Birthday Weekend

What a weekend!  My human's mother had a birthday - I can't BELIEVE how long they live! Woof, in dog years she'd be way over 600 years old!  Woof Dah! Anyway, there was a big party for her, and I wasn't invited!  Still, I have to say that, although it is always a trial to be separated from my human for several hours, I really didn't want to be at that party.

We had ten people staying at our house during the weekend and that involved navigating among quite enough feet, shoes, and legs. It would have been worse at the party.  Dodging here and dodging there, always on the lookout for a big foot descending to squash you isn't exactly restful. 

Still, extra people and an extra dog in the house did make for an exciting weekend.  Nothing like a change of routine to invigorate a body. I was so invigorated I collapsed into an hours long nap after they left. And what a glorious bonanza of treats and sweets to be found.  Don't see that kind of variety when we don't have a houseful of people!

In a way, I do feel I should have braved the party, though.  My human's mom is a great lady.  I see her many times a week.  When we take a break from the job, we often go to her apartment for a couple of minutes.  It's a wonderful place to go.

I like how she sits with her legs crossed and her foot just high enough off the floor so I can stand under it.  The she visits and moves her foot so it scratches my back. She sweet talks me and usually gives me a treat.  I really like the small piece of summer sausage that she often finds for me -- and sometimes she sneaks a morsel of chocolate to me, as well! 

Yes, I should have gone to the party to help celebrate her birthday, but it wasn't my decision to make. Anyway, she's nice and she understands a dog's life.

No Rest for the Weekend

You ever have one of those weekends where you can't wait to get back to work so you can get some rest? 

Well, as you probably know I go to work during the week with my human.  She works in an office and I am stationed under her desk, ever wary, of course, for people who may get too close to my human.  I spend the day protecting her.  Many days it isn't terribly restful, yet it will seem blissfully calm after this weekend. 

My human and the other person who lives here decided to do some carpentry on Saturday, and the project ran into Sunday.  I don't think they're very good at it, but they make a lot of noise - hammers, saws, pounding things, wrecking things.  I saw them tear down a wall this time!  It never seems like much of an improvement when they do one of their "projects," but the noise they make, why, you can't get away from it!  And you don't want to get in the way, when they get going with something like this, squashed underfoot or bonked with falling debris are definite possiblities.  It was awful, but by Sunday evening the humans ran out of steam or maybe just gave up.  Anyway, they settled down to a quiet Sunday evening with books or movies or something.

Thing is, with the door open to carry the wreckage out, a couple of stinkin' flies came in.  I just hate those critters!  They like to buzz around your ears, you know, and it drives me crazy!  So when I might have had a chance to rest this evening, I had to be chasing flies.

As if that wasn't enough, the church across the street had an "Underground Church" youth activity this evening.  That's where the kids try to get from Point A to Point B without getting caught.  Point B, their destination, was the church across the street from us.  Well, I had to keep my eyes and ears open, so I could bark at goofy kids running and sneaking around in our yard trying to get to the church without being caught.

The kiddies were done early, the humans were done in even earlier, and the flies finally settled down, too.  So now I can get a little rest.

But, woof dah!  It'll be good to get back to work!

Back to Sunbeamin'

Hey!  Yah!

We've had so many days of overcast skies or rain.  So many!  But today we have beautiful sunshine coming in through the window, and I'm home for the morning.  We don't go to work until afternoon, so I'm a sunbeam dog again! 

Oh, how great!  Sun shining in through my window. Just layin' around in the sunshine, warming my increasingly hairless body, which needs a little warming

Oh, did I tell you - my person has been asking me if I'm trying to become a Chihuahua.  Imagine that!  Okay, so clumps of hair are dropping out.  My person brushes out piles of hair and still finds clumps around the house.  That doesn't mean I'll shed down to bare skin like one of the humans in this house did.  (And then left it at that and didn't grown a replacement!)

On the contrary, I'm clearing space for my new winter coat.  It'll be here soon, but most likely it'll be later than comfort would dictate, as usual.  I'm not worried, though, as my person has a "doggie bag" she stuffs me to keep me warm, and when all else fails I get to share her coat, stuffed in right next to her.

