I was tagged by Sully!!!!

I was tagged by my buddy Sully! The rules of the game say I have to list 7 random facts about myself in my diary and tag 7 other pups and list them next. Don't forget to bark them a paw-mail so they know they were tagged and read my diary for the instructions.

1. I am a food enthusiast who wishes Mommy served chicken every night
2. I am not allowed to do anything that derails Mommy's efforts to teach me manners and courtesy toward smaller beings.
3. I am consumed by an absolute and uncontrollable need to chase ducks whenever they cross my path
4. I have extremely articulate paws. I can grab and hold stuff and play the paw game like nobody's business
5. I have this uncanny ability to wake up exactly 30 minutes before Mommy's alarm clock goes off. I use this time to coax her into consciousness by forcing her to play the above mentioned paw game. Once she gets up I go right back to sleep for 3 hours.
6. I like ice cubes in my water dish
7. I always fall asleep on my stomach or on my side. I usually wake up on my back.

Tag! You're it!!
1. Harley - http://www.dogster.com/dogs/583068
2. Toby - http://www.dogster.com/dogs/262671
3. Harrod - http://www.dogster.com/dogs/146165
4. Goldie - http://www.dogster.com/dogs/261488
5. Taz - http://www.dogster.com/dogs/584563
6. Snowy - http://www.dogster.com/dogs/333387
7. Joey - http://www.dogster.com/dogs/256096

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...... l /)"(| /
Joey(_o_) Pawz
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Joey-Aid 2007

My weekend days are pretty full and exciting. We always go somewhere or have people over who bring their dogs and I get to socialize quite a bit. It’s only during the week days that I sometimes get a little bored.

See, my days need purpose and reason. Especially on work days when I am cruelly abandoned and left to my own devices for hours on end........OK, ok, let’s face it……………..Mommy has to keep me in the manner with which I have become accustomed and to do that she must leave me alone Monday thru Friday from 8-5.……………

I understand that and I am lucky because Mommy’s work is 6 minutes away and she comes home for lunch most days to have some quality mid-day Joey time. (I am entertaining like that, you know) and this is good because it breaks my day up nicely.

I can only laze around and test cushions and beds and pillows for so long…………eventually I do have to get up and do something productive.

In an effort to do this I often engage in any method of transference that I can conceive of which works to distract me from being bored. Chasing the cats always works but they aren’t very playful and don’t appreciate the added exercise of avoiding me daily sooooooooooo when that wears thin and the claws come out I switch tactics and attack my toy basket.

Yes, I do often feel obligated to entertain inanimate household objects. I cannot explain this urge except to say that until a cure can be found I will continue to suffer in occasional silence.

As an example, today I rescued Mommy’s new purple cross top pedi-friendly fuzzy slipper from a boring day of nothingness. However, Mommy did not see the heroic aspects of this endeavor. She just saw her purple shoe as a victim.

(sigh) I can see that we will have to continue to work on our communication. She needs to understand that I am offering a service here and not just randomly slobbering on shoes without reason or purpose.

Well, there have been some recent developments at Mommy’s work and it looks like they may be relocating the offices to a place that would make Mommy’s commute about 25 minutes!!!

No more Mommy and Me times at lunch. Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

To help me adjust to this shocking and distressing development, Mommy has been talking about getting me a new little buddy to hang around with all day while she is gone. She says she wants to get something called a Yorkie. She gets all mushy when she talks about it until Daddy says if we get a Yorkie he is going to always call him Sergeant and this usually works to distract Mommy from her New Yorkie state of mind.

I am not sure what it all means except that those cats better step up and make themselves more available for recreation time. I cannot help that I have to chase stuff and the purple slipper doesn’t fling so fast that it offers me any type of satisfactory chase alternative.

Anyone wishing to offer sympathy, help and support should please leave a bone or two…………or just come over and let me chase you around my back yard a bit.

Thank you

.......-.__.-.
......l /)"(| /
Joey(_o_) Pawz
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Nippers & Yippers

Every once in a while an opportunity comes along for me to make a new friend. I love and cherish my old friends all the same but it is exciting to make new ones too.

