In Memory of Mr. Woo-Woo

Today's diary entry was written by Richard M. of Long Beach, CA. The colorful memorial plaque was drawn by Crystal V., who lived next door to Dillon and played with him often.

I am so sad I cannot express my love for that dog and the joy he brought to everyone he loved, licked! He truly stole your heart. Woo Woo Stew was such a dear dear dog. He loved all but would sit out front every time you two would leave waiting for the two people that he loved the most. I am so so sad. He is with Ebony and they are pulling the rope I just know it. Hugs to you both.

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!

Labradors on Labor's Day (almost an anagram!)

Oh, woo. My adopted sisters woke me up two mornings in a row with their hysterical barking. They woke up the humans, too, who were none too happy about it. Both times it was only a sky full of big balloons drifting over our yard, making whooshing noises once in a while. Ho hum; I've seen it before. I went into the house and tried to sleep as best I could. Meanwhile the humans got all excited and took lots of pictures. Later they played their movie pictures on the big TV set, which set my sisters barking again. Daisy even went over to the TV and tried to nip the balloons on the screen, leaving sloppy lip marks behind. How dumb! My motto is, if you can't smell something, it isn't worth putting in your mouth.

It's All Too Much

I hardly know where to begin. So much has happened! My folks went away again--nothing new about that, because they came back in a few weeks like they always do. Ebony went away, too. She got too weak to walk and just lay out by the gate all one night. Then the house-sitters lifted her into their car and drove away. Then that young peroxide-blonde Lab came to visit again. Va-va-voom! or rather, woo-woo-woooo since I can't pronounce v and m very well. She came with another young Lab, Abby, a pre-teen in dog years, who licks everybody and feasts on books and catalogs. But Daisy is worse than Abby: She chased dear Cindy Lou to the neighbor's roof, and my dad had to climb a ladder and get her down (Cindy Lou, not Daisy). Then Cindy Lou bit my mom on the lip. Anyhow, I like having the new girls here, but I miss Ebony. She hasn't come back from her ride yet. Is there a ride that has no end? Or is its end a bourne from which no traveler returns? And what is a bourne?

I'm a Regular Lab Magnet

Female Labs love this yard - must be my magneic personality. There's Ebony, of course, and then we had a vanilla female named Morgy stay over one night. She was lost, but I sensed exactly where she lived; but of course nobody paid attention to my woo-woo-woos. Anyway, her humans picked her up the next day. Then another vanilla Lab showed up for an overnight visit. I recognized her at once. She was the same one who followed me a few weeks ago! She had been lost, too, and had quite a tale to tell, but I have some holes to dig so will get back to you about this later. Poor Ebony still doesn't feel like playing or even eating much.

Worried About Dear Ebony

Something is wrong with Ebony. Last week she stopped wanting to play and she just lay around all day, sleeping. Her belly got very big. She drank lots and lots of water. The humans took her away for a whole day, and when she came back she smelled like the vet's office. She got a little better after that, but she's still not herself. The humans started taking her for car rides and feeding her chicken every day. I should be happy because they give me some chicken too, but I'm not. Something isn't right.

I Love ME Best!

Oh, I'm a heartbreaker. Love 'em and leave 'em, that's my motto. Like that odd-eyed Aussie bitch on 25th street. She barked at me in her down-under accent and bared her fangs on Wednesday. I was in the neighborhood again yesterday and walked right past her yard with total sang froid, as the poodles would say. Well, when I got downwind of her, she ran up to her fence and whimpered, so I turned back. She wagged her tail as I approached and her tongue hung out. Nonchalantly I marked her fence post. She sniffed it. Then her entire hindquarters started quivering uncontrollably. I smirked, turned, and marched down the street with my dad. I didn't look back, but I heard her sharp cry of disappointment as we moved on past the next house. A young vanilla Labrador started following us, but I ignored her, too, and after a while she fell behind.

Snow Job

Well, I'm back to my regular diction. None of my homies could understand a word of my last blog. But I just wanted to say that it SNOWED yesterday in the high desert! WOO, did I have fun! I'll post sum uv ma piccies - um, my pictures - soon's I get to it.