Petfinder's Adopt the Internet Day: Adopt Lil Dud, I mean- Lil Dude!

Somebody MUST adopt Lil Dude. I admittedly do enjoy when Lil Dud visits. We play. We play. Then I get tired and I want to take a nap. Or spend time with Oldest Lad. Lil Dud, I mean Lil Dude, still wants to PLAY. He is quite a character, has an endearing voice, and is partially house trained.

This is what Lil Dud did the last time he was over: I was DONE playing. I was curled up in a comfortable Pennie Ball on the couch. Lil Dud was NOT done playing. He strutted over and put his long snout (yes, long snouts ARE most attractive), yes he put his long snout right into my face, against MY long snout.

I smiled. I smiled a WARNING SMILE. I growled a bit. While my teeth were bared, in the full "smile" position, Lil Dud LICKED MY TEETH.

Please, please find a home for Lil Dud.

http://www.petfinder.com/petdetail/18732621

Acid Rain!

It has been raining in the Tristate for days, it seems. I hate rain. I do NOT like to go outside and potty in the rain.

This is what I have learned.

Dogsters, I, Scientist Pennie am right to Fear Rain! Yes, Rain is Acid Rain! The Carbon Dioxide in the air naturally dissolves into the water drops, making rain slightly acidic.

My suspicions have been correct all along! I should NOT be going out in the rain! Every time I go out in the rain, the Acid Rain is no doubt dissolving a little bit of Pennie away. Considering the vast amount of rain in Suburbia in the last days, who know how much of Pennie has disappeared, lost into the ground water, out into the water shed, never to be seen again!

Cone OFF, for better or worse

Mom finally agreed to remove the Cone of Shame. After Friday's vet visit, my tail was declared "on the mend" but still tenuous. The Vet recommended that I continue to wear the Cone of Shame to prevent me from licking or scratching my Scab.

Scabby Pennie. Yet another job! One would think that being Scabby Pennie would require no effort; after all it's just my red and white blood cells working away at their magic while I go about my normal life. Right?

Wrong! Scabby Pennie meant wearing the Cone of Shame to prevent me from becoming Un-Scabby Pennie.

Sure, I know that the Scab is a good thing. Yes, I know that my tail is a good thing and I want to keep it. But I HATE HATE HATE the Cone of Shame!

Mom finally removed the Cone after discovering that I had pooped twice in Wee Lass' room and Mom was on her way out the door for a meeting. Mom said that if my tail was that important to me then I was just going to have to be Scabby Pennie on my own, and stop grumping and groaning around the house, leaving Mom presents to further display my irritation.

What is Mom hiding?

Mom went to the doctor today and returned home with an antibiotic. Mom "claims" that she has a sinus infection. Indeed she has been acting ill for some two and a half weeks, and even lost her voice for several days, leaving me as Nannie Pennie to have to yell at the Lads to do their homework.

As Nurse Pennie, I read the label on the prescription bottle and immediately realized that Mom is taking the same antibiotic as ME, Pennie!

Only I am taking the antibiotic for my TAIL!

WHAT is Mom Hiding? Does Mom really have a problem with her tail? Should MOM be wearing a Cone of Shame to keep her from chewing and licking her tail? Mom won't let me get anywhere near her tail end, which is making me all the more suspicious.

If Mom is have a Tail problem, I would even graciously offer to chew or lick her tail for her, since Mom is not nearly as flexible, in her old age, as Me, Pennie.

Diary Pick Betrayal

I have been rather down in the dumps of late due to the my tenuous tail status AND having to wear the Cone of Shame. I have to tried to work it for all that it's worth -- insisting on being hand fed, taking up most of the bed and then refusing to move, and adding a few random groans here and there just to remind everyone of my suffering.

Yesterday the Tristate received over 1.5 inches of rain! The back yard has become a Swamp of Suburbia! AND the echo of those rain drops in my cone is deafening! I'd like to strap a Cone of Shame around Mom's head some day when she has a migraine, and stick her out in the rain to go potty!

Plus, even with all the drainage that Dad has added to the yard over the years, the ground simply cannot absorb so much water. I am certain that the American Alligator and other Swamp Critters will soon be moving from Florida to Cincinnati Suburbia.

But today, I WAS rather cheered by being a Diary Pick of the Day.

Then Mom came home from church. And guess what? Mom was whoring around with Other Dogs AT CHURCH!

Mom should come home from Church smelling Pious! Not stinking of Other Dogs!

Tail Pupdate

I visited the Vet today and my bandage was removed. The wound has begun to heal and has a nice scab. Is that something to be proud of? A nice scab?

Anyhoodles, I am to wear the Cone of Shame for a few more days and hope that the wound continues to heal and does not re-open.

If the wound re-opens, then my tail is a goner for sure.

How can I help it if I am a vigorous wagger?

Is my Tail at the Tail End?

