I'm being watched.

It's been a while since I got the hole where my toof used to be, but for some reason I'm still not allowed to go outside alone. The Typist is actually sitting out here in a lawn chair typing, and any time I try to pick up a stick, I get told no and drop it. I feel fine, really. I have no idea what they're so uptight about. That silly vet told them to boss me around like this.

Oh, hey, nobody's said anything about my seal! Why hasn't anyone admired my official seal? It's pretty nifty, if I do say so myself.

My official seal

As we all know how true it is, we thought we'd make it look more official.

Notice my Latin motto.
The Typist says it means, "The wolf in the story."
I'm so a wolf, and this blog is all a story about me, so that's perfect!

Adjusting

Well, I mostly feel better now, but I still have something weird going on in my mouth. The hole is pretty much closed up, but there's a blank spot where one of my toofs used to be. The Boy comes over and sniffs my lips from time to time. He knows it's different, but I think he will eventually lose interest.

Oh, and neither of us is allowed to chew on anything. The thumb-havers took away all our indoor toys. The Boy is allowed to play fetch outside, and I'm allowed to chase him, but the minute I try to pick up a stick or grab the Ropey Kong he's fetching, I get the old holler-off. The Alpha said something about 10 more days of that.

They're still soaking my food to make it all mushy, too, but I actually like that pretty well. And I'm taking extra pills, which means extra peanut butter! I like that!

uhh...

The commenters on the last post know what they're talking about Amie the Cattle Dog was right. Mid-life Rookie was right. I'm a groggy doggy today.

Mmmph. My mouth feels funny. There's a hole in there.

They made my food all mushy.

I'm walking realllly slow.

whoo... feel all floaty... why's The Boy moving so fast?... think I'm gonna go lie down again.

One of THOSE rides...

I should've guessed it when I got to go for a ride and The Boy didn't. He was whining at the back window as The Alpha and I left, thinking he was really missing out.

But he wasn't missing out on much. We arrived at the vet's compound, and I surmised it would be only moments until I had to defend The Alpha from those other thumb-havers who like messing with me. When it was time for that, though, The Alpha somehow talked his way out of going into the tiny room with me, and I was led to the back, alone. Without the weight of defense responsibilities, I more easily relinquished myself to the prodding and lifting up and holding down and looking. They spent extra time looking in my mouth, which they never even dream of doing when I'm using it to defend The Alpha. Good thing I'd left him behind for his own safety, or they would've really seen me in action. I'm not sure how they're planning to get to The Alpha by looking in my mouth, but they are nefarious, so I assume they are biding their time.

Before long, my captors led me back out to the Alpha, and we were joyfully reunited. The Alpha and the other thumb-havers said a bunch of words like cracked molar, calcified plaque, extraction, credit card, Friday morning drop-off, antibiotics, and other things they seemed to think were really important. I escaped unscathed, though, so I'm not really concerned.

Six Weird Things About Me

Found this little meme over at Rebel Without a Pew and thought I'd play with it.

Weird Thing #1: I was born with extra toenails. Yep, in the rear dewclaw area, I had two sticking out of each foot instead of just one. The thumb-havers made them disappear once while I was taking a nap at the vet. They didn't want me getting them caught on anything and getting hurt. (Over the weekend, I'll see if I can get The Typist to scan the picture they took before removal.)

Weird Thing #2: I'm missing a hip joint. Trust me, that's a good thing. Life is much better without it. So I walk with a wiggle -- my midsection does kinda go wub-wub-wub from side to side. I think that's why they sometimes call me Cubbins-Wubbins.

Weird Thing #3: Most dogs don't blog, do they?

Weird Thing #4: Even though I'm a girl, I mark things on walks. The Boy doesn't mark; he's afraid to ever since he got scolded for pooping out of turn, on an unfamiliar yard. The thumb-havers often have to remind me that I'm on a walk, not a stop-n-pee.

Weird Thing #5: If you let me, I'll sit and lick you. And lick you and lick you and lick and lick and lick you. And lick you some more.

Weird Thing #6: Okay, this isn't weird from my perspective, just from the thumb-havers'. I splash everywhere when I drink. Except for when I get to drink a wee bit of milk instead of water -- a rare treat. With milk, I never spill a drop. Why would I? How is that weird? Water's just so run-of-the-mill; now milk... milk is special!

Pool Poppies!

First off, the thumb-havers should've remembered their camera. They didn't, so you don't get to see for yourself.

This afternoon, The City gave The Boy a complex -- the municipal swimming complex, that is. It was the Pooch Pool Party! There were all kinds of dogs there!

I've been to Mr. Steve and Ms. Lynn's pool lots of times, so I know what to do. And I know what I like. The Boy has not been to any pools before, so he did not know what to do. But I think he knew he didn't like it.

The first pool we went to didn't have very good steps. I don't just haul off and jump in; I like a pool with steps. So, after The Alpha forced us both over the pool's edge a couple of times (The Boy wasn't sure about that at all), we saw that the next pool over had steps and I could go in at my own speed that way. So, I grabbed a tennis ball and swam some laps all around that pool. At one point it was kind of like a walk, when The Alpha had my leash and followed me around pool-side. Except I was swimming instead of walking. Which was pretty neat. The Boy and The Typist were following too, and The Boy seemed really concerned about me being in the water. At first he wouldn't come join me, and when he did, he didn't stay long.

