They're talking about a new dog!

There's alot of talk around the house about getting a new dog. Now, I know there's the pack next door to keep me company, but it would be nice to have a housemate around on -our- side of the house. Christie has been phoning and e-mailing with the Old West Newfoundland Club Rescue in Texas. They're the closest Newfy rescue to us. So far, all of the options they presented fell through, or were already spoken for, but now there's a young, brown male named Arlo that might be a strong possibility. He's not particularly "well-bred".. kind of small for a Newf, but he is very very handsome. But, he has to pass the "cat" test before we drive all the way to Dallas to get him. If Arlo doesn't work out, then what Jose really wants is for us to get a puppy. That would work too. If this future Newfoundland turns out to be anything like Kirby I say bring him on.

The Foster Pup & Me

I miss our foster puppy. Georgia spent much of May with us then went on to her forever home. As you can see from our video, Georgia & I were best friends. I may be an old girl with some creaky parts, but having her around was like being a puppy again. She's a cattle dog mix of some sort, but she's small, just 15 pounds or so. That meant I was able to play full out with her with no fear of getting hurt. It was so much fun. So, from MY perspective, we weren't doing Southpaws Express the favor by taking care of Georgia.. they were doing ME the favor of loaning us a playmate for a month.

Morning Ball Games Rock

I'm delighted to say that I am now back on my regular morning ball game schedule. As soon as my owner gets her coffee poured.. we head out to the back yard for a round of fetch. I've noticed that she no longer uses the tennis racket to launch the balls all the way to the back fence. But, that's okay, I'm one happy Corgi whether the balls are tossed long or short.. bounced or rolled. Fetching is sheer bliss in any form. If I do say so myself, I'm running pretty well these days. I still have a little hitch in my getalong on one of my back legs (that's southern for, it doesn't work quite right.) Nevertheless, I cover a lot of territory and I'm still fast. These are the moments that make every penny we paid for the surgery worth it.

My 1st Post-surgical Ball Game!

She did it! She threw the ball for me. I'd been trying to convince her for months that I still had it in me, that I was sufficiently rehabilitated to run and play. Finally today, she gave me the chance. My eyes lit up in the way they only do when there's a tennis ball coming to me, I caught it with my practiced ease and it was wonderful. I noticed it was a lower key version... no tennis racket, no balls sailing all the way into the back of the yard, but it was good, very good. After about 20 retrieves, I'd had enough. I'm dog enough to admit that I'm a little out of shape after months on injured reserve. Still, I have to say it was the best game ever and now I'm happily tired and ready for a nap in the sun. You know, her eyes were little bright too... maybe a tear or two of happiness.

I have a new brother!

I didn't ASK for a new brother.. but I have one. A new dog moved in to the house today. He's a rescue dog.. a Catahoula Leopard Dog. Name's Bunk. I think I like him, although he's young and full of himself and I'll have to teach him who the queen of the house is. We went on a nice long walk together after a few hours getting acqainted through his crate. He likes to play.. and I'm figuring out how I can play with him despite my difference in size, age and physical challenges. Right now I'm under the desk dictating this to my human.. while I wrestle a little with this new pup. He's fun and he seems to understand not to play too rough with me. Welcome home Bunk, I think you'll like it here.

Dia de los Muertos

On this day of the dead, I send out special thoughts to some of my dear departed friends. Kirby, my Lab-Newfie roommate for many years whose easy spirit and lust for food I miss very much. Sam.. who even though he was a cat.. was the COOLEST cat I ever met. Brutus, the crazy lab who lived life with so much abandon and who never let on that he was actually a pretty sick pup. And to my human pal Alan. He lost his fight with skin cancer a few months back. I can't believe he won't ever be here to toss the ball for me again. We're going to honor his wishes and scatter some of his ashes in Bayou St. John today in true New Orleans fashion.. complete with a second line and pot luck supper. That way, his spirit will be with me every time I take a walk along the bayou. All of these loved ones.. human, canine and feline.. brought such joy to our lives that it is important we honor them all on this day.

Free at Last

The nice surgeon today gave me permission to get out of this pesky pen a little more often! He checked to see how my neurological function is coming along and gave me a good report. I still have a few issues with one of my back legs and need to regain some muscle strength. But, he's pleased and so am I. This means that when my humans are around in the house, I can be free to move around. It also means I have the go-ahead to do a little running around off leash in the yard and I can also go on nice walks in the neighborhood on leash. Boy, I'm glad my post-surgical "sentence" is done! He didn't mention anything about tennis balls though. I guess I'll have to settle for what I can get for now.

Ciao Kittens

I am happy to report that there are not as many pesky kittens around the house any more. A couple of months ago, my mom found a stray hussy cat and the six offspring she decided to deposit where Christie works. The mama cat's actually pretty cool and hardly ever hisses at me anymore. But the kittens are waaay to interested in my tail. It seems they think it is a cat toy. The nerve! Now, three of those little balls of fur have gone to adoptive homes and two more are spoken for. That just leaves mama cat, who I suspect is going to live with us now... and one last kitten (you can see him on petfinder... search for "foxy kitten" listed by arno in the new orleans area.) I think it is okay that the mama cat is going to live here. You see, she was pretty smart. A week before the Hurricanes Gustav & Ike took aim at New Orleans, Mama (also known as Roxy) moved the kittens to a safe place. Instead of the wooden box in the parking lot... she noticed a tiny little hole about 5 feet up the wall. Turns out.. that hole gave her access to the ceiling crawl space which was high and dry and protected from the threat of the weather and nosy humans. My mom found them because you could hear little kitten cries from the ladies room in the building. They just followed the noise, looked through a ceiling tile in one of the offices and voila.. cats! That's how she managed to corral them and bring them home and foster them until they were big enough to go to forever homes. I'm glad they're finding loving families and not fated to live on the streets.

P.T.=Play!!!

They call this stuff physical therapy. I call it play! Now granted, it isn't as much fun as chasing a tennis ball, but when you've been cooped up in a cage for -weeks- just getting a chance to move around is an improvement. I never liked swimming much, but trotting along on an underwater treadmill rocks. I guess there might be some truth to the "therapy" part of this too. I am not tripping over my own back feet quite so much and I can tell I'm getting stronger too. Christie says I'll get to go do this three times a week for a while. Bring it on.

Happy Birthday to Me... I'm 10!

It's my birthday and I'm pretty happy about that. Yesterday I went to physical therapy. I spent some time on an underwater treadmill and did some other stuff. I came home happy, but dog tired! It was great to burn off some of that corgi energy I've been saving up all these days stuck in my crate or the x-pen. I get to go back again Monday. You should see those little corgi legs go!