November 23rd 2005 4:44 pm
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... hopping down the bunny trail. Hippity hoppity do doo do doo doooo!
Okay, so it's not Easter, but Opal and I want to wish our pal Francis LOTS of luck at the field trials this weekend! Francis is pretty quick on the uptake. I'm sure he won't have any trouble at all finding that bunny trail. :)
And then Francis can come to visit us all at the dog show glowing with victory! Will you bring me a bunny, Francis? They DO give you a bunny if you do well at a field trial, right? ;)
I don't have all that much to report, pups and pupettes. Mom has been torturing us pup-types today. She's done a whole lot of cooking that smells really, mouth-wateringly, yummy ... and hasn't let me have a single bite! Something about waiting for tomorrow at Grandma and Grandpa's house. *grumble, grumble*
And you ought to see what Mom did to the refrigerator! She took out the bottom shelf and now there's a whole turkey in there in a GIANT bucket, taking a bath or something. And she yelled at me when I opened the fridge to take an innocent peek! Geez Mom, I wasn't going to disturb Mr. Turkey or stick my head in the brine solution, I swear! What kind of an uncivilized dog does she take me for?
Tomorrow had better be more fun. So far, Thanksgiving sucks. "Stay out of that refrigerator, Sterling!" "Don't let me catch you on that counter, Sterling!" "Stay away from the brine, Sterling." Yep, lots of fun.
Hey, I did manage to swipe a sprig of Italian Parsley though ... and that was good. Yum, greens!
Praying for it to rain roasted turkeys,
November 21st 2005 11:34 pm
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So, it has come to my attention that not every being on the planet is clear about the fact that I am THE Center of the Universe. The Center, with a capital "c", as in the one and only. Are we clear now? Okay, good. Now that we all understand that what I say goes, without question, let's get a few ground rules straight.
If you are an human:
1) Yes, I am the most handsome dog you have ever seen. Thank you for noticing. Interrupting my walk to tell me how handsome I am is not only unnecessary ... it is also a minor annoyance. Please wait until you see me stop to mark some territory before stopping Mom and me. I am going somewhere important, at all times.
2) Once you have found an appropriate pause in which to admire me, please feel free to do so. I like it. A lot. Besides, it is only fitting that you admire the Center of the Universe.
3) While admiring me, please do not assume I like having my head patted (aka smacked) just because I'm a smallish dog. I don't. If I deem you worthy, I assure you that I will come up to you and position myself to accept a worshipful stroke or two from you, before walking away. If I don't come to you, don't come to me ... I have clearly rated you as unworthy. And again, never, never pat my head. How degrading.
4) Treats are always welcome, but try not to take offense when I take that milkbone and hide it in a potted plant. That is my way of trying not to hurt your feelings. I do not eat "dog treats" nor do I acknowledge that I'm a "dog." Offerings of chicken breast or steamed vegetables will, however, be consumed on the spot.
Ground rules for other species to follow. :) Thank you for taking this time to go over the rules of living on my planet. Really, these rules are for your own good. They'll make your life easier and happier. I promise. :)
November 18th 2005 4:12 pm
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Mom is in SO much trouble! Just look at how long it's been since she let me type a diary entry!
I would like to apologize to all of my fans, and let you know Mom will be available for adoption to a good home. I will also be looking to hire a typist/cook to work Tuesdays through Mondays, from 12:02 AM until 11:55 PM. Duties will include logging onto Dogster for me, feeding Opal and myself, outings to the park and the lake, and keeping Opal out of my toy basket.
I'll have to catch you all up on my doings, but I do want to tell you how SUPER excited I am for next weekend! First off, it's Thanksgiving, which means turkey and apple salad at Grandma's house! Yum, yum. Since I'm such a great guy, I'm even going to let Opal come to Grandma's with me ... she can eat stuffing and mashed potatoes (I don't think much of potatoes).
