Goldilocks and the Visitors

Okay, I'll be the first to admit that I'm a timid pooch. Pretty happy-go-lucky and playful most of the time, but I'm not super fond of strangers petting me vigorously on the head. Despite the endless "training" I still back away when I see a hand coming over my head to give me an "atta boy" pat on my curly noggin.

But for a week, I have been, as best as I can describe it, man-handled. Apparently this was training too, in preparation for a visit from Keenan and her pack of humans -- Jane and Monica. Monica's not so bad. She gives me space and when I'm ready, I weave myself in and out of her legs while she scratches my back and rubs behind my ears.

But JANE...she comes at me full force and even when I show signs of caution -- back away, run the other direction, or give a little bark -- she scoops me up and holds me like a sack of potatoes. Everyone thinks it's so cute, so cute in fact they try to take endless pictures of us together, but it never quite works out to be very photogenic. They say I don't hold still, but Jesus, what's a dog to do when all 35 pounds of you is swept off the floor, hurled into the air, and squeezed with such enthusiasm it feels like your breath is leaving your body for good?

As you can see from the above photo, what a dog does, what THIS dog does is tolerate it. They think I like it. They think my following Jane around after she's coddled me so is a sure sign I want to be hoisted and squeezed one more time, but I'm just keeping her in my sights. I don't want any back end attacks!

This time, after the endless hugs and the multiple attempts at photos, after all the hoisting and cuddling any one dog can stand, Jane and Monica went on their way leaving their dog, Keenan, at our house.

I like Keenan. I like older women. She's ten and very mellow and pretty much spends her days sleeping though she does enjoy a nice walk and a fun game of fetch only if the ball is thrown less than 30 feet away. I've been super nice to Keenan. I've shared my food, my bed, and the affection of my family with her and I've gotta say, it's been nice having her around.

Until...

...what's this? Has someone been reading my book?

Has someone been sleeping on the forbidden couch?

I'm beginning to pick up a bit of a double standard here. I get swept up in a flurry of energetic adoration while Keenan walks around (on all fours, I might add) with my toy in her mouth singing throughout the house. I am forbidden on the furniture and yet here's Keenan making herself at home on the couch and with my library!

Wait just one minute! For some reason, this doesn't seem fair and when I protest even the slightest, I get the lecture on how fair doesn't mean equal, how sharing is a sign of hospitality, how house guests have more advantages than those of us loyal enough to stay here 24-7!

I am a gentleman, though. I do not let the inequities ruffle my golden locks. I temper my behavior in front of our friends -- human and canine alike. I move out of the way when Keenan wants my bed. I move out of the way when I am offered a treat so Keenan gave have the first bite. I hand over my beloved toys and chew sticks when I am ordered, but underneath it all, I am biting my lip in swells of frustration.

"This is breedist!" I want to bark. "This is ageist!" I want to howl. Preferential treatment goes against the basic tenet of doggie manners. Do I love one parent more than the other? Do I scoff at which of them walks me? Do I turn up my nose when I am forced to sleep on one side of the bed and not the other, or even worse, forced to sleep back on the cold floor in the dead of night?

NO! I am a perfect gentleman -- happy-go-lucky and playful, adoring and kind -- but next time a visitor comes to stay in this house, I want to lay down a few ground rules first.

Do you hear me?

My friend

I know I've written about my best friend, Monty before, but recently, he's been on my mind.

He hurt his front left shoulder recently and is on "bed rest" for two weeks. He can swim next week, but no fetch, no chase, and no wrestling. During the week, when his mom is at work, he comes to visit our house. Generally we romp around the backyard or play at the big field in the park, but with his recent injury, we just have to "stay calm"... those are the words everyone uses.

So we lie around a lot. Monty gets a massage and I lie as close as I can get. I think it relaxes him. Sometimes we watch TV -- The Dog Whisperer or It's Me or the Dog or a basketball game. Other times Monty stretches out to indicate other areas that would like to be massaged and I watch.

It's hard when your best friend can't play as hard as you'd like. Soon though. At least, that's what they tell me. Soon.

Summertime and the living is easy...

All summer long (well, the past few weeks) I've been trying to learn to dive into water. Today I succeeded and we got it on video. Here we are at Doris and Steven's pool. Doris is tossing the ball for me, Momma G is filming me with her camera and doing that wheezy laugh of hers, and Momma A is floating on the air mattress in the pool. Sometimes I dive, sometimes I slither in, but no matter. It is so much fun I don't even mind wearing my silly, bothersome life jacket.



Oh, and the dog running crazy in the background and barking at me is Ben. He's a good guy, but kind of nervous. He doesn't like people in the pool and he doesn't like ME in the pool because I get his tennis balls out of the water. He's afraid to go swimming in the pool though he will swim in the lake.


