In the Crate

Chrusciki

2007-04-07T21:16:00.000-07:00

I am a chrusciki, just in time for Easter. All that's missing is the liberal dusting of powdered sugar. The human goddess says I am as fragrant as a Polish angel wing cookie. If you get really close, you'll notice the subtle top notes of rum and butter. That's amazing. How do I do it?

Dog days of winter

2007-01-23T17:50:00.000-08:00

Laziness is the rule rather than the exception, except when I go out and tear around in the snow like a mad dog.

You want poem parodies? You want articulate, insightful essays? You do? Show me how much you want one of those little treats from me. Go on. Beg.

Deus Sol Invictus

2006-12-25T08:47:00.000-08:00

...is the reason for the season.

Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa, and Blessed Whatever Else you celebrate this time of year.

Silent Night?

2006-12-23T18:38:00.000-08:00

Sometimes you have to stay one step ahead of the humans. Mom (otherwise known as the human goddess) brought out that dreaded (not to mention ridiculous) music again. Christmas Unleashed by the Jingle Dogs. Bark bark bark. Woof woof woof. Hoooowwwwl. Even a few meows thrown in to add insult to ear injury. "Waltz of the Snowflakes"? "The Nutcracker March"? "Ding Dong Merrily on High"?

Mom watched my sister and me expectantly. She wanted us to bark, I just knew it. Or maybe do that real cute quizzical head-cocking thing we do when we hear something weird.

We did something way cooler.

Nothing. No reaction. We unequivocally ignored the music. Ignored it? We didn't even hear it. We pretended we were sleeping.

Sometimes you have to ignore bad behavior in humans. Responding only encourages them.

im in ur doorway

2006-11-11T22:05:00.000-08:00

The softest blanket ever

2006-11-05T19:03:00.000-08:00

See the dilemma here? The patch of sunlight is moving gradually away, but this special place on the blanket is warm. Me, blankets, warmth... notice the recurring theme?

Beware

2006-10-01T19:03:00.000-07:00

Mom learned how to turn off the flash on the camera.

Service at 7

2006-08-06T08:00:00.000-07:00

We want to be fed early on Sunday mornings. Whining ensues. (Those humans are such babies.)

My sister is patriotic!

2006-07-02T19:01:00.000-07:00

It's almost July 4th. You know, "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands,
one Nation, under Dog..."

World dominion, one step at a time

2006-07-01T16:16:00.000-07:00

This chair suits me very well. My daddy thinks it's his chair. I let him use it for about an hour a day, early in the morning before I wake up. It's all part of my plan to take over all the cozy things in the house.

The Persistence of Me

2006-06-07T20:19:00.000-07:00

OK, I cooperated, a little.

The Persistence of Memory

2006-06-02T11:50:00.000-07:00

Or, The Persistence of Me. Remember the Hershey bar pillow? It's mine now. I knew they would give in and let me use it. I like to jump up on the bed and drape myself across the Hershey pillow just like the dogs in the picture are draped over tree branches. You know, like the melting clocks in the original Salvador Dali painting.

It's hard to take a picture of me stretched out lazily on the Hershey bar pillow because I snap to attention in the presence of a camera. Maybe someday I'll cooperate and strike the right pose.

Dog evolution

2006-05-28T20:53:00.000-07:00

The human goddess has a plastic bin that she keeps important papers in. The color is called "glacier" but it's really blue. Yesterday I walked over to the plastic bin and dug around in it, spilling some papers out onto the floor. I snooped around until I found a bright pink tablet of sticky-notes. I found the human goddess and stood in front of her with the bright pink sticky-notes in my mouth. The top page had these words on it: BRUSH THE DOGS. It was obviously a reminder for the male human. He's the one who has the privilege of brushing us. He got the brush from the closet and Sister and I went out in the yard with him. And we got brushed. I love getting brushed!

We're getting smarter all the time. We can't read yet, but we can feel the essence of the words.

It's only a matter of time before world dominion.

Be afraid.

Apologies to Richard Brautigan

2006-05-21T20:25:00.000-07:00

DECEMBER 30

At 1:03 in the morning a fart
smells like a marriage between
an avocado and a fish head.

I have to get out of bed
to write this down without
My glasses on.
.........................

My interpretation:

MAY 20

At 7:03 in the evening a Quorn nugget
smells like a marriage between
fried chicken and an egg roll.

