December 8th 2013 1:40 pm
[ Leave A Comment | 3 people already have ]
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.
December 7th 2013 3:03 pm
[ Leave A Comment | 3 people already have ]
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.
December 1st 2013 3:49 pm
[ Leave A Comment | 1 person already has ]
Mom has put forth a new threat. I don't know if she is serious or not, the Beagle-Hound Threat.
Oldest Lad has come visiting, with his new dog, a Beagle-Hound mix named Copper. Copper is purportedly about four years old, but based on his behavior, Mom and Oldest Lad are thinking he is much younger than four.
I am forced to put up with Oldest Lad's Beagle-Hound. Last night, Oldest Lad went out and left Beagle-Hound with Mom and Dad. Beagle-Hound, mistaking me for some Mother Figure, decided that while he slept in bed with Mom, Dad, Sophie, and Me, that he would lay his Beagle-Hound head upon ME, Pennie. I gave him some stern warnings, but Mom kept insisting that I ease up and allow this Beagle-Hound to not only invade my home, but invade my sleeping arrangements.
Anyhoodles, Beagle-Hound has been going about the house finding all sorts of things to get into. He has found pencils on the floor. He has found stuffed animals. Anything and everything has been targeted by this creature.
That was when Mom realized that when Mulligan first came to live here, AND when I first came to live here; we were young. We viewed pencils on the floor as "sticks." A Ticonderoga Number Two Yellow Pencil, on the floor, was clearly just an "indoor stick," as opposed to the "outdoor sticks" found in the yard. I chewed the noses off many of Little Lad's stuffed animals. When I arrived here, it was clear that I had recently given birth. I used to go into Little Lad's room and make a nest out of any stuffed animals laying upon the floor. Any unruly stuffed animals were disciplined just as I would have disciplined my pups -- I bit their noses.
Mom simply cannot keep up with all that Little Lad, Wee Lass, and Middle Lad leave laying about the house. She claims that I have lost my Work Ethic, and that Sophie has never had much of a work ethic.
Mom says that if Little Lad, Wee Lass, and Middle Lad do not start picking up after themselves, then perhaps she should deploy a Beagle-Hound. Perhaps Mom should go to The Shelter and adopt a young Beagle-Hound to pick up after them. After all, when Mulligan was here, and when I was a hard-worker, far fewer items were left strewn about the house, because there was the constant threat that either Mulligan or I would chew on the homework, pencils, books, stuffed animals, toys, etc.
I do not want Mom to adopt a Beagle-Hound. I would rather that Little Lad, Wee Lass, and Middle Lad simply pick up after themselves, instead.
November 22nd 2013 1:46 pm
[ Leave A Comment | 3 people already have ]
This morning I went out into the driveway to bark, bark, bark at the Public School Bus, as usual. It was not raining when Mom, Wee Lass, and I headed out.
Mom and Wee Lass headed to the neighbor driveway to wait. I stood and bark, bark, barked from my usual spot in the driveway of my own 0.46 Acres of Suburbia.
Suddenly it started to rain, and then there was a downpour! Mom and Wee Lass rushed to wait under the front porch of the Bus Stop House.
I sat in the driveway, in the downpour, looking pathetic.
If I am inside the house already, and it is raining, and Mom wants me to go out; I won't go out. If she shoves me outside then I potty on the front porch. If it is the back yard, and it is raining, then I race straight for the cover of the back porch. Mom has been known to quickly install the doggie door to the back porch, just to force me to stand outside and go potty.
I don't know why I have to go outside to potty when it is raining, when I can just wait and potty on the carpet somewhere inside the house.
Someday I am going to shove Mom outside when she has to go potty.
Anyhoodles, THIS morning, the garage door was open. I was perfectly capable of racing back into the garage instead of looking pathetic, huddled in the stormy downpour of rain. Why did I not head for the cover of the back porch? I just wanted to be Pathetic Pennie. I was simply making an attention-grabbing statement. Sure enough, when Mom returned to the house after dispatching Wee Lass on the Public School Bus, I was greeted and given an over-abundance of attention and sympathy.
November 11th 2013 10:09 am
[ Leave A Comment | 7 people already have ]
On Saturday, Mom and Wee Lass left to attend a Drama Production at The Public Middle School. Little Lad was performing.
Mom was supposed to bring a casserole, to feed the ungrateful heathens. I do not understand why Mom prepares food, and then takes the food out of the house, donating it hither and yon as if she doesn't already have enough hungry dogs and humans at home to feed.
Anyhoodles, Mom used a pot aka saucepan to prepare most of this casserole. She dumped the contents into an aptly named "casserole" dish, covered it in aluminum foil and a towel (the towel to contain heat and to prevent the casserole from become one with the mini-van.)
The pot aka sauce pan was left upon the kitchen counter. Have I mentioned before how superbly my Standard American Brown Dog Coloring blends perfectly with the pattern of the kitchen counter?
