Daisy Duke's Brittany Blog

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Friendship Tunnel--Busted!!!

December 10th 2011 9:48 am
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Dear Diary,
Suzy's unfairness has got to stop.

A few months ago, the dogs next door (Burger and Caramel) and I dug a "friendship tunnel" under the fence. We had a lovely block party going (I got to swim in their pool! Woo Hoo!) until Burger got his head stuck under the fence--he's a lot bigger than I am--and then Suzy discovered I was missing from our yard. So, Suzy and the neighbor humans closed up the entrance to the friendship tunnel (sorry, Burger & Caramel!) but I never forgot about the fun we had.

The past few weeks, I have decided to get on Suzy's last remaining (and mostly frayed) nerve by excavating a new friendship tunnel. Burger's mistake, as I see it, was that he started digging the tunnel next to the fence. So I've decided to create a number of new tunnel openings at various strategic points in the yard. This way, Suzy can't tell which one will be the real friendship tunnel opening. I can't tell either, but that is beside the point. The one in the middle of the grass looks the most promising. I've been working on each of them in turn, until discovered by Suzy. She finds me digging industriously, and then totes me over to the hose, muttering "DOG!" under her breath, and washes the telltale mud out from between my fashionably furry toes. I have to wait a day or so for her muttering to subside before I sneak out and work on another of the tunnels. So far I've made some progress: about 10 possible tunnel entry sites, most are about 15 feet away from the fence, but, hey, they say anything worth doing is worth doing well, right? I've also discovered some fascinating smelling pipe that Suzy called a "sewer connection" when she wasn't sighing and exclaiming "DOG!" Further excavation is definitely needed in that site.

All in all, I am disappointed that Suzy fails to see the value in rebuilding the friendship tunnel. She often says we need to be friendly to our neighbors. She also says something about "do unto your neighbor as you would have them do to you"--well, Burger dug the first tunnel so I am trying to reciprocate! Why can't Suzy see that? In this holiday season, I am hoping Suzy will embrace the friendship tunnel for what it is: a symbol of peace and goodwill!
love,
Daisy Duke

 

Dogster Diary of the Day! Me!

June 18th 2011 2:36 pm
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Who is the Dogster Diary of the Day? Me!!!!! Wooo hoooooooo!

 

Bump. Nudge. You know what I mean.

June 18th 2011 2:27 pm
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Dear Diary,
As you probably know, I've been working with Suzy on her communication skills. She is noticeably deficient in reading my mind, or in understanding when I give her the "eye". So I have had to resort to that time-tested tool among domestic dogs: the nudge. Right now, for example, Suzy is tapping away at the computer, and I want her to play with me. Nudge. First to the forearm. Then a gentle bump to the leg, then the hand, if available. Accompany it with attentive eyes and a nice head cock and --voila!-- Suzy gets up. This time--eureka!--Suzy gets my meaning and comes outside for a nice game of catch the squeaky-stingray-toy. Maybe there's hope for her learning, after all.
love,
Daisy Duke

 

Patience is a Virtue

June 17th 2011 10:43 am
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Dear Diary,
The life of a dog is really about patience and waiting. And waiting. And waiting some more. Each morning, for example, I wait for Suzy to wake up. I help the process along by engaging in ritual licking of all of my nether regions and feet, followed by some smacking of lips, grunting licks near the underside of my tail, and a few loud sighs. Usually this causes the larger human to get up, but not my Suzy. Occasionally I need to pop up and put my front feet on her bed and stare at her, or jump on her head. She responds with something that sounds like "Dadgummit DOG" and a feeble attempt at a correction sound. By the way, her breath is terrible in the morning. She should try licking her tail to take care of that.

After Suzy staggers over to the closet, the second phase of the waiting game begins. I call it the garment game. Garments come off, other garments go on, back and forth. I lie down and sigh, and give her my most reproachful look. ("Really, Suzy, you look fine. Let's GO!!!") If she doesn't speed it up, sometimes I give a fake squat to let her know that I am not above threatening to pee on the carpet. I never do it, mind you, I just want to remind her that waiting with a full bladder isn't fun. After she grabs the leash and a holy poop bag, we are off on our walk. Good thing my patience was rewarded!
love,
Daisy Duke

 

I'm an Only Dog Again...

August 27th 2010 5:56 am
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Dear Diary,
I am an "only dog" again, since my foster brother Cookie was adopted this week. Now, we all know that Cookie could be annoying, since he liked to follow me around when I chased rodents, yet he lacked my super-rodent-seeker-instincts and got in my way. But, strangely enough, I miss him. Now I can't lick his food bowl clean after he finishes dinner. And Suzy has been less generous with the salmon biscuits now that Cookster is gone.
On the plus side, our morning walks have turned into morning jogs again, and the olfactory rush from sniffing at a run is better than a morning coffee (or at least I keep telling Suzy this, but she still goes for the coffee--go figure). No more peeing on Cookie's head, either, when he used to get too curious about what I was doing when I squatted...
I wish him well in his new home. But I am glad I don't have to share my toys anymore. Or my rodents!
love,
Daisy Duke

 

Suzy the Repo Chick

August 1st 2010 3:44 pm
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Dear Diary,
I am barking mad. Today, Suzy took me out in the yard to pee. I went over to my favorite spot, and due to my outstanding hunting prowess, flushed a robin that was hiding in the grass. I grabbed it and brought it down before Suzy could even get the word "GROSS" out of her mouth. Then I took my prize in my mouth (still warm and feathery--yum!) and brought it up into the woods. I figured I would need to hide it from my pesty foster brother Cookie, who is kind of like a canine garbage can and will eat anything. But it was SUZY my SUZY who ganged up on me with the other human and repo'ed my prize bird. She didn't give it back, either. They put it in one of the holy poop bags that she uses for poop collection. Are dead birds holy to Suzy too? But why, oh why, would she steal my prize from me? I am a bird dog, after all. So much for the robin tartare I had planned for dinner.
Love,
Daisy Duke

 

Ready, Aim, Fire!