I have to get off the bed
to zoom into the kitchen with
My begging face on.

WOOP

2006-05-18T10:27:00.000-07:00

My sister makes more noise when she's sleeping than when she's awake. I think she channels the souls of her ancestors. She's probably dreaming about being a wild dog in Australia. Last night she said WOOP. Repeatedly. WOOP. At twenty second intervals. WOOP. The humans thought the sound was coming from a freakish animal somewhere. They were right.

Mister Toast and Z

2006-05-06T16:31:00.000-07:00

Could I have some scrambled eggs with that?

Rabbit season

2006-04-26T19:00:00.000-07:00

My sister found something in the yard. It was moving around in the grass. She picked it up in her mouth and it started squeaking frantically! She thought it would be a good idea to bring this squeaking thing into the house.

Our humans said "No." Sister put the thing down and they made us go inside. We sat around looking guilty.

The humans decided the squeaky thing was a baby bunny. It had no fur and its ears were stuck down on its head. It was tiny and pathetic. They were afraid it would die out there in the yard, alone. They said my sister probably wanted to take care of it. I thought she wanted to eat it.

We coaxed the baby bunny into a safe place in the yard, right near one of the places where rabbits pop up out of the ground. Then we made the place even safer by putting a little fence around it. That fence is too small too stop dogs or anything from getting in. It must be a psychological barrier, but it works for me.

Later a normal-size rabbit was sitting inside the fence! And the next time we looked, there were even more baby bunnies wriggling around in the same place. Three or four of them. It was silly because the big rabbit looked like a stupid chicken hatching some eggs.

Apologies to William Carlos Williams

2006-04-21T20:30:00.000-07:00

THIS IS JUST TO SAY

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold
.........................

My interpretation:

THIS IS JUST TO EXPLAIN

I have eaten
the cereal
that you left on
the table

and which
you were probably
going
to finish after you answered the phone

Forgive me
it was delicious
and you left the bowl where I could reach it
and it was getting soggy anyway

Silly rabbit

2006-04-11T10:52:00.000-07:00

Er, silly dog... Cadbury Creme Eggs are for people. Technically (according to Mom), Cadbury Creme Eggs are not fit for human consumption either.

IMPORTANT REMINDER: Chocolate is very bad for dogs. There's something called theobromine in chocolate. It can make us very very very sick. So keep chocolate away from dogs. It's dangerous!

Watch it, my sister will steal your jelly beans! You should have seen Mom chasing that dog around trying to keep the rabbit ears on and getting her to sit still long enough to pose for a picture.

Spring forward, time warp

2006-04-06T17:52:00.000-07:00

Humans and clocks. Pathetic.

Remember last fall when they set the clocks back? I thought we would starve. Waiting an extra hour for dinner is a huge annoyance.

So, here's the weird part: I thought it would be great to get fed an hour early when they set the clocks forward last week for Daylight Savings Time, but Sister and I didn't even notice. We jumped around and made hungry faces at the usual time. Even though the clocks were changed, it didn't feel special. The humans were puzzled. They were all smug, thinking we'd be surprised to get served dinner "early." We didn't realize that the sun was setting later. So much for being rugged dogs who live by the sundial. The human goddess says we must be using "context clues" to tell time. Are we really that domesticated?

Apologies to Carl Sandburg

2006-04-01T20:02:00.000-08:00

FOG

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
.........................

My interpretation:

DOG

The dog comes
on little dog feet.

He stands barking
over any conversation
until you feed him
and then he calms down.

(I admit, not my best work. Let's just say it's a metaphor for global hunger. Feed a dog, feed the whole world.)

I want to be a scientist!

2006-03-24T16:26:00.000-08:00

Toy.

Not toy.

...other important advice:
Repeat after me
Today's lesson
One more time

Cesar Millan's book

2006-03-17T18:44:00.000-08:00

It's coming soon.

Yay.

I guess he's pretty cool. You gotta respect someone who is strong and confident like that. When my humans watch him on his Dog Whisperer show, I always ignore him and pretend I'm sleeping. My sister stares at the tv like she thinks Cesar Millan is some kind of superhuman. It's creepy. Mom liked the episode about the two dachshunds, Chocolate and Cinnamon. One of the dachshunds is a crazy (but cute) fiend that terrorizes the humans and the other dog and tries to attack people and bite everyone. Cesar tells the people they should not let their dog be the boss of the house. They listen to his advice and he helps them fix the problem.

