Dog on… Mother’s Day

 

On Mother’s Day, I can’t make a fancy card. I can’t cook breakfast in bed. …Oh man, I could take over the world with opposable thumbs!

I candog12‘t take her to the Botanic Gardens, to breakfast in a nice restaurant, or to the movies. …They won’t let me in.

I can’t drag her to the park. …well, I can, but she won’t appreciate it.

I can’t make her a home made card with doilies, crayons, and scissors. …Thumbs! Thumbs!

But I have skills. Mad skills. I can:

  • Wake her with the sound of pre-vomit heaving in the morning.
  • Help her dig in the garden.
  • Pre-clean the dishes in the dishwasher.
  • Empty the garbage one tissue at a time while she’s gone.
  • Get her out for a walk and turn it into a run.
  • Sprinkle dog hair in her food.
  • Share a snack in front of the TV. …using Jedi mind tricks.
  • Keep her company during scary thunderstorms.
  • Lure her to sleep on the couch.
  • Never let her go to the bathroom by herself.
  • Bring her dead carcass presents that I find in the yard. What? She likes homemade gifts!
  • Love her unconditionally.

That last one really clinches it for me.

Did your dog give you something special yesterday?

Happy Mother’s Day to dog moms everywhere!

 

Dog on… 10 worst things no one tells you about having a human

Hey there! Long time no talk. Unless you’re on Facebook. in which you’ve heard from me more than you may wish.

But, I digress.

So, a while back, I saw an article that was bold enough to lay out reasons why living with a dog is over-rated. This littel gem of an article was titled, “12 worst things no one tells you about having a dog.” Here’s the link to it in case you want to check out such filth.

I hate to break it to you, but you humans aren’t a walk in the park either. We love you and all, but dude, living with you can be confusing, stressful, and exhausting. Therefore, in response to said article, I submit the following:

The 10 Worst things No One Tells You About Having A Human

1. Communication

You teach us words in English so that we can understand your rules, but you take very little interest in our language. Look at your furball right now. See that ear twitch? The tongue flick of the lips even though there’s not food around? That slow steady wag?

Well, genius, it all means something. We are communicating with you long before we bark or growl. News flash: Just because you gab on and on to us, doesn’t mean that we aren’t talking back. Sheesh! Narcissistic much?

2. Leash Lunacy

You put a leash on us to walk with us. Really? Really? Because you know so much about dog communication, as I illustrated in the last point, that we can trust you to handle our meet and greets with local dogs? Next time you go to a bar and you get into it with someone, how bout I hold you back and attempt to manage the situation. You know, with my mastery of the English language and all.

And let me just throw something at you…our ears and nose are a gazillion times better (that figure has not been confirmed, but they are definitely better) than yours, but by all means, please hold the leash and be in charge.

Psst! How may times has a bike, runner, or skateboard suprised you on our walks?

I rest my case.

3. Discerning Tastes

We like poop. To eat. You, pretty unanimously, don’t. Tomayto, Tomahto. But you don’t see me stopping you from eating that leafy green thing though it’s of no interest to me, do you? Should we make it our life’s goal to stop you from eating the things we wouldn’t touch if our lives depended on it? P.S. Poop is more natural than that Twinkie in your cupboard.

4. Cleanliness

Let’s be honest, you get a little OCD with the baths and washing of our beds and toys. Just when I’ve gotten them to satisfactory stink level, you wash them, and then they smell… Unnatural. Yuck! And, God forbid, I roll in a dead animal, you know, to relish in it’s deliciousness. I’m sent straight to the bath as if oatmeal lavender smells better than the eau de squirrel I had been rocking minutes prior. A little secret, that Old Spice or Chanel No. 5 is NOT a canine turn on, but we still hang out with you. Most of us have come to even love human stink. I mean, we hang out with you in the bathroom. No. Matter. What. ‘Nuff said.

5. “Gross”

Many of you think we are “gross,” just because, as mentioned above, we eat poop, can throw-up and eat it again, scavenge in the garbage, and roll in dead things.

