, Sarah is heading to Las Vegas on Friday. As someone who wears a fur coat 365 days a year, I'm pretty cool with having to stay at home (this is in addition to the obvious reason I am happy to stay home - Sarah won't be here).

Unfortunately, Sarah decided I should wear some Las Vegas themed hats in honor of her trip. Well, they really aren't "Las Vegas themed" so much as "Sarah has come up with the flimsiest of flimsy reasons they are related to Vegas in order to subject me to great humiliation."

Obviously, not cool. You can judge for yourself:

This? I think this is Sarah's idea of something Snoop Dogg, the rapper formerly known as Snoop Doggy Dog, would wear. While I applaud the man's choice in names, I do not applaud Sarah's decision to allow him to influence her in dressing me up. Oh, and if you're asking how come Sarah thinks of Las Vegas and Snoop Dogg together, let me quote you the song 2 of Americaz Most Wanted: "My dream is to own a fly casino - like Bugsy Siegel - but do it all legal." Do you know how I know these lyrics? Because Sarah sang them to me the whole time I was dressed up in this hat. She has a terrible voice. I cannot stress how unpleasant this whole experience was for me.

I call this the prostitute hat. Now, because Sarah watches COPS on a far-too-regular basis, I am well aware that your typical prostitute, even in Las Vegas, wears pretty regular clothing. However, this is more along the lines of Hollywood's idea of a prostitute. On a related note, Sarah has actually worn this hat in public. And sometimes you people wonder why I question her sanity...

My grandpa brought this hat home from Oktoberfest for Sarah, long before I was born. I'm sure he never intended for her to use it in such a cruel and humiliating manner. I initially wondered what slim link there could be between Las Vegas and Munich, but then I remembered that alcohol is free if you're gambling, and thus the connection with the beer halls of Munich became clear. What scares me about this is that I can understand Sarah so easily. I really hope I'm not getting to be more like her.

Halloween Isn't For Two Months

2010-08-21T13:33:00.005-04:00

So, Sarah, being a jerk, went to the pet store this morning without me. I love the pet store - I get treats from the employees, get to see other dogs, and even when I have to get my nails clipped there, it's still pretty cool.

Unfortunately for me, the pet store already had its Halloween costume selection out. Yes, over two months before Halloween. And, because Sarah didn't take me there this morning, I didn't even have a chance to prevent her from purchasing an outfit for me.

Here's what she came home with:

A shark? Really? I don't even like to swim. And it's not even a great white, it's some random blue shark. And no, I'm not grateful it's not pink. It's still a costume.

Now, I am almost positive this isn't the only costume I will be forced to endure before Halloween. I mean, I've already discussed my pumpkin and chicken costumes that Sarah got last year, and which I am sure she will break out at some point. There are still months for Sarah to come up with more humiliating costumes.

This is so wrong.

Tweet This, Sarah

2010-08-14T11:14:00.006-04:00

So, the other night Sarah got a package. I could tell right away that it was something for me, because (a) It was pink, and (b) Sarah kept telling me I was really going to get excited about this. I could tell it wasn't clothes, but I had no idea what it was.

Turns out, it might be worse than clothes.

You see, a few months ago, Sarah discovered this contraption online that hooks to a dog collar, sort of like my camera. Except, instead of a camera, it's some sort of contraption that sends messages to the computer, which then puts them on Twitter. It's called Puppy Tweets. I have a picture:

Pink. And stupid. Sarah loves it.

Now, this would be all fine and dandy if the tweets were things that I'm actually doing or saying. But they're not, they're just random crap that has nothing to do with what I am actually thinking. And they're stupid to boot! For example, here are some of the things it has said today:

Puppy Tweets rules! Finally I can express my thoughts and feelings to the world! One question: does it matter if I get slobber on it?

In typical fashion, the cat down the street is registered as an Independent. They can't ever commit to anything.

L'il help! Nose stuck in bird feeder!

Obviously, this is not cool. Sarah, of course, thinks it is awesome, and has hooked it up to her Twitter account. You can go there and see more stupid things this contraption attributes to me, but I recommend against it.

Also, a note to all inventors out there: Please stop inventing stupid things for dogs. Sarah buys them, when she could be buying me treats or something I actually want. Thanks.

Dogs Don't Need Life Jackets

2010-08-09T13:45:00.005-04:00

So, Sarah and I were once again in Wisconsin this weekend. The reason? Sarah's friend was having a bachelorette party. Now, as part of this party, Sarah was going on a boat. Of course, Sarah decided this was a good reason to dress me up in a boating outfit, even though I was not invited on the boat, and have never even been on boat in my life.

The least Sarah could have done was put me in a life jacket made in the last twenty years. This is less "cool and retro" than "I'm pretty sure this is so old that it has lost its floating ability and would NOT save me in the event that I fell in the lake and was drowning."

Now, here's my major complaint about this. I'm a dog. I can swim just fine without flotation devices. We've already discussed this, but Sarah seems unable to get it through her thick skull, even though she has seen me swim before, and even though I have no intention of swimming ever again (not a big fan). I guess I should just be grateful that this isn't pink, but still. Not happy about this life jacket thing.

There Is No Point to This Outfit

2010-08-03T22:04:00.004-04:00

You know, I remember a time when Sarah required some excuse to dress me up. That time is no longer. You see, today, she went to the store to get some food, and instead of coming home with some hot dogs or other dog treats for me, this is what I got:

The hat really seals the deal on this being a stupid thing to do to a dog.

Really Sarah? Is this what you thought I wanted from the store? You know, for the $8.50 this outfit cost, I could have been knee deep in hot dogs or milk bones.

And don't think I didn't see that the tank top was part of a two-pack...I'm sure that will be broken out soon as well. Unless, of course, I manage to get to it first.

The Project Runway Premiere SHOULD Be a Happy Occasion

2010-07-29T10:58:00.007-04:00

So, I have previously detailed how much I LOVE Thursday nights, because it is Project Runway night, and Sarah's friends come over to our house and watch it. This means I get a blissful evening of attention and love (and, often, some good food placed on coffee table/dog level, convenient for sneaking it when no one is looking).

You can imagine how much I have been looking forward to tonight, then - not only is it the Project Runway premiere, but now it's an hour and a half long, which means an extra half hour with cool people around! I should seriously write a thank you note to Heidi and company about this awesome turn of events in my life.

However, I should have suspected that Sarah would somehow undermine my happiness.

You see, a couple weeks ago, we had a bad storm, and it zapped the television (which was plugged into a surge protector, but still got zapped). For the last couple weeks, Sarah has just been going around without television, which is fine with me, as it means I am not subjected to her horrible taste in television (I swear, if I have to watch one more episode of Cheaters...). So yesterday, she finally went out and got a new television, because she loves Project Runway almost as much as me. Almost.

This is me in a parrot hat in front of the broken television. I have no idea what the hat is for. Top American designer Michael Kors probably thinks it's a big vulgar and/or like Carmen Miranda on acid.

Unfortunately, when she went to plug it in, Sarah realized that the DirecTV box had been zapped as well. So now, we have to wait for DirecTV to come out and fix the problem, which means that, until then, I won't get to have my fun Thursday night Project Runway fix, because Sarah is going to a friend's house (where I am not allowed) to watch it, with her friends, and without me. So typically mean of Sarah.

This Was Supposed to Be a Picture of a Chair

2010-07-27T18:49:00.006-04:00

So, Sarah got a new office chair yesterday. In the realm of things that should not surprise anyone at this point, the chair is pink. Not a normal, light shade of pink. Oh no. Not at all. This chair is hot pink.

Of course, being a Facebook addict, Sarah immediately posted about the purchase of the chair last night after she put it together. Shortly thereafter, people asked her to see a picture of the chair.

Now, a normal person would take a picture of the chair and post it. End of matter. Sarah, being far from normal, decided to take a picture of the chair that would illustrate its color and serve to humiliate me at the same time.

And so, without further ado, here's the picture she took of her "chair":

What does dressing me up in a pink hairpiece meant for little girls have to do with an office chair? Absolutely nothing. Which means that in Sarah's world, it's the focus of a picture of a chair.

As you can see, by "chair," Sarah appears to have meant "dog with hair." Wrong. So very wrong.

Five Evil Creatures

2010-07-24T19:40:00.008-04:00

Here's a special entry. Instead of talking about oh-so-awesome me, I'm going to talk about five things I HATE. They are my grandparents' five cats, who I have to deal with when I visit my grandparents.