You know, regardless of size and age, deep life-long friendships can be cemented with nothing more than a few cursory wags and some well placed sniffs.

It needs to be said at this point that personal temperament plays highly here. Apparently you can’t just go around sniffing anyone who comes into your olfactory range. Aside from some embarrassed Mommy looks (the slightly raised eyebrow and giggle are a dead giveaway) there are some Alpha’s who object strongly, and occasionally violently, to this type of behavior.

Successful meetings of this nature depend greatly on the personalities involved. For example, Alphas and Betas get along well together once the canine hierarchy is settled and when (2) Betas meet & greet each other it gives one Beta the opportunity to seize the day and step up onto the leader’s platform of seniority. This builds morale and canine self-confidence. These meetings are mutually beneficial to all involved.

On the downside though, Alpha pairings are not so easy.

I myself am Alpha dog………..in so much as I can be weighing only 17 pounds and being the size of a cat. Ok, a large housecat but a kitty none-the-less.

I am extremely Alpha when it comes to roasted chicken. I don’t suppose that helps me when it comes to determining my hierarchy in the presence of a Rottweiler but it can’t hurt to be well fed and a tiny bit spoiled, right?

In the interest of full disclosure I do need to mention that I suffer from a debilitating disability known as short-dog syndrome.

In another life I am sure I was a wolf. A wild beast with unlimited power. Native creatures probably feared me and avoided my wrath at all costs.

Not so much in this life though…………….

The next-door neighbor’s new Chihuahua who is about ¼ my size clearly doesn’t understand that I am boss of him. I have no idea how to go about stressing this fact either when he won’t stop barking and growling and trying to nip me through the fence long enough for me to relay this information.

I have to admit though that I do taunt him to some degree. You would be surprised at how easily a wagging tail and a few gruffy barks can spin that high strung bundle of nerves over the edge into abandoned fury.

I think its good for him. It wears him out and while he slumbers in his deflated-rage coma I can strut around my back yard in welcomed silence, free to reign supreme……………until he wakes back up and yells at me some more.

Grrrrrrrrr
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(_o_)
oo--oo

Joe-Boxers

Here’s the thing…………I went to my groomer’s and had a routine spaw day.

Spaw days generally consist of baths and trims and clippings and doing my nails along with misc. other actions all in a not-so-needed, not so much anyway, effort to make me cuter than I normally am.

My recent trip there caused some damage though.

It appears that my groomer got wayyyyyyyyyyy to into her job and shaved/clipped me wayyyyyyyyyyyy too close in my South Pole region.

Everything was chaffed and red and one very sensitive spot was actually cut. Ouchies!

Since it is in a place that I can easily reach, I tried to self-medicate and take care of it on my own with excessive and frequent personal grooming but all I succeeded in doing was aggravating the situation.

It then became clear to me that Mommy wasn’t going to ignore this no matter how hard I tried to hide it and she insisted that we go see my doctor.

So off we went……………………when the exam was all said and done, my official prescription turned out to be some ointment and a pair of Joe-Boxers.
The underwear made it impossible for me to continue to try and self-sooth which is obviously what made it much worse than it would have been.

Odd prescription, but effective. My new Spiderman Joe-Boxers were put on me upside down so my tail fit through the hole part and the excess material was bunched up with one of mommy’s hair scrunchi’s and then I healed in one day.

I do just have to say that I kept to myself mostly that day and luckily no one outside saw me in my underwear. I don’t even think Mommy got a picture of it but I might be convinced now to pose for one or two if she lets me be an official Spiderman for Howl-a-ween!!!!

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......l /)"(| /
Joey(_o_) Pawz
.......................

Sometimes Mommy puts stuff in here that I don't always agree- with..........

The following is from an email one of her friends sent to her. We don't know where it came from originally (or who wrote it) and it has been slightly modified to apply to me......................................................

Dear Joey,

The dishes with the paw prints are yours and contain
your food. The other dishes are mine and contain my
food. Please note, placing your paw in the middle
of my plate and food does not stake a claim for it
becoming your food and dish, nor do I find that
aesthetically pleasing in the slightest.