Then that weekend is a big UKC show! Woo hoo! It's even an all-breed show, so there will be canine eye-candy of all shapes and sizes. Mom says I have to behave myself, and won't be allowed to woo all the ladies, but what does she know? I am the Center of the Universe. Don't people put on dog shows just to admire me?!? Mom just doesn't get it sometimes.
Best yet, I get to meet my favorite Dachshund, Francis at the dog show. Oh, and Francis' Bassett pal, Floyd, will be there too! Oh, oh, oh! And Gunther my Great Dane pal and maybe even Keiko will be stopping by to visit! It's going to be so much fun ... lots of my favorite dogsters all in one place. I just can't wait. :)
Well, I've gotta run. I need to make a few calls to adoption agencies to see if I can get Mom rehomed. She's a great human-type, but she's been awfully lax about getting me onto Dogster.
September 28th 2005 2:02 pm
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The lovely Portia, Queen of France, was kind enough to write me a little poem, wishing me luck in my show this weekend. I thought it was so sweet of her that I wanted to share it with you too, pups and pupettes!
Here it is:
Lots of good luck to Sterling
For his first big dog show.
He's done so well to get there,
For it's hard work, you know.
He'll prance around the show ring
With dignity and pride,
And let the judge examine him,
In ways we won't describe.
If Sterling gets a rosette,
It would surely make our day!
But even if he doesn't,
We love him anyway!
Thank you Portia! And thank you Francis and all the D+ pups who wished me luck!
I will do my best to do y'all proud. :)
Struttin' my stuff,
September 27th 2005 11:47 pm
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Hey there pups and pupettes. Long time no write. Sorry for that ... but we've been busy, busy. :) You'll forgive me, right? I hope.
Anyway, we're getting ready for my first BIG show. I'm super excited! Excited in a way that only a terrier can be. And I'm super ready. Show dog school has been a great experience ... I am now able to tolerate the most obnoxious of canines sticking its nose in my rear while I stand, stacked to perfection. Even more importantly, Mom has learned to tolerate the hyper-annoying human-types that are invariably attached to said obnoxious dogs. :)
And we picked up some important accoutrements this afternoon. I got a brand spankin' new, fantastic show lead this morning (much classier than my old nylon jobbie) ... and on the way home we got a collapsible crate for me to chill in between classes. It's even big enough for my girlie pal, Voodoo to sit in with me. :) Does it get any better? Well, and I've already got the hottest travel carrier around ... so looks like I'm set for our super-fun show weekend!
Strike a pose,
September 19th 2005 1:16 am
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Hey there pups and pupettes,
Guess what? I've got more family on Dogster now! I've had a full-sister and a half-brother on Dogster for awhile ... but this is really exciting! Now my dear old mom (old at a big 3 years) is a Dogster too! So is Opal's dad!
How fun is that? See, my mother and Opal's father were sold to the same wonderful human-type. They live in Connecticut now, which is pretty far away, but it seems like they're closer than ever, since we can check in with them here on Dogster.
Check 'em out:
Dolphin, the beautiful pearl-tri tuxedo female, is my very own mother. I think I have her eyes. :)
Wolf Moon, that handsome chocolate-tri tuxedo male, is Opal's father. She inherited his crunchy left-ear, but don't tell her I said so!
But anyway, I just HAD to share! It's like old home week 'round here. Hi Mom! (dog-mom)
September 13th 2005 4:19 am
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I met the Rat Terrier of my dreams. Elegantly beautiful. Gorgeous, perfectly angled legs. And a head to die for. The pinacle of female Rat Terrier perfection ... out of excellent bloodlines that are a perfect match for my own. To put it simply ... it was kismet. Kismet, also known as Weedo.
Weedo being her nick-nick-name to protect her identity A) from those folks out there who believe that no dogs (even show dogs that define their breed standards) should ever be bred, and B) from bloodline hoarders who are more concerned with producing their own "type" than improving the entire breed.
That said, Weedo is the girl of my dreams ... and Mom's dreams too. If she could, Mom would purchase the lovely Weedo (for any reasonable sum). You never saw such a combination of body, bloodlines, and temperment in one Rat Terrier ... well, except for ME of course. :) Which sums it up pretty well ... I AM perfect, after all, and Weedo is my feminine counterpart.