Sonny:
This is Sonny. She is the supreme, most-evil cat here. She takes great pleasure in smacking me when I get within, like, twenty feet of her. She even goes out of her way to find me sometimes and hit me.

Horrible. Just horrible. And the worst part? She's sixteen years old, so she should be old and decrepit. Instead, she takes pleasure in torturing me during her waning years.

I suspect Sarah put her up to this.

Boop:

This is Boop. She is the evil spawn of Sonny, and the sibling of Sasquatch and Bubba, who I will get to soon. She's not as intent on coming after me, but as you can see from this video, she's not cool either:

That first cat is Sonny, the second one is Boop.

Sasquatch:

Sasquatch is mostly harmless. She's got extra toes on her front feet, which you would think would be extra good for smacking me, but mostly they just get in her way. However, she is Sarah's favorite, so that gives me extra reason to hate her.

Bubba:

Bubba, Sasquatch, and Boop are all siblings. Bubba is fat and slow, so I love chasing him. Unfortunately, he's a jerk and figured this out, so now he hides from me when I am here. So he sucks.

Peaches:

I've written about Peaches before. My grandparents still haven't gotten rid of her, even though she is just a stray. As you can see, my grandma even gave her a collar, which suggests she's never leaving. I'm not happy about this situation.

So, those are my grandparents' cats. I hate them all.

Dogs in the News: Ice Cream Version!

2010-07-20T17:30:00.005-04:00

This? This is brilliant. A dog ice cream truck is pretty much the greatest thing that I have ever heard of.

Ice cream? Yes, please! I call this creation the "hot dog sundae," though this one is actually a bratwurst sundae. I would eat these everyday if we had an doggie ice cream truck in Indiana.

Unfortunately, it's in England. That's nowhere near Indiana. So I guess I will just have to continue living in a world without such wonderful things, because there is ZERO chance Sarah takes me somewhere cool enough to have a dog ice cream truck.

Porch Swings and Polka Dots

2010-07-15T11:32:00.009-04:00

Now, for all the complaining I do about Sarah, she has managed to do a few things right in her life. One of those things is get a house that is pretty cool. I mean, it's across the street from the park, which is great, and it has a nice fenced yard, so I can run around out there without Sarah and dig holes and get in trouble and the like.

Another cool part about the house is its front porch. Sometimes, Sarah will read on the porch swing out there and take me with her. Because it's in the front yard (and not fenced), I have to wear my leash. Sarah seems to think that I am going to run right over to the park if she takes my leash off, just because I have done it several times in the past (OK, she may have a point there. I do tend to do this every time she drops my leash).

See this? This is how I normally sit on the front porch and watch the world go by. Quite pleasant, actually.

Even with the leash, it's pretty cool to be on the front porch. Sometimes, I sit on the swing and watch people go by. Other times, I chill out on the floor, watching people through this little hole in the porch. The neighbors come by with their dogs, so I get to see my friends. And when dogs walk by in the park, I can bark at them (unless they're bigger than me, in which case I let them go by quietly. I'm not stupid enough to pick that fight when I'm outside. I only pick that one when I am safely ensconced in the house).

We're in the middle of a heat wave here in Terre Haute, so Sarah has been spending most of her time in the house, lying on the couch and complaining about how hot it is (even though the house is air conditioned and quite pleasant). But the other night, she decided it would be nice to spend some time outside on the porch, and took me with her.

Unfortunately, she decided that I needed to get dressed up to go on the porch.

I'm surprised Sarah didn't make a pitcher of lemonade to make this picture even more humiliating. Actually, I shouldn't suggest things like that. Sarah might get wind of it and re-stage this scene with lemonade. And probably cookies as well (though I have no objection to cookies).

Now, normally I think dressing up a dog is stupid and pointless (I come with a fur coat - unless Sarah comes up with some diamonds for me, it's unlikely she's going to find something better than what God gave me). However, it is actually more stupid and pointless when it's hot out, because clothing is just going to make me hotter! I mean, really. Does Sarah not understand this concept? Wait, wait, don't answer that question.

Does this look like the face of a dog who likes wearing a sundress? I think not.

Anyway, it was luckily too hot for Sarah to sit out for long, so my humiliation was only short-lived (short-lived enough that I didn't even see any of my doggie friends, which is good when I look so stupid). Still, this shouldn't have occurred in the first place. Stupid Sarah.

Keep Your Tutu Awayway From Me

2010-07-13T12:51:00.008-04:00

There are certain sounds that a dog should hear and get excited about. For example, the sound of cats being yelled at, or plates of food being dropped on the floor.

One such example should also be the sounds of an owner's excited squeal upon the discovery of something fun and unexpected. However, if you're me, that's not a sound you want to get excited about.

Why? Because the reason for that excited squeal may be Sarah's discovery of dog clothing she forgot she had.

So, so wrong. And, of course, pink. It's like the universe has something against me.

A couple months ago, Sarah bought me the tutu pictured above. Now, it used to fit better, but I guess all that good cooking at my grandparents' house fattened me up. So, instead of tossing the tutu, or waiting until I go back to the normal, slightly less big boned version of myself before making me wear it, Sarah just decided to put the tutu around my neck, like I'm some kind of Project Runway reject from an unaired episode involving clown college. Seriously, Sarah. Not cool.

I may look happy in the first picture. This one more accurately captures my desire to either hide or kill Sarah, and then proceed to destroy this abomination of a tutu.

Happily, this is the only thing Sarah seemed to find in my clothing drawer that I haven't already worn. Of course, the downside to that small iota of happiness in my otherwise bleak existence is that this will probably be used by Sarah to justify the purchase of something new and potentially even more humiliating than the tutu/neck warmer. Though I am not sure this is even possible.

Ten Reasons I Love Vacation

2010-07-12T20:38:00.011-04:00

So, as you know, I have been on vacation for the last ten days. Granted, it was not a vacation to some exotic location, but I did get to go see my grandparents, which is just as good. Now, because Sarah insisted on taking her computer with her (which makes absolutely no sense, because she was going to northern Minnesota to camp, and I know for a fact that there was no internet service where she was), I didn't get to discuss most of the awesome things I did over vacation. Thankfully, though, Sarah has brought the computer back, and now I am going to give you ten awesome things about vacation:

10. Wiffle Ball: Now, others may thing that wiffle ball is just a game played with a bat and ball. It's so much more than that - namely, an opportunity to steal wiffle balls and chew them to pieces. I only got my paws on two, but they were fantastic to chew up with all those little holes. I highly recommend their tasty plastic awesomeness.

OK, I didn't really play wiffle ball so much as watch others actually play.

9. Chasing a Deer: I saw something awesome last week at my grandparents' house - a deer. And my grandma (whose coolness I cannot stress enough) let me run through a room I am otherwise not allowed in, to chase it! Now, I know that most people would probably think I would put this super high on fun things I did last week, but I have to admit something - deer are a little scary. I mean, those things have long legs, and I would rather not get hit in the head by one of their hooves. I bet that would hurt a lot more than a cat scratch. Still, I did enjoy chasing the deer, at least until it ran into the woods (which are rather scary, and which I stay out of if at all possible).

8. My Aunt Charlotte: She took Sarah away on vacation, which is unbelievably awesome. However, she has a cat, so many, many points were taken off for that. She'd be way high on this list without that cat (though, in the cat's defense, it hates Sarah and even gave her cat scratch fever once before I was born and fully able to enjoy it. Therefore, it's the coolest cat ever. Still, it's a cat).

7. Eating Furniture: It's not just for sitting anymore! I ate part of an ottoman this last week. I haven't eaten any furniture at home yet, but Sarah is now on notice (and seriously, eating furniture is quite fun. I was considering starting with the good couch, but I like sitting on it too much. I think I'll go with Sarah's bed first, to punish Sarah for keeping me off of it).

6. My Uncle James and Aunt Colleen: They brought my cousin Izzy with them over this last weekend, which was great (as you'll hear about further down the list). They might be higher, but they make Izzy wear a harness just like mine, which is MEAN. Also, note to Aunt Charlotte: Get rid of the cat and get a dog, and you too will move up this list.

5. People Food & Cat Food: The entire time I was at my grandparents' house, I ate exactly 3/4 of a bowl of dog food (my cousin Izzy ate the other 1/4). Why? Because my awesome grandparents kept sneaking me people food. Even better, I kept eating the cats' food. Not because I like it, but because it pisses them off when I eat it. That stuff could taste like poo and I would still eat it to make the cats mad (not that poo is as terrible as you humans think it is. I don't eat as much as I once did, but I still make it a regular meal).