Is Cesar Millan as good as the lengendary Monks of New Skete?

Dog horoscopes

2006-03-15T11:05:00.000-08:00

DogHoroscopes.com has this to say about me:

You have intuitive powers, somewhat picky tastes, and are bold even to the point of being foolhardy. You have perseverance and through it overcome many difficulties. You are fond of outdoors and travel. Your adventurous nature seeks self-expression. Courageous, independent with quick responses, your adventurous streak may spur you to seek out unusual and exciting experiences. You are gentle, affectionate, fond of children and love your home and family. Remember you are meant to be happy!

Pretty darn accurate, except for the part about picky tastes.

Vocabulary list

2006-03-13T16:53:00.000-08:00

I should start keeping track of all the intelligent things I say.

Sometimes I say "Humboldt, a robber." This is probably the key to solving a serious crime. I guess I could call 911 and bark that phrase into the phone.

On occasion I will look at a human and say "You're horrible." Just to keep them honest, you know.

Today I said "waffle cone."

Signs of spring

2006-03-11T20:53:00.000-08:00

1. The obvious: bird signs. A robin looking for worms. A pair of mourning doves perched on a branch, kissing. That was weird. More shoebirds than usual. Mom calls them shoebirds... everyone else calls them nuthatches except those crazy ornithologists, who call them Sitta carolinensis.

2. Muddy ground + warm temperature = more to sniff outside.

3. The burrito blanket (see previous post) has been washed, folded and stored away. Sigh. I miss that blanket already.

4. Less boots to "borrow" from the humans, but more summer shoes.

5. Windows open! Amplified noises! BARK!!!

6. The first opossum of the season creeping around under the trees at night. This was disturbing. From the front, it had the face of a barn owl, but from the side you could see its long snout. A shape-shifter? Mom says opossums are even scarier up close. One time she saw one in the bottom of an empty metal garbage can, staring up at her when she lifted the lid. It had a million teeth like an alligator. Mom is a city girl and didn't know anything about opossums. At first she thought it was someone's ferret that had escaped. A possum in the city? Apparently so!

Recipe for dog burrito

2006-03-02T18:41:00.000-08:00

Take one fresh dog. Leave him alone with a folded blanket. Check after about ten minutes. If necessary, repeat step one and step two until dog burrows into blanket.

Enjoy!

Me, evil?

2006-02-25T14:12:00.000-08:00

Time for a quiz...
How Evil Are You?

I am 22% evil! Here are some excerpts, with my answers:

You've broken the law (A minor ordinance or two)
You've looked at nudie pics online (Only by accident)
You've secretly wished someone harm (Never)
You've kissed someone you shouldn't be kissing (Yeah... I'm affectionate)
You've killed a bug (In self-defense)
You've spit in someone's drink (Maybe a little drool)
You've called someone the "c" word (Cat??? I'd never call someone a cat.)
You've made a promise you knew you were going to break (Not intentionally)
You've done the "walk of shame" (I'm fearless and I have no shame.)
You've shoplifted or stolen from someone (Shoes are my specialty.)
You've vandalized someone's car or house (I shredded a few books and peed in the house.)
You've blamed a fart on someone else (Heh heh, it was the broccoli.)
You have a nemesis (The mailman)
You are disgusted by weak people (No, I love them, they're easy to manipulate.)

Happy Valentine's Day

2006-02-14T11:49:00.000-08:00

My sister wants to give you a big kiss.

Puppy Mover Monorail

2006-02-13T07:31:00.000-08:00

James Horecka is a genius. I love rides, even pretend ones that just sit there. My daddy could probably build one with all those drills and hammers he keeps in the garage. Ours would have a real motor and it would actually move.

Apologies to Robert Francis

2006-02-10T08:49:00.000-08:00

I keep you from going to sleep too soon
Or if you sleep too late
I'll wake you up. Whine any hour
Of night. Come barking up the hall.
Jump on the bed. Scratch on the door.
I make you get out of bed and come
And light a light and let me out.
I tell you the northern lights are on
And make you look. I tell you clouds
Are doing something to the moon
They never did before, and want to show you.
I'll see that you see it. I'll pester you till
You're half as wide awake as me
And you throw on a robe, wondering why
You ever went to bed at all.
I'll tell you the walking is superb.
Not only tell you but persuade you.
I know you're not too hard persuaded.

