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Completely Worthless

January 7th 2009 6:59 pm
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Yes, that's right. My mom is totally worthless. Well, almost. She is very good at throwing the ball. And at scratching my bum-ola. And okay, yes, she does feed me and scoop my poo and pull grass out of my bum after I graze and it is dangling. But hellOOOOOOOOO..... my diary has been neglected for months and that does not make me happy.

What does make me happy, on the other hand, is this rain we're getting. Well, kind of. See, I do not like to make poop in the back yard during or after a rain, because my little toes get wet with icky poo water, but I do like to run in the park in the rain, because puddles make me muddy and pouncy, and that is a good thing.

That is all I have to say about that.



Bahrain? Can I chase that?

October 13th 2008 10:46 am
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This morning, Dad snuggled me a little longer than usual and pet Wilbur longer than usual and Pearl let him pet her longer than usual. Then he and Mom and Auntie D loaded up the car with Dad's seabags and away they went. I have a feeling he might be gone a while.

Mom said he's going to live in a big desert for a year and that we will have to send him lots of puppy love, because he'll miss us! He's going to be in a pretty safe country, as far as countries in that part of the world go, so we're not worried about him at all (except for the part where bacteria and ickiness might take over his bathroom without Mom around- and his dishes might pile up in the sink so high that he won't be able to get out of his house), but we are going to miss him!

It's SO FUN to wiggle Dad out of bed every morning! I just wiggle and squirm and kick and lick and FINALLY he scoots over enough so that I can spoon with Mom. I'm really going to miss licking his armpits. I KNOW he'll miss that, too.

Anyway, if you could please send my dad some extra wags and licks, that'd be great! I don't know what he's going to do without us!


Neglect is an Ugly Thing

September 26th 2008 3:12 pm
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My diary has been neglected lately, because my transcriptionist has been paying more attention to her blog than to mine. TOTALLY unfair, if you ask me, but at least she's not taking time to write in BOTH of them every day. That would leave precious little time for important things, like walks, snacks, frisbee catching, belly rubs, games of fetch, and swimming in the ponds. ALSO, Mom has been bathing doggies part time at Levi's mom's grooming place, which means when she gets home, she wants to play with us instead of writing in our diaries. Smart of her, I think. Otherwise I'd have to pull out the Obnoxious Char suit, and you really don't want me to do that.


Why yes, I AM a good girl!

September 5th 2008 7:51 pm
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Now throw the freaking ball, lady!

Once in a while, I tend to get a little mmmmm...... psychotic? Is that the word? - when other doggies run up to me when I'm on a leash. Freaks. Me. Out. so I try to eat them before they can eat me!

This evening, before our walk, we stopped at the playground to watch the neighbor's kid go down the slide. Big freaking deal if you ask me, but the humans seemed all excited about it, so I joined in on the fun by wiggling TO and FRO as hard as I possibly could while the baby went down the slide. Then I goosed him right on the kisser with my mouth- yum- babies taste good! After I got a few wiggles out, Mom asked me to sit and since she was holding the ball, I sat faster than a... than a... fast-sitting-down-thing. She was holding the ball AND she had Zukes in her pocket. I was encouraged to remain sitting while the kid practiced walking, and I must say, I really know how to keep still when Mom has a ball in one hand and a Zuke in the other. I got all Zen on her, even when the kid stepped on my tail. Did it hurt? Meh, maybe a little, but the reward, the sweet reward of chasing the ball up the slide was oh-so-very worth it.

And do you want to guess what happened when a little pug/beagle/terrorist ran up to me, growling and barking? Do you? Go ahead, guess.

You are never going to believe this, but I stayed sat. My bum-oley, which is usually either wagging or following my front legs in pursuit of the ball, stayed on the ground, and even though my hackles went way up, I did not try to eat the little squirts. Do you want to know how many Zukes I got as a reward? NINE MILLION. Yes, that is a lot.


It's all fun and games 'til yer eye gets poked out!

August 25th 2008 3:32 pm
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Don't worry, pals, my eye didn't actually get poked out. It just got poked. Yesterday when we got home from our walk, mom noticed I was rubbing my noggin on all the walls, which is a very un-Char thing to do, and also I was making monkey noises, which is actually a Char thing to do, but then I started pawing at my eye and turns out it was swollen shut! So shut was my eye that it was making my other eye squint, too! Mom tried to pry it open to see if anything was stuck in my eye ('cuz that has happened before) but alas, my eyelids were NOT going to open. It was like trying to open a steel vault with a.... with a finger. Or a toothpick. Or something else not strong. NOT going to happen.

She was unwilling to use a crowbar on my little eye, so she drugged me with Benadryl instead. At least that way, she reasoned, I would quit rubbing my noggin against the walls, which was a little disturbing for her to watch. (You know what ELSE is disturbing? Having something stuck in your eye.) This morning she took me to see Dr. Cage, who I can't decide if I like. On the one hand, she is always poking at me and sticking things in my eyes and ears and poop-chute. On the other hand, she lets me lick her on the mouth when she's done, and also she gives me liver snacks.

Today wasn't so bad, though. I just sat as close to Mom as I could get and pushed my face against her arm while the doctor numbed my eye, stained it, and flipped out my third eyelid to look underneath for trapped stuff. All she found in there was a scratch, no sticks or anything like that. So I have to take some medicine for a few days and I'll be good as new.

That wasn't the only diagnosis we got today: "Charlotte," the good vet said, "has tennis ball teeth." NO it's not what you're thinking. My teeth have not turned in to tennis balls. They have, however, been ground down from 4 years of fetching. So Mom says we're going back to the frisbee, and we'll just say a little prayer to the Hip Joint Gods every time I take a flying leap.

