Dogster

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My life and times

Saying good bye to our best buddy

We had to say good bye to our friend Sherman on October 26 of '06. We were on vacation and took him with us. He took a turn for the very worse and we found a very kind veterinarian that helped us say good bye.

It was incredibly difficult but the right thing to do. We miss him terribly. He was the old man of the house for so long and really tried to keep up with the other dogs. His arthritis was so bad and his muscles were starting to atrophy, he couldn't go on walks, one of his favorite activites.

I hope everyone knows a "Sherman" in their life because he was the definition of unconditional love and patience with humans. We could all learn a lesson from this boy.

Getting old sucks

I have a gray muzzle that matches my dad's hair. It is very "distinguished" so I am told. The bed seems to get higher and higher every day and it isn't as easy to jump up on it. I have taken to the dog bed on the floor. It is quite cozy and Olive sleeps in the one next to me. She farts though.

When I go outside with Olive and Nana I have to keep an eye out on that moose, Olive. She runs really hard and doesn't stop. It is like a cow coming at me a hundred miles an hour. She knocks me down and I get really pissed off so I snarl my meanest snarl and attack. She keeps coming at me 'cause she thinks I am still playing. I am not playing. I mean business! I stand my ground with her and don't let up. My dad has to get between us sometimes because I won't stop and I get tired pretty quick but I won't give in. When I finally calm down, I stick close to my dad and avoid the moose.

The other dad brought home a monster bag of treats. I started to drool 'cause I know they are all for me. I don't care how old I get. I will always love treats. Except chicken. I ate a piece the other day and barfed up my whole dinner. Then I was hungry. Why would something I love so much make me barf?

Time for bed. I hope Olive doesn't fart on me.

Concern for the Dads

So I was talking to the cat, Gert, today. She is worried about one of the dads. The older one that can't seem to stay at his office for a whole day. She (Gert) was reading his e-mails over his shoulder and said some folks think he is whacko for spending so much time on this website. What's the problem? I still get my treats. He takes us on walks everyday. He stopped selling his housewares to score crack (whatever that is). Quite frankly, I like this website. It keeps him busy and he doesn't look online for a new car every six days.

Both dads came home with another dog a couple weeks ago. Her name is Olive and she is gi-normous. I freaked out 'cause I'd never had to look UP to see a dog's face before. But it turns out she is pretty darn lazy, so we have that in common. She is also a couch hog which is another thing we share. I like to look down on my dads when they are sitting/laying on the floor and we are on the "furr"-niture. It makes me all warm inside.

Olive does like to play but she is a lazy player. She mostly lays there and stretches her neck out and bites the back of my legs. Her mouth is huge. You could fit a 40-pound bag of dog food in there. Sometimes she stands up and tries to mouth wrestle with me. Seeing those jaws coming at me; it is like looking into the jaws of an Orca.

Today is my dad's birthday (the dad that taught me how to type). I got him a statue that looks like an Oscar and it says "Best Dad." He is great and knows how to nap with the best of us. Gert got him a furball. Kinda gross but from the heart.

More later.