[based on "Summons"]

What is a pillow?

2006-02-02T19:40:00.000-08:00

The dictionary says a pillow is "a support for the head of a reclining person; especially: one consisting of a cloth bag filled with feathers, down, sponge rubber, or plastic fiber."

We have a pillow that looks like an enormous Hershey bar. It's probably three feet long. This pillow is very very very soft. It's fluffy and cushiony and the cloth is velvety. I reclined on this pillow once. It supported my lazy bones and caressed the exposed skin of my belly. I think I love this pillow.

The human goddess walked into the room. She was annoyed. "Get off that Hershey pillow! It's a decorative pillow. It's not made for a twenty-pound dog to sit on and squash."

What a meanie. And so misguided.

"Decorative pillow" is an oxymoron.

Dog personality test

2006-01-26T10:52:00.000-08:00

To analyze your dog, click here.
__________________________________________________________
My results:

DOGGY DRIVES
Prey = 45
Pack = 65
Fight = 55
Flight = 10

Your dog is probably not easily motivated by food* or other objects, but is also not easily distracted by moving objects. Your dog responds readily to praise and touch, likes to be with you and will respond with little guidance.

*As you can imagine, I fooled the experts without even trying. Food is the Great Motivator, all dogs know this.

I am not a butter lamb

2006-01-23T11:27:00.000-08:00

While I appreciate the sentiment, please keep in mind my sleekly muscled physique next time you're thinking up cute things to call me. Check out these palpable ribs.

Silly humans.

Dog whisperer, again

2006-01-17T11:17:00.000-08:00

Remember Cesar Millan? (This guy is not your everyday pet psychic.) He's been in the news a lot lately, and now he even has his own blog.

He has the right philosophy, and I know he means well. But I want to be the boss at my house. Must resist discipline. MUST RESIST.

This is not a blank stare...

2006-01-10T18:51:00.000-08:00

I am contemplating the incompleteness of quantum physics.

Pets losing battle of the bulge

2006-01-06T15:55:00.000-08:00

LONDON (Reuters) - Just like their owners, a growing number of British pets are becoming obese and face chronic illnesses such as heart complaint, diabetes and arthritis, according to research Friday. A survey of British vets and owners showed that one in three pets, or 33 percent, were considered overweight and 38 percent of pet owners said their animals put on weight over Christmas.
Despite this, few owners plan to put their pets on a diet. "Pets, like their owners, tend to expand a little over the Christmas period," said Frances Wright at Halifax Pet Insurance, who conducted the survey. The survey said signs of obesity included a sagging stomach, bulging sides and a reluctance to take exercise.

There's one word for this situation: irresponsibility. YOU are responsible for what your pet eats and whether your pet gets enough exercise. Dogs want to be healthy but we don't understand calories and fat intake. Food is hard to resist. Don't stuff your pets with table scraps and pizza crusts.

To learn more, download the free Canine Obesity Prevention Pack from the Chartered Society of Physiotherapy.

Dog meditation

2006-01-05T19:00:00.000-08:00

I do this sometimes. No, really. It usually coincides with the event called the Pile. Meditation happens when the male human listens to music. He lies on his back with his eyes closed and his arms folded across his chest. He looks like he's about to levitate any minute, but he calls it "vegetating." Vegetate, meditate, it's all the same. We get into the relaxation zone. Heart rate slows, breathing becomes deep and even. It's something like pretending to sleep.

Other times I meditate alone. The best time is when the human goddess shuts the front door of the bedroom but forgets to shut the back one. I sneak onto the big bed and stretch out on the blankets with my feet up and my eyes closed. After a while I get into a trancelike state. It's relaxing. But if I hear someone at the door, I go from 0 to 60 in less than 2 seconds. Battle cry! Bark!

And then there is ...yoga for dogs.

Apologies to Robert Frost

2005-12-30T07:51:00.000-08:00

Stopping by Woods on a Drizzly Morning

Whose woods these are-- they're mine, you know.
My house is over that way, yo;
But you can watch me stopping here
To sniff the slowly melting snow.

