Troop Dog

I did not realize that the Dog Care Merit Badge meant that I, Pennie, was also going to have to work! It was so exciting! The Boy Scout Troop Trailer was backed into the driveway, right up to the Second Garage aka Dad's Workshop. Soon a gang of Scouts arrived. I am afraid of Mom's hairdryer, but a circular saw? electric drills? hammers?

I was right out there in the thick of the action, supervising the installation of shelving inside the Troop Trailer. I even got saw dust in my fur!

I have a new title, not just Troop Dog, but: Scoutmaster Pennie.

I am certain that I shall have to get MY own Merit Badge for all the work that I have done. I should get my own badge, regardless, for suffering through Middle Lad's attempts at earning his Dog Care Merit Badge.

Used and probably abused, in Suburbia

I am being used. Sophie, too, as if Queen Sophine would even notice.

Middle Lad has decided to attempt to earn his Dog Care Badge for Boy Scouts. He will complete the badge at summer camp, but one part must be done at home: take care of the family dog(s) for 2 months, and keep a log about it.

I shall at least be fed my morning kibbles, Monday thru Friday, until school lets out, as Mom told Middle Lad that she doesn't want to feed us until later in the morning than when Middle Lad has to get up for school. If I assume that Middle Lad pays as much attention to my kibble rationing as he does his homework, then I shall be a Standard American Brown Mouse by the end of two months.

Meanwhile, I have a Grievance to file with the Boy Scouts of America.

The "Dog Care" Merit Badge is not an Eagle Required Badge.

Eagle Required badges are "special badges;" badges that must be completed in order to achieve that highest of Boy Scout honors: the Eagle Rank. (Trust me, Boy Scouts camp a lot, and by the time they achieve any Rank at all their smell is deliciously Rank!)

Dog Care should no doubt be an Eagle Badge. If a Boy Scout is Dog Allergic, then he is either too much of a pansy to be a Scout, or the parents should invest in a robotic dog to complete the requirements.

If this is my last Diary Entry, my friends will know that I succumbed to poor Boy Scout technique combined with ADD.

Ornery Pennie

I have been feeling ornery. Grumpy even.

Dad went away for the weekend with Middle Lad, Little Lad, and the Wee Lass, leaving Me, Sophie and Mom to enjoy the quiet and serenity for a few hours. We only had one night to ourselves on the Concrete Queen, but as soon as we all finished watching two movies in a row and went on up to bed, I planted my self plop up against Dad's pillows.

Dad thinks I have been grumpy because He brought THEM all home, breaking the peacefulness and the undivided Mom attention.

Last night it stormed all night long. Sophie and I planted ourselves firmly betwixt Mom and Dad. Dad tried to get us to "go to our spots," but there was no way I was moving! With the whole house shaking I was staying safely in the middle of the bed. The Weather Alert Radio went off an untold number of times during the night sounding it's NOAA Weather Alerts in it's ultimately annoying NOAA Weather Alert Voice.

This morning it was raining as if the clouds were simply pouring giant buckets of water directly from the sky. The creek just near us flooded over the road and the Sheriff came and blocked off the road. This certainly does not bode well for flood-prone low lying areas as Suburbia is located at about the highest elevation of this part of Cincinnati.

All the thunder and rain has left me petulant and sleepy. I have snapped at Sophie several times just for her mere existence.

Even more Severe Storms are scheduled for tonight, so i am not predicting an early easing of my orneriness.

Gated Community Living

I, Pennie, live in a Gated Community. When I first arrived, my Community was Un-Gated. Mulligan and I were free to roam at will. Wee Lass then arrived and changed all that. Let me make it clear that it was Wee Lass that needed to be Gated, not ME, nor Mulligan.

The gate between the Boy's Office and the Kitchen gave way in a sudden fit one night. It was a Tall Gate. Mom could just barely cross over it. Middle Lad could cross over it, barely. It "may or may not be true" that the gate had been weakened by Mulligan and/or Me, Pennie pawing at it's basic structure. Regardless, one evening, Middle Lad hoisted his height-challenged legs over the gate and CRASH, the gate gave way.