Yeah, that’s it. (maybe not the strongest point)

6. Two Words… Little People

Need I say more about the walking drunk, toy stealing, hair pulling, attention grabbing little buggers?? One caveat: the ones in high chairs who drop food all the time by accident and on purpose when no one else is looking are all right in my book. We call those “keepers”. But once they are up and running again, the love is lost until they can be useful to throw a ball or something.

7. Sharing

Sharing is not natural, really for either of us, however, we are expected to share or give up everything and anything at a moments notice with no issue whatsoever. On the other had, when I’m using my Jedi mind trick on you while you’re eating, it’s as if I have asked you for your kidney. In fact, you often and randomly take my bowl away just to see if you can. What is all that about? Tit for tat, man.

8. Home Alone

99% of the time, you leave without me! I love cars. I love people. Why would you go somewhere I’m not invited? I don’t visit places you can’t come. Even though it’s called the Dog Beach, we are accepting of all beings. Except cats. Gotta draw the line to cats. Other than the one that lives with a friend of mine. She’s cool, mostly.

9. The Drama of the Hair

You don’t like us to shed our fur. Well, wow, let’s pick something completely our of our control to hate, sound good? We can’t help it. And you vacuuming us, bathing us, or brushing us within an inch of our lives is just plain bat-shit crazy. (no offense to my bat friends)  Chill out peeps.

10. I am who I am

They say dog is man’s best friend, but it seems that you like very little about our natural instincts and actively attempt to train them out of us. People! Dogs eat poop, jump on you, bark, dig, chase, explore the world with their mouth, and lick their privates because we are… spoiler alert… Dogs! We don’t do things to spite you or aim to simply piss you off. It’s not a plot to overturn human rule. We are fine to have you in charge actually. We accept and love you regardless of all of your “warts”, not the least of which is that you have so little hair, walk on two paws, and have opposable thumbs (actually, we envy those the most). How about a little Quid Pro Quo??

So, see? Our relationship isn’t a cake walk on either end, but we cool, right?

Dog on… Pooping Outdoors

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Look, dogs don’t find the subject of poop all that provocative. (Wednesday’s TP word of the day) The truth is that there’s a lot of good info in there if you take a moment to smell it properly. But, I get it. This is one of the many ways we differ from humans, and this is a talking point we’ll have to agree to disagree. So, if this is something you can’t handle, then don’t read this. BUT if there’s a time when you find yourself in a pinch, don’t come cryin’ to me. I have laid down the 411 here.

Dogs have some unique skill sets. Humans have their strengths as well, but outside elimination (Thursday’s TP word) might not be one of them. So, at the risk of oversharing, I jotted down a few thoughts on how to poop outdoors. This might not seem important today, but I remember a certain park incident with the little boy of the family that has haunted my dreams. It was before Memorial Day, a couple years ago, so apparently, the park bathrooms were not yet open.

He had to poop.

Bad. So, thinking on her feet, my human took him to the bushes.

Don’t judge her. He was not going to make it.

But what I witnessed in that five minutes was truly a debacle. Surprising, because he’s so good at peeing outside. In fact, he often prefers it. Even just when he’s playing in the yard. Outside our home. I totally get it. Why go inside when you can go right there, but my human does not see eye to eye with him on this either.    …I digress.

Regardless, I have some constructive criticism for the whole event at the park. I mean, really, there’s a system to a thing like this. You can’t just be willy nilly about it. There’s a lot of mess at risk. Here are my steps for success:

1. Walk back and forth within 6 ft. many times to find the perfect spot. Don’t just plop down anywhere. There’s a method, people!

2. Once you have the spot, circle several times in place to get the perfect angle.

3. Start to push, but then stop and circle the other way until you are in that original spot again.

4. Be sure to arch your back and stick your butt out so as not to get any on you. This is key and was the big miss with the kid. Don’t be surprised if your ears go back. You are pooping in front of the world, you know.

5. When you are done, scrape your feet backwards to kick up dirt and grass. This leaves the world a visual and scented message that you are the one that pooped here. …and you certainly want everyone to know.

5. Finally, speed away with the joy as if having your own post poop party. (Optional)

And that, my friends, is how you do it.

