Bath? No bath.

But The Boy certainly got a shampoo and rinse today, even though I didn't. I kept expecting to have to take my turn, but I didn't have to. I guess my nose really does know -- I always thought he got stinkier quicker than me. I'm not sure if it's because of his breed or because he's a boy, though. Boys of any species seem to get stinky quick.

Anyway, he's cleaner and softer now (but his coat is still not as soft as mine). And he smells all clean (which I'm sure won't last if we spend any time in the backyard this evening).

And I think maybe it's time to chase him around the room again (The Typist says there's a country song about that, but I have no idea what she's talking about).

Shockingly normal.

Life has been ever-so-typical this week. That's why I have nothing to blog about lately. It did rain a bit the other day and we had to stay inside while the thumb-havers were at work, but that just meant a nice cushy couch for napping, and that The Alpha came home at lunch to give us an outside break.

Oh, yesterday The Boy got in trouble for chewing a branch off a shrubbery that The Alpha planted. I guess, technically, we both got in trouble -- the chewed-off branch was shaken in both our directions, with "no" happening behind it -- but I know who actually did it.

I'm an enigma... what's an enigma?

Yeah, so The Alpha did some mmm-hmm-ing into the telephone after it rang this morning, then he left and came back with... more prescriptions for me! I'm one pill-popping poppy. Or one druggy doggy. Or a prodigiously prescribed pooch. It's a good thing I don't mind when a finger full of peanut butter has something hidden in it.

Rumor has it I may even start eating prescription chow. My liver's giving them fits. They are mystified because I act fine, yet they don't like what the vet says after I get needles stuck in me. They've also mentioned it'd be great if I'd get a job so I could pull a little more of my own weight around here. (I'm thinking maybe a Cafe Press product line?)

Okay, off to chase The Boy some more. It's a lovely day, but even sunbeams can grow tiresome after a few hours.

Trapped at the vet...

Okay, I'm home now. But this morning I wasn't. I had to go get more needles stuck in me. At least they fed me between stickings, because I wasn't allowed to have breakfast when The Boy was. Instead, The Alpha got me all excited by telling me I was gonna get to go for a RIDE, then he didn't take me when he left. After what seemed like forever, The Typist put The Boy outside all alone (poor The Boy -- but he did get an extra-big treat for his trouble), and we girls went out to the car. For a ride with needles at the other end. Oh, well, I like rides anyway, and I got one after the needles, too, which is how I'm back home!

Upon my return, The Boy sniffed me carefully. All over. Several times. He knows what the vet smells like.

He was right!

The Boy was totally right about getting left! We never even saw the suitcase... I think The Typist snuck it out to the car while The Alpha took me and The Boy for a w-a-l-k. Because today when they came back, they rolled it on in from the garage like nothing unusual had happened.

We did enjoy the company of Aunt Jessica and Winston, which meant not just two, but three dogs with Aunt Jess on the people bed! (Even if Winston is a little tiny thing, he still counts. Especially because even at one-quarter The Boy's size, he can freak out said Boy quite a bit.)

He knows.

The Boy (new file photo at right) is suspicious.

When The Alpha left after supper, The Boy tried to go with him. Snaked past him out the back door and into the garage. It was only after a few seconds with the door shut on him in the darkness that he would come back in, away from the car.

"Aw, you know there's a trip coming, don't you?"

Why yes, he does.

Odd. We haven't seen a suitcase, or any Getting Ready of Things, but there's been talk. Not that he can understand fully, by any means, but The Boy knows.

I know that if we get left, it'll be with somebody nifty like Aunt Jessica or Aunt KitCat, so I'm not too concerned. The Boy, however, still has Issues. Poor The Boy.

I thought that was what they wanted.

Darned if you do, darned if you don't, I say.

A couple of days ago, The Alpha was out in the back yard washing something other than me, and he left the bottle of soap outside. Naturally, The Boy decided to play with it. I noticed it smelled pretty interesting, kinda like how we smell after they make us take baths. So, I decided to lie down in the goo that came out of it, just to make them happy.

Well, it didn't make them happy. In fact, it confused them, and The Typist spent a lot of time brushing the spots on my shoulders that were sticky from the good-smelling goo. Also, it took them a while to figure out what the goo was -- but tonight The Alpha found the bottle in the yard and solved the mystery.

So, they want me to smell good... but only if I agree to go about it their way. I say we have a new mystery there.

A creek!

So we went for a RIDE just now (two rides, actually -- one there, and one back), and at the other end there were all these cool woodsy trails and a creek! The Boy and I waded in the creek while the thumb-havers tried not to get too wet themselves. (And they're still forgetting to bring the camera to capture our antics. Silly thumb-havers.)

The Boy seemed to like the water much better when he could go in on his own terms. Not like at the city pool. He even took a drink or two.

We got nice and dusty/filthy after we got out of the water. Fun!

Mmmm, denim!

Jefferson, who lived with us when I was a puppy, came over this evening. It had been quite a while since we'd seen him, so I was very excited. I squeaked and fell down on his feet. A couple of times.

His blue jeans are really yummy to lick. I don't know why. He doesn't have any animals living with him or anything that would make his denim especially lickable. They're just that special, I suppose.

The toys are back in town!

Okay, well, back in my realm, otherwise known as the floor. They'd been confiscated when I came home all groggy a while back. But we had another (another!) trip to the vet this afternoon, and when I came home we got our toys back! I'm having fun keeping them away from The Boy already.

I heard something else about "two weeks," and judging from the warning I got from the heeler in Houston last time, I'm pretty much Eee Ex Pee Eee See Tee-ing to have to go back. (Yes, more spelling. They still don't know that I know, but I know! I do.)

St. Francis had a day

Yesterday was the Feast Day of St. Francis. He's my special unseen buddy who loves animals.

When I was a tiny puppy, Aunt Lidna gave me a medal with his picture on it to wear with my other tags. I wore out the hole where it fit on my collar, so the thumb-havers had to glue it to the back of another tag to keep it on me! This morning The Typist made me sit so she could look at it, and it's gone. It must've fallen off in the yard somewhere. That's okay, though. St. Francis and I are tight, so it doesn't matter where the medal is.

The Typist sometimes mentions getting me and The Boy blessed, but when we go to church we mainly just get petted. That's okay, too. The Typist says we're pretty well blessed all the time, anyway.