The Great Injustice

So the other day my parents were driving me insane… bicker bicker bicker... snap snap snap…

I tried bringing them my Tug rope. EVERY dispute in life can be solved by Tug. As a dog I am aware of the greater workings of the world and I try to hard to teach Mom, but she NEVER gets it. Instead of a cleansing round of Tug I got the “NOT NOW BEAR!”

Well I have never been so offended in my life! Shoot a dog for caring why don’t you?

I tried flopping, in high dramatic fashion, down on my bed and whining pathetically while lying flat out on my side… did they rush to my aid to see what was happening??? NO! Did they even care that I could have been under great duress?! NO! All I got was “Bear! SHUSH”

No loving strokes, no caring scratches… not even a COOKIE….just “SHUSH”. That was it! I was done trying to help them attain great inner peace with a round of Tug. Human WOMEN! I don’t get them at all!

And do you want to know what they were snapping about?

Cabinet organization!

Have you ever heard of anything so ridiculous in your entire life? There are dogs in shelters all over the country, minutes from euthanasia and all Mom cared about was what position the Tupperware was in?! What is wrong with you people? Go get a stuffed toy and rip it apart…much better use of time and aggression!

By the time they made up and went out to dinner I decided that the only way I could guarantee peace tomorrow was to take care of the situation myself…. And as soon as I opened the cabinet under the sink I could see their issue! Who it the heck needed all those boxes and bottles??? I got right to work….

GOD it was such a grueling undertaking…. I had to strip the cardboard from around the contents…. And then put all those plastic bags, garbage bags, zip-locs, and Tupperware in piles about the kitchen so I could have some room to work on those bottles. I was just about finished with taking all the Palmolive and Brasso out when they were back!

I was so sure they’d be thrilled with how very helpful I was… I am after all a German Shepherd and that is what we do best!! Work hard to help our families! I bounded off to greet them… and….

OH MY GOD. I can never walk outside again! I can’t. OH for the humiliation. Lucky was sure to have heard everything through the fence and I bet he told Mickey and his brother… and you know Maltese’s… they tell EVERYBODY everything!

I would not make a nice rug by the fireplace! I would not make a nice warm hat and gloves! I’m already neutered! You’d be BORED with a cat! MOM YOU DO NOT WANT TO TRADE ME IN FOR A BASSET HOUND!!

And making me work an hour indoors with that stupid obedience is just MEAN. And threatening me with a long walk even if it is -1 outside is WRONG.

I WAS HELPING! It isn’t my fault you came back before I finished! I demand a fair trial before being incarcerated by a crate! I AM THE INJURED PARTY HERE!

Injustice knows no bounds.

In protest,
Bear

Bunnies…not just for breakfast.

Well my fellow Dogsters…. It is time I came clean. It has taken almost a year for me to be able to stand up and claim to all dog-kind that I Bear-dawg, former cat annihilator have reversed my opinion on the edibility of small furry creatures.

I admit I was afraid that my reputation on the street might suffer if anyone were to think I didn’t regularly pummel small woodland like beings but I realized it takes a bigger dog to face the world and admit that we can all get along.

And I am BIGGER than all the other dogs on the street except that Great Dane two blocks over, and I still say no dog is that large naturally…but anyhow….

There is nothing wrong with having a rabbit as a sister.

If I choose to share my bed by the heater with her when we’re watching TV is that something to be ashamed of?

NO.

And if I defend her honor while Mom is busy making breakfast and Lucy decides that Turtle the bunny is an appetizer…I ask you is that wrong?

OF COURSE NOT.

And if the lap top were to fall off the couch and snap the internet card in the process of knocking the puppy back into good manners is that any reason for one’s mom to come storming in and reenact a scene from the Exorcist? (Who knew a human head could spin like that)

HELL NO.

At least the puppy got crated.

~Signing off ~
Bear

A Newbie's Introduction to Counter Surfing

Ahem.

In raising my little sister the proper way (trust me Mom would make a mess out of it, no matter what she thinks) it has come to my attention that some dogs may not understand the sport of COUNTER SURFING.

Counter Surfing is not a sport to be undertaken by the faint of heart. It is full of perils and situations that may shorten a dog’s lifespan by months. I will review the dangers later on, but for now, let’s start with a quick definition.

Counter Surfing is the art of taking something that was YOURS (see previous post YOURS, MINE & OURS for an explanation) and making it MINE. The main objective of counter surfing is to get an edible food item (this is especially valid for you fellow ‘large boned’ dogs who have been tortured by the word D.I.E.T). If no food items are available, things to be destroyed are valid choices; i.e., paper towels, sponges (preferably old and seasoned), baking sheets and bags of any sort.