It might not come up a lot, but when it does, you will be glad you printed this out and put it in your wallet for reference. I’m sure of it.

An open letter to Lassie

Dear Lassie:

Seriously???

A cougar? Really???

Saving Timmy from the well? Taking down the bank robber?

Perhaps if you acted like a normal dog – ate poop, dug up things in the backyard, or went garbage picking – those of us living in the real world would have a chance of looking good!

I don’t want to protect anyone from a cougar, or pull them from a well, or save them from an oncoming train. Those things are scary, yo! Plus, It’s too much responsibility to take care of these little people. Let’s be honest, there is something called survival of the fittest! If and when the little ones make poor choices such as wandering so far from home to encounter a cougar, I’m thinking we should assume they simply won’t make it in the world and let nature take it’s course.

I know it sounds harsh, but here’s what happens in the real world when a dog lives with kids:

dog6

 

 

 

Makes your stomach turn a little, huh?

Do I really want to save that? I’m not sold.

So, before you go running home to tell the adults to follow you to the well, think for a moment what you are doing for the average joe who then has to live up to your activities.

Think more Beethoven, Hooch, and Marley. Now those dudes make us look good.

You can pass the word on to your friends, Rin Tin Tin, Benji, and Carl.

Peace out!

 

Dog thoughts on school closure days

dog15Contrary to popular belief, we dogs are not trying to make you humans miserable. Got it? We are dogs, so we do things that come naturally… to dogs.

So, when you have a school closing day due to cold or snow, things get a little hairy. Dogs are home. Kids are home. Other moms appear with their home bound kids, there is cabin fever pouring out of every pore of everyone, and the stuff they call “mommy juice” appears out of nowhere. (no idea what’s in the stuff, but it seems to be a magic potion that makes the mom chill out). Regardless, it’s anarchy.

It seems that you are not sure what to expect from us in these trying times. Here’s a list that might give you a heads up:

1. We will whine to go out. Then when we get out, we’ll whine to get in while holding a paw up in frozen misery. Plan for this to repeat often throughout the day.

2. While we are out, we just might eat snow as if we are a Hoover vacuum. Be aware we’ll have to pee much sooner, thus the repetition of above.

3. When the guest moms and kids come over, we might pee a little in excitement of their arrival. (Maybe because our bladder is full from snow earlier ingested) We probably will act like we don’t realize that we have peed. We might actually not even know we did.

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4. With this many kids’ eating at once, you can bet your bottom dollar that we will wait at the kids’ feet for their predictable droppings. Warning: if you feed them chocolate, we will probably eat the chocolate. Vomiting (or a trip to the emergency room) may or may not occur later. But we are just being dogs, so you can’t be mad.

5. When you try to put booties on to take us outside, we will hold up each paw as a bootie goes on and refuse to put it down. You can only really get two booties on this way sadly. However, we know that you will wrestle get all four on, and we, in turn, will walk like Frankenstein by shaking each paw in an effort to shake them off OR, we may just simply refuse to move. When you rip them off in a fury of frustration and take us out without them, we will undoubtedly, alternate holding each frozen paw up and limp in certain misery.

6. Most importantly, with all the chaos going on, we will probably be incredibly underfoot to get closer to you in an attempt to make sure you have everything under control, which over time, I’m getting the idea, that you do not.

I hope this prepares you in the event of another “snow/cold day” from school. They say that being prepared is half the battle. See? I’m here for you.

Do you all feel me? Did I forget something? Let me know. (in your nicest comment voice please – don’t make me chew on a table leg to self-soothe!)

 

Dog’s 2015 New Year’s Resolutions

As humans have finally gone back to school and work

– and then stay home again for cold weather (for the love of dog) – and then go back again –

I have had time to “paws” and reflect (heh, heh, get it? I love dog humor!) on my New Year’s Resolutions.

