On Notice!

The thumb-havers are rather fond of The Colbert Report, so when we saw we had the power to create our own On Notice boards, we couldn't resist. Here's The Typist's:
















And here's mine:















And, here's The Boy's:







(We expect to receive The Alpha's board tomorrow.)

Wet and cool

I kept hearing about Wet and Cool from the thumb-havers after they got back from the whole not-being-here thing (Alaska, they call it). Well, yesterday we finally got some Wet, and compared with what the temperature has been like lately, we also got Cool, too!

It was so refreshingly Cool, we finally got to go on a w-a-l-k (I'm six, I can spell...). Funny thing, though -- even though it was Cool and the rain wasn't falling from the sky anymore, we wound up feeling kinda wet anyway. Humidity, they call it.

But, I didn't let the rain go and drizzle on my muzzle. (Thanks for the advice, Trout Fishing in America).

Ah, visitors!

Friday afternoon the bandannas came out of the drawer and were slipped over our heads, so The Boy and I knew some coming over would be happening. And we were right!

First, two folks who may consider us their granddogs (although Grandaddy might not admit it). They sat around in the living room for a while, then they both went somewhere with The Typist and when they came back, it was just The Typist and Grandaddy. Not sure where the other one went. Something about a conference, whatever that is. I bet there are no dogs there.

Then, lots more in the evening! Miss Martha, and Miss Julie, Mid-Life Rookie and her man, and Mr. Steve and Miss Lynn, who I looooove. (I miss their pool, too; Emmitt and The Boy don't get along well at all, so I don't get to go over there much anymore.) The Alpha and Grandaddy went out for a while, but they came back and had dessert with the rest of the thumb-havers. The Boy and I snagged some dessert crumbs from the kitchen floor, but then The Boy threw up on the dining room carpet, so I think next time they will keep a closer eye out for falling pie.

Grandaddy stayed until this morning. He even let me lick him some. (He probably would've let me lick him more when nobody was looking, but The Typist kept telling me to stop, as she did when I tried licking all the other guests Friday night, too. Guests are yummy.) He also played ball with The Boy, which was fun except when I got jealous and tried to steal the ball.

If he saw our doggy-fur tumbleweeds rolling around, he didn't say anything about them. Whew!

They came back!

Yeah, yesterday the front door opened, and it was The Alpha and The Typist! We could hardly believe what we were seeing through the patio windows. The Boy even stood on the windowsill to get a better look. But seeing them before getting to come in and smell them helped us stay a little calmer, I think. I mean, what if it had been the whole garage door thing? We might've just thought it was Aunt KitCat again. (Not that seeing her every day wasn't great, because it was!)

They had lots of interesting smells when they got back. Places I've never smelled before. Also some outdoorsy-type smells. I think I caught one hint of wet dog, but then they did laundry, so I didn't get to investigate further.

I have no idea...

...where The Alpha and The Typist are, but I don't really so much care! The Boy and I are being spoiled rotten by Aunt KitCat. (As if we weren't rotten enough already.)

Wheee!

Hrrmph.

Remember that Best Day Ever report? Well, the thumb-havers decided to rain on our little doggy parade: showers for both of us before bed. I should've guessed, what with all the brushing (The Alpha harvested another pomeranian from my undercoat). And this morning, that squirty stuff between our shoulder blades where we can't lick it off. I'm not too fond of routine maintenance, but I gather that it does serve some sort of legitimate purpose. Still, it's always a challenge to get my proper scent back.

The Best Day Ever!

Or in a while, at least.

After supper tonight, we got to go for a RIDE!!!!

And it was to a place where we usually just walk -- down to the window at the pharmacy. (I guess that's why they call it a drive-up window...maybe we're the only ones who ever walk there.) The Alpha said something like, "Pickup for Cub the K-9," and then there was a bunch of back-and-forth paper passing, and a little paper sack that I'm pretty sure contained those things they wrap in peanut butter and give to me before breakfast. But then it was time for the fun part.