4. Chasing Cats: A classic activity when I visit my grandparents. But it never gets old.

3. My Cousin Izzy: She's almost my size now, but I can still totally beat her up with my powerful (read: fat) build. Plus, she decided not to sleep at all Saturday night, meaning that she kept me up all night. Together, we kept Sarah up all night. Sarah was none too happy about this. And even though I was SUPER tired the next day, it was awesome.

This picture isn't from the weekend, because someone forgot to take a picture of the two of us. I'll give you three guesses, but one should be "that moron" and another should be "Sarah."

2. My Grandparents: They are awesome. I should probably treat them better, and not do things like eat their ottoman. But I can't help it - it was fun AND tasty. Oh, and sorry about the barfing incident. And the chasing the cats (OK, I had my paws crossed for that one. I love chasing those little bastards).

And the best thing about vacation?

1. No Sarah: What? Did you ever think it would be something else?

Me, all alone in Wisconsin. I may not look it here, but on the inside, I was jumping for joy.

I Heart My Grandparents

2010-07-10T00:30:00.006-04:00

So, as you may know, I have spent the last week at my grandparents' house while Sarah has been on vacation. It has been TONS of fun, even though I think that they might be a little annoyed with me. I kind of barfed after they fed me lots of good food (I like to think that I have a sensitive tummy, but really, if you eat 10 pounds worth of food, you're going to get sick whether or not you have a sensitive tummy). And I've been sort of pesty at the dinner table, but you'd be the same way if you were forced to sit around while everyone else ate Grandma's awesome cooking.

Anyway, Sarah gets back soon, because she is coming to help celebrate my grandparents' 35th wedding anniversary! While it will suck to have to deal with Sarah and her crap again, it's pretty cool that my grandparents are having a party. Even better, as part of the celebration, they're hosting a wiffle ball party. So that they don't look horrible at it, they've been practicing a little. I've totally been helping them practice.

OK, by "help," I mean I just rolled around in the grass while everyone else played wiffle ball. Still, I'm sure having a cute dog around totally improved everyone's playing.

Anyway, as far as I can tell, wiffle ball is pretty easy. And, as it involves plastic balls, it's great for me - I just take a ball, run away with it, and totally chew it up. My kind of game.

Sarah made me wear the bandana. I, however, needed no encouragement to chew up this ball and bat.

Anyway, I am hoping that wiffle ball becomes a regular feature of life at my grandparents' house, because it is totally a lot of fun. Even if I would rather chew up stuff than actually play.

Happy 4th of July!

2010-07-01T16:23:00.007-04:00

So, I know a lot of you who read my blog aren't American, and so you might not know that this weekend we have our Independence Day (then again, you might have seen the movie with that name and know all about it. For the record, it is usually celebrated with fireworks, not an alien invasion).

Sarah made me sit in front of this flagpole the other day on our walk so she could take my picture. I think it's supposed to show me as patriotic. Mostly it was just embarrassing. People stared.

The best thing about this for me? It means Sarah has a three day weekend, and we're going to go up to Wisconsin! I'm super excited, but not really because of the three day weekend.

The real reason I'm excited? Sarah is going to Minnesota next week, and I get to spend the entire week at my grandparents' house without her!

According to this map, a significant portion of Minnesota is constantly experiencing winter. Of course, northern Wisconsin has been taken over by a giant bird (which I can only assume is supposed to be a loon, as it looks nothing like an actual loon), so I probably should not rely on this map as an accurate representation of the state.

This is an awesome development in my life. While Sarah is camping with her sister (who has a cat and is therefore probably not to be entirely trusted), I am going to be having the best week ever! I have even started a list of things I am planning on doing:

Chase the cats. I'm starting with the fat black one named Bubba (he's not in any of those pictures at the link, so you'll just have to trust me on what he looks like). He's not just fat, he's the only one who has been declawed, so when he hits me in the nose, it doesn't hurt, it's just funny.
Lie in the fountain. It's how I imagine heaven. Wet, cool, and stinky.
Sneak into the living room and lie on the leather couch. Oh man, I have been wanting to do this FOREVER. I'll have to hide from my grandma when I do this, because I'm pretty sure she has the same ideas about me being on the couch as Sarah does. Neither of them approve.
Catch the skunk. There is a skunk living at my grandparents' house. So far, my attempts to catch him have come up empty. But I'm feeling like next week may finally be my week...
TBD. After all, I don't want to plan the entire week. You never know what sort of things might happen, so it's best to keep an open mind about what you will be doing.

Anyway, as you can see, it's going to be a great week. I can't wait! Unfortunately, I saw Sarah sneak something into the house the other night that she obviously didn't want me to see. I am quite worried that it has something to do with her viewing of Extreme Poodles. I swear, if she is going to ruin my best week ever, there will be highly unpleasant consequences for her.

Dogs Do Not Need Manis

2010-06-26T23:03:00.003-04:00

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

2010-06-22T21:39:00.006-04:00

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?

2010-06-18T10:00:00.000-04:00

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

2010-06-17T14:33:00.006-04:00

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

2010-06-14T11:54:00.006-04:00

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

2010-06-10T12:47:00.007-04:00

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.

My Wisconsin Nose

2010-05-30T15:05:00.006-04:00

For once, life is throwing me a bone: I'm in Wisconsin for the weekend, and even more bonus, my cousin Izzy is here!

Obviously, this is great, but even better than normal, now that it's summer, there are TONS of great smelling things out here in the country. For example, my grandparents have a fountain that gets leaves and stuff in it that makes it smell great. Unfortunately, last summer, my grandma realized that if she empties it before I get here, I can't lie around in it and obtain its perfume. So she emptied it out before I got here. What she didn't count on was that it was going to rain, which meant there is plenty of water to help make me smell just perfect.

The bouquet of this fountain is particularly lingering. For the serious connoisseur of stinking water holes only.
My grandpa had some fish he caught earlier this week that he was cleaning as well. When he wasn't paying attention, I grabbed some guts and rolled in those - also showing my cousin Izzy what's what when it comes to smells.

These particular bluegill remains were of a most excellent vintage, nose-wise.
But last night, I thought I saw the holy grail of smells: a skunk. I'm making it a goal for the rest of the weekend to catch the thing.

Does Anyone Know a Good Hit Man?

2010-05-25T11:01:00.010-04:00

There has to be some way I can kill Sarah and make it look like an accident.

This whole thing started off with something quite nice. You see, Sarah bought me a little pool, so I can cool off during the hot summer months. If you had to wear a fur coat all summer long, you'd appreciate this as well.

Most shocking thing about the pool? It's not pink. Seriously, Sarah, not everything you buy for me needs to indicate that I am a girl dog. Or, at least, that I was a girl dog, before you had the vet unceremoniously rip my girl parts out of me.
Sarah knows I like pools like this, because my grandparents have a fountain at their house which I LOVE. When I am not chasing their cats, I am typically lying in the fountain, which is often full of leaves and crap that smells fantastic (at least to a dog).

Now, I should have known Sarah would not do something so awesome like get me a pool without somehow ruining it. You see, Sarah couldn't just get me a pool. Oh no, she had to do something else, and couldn't leave well enough alone. Something so, so horrible that it needs to be seen to be believed.

Fuck and no. (Sorry Grandma, the foul language was appropriate. Do you see what she did to me?).
Oh yes, Sarah bought me a swimsuit. And a swim ring. And kiddie arm bands. And goggles. Something is seriously wrong with Sarah.

First, there is no way I am going to drown in four inches of water. I don't need seventeen things to keep me from drowning. Second, I'm a dog! I don't need swimming accoutrements. I just get in the water and paddle away (which, once again is NOT NECESSARY in a kiddie pool because it's FOUR INCHES deep). Third, seriously, who does this to a poor dog?

This is so, so wrong, I don't have words. If, however, you know of a way a dog could kill a human and make it look like an accident, please let me know. I would appreciate it.

Maybe if I shut my eyes, this whole thing will turn out to be a nightmare...Nope. All too real.
And if anyone asks, I didn't say anything about wanting to off Sarah for this.

A Saying Does Not a Fortune Make

2010-05-22T09:00:00.001-04:00

Now, I've already discussed the fact that, until Project Runway ended, I had awesome Thursday nights - two of Sarah's friends would come over and watch Tim, Heidi and Co. It was a welcome respite from Sarah prior to the weekend.