The hallway was not designed by NASCAR and is not a
racetrack. Beating me to the end is not the object.
Tripping me doesn't help because I fall faster than you can run.

I cannot buy anything bigger than a king sized bed.
I am very sorry about this. Do not think I will
continue sleeping on the couch to ensure your
comfort. Dogs can actually curl up in a
ball when they sleep. It is not necessary to sleep
perpendicular to me stretched out to the
fullest extent possible. I also know that sticking your
tail straight out and having your tongue hanging out
the other end to maximize space is nothing but
sarcasm.

For the last time, there is not a secret exit from
the bathroom. If by some miracle I beat you there
and manage to get the door shut, it is not necessary
to scratch, bark, try to turn the knob or get your
paw under the edge and try to pull the door open. I
must exit through the same door I entered. Also, I
have been using the bathroom for years...........canine
attendance is not mandatory.

The proper order is kiss me, then go smell that dog's bottom.
I cannot stress this enough!


Signed: Your Mommy

J-Dawg

My photo was selected to be one of the 200 Dogster dog’s pictures to be shown during the end credits of Fox’s 2007 Firehouse Dog movie!

Yay, me!!

This new development has made me wonder if I should put together a resume though………….


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......l /)"(| /
Joey(_o_) Pawz
.......................

Name: Joey Pawz
Stage Name: J-Dawg
Age: 2.3 Years
DOB: 05/15/04 (Taurus)
Gender: M
PawMail: www.dogster.com
ID: 90771

Objective: To Obtain Chicken and Prime Rib……….willing to negotiate

Characteristics:
Strong protective sense of duty
Ability to rise above and overcome Short-Dog Syndrome
Willingness to explore new areas of recreation
Eager recruit of new chasing buddies
Camera Friendly – Cute in Holiday Gear

Skills:
Master of the Shoe Game
Advanced Duck Playing Experience
High C.A.T. Scores (Chase. Aggravate. Taunt.)
Proven aptitude with repetitive tasks.
Efficient at switching and re-focusing attention span at a moment’s notice.
Really really really good at chasing stuff


Experience: 2004- Present
Vet visits and surviving the various indignities forced upon me there
Active Duty Back Yard Patrol
Mommy Protector
Sofa sectional, bed and cushion Tester
Food Inspector
Sanitation Supervisor
Boss of the Cats
Boss of the Ducks
Boss of the Birds
Block Boss
Toy Tester
Car Companion and Trip Navigator
Exemplary Camper
Outdoorsy and Entertaining


References available upon request

Poorly Placed Garden Gnomes

Joey, mini-guard-dawg extraordinaire, newly assigned protector of garden infiltrators, to the rescue!

I have taken it upon myself to form a local chapter of the Poorly Placed Garden Gnome Liberation Front. I am uniting all backyard activists and amplifying the call for action against garden gnomes that are positioned in places where my hind leg can’t reach.

Ok, it has come to light lately that Garden Gnomes are not proper playthings. Just one more thing to add to the list, I know, but there it is.......... so, even though they are Joey-sized and they kind of look like they actually enjoy going for splash-down dips in the pond and being dragged, nipped and grrrrrrrrrr’d at, Mommy doesn’t support these activities and she has been constantly re-positioning them lately. I fear some have even vanished altogether in the mass confusion that these moves have caused.

Now, in an effort to minimize gnome crime and vanquish altogether unauthorized gnome disappearances, it has become necessary for me to monitor their daily activities. To do this, I must be allowed to tag them and since I don’t have a label-making machine or a Sharpie I have to rely instead on what Mother Nature gave me.

This procedure becomes impossible to implement when gnomes are embedded behind decorative fences, hidden near solar-powered resin mushroom caps, stashed by the evil bottom-less pond or squirreled away by marble fountains.

Whether by accidental design or purposeful craft, Mommy has placed these 10-inch decorations out of my reach.

It just needs to be emphasized at this point, as my manifesto states quite clearly, that it is in my best interest that she not do this anymore.