A NEW gate was procured for the Kitchen/Boy's Office doorway. This time it was the GATE that was height challenged.

Lo and behold in several weeks a box arrived from that Internet mecca of sundry items: amazon.com. It contained yet another new gate. This super long gate allowed the main access to the Boy's Office to be blocked. The "theory" being that as Wee Lass is getting older she could have more access to the house, but the wondrous items of the Boy's Office must remain off limits. (It is one thing to say "my dog ate my homework," but quite another to say "my sister ate my homework.")

The new long gate is also height-challenged.

I, Pennie, could easily scale either gate to the Boy's Office. However, I am a Law Abiding Citizen! Yes, I want to go into the Boy's Office, but I am a Good Girl!

Sophie? Sophie just leaps right over those gates! She pays no mind to the rules of Society; a gate has meaning!

Sophie not only leaps over the gate, but then she lays IN the Bay Window of the Boy's Office. Dad is NOT happy. Dad spent hours and hours sanding down and refinishing the woodwork of the Bay Window. The Bay Window produces the Most Delicious Sun Spots, but again, as a Law Abiding Citizen, I enjoy those spots on the floor!

What is the point of Gated Community Living if the Gates are to be casually flaunted?

Yet another Rental Dog

Oldest Lad has a new Rental Dog! We will meet her today or tomorrow when he brings her over for a B-A-T-H.

Camille can be viewed at:

http://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/18757533

I do hope she has no characteristics of Hurricane Camille! Camille is one of Lil Dud, I mean Lil Dude's sisters. Lil Dude has gone to his furever home, and from latest report is adjusting nicely. He has a large dog already in his new home to use as the target of his over-abundant energy.

This could be one of the last Rental Dogs as next year Oldest Lad shall be forced into Apartment Living as the Internship/Job Co-op Schedule of the University has forced the Housemates at The Structure to disband after this school year ends. Three of them have agreed to lease an apartment. The apartment does accept dogs, but requires a monthly Dog Fee. Daisy, who belongs to one of the housemates, WILL be sharing the apartment, but the monthly fee will probably mean that Oldest Lad will not Rent dogs next year.

Suburbia Open for Business!

I have grown quite bored all week listening to all the Pundits and Politicos pointing fingers and threatening to shut down the government.

That got me to thinking: What if us dogs shut down?

Who would bark at strangers at the door?

Who would make sure the family remained on schedule?

Who would naturally, organically (or sometimes inorganically depending of what I have gotten into) fertilize the Fertile Crescent, that is the Back Yard?

How would Mom survive if Me or Sophie shut down?

To my knowledge, Mom has only suffered through Two brief Dog Shut Downs, since Mom adopted her first dog Samson. After Samson died in 1999, Mom did not adopt another dog for 8 MONTHS! During those 8 MONTHS, Little Lad was conceived (which undoubtedly would not have happened if a dog had been properly monitoring the situation,) Mom had surgery, Dad injured his back and had surgery and physical therapy, and MICE invaded the HOME!

Thankfully Tyler came onto the scene and restored Dogfulness and Suburbia to it's rightful order.

After Tyler died, there was a brief six week period again of Dog Shut Down. It seems that Dog Shut Down was short enough that no long-term ill effects were felt by the family.

Mulligan was then adopted, followed by ME, Pennie. Mulligan has passed, but I go on, and Sophie has joined the family.

Obviously us dogs are doing our job to keep the Family Going! A dog would think the government might take itself as seriously.

Scary Afternoon!

This afternoon Oldest Lad stopped by with his Temporary Rental Dog, Caro. He only has Caro for a few days, as she is due to be adopted at the end of the week. While Oldest Lad was visiting, he received a call that he needed to bring Caro back sooner than planned as her Spay Surgery had been changed to Thursday.