WoofDah!  It's a dog's life!

I am still getting my walks twice a day. Some times my human forgets about me and we are late in going. However, he finally remembers me and we are off.
The weather is changing and it has been raining a lot. I do not mind the rain and getting wet, but when get back to the store those other humans always tell me I look awful. The hamburger guy told me I look like a drowned rat; the other one told me I was a dirty and a mess. Hey, I had fun and they still gave me my treat. You never know what you can beg from those humans. It is usually very good. I don’t turn many of their yummies down.
But then my favorite human takes a towel to me and I DON’T LIKE THAT!
What’s the deal? I will dry off eventually. All the humans tell me my hair is great after a rainy walk. I don’t think I have heard them say anything about my human’s hair.
I have found some new friends at work. They are good for many good pets. I love being petted. I really like little people. Some of them are scared of me. But I promise to be a good girl. I think they will become my friends.
I don’t see one human often. But when he comes I have to go to the apartment. He really likes me but I wish I didn’t have to go in there. Maybe I will mature and the humans will let me stay in the warehouse. I don’t know maybe it might be another belly scratch.

Champion? Best in Show? Are you kidding me?

It has been a tough couple of weeks. Razor returned from his latest tour, something about participating in dog shows, and he seemed even more full of himself then normal. I did not think it was possible. We all thought it was Razor being Razor, but then our world was rocked. On the refrigerator was a nice big picture of Razor from his latest competition standing next to a placard for Best in Show. Good grief, we all thought it was crazy for him to take 1st place in his breed, but Best in Show? Ugggh. I don't know if Rowdy, Blu and I are going to be able to take it!

-Bear

Talk About Me Like a Dog

My human had the TV turned on and I heard the President of the United States say, "They talk about me like a dog." It sounded like he didn't like it. What did he mean anyway?

People talk about me like a dog all the time. Right in front of me, as though they think I can't understand. Like anyone else, I don't like being talked about in my presence as if I wasn't there. That part is irritating. But the president didn't say they talk about him as if he wasn't there; he said they talk about me like I'm a dog.

When people talk about me, they say things like, "Oh, she's so cute. What kind is she? Oh, isn't she just sweet? She's so pretty." Who could object to that? Also, it's difficult for me to imagine people are saying the president is cute, sweet, or pretty. No, that can't be it.

My human answers the comments about me with things like, "Thank you, she's a Pom. She's spoiled. My baby. Don't try to touch her, she's waaay protective and will growl and snap." Do you think they're saying the president is spoiled, a baby, and will growl and snap? Hmmm, maybe but seems to me, if anything, the "dog" comment was more about whining. I hardly ever do that, but some dogs do, I guess.

I wonder -- How does the president and his family talk about their dog, Bo? Must not be good if it makes the president unhappy to be talked about like a dog.

I may not have my own airplane like Bo, but my human talks nice to me and about me. I'm her little darling -- that's better than having a plane (I think).

Cabin in the Woods

On Sunday afternoon, Spook and I and our humans drove out to our cabin in the woods. It was quite cool and misty so they said the mosquitoes would be damped down, but when we got there mosquitoes greeted us as soon as my human opened the door. Didn't bother me much, and it seemed the humans were okay with it, too, so I guess the skeets were mostly damped down.

Even so, this trip was short and not-so-sweet. At least not sweet for Spook and me. Our peeps had brought pistols and targets and I guess they had fun, but Spooks and I HATE the shooting. It hurts our ears so we hide in the truck or the camper. Our peeps wear ear protection so it doesn't seem to bother their ears.

We soon came home again, but not soon enough for us canine types. Still, we don't want to be left home, so next time they take their guns and shooting paraphernalia, we'll be ready to go.

MacDonalds

On Saturday, Spooky and I and our humans made a trip to Grand Forks. On the way we made a quick stop at Sherack to take some pictures. Not much there but a couple old grain elevators and a house. I'm guessing three people may be the entire population of the burg.

So why did they want pictures of the little bump in the road? They were talking about a poem my person had written back in about 1998. That's waaay before I was born! Anyway, it seems they wanted photos to go with that poem. Silliness. If it doesn't feed you, pet you, or let you out, well, in my opinion, it isn't good for much.

