Labrador Retriever/Border Collie
Picture of ♥Keeper♥, a male Labrador Retriever/Border Collie

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Home:Friday Harbor, WA  [I have a diary!]  
Age: 19 Years   Sex: Male   Weight: 51-100 lbs

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   Leave a bone for ♥Keeper♥

Keepie Peepie, (dirty)Old Man, Oldest Man, Oldes-Not-So-Mobile, Monster Man, Mister Man, and my personal fav, The Marquis de Sad, as he is one mopey dawg.

Doggie Dynamics:
not playfulvery playful

Quick Bio:
-mutt-dog rescue

Playing goalie for the SW Soccer Crew AND centerfield for the Junior Big Boys Batting League, sitting on laps, sleeping under the covers, giving kisses and (unfortunately) barking at little old ladies.

Bessie at the moment, ear wax, lost balls, when I cut the walks short.

Favorite Toy:
Anything that can be thrown.

Favorite Food:
Everything but Doritos (so discerning).

Favorite Walk:
Anywhere as long as he's exhausted at the end(he won't get in the car otherwise).

Best Tricks:
Speaks English, cleans the dinner plates, and would drive himself to the park if I didn't hide the car keys.

Arrival Story:
When Keeper was three months old, he was left chained to a porch by a family that was on vacation, with no water or food, in southeast Alaska(supposedly the neighbors were feeding him). After walking past him a few times and seeing his misery(he was covered in his own poop!), I couldn't help myself; called animal control and now he's mine(I actually pretended I would just foster him until I found him a good home, but we both knew we were forever).

Keeper is one of 11 littermates born on the 4th of July in Sitka, Alaska. He was adopted out at three weeks old as the mother couldn't care for all the pups. I remember seeing the pups around town and wishing I could have one, but being a puppy on a fishing boat didn't seem like the best life. However, once I was done for the season, and I saw those sad eyes, I was smitten. Keepie still gets real upset about being left alone(ahhwoooooo!), and he wilts if you look at him wrong, but mostly he is a big lover of a lap dog. I love him so much; he is my best friend and I hope he can someday forgive me for getting him a little sister. PLEASE NOTE: Opt to Adopt! With 8-12 million animals being euthanized a year(that's 1 every 4 seconds), not to mention the unsung deaths of the homeless, neglected and abused, adopting from your local shelter or rescue organization not only feels great, it's a real solution to the epidemic of pet overpopulation. And don't forget...please spay or nueter your pet!

Forums Motto:
Old Man

I've Been On Dogster Since:
November 23rd 2004 More than 12 years!

Rosette, Star and Special Gift History

Dogster Id:

Meet my family
Lou Bop♥

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See all my Pup Pals
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When I was Young, by Keeper Peeper

An Open Letter To My Mom

January 17th 2005 7:35 pm
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Okay, here's the deal, a few specifications, if you will. I have been around you for almost eight years now, and plan on being around for another eight, but you HAVE to start listening to me. I know you can understand what I'm trying to say, even if you do reduce me to a pathetic, whiny and mopey dope hound.
Case in point: Remember when you and the Guy Who Lets Me Eat The End Of His Burrito, aka, The Boyfriend Who Kicked Me Out Of The Bed And Looks Like He's Here To Stay would play "Where's Keepie"? That deplorable game where you would throw the ugly orange afghan on me and pretend that I was "invisible". Just how long was I "invisible" before I ran over and started gobbling up the cat food? Huh? About five seconds.
You see, I'm smart, maybe smarter than you. That said, your obviously not stupid, but when I come and put my head in your lap, I'm not asking for a rub. I want to go for a walk, like now. And not some worthless lap around the soccer field, I want an honest-to-god hour long run down the wash and back. And if you can't take me to the wash, have the heart to play ball with me. Heart meaning don't stop until mine is about to burst.
While I have your attention, we also need to address my feeding times. This whenever-you-get-around-to-it business doesn't work for me. It's 8AM, and 5PM sharp, and don't bother if it's just kibble; I want kibble, wet food AND warm water, otherwise I'll be forced to forage for myself. Like outta the garbage can. Or maybe I'll just make myself "invisible" and head over to the cat bowl.
As for Bessie, she can stay, but only because I get to bat clean-up on her food bowl and her forgotten half-chewed greenies.
So let's just cut the cute stuff and get back to the basics, okay? Exercise and food, more food and exercise. Well, and maybe let me on your lap once in a while? Oh, yeah, and then pet me real good, and let me lick you all over. NO! Darn it, I'm being serious now. Yeah, scratch me right there...ooh, I love you, Mom, you're the best ever. Do whatever you want, just don't stop scratching me!


I'm the Man

December 2nd 2004 7:39 am
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Another Thanksgiving came and went, and did i see any turkey? No..., that's because I had prime rib!(ugh, and too much, it made me fart.) Of course, my mom made me eat some vegetables too, but she was smart enough to mix in the punkin pie with them, so I didn't turn up my nose.
After our big meal, we all went camping out in the southern Arizona desert. I don't know how many times I have tried telling the humans, but camping isn't exactly a vacation for me. At home I get to sleep in(under the covers, naturally), loll around in the sunshine, maybe stroll down to the park, but out in the big, bad wildnerness I have to be on patrol 24/7. Those da*n coyotes just don't give up, sundown til sunup they are out there causing a commotion. At least there is a warm fire I can lie next to, while everyone else is cozy in the tent(Bessie, I'm talking to you!). And all that talk about female coyotes tempting male dogs out into the pack is pure rubbish. I'm much too old for that kind of stuff, you know.
Yep, I just about exhausted myself keeping those varmints away from my campsite. Or at least my farts did.


Why, Pray Tell...?

November 25th 2004 7:26 am
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Please, can someone tell me, after almost eight great years of being numero uno in my household(save one sad puplet that moved on), has my human brought home this...this...puppy?
Was it something I did in a past life? Does my breath really smell that awful?(Wait, that's a rhetorical question). Does she not love me anymore?(Not possible, I'm too lovable.) More importantly, am I expected to share? Look, I'll share my toys, and her affection if I'm forced to, but nothing comes between me and my food bowl, got that?
I suppose the little rescue mutt is kind of cute(did I just write that?), and it is sort of fun to have someone to play with, but if I had it my way, I would be the only one around here(the boyfriend can stay cuz he feeds me bacon fat).
Hmph. I'll have to chew on this one for a while. Bessie! Go get me a rawhide!

See all diary entries for ♥Keeper♥