Oldest Lad decided to take Me and Sophie along for the ride.

It all seemed like fun, at first.

Then we got to the Shelter. I realized where we were: The Shelter! At first, I tried to get out of the car. I thought I would just run away! There was no way I was going back to the Shelter!

After Oldest Lad trapped me and Sophie back in the car, I changed to Plan B: I locked the Car Doors, with the Keys in the Ignition. Darn my lack of opposable thumbs! I was unable to start the car and drive away, but at least there was no way Oldest Lad was able to get me out of that car and sign me over to the Shelter!

Oldest Lad had to call the Police, who came and used a Slim Jim (unfortunately the metal bar type slim jim as opposed to the Sausage type Slim Jim) to open up the locks.

Oldest Lad was very angry at me, but Sophie and I ended up at HOME, in Suburbia, not abandoned at the Shelter.

Queens stink too.

Pawsonally, I do not complain about odors. The subtleties and depth of flavor and essence of odors are simply lost on the humans. Ah, the wonders of a pile of dirty clothes! The aromatherapy of a Lad fresh from 8 hours of August Marching Band Practice. The sharp tang of chlorine and sweat from a family fresh home from the YMCA.

And I am not even getting into the subtleties of the odors from daily household living, such as the potty!

Still, it seems that my family, in particular Mom, does NOT appreciate certain DOG odors. Surprisingly, Mom does not mind my Dog Breath. Okay, she did complain a bit yesterday when she returned to the car after running a few errands that the car did smell a bit like Concentrated Dog Breath.

Mom used to complain that Mulligan got sweaty arm pits. Actually sweaty leg pits would be more accurate.

I, Pennie, get Frito Feet.

Mom used to attack Mulligan's leg pits (and his groin) with baby wipes.

Mom wipes my feet with baby wipes between baths.

It seems that Queen Sophine herself is not immune! Hah, Her Majesty Queen Sophine gets Odorific! Queen Sophine prances around this house as if she deserves to wear a crown and carry a scepter, but when it comes to offending Mom's sense of orderly odorness, the Queen is no better than common Mulligan was, nor Me, Pennie!

Lil Dude Adopted

Lil Dude was adopted today! Oldest Lad was sad to see him go, but happy that he has a home. Oldest Lad is a bit worried that Lil Dude may get returned as there is another dog in his new home. Lil Dude and the dog got along at their initial meeting, but there is always the home turf settling in to overcome. In the meantime, perhaps I can get some rest! Sophie and I play, but Lil Dude was exhausting!

Honor Bestowed, then Spurned!

I have had a tumultuous relationship with Other Woman, Oldest Lad's female friend. Of late she and I have come to terms with each other. In fact, the traipsing of Rental Dogs through Oldest Lad's life has forced Other Woman to realize the fine qualities of an Adult Dog. Other Woman adored Rent to Own Sophie. Other Woman liked Rental Dogs, then Furever Homed Dogs Yoko and Jori. Other Woman is infatuated with Lil Dud. However, Yoko, Jori, and Lil Dud are all Puppies. Lil Dud is the puppiest of all three puppies. Despite their endearing cuteness, Other Woman, or so I thought, was realizing that compared to Puppy Behavior, I am a Model Citizen.

Anyhoodles, last night Oldest Lad and Other Woman were laying on the couch. Queen Sophine was taking up a Full Third of the Couch! The Couch is a Three Cushion Couch and Queen Sophie with her slight 32 pounds was taking up an entire Couch Cushion! That left only 2/3, or 2 Couch Cushions, for Oldest Lad, Other Woman, and Me, Pennie, to nap upon.

I managed to wedge myself perfectly perfectly upon Other Woman, with my magnificent bottom planted against her neck and my head upon her hips. I was comfortable.

Other Woman was aghast!

Other Woman did not want "Pennie bottom in her face."

Here I was bestowing such an Honor upon Other Woman, and I was repaid only with ugliness!