Easy Walk number three

Yesterday I chewed through Easy Walk Harness Number Three.

I walk better with a harness. Unfortunately, Mom has yet to find a harness that I am unable to chew off of myself, even with it adjust properly.

I went through two Easy Walk harnesses in a short time, and Mom gave up. Then when Sophie arrived, Mom got an Easy Walk harness for Sophie, under advisement from Sophie's Shelter. That is when Mom found out that Easy Walk Harness has a Warranty. Mom decided that she would once again try a harness for me.

I used my harness for several months. Mom was quite careful to put it on me when I was ready for a walk, then take it off right afterward.

Yesterday, Dad put the Harness on me, and then all he did was put on his shoes. He did not even leave the Utility Room -- we were together the whole time.

In a matter of seconds I wiggled my long, gorgeous Pennie Snout down and managed to wedge my teeth around the harness. I was free, and the harness was bit clean through.

Mom called the Easy Walk Company and she must mail the chewed harness back, along with a check for $7.95, for a replacement. If I chew through the replacement, then I believe I shall be un-harnessed forever.

Suspicious Behavior

This morning Mom gave Me and Sophie an unexpected treat: Middle Lad has not been eating lunch lately. Middle Lad has always been a Problem Child. Pawsonally, as Nannie Pennie, I would like to just bite him! This morning Middle Lad had two perfectly good day-old soy nut butter sandwiches that he took out of his backpack, to be replaced by a new soy nut butter sandwich. He "claimed" to Mom that he bought his lunch at school yesterday, and thus did not need to eat the sandwiches. If Middle Lad wastes away to nothing, then I suppose his mattress can just be given to The Wee Lass, and then I can that much sooner lay claim to the Toddler Bed, which I intend to use for napping. The Toddler Bed is perfectly Pennie-sized and comes complete with sheets and blankets.

Anyhoodle, Mom gave one slightly dried out soy nut butter sandwich to ME, and one to Sophie. The crusts were even cut off (but we had eaten the crusts yesterday, when Mom made the sandwiches.)

After we went for a ride to drop Wee Lass, the three of us: Mom, Pennie, and Sophie, went for a walk.

Then we had kibble. (I believe it was a smaller ration, due to the breakfast sandwich.)

Mom then had to go out again. When she left, she gave Sophie a piece of fruit bread while she was putting Sophie in her crate, and then she gave Me a piece of fruit bread.

Why was Mom being so nice and generous? Sandwich, Ride, Walk, Kibble, Treat? This is highly suspicious.

I wonder if the sandwiches or the fruit bread were poisoned.

Acorn Season

Just yesterday, Dogster's Daily Blog reminded Dogs that Acorns should not be eaten; that acorns are poisonous to dogs.

If only acorns were poisonous to squirrels . . . .

In the backyard of my 0.46 acres of Suburbia is a large Oak Tree. There are many Autumn days when it is impossible to go outside without getting hit in the head with a falling acorn. The squirrels feast upon these acorns with willful abandon. During Acorn Season, when I am going to go outside, I prime myself before the back door is even open. As soon as the backdoor opens, I race out at breakneck speed, not even checking for squirrels first, because I KNOW there will be at least one squirrel feasting in my backyard.

Here is Mom's question: Mom has lived in this home now since the beginning of 1999. Samson, Tyler, Mulligan, and now Sophie and I, have all lived here.

None of us dogs have eaten the acorns. (Or at least eaten enough to get sick.)

How do we know not to eat the acorns? It is impossible to walk across the grass in the Autumn without crunching upon the acorns, yet us dogs don't consume them.

Delegating. Hmmph.

We enjoy reading Dogster's Daily Tips. Today's tip did seem a bit hysterical, however:

"It takes a household to raise a dog. Before you even bring your new pet brought home, create a list of doggie-related household rules and tasks. Who will walk the dog? If you're getting a puppy, who will be responsible for midnight potty breaks during the training stage? Who will take the dog to training class and be in charge of initially training new behaviors? Who is financially responsible for the dog's care? Who will take it to the vet or the groomer?

Delineating these responsibilities before you bring your dog home will help everyone."

Really.

Let's break this down to reality.
Who will pick up poop? Mom
Who will feed the dogs? Mom, except when she excessively nags, yells, and screams, then one of the Lads.
Who bathes the dogs after they roll in deer poop? Mom
Who takes the dogs to the vet? Mom
Who takes the dogs out? Mom
Who is financially responsible for the dogs? Dad
Who cleans up dog hair? No one really, but when the clumps get big enough, Mom.
Who do the dogs love best? Mom

Dog Song

My Mother has been relentless sing this song, which initially started with Dad singing, "All the Dogs are Brown." Now Mom is catching a cold, and I believe the cold medicine has gone to her brain.

All the dogs are brown
And they turn me grey
I went for a walk
One Suburban Day
My arms are getting tired
As they tug away

Shelter Special Dreaming
On such a Suburban Day

Stopped upon a lawn
I passed along the way
Well, I got down on my knees
And scooped the poop away

Rental Dog Camille Adopted!

