Likes: Pennie likes the Oldest Lad the most. Mom is second. She is very fair in her treatment of the family, however, spending time with all, except she is NOT fond of the Wee Lass.
Pet-Peeves: Being confined or left alone. And if the convertible gets started, she MUST go for a ride, even if she just sits in the car.
Favorite Toy: Any WebKinz, CareBear or other human stuffed animal that makes a mockery of real animals. Poor Little Lad has had the noses chewed off of several stuffed animals.
Favorite Food: Any human food including cantaloupe. How does a home maintain cleanliness without a dog?
Favorite Walk: Anywhere, as long as she is with her family.
Best Tricks: Chewing through a seatbelt in the mini-van was a good one. Only cost over $600 to repair.
Arrival Story: Adopt 2010 Contest Pennie is NOT fond of talking about her adoption. Pennie's Story:
Mulligan was an overly intelligent, hard-headed brute, and as with so many of the "intelligentsia," rather difficult to get along with. He was actually quite hospitable to dogs who came into The Mulligan Compound to play with him, but he was NOT good meeting dogs "on leash."
Mom and Oldest talked about getting a companion for Mulligan for well on a year. Yes, let me repeat this, THE ENTIRE FAMILY, including DAD, were IN on conversations that perhaps a companion for Mulligan was in the works.
As Mulligan could be, well difficult, Mom and Oldest Lad decided to do any dog-interviewing without the rest of the family so that other family members would be spared the agony of bonding with a dog, only to discover that Mulligan did not care for it. One weekend Dad, Middle Lad and Little Lad were gone, so Mom and Oldest Lad visited the Shelter, without Mulligan, and picked out several "suitable" Interviewees, NOT including Me, Pennie. Mom and Oldest Lad then brought Mulligan to the Shelter. He HATED every potentiate.
Mom and Oldest Lad were quite dejected. Then someone suggested ME, Pennie, for apparently I had not been "In" when Mom and Oldest Lad made their Initial Search. Mom and Oldest Lad were not even given a "Room" to meet me, but rather met me in the Shelter Laundry; so certain was the Shelter that it was worthless to try to match Mulligan with another Dog. Mom and Oldest Lad liked me at first glance.
Mulligan and I met. Mulligan did NOT try to eat me. Mulligan and I played and "seemed" to enjoy ourselves, so I was adopted!
That night Dad came home with Middle Lad and Little Lad. He immediately walked into the house, right past me, and Mulligan, and did not notice there were TWO dogs. Then it registered on his brain. Dad threw a fit! "How could you go out and adopt a dog without telling me!" Uh, Mom, Oldest Lad, Middle Lad, and Little Lad, all claimed they distinctly remembered Family Discussions about Adding a Dog, and Dad was indeed PRESENT. Dad refused to "bond" with me for at least two weeks, until my natural charm and beauty won him over.
Dad's displeasure at my presence was not helped by the fact that Mulligan and I got along quite well at the Shelter, but once home, it was a different story. Outside we were fine, but in the house, it was two dogs ready to explode at a moment's notice. Finally on Day Five, Mulligan and I REALLY GOT INTO IT. Mom was hysterical. Mulligan ended up with a ripped ear. It was a small tear, but enough to warrant a trip to the Emergency Clinic for Repair. Ever after Mulligan always claimed to feel "Phantom Pain" from his Missing Ear, for the doctor amputated a very small portion that was "just hanging there." Mulligan could be overly dramatic at times, for he still had two perfectly intact, overly large ears.
The Good News was that after Mulligan and I had our Major Battle, we decided to get along. I learned to "let" Mulligan think he was in charge, with his overly large brain; and Mulligan learned that I, Pennie, as a Female, was really in charg
Bio: Pennie is very sweet. She licks, she cuddles, she looks at a person with sad brown eyes. This all hides her darker manipulative, sneaky side. Pennie licks a person to within an inch of their life, earning her the nickname of "Personal Hygeine Princess." No one dares walk near her naked unless they wish to have a thorough, uh, inspection. Have a cold? Pennie will cleanse the sinuses better than any prescription decongestant.
Yesterday, while Mom was out, I did my usual scan of the INSIDE of my 0.46 Acres of Suburbia. I found that one of the Lads had left out an almost-full box of Hostess Twinkies.
What dog can resist the moist spongy cake and the gelatinous creamy filling?