Anyway, we got two good ties in. With any luck at all, that should produce stunning pups. Not to toot my own horn here, but really ... okay, I'm gonna toot my horn! No joke. These pups will be exceptional if they are anything like their parents. :)
That's all I'm saying ... I'll leave the rest to the imagination until the pups are born, and then I'll show y'all their lovely little pictures.
Quite pleased with myself,
September 7th 2005 11:35 pm
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1 small 4 month-old Rat Terrier
1 art gallery -- approx. 8000 sq. ft.
1 open door
4 hysterical humans
Result: Recipe for Disaster
I was ever a precocious pup, if I do say so myself. I learned VERY quickly, and caught on to concepts and commands with lightning speed. Except for the all-important "Come." Come was not my idea of a good time. What? You want me to stop sniffing this hole, or eating that dry wall, come to you and behave myself? That's okay. Thanks. I'm good. Well, that's what I thought about "Come" as a puppy, anyway.
Mom and my trainer had one Heck of a time getting me to obey "Come." None of the normal methods were useful. I was not at all food-motivated, so the promise of a tasty treat when I came as asked meant nothing to me. Blech. Keep your Milk Bone. I was only 4 months old, but TOTALLY understood the concept of a leash. I had no choice but to be good and obey commands when on a leash. I mean really, it was a physical means of MAKING me come, whether I actually wanted to or not. So the 30' leash and repetition exercises were no good. I am, after all, smarter than your average human-type. :)
Mom was still working on this, and had not given up hope ... but wasn't actually all that worried about it. She figured I'd have a break through one day soon, so she just kept working with me.
And then came that fateful day. We were in the gallery, as usual. I was getting my morning exercise ... zooming around 8000 empty sq. ft. at top speed ... running that gallery like it was a race track. Then someone opened a door (onto the street) that was supposed to be locked! Mom panicked. She knew that if I saw the open door, I would blast through it, right into downtown LA traffic. Not a good thing. But she didn't want to walk toward the door, because that would draw my attention to it! What to do?
She called to the 3 other people in the gallery for help. There was no way for one of them to get to the door without me getting there first, so they tried everything. They tried to corner me. Nope! Too fast for you! Ha ha!! They tried to limit my running room while Mom called me to her. I would pause and look at Mom, then decide "Nah. I'll come later." This went on and on. Then I saw the door and zoomed towards it! Mom's worst nightmare.
That's when it happened ... Mom SCREAMED, "Sterling, COME!!!" I stopped dead in my tracks. I could hear the fear and frustration in her voice. I'd never heard Mom raise her voice like that. "Come, I said!" Boy, I thought I was gonna get it for sure. Shaking uncontrollably, I slowly made my way to Mom, with my ears back and my tail tucked down. I arrived at her feet and waited for the beating I knew I deserved. Instead I got more praise and affection than ever before! Mom went nuts with joy that I'd come!
And that, pups and pupettes, is the story of how I learned to come when called. :)
Your recall friend,
September 5th 2005 2:56 am
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OR Attack of the Killer Vacuum Cleaner
This is actually a pretty embarassing story, but Mom still thinks it's really funny ... and it explains why I detest the vacuum so completely.
So, there I was ... an innocent, adorable Rat Terrier puppy. I'd been home with Mom for a week, and had pretty well settled into life in my new home. I'd figured out that the best way to deal with Gomer the cat was to sneak up behind him, bite his tail as hard as I could, and run, run, run away! I followed Mom around the house religiously. I'd gotten the hang of using pee pads and walking on a leash. All was going VERY well ... until the fateful afternoon Mom decided it was time to vacuum the carpet.
I was sitting on the couch. Mom walked over to the hall closet, opened it up, an pulled out a strange blue contraption. She wheeled the thing over to the edge of the carpet, and unwound a long snake from its backside ... plugging the snake into the wall. Curious, I meandered over to check things out. Mom let me sniff the big blue thing, then satisfied that I'd acquainted myself with it, picked me up and put me back on the couch. Then she hit a switch and the blue monster ROARED to life!
