My Life Under the Desk

While this picture is old (or at least shows me in my younger years), it represents how my days are spent when I am a "working dog" hanging out under my mom's desk at school. It's not all I do, but lets just say, I don't have free rein in the classroom.

I read with students, which is fun, but does require me lying down; I wander around following my mom doing errands, teaching, and visiting the copy machine; and on occasion, I sniff around the room and eventually snuggle up by some student's feet and fall asleep.

But there are times during the day when sleeping under my mom's desk is exactly what I need. No one accidentally steps on my tail, I don't fall victim to dropped goodies -- cookies, candy, or colored pencils -- and frankly, in-line with my innate nature to seek out caves like my wolf ancestors, I get to feel more comfortable with a roof over my head.

It's an exhausting life really, though no one has any sympathy for me since I am surrounded by girls who pet me incessantly or play tug with me when I'm bored or find my ball when I nose it under the file cabinets. Still think about it for a minute: This is my pack and I must stay diligent in protecting them from intruders. Some of the "flock" stray and I must alert the "authorities" that someone is lagging behind or racing ahead. Running in the halls, screaming with delight, and even the occasional argument all need my attention.

And I am attentive. So attentive, in fact, that after a full day at school, I am bushed. Completely. Totally. Bushed.

The Poser

We went to the river this weekend. A long car ride followed by a romp around the cabin smelling all the animal life that had passed since my last visit (a year ago). It was warm and sunny and I felt compelled to pose on the bench by the river. No prompting, no commands, just the desire to be higher up, posing. If you click on the picture you'll see the perfection of this picture is marred by a pine needle on my whiskers!

And then the shot by the river. I was desperately waiting for someone to fetch my blue ball that had dropped over the embankment, through a snow patch and lodged itself next to a rock. I was unable to wiggle it free so by posing stoically by the edge of the river, I knew I'd get someone's attention some time soon. It worked.

Finally today...they ate lunch and I cooled myself on a mound of snow. We'd hiked in the heat and my belly on the chill of white was a perfect way to end a perfect weekend.

If you look closely, you can see my blue ball at my chest between my legs. I never travel without it!

The Games We Play

I know I'm a lucky dog. I have lots and lots of great toys. They're kept in a woven basket in the family room. I ignore them most days, but every once in awhile, a toy calls to me.

And so I dig.

Inevitably, the toy calling is at the bottom of the basket and though its scent is strong, I must work very hard to find it.

I bury my head in the basket, locate the specific toy, and then toss out the ones in the way.

This can take quite awhile and though my moms are intent on watching the NCAA Women's Final Four Basketball game, I dig and sniff and dig and toss until I find the exact toy I want.


Occasionally, I lift my head to take a breath. It's hard work though it may not look like it. My moms aren't really any help. They just sit on the couch, watch the game, and throw out some encouraging words like, "Good dog" or "Keep digging, fella!"

But finding the toy is up to me and me alone. It's Zen in a way. Sole focus, in the now, dogged determination...(a puppy pun that is!)...and eventually, eventually I get to the bottom of that basket to find my nemesis...the toy calling my name.


This time it was a bone, one my best friend Monty had chewed on the night before. His scent was still on it and, in fact, it was his scent that knew my name.

Oh, the games we play.

Humiliation

We played hard. Really hard. We ran, chased each other, swam, fetched, and slid in the water and mud. We were very dirty.

They didn't take any pictures of the fun. Only the humiliation.

Monty went first. I felt for him

Then I went, but no pictures of me. I refused to sign the release form. I bet Monty will refuse the next time.

Don't let the human smiles fool you...

Happy Birthday To Me!

(Me with Momma G last week on our ski trip...when I was younger!)

It's been a day. A very long day, which actually started last night when Monty, Buffy, Misty and I played fetch in the big field in the dark, our glow in the dark balls blinking back and forth across the soccer green. That wiped me out. I slept long and hard and dreamt with whimpers and moans.

Then this morning, my one-year birthday morning, and I'm stiff and achy and my stomach hurt. Still, we got up. They had breakfast, I didn't. Too queasy. I think I had a puppy hangover.

We went to work, though and once there, I threw up on the classroom floor.

Twice.

It wasn't looking very good for my birthday.

Oh, and I had a limp in my back left leg. Not sure why, but it hurts and there are times when all I want to do is lick it.

That's when I get sprayed with bitter apple...

...on a queasy stomach. Blech.

But then the students came and the whole school sang me happy birthday and everyone rubbed me and smiled at me until my tail just about wagged itself off.

That wasn't the end of it, though. Everyone -- all 19 students -- came to my house for a birthday celebration of brownies and ice cream. I almost got a brownie when one fell on the floor, but I wasn't quick enough though I did get to lick up the small dribble of ice cream.

I got presents, too. Two rubbery balls -- one blue and one green -- to dog biscuits, a doggie donut with blue frosting (I'm not allowed to eat it until tomorrow), a chewy, and a small rubber chicken to replace the one I ripped up a month ago.

It's been a day. A good day. A very good day.

Off Leash

We spent four days in the Methow Valley in Eastern Washington. It was a long drive there and a long drive home, but in between we skied and ate and slept and skied some more.

First photo: Ann skis behind me while I race up ahead to Gretchen who is snapping photos of my happy face.

Second Photo: In Gretchen's continuous snapping of photos, she got some silly shots of me as a I raced, in my slick black booties, over the snow and skidded to a stop. My moms decided my nickname was Kramer like the guy from Seinfeld because I skated at every turn and stop.











Third Photo: A brief rest on a late afternoon with the setting sun bouncing off Goat Mountain in the background. That night we saw a Lunar Eclipse.

I am still tired today, but it was the best vacation yet!

Snow Dog Part One

We went skiing on Friday. We played hooky. It was a blast. Here I am with Momma Ann. I'm teaching her to cock her head. Next, I'm showing how versatile I am -- I can cock my head either way. And finally, after we got home...I needed a rest. Skiing is hard work.

But there is more to come. We leave Wednesday morning, "bright and early" I was told, for a long drive and then four days of skiing east of the mountains (whatever that means!). I'm looking forward to it though it required new booties and I hate those things.

Today I romped with Monty at the park. He chased me. And yesterday I was chased by 7 dogs at the dog romp in Woodinville. I'm tired so now I'm sleeping next to momma Ann who is tired, too. She's on the couch. I'm not.

It's been a big weekend, now that I think about it. Uncle Paul and Aunt Patti came for a visit and we had a great time going to the public market, playing ball on the steps, and then they let me sleep in their bed. I was sad when they left, but then it was okay as I got to go to the dog romp and be chased and play fetch.

Tonight, it's my last agility class. That's partly why I need to sleep now because agility really takes concentration and effort. Maybe I'll have pictures to show for my next blog.

It's a busy life, but as Becky the trainer said yesterday, "If you want to liven up a party, bring a doodle." That's me...the life of the party!