After they got their photos, we went on to Grand Forks where they go in and out of buildings like chickens. Spook and I get to sit in the vehicle whenever the peeps decide to go into a building. There is only one store they take us into in GF -- it's the one where they get collars, leashes, and such -- oh, and usually some exotic treats we've never seen before. That's fun! There are other customers with dogs and pets, so it can be exciting. And the things to smell! That is heavenly.

But this trip, they didn't stop at that store, so Spook and I spent the time in the truck. It was fun, though. The weather was just right for it - not too hot and not too cold. While our humans go into buildings, we canines check out all the people going to and fro and bark them away from our truck. Our humans have no idea how hard we work at that while they go trippin' around like they haven't a care in the world. Well, they always have a pat and a few words for us when they get back. Never a thank you, though, I've noticed. Oh, well, we do enjoy the job.

I get so nervous when we get to GF, because I just want to go to McDonalds. They always make me wait and wait. I was sure this time they had forgotten, but finally they stopped at McDonalds for me. Spook isn't very interested in Macs, so when they go there, it is just for me! Makes me feel so special, not to mention full of lip smackin' Macs. Ah, yes, worth the trip!

On the road... Again

Well Razor is on another tour, and I am worried that he is going to return with a serious attitude. He is spending his week in Fargo and then onto another dog show in Bismark. We thought it was bad when he got back from Duluth with a 1st place finish (3rd overall), but any more of this and he will be completely unBearable! It isn't all bad, with the "big dog" out of the picture, Rowdy, Blu and myself are able to stay in the house. The A/C is pretty sweet when it is hot and humid, plus we seem to get more opportunities for a snack or two. Best of all, we are all able to pile on top of the family when they are watching the picture box, I think they call it a TV.

-Bear

I Want My Own Plane

Hey, guys, did you see on the news that Bo got to go to Maine on vacation with his family? The family, of course, is the First Family of the land. Did you notice the poor thing is named Bo, which are the initials of Barak Obama? Using that naming system, I'd be Edsuk. WoofDah! But that would be better than what Spooky's name would be. Lets not even go there.

Anyway, I sort of mis-spoke in the first line of this blog entry. Bo didn't actually go with his family. He is in Maine with them, but he went on his own plane! That's right, on his own smaller jet. How big? Not sure, but apparently smaller than Air Force One. As big as Air Force One is, they mustn't have had room for Bo.

Well, I've been petitioning my humans for a car of my own. Yeah, I know, I can't drive -- too short -- but Bo can't fly, either. He has a pilot, so why can't I have a driver?

My humans have been saying that dogs can't have cars because Obama has been saying we all must sacrifice, tighten our collars, and give up stuff. Really? I gotta give up my car, but Bo can have a plane of his own? That doesn't seem fair to me. My car would cost less and the gas to get where I want to go would certainly cost less than aviation fuel.

I'm not a political animal, but WoofDah, does this seem fair to you?

Dog possessions

A dog owns nothing, yet is seldom unsatisfied. This is a quote by a human, but it is true. Usually all we dogs want is food, water, a little love, a little attention. People could take a lesson from this. But will they? Unlikely. Their loss.

Woofdah!

Tinker

Time to Shine

My buddy Razor left this weekend and will be gone for the next couple of weeks. Before he left he was a bit unBearable (pun intended) at times, running around with his tail high, Frisbee in his mouth, and an attitude. He is a good dog, but he not afraid to exercise his dominance. That and he thinks he is pretty handsome too. The bottom line, Rowdy, Blu and I are all real glad to get a break from him, especially since we get more time with Mom, Dad and the kids. But, not all is perfect. You see, I heard that Razor has left for a while to go on tour! Or something like that. I overheard things like "show", "champion", "breeder", "stud".

"Sheeeeeesh! What a load!"

Do you have any idea what kind of ego Razor will have after a week of that kind of talk! We plan to enjoy our peace while it lasts!

Bear

Tinky's advice to her friends

I just want to share with you a quotation from Fran Lebowitz that I think is very wise:

"If you are a dog and your owner suggests you wear a sweater, suggest that he wear a tail."