I don't know what Mom was thinking!!! She'd moved me out of the way, but she was handling a MONSTER! It scared the poop out of me ... literally. I ran for my life ... from one end of the couch to the other, jumped down, ran across the room at top speed, ducked into the bathroom, realized I couldn't hide in there, than charged through the dining room and into the kitchen. I did this screaming at the top of my little lungs, and yes, pooping all the way.
Mom quickly turned the vacuum off and ran over to comfort me. I was shaking uncontrollably, and only calmed down after Mom put the vacuum monster back in its cave (the closet). Then Mom put me down and went to clean up my fear-induced intestinal pyrotechnic display. She started laughing uncontrollably, and as she cleaned everything up, just said, "Baby Dog, I had no idea that one little puppy could hold so much poop!" Okay, Mom actually used a different word at the time, but "poop" will do for our purposes.
Can you believe Mom thought it was funny?!? Funny? I think not. It was scary. And I still hate the vacuum cleaner to this day, but now I'm a big, brave boy ... and try to kill it, instead of running from it. One of these days, I'll get that monster good; and he'll never rise again. Just you wait.
And that, pups and pupettes, is the story of my first meeting with the evil vacuum monster.
Down with cleaning implements,
August 31st 2005 12:27 am
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Hi there pups and pupettes,
So, I thought we'd have some fun with classic Sterling moments ... adventures and missteps that just didn't make it into the diary.
Today's moment occurred not that long ago, in early July, when Mom and I were in Kansas dealing with her grandfather's funeral and estate.
There were a whole LOT of people in and out of that house around the time of the funeral. Sometimes 10 or 20 of them at a time. I greeted them all cordially and professionally (I AM the official greeter, after all) ... except for ONE particular woman.
"Sandy" (name has been changed to protect her identity) came with a group of 6 other kind-hearted individuals. I greated each human-type, and then when I got to "Sandy" shied away like I'd smelled nail polish remover. Just in case you don't know, nail polish remover is the most offensive smell on the planet. Now, "Sandy" didn't have any of that evil brew with her, I just acted like she did. Mom glazed over it with a "ignore Sterling and he'll come to you" comment, which is usually true. But not this time! I showed everyone in the room my dot (AKA favorite toy) but NOT "Sandy." Here, let me give you the visual:
"Sandy" was sitting in the middle of the couch. There was a human-type on either side of her on said couch. I would approach one bookend human, stand up on my hind legs to show off my dot, accept some pets, and then move on to the OTHER bookend human. To do this, I had to walk around "Sandy," which I did, giving her a 3' berth. Mom always told me that humans have a 3' ring of personal space. Trust me, I didn't want anything to do with HER personal space.
From what I gather, it really hurt "Sandy's" feelings that I wouldn't have anything to do with her. Hey, I can't help it if I detect evil and the human-types don't. Anyway, the humans decided that if "Sandy" switched seats with someone else, I'd inadvertently be nice to her in my next trip around the room and realize she wasn't so bad. Mom didn't bother to tell the other human-types that I'm smarter than that. That's okay, Mom. I showed them myself.
So there I was, making my rounds. I went to the couch ... instead of 2 good humans and 1 objectional human, there were 3 good ones. Hmm. Okay. I was nice to everyone ... let them look at my toy but not touch it, let them pet me. Then I moved on to the easy chair, which HAD previously contained a good human. I got about 2' from the chair and stopped DEAD in my tracks. "Sandy!!!" The evil wench tried to trick me. I gave her an annoyed look and turned my back and continued about the room.
I never would speak to that woman, as long as she stayed that afternoon. And Mom didn't make me be nice to her either. After everyone left, she just told me that I usually know best, but maybe next time I could make less of a show of not liking an individual. Hey! I can't help it if I sense a human's dark side!
Your local emotional radar dish,
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