July 15th 2010 5:29 pm
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Dear Diary,
A few months ago, my foster sibling Cookie stole a sponge and ate it. That night, he experienced some gastric distress, and disgorged the contents of his stomach, and the partially digested sponge, on Suzy's living room area rug. Suzy found the puke piles that morning, and after her usual rant of "DOG!" and sighing and carrying on, she cleaned up. Alas, the rug was permanently stained a bile yellow color in the "recipient spots" and Suzy decided to roll up the rug and trash it. Cookie has yet to eat another sponge, but I commend him for his aim. In a house full of hardwood floors, he found the most comfy spot to make his gastric deposit. Well done, Cookie!

So, this morning, I was out in the yard hunting for and eating cicadas (when they buzz in your throat on the way to your stomach--whoo! now THAT's better than hot sauce!). I ate a bunch of grass to wash them down, since the buzzing kind of upset my tummy a bit. Suzy & company left the house for awhile, and while they were gone, I began to feel the urge to barf. I jumped down from the sofa, and my feet hit the floor in the plushy carpeted room (one of two in the house with wall-to-wall carpeting) and I hurled, about three times, in a neat row. Then I puked again in the next room, the only other carpeted one in the house. I felt better, but still a bit queasy, so I began scouting for another gastric evacuation spot. Aha! Just last night, Suzy had put out a brand new plushy area rug in that living room. Perfect. A puke here, a puke there, and suddenly it was smelling like home. Nothing better than a soft rug under your feet when you need to toss your kibble. Suzy arrived home, and there was a great deal of "DOG!!!"-type exclamations, followed by her saying "For the love of Pete, WHY ON THE NEW RUG?????!!!!! AND THREE TIMES, TOO!!!!" Well, the answer is simple, it was the new rug--soft, cushy, and perfect for breaking in with a little kibble-grass-cicada puke. Come to think of it, my puke matched the earth tones in the carpet perfectly, too. Color coordinated! I still can't understand why Suzy was so upset.
Love,
Daisy (*burp*) Duke

 

It's my (adoption) birthday today!

May 11th 2010 1:32 pm
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Happy Adoption Birthday to me! Two years ago today, Suzy and her pack of humans adopted me and made me a part of their pack. I am a happy dog. No more being a stray, having to hide outside all alone and eat bugs for food (I still eat bugs, but now it is for recreation and not for my main sustenance.)
I love Suzy and Suzy loves me... adopting a pup is a great idea!
Well, I am off to play with my new squeaky stingray toy!
xoxo Daisy Duke

 

ADOPT 2010 CONTEST

April 24th 2010 12:53 pm
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On Mother’s Day, two years ago, I was adopted by Suzy and her pack of humans. I am grateful for Suzy, and grateful that American Brittany Rescue brought us together.
You see, before I was adopted by Suzy, I was what is called a “stray dog” which I think is just another name for a dog without a home. I lived in Alabama, was lost and on my own for a while, then I got caught and brought to an animal shelter. Lucky for me, American Brittany Rescue took me to New Jersey where I was adopted by Suzy.
I like being an adopted dog. Being alone was scary for me, and I like that Suzy is there for me. Before being adopted, when there was a thunderstorm, I had to hide and be scared by myself. Now Suzy is with me to pat me and tell me it is okay and sit in the bathtub with me or wherever I might be hiding in the house.
Before I was adopted, I didn’t have enough food to eat, and I used to eat bugs for food. Now, Suzy gives me two meals a day. I still eat bugs, but now Suzy is there to wipe the cicada parts off of my face and smile at me and ask me if they taste good. (Of course they taste good, why else would I be eating them?) Before I was adopted, I didn’t have anyone to pat me or play with me. It took me awhile to trust Suzy, but now I love to play games with her like tennis ball, catch the squeaky toy, and chase. She loves to pat me, too, and brush my soft fur. My favorite times with Suzy are when we walk together in the quiet of the morning before it is light out, and then at the end of the day when I get to snuggle next to her on her bed while she reads.
Being an adopted dog is great, and my life is so much better now. Every dog needs a person, and I am very blessed to have a person of my own.

 

Coon Stew (almost)

March 19th 2010 5:27 am
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Dear Diary,
On Monday morning, I did my best to help feed the human family that I live with. Suzy ran out of the house when she heard me barking in the back yard in my fearsome manner, and she saw that I had found her some breakfast. It was large, very large, furry, and stuck in a tree in the yard. I was at the bottom of the tree, telling it to stay put, and waiting for Suzy to grab her .22 and take care of the situation. Suzy did not seem to understand that I needed her to get the .22 in order to turn the furry intruder into coon stew later on (see http://www.backwoodsbound.com/zracoon6.html ). Suzy is not from the south, poor girl, so she missed out on this golden (or rather, ring-tailed) opportunity. Instead, she hollered at the breakfast (or potential stew) and it skedaddled down the tree and into the neighbors yard. The breakfast/stew had the nerve to cuss me out, raccoon-style, before it left the yard, so I am plotting my revenge on it. Does anyone know where a Brittany can get a .22? Or better yet, how to work the gas stove?
Love,
Daisy Duke

 
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