The neighbor man must think it queer
To pause and check the atmosphere
(But it's a task I won't forsake)
The dampest morning of the year.

I give my floppy ears a shake,
My doggy senses all awake.
The forest creatures still asleep
The fog: a blanket, quite opaque.

I think I heard a nuthatch cheep.
But to my mission I must keep,
Miles to explore before I sleep,
Miles to explore before I sleep.

Tribalism

2005-12-28T10:34:00.000-08:00

Tribalism is a social system. The society is a self-perpetuating grouping occupying a particular territory and having its own distinctive culture and institutions. Got that?

Tribalism in dogs is called pack mentality. Sister and I realize that the humans are the Alphas in our pack. Alphas are sometimes known as Exalted Rulers, but if you ask me, that's taking it a bit too far. The hierarchy is a little confusing. I like to test the boundaries.

Pack mentality is why dogs like to sleep with one eye open during the day. It's not even real sleep, it's more like meditating. We're conserving our energy while waiting for the humans to come home so we can assemble as a pack. It's instinctive. We like to stick together. Sometimes I am known as "Velcro."

Dog whisperer

2005-12-27T19:50:00.000-08:00

Lately when I misbehave, the humans threaten to "go all Cesar Millan" on me. I can't tell if this is a threat or a promise. I don't think I like this Cesar Millan person. He uses words like "nervous aggression" when a dog barks at dangerous evildoing intruders like the mailman. And what's this, an outpatient clinic?

In the spirit of the season...

2005-12-22T12:21:00.000-08:00

Remember the animals that are in need of shelter, food, and care. Click on the buttons below to see how you can help, and also please support your local shelters and animal welfare organizations.

Human Society Year in Pictures 2005

I was a weird puppy

2005-12-21T12:47:00.000-08:00

Which of the following describe Z as a puppy?

He was so hyperactive you could never catch him sleeping.
He loved blankets, the more the merrier.
He always wanted water. It was like an obsession!
He was so tough he could only have "indestructible" toys.
He had some separation anxiety issues: If he was being cuddled by one person, he whined because he wanted attention from everyone in the room at the same time.

Big surprise ...all of the above.

Catalogs

2005-12-20T18:34:00.000-08:00

Most of them are a waste of paper. A waste of trees. The humans get a lot of catalogs this time of year, and the recycle bin fills up fast. Catalog is not even a good word. Dogalog has a nicer ring to it.

Newspapers are better. Sometimes on Sunday mornings I grab a section and trot over to my bed and just sit there. One time I took the Sports section and jumped up on the couch with it. Very funny, evidently. My human goddess wanted to take a picture of me, but the camera needed fresh batteries.

The worst thing was the time I took a catalog into my crate. The humans laughed and teased me mercilessly. Well, pardon me for not knowing the Victoria's Secret catalog is funny.

Love-hate relationship

2005-12-20T11:42:00.000-08:00

I can hear it in the distance. It rolls up the street with its engine rumbling. The hyper-mega monster on wheels. The sound of the hydraulic brakes are a carefully nuanced threat. It's huge, it's mean, it's brown, and it's stopping in front of my house. Red alert! Battle cry! Bark! Someone is climbing out of the belly of this monster. He's wearing a uniform. He looks like he has evil intentions. He knocks on the door. Sister and I want to tear him up. We bark ferociously. We're protecting our territory. We hate this guy. He leaves a package on the porch. A bomb? Then he hurries away to bother someone else.

Oh. It's a package for us. Chocolate Nylabones, our favorite! What a nice man. I'm feeling conflicted, but I don't care.

I am the evil paparazzo

2005-12-17T17:30:00.000-08:00

This is a picture of my sister. She's been part of the family for almost two years.

It was right around Christmas in 2003. The humans went out, as humans often do. I thought they were just doing that usual sort of hunting and gathering activity where they come back with bags of food. Was I ever wrong...
(I've told this story before. You can read about it here.)

Remember when I said my sister is a privacy hound? Well, there are limits to my tolerance. Notice the angelic expression on her face. It's really a look of guilt. That's my bed, not hers. Wake up and share the limelight, Sis!

Fearless

2005-12-14T08:11:00.000-08:00

(with apologies to Richard Brautigan)

My sister is afraid of umbrellas. I'm not
afraid of anything and I thunder around
like a barking machine
that's just finished slaying
the world's biggest dragon.