So, The Alpha took us over to the kiddie pool, even though it was only supposed to be for little not-dogs and mops and stuff. That's where The Alpha and The Boy and I could go wading together (thumb-havers were not allowed in the bigger pools). On the way over there, The Boy had some nervous poop in the flower bed (which had to be Cleaned Up by the thumb-havers right then). Clearly, he wasn't very into this whole adventure. But in the kiddie pool he seemed to get more comfortable with the whole idea of water, because he could keep his feet touching bottom. That didn't stop him from trying to eat the water. Or maybe just bite it. I'm not sure which.

Back in the bigger pool again, I went diving for a Frisbee(tm). I really didn't mean to be sticking my whole head under water, but the thing kept getting away!

I think The Boy might like swimming if he got another chance, some place where The Alpha could go in with him. I didn't like swimming when I first tried it, but now it's pretty neat. I especially like all the shaking off when I get out!

Guest post

He's been wondering what the deal is with this blogging thing, so I decided I'd let The Boy give it a try. Here he goes:

Um, hey! Hey, yeah, hey! I'm Angus. Or 'Guus. Or Goosey Boy, or Anus (they really think that one's funny and I'm not sure why), or Shebangus. Cub's loyal readers know me as The Boy. Which I am. I'm a The Boy.

Today I've had fun. Let's see, what all did I do... I peed, ate, rolled on the carpet, poo-ooped, ran, barked, dug, napped, crawled underbed, went for a walk -- whaaaaaaaaah, I love walks!!! That's the noise I make when I figure out we're going on a walk -- whaaaaaaaaah!!! Oh, and then I did some of that stuff again. Like pee and eat and run and bark and stuff. And guess what -- guess what? You know what? Tomorrow I get to have fun again! Whaaaaaaah!!! Thanks, Cub, for letting me guest blog!

You're welcome, The Boy. (A valiant first effort for a two-year-old, I suppose...ACDs can be a little ADD, or so I've heard. He certainly fits the bill.)

We're off to hang out with the thumb-havers for the rest of the evening. So, we'll catch you later.

Back-yard Hunting

The Boy (file photo at right) started off the morning with an adventure and a mystery.

First thing in the morning, while it's still dark, is pee time. Sometimes we both go out, and sometimes I hang inside with The Typist. Today I hung back. Sometimes the light in the backyard comes on, sometimes it doesn't. Today it didn't.

Not usually, though, does a squeaky noise come from the backyard when there are no squeaky toys in the backyard. Today, it did.

The Boy was called inside, and came in looking a little guilty. The Alpha was informed as he stepped from the shower. Dressed and armed with a flashlight, he took to the backyard. He came back and informed The Typist that he found downy fur, and a spot that looked like it had been burrowed into, but no blood and no bunny.

The Mystery is whether the bunnybunbun got away, or whether The Boy swallowed it whole. Either way, the thumb-havers hope it's feeling no pain now.

And The Boy, while he was doing a lot of lip-licking this morning, is certainly not talking.

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.

Friday Five: Hot Hot Hot!

The Typist and I have decided to play this RevGalBlogPals bit together. See my answers first, then hers:

1. What's the high temperature today where you are?
Cub: Uh, hot!
Typist: The forecast is for 97 degrees, cooler than some recent days and some expected next week.

2. Favorite way(s) to beat the heat.
C: Either sitting on the top step of Ms. Lynn and Mr. Steve's pool, soaking up to my shoulders (Wet Dog Alert!), or stretching out on the cool tile in the front hall. OR, Frosty Paws.
T: My more selfish, sinful, and costly ways include cranking up the A/C and camping out under a vent, opening up the side-by-side freezer and standing where the door would be when it's closed, and turning the car's A/C on full blast even though I know it sucks power away from my dutifully functioning four squirrels -- er, cylinders. Less selfish, sinful, and costly, but also less available: wading in a chilly creek and falling down accidentally on purpose.

3. "It's not the heat, it's the humidity." Evaluate this statement.
C: It's all of it.
T: I have to agree with the four-footed furry on this one.

4. Discuss one or more of the following: sauna, hot tub, sweat lodge, warm-stone massage.
C: I think those things fall under "Not for Poppies."
T: Sauna, no thank you. Hot tub, like 'em in the right weather (and this ain't it). Can't comment on the sweat lodge, but warm-stone massages are nice when they are a free upgrade from your regular massage.

5. Hottest you've ever been in your life
C: That time we were in the tiny room with zippers on the doors and windows, out by the lake and The Boy and I panted half the night and weren't allowed to go chase whatever was in the brush.
T: Ah, yes, the camping trip to Oklahoma. I think I'll agree with you there. (At least you didn't have you and The Boy panting directly ON you, like The Alpha and I did.)

Non-temperature related bonus: In your opinion... who's hot?
C: Rex and Tuxedo. But Tux was a little chunky the last time I saw him.
T: The Alpha, of course; also Nathan Fillion and I'm sure some assorted other musicians and movie stars I can't think of right now.