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News Notes: The Nose Knows

Zeak thinks he's so smart

April Fool's day was yesterday. Woo, I've skipped my diary for a year and a day! My "pack" keeps me busy, and mostly on my back with jaws clamped around my neck. Nothing to write home about. Anyhow, I am especially peeved at Zeak. One time he brought our Dad his leash, holding it in his mouth and laying it at Dad's feet. Dad thought that was so clever! I don't think so. If Zeak wants a walk, he should just dance around wagging his tail and whining like a proper dog. Then there is that dirty ball business. Zeak and Abby chase rubber balls that our Dad throws into the back acreage. Soon the balls are all slimy, gritty, muddy, and unsuitable for chewing. At game's end, Zeak takes his indoors and plops it into his water dish, or sometimes the toilet, and moves it around until it is clean. Again, Dad thinks Zeak must be some kind of genius for figuring that out. Big whoopie-do.

Good Day, Bad Day

The day before yesterday was so grand! Vanessa came over from next door and made a Dogster page for her Zeak. Young Vanessa is already 84 years old and growing taller every day. That's dog years, of course. Afterward, my dad took me to the dog park which he said is a new place. Wow (I mean woo), what a treat! Plenty of dogs to run with, and wild, exciting smells! I had pleasant dreams all night. The humans said I was running in my sleep.

Then yesterday came. I guess there has to be a bad day now and then, so's we'll know to appreciate the good days. In the morning Zeak did that game he does with his mouth on my throat and me on my back--not fun at all, so I went and hid out under the storage shed. Then I got stuck! I heard my mom calling and calling for me, but I couldn't bark, because I was so stuck I could hardly breathe. Then I heard her car going out the gate while she was calling. Then my dad walked by the shed and I summoned up a little groan. Pretty soon mom and dad were digging me out and pulling boards away. Dad was mad. He said I blew a whole morning we could have spent at the dog park, just him and me and Zeak. But that was Zeak's fault, not mine!

Zeak the Freak, and the Dog Trainer

OK, Zeak isn't really a freak. I just call him that to put him in his place. He's a handsome Golden Retriever, less than a year old, and already as big as I am. He towers over his "sisters" Daisy and Abby. He likes to stand up on his hind legs and dance with the humans, but I don't think the humans enjoy it. With me, he likes to, um, uh...let's just say he's a Canis who's overly familiaris. Anyhow, yesterday we had a human visitor who introduced himself as the man from Bark Busters. Pretty soon the humans were growling "Buh!" at my "sisters" and Zeke every few seconds and flinging bagged chains on the ground. It was very distressing, so I hid out in the yard until the man left. Since then my sisters have stopped playing "who's boss" games with the humans, but while the humans went shopping, Zeak and those two bitches made short work of some packages of Chrismas tinsel. So, they can still assert their independence. Buh? Humbug!