Where's my tinfoil hat?

2005-12-11T12:33:00.000-08:00

This morning I said "ragnarok."

Etymology: Old Norse Ragnarok, literally, fate of the gods, from ragna, genitive plural of regin gods + rok fate, course (later rendered as Ragnarokkr, literally, twilight of the gods)
: the final destruction of the world in the conflict between the Aesir and the powers of Hel led by Loki -- called also Twilight of the Gods
(Merriam-Webster Online)

You know. Ragnarok.

Later we played out in the yard. I'm not very tall but I made a lot of paths in the snow. Some of the paths look like letters or symbols. Mom asked me if I am making crop circles or trying to communicate with aliens.

Sometimes I'm too mystical for my own good. What do you think?

One more time

2005-12-10T18:30:00.000-08:00

Toy.

Not toy.

There's so much you don't know about us

2005-12-04T12:10:00.000-08:00

But you're learning.

ABC News Original Report
Sounds of Dog's 'Laugh' Calms Other Pooches

Dec. 4, 2005 — Researchers at the Spokane County Regional Animal Protection Service in Washington state say sometimes a bark is just a bark -- but a long, loud panting sound has real meaning. They say the long, loud pant is the sound of a dog laughing, and it has a direct impact on the behavior of other dogs. "What we found is that it had a calming or soothing effect on the dogs," said Patricia Simonet, an animal behaviorist in Spokane who has studied everything from hamster culture to elephant self-recognition. "Now, we actually really weren't expecting that."

Nancy Hill, director of Spokane County Animal Protection, admits she was skeptical at first that this noise would affect the other dogs. "I thought: Laughing dogs?" Hill said. "A sound that we're gonna isolate and play in the shelter? I was a real skeptic … until we played the recording here at the shelter."

When they played the sound of a dog panting over the loudspeaker, the gaggle of dogs at the shelter kept right on barking. But when they played the dog version of laughing, all 15 barking dogs went quiet within about a minute. "It was a night-and-day difference," Hill said. "It was absolutely phenomenal." Officials say it works every time, and researchers across the country are taking note. "The laughing sound that they make is something that was not even considered a vocalization until this study was done," Simonet said.

Those who study dog behavior have varying opinions about exactly what Patricia Simonet's "dog laughing" sound really is. What they do agree on, however, is that to other dogs, it is at least a sound worth keeping quiet to listen to.
Copyright © 2005 ABC News Internet Ventures

Today's lesson

2005-11-30T10:23:00.000-08:00

Toy.

Not toy.

Be careful what you wish for

2005-11-29T15:54:00.000-08:00

Snow.

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

2005-11-28T19:59:00.000-08:00

...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."

2005-11-25T07:05:00.000-08:00

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."

Sweaters

2005-11-21T11:41:00.000-08:00

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

2005-11-16T08:34:00.000-08:00

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.

My sister is afraid of the vacuum

2005-11-10T13:31:00.000-08:00

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

2005-11-09T09:27:00.000-08:00

Toy.

Not toy.

Spring forward, fall back, starve

2005-11-04T16:15:00.000-08:00

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

2005-11-02T18:00:00.000-08:00

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...

2005-11-01T16:22:00.000-08:00

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.

Happy Halloween, wiener!

2005-10-31T14:56:00.000-08:00

That is not me. I have a bat costume.

Violent games are best

2005-10-24T08:10:00.000-07:00

Is aggression an undeniable part of our nature? If dogs had weapons, would we use them? Are we innately monstrous? Do I look like some kind of atavism?

Forget the hypothetical anthropology. I love a good growl and the occasional snarl. It makes me feel beastly and powerful. I'm a peaceable creature, except when provoked. Or when I'm feeling ignored and I want to play.

My favorite game is "Robber, Robber." I invented it. I take a toy (usually an "indestructable" ball) from the blue plastic bin, and approach one of my humans. I set the toy on the floor and growl "robber-robber," while daring one of them to try to steal the toy. If they move toward me, I grab the toy and run. They chase me around the house. A series of stops and fake-outs ensues. It's almost like football. If no one wants to play, I get a little rough. I deposit the toy directly at the feet of a human, and make demanding sounds. Sometimes they give in, sometimes they say impolite things.