So, here they are for 2015, in no particular order:

  • I will increase my Jedi force to get to sleep on the bed more.
  • More Jedi mind tricks for food from the kitchen
  • I will stop chewing and eating inedible items when my peeps are gone (starting now – not counting the army men from yesterday that I threw up in the middle of the night – please, punishment enough)
  • I will stop dragging my ears in my food. (I need a hair net)
  • I will stop licking my junk.
  • I will use my nose powers for good, not for the trash.
  • I will stop eating toilet paper (I tried giving it up for lent with no success)
  • I will not growl when the little one comes by my bone.
  • I will stop excitement peeing.

Wait… just to be clear, New Year’s Resolutions are things that you have no intention of holding on to, right?

If not, I need to revise this list. I’m a dog after all.

#dogoneverything

Dog on… the Polar Vortex

Look, I’m not a huge fan of the hot weather we get here in summer. I have a lot of fur and no actual sweat glands, so it’s not really what I’m suited for, let’s just say. But I also was not meant to live in weather that makes my pee freeze as it exits my body. This weather is actually more for my friends the sled dogs who often live up with Santa and that freak of nature, Rudolph. (He’s a nice guy, but the red nose is kind of blinding when you’re trying to just hang out and chew a bone with him.) I just can’t get behind weather that entails me needing to humiliate myself with booties. I simply won’t wear them, but then when I go outside and my paws literally freeze after a brief jaunt around the yard, it makes me think my ego isn’t serving me.

The other thing this Polar Vortex doesn’t seem to understand is that when it’s 50 degrees below zero, the schools close around here, which means the kids are home all day causing havoc. Remember, I like them and all, but seriously, there is such a thing as too much family time. I take the weekdays to savor in some quiet time with me and my girl. She does work, I sit where I can see her if she moves, we might go for a walk or I go to work with her, I might get a chew stick, etc. It’s our time. Not to mention, she gets a little high strung when the kids are home and can’t go outside. (I say “a little” because she might read this.)

So, Polar Vortex, with all due respect, I’m done. I’m a man of habit and routine, and you have severely messed with all of that. Please move on and don’t drag behind you the hottest summer we’ve ever experienced. What would they call that? The Solar Misery?

 

Dog on… Sniffing

Humans may be the most evolved species on the planet, but its a well-known fact that a dog’s nose is 100,000 (or something) times more sensitive and accurate than a human’s. Today was one of those days that put my humans to shame. And I relished in it.

I walked into the kitchen and found the two of them sniffing the air with no skill or technique.  They were attempting to find a scent they were picking up periodically. I could have told them where it was coming from, but there are so few moments of superiority that I get, so I thought I’d sit back and watch the circus.

He walked into the room and she asked, “does it smell like cat urine in here?”

“No,” he replied with a chuckle.  Then he set to making sandwiches for the little ones, when suddenly he stopped and said, “Wait! I think I smell it.”  Pause. Sniff.  “Now it’s gone.”

He crossed the kitchen to get a bag.

She said, “It’s over here now. Wait! Is it you? I smell it when you walk by and stir up a breeze.”

“Really?!?” He lifts up his sweater, sniffs it and then sniffs his armpit awkwardly. “Nope. I don’t think it’s me. Plus, no one peed on me to or from work.  Not cat or human.”

She giggled. There’s a quiet pause and then-

“Smell my jeans. Is it them?” She does and comes up shaking her head. He whispers, “I don’t mean to be weird, but smell my jeans crotch. Really get in there. Make sure it’s not that.”

She glances at him and sniffs up close and personal.  She seems so awkward which makes me laugh because that’s just proper etiquette in the land of dogs. To do anything else would just be rude.

“Nope. Nothing. Were you worried you peed yourself?”

“Shut up! No! Just making sure there was no spray that had lingered or something. Geez!”

She looks at him for a moment as if calculating the risks and benefits of her next sentence, then she says, “Smell my jeans just to be sure it’s not me. Crotch and all,”

He does and comes up shaking his head. “Nope.”

She said, “Hmmm. Ok then. Smell the kids. Maybe its them.”

He picks each one up into the air and sniffs them up and down while they scream, “Hey! What are you doing, Dad?!?”

As he returns them to the ground, “Nope. Neither one.”

