October 19th 2007 7:27 am
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So it would appear that I have been tagged by Bo, my elderly gentlefriend. Usually, I can outrun him without even running. As it were, I stopped for TWO seconds to lick that flap where my testicles used to be...and there came Bo, out of the blue freakin' nowhere, and he TAGGED me. And he said "tag!! you're it! mwahahahaha." Mwahahaha hell. I hope you enjoyed that Bo. Go back to your pipe and your smoking jacket now!
Here are the rules of this dogster game of "tag" in case you've never gotten a chance to play. When you are tagged, you post 7 random facts about yourself, compose a "new DIARY entry" along with the rules and put them in your own DIARY. Then you pick 7 furs (kitties or doggies) say something interesting about who you are tagging and make sure you tell them... a simple p-mail will do fine, or a rosette to tell them, but you must let them know that they have been tagged. Post their names also in your DIARY.
Here are 7 random facts about myself:
1. I am a master escape artist (and I prefer that you pronounce it "artEEst").
2. I recently learned how to shake hands. I only do it for treats. Ask me to shake when you have no food in your hand, and I'll simply look at you as though you are ignorant. If you continue to say "shake! shake!" like the broken record that you are, I will sigh, which is my way of saying "get me food, woman!"
3. I love horse poop. It impresses the ladies when I skillfully, and selflessly dart into the horse pasture, risking broken ribs and stomped on apendages, just to seek out a fresh piece of poo.
4. I'm not a virgin anymore. Uh-hunh, you heard me. I've done the deed. Truth be told...as a neutered canine...there's not a whole lot of point to the deed. It's a bunch of wasted effort, if you ask me. Not as good as advertised.
5. I am my mother's favorite child, and I know it, and I flaunt it.
6. I am a vain, vain doggie. When I think no one is looking, I stare at myself in front of my mother's full length mirror. I turn side to side, and sometimes flex my muscles. I'm very stealthy about doing this though, I've only been caught once...fortunately, I wasn't flexing at the time.
7. And now, an excerpt from my favorite poem:
the time has come, the walrus said, to speak of many things.
of shoes, and ships, and sealing wax...of cabbages and kings.
of why the sea is boiling hot, and whether fish have wings.
I am going to go for a random pup stroll. On my stroll, I will tag 7 random pups. So I can't list them here, because I don't know who they'll be!
September 26th 2007 1:33 pm
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The secret is out folks. Mom figured out how I gashed my paw open. Daisy showed her...tattle tail of a Beagle that she is. She barked on me. I can't believe it. See if I don't start taking HER bones away. Humph.
Mom heard Daisy barking on Saturday, so she walked into the living room to see what the fuss was about. Daisy looked as if she were perched in the window sill of the small living room window...it's the one on the side that no one ever pays attention to, as it has blinds in it that are closed all the time (we have a neighbor that's kind of weird, and sometimes Mom walks around without her fur on). Anyways. Mom said Daisy, how the heck are you perched in that sill, it's to small to perch...wait...why does it appear as though you are halfway outside? OMD! You ARE halfway outside! And she was, that Crazy Daisy...how, you ask? I shall tell you.
Most of the windows in my house have been replaced, but there are a few left that are very old, single pane windows. The window in question is one of those. After The Incident, Mom discovered that if you press on the bottom pane of glass, it would actually push away from the frame. Here's what happened...I was looking outside through the big window, and I saw something. Then, I ran to the other window to get a better look...I'm all the time raising those blinds with my nose. I had my paw up against the window pane, barking at the thing I saw, when the glass broke and my paw shoved through the hole. And that's what happened.
Mom felt terrible when she discovered what I'd done. She had no idea that window was in that bad a shape. It is being replaced ASAP, but in the meantime, Mom has done her best to cover it up, by way of a scrap piece of beadboard that she nailed to the window trim. On a happier note, my paw is doing better. I chew the bandage off every day, and every day Mom doctors my paw and puts the bandage back on. Yesterday though, it looked good enough to her to leave the bandage off...the wound has mostly closed (I think I might have maybe chewed off the top layer of stitches, so it's taken a bit longer than it would have otherwise). Prior to yesterday, if the bandage was off for more than a few minutes, the gash would open back up and bleed a little...but yesterday it didn't do that so Mom let it have some air. I'm glad she didn't re-bandage it, it itches me terribly because it's healing, and it's really frustrating to want to lick the itch so badly, but you can't until you get that stupid bandage off first. I'm still on antibiotic pills, but I don't mind them because Mom hides them in peanut butter. I don't go near that window anymore.
September 20th 2007 1:37 pm
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It's been quite an eventful week. Monday evening, Dad brought home a new furbaby. Her name is Daisy, she is a Beagle, and she a'roos at me a LOT. She is okay though, I guess. Mom has to keep her on a leash because she tries to run away...not because she doesn't like us or Mom and Dad, but because she follows that nose of hers. I think we should have named her Toucan Samantha. Mom is going to make Daisy a dogster page, but it won't have a picture for a while. Daisy is adoptable to a VERY good home (Mom is rather picky, she wants someone who will treat Daisy like she treats us). If no one worthy comes along, Mom will just keep the Daisy Dog.
Yesterday, Mom got home from work and there were bloody paw prints trailing throughout the house. Mom called me to her, looked down, and saw what I did...which was gash the top of my left front paw wide up. Mom panicked. I don't know why...it wasn't bleeding anymore, and it wasn't bothering me...because I was still running around like I always do, not limping or anything. But Mom panicked and took me to the vet. $233 later, I was all stitched up and sedated. Mom has no idea how I could have possibly cut my foot like I did...I stay inside all day! She found where the bleeding must have started, evidenced by the large puddle of blood on the floor...but she can't figure out how I did it. I wish I could tell her, I know she is worried. Little does she know, she will arrive home from work today to find that I have chewed off my bandage. Okay, so she probably knows I'm going to do that. Anyways, it was a scary ordeal for Mom, she was very sad for me. She's silly.