I went to the vet today. I am now forced to wear the cone of shame. Between my microchip and my satellite dish, I am picking up disturbing images and random bits and bytes from all over the world. I hope I do not start speaking binary code.

My poor tail is a sad tale.

The Vet shaved the hair off the end of my tail and pronounced it infected and "50/50" that it could be saved. That means 50/50 it's a LOSS!

I received a shot of antibiotics in the bum, and a wrapping of my tail, followed by the forced entrapment of my head in the CONE!

I am to take one week of antibiotics, then go back next Friday, March 4th.

March Fourth.

Shall I March Forth With or March Fourth Without My Tail?

Oh, fellow Dogsters, what shall I do without my tail?

Dog Addict

I believe that Oldest Lad is a Dog Addict. I don't think he a Hoarder. Thus far I have not caught him collecting any dogs . . . . Unless one counts all the loose dogs of Suburbia that are quickly "homed." Hmm. Is this the beginning of hoarding?

Jori, Oldest Lad's most recent Rental Dog, was returned to the Shelter and Adopted on Sunday! I enjoyed Jori's visits and playing rough with Jori, and he enjoyed playing with an Alpha Girrly. Sophie is happy to be through with the beast. Her iron underwear had not arrived yet from Amazon.com. Sophie considered canceling her order, but with a NEW Rental Dog due soon, she decided to keep the order, in case the new Rental Dog is as intent on Sophie Domination as Jori was. I suppose I could teach Sophie a few tricks of Dominance Avoidance, but I won't: I, Pennie am the Alpha Girrl.

Anyhoodles, Oldest Lad only survived ONE night with a Dog! After Jori left, Oldest Lad was primary caretaker for Daisy, the other dog that lives at The Structure, while Daisy's Man was away for the weekend. Daisy's Man came home, and Oldest Lad was rendered Dogless.

Oldest Lad stopped off at home and picked me up! I shall be spending several days at University, living at The Structure.

Obviously, Oldest Lad cannot survive without a DOG! Certainly I am happy to fulfill his addiction, but when do I say "NO?"

Holey Tail!

Some weeks ago, (two weeks ago) Mom and Dad and the family went out. When they returned, a bag of Double Stuf Oreos had been eaten. A tube of Aquaphor lotion had been chewed. And I had a small hole in my tail.

Despite her expert torture techniques, Mom was not able to elicit a confession from either Sophie or Me, Pennie, about what happened at the house that evening. My lips may be loose, but I remained silent on the details.

My tail developed a scab. No more thought was given to it.

Until Friday. Then it started to bleed again!

All Mom knows is this: She left the house at 6:06 pm.

She went to "Once Upon A Child," to buy a used suit coat for Little Lad. Mom procured one used suit coat. Little Lad must do a project AND dress up as a famous Ohioan. He is going to be James Thurber, who was born in Columbus, Ohio. James Thurber also LOVED Dogs. Mom then went to Walgreens to pick up Amoxicillin for Wee Lass, who was sick all week, and now had an ear infection.

Mom returned home by 6:43 pm.

When Mom left, my tail was intact. When Mom returned, it was bleeding!

I have been licking my tail on and off since Friday night.

What shall I do without my lovely tail? It is wounded in the white fur at the very end. I was NOT amused when Oldest Lad suggest that if my tail must be cropped, that he would DYE the now only brown end, white.

I have been acting as pathetic as possible to elicit as much attention from Mom as I can.

Dogs against Math Facts

In another one of those "I am not admitting to anything days," ALL that I, Pennie will acknowledge is that yes, indeed, somehow the Math Multiplication Facts Computer did get Peed On.

Oh, and Daisy pooped in Wee Lass' room.

This afternoon, Oldest Lad stopped by with Daisy and Jori for a Dog Wash. I was NOT asked. Certainly I did not mind seeing Jori naked, looking pathetic behind the glass shower door, but I knew what was coming. Yeah. It doesn't take a Math Wizard to figure out that if Two Dogs are being Washed, then odds are pretty strong it will turn to FOUR.

Sure enough, after Jori was washed, and then Daisy, Oldest Lad turned his Washing Wrath upon ME, Pennie. I was washed. Sophie was washed.

The bathroom was NOT washed. Apparently Mom was expected to volunteer to wash the bathroom and the umpteen towels used in washing FOUR dogs.

At some point, Daisy stopped in to Wee Lass' room and left a "present." It was scooped up.

Meanwhile, No Dog has fessed up to peeing on the Math Multiplication Facts Computer. It is a plastic toy with buttons displaying multiplication facts. Upon pushing a button, the correct answer appears.

Pawsonally, I am certain it was JORI, as he is the youngest, and therefore most likely to NOT know his Multiplication facts. This would obviously lead him to be extremely frustrated, and he probably peed on the toy due to getting so many wrong answers.

That is my story and I am sticking to it.