My person has never suggested a sweater but a hoodie does feel good in these North Country winters for which I am ill clothed. I also like to be snugged into her jacket with her when the temperatures drop -- but no sweaters!

I am a working Dog

I am a store dog and I go to work just about every day with the human I adopted. It’s a great job. I am on duty on till 9 AM. Humans come looking to buy milk and bread. I greet every one of them with my tail wagging. These humans don’t know I am just looking for a pet or maybe my belly rubbed. Some humans put me in the grocery cart. I don’t like that.
I really like little people. They are happy to see me. Some of them even ask where I am. I get pets and belly rubs and I like to lick them all over. It is a good time for me.
I have my human train to go for a walk two times every day, well not every day. Some days my human tells me we don’t have time to visit all my friends in the neighborhood. But on the days when we walk and get back to the store, I know a couple of humans who I can beg great treats from. Those humans have some wonderful turkey, hamburger, beef and some days I can even beg some cheese.
They think I have to be bribed to back to that janitor’s closet. Oh well, I get those great treats but don’t tell them I need a nap after playing in the park!

Old Dog

I am an old dog. Enough about new tricks and all that. Growing old has been tough with creaking joints, failing eyesight, and the seemingly endless stream of new dogs in my house. Are they trying to replace me already? Age is tough. How old am I you ask? Well, I am soon going to be 87 years old. In human years that is 16. Speaking of humans, why do they always try to make me older then I am? I hear "Wow, 16 ... that is 112 dog years". Please, why do they want to make me older then I already am? I mean, isn't 87 enough? I have seen a lot, and age does come with its perks of course, like sleeping on the bedroom floor each night instead of outside. That and the human food that my owners slip to me when they believe the other is not watching. It is funny, I can sneak a bite or two from Mom, and then a few minutes later hit up Dad for a few more treats. They are none the wiser, and I am not saying anything. I really like to follow the little red head around when he had food, often with good results. But enough rambling for now, I am old and tired. I don't see well, I move slowly, and I sleep a lot. I AM 87!

Oh, and I know one thing. My humans hold a very special place for me in their hearts. They joke about my age and health, but that is only to cushion the thought of the inevitable. I will miss them too of course, but I am looking forward to playing with my best friend Kit again.

Bear

a dogs life cycle

a dog always starts out as a puppy (baby dog) is born from two adult dogs that are 1 female and 1 male they kiss and the female gets pregnant then the puppy is born and will start to have milk from the mother then when he or she is a kid they start to grow claws and there legs grow bigger

and start to eat dog food then they turn into a teenager and if there a big dog they will be medium size if there little they will still be the size of a kid then they turn into a adult

Copper

Copper always has something in common if it is his personality or if its from humans like he looks evil when he is tired and is yellow.Also he is fluffy has lots of fur has no hair on his belly.He also likes treats and has brown eyes.But there are names we call him like Banana or Yellow dog.Also he is called Original cop cop so you see Copper is very interesting.
Made by :
Garrett

Golf Ball Nonsense

My human has a thing about golf balls. It started when I was a pup. He had a couple of golf balls at the store and seemed to get quite a kick out of slinging them down an aisle for me to chase. I have to admit it was fun for a while, but I grew out of it. He didn't.

I learned I didn't have to chase the balls. I simply waited until they hit the end of the aisle and stopped. Then I'd grab the ball and take off with it. My old human seemed to like chasing me and taking the ball away to start all over again. Only a moron would keep on with something like that! I finally put a stop to that nonsense.

I could see he was disappointed, because he kept throwing those balls for quite a while before finally giving it up. When they adopt a human, some dogs tend to spoil them rotten, but that's not a good idea. If get by with a few things, sooner or later they'll expect the most outrageous nonsense. You gotta know when to stop them.

Somewhere around the middle of last summer, we began doing some walking around the golf course. One day my old human found a golf ball in the weeds and started bouncing it around as we made our way home. Oh, yeah, I know he was trying to rekindle my interest in the fool thing but I hung tough and he finally quit it.