When Mom returned home, this is what she found: the cabinet above the counter open, and a casserole dish had flung itself out of the open cabinet, shattering into pieces. The pot was actually still upon the counter, but it appeared strangely "clean."
I think this was another case of casserole-dish suicide. Clearly that poor casserole dish was depressed that it was not chosen to carry the Drama Production Casserole to The Public Middle School, and flung itself to it's death. OR perhaps the casserole dish was protesting the donation of casseroles -- that is actually a better idea, as I think that all casseroles Mom prepares should stay HERE, not go traveling off for strangers to consume.
The clean pot? I have no idea. Perhaps a neighbor, walking by, decided to do a Random Act of Kindness and break into my 0.46 Acres of Suburbia and wash the pot.
I still received my Kibble Ration, so all is well as long as I remain silent as to the Mysteries that Occur while Mom is Not Home.
November 2nd 2013 9:45 am
[ Leave A Comment | 1 person already has ]
Last night was Humiloween. Instead of being held on October 31st, it was postponed due to High Winds and rain. Really. Even the pursuit of free candy has to be ruined by the endless pursuit of safety these days.
I can't complain; if any dog reads my diary entry from the actual day of Humiloween, that dog would know that getting to visit an authentic Public Restroom was more than enough excitement for a Standard American Brown Dog for one day. I was content to revel in my memories of viewing and sniffing the Public Porcelain Water Bowl, sticking my whole body out under the door of the bathroom stall, and the whole excitement of my first stop on the Potties of the World Tour. (Mom made sure to rapidly push my head and Sophie's head away from the Public Porcelain Water Bowl before we could take a drink. Mom said that dogs should not drink from a Public Porcelain Water Bowl.)
Anyhoodles, Mom was gone ALL Day on November 1st. I was quite worried. Mom knew I would be worried so she had me continue to wear my Thunder Shirt from the day before, when I needed the soothing comfort of the Thunder Shirt to help me endure the high winds AND the lack of free candy.
Mom and Middle Lad went on a University Visit. They left in the wee hours of the morning and did not arrive home until 20 minutes before Trick or Treat. Mom tried to make sure everything was ready; considering that DAD was in charge all day. Now THAT is scary, Halloween, or no Halloween: Dad in Charge. Mom had school clothes, Halloween Costumes; everything she could think of laid out the night before.
Mom forgot two things: Picking up poop in the front yard and MY Humiloween Costume.
With just 20 minutes to spare before the Trick or Treaters, Mom chose to pick up poop. She did not want those avaricious Candy Seekers to step in any dog poop as they trespassed across my 0.46 Acres of Suburbia.
When Dad set out to Trick or Treat with Wee Lass, I did not have my standard Cheese Coney costume. No, I just had on my Thunder Shirt.
To be honest, I am not overly fond of the Cheese Coney Costume. I AM fond of my Thunder Shirt. Therefore, when asked what I was, this was the response:
My costume for this year was: A Dog with Anxiety.
The Free Candy was worth the walk, getting to wear my Thunder Shirt instead of the Cheese Coney Costume AND the Free Candy, despite being labelled: A Dog with Anxiety.
October 31st 2013 8:09 am
[ Leave A Comment | 2 people already have ]
Sophie and I took Mom on a Howloween Walk down by the Little Miami River this morning, before the rains began. It did begin to rain toward the end of the walk, but at least we got Mom to exercise before the weather got to wet.
Mom and Dad have Oldest Lad, Middle Lad, Little Lad, and Wee Lass. All four have gone from babes in diapers to being able to use the Indoor Backyard aka Restroom aka Potty. This of course took some encouragement and training. During the "training" phase, Mom came up with the idea of the Potties of the World Tour. A Toddler or a Preschooler very rapidly realizes that nothing gets them attention so quickly as: "I have to go potty." Mom became convinced very early in the process that often this phrase "I have to go potty," was only used as a means to get out of whatever boring, boring, boring task was going on at the time. Then whichever perpetrator it was rapidly was escorted off to explore the closest restroom, or potty; thus the phrase "Potties of the World Tour." Not being total fools, Mom insists that all family members go "Potty" or at least "try" before leaving the house on errands/excursions because Mom for some odd reason does not like to spend time in Public Toilets.
Today, this very day, this is where Sophie and I got to go: The Women's Public Restroom along the Little Miami River Trail.
Mom took us on her OWN Potties of the World Tour!
Mom drank her morning boost of Tea and this tea decided to work it's way through to her bladder just as we were setting out on our excursion. Mom pondered if she could simply complete the walk with a full bladder. Unlike Sophie or Me, Mom is not prone to simply squatting beside the trail.
Mom walked Sophie and I into the Women's Restroom. She took us into the Handicapped Stall, as it had more room for two dogs and one woman. Sophie and I were both quite anxious to grab a drink from the Porcelain Water Bowl, but Mom refused to let us. She hooked our leashes up to the hook that is provided on the back of the door!
Yes, there Sophie and I were, in a Women's Public Restroom, hooked up to the back of the door! Naturally we immediately walked under the door to look around.