Unfortunately, Project Runway has ended, so I no longer have a weekly chance for this relief from Sarah. Sometimes, though, Sarah still has people over. Like this week, the very, very awesome Kaylan came over to watch some TV with Sarah and eat Chinese food.

Now, that alone would be great, but then, the Chinese place gave them THREE fortune cookies. It's like the cool people at the Chinese restaurant just knew that I would like my own cookie!

Cookie for me? Hells to the yes.

Unfortunately, when I got my fortune, I was not pleasantly surprised. Here it is:

He who knows he has enough is rich.
First, what kind of a fortune is that? It's not a fortune at all. It's just a saying. A fortune would be something like, "You're going to find unknown riches in your backyard."

Second, it's a stupid saying. I mean, there are certain things I could never have enough of, like squeaky toys. Obviously, whoever wrote this is content with far too little.

Lastly, and most importantly, there is one thing that I have had enough of in my life: Sarah. Now, let me tell you, having enough of Sarah does not make me rich. It just makes me pissed off. Definitely not rich. Stupid fortune cookie.

The Truffle Shuffle

2010-05-19T12:41:00.005-04:00

So, it has been awhile since I got back from Wisconsin, but I totally forgot to remark upon something that Sarah tried to make me do while we were there.

You see, it turns out that the Midwest has its own version of the truffle. It's called a morel. Supposedly, there are things called truffle pigs, which are basically pigs that search for truffles.

Now, obviously, Sarah doesn't have a pig (oh Lord, please don't ever let Sarah think that getting a pig is a good idea). However, Sarah, in her infinite capacity for stupid ideas, decided that a dog (Yours Truly) is probably an adequate substitute for a pig in the realm of mushroom hunting, and that I should become a Morel Dog.

I really wish I was kidding about this.

At the beginning of Sarah's quest to make me a morel dog. If I look happy, it's probably because I am thinking of ways I can thwart Sarah's efforts. Sarah's failures never cease to amuse me.
Of course, I was NOT going to put up with this sort of thing. I mean, really, why in the world would I want to find morels for Sarah, who would probably sell them and use the proceeds to find some new way to torture me. Like I'm going to let that happen.

So, instead of letting her attempt to teach me to hunt truffles, I ran off. It was a most excellent decision. Because, really, if I'm going to hunt something, it's going to be squirrels.

Here I am, headed off into the woods to search for squirrels. The last thing Sarah saw of me was my butt. I find this appropriate.

Sarah Can Take This Lei . . .

2010-05-17T08:00:00.001-04:00

I swear, Sarah is coming up with flimsier and flimsier excuses to dress me up in stupid outfits.

Now, Sarah has some very, very bad taste in music. For instance, she seems to think that Jimmy Buffett is the end all, be all of the music world. Saturday, Jimmy Buffett was in Indianapolis for a concert. So, of course, Sarah went over there to see the show.

Now, if she had just gone over to the concert, that would have been cool. I mean, she didn't take me, which meant that I got to spend the evening without her (and one of Sarah's cool friends even came over to let me out part way through the evening, which was AWESOME).

Unfortunately, Sarah didn't leave it at that. Oh no. She had to dress me up in honor of her attendance at the show.

I look like a tool. The least Sarah could have done was give me a margarita to ease the pain. Did she give me any alcohol? Of course not.
So, Jimmy Buffett, if you're reading this, please: Do a dog a favor, and stay out of Indy for awhile. I'd really appreciate it.

Cats: My Natural Enemy

2010-05-15T08:01:00.006-04:00

Now, as much as I love my grandparents and Wisconsin, all is not rainbows and puppy dogs at their house. Far from it. You see, they have five - yes FIVE - cats.

One of the little cat bastards. This one is named Sonny and is 15 years old. Don't let her age fool you - she has 15 years of experience taunting dogs.
I don't know what possessed my grandparents to get all of these cats. I'm hoping it was temporary insanity.

This one is named Peaches. She was a stray that my grandparents decided to feed, and she just stuck around. So, so wrong. I mean, look at her. Obviously devil spawn.
Sadly, as my grandparents seem to feed any old cat that shows up at their house, I think this is more of a permanent affliction. They should probably seek professional help for this problem.

Would you want to hurt this cute face? Of course not. You're not a cat.
Sadly, I don't have the monetary resources to help my grandparents learn that cats are nowhere near as cute as dogs, and Sarah is too cheap to fund this herself. Plus, obviously, she likes to torture me, so she's perfectly happy to subject me to the cats.

Sonny the cat, on the other hand? Definitely has it out for me.
I'm holding out hope that my grandparents realize how much I hate the cats and decide to get rid of them. After all, I'm so much cuter and more awesome - they really should just do what I want.

I Don't Need a Leash

2010-05-11T12:30:00.000-04:00

So, last Tuesday, Sarah took me to Wisconsin - it was great! We stayed through Sunday. This was far, far too short of a time to spend there, but what else do I expect from Sarah? If I like something, she can't stand to let me do it. Jerk.

Among the many cool things about Wisconsin is that my grandparents (who are so much more awesome than Sarah) live out in the country, which means that, the whole time I am in Wisconsin, I never, ever have to be on a leash! I get to run around to my heart's content, chasing squirrels, and cats, and whatever else I want.

On a leashless Wisconsin walk. It's great to be leashless, but one must always be attentive. Sarah might be sneaking up with a leash, or (even worse) a cat. Oh, you only think she wouldn't sneak up on me with a cat. I know her better than that.
Of course, one super bonus part of not having to be on a leash is that I can run far, far away from Sarah whenever I want!

See that little black speck? That's me, running away from Sarah and giving her the finger. OK, maybe not that last part, because I don't really have fingers. But you get the point.
Unfortunately, now that we're back in Indiana, I'm stuck on the leash again, being dragged around wherever Sarah wants to go, which sucks. I mean, that's how I end up doing things like looking at the white squirrels. I swear, Sarah must sit around all day thinking of ways to torture me, because she certainly finds great ways to do so.

See this? This is me in happier, leashless times. Ah, the memories...

Happy Cinqo de Mayo!

2010-05-05T09:06:00.002-04:00

Sarah really has a thing about dressing me up for the holidays. Normally, this is where I would link to all those posts, but seriously. I look like a tool when she dresses me up. If you want to see the other ways she has humiliated me for the holidays, I'll let you figure it out on your own.

Here's what she did to me for Cinqo de Mayo:

You know, the least Sarah could have done was choose a picture where my eyes were open. But nooooo, she had to choose one that made me look drunk, even though (a) Sarah never gives me any booze - she hoards it for herself, and (b) I look even more like a tool this way than if she had just put a sombrero on me and called it a day.

And also, for the record, who puts a sombrero on a dog? I'll tell you who: Sarah. Hate. Hate. Hate.

Dogs in the News: Never Gonna Happen Edition

2010-05-03T08:00:00.000-04:00

This? This is a dog mansion:

Yeah, that's never gonna happen in my lifetime. You suck, Sarah.

A Mistakenly Identified Chew Toy

2010-05-01T14:09:00.004-04:00

I feel the need to complain about something.

You see, back when I was a younger pup, I did some things that I now feel were quite immature, and of which I now wish there was no record.

Take a look at this:

This? This is what a puppy brain hyped on rawhides thinks is a good idea to chew up.
If you're wondering exactly what this is, it's Sarah's cell phone cover. Back as a younger puppy, I mistook this for a toy, and as a result, it looks like something the dog chewed up (because, you know, it is something that the dog chewed up). Now, as you know if you read this blog regularly, I would normally not only find the chewed up cell phone cover to be OK, but actually something awesome, as it makes Sarah quite angry. However, that's just not the case here.

You see, a normal person would see this, and throw it away. Sarah? Not a normal person. Instead of throwing away the cover, Sarah kept the thing and is still using it, even though I chewed it up over a year ago! Even worse, Sarah got this for free, so it's not like she paid a bajillion dollars for it and somehow feels obligated to keep it because of its cost.

And the worst part? People are always giving Sarah strange looks about the cover, and asking her about it. And you know who she blames for this? ME! It's so wrong - I mean, Sarah is the one who insists on carrying around an old and busted cell phone cover, when it would be super easy to go get a new one. Sarah should get the blame here, not me. But, as usual, I'm the one who gets the short end of the stick.

