Growing old

Today is my birthday, and I'm officially an old man. I was born in 2005, which is only seven in dog years, but I'm knocking on 50's door in human years. It wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't for my body catching up with my age.

I jacked my knee at the beginning of the winter and pretty much spent the last three months in my kennel or at least cooped up in the garage. The vet called it my CCL tendon, which is like a person's ACL tendon. She said she could tell from seeing me walk in the door. Apparently it's a common injury for Labs about my age.

It wouldn't be so bad if it was maybe a "fetching" accident or something sporting like that. You know, kinda like Coach blaming his ailments on an old basketball injury. But, no, I was just running across the yard and YELP! It snapped as simple as that.

True, I am a bit of a hyper maniac. It doesn't help that I want to run around spastically and not allow myself time to heal. Jumping up and down is just a part of my thang. That's what kept me in the kennel so long, not enough scar tissue had built up before I re-injured it. Surgery just wasn't an option for me, since I would likely put too much stress on it (as I did) and ruin what had been fixed.

Now I'm regulated to a leash and my outdoor pen, but I'm a happy-go-lucky type of guy. I've been benched, but I'm not down for the count yet.

It's so cold here.

I really hate our new house. Even though I have a pen outside now where I can see everything around our house, it stinks to be stuck out there. What happened to being a house dog? Carpet, what's carpet? And me, destroy it...no way! My puke and pee surely wouldn't do that. At least I get to sleep in the garage at night, but I used to be king of my domain. *sigh*

We moved!

Even though it happened back in May, I'm still getting used to our new place. I have a big yard, but there are many other dogs in the neighborhood who kind of spook me. Almost biting the neighbor when she came in our house was not a good idea either! Maybe I'll like it here yet. When my dad gets done with my pen it might be different. Not getting to run around in the country has been a hard adjustment.

I love trash.

Whether it's those yummy kleenexes in the trashcan or rolling in poop outside...I love trash. I love to smell like trash. I love to smell like poop. It gets me in a lot of trouble at home, but I don't care. I am the king of stench.

Happy Birthday to me!

My mom forgot my birthday until dogster reminded her. At least she was nice to me over the weekend, even though I ran off for awhile in the cold rain when she let me out to go to the bathroom on Saturday morning. I'm an idiot like that some times. You'd think I'd learn by three-years-old, huh?

lacking vitamins in my diet?

I wonder what makes snotty kleenexes in the trash seem so appealing to me. Every morning I leave little wadded up remnants of them all of the bathroom floor for my mom to clean up. She tries to hide them under the other garbage, but I still find the buried treasure.

It makes my dad very angry to see that I have, yet once again, gotten into the trashcan when I know I'm not supposed to do that. All they have to ask is, "What did you do?," and I skulk away to keep from getting scolded. It ain't easy being bad.

getting better

Mom says I've been a pretty good dog lately, except for running off this weekend for a couple hours. I just get so bored in the house when it's hot outside. Sure, it's cool in there, but I have to run sometimes. Other than that incident, my parents think I'm starting to be a pretty good pup. I don't get on the bed any more, and I really watch out for my little brother (the baby). He tries to pet me from his swing, but I don't let him grab my hair. Mom said I was very respectful yesterday when they were playing on a blanket on the floor, and I wanted to be near them, yet I didn't dare step on the blanket. Maybe I am growing up after all!

It's my birthday!

Today I am two years old. My mom made me a cake, but they are eating it...no fair! They also brought me a present three weeks ago, but I still don't know what to think of him. My new human brother, Atticus, was born on Feb. 23rd. They say I am a very good big brother so far (except for my running away and making Mom cry one night).

When that baby cries, I'm right there to see what's going on with him. My mom and dad think I'm going to be very protective. They also say it's like I grew up over night. It was the moment they've been waiting for, me calming down. I still run off, don't obey that "come" command, and still bark my head off at anything out the window, but being good with the baby is more important. Yea me!

got me again (almost)

That stupid skunk was outside again, hiding in the dark this time. I thought it was too cold for polecats this time of year. It tried to spray me and got me in the face a little. Rubbing my head in the dirt helped some, but Mom & Dad threw me into a bath quickly, and it seemed to work. No tomato juice, yeah! They say if I'd listen to them and not run off during bathroom break at nighttime then these things wouldn't happen to me.
My head is still a little bit stinky, but I don't mind. You should have seen my pregnant mom bending over me in the bathtub, ha!

into the woods

I get to go cut wood with Dad today! He worries about me running under a tree when it's falling, but I'm too busy looking for squirrels and turkeys to be around him. It is my absolute favorite thing to do, besides riding in the truck, and I get to do both today.

I also love peeing on car tires and chasing pears when they fall off the tree and Mom throws them to me, but going to the woods today will be even better than doing those things. I'm am such a lucky dog.