As any seasoned Counter Surfing Professional will tell you, Counter Surfing is best only done when you are ‘On Duty Protecting the House’ (Oh please Mom, I SO KNOW you have a home security system, don’t waste your breath on that when you LEAVE ME ALONE)….or in other words, when you are home alone without any humans.

An important note: all Counter Surfing done with a human home at the time qualifies as Extreme Sports and should only be attempted by an Advanced Surfer. In other words, if you’re a newbie, don’t even think about it.

The dangers of Counter Surfing are vast but the key hazards to be aware of are:

1. Foul tasting cleaning items in appealing looking bottles, though Palmolive Lavender isn’t half bad.
2. Delicious looking wooden blocks that hold sharp objects
3. Glass jars; they just shatter and make the food all crunchy
4. Plastic jars that you can chew the lid off, beware of snout entrapment. OUCH.
AND MOST IMPORTANTLY
5. Really cranky human with a loud voice and the ability to put you in your crate or in a stay for hours. (moms usually qualify as this type of human)

Now humans are the goalies in this sport. It is their jobs to ‘protect’ the counters from any ‘goals’ being made by the Counter Surfer. To the newbie, please be aware that most of their moves are sophisticated and could appear frightening unless you aware of how harmless they are.

Human Defense Move #1: Pans of water lining the counter. Funny right? Please, those pans are just added chewables, sure you might get surprised by the wetness, but listen, it only dries and then you can go back to pulling things off.

Human Defense Move #2: Duct Tape. Okay now this one could shock the uninitiated. You jump up and bam! Your paws are met with this sticky, grabbing feeling. Now don’t panic…. It might take a few days to get past it, but resist the urge to run away and FOCUS on the prize….imagine someone was silly enough to leave out a loaf of bread…that weird feeling on your paws will be forgotten by the time you’ve torn into the plastic and are half way through the loaf. You can lick your paws later if it makes you feel any better.

Human Defense Move #3: Sandpaper. Sure it feels uncomfortable, it might even scratch your toes a bit, but if you’ve overcome the Duct Tape you can overcome the sandpaper. Reread Human Defense Move #2 and perhaps add in some yoga to get to a doggy Zen place before placing your paws on the sandpaper.

Human Defense Move #4: Flypaper. This one is a toughie, it is a borderline foul and in my opinion should be an outlawed defensive tactic. It sticks hard and fast to any surface of a Counter Surfer, plan on a week or so to overcome this obstacle. Maneuvers of both Human Defense Move #2 and #3 will need to be applied. Be prepared to have to ask your human for assistance in removing said flypaper. Peeing on the hall carpet in retaliation is acceptable.

Human Defense Move #5: Electronic Assistance: Comes in two forms, sound or pulsing mat. Do not view these expensive tactics as anything but what they are – pathetic! Simply pull off and immediately destroy. The more expensive the item, the smaller pieces it should be in by the human’s return.

Now your human may up the stakes of Counter Surfing and leave everything off the counters. Don’t worry. The game is still on. Nobody ever remembers everything 100% of the time. A Counter Surfer always knows how to act uninterested in everything until the counters are fully loaded once more… then SLAM! Make your move!

As a final note: when you encounter danger #5, the cranky human, the best offensive maneuver to make is to go belly up, lift your front leg to your chin and start to whine loudly. They’ll feel guilty a second later and you **MAY** even get a cookie out of it.

Ciao!
Bear

It is NOT a 'sleep over party'!

Mom, you cannot fool me by putting the suitcase in another room; a suitcase out of the closet is a suitcase out of the closet.

I also notice that you’ve started to talk all goo-goo sappy sweet to me. This coupled with the extra cookies yesterday and that chew hoof means just one thing…. You are going away and I’m not, and that combo means one thing only….

The kennel.

K. E. N. N. E. L.

Not Doggy Camp (as you are so fond of calling it), not the spa (who in the hell are you kidding) and certainly not “Bear-dawg’s very own vacation”.

Get a grip.

You can say whatever you want to make yourself feel better but deep down you KNOW what you have done.

Abandoned me.

Plain and simple.

What kind of a caring, loving, dog parent DOES THAT????!!!!

I don’t CARE that petsitter Tim was booked.

I don’t CARE that Grandma still hasn’t gotten over the ‘rug incident of ‘03’

I don’t CARE that Auntie Annette feels I don’t listen to her at all…. I DO, despite everyone claiming I only listen to you ….and besides, I only pulled her off her feet once and took off and I was VERY VERY careful not to get hit by a car, you just didn’t SEE the gestures that squirrel was making!! Mom you would have been horrified and **told** me to go after him.