Tim Gunn, You're Killing Me

2010-04-27T23:05:00.005-04:00

So, despite her own super uncool tendencies, Sarah somehow manages to have BOTH a cool family and cool friends. Sometimes, Sarah even lets me hang out with these cool members of her family and friends (though such hanging out happens far too rarely for my tastes. Of course, if I had my way, I would hang out with Sarah's cool family and friends 100% of the time, and hang out with Sarah 0% of the time).

Once a week, Sarah has two of her cool friends over to the house to watch television. Specifically, they all watch Project Runway.

Sarah thinks "Nina Garcia" would be a great name for a dog. The real Nina Garcia thinks this idea is lacking in taste.
Here's the problem: Now that Project Runway is over, Sarah's friends aren't going to be coming over on Thursdays and watching television! So, this means yet another boring night of the week where I am stuck with Sarah, being forced to watch the crappy shows that she enjoys.

So, with this blog post, I implore you, Tim Gunn: bring back my Project Runway goodness as soon as possible. Life without it will be highly unpleasant.

Do Russian Dogs Drink Vodka?

2010-04-22T09:01:00.005-04:00

So, despite Sarah's horrible-ness, she somehow manages to have a cool family (this never fails to shock me - I have no idea how they messed up on Sarah and made her such a jerk to me). The most super cool family members are my grandparents. They're the ones who live in Wisconsin (AWESOME), and have the house with all the land around it where I can run and ignore Sarah when we visit (DOUBLE AWESOME).

Now, I'm kind of worried, because Sarah and I are supposed to go to Wisconsin in the first week of May. She has to do some work thing (BORING), but I get to spend the whole week at my grandparents' house, chasing the mean kitties and splashing in their fountain and playing with the neighbor dogs. That's all cool. What I'm worried about is that my grandpa won't be there - you see, he's in Russia right now, and thanks to the volcano, he might not get to come home in time to ~~give me presents~~ see me. And that would be horrible!

Happily, though, my grandpa does have a blog, so at least I get to hear about what he is doing in Russia even if he doesn't get back. Of course, if he doesn't get back, I won't be able to find out answers to my questions, like, do Russian dogs drink vodka?

Cute dogs for sale in Russia. Not as cute as me, obviously, but still cute.
Russia seems pretty cool. Of course, somewhere that cool probably wouldn't let Sarah in the country, but I hold out hope that they might see fit to let me visit. Without Sarah, obviously. I could definitely use a vacation from Sarah. A permanent vacation, if possible.

A Russian meat counter. I think I could probably eat all of this food in an hour or so. Maybe 45 minutes.
I hope that my grandpa can get home before I am supposed to visit him - I'm tired of dealing with Sarah. I need a vacation from her!

Revenge Is Sweet

2010-04-21T12:00:00.000-04:00

Revenge is mine!

As you know, Sarah made me stay at the kennel this weekend while she partied it up in Wisconsin. But last night, I had my sweet, sweet revenge.

Last night, Sarah was cleaning up around the house. She had an Easter rubber ducky that needed to be put away with her Easter decorations, and she left it on the counter to take it to the basement, where she keeps her Easter decorations when it's not Easter season.

What Sarah didn't anticipate about this was that I would see this toy-like object sitting there, and take it for my own (she is not the smartest cookie in the jar). And so, I took it - I just grabbed it off of the counter when she wasn't paying attention, and proceeded to destroy the thing.

I think this rubber ducky is improved with a portion of its head removed, don't you?
Sarah totally didn't even notice for about five minutes, by which time the ducky was headless and on its way to total destruction. Total success!

The Kennel and Sarah Dogs

2010-04-20T13:40:00.005-04:00

Now, I know some of you have felt a little bad for me having to go to my kennel/doggie day care, but it's really not too bad. I mean, for a couple days, it's a vacation from Sarah, and the owner of the place is AWESOME (unlike Sarah). I get a big run all to myself, I get to go for walks out in the country (because the kennel is way out in the country, with horses and such), and I get to run around inside the doggie day care play area as much as I want, unless it's bedtime or time to eat.

Unfortunately, there are usually some other dogs around. Most of them are cool, but even then, it means that the humans have other dogs to pay attention to, when, obviously, they should be paying attention to ME. And, of course, like whenever there are a lot of dogs around, there are going to be some jerks. I refer to these dogs as "Sarahs," for the striking personality similarities between them and Sarah.

My cousin Izzy and me. So far, not a Sarah dog. However, I reserve my right to make further judgments on her as necessary.

For example, Sarah doesn't let me eat more than a few treats a day. And the Sarah dogs steal treats from me. Sarah doesn't want to play all the time when I do, and the Sarah dogs don't want to play all the time either. And sometimes the Sarah dogs growl at me, which is much like when Sarah yells at me for being on the good couch or whatever.

So, really, about two days at the kennel is perfect. Of course, as you saw with my last entry, I was not there for two days this last weekend, I was there for FOUR, because someone hates me and abandoned me while she partied it up in Wisconsin. And you know what else? Rumor has it that Sarah is leaving me there again this weekend so she can go hang out with her friends. You know what I say? Real friends would be the kind that let me come with and hang out, too.

I Should Be Writing This From Wisconsin

2010-04-17T10:11:00.004-04:00

Oh, man, I am LIVID. And, as always, the person who is responsible for this is Sarah.

Sarah had to go up to Wisconsin at the end of the week. Now, if you follow my blog, you know that I love Wisconsin. Of course, Sarah being as mean as she is to me, didn't take me with her. Something about not wanting to take me on the airplane (she was flying up there).

But here's the real problem: Sarah was originally only going up there for two days. Now, as much as I enjoy Wisconsin, I also enjoy my doggie day care, so I figured it was a pretty even trade: Sarah goes to Wisconsin, and I get two days of fun and no Sarah at doggie day care. But then, Sarah decided that she was going to stay in Wisconsin through the weekend.

Me, on a happier day when Sarah took me to Wisconsin.
Oh, I cannot tell you how mad I am about this. Now, instead of getting to go back home after two days, I have to spend FOUR days at doggie day care. And Sarah is partying it up in Wisconsin. She's probably giving her leftovers to the cats (who are mean and evil and I hate - Sarah gets along with them quite well). And I bet that she's having an awesome time, laughing at me stuck here. I hate her so much.

Dogs in the News: Baseball Pooper Version

2010-04-13T13:29:00.002-04:00

Oh, man, I LOVE this video:

I swear, I will never get tired of watching stupid humans chasing an obviously much smarter dog around. And the part where it stops to take a crap? Priceless. I'm hoping Sarah takes me to a baseball game sometime, because I would totally love to try this myself. Except, of course, I would hope that the authorities would take me away from Sarah for letting me get loose at a baseball park and I could go live with someone better.

Dogs in the News: Automatic Dog Washing Machine Version

2010-04-08T12:30:00.001-04:00

OK, there are times in my life when I think that living with any human other than Sarah would be an improvement. However, it turns out that there are all sorts of other humans out there who would not be much of a step up. Take, for example, the man who invented this automatic dog washing machine. An automatic dog washing machine? Are you kidding me? Apparently not, because here's a picture of the thing (with more at the link):

Though the linked website is from China, the machine itself is in Japan. Of course a nation obsessed with Hello Kitty would invent something so anti-dog as an automatic dog washing machine.
Now, if you read this blog on a regular basis, you know that I am not too fond of getting baths. But at least if Sarah is involved in the process, there is the chance for me to get her all wet. However, this machine takes away that one, small part of bath time that gives me even the slightest bit of joy. Boo!

Thankfully, Sarah is not planning to take me to Japan anytime soon (as far as I know - she's sneaky enough that she might be planning just such a trip, and not telling me about it). So, for the time being, bath time will continue to be a chance for me to soak Sarah and otherwise cause trouble for her. Still, I'm pretty sure that I'm going to have nightmares about this machine tonight.

I Don't Do Dog Snuggies

2010-04-07T12:30:00.002-04:00

I cannot stress how much of an idiot Sarah can be. Let's discuss yesterday as an example. Now, yesterday was a beautiful day in Terre Haute, where we live. We're talking 80 degrees and sunny. Absolutely beautiful.

Sarah being cheap, there is no way that she turns on the air conditioner until it's 90 plus outside. So, the house is really, really warm today - definitely warmer than the 80 it is outside. It's so warm that the only comfortable way to deal with this sort of heat is to lie around doing nothing (btw, I am excellent at this).

So, when Sarah gets home, what does she think is a good idea? She thinks it's a good idea to put a Snuggie on me. Yes, a dog Snuggie.