This is Doris and Steven. They are good friends and we made them pose by their wheelbarrow of flowers and lettuce. Yes, that's a typical thing Doris will do -- plant flowers and lettuce in the same bed. Her lettuce is beautiful. Hell, her whole garden is amazing, but the wheelbarrow is so Doris we had to have them pose there. They're so cute. I particularly like Steven. I don't let many people pet the top of my head, but Steven can pet me anywhere. He's a really good guy.


Finally, this is a picture of our neighbors. Antonio (on the left) and his wife Sequoia have a dog name Oshi and now a new dog who is as yet, unnamed, though I'm voting for Ramon. I like to roll my "r's" and Ramon kind of fits him. Aldo is the man in the background and he lives in the basement apartment of their house. He's a great cook and made me some flank steak the other night. Well, he made it for Momma A, but she shared some with me. Yum.

All this activity today has made me famished. I think I'll go lie by my bowl and stare like a beggar at Momma G. She'll feel compelled.

I am a very smart dog!

Doggie Disneyland

It's hot. 80 degrees may not feel hot in some parts of the world, but in this part, it's hot. So when Mom leashed me up and we walked up the street to get Monty (my best friend), I got excited. When she piled us into the back of the car, I could hardly contain my joy. We were going somewhere fun and hopefully somewhere cool!

I was not disappointed. 15 miles away is Doggie Disneyland -- 44 acres and one big long river of doggie nirvana. Tall grass, winding paths, a bunch of other dogs, intriguing smells that go on for miles and miles -- and the river, the nice cool, wet river that meanders by slowly and refreshingly.

But it was hot and as the video shows, while I was willing to play "rough," Monty was a bit hot and couldn't sustain a long romp until he cooled off in the river.

We met lots of friends on the shore of that river. Monty and I swam together sometimes and other times we swam with new friends. Monty met a few dogs bigger than he is
and I found a nice patch of tall grass in which to scratch my belly.
I'm exhausted now, stretched out under the cool breeze finding its way through the window, dictating this post to my mom. Monty is lying outside in the shade and will soon go back to his house, but even he agrees a fun time was had by all!

On the farm

We had a busy weekend. They call it the Fourth of July and while I've lived through one before, I can't quite remember it. This one I will remember. Not because I got to see the fireworks that were thankfully far, far away, but because I got to see my relatives -- my aunt, uncle, and cousins -- down on their farm.

We did many things, but among my favorites were these:

1. Playing with Ringo. While Hope is also my cousin (and Lindsey, too), Ringo is, by far, the coolest cousin. He chased me around the yard, through the garden, and helped me cough up as much dusty dirt as I could. He even taught me how to jump on juniper bushes to hunt down squirrels. It was a blast.

2) Hanging out with my Aunt Patti and Uncle Paul. We went every where together and when they weren't around, I went searching for them. Below is a picture of me with them at the local Farmer's Market. It was cool to hang out with them because they bought me things -- like fresh jerky -- and let me rub up against them for lots and lots of pets. We also went to their friends' house and I got to play with Ramsey, a big bad boy of a dog. He makes me look like a gem of a puppy. We chased each other and played fetch by the vineyard.


3) The food tastes better. I know it's just my food, but sometimes Aunt Patti would sneak in Ringo's food and that was the best ever. Ringo eats really fast, but they make sure he doesn't hoover mine like he hoovers his. I'm a more delicate and particular eater, but since Ringo is older, he doesn't really listen to my way of doing things. Still, the food tastes homemade and fresh. It must be the farm air.

4) Playing farmer. Okay, I didn't get to go on the tractor, but I got to sit in the bucket (above phot0) and pose with my moms who DID get to drive the tractor. It was cool to watch, though it made me nervous and I whined a bit.

5) The cat, Simon. Simon likes to hang out under the cars parked in the driveway. And I like to sniff him out and chase around the car like a madman. This doesn't please the family, but sometimes a guy's gotta do what a guy's gotta do. Instincts are hard to fight. But Simon's cool. He only hissed at me and try as I might, I couldn't get him to run, which would have been even more fun. If I got too close, he swatted a big old paw at me, but I howled like I'd been hit by a truck and that sent every human into immediate action. Nary a scar on me, I could get everyone to chase me around the car while I barked and woofed and whined for Simon to just run...even a little bit. But no go. Still, Simon's a cool dude

We had a fun time this Fourth of July. It's always is a good time for me when I get to hang out with family. This city dog loves to play country pooch whenever he can. Of course, I had to get a brushing and a bath when I got home, but still it was worth every moment!