Inquiring Minds Wanted To Know

And the results are in! Yes, my mama knew I had questions about my heritage. So she carefully collected a sample of my DNA (from inside my mouth) and sent it off in the mail for analysis. I just knew I was part poodle- but no. Apparently my ancestors are- wait for it- Samoyed/ Cocker Spaniel/ Tibetan Spaniel?! WTF? I guess I can see myself herding reindeer in Siberia in another life.

Summertime and the livin' is too darn hawt!

So I have reprimanded my lazy secretary using the severest of terms woofing that she needs to transcribe the details of my adventure. Yes, I (aka SuperPetunia) emerged from the outhouse (no phone booths around here) in my full caped regalia to solve the country's ills- namely the oily gulf. I was tired of the countless images of sea critters struggling against the black sticky stuff. So, I flew down there and rescued as many dog-sized and under mammals as I could- plucking them from their distress and depositing them to animal rescue resources. I found flying to be more exhausting than I remember. It may be some time before I am able to resume my saving the day duties. Secretary looks skeptical but acknowledges that I did seem pretty pooped out and wet upon my return. She has made me promise not to fly anymore in this intense heat and has hidden my cape.

The (Not So) Great Escape

You may or may not have noticed my absence from the Intertubes this week. My Grandma Joyce came to visit and I had to make myself available for belly rubs provided by my fave grandpawrent. Also, the AC feels so lovely when it's a zillion degrees Celsius or something in my yard, that I've been napping even more than usual- if that's possible. Well, Grandma J left yesterday- can you believe it? So, after dinner I asked to go out for my evening constitutional, and quite shockingly, the gate was open just enough for a slightly voluptuous nine year old canine to squeeze through. I took that as a sign that Grandma wanted me to follow her so she could enjoy giving me more belly rubs. Well, I looked in every nearby swamp and area of dense thorny vegetation that I could find but no GMa J. So when it got dark, I returned home through a wide- open gate (weird- it wasn't like that when I left) to my Mama (who I must say looked like H E double hockey sticks with her leaky eyes, flashlight, leash and general demeanor of Mayoress of Crazyville). I was quite tired but I let her clip the leash and escort me inside. I had a nice long drink and was given a bully stick which I didn't even take to my usual bully stick hoarding room. I was THAT tired. My Daddy didn't seem to think I deserved it but Mama overruled using some nonsensical argument to the effect of killing the fatted calf when the prodigal daughter returns such was HER joy. She has already scheduled an emergency visit to the groomer's which I agree is sufficient punishment for my "perceived" wrongdoing. It may be quite some time before I find a slightly open gate again since someone has turned hypervigilant whenever I exit our pack's cool abode. It is clear why I needed to join the dogster group- Dogs Against Maternal Neurosis. Very worn out from my exertions yesterday evening. More juicy details later. Stay cool my fellow pups. Remember "Adventure is out there!"- but it's awfully warm too.

Bad news & good news

Mama took me to the Vampire Vet's office for my annual exam/ shots/ blood analysis. This was not my idea of a fun Friday afternoon- although I did get my entitled share of pats & expressions of admiration from staff & surrounding pawrents. Still, I'd prefer obeisance without the pokes & prods. The good news is I got a clean bill of health from the aforementioned vampire.

Spring At Last

Yay! Spring is here. Of course, it's not officially spring until this afternoon/ I spot the first snake of spring- but I can smell it in the air. I think I'll celebrate- with a nice nap! Happy spring, Dogsters!

Petunia G- Not a B

Where to begin? I thought the evil bow was bad. Then, my regular groomer dresses me up like a bee- which would be humiliating enough. However, when you consider that it was possibly a stinging insect that caused my IMHA, then it's beyond beyond unfathomable wrongitude. You see my wrath has turned my lovely eyes into lasers. Grrrrrr to you, Groomer.

A warning to my fellow farm dogs!

Don't let this happen to you! I've been vacationing in the cool and lovely Smoky Mountains of NC- which is actually a pretty nice place to summer. That's not the problem. The problem began when Mama took me to the local groomers to ameliorate the natural fragrance (quite nice I thought) of doggy walks in the wilderness (woods and streams) for the past several weeks. You see what they did to me in my profile pic! I have NEVER EVER been bebowed in my life. Thank goodness we're traveling and the animals around the farm can't see this! The shame/ horror of it all! Be comforted, my furiends, that my Daddy rescued me from the evil pink bow (after laughing at me), leaving only the nasty aroma of "clean dog" and indignation. Grrrr.

Rest in peace, Frank McCourt.

Mama says few have your gift for memorable poignant storytelling.

All is well!

So my cytology/ culture results came back and everything appeared normal! Yay. Now, if only my fur would grow back faster on my right front leg that was shaved for the bronchoscopy procedure IV. I look like a poodle on the lam from the groomer's.

Home again, home again, jiggedy jig!

Daddy brought me home this morning. When Mama drove through the gate. I was chasing a squirrel so intently, she had to honk the horn for me to stop and jump in the back seat. After Mama finished petting and making a fuss over me, she read the four pages or so of info. from Dr. Goldman. I have been diagnosed with brachcephalic syndrome (mild chronic bronchitis/ chronic airway disease) which is kinda weird because I don't appear to be a Boston terrier, bull dog or pug- but I do not remember my biological parents- so who knows? In any case, my condition is manageable- which makes us both very happy and relieved. With my IMHA, we have become surprisingly, increasingly comfortable with manageable/ treatable even when that may not mean curable. Right now, I am having a little nap in the air conditioning while my typist informs my pals of my progress. Many thanks to all my Dogster friends for their encouraging, caring barks and woofs. Special thanks to the Purple Girls, Miss Gussie Finknottle, Chester, Monty, Maggie, Berni, Alfie, Darby and Precious. If my typist has omitted anydog- and she probably has- [good help is so hard to find]- it is all her fault and she will be forced to issue a public apology later. Happy Thursday, all!