One thing I'm grateful for, though, is that he didn't quit going to the golf course. I found I rather enjoy those walks as I frequently find good stuff to roll in.

Well, he started finding golf balls on a regular basis and really got into it. He kept a running total, and then began hoarding them in one of his mate's decorative tins. I don't think she's found out about that yet. You know what makes this really insane? He doesn't even play golf!

Last year he bragged about collecting 55 old golf balls; on his best day he found 11. He's tried to get me involved in his insanity, but I can't emphasize my refusal strongly enough. They have no scent, no taste, and they're uncomfortable in my mouth. And that's that, as far as I'm concerned.

Still, off to the golf course we go every Sunday morning. Last Sunday he found 18 balls, a personal best. Doggies! What bragging! Two were invalid, I'm thinking. One had a big chuck missing and another a big slash. He claimed he had to get rid of them, but I saw them go into his collection tin.

Yesterday was Saturday and he had the day off. Early in the morning we headed for the golf course. We found eight balls. There was a horrendous rain storm Saturday night, with thunder and lightning. But early Sunday we were again off to the golf course. We stopped at the cemetery so he could say hi to some pals. Can't say I blame him. I visit with Spike and Chippie sometimes since they are right here under a couple of trees. Well, we found four more balls, so the year-to-date total is 67 and May isn't gone yet. Doggies! What crowing!

All in all, I can't complain, the golf course is a wonderful place to walk even though we only go on the fringes. I haven't done any big bathroom duties out there yet. I suppose that would create some sort of riot, so I'll probably lay off that business.

Nearly all the squirrels who come to our yard to raid for peanuts and bird seed live on the golf course. We've made quite a game out of our daily chases, so I have some good pals out there.

Hmm, his pals are in the cemetery, mine on the golf course. I'll tell you this, my pals are more active than his!

Well, woof 'til next time.

Spooky

Entered by Felix

Grandpas Dogs

If you see Grandpas dog he is spooky he kisses you alot and is little.He is in Greenbush with his sister Tinker.WOOF! WOOF! and Tinker and she protects Grandma.Tinker and Spooky are blond and like every dog crazy for treats drink water also they cuddle.
Made by:
Garrett,and thinking about Copper

Pool

I've never been happier than yesterday! My owners filled my pool!! It was GREAT. I go fetch my Frisbee then I pass them and head right for my pool. Play a little, I do try to get them wet, but they are smart and know what I am up to, I have to figure out another way to get them. We played for about 2 hours last night. I sure am glad that summer is here. I hope they fill my pool today. Can't wait for this afternoon.

Crazy Razor

A Trip to the Doc

This evening Spooky and I and our humans made a trip to the Doc.

Spook went into the little room with the metal-top table and didn't make a peep. Scared little mouse she is. She needs to learn from me.

When I went into the little room, I looked at the Doc, and though he's a nice guy, he was priming a needle! Girl, that thing was huge! I decided right then I would no way let him touch my human or poke that needle into me. Uh uh. No!

He grabbed my scruff, and I started making noise. I didn't feel a needle, so apparently I frightened him so much he didn't accomplish the dastardly deed. He came at me and grabbed my scruff again. Again I loudly objected and I felt no needle, so there it is - two for me and zero for the Doc!

You'd think that would have completely discouraged him, but no, there he was again grabbing my scruff, but HA! this time he must have been very nervous and frightened, because he didn't even have that ugly needle in hand. He did have an ampule or something, which in the struggle must have broken. He got stuff all over my neck and rubbed it in. Trying to hide the evidence, I suppose.

He made no more tries, so I guess he decided he's no match for me. Three for three and good for me! After all, I'm four pounds of pure fierce determination!

Woof Dah! Guess I'll have to work on teaching Spooky how to be fierce.

Tinker

A dog's life

From an email comment on the short lives dogs have:

''People are born so that they can learn how to live a good life --like loving everybody all the time and being nice, right?''

''Well, dogs already know how to do that, so they don't have to stay as long.''