After Mom was finished, she washed her paws and we continued on our walk. I may have to convince Mom to drink more tea before exercise so that we continue Touring World Potties.
October 11th 2013 3:59 pm
[ Leave A Comment | 4 people already have ]
Today I scored a MAJOR Victory.
I must set up the back ground, to relish my victory.
Oldest Lad arrived home for a visit this morning, just in time to put Wee Lass onto the Public School Bus. He has news of an impending adoption: Last weekend he was interviewed by several dogs at The Shelter. A Male Beagle chose Oldest Lad! The Beagle had to stay at The Shelter for a few days because it had a respiratory infection.
Since Oldest Lad is being adopted by a MALE, then Sophie and I still get to be "His Girls."
Anyhoodles, just after Oldest Lad sent Wee Lass off to Kindergarten, Oldest Lad retired to the basement to sleep as he worked all last night, then drove home, and therefore needed to sleep. Sophie went down to the basement to sleep all day, but I have work to do: It is up to ME, Pennie, to run this 0.46 Acres of Suburbia, and as much as I would like to sleep all day, like Queen Sophine, I have work to do!
Sure enough, towards mid-day the UPS Man arrived at the house with a package. I needed to bark, bark, bark! Mom saw the UPS Truck drive up in front of the house, so she raced to the door to open the door; intending to limit my bark, bark, barking, so as not to disturb Oldest Lad's slumber.
Mom opened the front door just enough to reach out for the small package that the UPS Man had, but I pushed out! I stormed through Mom's pathetic legs!
What happened next was amazing! UPS Man was walking up onto our front porch while eating a piece of pizza. Yes, delivering his package and eating pizza at the same time. I raced outside and I just grabbed that piece of pizza right out from his hand.
Pennie: One; UPS Man: Zero!
Mom was all apologetic to UPS Man, but I was not sorry. That UPS Man has been leaving suspicious packages at my 0.46 Acres of Suburbia for YEARS, and I finally, finally have achieved a victory over the package man.
September 1st 2013 9:23 am
[ Leave A Comment | 2 people already have ]
Yesterday was a day full of storms. Mom went out first thing in the morning with Sophie and purchased a Thundershirt for Queen Sophine. To express my anger at not being invited to the Pet Store, I peed on the living room carpet.
Sophie and I then wore our ThunderShirts all day, expect for during our brief, hot, humid walk. In the afternoon and evening the thunder returned, and it rained and thundered most of the night.
However, there is a new, far more ominous source of thunder.
Middle Lad now has a KeyBoard. Middle Lad has played the piano for nine years, the alto saxophone for seven. He has played other instruments along the way.
A week ago, he and Dad returned home with a large, long box. Middle Lad shoved aside the mess strewn about the floor of his room inn order to make just enough room for his KeyBoard.
For nigh on a week, during most of the hours that Middle Lad is present in the home, the house itself is thundering.
What Dog needs an actual thunderstorm when their very house is thundering? My teeth are on edge. Middle Lad has been inviting his odorous teenage friends over to "compose" on the keyboard.
I think that I may need a second ThunderShirt.
August 24th 2013 7:44 am
[ Leave A Comment | 5 people already have ]
I am a very Independent Dog. Unlike Sophie, who is Sophathetic all the time, it is ME, Pennie, who decides when I have needs, and then I decide that I want them filled. If Mom is sitting in her chair, most of the time I still like to sit on the couch, at the end that has the view out the front window. Then when "I" decide I want to sit on Mom's lap, I walk over to Mom, and I demand to sit on her lap.
Last night, in the middle of the night, I jumped up onto the Concrete Queen Bed and curled up into a ball, right between Mom and Dad. Dad was NOT happy, but then he noticed that I was shaking and he let me stay. He said I must have had a Bad Dream. I did not let on what I was upset about, but after a few hours I got down from the Concrete Queen and went back to sleeping on my blanket on the floor.
Sophie and I were not happy this morning as our Kibble Bin was BARE. Empty. Oh, there was a few random kibbles rolling around the bottom, but certainly not enough to scrape up for a hungry dog. Mom was going to purchase Kibble on her way home from dropping Little Lad off at a Boy Scout Volunteer Project. The Scout in charge of the project, who was working on his Eagle Scout, was LATE. Mom had to wait with Little Lad until this RUDE Boy Scout finally arrived. Meanwhile, my belly was empty. An Eagle Scout Candidate should NOT hold up the Kibble of a hungry dog. I think that Eagle Scout Candidate should be knocked back down to Tenderfoot.
Mom FINALLY returned home with my Kibble, and a Body Part.
Sophie must have her Nightly Gnaw, and the new favorite gnaw is a Buffalo Bone. The Buffalo Bones are not "bar-coded" and the cashier was new and had to look up the price from a binder. To look up the price, the new cashier needed a category.
This is the category for a Buffalo Bone: Body Parts.
Sort By Oldest First
(What does RSS do?)