My sister's favorite game is "Bang! I Shoot You!" The human goddess gives the directions:

SIT. Then, DOWN. Then she aims her hand like a gun and says:

BANG! I SHOOT YOU!

My sister rolls over and acts mortally wounded. After a few seconds, the human says "ALIVE!" And then my sister jumps up and gets a treat. I never play this game, but I get a treat just for being there. I love it.

Oppression, thy name is Enforced Bedtime

2005-10-23T21:04:00.000-07:00

Doggy quiet time is imposed eight hours before the morning alarm.

I'll have more to say tomorrow, but while you're waiting, would you like to be entertained by some wondrous creatures? Check out Dachshund Pages.

Is it Indian Summer yet?

2005-10-13T08:35:00.000-07:00

There was Apache fog this morning.

Leaves are falling. They don't taste very good, but they're fun to step on. The air smells different. A primal instinct is taking hold. It's called hibernation. Any excuse to curl up on a cozy blanket.

Shouldn't someone be baking an apple pie?

I'm an open book

2005-10-05T10:36:00.000-07:00

I blame this tail. I can't stop it from wagging. It's hard to be nonchalant when one of your appendages is out of control. The humans think it's funny. They laugh and call us "waggity-wags." The more they say it, the more we wag. It's a wagfest! We're pathetic! Today the human goddess called us "wizzy-wigs." WYSIWYG. That's an acronym for What You See Is What You Get.

Maybe it's a source of amusement, but you know it's part of what makes dogs superior to humans. No duplicity. Well, almost never, and only when there's a really important reason. Like, when we pretend we have to go outside to poop but we really only wanted to chase squirrels or rabbits.

Striking a pose

2005-10-02T18:07:00.000-07:00

Mysterious.
Sophisticated.
Me.

About domestication

2005-09-28T07:18:00.000-07:00

On Animal Cops they show people conducting a test to see how tame or potentially adoptable a dog is. They take a stray dog or a dog that was removed from a dangerous home. The dog is usually very hungry, or even literally starving. Well, they place a bowl of food on the floor in front of the dog. The dog starts to eat the food. The term "wolf it down" comes to mind. You're watching one very determined dog. It's all about survival.

While the dog is eating his food, a human comes along and pokes at the food with a plastic hand on a stick. The dog may attack the plastic hand or growl a warning at it. The growl can mean anything from "Stop annoying me, can't you see I'm starving?" to "Get away, that's MY food, you moron!" to "I'll kill you if you come any closer!"

These responses are wrong. The correct response is to ignore the plastic hand.

I think I'd fail this domesticity test.

If you mess with my food, I might growl. If you tried to steal my food, I'd probably pretend I was going to bite you.

But my fate doesn't hang in the balance. I'm not perfect. I'm too feisty at times. And yet, I know what I can get away with and what will get me in trouble. Like Dirty Harry says, "A man's got to know his limitations."

Pavlov in Circadia

2005-09-21T07:07:00.000-07:00

This morning we had our scoops of food and our drinks of water, same as every other morning.

We went outside to use the bathroom.

We came back in.

At that very same moment, our Man came home from work. I know this because he walked in the front door, and he was wearing his nice work clothes and The Black Shoes. Hey!!! This is great! I love you!!! I run in circles! I lick The Black Shoes because I'm so happy to see you!

What? He was only bringing in the newspaper? He's saying goodbye and going back out the door?

You'll have to excuse me for looking stunned. Someone changed the rules without telling me.

Chocolate-Chocolate-Chocolate!

2005-09-20T07:51:00.000-07:00

Want chocolate. Need chocolate. Do you know how good it smells? No, of course you don't; you're just a human with an inferior sense of smell. Imagine the way you chocolate smells to you, and then intensify that by 1000%.

In the morning She takes a cup of green tea and a bowl of cereal into the computer room, where she checks the news, reads email, and maybe updates her blog or argues with people in a forum. "Discusses," not argues...

OK, back to chocolate. When She finishes the tea and cereal, she gets some chocolate from a secret stash. I'm sure I would never turn down a Hershey Kiss or a Snickers, but this chocolate is different. It smells so pure and dark, you'd think it had no sugar or emulsifiers. It must be really special because she won't touch anything "under 70%."