Bring My Boys Back Home

On Friday, my largest boy left the house to go and do something. From what I could gather, it was in some foreign land known as "Oh Claire." I don't know who Claire is or why she got a place named after her, but that didn't matter at the time. My boy was leaving forever and ever and that's all that mattered. When Mommy came home without my boy, I was beside myself. I moped and whined and cried for treats. Then suddenly after the big shiny thing in the sky had gone down for the second time since I saw my boy, my boy came back! Then I realized, I had no idea how long he had been gone. I guess it was something like three forevers's's. I need to go and nurse my tail now. I dislocated it wagging.

Until next time,

Woof

--
Copper

Best Friend

*****Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend. Inside of a dog it's too dark to read. ****** - Groucho Marx

My Morning Walks

Our walks have become routine, more or less, but the old man does try to vary them a little from time to time. I suppose he gets bored. Dog Almighty knows I don't; I'm always anxious to go.


This morning we went straight past the Legion, and I knew we were going to do a couple extra blocks. It was if fate decreed that I should have a gift! There was a dead bird, flat as a pancake, alongside the alley. I took a quick glance at the old guy and dove in. He walked right by and didn't notice a thing until he hit the leash limit. By that time I already reeked. It was great! He actually let me roll in it for a minute or two before urging me on. Heck, I'm still inhaling right now.


Eventually, we made our way back to the railroad tracks and headed for the park on the other side of the highway. The killdeers are back and nesting. I have never seen a more inept pack of birds in my life. Broken wings of epidemic porportions seem to plague that tribe. I began to wonder if they weren't faking it. Dogs! I'd love to take after them, but my human won't let me off the leash. They come so close and tantalize me, always just out of reach. I'd give my right dew claw to grab one. They look delicious.


When we get to the park, the old guy always makes the loop on the sidewalk. He often lets me off the leash so I can run. Sometimes I really cut loose and run huge circles around him. It's so doggone much fun that I have to bark once in a while. Anyway, the old man gets a kickout of it and starts laughing and hollering, "Way to go, Spooky!" and "Com'on, Spooks!" You know, that kind of stuff. He'll even clap now and then. If a dog ever came by and saw all this, I'd be so embarrassed, I swear I'd crawl into a hole.


But you have to look beyond all that. It really doesn't take much to keep a human happy, and after all, like it or not, we are living in a human world. If more dogs took an extra step to treat their humans better, they probably wouldn't be so crabby and we'd all be better off.

Well, after all that running around, we left the park, going under the railroad tracks, and coming out by the old John Deere shop. There's some wonderful sniffing back there. I don't know where all that rotten junk comes from, but it's great stuff. Then we cross the highway by Bumper to Bumper and head back to the store.

Today we ran into an elderly human female with a pack of human pups. I ran over to them and licked 'em all up. They giggled and laughed like mad. I like human pups. They're hardly ever grouchy, and I always get some good pats.

We're into a routine. Every time we get back, my human lets me hunt up someone to beg for a fresh yummy.

And this is really weird! There is another bald, old human at the store. He resembles my human like you wouldn't believe! They've gotta be from the same litter. I just can't see how it could be otherwise. My human has his fur trimmed on his face to leave a moustache under his nose and the other one has chin whiskers. They remind me of Schnausers. Anyway, that guy's always good for some raw burger, and he makes good stuff.

There's a little female human who hangs around there, too. She's almost always good for sliced turkey that's just delicious. She moves real fast and reminds me of a Chihuahua. You know how their movements seem to be speeded up? They make a big deal of dropping little bits of meat and luring me back to the room where I spend the day, like I'm some kind of idiotwho can't see through the game.

Oh, well, my philosophy is: "Keep the humans happy and we're all better off."

WoofDah!

Spooky
FMK

Adding to the Family

When I first came to live with my people, I was introduced to my new brother. He was called Daley some of the time and Spikie some of the time.

.

.

.

I remember when Spooky came to live with us. In a previous post, she said I didn't like her much when she first appeared on the scene. She's right. Let me explain.

I was no pup when I came to live here. I was a year and a half old, so although I immediately fell in love with my lady, adjusting to the situation was not instantaneous.