One last thing, my little furry friends, I, Charlotte, Queen of Svelt, have gained 8 pounds since my last visit. I've always been on the skinny side, so this is not a bad thing, and in fact Mom thinks of it as a testament to all the training we've been doing lately (mmm.... hot dogs!), but we might try to drop a pound or two before winter riddles us sedentary-er than our super-active summers.

One last thing before I go- did you know that sometimes you can see people once a week in the SAME EXACT spot but then one day you might see them somewhere TOTALLY DIFFERENT? That is so weird. Every Thursday (or sometimes a Wednesday), I see Roper's mom at the trail. I don't necessarily pay any attention to her, because my tennis ball is ALSO there, but I am aware of her existence at the trail. Well today - you are NOT going to believe this- I saw her at the vet's office! I was surprised, and being as there were no tennis balls around, I let her pet me. I even snuggled her a little bit, because I like her.

Those are my pupdates for you, and now that Benadryl is kicking in a little bit, so I'm going to go take a nap. At least, I'm going to try. But there are workers outside powerwashing the building (in the rain....) so it's a bit noisy for my taste. But that's a whole other story. So for now.... toodle-oo!



August 16th 2008 8:35 am
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For the past few months, my mom has been following Leroy Sievers' battle with cancer.

He passed away last night.

Recently, he wrote about having always wanted a Bernese Mountain Dog, but not having the time for one since he traveled so much as a reporter. We hope there is a dog waiting for you, Leroy, across the bridge.


Seagulls in the Driftwood

August 14th 2008 5:22 pm
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I'm going to tell you something, and it's a funny thing, because funny things happen to me a lot. I don't know why funny things happen to me so often, because I'm a quite serious dog, but nonetheless, here is it: Seaweed was stuck to my leg today, and it wouldn't come off. So I growled at it, and tried to shake it off, but have you ever seen a dog try to shake her leg that hard with seaweed attached?

No, you haven't. It made me get the zoomies, and it also made me do the tuck-n-run to Mom, who unwrapped leg. After that, I took a little break from ball chasin' to do some pokin' around in the driftwood, and lo and behold, there was a seagull in there, so I had to flush it out. Because you know what happens when there're seagulls in the driftwood.

In other news, the first doggie who writes me a country song about seagulls in the driftwood will win some bones from me. I have spent all my zealies, but bones are awfully yummy. So git writin!


not in my belleh

July 28th 2008 9:29 am
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OMD the vacuum cleaner just ate the piece of kibble I had stashed in the corner. I thought about tackling it to get my kibble back, but on second thought... if it doesn't have qualms about eating kibble, it might be mean enough to eat the whole doggie.
So I left it alone.


Live Feed from the Morning Edition

July 28th 2008 8:38 am
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Char: Welcome to the Morning Edition of Wild Animal Kingdom! We're all gathered here on Mom's bed this morning to talk about world events. I have Pearlie Pants here on my left, snuggled up against Mom's rib cage. Pearl?

Pearl: Good morning, Char. Your welcome for having me. I'd just like to take a moment and tell you about the crime wave in Bozeman, Montana and what I'm going to do about it once the people elect me Queen of the Universe.

Char: Unfortunately, Pearlie Pants, we do not have time to hear about sword-wielding, uncle-asking loonies. We are here for the Morning Edition, which only involves snuggling, world events, and also I wanted to ask you why you had to run in the bedroom this morning like you were shot out of a cannon, diving over my head and landing on Mom's pillow. You could have taken an eye out, you know.

Pearl: Clearly you do not know the first thing about the new Icelandic study on aerodynamic feline- (interrupted)

Char: Quite. Thank you for your time, Pearlie Pants. Now, moving on. Wilbur, can you tell me why you always gotta jump onto the bed like, an inch from where my tail is, forcing me to climb over Mom and Pearl and put my butt on Mom's pillow?

Wilbur: Sure thing, Char. See, your usual spot is right at the base of Mom's knees. I find that the curve of her back is where I gain the most body heat, plus it puts in me in range for ear scratches, so that's just where I go.

Char: And have you no clue that that bothers me? As the first-adopted dog in this family, I would imagine that Mom prefers me to decide where you will snuggle.

Pearl: Actually, Char, that's up for debate, according to the WAK treaty of April 2007.

Char: I can see where this is going. Friends, stay tuned next week for the Morning Edition. By then I hope to have some of this sorted out. For now, feel free to join us for the Morning Edition any time, which is pretty much just to see how many critters we can fit on the bed without it crashing. This usually starts at 5 am, Pacific Coast time, so don't be late! In the meantime, reporting live from my spot under the kitchen table, I am Charlotte. Good day.


the forbidden branch

July 22nd 2008 9:22 pm
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On account of me being Diary of the Day, I was allowed to chew on a stick today. Normally, and after repeat and various injuries by sticks, I am sooooo not allowed to chew on, retrieve, or even gaze longingly at sticks. They are pokey, and splintery. Once a splinter even got lodged in my tongue, and Mom saved it in a little vial from the vet's office to remind me of how expensive a free toy from Nature can be.

Anyway, she took her chances today and let me gnaw on a tree. We were walking up the perimeter road, and I was on a leash. I did a little 'houla dance (HA! Get it? A 'houla dance? I'm a Catahoula.....) around Mom's legs, because I saw a PERFECT branch for fetching, only it was like 12 feet long and waaaaaaaay too attached to the tree for Mom to pick it up and throw it. So instead, she let me drag her tangled self over to the stick and when she saw how happy I was, just standing there killing the tree, she smiled and giggled a little bit.

Seriously, when Mom giggles, you know you're the best, cutest, most funniest dog in the whole entire world!

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