The guy in the window brought out two huge Milk Bones -- way bigger than we ever get at home -- and handed one to me through my window, and another one to the thumb-havers to pass to The Boy on his side of the car. We crunched and crunched and they got all over the back seat and the floor, and we licked it all up. The car started moving again, but because of all the crunching, we didn't really notice except for the rocking around a little (we were buckled into our harnesses, so nobody fell down).

But then before we knew it, we were turning in somewhere else and going up to another window! This time it was pretty clear that whatever the thumb-havers were getting would be just for them. That is, until the guy at the window said, "And would you like a Puppy Cup?"

Puppy Cup? That sounded good. The thumb-havers agreed, but only if they could have two. "Oh, I didn't see the other one back there -- hi!" said Window Guy to The Boy. And in a minute he came back with big cups of creamy treats for the thumb-havers, and Puppy Cups for us! They were kinda like Frosty Paws, only not as much like frozen gravy. Also, they were not as full. There was just enough to lick all around the inside. Which was nice, and not too messy to be had in the car.

So, two windows, two snacks for two dogs. Yes, this is the Best Day Ever. And nothing will spoil that!

Snack captured, confiscated

This afternoon in the backyard, The Boy made a great catch. No, it wasn't a Frisbee(tm). Or a ball. It was a bird!

The Alpha spotted what was going on, but it was too late. He hollered and hollered, but The Boy messed with the bird until it stopped moving. The Boy did not get to keep the snack he caught. I think The Alpha buried it in the side yard. I can't be sure, but I think I heard "Taps" playing softly in the distance.

I wonder why that silly bird didn't remember it could fly.

Indignities

Last night was a night of awkward inconvenience for dogs.

First, while we were out going pee, The Boy started limping, and when the thumb-havers managed to get a look at his right front paw, they sprung into action. Seems he'd managed to leave some of the skin dangling. The Typist went on a ride (without us) and came back with stuff to wrap around his paw. The whole time she was gone, The Alpha insisted that The Boy stay right in the spot where he'd put him down from bringing him inside. And, of course, being low in the pack order, The Boy stayed in a quite submissive pose, showing us all his belly. The good part there was that The Alpha could keep an eye on the offending paw, which, oddly enough, wasn't bleeding.

So they put goo and gauze and a bandage on his paw, but the real indignity came when they decided they didn't want him picking at it all night... and made him wear one of The Typist's socks:

The good news is, he can walk on it quite well. I'd be a limping wreck if they did that to me.

To add insult to injury (literally), a comment soon came from The Alpha: "With that sock on his arm, he looks kinda like Britney Spears."

Anyway, this morning's bandage change revealed that there had been some bleeding during the night, so he's still Socky M'Goose today.

As for me, well, when they got The Boy all wrapped up, they decided it wasn't fair to torture him all alone. I knew something was up, but I'm such a good girl that I couldn't run off and hide or anything. Turns out they bought a new instrument of torture for me -- one of those sticks they call a "toothbrush." This one had three brush heads and is supposed to get all sides of my molars at once. Doesn't work too well when I chomp down on it, though. Yet, The Alpha persisted, and I think my breath probably smells better.

Behind the Camera

I know I've already told you we had a week of Dogs On the People Bed recently, but here's the proof. Yeah, it pretty much looks like the last time.

The difference is that this time, while taking the picture, The Typist was sort of hopping up and down on one foot, so as not to bleed on the carpet with the other foot. She insisted on getting the shot of us before she got a Band-Aid.

You see, somebody left a bone in the major thoroughfare of the living room, which The Typist chose to enter in the dark, barefooted. And the bone in question had been nicely sharpened by hours of concentrated gnawing.

I don't really "get" irony, but according to her, the irony of it is that her reason for going into the dark room to grab the camera off the end table was to take a picture of her cute, cute poppies.

Who, while staying on the bed, managed to indirectly cut up The Typist's toe.

I hear that little thumb-havers sometimes do the same thing with Legos.

Oh, her toe is okay now. But she's been much more careful in the dark lately.