Garden Gnomes are considered to be special symbols of hope, luck, and good karma. If I can’t properly tag and monitor them, for their own good and protection, of course, how am I suppose to reap the rewards of the benefits they offer?

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./)"(/
(_o_)
oo--oo

Scavenger Hunt

I seem to have a bit of an addictive personality. I have suspected this all along but didn't know for sure until Dogster posted this Scavenger Hunt game.

That first day I sniffed around and around and couldn't stop until I found all but 2 of the answers. With a little help from a friend (thanks again!!!) I was able to complete the task and rest my weary paws but up until I posted my answers I was in a state of frenzied excitement.

Now, I don't know what other sufferer's do when they complete a task and are left basking in the warm fuzzy rush of endorphins that ensue but I used the energy from it to play my own home game of Scavenger Hunt with Mommy.

Mommy didn't even realize we were playing it until I brought her a key item in the game.

She actually tried to re-hide the bent, half chewed, pheasant feather that I laid on her lap.

Go figure.

I retrieved it from its new garbage bin hiding place and I put it in my basket of toys along with the other items on my game list:

Mud-covered little blue metal hot wheels car, sans the hood which I ate last year. Don't ever try that by the way. It doesn't taste like chicken.

The properly gnawed-on heel of a strappy red shoe that didn't survive the Shoe Game. I got a time out for this one but it was worth it in the long run.

3 paper towels that the cat helped me aquire. Thanks, Furball.

1 magazine cover section showing someone's famous baby's leg. The rest of the cover didn't handle my stress-test chew-a-thon and was promptly vaccum'd up by my distracted Mommy.

1 rolled up set of Daddy's socks. Well, it looks like a toy. They should really be thankful that I have settled for this one pair and not commandeered the whole drawer full. I mean come on, everyone knows that ALL toys and toy-like things in my house belong to me.

1 drinking straw that tastes like a cherry slurpee. Yummy!

Eventually I will get Mommy more involved with this game. She needs a refresher course anyway on the rules. She seems to think that she can re-hide all of my important stuff in the garbage can and that's not how the game is played at all.

Bag Tag

Lots of kudos to Dogster for the cute new freebie Bag Tag.

Everyone, especially at my groomer’s, noticed my shiny new Dogster sticker that Mommy sent away for and put on my bag……

I even think it may have helped me get my unofficial, self-awarded, most pawpular St. Pawdy’s Day Spaw Day Shamrock Bandana Award.

See, I went to my groomer’s on Friday because, let’s face it, my fur was a little outta control. Mommy said I was starting to resemble Chewbacca and she wanted more of an eWok look for me, so under the clippers I cautiously went.

It all turned out for the best. I pranced and preened myself silly and earned major cutie points, plus the bandana, which I wore proudly for the rest of the day, even after it slipped and turned itself into a bib (which they always do on their own, no tugging help from me, I swear)

So back to the kudos.

Thank you, Dogster, for my new Bag Tag. You have my permission to use a likeness of me on the next series of stickers you give away if you want to.

I will even pose for photos for them if you prefer (small appearance fee may apply, see Mommy for details)

I would also require reimbursement for my travel costs, meals, not to mention a generous paw-diem and permission to bring Mommy with me, of course.

I think it bears mentioning that I look cute in holiday gear so if you wanted to plan it accordingly, please feel free.

Thank you for your consideration.

.......-.__.-.
......l /)"(| /
Joey(_o_) Pawz
.......................

Meanie Greenies?

Yikes............Mommy saw the following news story on cnn.com:

http://www.cnn.com/2006/US/02/14/dangerous.dogtr eat/index.html

which in part states the following:

..........................at least 13 dogs have died after being fed the top-selling pet treat in the country, owners and veterinarians have told CNN.

The problem comes because the treats, called Greenies, become lodged in a dog's esophagus or intestine and then some veterinarians say they don't break down.

Greenies recommends owners check that the treats are chewed and Joe Roetheli - who launched the brand as a treat that can freshen a dog's breath and clean its teeth - said it was important to pick the correct chew for a particular dog. There are 7 different sizes to choose from depending on the size of the dog.

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(_o_)
oo--oo Say it isn't sooooooooooooo