So you see, I was just thinking of you.

You know what? Last time there was this one really sweet girl who worked there who just ADORED me. I think I’ll go home with her.

After all she LOVES me.

Your former dog,
Bear

Yours, Mine & Ours….

Okay I have to admit, now that my little sister has stopped grabbing onto the apron strings and has started to learn how to wrestle, she isn’t so bad. Plus I think her going from 10 pounds to 16 pounds has helped with her ability to play tug.

She still can’t pull worth a damn but she is rather good at holding on while I fling her about…which is a GREAT game because I can hear Mom’s breathing do that funny hitch when little Lucy goes airborne.

Next time there is an anti anxiety medication commercial on during Desperate Housewives I’m going to have to make sure Mom pays attention… because really, Lucy is fine! I have only tossed her into the built in hutch ONCE. And she BOUNCED just fine.

But all this is neither here no there…. Today we need to review the topic of YOURS, MINE and OURS as it correlates to all dog related paraphernalia in the home.

YOURS…. Yours refers to anything Mom you have your hands on or anything on the couch or end tables… Yours might be something that COULD become MINE if my liquid, brown-eyed stare reduces you to mush. Yours could also become MINE if you leave the house and leave something of YOURS on the counter.

MINE…. Mine is anything I have had my mouth on. This refers directly to YOU. YOU are MINE. Mine is most certainly my tug rope, all balls, all dog beds, all food items NOT in the YOURS category and all stuffed toys **INCLUDING** bits and pieces of said stuffed toys after I have ripped them to shreds. Please note this is not an inclusive list of MINE. Mine means that while it could become YOURS again, it will NEVER NEVER EVER become OURS.

OURS…. Ours is anything that you give to the puppy… since there is no category of HERS, Mom, it is time you stop taking things away from me and saying ‘leave it Bear, it is hers”. I understand that you probably never learned the proper context of YOURS, MINE & OURS, therefore Mom, it is my job to educate you.

This way you won’t make that silly mistake of telling me it is HERS, a concept that doesn’t exist, the next time I go to grab a chew hoof away from her.

Of course I already ate MINE. By definition, my chew hoof was MINE. However, Lucy’s chew hoof was OURS and I’d already let her have it for an hour! I was the definition of gentlemanly behavior, contrary to your comments. She had it a WHOLE HOUR! Sheesh, how am I supposed to educate my sister on alpha respect if you keep contradicting me?

I also don’t care if that toy, chew hoof, whatever was keeping her busy! You’re the one who wanted a puppy…

Oh and by the way can you stop her from chewing my tail and ears?!

Cause those are MINE.

Glad we could clear up the confusion Mom….

Love,
Bear

My Date with Terror

“Do you want to go for a ride Bear?” .....It used to be my most favorite question in the whole world.

Considering the fact that you cannot be trusted any more Mom I here on out insist that the question of riding in the car be phrased as such, “Do you want to go for a ride to see/do xyz?” Acceptable ways to finish this sentence would be “….. to see Grandma (cookie lady)” or “……see the Christmas parade” or even “…..go grocery shopping.”

A very unacceptable way to finish the sentence is “Do you want to go for a ride to see the vet?”

HELL NO WOMAN.

There I was all excited, cruising with you, defending the car against trucks and enjoying the Christmas carols….. And then we stopped, got out and OH THAT SMELL.

Cursing at me while hauling me from the parking lot and into the office is uncalled for, you don’t expect me to willingly stroll into THAT PLACE.

I mean in the middle of the waiting room… in PLAIN VIEW of all the other dogs is the S. C. A. L. E. The least you could do is stand in front of the display for me… and don’t YELL the number out to the front desk. Didn’t you SEE that cute Golden in the next room?!

THEN.

The room.

That horrid, cold, dank place… where that perky Dr Bubbles bounces in and asks “How is Bear today?”

How do you think Bear is Dr. Bubbles? Terrorized comes to mind.

Oh and Dr. Bubbles?? Warm up the stethoscope.

And then, my very own MOM, the woman whom I shield from harm every day, whose annoying obedience lessons I actually listen to… grabs my neck and tells me to hold still.

Puzzling but acceptable, I mean Mom is a little unbalanced at best…. Why else would she tell me to come and then half way there tell me to down and then a minute later change her mind and have me come again???? But she is human so a dog has to give her some love and understanding.

So I was okay with Mom somewhat strangling me until Dr. Bubbles become Dr. Terrorist and WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT PAIN IN MY BUTT?!? WHAT CRAP DID YOU JUST SPRAY UP MY NOSE???

WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?!