I used to beg for some of this chocolate, but no matter how cute or pathetic I act, I'm not allowed to have any. This doesn't make sense to me-- why some foods and not others? She lets my sister and me have some scrambled eggs or small pieces of fruit, but never chocolate.

So now, instead of begging for chocolate, I just get wistful around it. And when She goes to the kitchen to rinse the tea cup and the cereal bowl, I zip over to the computer room and check the floor. Once in a while I find a tiny flake of chocolate there.

The best thing ever

2005-09-19T09:10:00.000-07:00

The best thing in the world (besides food) is an event called the Pile. When a Pile is announced, we jump up on the king-size bed and socialize with the humans. We get lots of praise and attention. We never get tired of hearing how cute we are and what good dogs we are. Sometimes we swoon over onto our backs to get tummy rubs. Then we start competing for attention. We get called "jellybeans." That sounds suspiciously similar to the word "jealous." Probably a coincidence, but who cares, anyway? With dogs, the end ALWAYS justifies the means. I can be really persistent. I am referred to as Attention Hound or Demando Snout.

When the male human decides to host a Pile while reading a book, the event is more subdued. We have to sit around chewing a Nylabone or just acting lazy. It's called "bonding." It's better than nothing, but sometimes I get bored and start trouble.

You're not the boss of me

2005-09-12T17:30:00.000-07:00

My sister is not the worst dog in the world, but she has some annoying habits. She thinks she can tell me what to do and she even tries to herd me around. She's part dingo or something. I'm not going to tell you her name because she thinks the internet is boring and she's too Zen to care about blogging. It's funny, she answers to a few different names anyway. This is because she came from a dubious and scattered background. At first I thought that was real shady, but then I found out she had a not-good life as a puppy and ended up in a shelter.

When the humans brought her home, I hated her immediately. I barked ferociously at this four-legged intrusion. Was I going to have to share my food? Was this dumb dog going to take attention away from me? Was my smug little world about to be shaken? I remember waking up the next morning. What? She's still here?

She likes me; I tolerate her.

Poor doggy. She didn't even know how to play with toys. We gave her those chicken things that you bite, and those vegetable things that you bite. Booda-somethings. Then after a few weeks of gnawing on those, I let her share my Nylabones. Now we spend some time chewing on "virtually indestructible" Nylabones everyday. Our humans call it "the bone factory." We have the strongest jaws in town from all that exercise. As bad as our bark is, our bite is even worse, so watch it, suckers!

She's a pretty good dog, after all. Way more well-behaved than me. I don't mind if she bosses me around sometimes. I know I'm still the prince of the universe.

Soup

2005-09-12T11:25:00.000-07:00

How to make soup:

Take one dog or two dogs. Place outside on a very warm day. Allow dogs to bake in the sun for a minimum of 5 minutes. If you like a more pungent soup, let the dogs sunbathe a bit longer. (Never forget to let the dogs back in before they get too hot!) Bring the dogs in. My humans say, "What's that smell? Were those dogs cooking soup again? Ewww!" The human goddess says we are too aromatic and it smells like Crayola soup. Sometimes she just doesn't appreciate haute cuisine.

It's a strange phenomenon or a chemical reaction. The soup odor magically disappears in a little while. Then we smell like sweet graham-crackery dogs again, and no one can resist us.

Dinner was ten minutes late tonight

2005-09-11T17:27:00.000-07:00

I barked extra loud just to show them how hungry I was and how neglected I was feeling. My humans had that supermarket smell on them when they finally walked in the door. What's in those bags? Nectarines. Cereal. Ice cream. Nothing for the dogs.

Dinner, when it finally came, was delicious as usual.

Remind me to tell you my recipe for soup. There are rabbits in our backyard, but don't worry, it's not that kind of soup.

Time to get some hugs and cuddling.

The importance of being vigilant

2005-09-10T07:50:00.000-07:00

The worst thing in the world is the mailman. You should see him, he's really scary. My sister and I have to protect our people and our house from him. He sneaks up on the porch, wearing some kind of military uniform. I think sometimes he wants to steal our food, or even put a bomb or anthrax in our mailbox. But we scare him good! We bark so loud it makes him jump. We sound much bigger than we are. My sister sounds like a Rottweiler. I sound like a Doberman.
We're a good team.

In the crate

2005-09-09T14:20:00.000-07:00

I'm a good boy, most of the time.