I took the box into the Living Room. I always dine on my Stolen Treasures in the Living Room. I don't know why -- Mulligan started it.
When Mom returned home, she found in the Living Room the box of Hostess Twinkies, with the Twinkies still INTACT and still INSIDE the box.
As soon as I took those luscious cakes into the Living Room, I spied the Christmas Tree. Do I want to risk being remanded over to Santa's Naughty List this close to Christmas? I am trapped. 1. I do not even know which list I am on -- Naughty or Nice. 2. How can I possibly stay "Nice" long enough, IF I am even on the Nice List?
I think that Fat Mythical Elf, Santa, is a Home Invader. He should NOT be allowed free access to people's homes while they are sleeping. AND he is pervert. Why is he always spying on people and dogs? That is just weird, and SANTA himself should be permanently remanded over to the Naughty List for Spying on people and dogs. And that is the way I feel about the stress of Christmas.
This morning I was determined to take Mom for a Forced March in the snow. Despite her Sophatheticness, I decided Sophie must come along as well. Sophie would be happy to sit on the couch watching movies and eating chips all winter, but it is my job as Alpha to ensure every family member exercises. OK, I admit I have given up on Middle Lad, but there is only so much a Pennie Dog can do.
Anyhoodles, the White Death hit the Tri-State around 12:37 pm on Friday. School had already been cancelled as the White Death was preceded by Freezing Rain and Sleet. We live on the HILLY side of Cincinnati. Much of Ohio is flat as far as the eye can see, but not near my 0.46 acres of Suburbia. A dog can't even walk out of the neighborhood without hills.
Beagle-Hound and I had a great time playing in the snow, while he was still here. Sophie sat on the step by the back porch door, looking Sophathetic. THEN she expected to have her cold feet and cold ears rubbed when she went inside.
THIS morning, I was very excited to go walking, as a couple more inches of snow had fallen, and snow was in the air.
Mom was trying to put my dog sweater on my twisting, excited Pennie Body, when it happened: I bit my tongue.
I bit my tongue and I was Pathetic Pennie. I pawed at my mouth. I shook. I attempted to bite Mom when she tried to look at me closely to determine my injuries.
After a fifteen minute delay, fifteen minutes of less walking time (!) I was able to take Mom and Sophie out.
It is good to be excited about exercise, but I shall have to remember not to get too excited.
I was a Diary Central Daily Diary Pick on Friday. I missed it. I was too busy playing Nannie Pennie to an ill-mannered Beagle-Hound, and was afraid to let him out of my sight while I set my paws to the computer keyboard.
Thankfully, Beagle-Hound has left for a few days, and I can get some much needed rest.
Oldest Lad adopted a Beagle-Hound named Copper. At first meeting it was obvious that Beagle-Hound was definitely NOT four years old like The Shelter estimated. Beagle-Hound has far too much puppy left in him to be four! He "may" be a one year old, if one considers him an immature one year old.
Mom was certain that it was going to be ME, Pennie, who was completely jealous of Beagle-Hound. Yes, admittedly I am jealous that Oldest Lad has a new dog, his own dog, in his life, but a new dog is better than a Girlfriend. And, I have moved on. Oh, not completely moved on; I just have my pack here, and accept that Oldest Lad comes and goes, and I would like him to have a warm dog in his bed.
Queen Sophine, on the other paw, had a major case of Sophathetic Anxious Jealousy towards Beagle-Hound. I treated Beagle-Hound as I treat any other interloper into my 0.46 Acres of Suburbia: I made sure he knew his place by a snarl, low growl, or other quick reminder that it is ME, Pennie that is Alpha here, and he best abide by my Alphaness. Sophie walked around with here ears cocked to the side, letting all around know that her feelings were immensely hurt. She let out random sighs of Sophatheticness. Beagle-Hound would retaliate by curling up beside her, to rub his cuteness into the festering wound of her feelings of betrayal.
Mom kept talking about adopting and deploying a Beagle-Hound: Beagle-Hound found every little item that was left on the floor and raced around the house with his prizes. That reminded Mom that when Mulligan was here, the house was always cleaner, because no one dared leave anything out for Mulligan to find.
I think Mom was just joking about deploying a Beagle-Hound, however, as she appreciates that while Sophie and I may not help her keep the house clean of clutter, it is actually nice that we do NOT have as much energy as Beagle-Hound.