We received the good news today that Rental Dog Camille has been adopted! A Mom and her son adopted Camille on Friday. Camille sure did enjoy hanging out with the family, so this should be perfect for her.

So I slept in???

I worked hard all weekend, supervising Oldest Lad while he was putting water sealant/stain on the swing set and play set. Sophie spent her time surveying her realm from the comfort of the chaise lounge on the screened in back porch. Not me, Pennie. I am a working dog!

Monday morning was Little Lad's very first day of Before School Band Practice. When Mom got up with Middle Lad, Sophie got up, and then she stayed up and hustled Little Lad off to Band with his saxophone. I was not in the family when Middle Lad, nor even Oldest Lad began to play saxophone. I must confess that the assault to my sensitive ears of a beginning saxophone player is torture. I do believe that the military could tape Little Lad's daily practice attempts and use it as the new replacement for Waterboarding, since waterboarding has gone out of style.

But I digress.

Tuesday morning, I again slept in when Mom awakened Middle Lad, and subsequently hustled Little Lad off for his first Chorus practice. (Thankfully Little Lad actually sings on pitch.)

What did I get? Criticism! Yes. I was criticized and rebuked for sleeping in on Monday and Tuesday!

I intentionally slept in to FORCE Sophie to lift a paw and do a little work!

Home Maintenance Pennie

Yesterday, Oldest Lad spent the day "staining" the swing set and the play set in the back yard. The swing set was in the yard when The Family moved in. Dad built the play set in the drive way, and then assembled it in it's current resting spot. As both structures are made of wood (except of course the swings, slide, etc.,) they periodically need to be stained/water sealed. Today Oldest Lad is expected to finish up the play set and move on to staining the outside portion of the back porch.

Of course it was Me, Home Maintenance Pennie, who stayed nearby, supervising Oldest Lad, all day. Where was Sophie? Queen Sophie spent the day stretched out upon a chaise lounge chair, upon the covered portion of the back porch. I suppose in her Queen Sophine mind she is certain that she was overseeing her domain, but to me it looked like she was getting a good nap in, under cover of the screened-in porch, while I worked all day.

Maintenance Dog Pennie

I am once again being called upon to perform more tasks, more labor, to grind my poor paws to the bone.

I am officially a "canine non grata" at Oldest Lad's new apartment. Mom and I have not visited it yet, so it is not known whether it shall be an upgrade to "The Structure." "The Structure" earned it's name because to call it a "house" was an insult to houses everywhere.

Purportedly, The Apartment is better than "The Structure," but already I am being called on as Maintenance Dog Pennie! However, I can not visit The Apartment for Dogs are not welcome. Housemate Dog Daisy IS living there, but Housemate Dog Daisy's Man has paid a Dog Deposit. I am uncertain if I can sneak in for short visits. Oldest Lad was forced to give up being a Foster Parent to Dogs because it is one thing to have an adult, well-mannered Daisy-Dog living in an Apartment where clearly the Landlord is not thrilled with dogs; it is another to have a Foster who might have behavioral issues.

Anyhoodles, A MOUSE has been discovered in the apartment. One would assume that Daisy could get off one of the two couches, three beds, or the recliner chair and hunt down this mouse. But no, after living with University Students for an entire year, Daisy sleeps until noon, watches NetFlix, and watches College Sports. I do believe she studies in the middle of the night, like the rest. I am not sure if she drinks beer, but I would not be surprised.

Oldest Lad is in urgent need for ME, Pennie, to head down to University and be Maintenance Dog Pennie, Huntress Pennie, and find the Mouse, which is no doubt actually MICE, as a Mouse seldom lives a solitary existence.

Daisy Dog is a beautiful all black dog. I am a Standard American Brown Dog. If Oldest Lad wishes me to hunt down his mice, he may have some explaining to do if the Landlord drives by. In the meantime, how much work can one Pennie Dog do? I have my paws full just trying to make Middle Lad do his homework.

Inspecting Packages

It is my duty to protect The Home. This 0.46 acres of Suburbia has traditionally been called the Mulligan Compound, but I am considering changing the name. While it is quite clear that Queen Sophine thinks that she "rules" over this Dominion of Suburbia, it is clear that it is Me, Pennie, that does all the real work. I am currently pondering a name change.

Anyhoodles, I inspect all parcels, packages, backpacks, purses, etc, that come into my domain. I also thoroughly inspect any persons entering my domain. Those who might complain of the indignity of a Transportation Safety Authority (TSA) full "Pat-Down" or scan, would consider that a hand-shake, compared to a Full Pennie Inspection.

Today Mom returned home with the mini-van trunk full of groceries and the back seat full of school supplies. While Mom was busy bringing packages into the house, I jumped into the trunk, over the back seat and into the passenger compartment of the van. I proceeded with a full inspection. Instead of thanks for a job well done, what did I get? Complaints from Mom that I had jumped on top of the food, walked on the food, then jumped and walked all over the bags of school supplies.

What does a Pennie Dog have to do to gain appreciation?