I can't stress enough that Sarah is a tool for putting me in a Snuggie.

Now, the Snuggie even in cold weather is stupid. But in this weather? Truly moronic. And you know why she made me wear it? Because she wanted to read this book she got, called The Animal Review, and wanted me to sit with her looking cute. Newsflash, Sarah: I look cute whether or not you put me in a Snuggie. And you're just sitting at home reading, like anyone is going to see you reading and make a judgment about the cuteness of the scene.

Here I am with the book. Personally, I enjoy the Animal Review website.

Happily, Sarah eventually took off the Snuggie. Now, I am going to plot a way to destroy the thing. I never want to wear it again.

Choppy Evens the Score

2010-04-06T18:25:00.004-04:00

So, last week, I detailed my problems with Sarah teaching me to act like a monkey. Unfortunately, Sarah got me on that one.

But I have discovered a way to deal with this - I can just ignore Sarah!

I realized that Sarah knows that I can catch a frisbee just fine. So, when Sarah wants me to catch, I can just ignore her, like I did in the video! When other people are around, I can impress them with my mad frisbee catching skills. It's a fabulous plan - piss Sarah off by not catching, yet show off for other people, so that they can see how smart I am. It's a perfect plan!

Developments in America's Dairyland

2010-04-04T17:10:00.008-04:00

So, Friday, I got to Wisconsin, where I proceeded to have an awesome time. It was shaping up to be my typical weekend here in America's Dairyland - running around the countryside, chasing cats and other animals, and just generally having a blast.

But Saturday morning, there was a development. You see, Sarah's brother brought something he got last weekend - a puppy named Izzy. Also known as my doggy cousin.

Adorable? Maybe. Competition for food and attention? Definitely.

Now, here's the thing about another dog, especially a cute one like this. While it's a lot of fun to play with it, it means that there is another dog to eat table scraps, and hog all the attention that should be paid to me. Plus, this Izzy character is, like 4 months old, so she sits and people act like she cured cancer. Has anyone seen the sort of talent that I exhibit on a regular basis? It makes sitting look like nothing.

You see this sit? World class.

But, at the end of the day, it's pretty cool to have another dog around. I mean, I'm bigger than her, so I can totally muscle her out of the way to get the best food. And having another dog around means that I don't have to find Sarah if I want to play with my toys with someone else. This Izzy character was definitely happy to play with me for hours on end.

Look, I share! Sort of. I mean, I totally pulled it away from her about two seconds after the picture was taken, but I shared a little bit.

Plus, I got to show this Izzy character some fun things to do, like how to bark at and chase after cats.

Here, I am, barking at one of the cats, and setting a fine example for the doggy youth of our country.

Plus, at the end of the day, it's nice to have someone else around who isn't allowed on the bed and can sleep on the floor with me and keep me warm.

Yeah, I know how adorable this is.

All in all, I have to say that having a doggy cousin around is not entirely bad. But if she gets big enough to muscle her way in and get the best food, I reserve the right to change my mind on this Izzy character.

America's Dairyland? More Like America's Awesome-land!

2010-04-04T01:15:00.006-04:00

One of my few and far between joys in a usually craptastic life is taking trips up to Wisconsin. Now, let me tell you, Wisconsin is AWESOME. Sarah grew up there, but I'm pretty sure the powers that be in the state realized it was a mistake to let her live there, so they kicked her out, because she was bringing the cool people factor way, way down. Unfortunately, I now have to deal with the consequences of this action, and only get to go up to Wisconsin for holidays and such.

This being Easter, on Friday, Sarah packed up the car and we headed for awesome Wisconsin to celebrate the holiday. Now, one of the consequences of Sarah not living in Wisconsin is that it takes FOREVER to get there in the car.

This? This is me about an hour into the drive. Still excited.

This? This is me an hour later, after realizing we still have several hours of driving before I get to enjoy Wisconsin. Not a happy camper.

Eventually, we got to Wisconsin, which is always a miracle at some level, because Sarah seems to have learned how to drive from a Southeast Asian cab driver (for those not in the know, this is not a positive reflection on her driving skills - or, to be more specific, her lack thereof).

Ah, Wisconsin. Living up to stereotypes since 1848 - this is right down the road from my doggie grandparents. Shortly before this picture, Sarah went to the grocery store and picked up beer, brats, and milk. I wish I was kidding you about this.

There are many joys to be had in Wisconsin, not least of which is getting to spend an entire weekend wandering my grandparents' house without a leash the entire time, while Sarah just sits around ignoring me. It's like heaven.

No Sarah, No Leash, No Problems.

So, for, like, 18 hours, I was totally doing my own thing. You know, chilling, chilling, minding my business. Just generally wandering around in a blissful state, thinking all is great with the world.

And then, this showed up:

What fresh hell is this?

Yesterday Was a GREAT Day!

2010-04-01T07:17:00.003-04:00

Oh my gosh! You have to hear about my AWESOME Wednesday.

I knew it was going to be a great day, because Sarah (my AWESOME owner) woke up early, and took me on a nice, long walk. I had just gotten to the park, when I saw my dog friend, Brownie. Brownie's Mom gave me TWO treats, just for me being cute little me.

Then, because there was hardly anyone in the park, Sarah let me chase some squirrels! I totally almost caught two of them. Next time...

Then, we went to see the park's caretaker, who gave me not one, not two, but THREE treats! Just for me being cute little me!

Look at me! I sit so well! No wonder people give me treats!

When we got back home, Sarah gave me both a treat, and a rawhide! I took care of eating that before Sarah left for work, then took a nice, long nap until Sarah came home for lunch. At lunch, we played a little (I have some cool new toys that I already de-squeaked, but they're still fun to tear apart). Then Sarah went back to work, but it was OK, because I knew it was nice outside, and we would take a nice long walk when she got home.

And guess what? We did take a nice long walk! Then, even better, we got home from the walk, and Sarah cooked STEAK on the grill. Sarah even gave me a big piece of her steak (and I think she's saving a little bit more for me to eat some other time).

After that, Sarah hung out in the backyard with me, and when it got dark, we went inside and hung out there. Yesterday was a GREAT day!

APRIL FOOL!

Like my life is ever this good. Of course, Sarah probably thinks this is how I feel about my life every day. Because she's not just an April Fool, she's an Everyday Fool. Yesterday sucked. It was just like every other day in my life.

I Am Not a Monkey

2010-03-30T17:30:00.003-04:00

Sarah operates under the misguided notion that I am a creature put on this planet solely for her amusement. Of course, only she thinks of it as "amusement" - I tend to categorize what she considers amusing as humiliation, degradation, great indignities, or some combination of the three.

Take one of her winter projects, which was to teach me to catch a Frisbee. Now, on the one hand, I really don't want to learn to catch a Frisbee. I mean, it's just humiliating on so many levels. It's like she wants me to be her trained monkey, and do whatever she wants me to, whenever she wants me to. That? Not cool. Not cool at all.

On the other hand, if I don't do the trick, it suggests to Sarah that I'm stupid, and unable to learn the absolutely inane things that she wants me to do. The last thing I want is for Sarah to think is that I'm stupid, because, obviously, I'm not (unlike Sarah, who does so many stupid things on a daily basis that she could have a blog devoted entirely to the subject: "Stupid Things Sarah Did Today." A stupid name for a stupid person).

It's quite the conundrum, actually. Do Something Degrading vs. Looking Smart. Ultimately, I chose looking smart. I mean, catching a Frisbee is SOOO easy. It took me, like, no time to become pretty decent at it.

What I didn't count on was that Sarah would put evidence of my humiliation on the internet, for the whole world to see:

Of course Sarah would humiliate me by putting this on the internet. I should have known better.

But I do have one trump card that's not in the video. Even though I look all nice and obedient, I refused to give Sarah the Frisbee back. So, while I do catch the Frisbee all nice, I proceeded to run around the yard and chew on it, preventing Sarah from throwing it again and humiliating me further.

I'm calling this one even. But next time, I'm figuring out a way to get the upper hand.

Who's the Most Popular? Choppy!

2010-03-29T18:55:00.002-04:00

I meant to mark the occasion when it happened, but thanks to Sarah (the asshole) giving me other things to complain about, I didn't get the chance to mention this until today. You see, I am officially more popular than Sarah! As of last week, I have more Facebook fans than she has Facebook friends!

Who rocks the Facebook socks? The Chopmeister, that's who!