There was an old dog living here, my new brother. My lady called him Daley, but the old guy called him Spike. Daley was a kind old dog, semi-retired, and he didn't bother me much. After a short time we got along fine - mostly just ignoring one another. He never bothered my stuff and I returned the favor. I did tease him a little, but I wasn't a pest like, ahem, someone else.

It wasn't long before Spooky came along and there was no ignoring her. She just waltzed in, perky as could be, and proceeded to take all my stuff. Truth is, she still lays claim to all of my toys - I no longer have any, not even the two little toy dogs my lady gave me after she'd been in the hospital - my reward for good behavior in her absence.

But Spooky and I get along okay now -- all due to my efforts, I might add. I ignore the toys. I also ignore her most the time, but sometimes I do deign to play with the little thief. I have to admit, she can be quite a pleasant playmate.

Together we can raise quite a ruckus when we decide to call attention to trespassers on our property. Some people and dogs and squirrels just don't seem to realize that our property includes the streets in front and back as well as the yards beyond those streets. I could do the protection job myself, but I look at it like this: one day I'll want to retire, so it's my duty to train the youngster.

Her training is progressing nicely. I wouldn't say she's a particularly fast learner; it's more like I'm a great teacher.

WoofDah! She's one lucky dog!

Tinker

Uh oh...

Uh oh...now I have done it. My people finally let me stay out when they left the house and I just could not resist and scratched the carpet on the landing again. Why oh why do I do it? I know I am not supposed to. I could tell the moment they walked in the door that they were VERY UPSET. I dutifully hung my head and tail in apology, but to no avail. I was banished to my kennel. I love my kennel, unless I am being sent there. I wonder when I can go upstairs again. I know they'll hate me forever. If I had only known they would not have been gone forever I would have found something less conspicuous to do. Heck, I should have nabbed one of the donuts off the counter, I bet they would not have even noticed that! Gotta go, I hear them coming.....

--
Copper

My New Family

This is me (Spooky) and my sister (Tinker) and my old bald headed human. This is taken in the room at the store where I spend a lot of time.


I was very surprised when Tinky started a blog and even more surprised when she asked me to write in. I'm not an expert on anything, but maybe you'd like a little background on me as a way of introduction.

I come from the Wadena area. One Saturday morning, my mother's human hauled my littermates and me to a flea market, where she sold us. I've not seen any of my first family since. I guess now we're spread out all over, but that's pretty normal for us dogs and we can't really complain about it.

My mother named me Sheila after a great-great-great-great aunt who was an Australian Blue Heeler. Thank the Big Dog there is no resemblance as most of that is bred out of me. I consider myself a Pom, you understand, and never had much time for Blue Heelers. They're just a bunch of pests. Of course, nobody calls me Sheila. We live in a human world, and as you know, humans have no idea what our real names are.

Anyway, at the flea market, a woman from New York Mills bought me. Things were looking pretty good. She got me a little collar with little paw prints on it and gave me a name of some kind, but I don't remember it. I was only just weaned, you see, a little pup, and well, the whole thing didn't last long.

She got sick and had to have surgery. Her mate didn't like me and wouldn't take care of me. He wanted a hound, I suppose. I don't have any use for hounds, either. They're nothing but a bunch of lazy bums lying around the porch all day, waiting for the chow bucket. A human would be lucky if they retrieved one or two ducks a year.

A guy named Dennis agreed to keep me for a month while my human healed up. That was a pretty good gig. He had a pug named Kisha, and I liked bugging her. She got pretty jealous of her toys and stashed all of her stuff, so I generally made do with old socks and such. I'm not complaining. The chow was good, and he'd even toss out a hot dog now and then. Dennis was a German, and I think his socks were so ripe from all the sauerkraut he ate.

Well, when the month was up, the woman hadn't healed too well. She had complications and agreed to let me go if Dennis could find me a good home. He put me in a box and hauled me up to Greenbush. Doggies! That is the middle of nowhere!

He handed me over to an old bald-headed human who had a grocery store. Don't ask me how it happened but we bonded right off the bat, and I knew I was home. Every dog needs a human and though he wasn't much to look at, he was better that nothing and I was determined to train him.

