Today's lesson


Not toy.



Be careful what you wish for


I remember that magical stuff. So far we've had rain that's trying really hard to be snow, but only a few real flakes. And those flakes pretty much melted before they hit the ground. "No accumulation." Snow is fun to jump around in and to eat. When I get out there in the snow I run around trying to gobble it up like a dog who hasn't been fed in days. Why do I eat snow? And why do I like to brave the cold weather to prance around in it? I guess I'm a real trooper who likes to act tough.

For now, I'm satisfied with building snow forts out of blankets. Luckily the humans own a lot of blankets that are pretty damn fluffy. My human goddess (sometimes referred to as Mom) says I am building a nest or even a cocoon. She calls me a nesting doll.



There I was

...sleeping on a fluffy nest of blankets, when someone came in with a camera. And a flash. The proverbial rude awakening.



Yesterday I said "Arf."

I needed to go outside. The usual growl-bark-whine combination was getting me nowhere. The humans were ignoring me. After repeating the growl-bark-whine several times, I began to feel a creeping sense of frustration as well as an ever-increasing urgency to pee.

Then I said it. "Arf." It sounded just like you spell it. "Arf." It was a total cliché. Conversation stopped for a second. Then, "Did he say Arf?" "Next thing you know, he'll be saying Bow Wow."

Very funny.

I'm a dog. Sometimes dogs say Arf.

My specialty is the early morning high-pitched whine. But I can say arugula. I can say "Humboldt, a robber." And one time I said "road map of England."

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We ordered sweaters. I love online shopping because it keeps the humans home.

Mom found the tape measure so she could see what size we should get. Sister thought we were going to take a walk. A tape measure doesn't really look like a leash, does it?

Mom said something about a faux fur cheetah print jacket, but I think she was just joking. It doesn't really matter what kind of sweater I get as long as it's cozy. Sweaters are like a blanket you wear. Heat is always good. They talk about global warming like it's a bad thing.

Once I had a red sweater. It got wet somehow and Mom put it out in the yard to dry. A hawk swooped down and looked at it for a minute. A red sweater doesn't really look like a bloody fresh carcass, does it?

But anyway. New sweaters will be here soon. Pictures will be taken.



Designer dogs

We watch dog shows sometimes. There is way too much cooing over the French Bulldogs. I wonder when Puggles (that hybrid of Pug and Beagle) will show up in the competitions.

My papers say I'm a Dachshund-Terrier mix, but according to my humans, that's not accurate. In reality, I'm a Dachshund-Terror, sometimes even a Dachshund-Derriere.

My sister is an exotic blend too, but she's also a Privacy Hound, so I won't divulge the details of her lineage.

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My sister is afraid of the vacuum

Not in the metaphysical sense, but in the electrical appliance sense. I think it's the noise and the threatening attack-and-retreat motion. I used to be a little afraid of the vacuum until we got my sister. Now I sit there nonchalantly and let her take care of it. I hate to admit it, but it makes me feel superior.

Right now my sister is very cute. She is curled up on the human's big bed. She looks small, even though she is bigger than me. She is sleeping in the pane of warm sunlight from the window, only waking up to change position when the sun moves across the sky. Her tail end is hanging off the side of the bed, but she keeps her balance.



Repeat after me


Not toy.



Spring forward, fall back, starve

It's that time of year again, when we dogs need to readjust our inner clocks. We know it's time for dinner, but the humans make us wait. Why are we whining and barking? Well, only one of us is whining and barking but I make enough noise for two. Sister just jumps around like a circus pony. We look at the humans expectantly. Are they ignoring us? Have they forgotten about dinner?

We are expected to understand Daylight Savings Time. They laugh and say they didn't hear any complaints six months ago when we set the clocks ahead and dinner was early.

Grr. It's hard to wait. Dogs are all about instant gratification. We are creatures of habit, but you can keep those analog and digital clocks. We're more the sundial type.



A simple pleasure

When the kitchen door is open and the timing is right, the sun makes a parallelogram of light and warmth on the floor. I align myself within this quadrilateral of bliss, and take a nap. I am dog. I am Zen.



About that bat costume...

Mom brought it out the other day. At first I didn't recognize it but then I realized it smelled familiar. It was one of my sweaters! I love sweaters. They're warm and cozy. ...Huh? This isn't a sweater, is it? What is this cape-looking thing of purple and black? Yes, purple and black. You question my rods and cones? You think dogs see only in black and white?

The cape looked pretty normal. The matching hat was something else. It had a little big-eyed bat perched on top, and fake ears. I would rather wear a sweater, or sleep on the couch with my face tucked into a folded blanket and get called a "jelly roll." Yes, there's enough air in there, really.