Now, I know some may consider Facebook a poor method of judging popularity. Those people are obviously assholes and should be ignored.

Unfortunately, Sarah falls squarely into this category of assholes who consider Facebook to be a poor method of judging popularity. But of course she would think this, because by this method, she's much less popular than me! And she's less popular than me on Facebook even though she has at least 20 "friends" who hardly qualify as such, because they're people she has met once, or is even unsure of how she actually knows them. These people hardly count as friends. But because I'm a sweetie, I would even give her these people in this contest. And she still loses!

So thank you to all my Facebook friends! And Sarah? She sucks. She gets no thanks until she acknowledges my superior popularity.

A Squirrel-y Road Trip - Part 2

2010-03-28T11:23:00.007-04:00

Continued from yesterday...

As I discussed yesterday, Sarah (the asshole) decided that the best way to spend Saturday morning would be to go on a road trip. While this would normally be cool - we might go to the pet store, or a dog park, or Wisconsin - yesterday, the road trip was definitely not cool. Not cool at all. You see, Sarah took me to a town called Olney, Illinois, which is known for its white squirrels.

The first thing Sarah made me do was get out of the car to get my picture taken in front of the town sign. Even though the road by the sign was super busy, Sarah managed not to get killed getting out of the car by some semi passing by at high speed (though had this happened, I would have gotten a new owner, which would have been cool). Then, she made me tramp through some swamp-y ditch, just so she would have a picture me in front of the sign.

It's the same picture from yesterday.

Now, in addition to the cars passing at high speed, thanks to the swamp-like conditions near the sign, I had to traipse through mud, hoping not to get bitten by some water moccasin or other dangerous swamp creature. Thankfully, after a couple of pictures, Sarah let me get back in the car, where I felt somewhat safe (as long as I ignored Sarah's shitty driving skills).

Now, I had hoped that Sarah would find my picture with the sign to be adequate, and we would turn around and go home to Terre Haute. My hopes were sadly misplaced. Instead of going home, we went into town to look for live white squirrels.

It did not take long to find those white bastards:

A demon bastard and a regular bastard squirrel look at each other. Probably making plans to taunt me as I sit inside the car.

Now, it turns out, white squirrels are just like regular old squirrels, except with white fur and red eyes. So, basically, they're demon squirrels (as if the regular ones aren't bastards enough). Now, instead of Sarah letting me out to kill these abominations of nature, she forced me to stay inside the car.

Does a regular squirrel taste different from a white one? I will never know, thanks to Sarah.

I totally could have caught at least one of those bastards, even if it had just been a regular one. I mean, those things were everywhere!

A bastard buffet, if only Sarah would let me out of the car.

But did Sarah let me out of the car? Of course not! Instead, she drove to some stupid lake nearby, and made me run around there, where there were no squirrels to chase after, of either the regular or demon sort. So, I jumped in the lake and got back at Sarah by getting the car all dirty when I got in to go home. It wasn't as cool as catching a demon squirrel, but it was something.

A Squirrel-y Road Trip

2010-03-27T14:37:00.004-04:00

Sarah (the asshole) really outdid herself today.

This all started when she woke up early this morning, which never happens on a Saturday. Most Saturdays, I have to start whining to get Sarah to wake up and let me out. She seems to think that I can hold it a lot longer than I actually can. I can't help my bladder size.

So, I knew from the first thing this morning that something was up because of this whole waking up early thing. Then, when she put me in the car right after our morning walk, I was definitely sure something was up.

Now, I LOVE the car. I can stick my head out the window and feel free, like Sarah isn't even there. It's great! Plus, with the exception of the vet, car rides always end somewhere awesome.

Is this heaven? No, it's the car.

Oh, how wrong I was about car rides always ending somewhere awesome.

After driving for what seemed like FOREVER, Sarah finally let me out of the car. It only took me a few seconds to realize that Sarah had brought me somewhere horrible. Somewhere infested with vile creatures. Somewhere called Olney, Illinois.

Home of the white squirrels.

To be continued...

The Vet Is Not My Friend

2010-03-26T12:39:00.007-04:00

As I have detailed before, I am not too fond of the vet. Lucky for me, I haven't had to go in several months, so nothing has been poked into me or pulled out of my butt recently.

I should have known that my luck wouldn't last forever.

On Wednesday, Sarah (the asshole) took me to get my shots and a check-up. This seemed pointless. After all, I'm a healthy young pup. What could possibly be wrong with me? Plus, some of the crap that goes on at the vet is completely pointless. Like, the vet had to draw blood for a heartworm test, even though Sarah makes me take these super gross heartworm pills once a month. If the heartworm pills work, why the hell do I need to have the blood test? For an animal that has found its way to the top of the food chain, humans can be real morons.

Only Sarah would see me acting so sad and still make me get my shots.

Of course, I did not willingly submit to this stupidity. Sarah had to pick all 62 pounds of me up and carry me into the exam room, because I wiggled out of my collar when she tried to drag me in there (seriously - who voluntarily goes into a room where you know someone is not only going to drain your blood, but stick a spoon up your butt to pull out poop?).

The least Sarah could do if I am going to be forced to go to the vet is schedule all of my shots at the same time. But no, Sarah can't do that. So, in May, I have to go back to the vet for a second set of shots. Thanks for nothing, asshole.

Dogs Need Beds, Too!

2010-03-25T12:53:00.005-04:00

Sarah (the asshole) is perpetrating a great injustice against me. You see, while Sarah gets to sleep on a nice, comfy bed every night, she forces me to sleep on the hard, hard floor, with only a bedspread to soften my sensitive self:

This is what Sarah considers a bed. This? Not a bed.

Now, I can totally see how Sarah would want the entire bed to herself. I mean, who doesn't like to spread out and take up as much room as possible when sleeping? I am certainly guilty of hogging space.

Here's the problem. You see, Sarah makes me sleep on the floor of her bedroom every night, with only a blanket, even though she has an entire, empty, spare bedroom, complete with a bed, that I could sleep on!

You know who sleeps in this bed? No one. You know who should sleep in this bed? Me!

Now, it's one thing to be an accidental asshole. I mean, some people are born as jerks, and don't even recognize that they are the way that they are. But with Sarah, it's like she takes pride in being as mean to me as possible. I mean, if I so much as smell the bed in the spare bedroom, she freaks out! Seriously, Sarah, take a pill! It's just a dog sniffing a bed! Calm down!

Unfortunately, in cultivating her assholishness, Sarah not only won't let me on the spare bed, she doesn't even let me in the spare bedroom when she is not around. It's like she doesn't trust me at all while she is out of the house. OK, yes, I spend lots of time on the good couch when she is at work. And I have been known to counter surf every now and then. But come on! It's just a bed, it can be cleaned. I need my beauty sleep! Stupid rules. And stupid Sarah.

Gloves: Part of a Nutritious Diet

2010-03-23T08:00:00.001-04:00

You know, if Sarah (the asshole) doesn't want me to chew up things, she shouldn't leave them lying somewhere easy to get to, like inside a backpack on top of a counter. Take today, for example. Sarah did just that with her gardening gloves.

Now, her gardening gloves smell wonderful - a combination of dirt and manure. Those are just the sort of things that I LOVE to chew up.

The destroyed glove - note the chewed up thumb. So much fun!

Of course, even better than the joy of chewing up Sarah's gardening gloves was bringing them to her and showing off my handiwork. She was so pissed off at me! She took them away from me, and put them right back in the backpack where they had come from. So, obviously, I went right back and got them out again to continue chewing on them.

Unfortunately, this time when I brought back the gloves, Sarah took them and put them away in a drawer, which I have (so far) been unable to figure out how to open up. It's kind of idiotic of her, though, because what is she going to do with a glove with a chewed up thumb? It's no good any more, she might as well let me continue chewing them up.

But before she did that, she made me take a picture with the fruits of my labor:

These only cost $2, yet Sarah is still pissed off at their demise. Not just an asshole, she's cheap to boot.

So, so mean to me. I hate Sarah.

Counter Surfing Is the New Hotness

2010-03-22T08:00:00.001-04:00

Among Sarah's insane number of arbitrary rules are about a million rules related to food. One of the most annoying is her rule against counter surfing.

For those of you not in the know, counter surfing is when a dog - such as myself - puts his or her paws up on the kitchen counter to see what sort of goodness is being hidden up there.

I'm only 2 1/2 feet tall. How does Sarah expect me to see what's on the counter if I don't counter surf?

