Woof! Woof! It's fun being the BIG dog on the block!

Today is my birfday!

December 30th 2006 8:58 pm
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Max: Happy Birfday to me! Happy Birfday to me! Happy Birfday to meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, Happy Birfday to me!! It's my birfday!

Me: Hey there, Maxi! Today's your birthday!! Can you believe it? You're three years old!

Max: Can I have a hot dog?

Me: So, what should we do today? The weather looks good--a bit cold, but good.

Max: Really, just one hot dog? Please?

Me: I have to do some stuff around the house, but keep thinking about what you want.

Max: A hot dog. That's all I want. A hot dog...or maybe two?

Me: I know! How about a cookie?

Max: Um, no. A hot dog.

Now, I know at this point Max wants a hot dog. You see, he's been sitting directly in front of the refrigerator door with his nose on the handle. This is the first clue. However, I love to tease him :)

Me: Oooooooh, how about some spaghetti??!!

Max: Hot dog!

Me: Oooooooh, I have a special treat for you! How about a can of cat food!!

Max: I just want a stinkin' hot dog. Please, crazy woman. Just one hot dog.

For the next five or so minutes, I walk around the kitchen asking Max if he wants any random box or can of food I can find. Most of which he had no idea what it was. I found it comical that he didn't move his nose from the handle of the refrigerator. Finally, his birthday prank needed to come to and end.

Me: Oh, ok, ok. I know what you want...

Max: No, I don't think you do, psycho.

Me: Max?

Max: Yes?

Me: Do you want a HOT DOG??

At this point, Max takes off running around like a rabid dog! He's foaming at the mouth and barking up a storm. He is completely out of control! He finally comes to a stand still when he notices I have a hot dog in my hand. He stops, sits, shakes and trembles, whines, and "waits" for me to give him a hot dog. I tossed it into the air, and he snatched it up in a nano-second.

Happy Birthday, you big goof. I love you!

 

Goldilocks Strikes Again!

November 3rd 2005 6:41 am
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(From Late Last Night)

Max: Whine, Whine....

Me: Max, I can't play right now, I have to finish my homework. Go see John. He'll play with you. I promise!

Max to John: Whimper...Whine...Whine

John: Ok, I'll play! Where's your squeaker?!?!?

Max just stands there...whining.

John: What's wrong?

John checks to be sure that Max has food and water. Yup--everything's fine.

Max: Whine...Whine....Whine

Now, both John and I become concerned. It's very rare that Max whines for no reason, but in cases like these, we've taught Max to "show us" what's wrong by using the "Show Me" command.

Me: Ok, Max. Show me, Max.

He walks over to his bed in the living room...

And there she was...

Ginger!

Lying in his bed.

Me: Oh, my gosh! Max! Were you whining because Ginger's on your bed?

Max: Well, yeah. Duuuhhhhhh, this is my bed!

Me: Come on Goldilocks, let the Noodle-head have his bed.

Ginger: Tattle-tale!

Oh, for the love of dogs!

 

My New Squeaker

October 29th 2005 9:13 am
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Me: ...and while you're at the pet store, will you pick up a new squeaker for Max? He's chewed up all the others.

John: I've picked the perfect one up. He won't be able to chew the squeaker out of this one for at least a few days.

Me: Perfect!

John arrives home with Max's dog food, cookies (dog treats), and a new squeaker.

Max: Oh, oh, oh, is that a new squeaker for meeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee?!?!?!? Can I have it now? Please? Look, I'm sitting down so handsomely like mommy makes me do!??!! Come on, please can I have it?!?!? Now?!?!? WOOF!

John sets down the dog food and puts the cookies on top of the fridge (it's the only safe place in the house!). He pulls the squeaker out of the bag.

Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak!

At this point, Max has lost any ability to maintain stillness.

Max: It's my squeaker! Oh, give it to me! Mine! Let me have it! Aw...come on! Don't tease me anymore! I want it! Moooooooooooooooooooooom, John won't give me my squeaker!

John tosses the squeaker towards Max. Max wastes no time to grab his new squeaker.

Three days later...

Max: Mom, look at my new squeaker! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak!...

Me: Max, if you don't hurry up and chew the squeaker out of that toy, I'm going to cut it out with scissors!

Max: Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak! Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak!...

I hear the squeak sounds fade in the distance as Max takes his squeaker outside to play with Ginger. And to think, it was my idea to get the new squeaker. Humph!

 

The Grand Plan

October 8th 2005 11:35 am
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Ginger: "I know something you don't know."

Max: "You do? You do? What, what?"

Ginger: "I'm not gonna tell you."

Max: "Aw, come on. Tell me."

Ginger: "Nope. I can't."

Max: "So why did you even bring it up? Just tell me. Please?"

Ginger: "It's just..."

Max: "Tell me!"

Ginger: "Ok, fine. They're taking you to the groomers today to get a BATH!"

Max: "?"

Ginger: "Isn't that just great?!"

Max: "No."

Ginger: "Oh, it's not that bad. You're such a baby."

Max: "...and I can run real fast past the young one...oh, then that will put me on the other side of the fence..."

Ginger: "You can't escape, Max. It's only a bath!"

Max: "Yes, I can. I have the grand plan. They'll never get me in the car! I'll already be gone! It's the perfect plan."

I hear John pull into the driveway. He honks his horn. It's time to take Max to the groomer.

Me: "Hey, Max. Wanna to bye-bye?"

Max: "Bye-Bye!! Yes, Yes, I wanna go bye-bye! Yes! Yes! Let's go! Wooooooohhoooooooooooo!"

