Garden Dog

 

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

Cold, Cold, Cold!

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.

Christmas, Part 2

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

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...

Dogs Don't Need Life Jackets

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.

Five Evil Creatures

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.

I Heart My Grandparents

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!

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:

1. 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.
   
2. Lie in the fountain. It's how I imagine heaven. Wet, cool, and stinky.
3. 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.
4. 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...
5. 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.

My Wisconsin Nose

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.

The Truffle Shuffle

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.

I Don't Need a Leash

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...

Developments in America's Dairyland

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.

What I Could Have Had In Life

It turns out that Sarah (the asshole) used to live in Wisconsin. So, this last weekend, Sarah took me up there to visit her parents, which is why I couldn't post anything for your reading pleasure for the last few days. Here's what I learned while there:

1. Cats are assholes. This is a picture of one mere seconds before it smacked me.

I hate cats. Almost as much as I hate Sarah.

2. Wisconsin is freaking awesome. So, of course, Sarah moved away. Probably with the thought that she was going to get a dog and then torture it with weekends in Wisconsin. And I'm the one who has to suffer.

3. Baths suck:

Newsflash, Sarah - I sat in that mud puddle because I LIKE being muddy. I did not need a bath, nor did I want one. And you know what I wanted even less than a bath? Having my picture taken while getting a bath. That was a true asshole move right there. I mean, seriously, Asshole Hall of Fame quality right there. You must be real fucking proud.