Dog on… Addiction

Hi. I’m Dog, and I’m a toilet paper-aholic.

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It all started started after my Golden Retriever sister passed over the rainbow bridge.  She was my favorite, and I loved her with my whole heart… as long as she didn’t look at my chew bones.

Left to navigate the house and family on my own, I found myself drawn to a nice, new roll of toilet paper freshly out on the dispenser.  Oh man, it smelled good.  I started out being satisfied with just the joy of pulling one end of the roll until it all unraveled across the floor.  If you’ve never tried this, don’t start.  There’s something about it that just makes you lose your mind.

My human thought it was funny at first.  It was the second or third time that seemed to lose its luster with them. Even when they saw the joy it brought me, they were not amused or enlightened.

I tried to stop.  Every time they walked in, and I saw the toilet paper strewn across the floor, I knew there would be trouble for me.  The problem was that it just felt so good to do it in the moment.  I couldn’t get myself to stop.  After a while, when I would see the toilet paper on the floor and could predict the impending doom, I did what only made sense.  I made it disappear.  I had escalated to full ingestion.

It tasted so good going down.  That’s the thing.  I couldn’t stop even after my first bout of… well, let’s just say, it didn’t come out as easily as it went in.  In fact, my obsession got worse until I hit rock bottom.  It got stuck, and my human had to… um… assist me with it’s evacuation.

There’s nothing more humiliating than that, I assure you.

It takes a household to deal with a problem, and I had to rely on my humans to manage the situation by closing the doors and putting up gates.  This seemed to eliminate the temptation until recently. They’d left the door open, and I told myself I could just take a sniff.  That small inhalation was the gateway to disaster, and the addiction was full-blown again.  This time when they put the toilet paper where I couldn’t reach it, I found myself digging in the garbage for the smallest and sweetest morsel of my beloved vice.

Seeing yourself with your head in the garbage is enough to stop you in your tracks. Ask this guy.  He joined my GA (Garbage Anonymous) group just after that video was made.  He makes me look tame.

Regardless, I’m back on track and working the program.  You know, it’s not easy to battle your demons, but it’s equally difficult to get to “meetings” without a car… or opposable thumbs.

Dog on… Twitter

I have officially entered the world of social media today because my human announced me on her Facebook page.  She thinks she’s all that, but I’m out to beat her in Likes on Facebook and Follows on Twitter.  It’s on baby!  (we like healthy competition in our family, but that’s for another post!)

I’m really just getting in the Twitter groove, but I’m a little offended at it’s racial preference toward the aviary community.  I mean, how many bird blogs are there?  Well, I actually don’t know the answer to that, but I’m googling it as soon as I finish this.  I suppose a really thorough journalist would get those stats before making a claim in a blog post.  (Note to self: work on your research)

Anyhoo, I can’t really stomach the idea of tweeting when it makes so much more sense to woof.  Thus, I hereby declare that “woofs are the new tweets”!  Me and my less than 20 followers are calling it a trend.

Here goes:  #woofsarethenewtweets

Is it trending yet?

… how ’bout now?

…?

I can wait.  I don’t have a schedule to keep. I can sit here all day.

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…hmmm.  This Twitter thing is trickier than I thought.

Dog on… Yoga

I love me some yoga.  As you would imagine, I can “up dog” and “down dog” with a serious flair.  I don’t even mind “cow pose”, but I have to draw the line at that “cat pose”.  It’s not that I don’t like cats, it’s just, I don’t need to try to emulate them.  It’s what I like to call, integrity, people.

It’s funny though, my human seems to love it too, but often seems to be having such trouble with it at the same time.  She gets out of breath pretty regularly. I stay close when she gets worked up, just in case. Ironically (last Thursday’s TP word – not sure I’m using it right), it seems to be what she likes about it.  Go figure.  

Yoga’s downside?  It’s hot. There’s sweating involved and this is where dogs and humans divide.  

When dogs sweat, we do so without all the mess that humans seem to produce. The pant is a much more civilized way to weather the heat as far as I’m concerned. The pouring of water from the skin just seems downright weird. You know?

Just another bonus to having fur. 

And my girl does sweat. A lot. But I’m torn, because it’s part creepy, and part delicious.  

Don’t judge.   

Dog on… Daylight Savings Time

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I like to sleep. It’s in my genetics. I exert energy in fits and starts.
I’m not a runner, but I sure love a steady walk followed by a good nap.
So, when I heard my humans talking about daylight savings time and how we would “gain an hour of sleep”, I was psyched. That, my friends, is right in my wheelhouse.

Here’s what I didn’t factor in… It appears that the little humans in the house don’t have a clue. I mean, I hear they can’t tell time, but really, is that such an excuse? I can’t either, but it doesn’t take a genius to look up and see that no one is up yet.

But, they are up, so the big humans are up and, therefore, I’m up because I can’t sleep and stalk at the same time. Well, I mastered sleeping with one eye open, but that’s for another post.

Anyway, the little ones were up and the big ones weren’t too happy about that so, it was just a real tumultuous (Wednesday’s TP word) way to start a Sunday.

So, I’m two paws down on Daylight Savings time for now.

Dog on… Work

I don’t work myself. Unless you consider going out to the yard and actively ignoring rabbits and squirrels work.

I do, however, go to my person’s work.  Actually being there is work for me.

When I get there, I have to go upstairs to find my toy, then down stairs to show it around. Then it’s back upstairs for a good pet and look out the window.  Then is back downstairs to be sure no one has come in who hasn’t seen my toy yet.  (It’s a great toy).  I also have to get them to pet me.  It’s for their own good.  Lunch isn’t even a break since I have to work my Jedi mind trick on them.  No rest for the wicked, you know.  Often, I have to lay in the middle of the room and grumble until someone notices.

Its exhausting!  There must be a better way to spend our time.  By the time we get back in the car, I have to sleep the whole way home with a few glances out the window so I can sleep even better in my bed at home.

It ain’t easy being Dog.