This human had an old dog named Spike who was not one bit fond of me. I ran circles around him and had a ball teasing him, but he learned to ignore me and we got along fine. That evening I met Tinkie, my new sister, who was not one bit fond of me, either. My human's human was friendly but I was leery of her for a while. But everything worked out and we became a family.

The very next day began the daily routine of going to work at the grocery store, a half mile walk in the forenoon, and a half mile walk in the afternoon. We meet people, kids, and dogs. It's been a great life so far.

My human's human named me Spooky for some reason. I'm a Pom through and through and I don't think I'm scary, but what the heck? I have to answer to something.

Woof Dah.

Spooky
FMK

Hooch and the Pooch?

Hooch and Pooch

What an outrage.   Who could ever consider having a respectable dog relegated to such a duty as carrying around a keg of liquor.  I am proud to say that this would never happen to me, my people just love and respect me too much.    They would never consider hanging a barrel of brandy around my neck!

Wait a minute, time to BARK.  Someone is at the door!!!  Oh, a new package for Dad.   I wonder, I wonder, I wonder….   Oh what could it possibly be…  Maybe a new toy for me or a leash or some fancy treat.

Oh, oh, oh!!!   They are all looking at me and waving a box around!!  It is for me!  Open it!  Open it!!!  OPEN IT!

Ok, I can see it now, it is small…..  ok…  wooden..   hey… it is a little wooden barrrel?   Is that a Keg?   Oh s^%t…   Time to run and hide.   Sometimes I really hate my people…

Ain’t that the truth

Rainy Days

This is me (Tinker) trying to keep my person tidy, washing her hand.







Today is rainy and I really despise wet weather. I know some canines don't mind these kinds of days, including Sissy (also known as Spooky). Baths, I don't mind, but miserably wet days, yuck.

I don't think my person is too crazy about rainy days either, but I don't know why she should mind. After all, she isn't as fastidious as I am and actually does her "duties" inside. Can you imagine? I do like her, but she's never actually been trained. Even on nice days, she goes in the bathroom. Now, I ask you, why would a BATHroom be for anything but baths? Sometimes people are just incomprehensible! Lovable, but incomprehensible.

So there she goes, muttering about a rainy day when I'm the one who correctly goes outdoors to duty, no matter what the weather!

And I am a Sunbeam Dog. That's what my person calls me on sunny days, because in the mornings, I like to climb up on the back of the sofa and stretch out in the sun. No, I haven't caught the tanning fever that most people seem to catch every summer. I'm not sunning for a tan; unlike people, I'm too modest to strip off my coat and flaunt my bare body. I get in the window and lay in the sun because the sunbeams make me warm and cozy and happy.

Today I'm not happy - a rainy day, no sunbeams - I think I'll go behind the sofa and pout.

Woofdah!
Tinker

Copper talks

Well, I have to say, after all these years it is nice to finally have a voice.  Don’t get me wrong, I sing when my boys get home from school and I hollar at the top of my bark when someone approaches the door.  Sure, there is that.  But now I have more, I can finally share my thoughts with you.

I am affectionately known as Yellow Dog.  I am not sure why but it might have something to do with the color of my fur.   Either that or my total fear of being left alone.  I prefer to think the former.  

I do enjoy a good treat and love to go on car rides, especially to get Gray from school.    I love to play but my favorite pastime is a good nap.    But I am ready at any time for the smallest table scrap or a treat.   I am just that kind of dog.

Greetings to all my four-legged friends

I'm Tinker and I'm inviting you to come blog with me. You want to join the fun? Just email my person snookyk@gmail.com to become a member.


Hi to my four-legged friends!

I've begun this blog just for us. Our people are forever blogging or otherwise sharing their views. It is time we also share our own unique perspectives.

So here it is - our blogspot. Although you will have to use your person's email to log in to blog, please do not let your people add their opinions - this is just for the canine bunch.

And I'd like to see photos of all of you. Do you know how to post those?

If you'd like to blog here, but haven't received an invitation, you'll need to request permission from my person. She's taking care of all of that for me; I'm too busy planning my posts to be distracted by the technicalities - and after all, isn't taking care of us their job?



Woofdah!

Tinker
(Snooky)