They go back to what they were doing in the kitchen in silence clearly perplexed. Then she says, “When we get to my parents, let’s be sure to ask them if we smell like urine.”

“Will do.”

And that was it. Inside, I was cracking up to see them failing at the task of doing something as simple as finding a scent that was so obviously…

I’ll never tell! Any guesses?

Dog on… Snowpeople

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Ever since the movie Frozen came out, I know that snowmen have been fairly popular.  I’m hoping this doesn’t become an epidemic like bunnies at Easter or Dalmatians after the 101 Dalmatians movie came out. That movie did nothing for my friends with spots except create a demand that couldn’t be maintained without some breeding that likely involved family members getting way too close for comfort.  I’ve got some friends who can’t even hear that movie’s name without ending up in a ball in the corner of the room.

That said, I think it’s what is happening to snowmen all over town. Since the movie came out, they are everywhere and expected to walk, talk, and save the day.  

The reality of a snowman is much more tragic.  I mean, they start as hope and a vision after freshly fallen snow. But things get pretty dark, pretty fast when the sun comes out and the temp toys with numbers over 32 degrees.  Someone should do a documentary about that and open some eyes. 

Anyway, I bring it up because, frankly, they creep me out.  Their eyes are always dead. Vacant, you know? They’re smiling a smile that doesn’t seem genuine.  It’s like they have been captured and turned into Stepford snowpeople. 

I’ll tell you a secret:

You know how humans go cow tipping in rural areas?  

Well, I like to do what I call “pee bombing” to our snow companions.  What is this you ask? Well, it’s when you find a snowman, and when they aren’t looking, you run up and lift a leg (or not, in my case, but that for another post) and pee on them. Craziest thing is that

That's what I'm talkin' about!

That’s what I’m talkin’ about!

humans actually find this quite funny, and you don’t get in trouble the way you would if you did that indoors.  It leaves a yellow streak on their bottom ball. (Heehee. That’s a funny sentence all around.) If you run into another dog, and you get into a turf war, the snowman can start to get pretty thin. 

I admit it’s a little low-brow humor, but this winter has made me a little batty. One takes what they can get. We’ve had a couple snowmen in our yard this year, and we’ve silently agreed to co-exist. It’s the best I can do. 

Post a picture of your Snowpeople from your yard on my Facebook page. Even better, a dog peeing on them. I can’t be alone in my distrust.  …At the very least share this if you deem it shareable! 

Dog on… Elf on the Shelf

Have you all heard about the Elf on the Shelf?!?  It’s this guy – well, hundreds of thousands of little guys who come down from the North Pole every year like cicadas… Or invasion of the body snatchers or something.  Not only do they come down to visit, they go back every night with a report to Santa about the kids in their assigned houses.  Have you ever heard of Big Brother?  Well, that shit just became real!

Hiding in the Nativity scene.  Despicable!

Hiding in the Nativity scene. Despicable!

They make the kids feel all empowered because they let them name them, but I think that’s just a ploy to get them to let their guard down. ‘Cause I’ll tell you what, even though they look like dolls, it’s their eyes that will send a shiver down your spine. I mean, no matter where they are in the house, they seem to be watching me. The humans clearly don’t notice, but when they all leave for the day, it’s just me and the little guy, and he’s watching. Always watching.

Periodically throughout the day, I’ll switch rooms to see if he noticed. He does, and he looks at me with that disapproving stare like he knows I’m working my way to the toilet paper room when the door is left open. Now, I don’t know whether or not reports go back about me, the family dog, but I’m not taking chances with the SSA (Santa Spy Agency). I’m on my best behavior. Mostly.

The craziest thing is that when he comes back after a night of snitching to Santa and probably talking smack with his friends about families across the world, he is in a different place the next day. The kids love trying to find him each morning, but I just want to say, “I know where you’ve been! The humans might fall for this cutesy smile and red unitards, but I’m on to you little drone!” I don’t, of course, because it would be unwise to anger the little gnome-like creature.

I have one concerning question though, “is Santa cloning up there at the North Pole?  And is that legal?” Seems to me that Santa may have gone off the reservation with these guys.