Me: "Well, let's go!"

I open the front door and Max sees that John is holding open the door to the back of the car. Like a bolt of lightning, Max takes off and jumps into the car. John closes the car door, Max inside, and turns to me with a great big grin. Max is going to the groomer. He's so gullible!

 

From Max to Minnie

August 29th 2005 10:33 pm
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Max: Why are you taking me to the Humane Society?

Me: Hey, Max! Wanna come meet a new friend?

Max: Not at the humane society.

Me: Oh, I think you'll have a good time. You get to meet Minnie!

Max: Minnie? Is that a new cookie? I love cookies! One time, I think it was last week...No, maybe it was a few weeks ago. Well, wait, was it yesterday? No, no, no, I specifically remember it was last week. Um, where was I going with this?

...we arrive to the Humane Society to meet a dog we are adopting. Yes, we're adding a 3rd dog to the family. I know, Max isn't the only weird-o.

Max: Smells like vet! Vet! No!! No! I'm not going! Not a chance!

Me: Max, come on. Let's go meet Minnie.

We take Max into the "meeting" area to meet Minnie. We wait patiently to ensure both dogs will get along ok.

Max: hhmmm... Did you bring any cookies?

I hear the door open. In comes Minnie!

Minnie: Hellooooooooooooooooooo! Oh, hi! Hi! Hello! mmmm, you smell good. Hi! Hi! Hi!

Max: What the (*#&^(???

Minnie: Oh, my you're so...so big. Shouldn't you be in the equine center? I mean, you are the size of a horse!

Max: Are you calling me a horse?

Minnie: Of course I'm not Don't be so sensitive!

For the next 20 minutes, Max and Minnie run around, sniff each other, and continue to banter back and forth like siblings. It's cute. We decide to bring Minnie home.

In the car ride home, Max asks me to have a serious discussion about Minnie.

Max: She's not going to eat my cookies, is she?

Me: Of course not. She has to have smaller cookies.

Max: I don't have to share my squeeker, do I?

Me: It's always nice to share, but I bought her her own toys.

Max: And she has to share, right?

Me: If you share, she'll share.

Max: She isn't going to sleep in your b- er, I mean my bed is she?

Me: No, Max. I bought her a new bed of her own.

Max: She isn't going to be Ginger's new best friend, is she?

Me: That's for Ginger to decide.

Max: Ok, well, maybe I'll like her. But am I still your favorite?

Me: Yes. You'll always be my favorite. Thanks for being such a good sport, Max. You're a big sweety-pie. I love you.

 

My friend is back!

July 27th 2005 8:31 am
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"She's back! She's back!" "Oh, I'm so glad she's back!" "You smell like...like...like horses?! Come on, let's play!"

I'll interject here. You see, Ginger, our other dog, has been spending some time with our 15 year-old while she works at the horse rentals in the campground of a local state park. Ginger has been spending a lot of time with the horses...and, well, comes home smelling like horses. Let's continue...

Ginger: "Listen, I've been running around with horses your size all week. You think I want to run around with you?"

Max: "Uh huh."

Ginger: "Well, drool-boy, think again. I'm tired, and I want to take this stupid bandana off from around my neck."

Max: "I have a new squeeker, wanna see?" as he shooves it into Ginger's face, forcing her to close her eyes and turn away. "Where are you going? I want to play? Awww, come on play with me!"

Ginger continues to walk out into the back yard. Max stands alone in the living room, drooling, with a squeeker in his mouth.

Max: "Um, Ginger?"

He begins to walk outside.

Max: "You see, I've been so lonely. No one will play squeeker with me. Mom and dad have been really, really mean to me and won't even pet me. You're ALL I HAVE LEFT!!!"

Liar. Max, the Liar.

Ginger: "Uh huh. Right."

Max: walks up to Ginger and starts chewing on her as she lays in shade. "No, really. It's true."

Ginger: "Stop drooling on me!! I'm tired, and I want to go to sleep, Max. Just leave me alone."

Max: It's hot...already in the 80's. Max sighs deeply and lays in the shade next to her. "Oh, ok. But, I'll be waiting for you 'cus I'm so happy your back! Plus, I really want you to see my new squeeker. I mean, you can't chew on it...only I can and oh, did you see the new...."

Ginger: "Max?"

Max: "...I couldn't believe it when he--oh! Hmm?"

"I missed you," whispers Ginger as she drifts off in her morning nap.

...and Max continues to talk about all the activity from the week...non-stop.

 

Freeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeedom!

July 26th 2005 7:38 pm
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"Hmmmm, I feel a breeze. Oh! Oh! Did someone accidentally leave the front door open?"

Uh huh. We did. And Max is always the first to notice.

Have you even seen a ballerina dance? ... arms and legs flowing to the music...graceful...awe inspiring...calming...

Now, image a 150-pound Great Dane...prancing around the middle of the street...arms and legs are flowing to the sounds of silent music...ears and jowls flapping in the breeze... and me, standing in the yard screaming at the top of my lungs, "Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaax!"

Yes. This is my dog, Max. The ballerina. A MALE ballerina. He is a goofball.

"Um. Are you coming out here to play with me?" as he pauses to ask me--from the middle of the street!

"No, Max. Get in the house!” I demand.

"Um, no. I remember specifically that you were going to take me to the park."

"I know, I know. But, I can't right now. Come on, it's 90 degrees outside. Can we go later?" I ask.

"No." he says and proceeds to gallivant around the middle of the street...

like a ballerina.

Welcome to my world, and welcome to Max's life. Enjoy!

 
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