That was it!!!!!!!!!!! I was out of that building, obedience, shmabedience….I did not agree to SHOTS…..oh for the want of thumbs…. I hate DOORS…and Mom…you were choking me with that collar…. I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF A STRATEGIC RETREAT!! I DID NOT NEED TO LIE DOWN!!

And then Dr. Terrorist took it all a step further…

Diet? DIET? I’m already only 123 pounds…. I DON’T want to be 119. I’m starving… I’m already half a dog! I am very BIG BONED.

WHO ARE YOU PEOPLE?!

I can’t believe you expected me to heel out the door…frankly I did think you had some semblance of intelligence for a human.

You will be very lucky if I forgive you….

TYL,
Bear

Accept no imitations.....

Last time I checked I live in the UNITED STATES. In theory this means I live in a DEMOCRACY.

To translate Mom, this means that all major life decisions are made by popular vote.

I do not remember voting to get a little sister.

Especially a little sister that wants my rope and cannot - to save her life - play a decent game of tug.

I do not appreciate puppy gates going up around the house, this makes it much harder for me to stand in the kitchen doorway and beg for whatever you have in your hands at the moment. In light of this, my pushing them down does not deserve such un-ladylike tones from you. To spare your dignity and mine around the neighbors, I will leave them up in the future.

However this does not mean I accept them, it only means I don't have to get those pathetic looks of sympathy from Lucky through the fence.

Furthermore, I do not appreciate having 10 pounds of yip hanging off my tail while I try to pee. Mom, you are always telling me to mind my manners.... so COME ON....give me 5 minutes of space.

Speaking of space..... If I'm not allowed up on the couch, the pipsqueak is NOT allowed up on the couch. You say it is only when you're holding her, but you miss all those looks of superiority she gives me. Fair warning...NOTHING that weighs 10 pounds and is 8 weeks old is going to be my alpha.

To prove it I'll steal every stinking toy she has, even if it is the stupid, nasty squeaky ball.

Remember there is only one BEAR-DAWG. All others are imitations.

TTFN,
Bear

Tug... It is more than just a game....

First off....My tug rope is not slimy.

I really resent you claiming that it is. Cause it isn't. It is just really well seasoned. I spent HOURS getting it that way. This way it isn't stiff and hard to grab when we play tug.

Furthermore, I don't complain about having to put my mouth where your hands have been, so why should you do that girly "EWWWWWWWWWW....BEAR...JUST EEEEWWW" complete with the dancing.

As an aside, I don't know if any human would share this with you, but, you can't dance. I mean what if that new dog next door sees you flailing around. I'll never be able to pee again in public. At least pull the shade.

And that comment "DO YOU KNOW WHERE THAT MOUTH HAS BEEN?".....Think about it, where have your hands been????

Secondly, Mom, it is not 'cheating' to use my paws to grab the rope if you are going to use TWO hands to play tug. I have ONE mouth. One paw is not foul play. I don't even have thumbs to grab on.... SO THERE.

Thirdly, being sick is not a reason NOT to play tug. Everybody knows that playing tug is a cure for any poor mood. It gets the blood pumping, helps break a fever..... clears the sinuses even! That ridiculous TV, while okay after a game of tug should NOT be substituted for tug. I'll even let you sit on the couch while we play, but don't complain when I drag you and the sofa across the sunroom. Also don't ignore me when I toss my rope in your lap, or else of COURSE I'm going to start whining. How else am I going to get you to play? If I didn't you'd just stew there all day sniffling, moaning and coughing. How is that going to make you better? Seriously, you exhaust me sometimes.

You're a full time job Mom... I swear it.

Love,
Bear

Its a Dog's job.....

You know what? People just don't get it. You try and you try as their protector to demonstrate that certain habits are just not good for their health.

As a German Shepherd, care of the flock is top on my list of ta-dos. Mom may not understand this, but I figure sometimes selective disobedience is for her own good.

She seems to think I have something against Black and Decker, but really, it is that horrid brown sludge she poisons herself with. We dogs have superior knowledge of what is good for you. Garbage good. Coffee bad. Its simple... GRASP IT ALREADY WOMAN.

Being a tad slow as sometimes those of the human variety are, I've taken upon myself the task of preventing Mom from infusing her innards with that horrid coffee.

Now that the SECOND coffee maker is in 7 parts, strewn around the kitchen, she'll finally GET IT. I even dragged out some succulent garbage to show her what might be a better choice. It was HARD HARD work I tell ya.

Mom....It has nothing to do with the coffee maker.... I am just trying to help your addiction.

Love - Bear

PS... to all you dogs... you may want to develop sprinting abilities before helping wean your mom off of coffee. It takes a brave dog and a hell of a set of paws to clear the human explosion.