Like, 90% of the time, there's nothing on the counter worth my time or attention. Probably because, in addition to being an asshole, Sarah is very, very boring (and yet she wonders why she has no mans...).

But sometimes, Sarah leaves perfectly good food up there. I mean, just this weekend alone, Sarah left several plates with decent amounts of leftovers in them on the counter. And you know what she was going to do with that perfectly good food? Put it right down the garbage disposal! Does she think that I'm going to let perfectly good food go to waste like that? Not a chance! So, I counter surfed, and ate up what was leftover.

Of course, over time, I've gotten better at counter surfing. Sarah used to be able to put things at the back of the counter and keep them away from me, but I've wised up:

That's right, Sarah. I figured you out!

Of course, there might be some of you who see my desire to get at food on the counter as a source of my not-entirely-svelte figure. And you know what? You're assholes, just like Sarah.

Bath Time Is Not Fun Time

2010-03-21T09:58:00.004-04:00

For some, the weekend is the best part of the week. For me, though, it sucks. You see, during the week, Sarah (the asshole) is at work most of the time, so I am on my own to do as I please. However, on the weekend, Sarah is here, and I am forced to put up with her all day.

Take yesterday. It was a beautiful day here, and it started off just fine - Sarah took me for a nice, long walk, and I got to see a bunch of other dogs. But then, we got home, and, because it was nice, I went out in the backyard, where I was minding my own business. As part of my business, I decided to roll in a substance I found back there. Hey, what can I say? I like the eau de shit (I am a dog, after all).

Now, I came back in, and Sarah was not very happy with me. This is what I looked like:

Lookin' good, if I do say so myself.

While I was happy to have pissed Sarah off, I was not happy with what happened next. You see, Sarah immediately decided I could not be in the house in this state, so she dragged me upstairs and gave me a bath. I wasn't even that dirty, just a little dirty!

I hate baths.

Thankfully (and surprisingly), Sarah did not take a picture of me while I was getting my bath. However, after I got out, she took this one of me:

All clean. Not a happy camper.

But I got the last laugh - as soon as I was all clean, I went right back outside and rolled in the crap again. Sarah was so frustrated she didn't even give me a second bath. And she left me alone for the rest of the day. It was awesome.

Backyard Fun With Holes

2010-03-19T12:35:00.003-04:00

Among my few joys in life is the backyard of my house. Other than the squirrels, it's pretty awesome. One big reason it's awesome? Sarah (the asshole) very rarely goes out there.

Now, because she is rarely back there, this means I can pretty much get away with anything in the backyard. And you know what one of my fave things to do back there is? Dig holes.

One of my wonderful digging creations. Hopefully, I will find someone else to take care of me at the bottom of this hole.

Now, I am always hopeful that I will dig deep enough to get to China (or at least Illinois), where I will find someone to take care of me. So far, no good on that one.

However, there are other good things about digging holes. As one of my goals in life is to make Sarah's life as miserable as possible, I have to live with whatever results from this goal. Namely, this means I worry that Sarah will one day get so angry with me that she will stop feeding me. As I enjoy eating a lot, this would be very, very bad. So, to deal with that potentiality, I have to hoard whatever treats Sarah gives me.

Now, I can't just leave the treats lying around the house, or Sarah might start to think that I don't like treats and shouldn't get any more. That would be a horrible turn of events. Treats are a shining beacon of good in my otherwise joyless life.

So, to hide my treats, I just bury them in the backyard, where Sarah won't find them. It's actually quite a good plan - Sarah has so far never, ever found even one of my buried treasures.

But you know the best thing about digging holes? On the few occasions where Sarah does go in the backyard, seeing my holes everywhere really pisses her off. Which is, obviously, awesome.

St. Patrick's Day Sucks

2010-03-17T12:45:00.004-04:00

You know, at least if Sarah (the asshole) had been drunk, there would have been some sort of reason for her to have thought doing this to me was a good idea:

Of course, she wasn't drunk when she took this picture, and even more unfortunately, neither was I. That's not beer there, it's just water with food coloring in it.

Even worse, I'm sure I'll be forced to watch The Boondock Saints when Sarah gets home from work today. She'll probably have a beer, and I'm sure she won't share with me (she'll probably try to foist more green water on me).

I hate St. Patrick's Day.

Rules Are Not For Me

2010-03-15T12:33:00.004-04:00

Sarah (the asshole) has some completely arbitrary rules around the house. One rule that really pisses me off involves the two couches in the house. In the TV room, we have a hard, uncomfy couch without pillows. In the living room, we have a soft, super comfy couch with a bunch of pillows.

Now, Sarah only lets me go on one of these couches. I'm sure you're familiar enough with Sarah's asshole ways to know that I'm not allowed on the comfy couch, even though Sarah rarely uses it, AND it has a great view out the front window of the house.

Heavenly napping on the good couch - so close, yet so far away.

Luckily for me, Sarah is gone at least 8 hours a day at work. So, in the morning, after watching Sarah leave and making sure that the coast is clear, I jump right on up on the couch and settle in for a nice nap. Now, it's all fine and dandy when Sarah is at work and I can just snooze away. But when she comes home, I'm forced to obey the couch rule and only sleep on the uncomfy couch.

Admittedly, sometimes I try and break the rules, like when Sarah is watching TV and super caught up in paternity tests on Maury (she has AWFUL taste in television, like so many other things). But the moment that she gets up off of her butt and catches me, all hell breaks loose. She immediately yells at me, like I've eaten a pair of shoes or something really bad. I'm always thinking, chill the fuck out, Sarah, I'm just lying on the couch. It's not the end of the world.

I guess I really shouldn't expect anything else from Sarah, though. She is, after all, an asshole.

A Short-Lived Victory

2010-03-13T21:26:00.004-05:00

Haha! I completely messed with Sarah (the asshole) earlier this week! You see, Sarah spends far too much time on her computer, when a good owner would spend that time taking me out for walks or to the pet store or for a car ride. So, Thursday night, I pretended I was chewing on a toy, but instead, I was chewing right through the computer cord:

See that? That's the cord in two pieces. I even did it without getting a big shock (trust me, I have some experience in this particular subject. It involved Sarah's Playstation - of course, that was totally worth the shock to get Sarah to actually pay some attention to me for once).

I figured this would get me at least a weekend of Sarah being forced to do fun things with me, but I wasn't counting on Amazon being able to ship a new one so that it would arrive on a Saturday. Turns out, Amazon employs a bunch of bastards who wish to facilitate Sarah's assholishness, and they have Saturday delivery. So, of course, Sarah got the Saturday delivery, and I got to spend my Saturday watching her play on the computer.

Next time, I chew up the cord on a Friday night after the deadline for Saturday delivery has passed, and ensure that Sarah has to play with me all weekend.

I Need My Morning Beauty Walk!

2010-03-11T12:37:00.003-05:00

As I have mentioned before, I live across the street from a park.

Beautiful me in front of one of the signs for the park.

It's a pretty cool place to live across the street from, except for the squirrels. Plus, when Sarah (the asshole) and I go for walks, there's almost always something interesting going on that at least momentarily distracts me from how much my life usually sucks.

Now, normally, Sarah takes me for two walks a day. Despite the fact that these walks are entirely too short and require me to be on a leash, they are definitely the highlight of my otherwise shitastic life. One of the best parts of our morning walk is that we get to see the park's caretaker. Unlike Sarah, she appreciates my awesomeness, and gives me several treats every morning. Obviously, this makes her awesome.

Sadly for poor little me, the caretaker doesn't work in the park all winter, because there isn't enough work to keep her busy. This obviously sucks for me. But then today, guess who came back to the park? The caretaker!

This is pretty much going to be the highlight of my year, and I can hardly contain my excited pee while Sarah is getting ready this morning. Considering what happened shortly after she got ready, I should have let the excited pee flow freely.

You see, Sarah skipped our morning walk! The asshole!

Sarah excused this inexcusable behavior by claiming that we were in the middle of a downpour and she didn't want to go out in the rain and get her work clothes all wet. Newsflash, asshole: you could put on old clothes and carry an umbrella and not get wet! Did you ever stop to think about that solution? Actually, Sarah probably did think of this solution, but thought it would be fun to torture me by making me stay inside and watch the park's caretaker give away my treats to other, less-deserving dogs in the park. She's just that kind of asshole.

I Told You So

2010-03-10T17:30:00.000-05:00

In case you had any doubt about squirrels being little bastards, I present this article for your reading displeasure. A little advance tidbit from the article in picture form: