Wednesday, November 04, 2009
No Morsel Left Behind
as printed in the Spring 2009 edition of The New Barker
It all started one day when I was nosing around the sofa and a faint waft of some long lost crumb caught the attention of my highly calibrated SONAR (Sniff Out Num-nums And Recover) system. Not wanting to risk my find going public, I immediately shoved my snout as far as I could between the seat cushions in search of that elusive morsel. Darn it, those seat cushions are deep! So, I resorted to the next best thing. Long, deep snorts. Snort! Ahhhh. Snort! Things were going fine until daddy made me stop.
Then and there, I knew there was no shame in trolling for treats and by no means should any morsel, no matter how small, ever be left behind. Morsel-mania was born; I had a mission!
Then there is that kibble mystery; one moment it’s there and then suddenly…it’s gone! Who knows where it went!? I had a bite of yummy but then the bowl is empty just like that. Oh, I’ve pawed at my bowl and even nosed it around the house to see if the kibble might re-appear, but it never has. What’s most amazing is this happens all the time and when I look up from my suddenly empty bowl, mommy acts like everything is cool.
But, she does that about other stuff, too. Do you know that she doesn't even lick out her own bowl? and daddy's just as bad! Unbelievable, right? All that goodness wasted. Rosie and I savor those occasions when they'll let us do the lip smacking honor of cleaning their plates and bowls. And while Rosie has this speed-lick technique happening, I wield a torqued up, power swiper that can out-lick the best of them, paws down!
Just remember, you can be minding your own dog-business, nose to the ground, when a coveted piece of broccoli or carrot tidbit will drop right in front of you. The one second snag and scarf dogma rule says, ‘if you can snag said tidbit and scarf it down a second before mommy…or your sister can get to you…it’s all yours’!
Mission accomplished my fur friend!
It all started one day when I was nosing around the sofa and a faint waft of some long lost crumb caught the attention of my highly calibrated SONAR (Sniff Out Num-nums And Recover) system. Not wanting to risk my find going public, I immediately shoved my snout as far as I could between the seat cushions in search of that elusive morsel. Darn it, those seat cushions are deep! So, I resorted to the next best thing. Long, deep snorts. Snort! Ahhhh. Snort! Things were going fine until daddy made me stop.
Then and there, I knew there was no shame in trolling for treats and by no means should any morsel, no matter how small, ever be left behind. Morsel-mania was born; I had a mission!
Then there is that kibble mystery; one moment it’s there and then suddenly…it’s gone! Who knows where it went!? I had a bite of yummy but then the bowl is empty just like that. Oh, I’ve pawed at my bowl and even nosed it around the house to see if the kibble might re-appear, but it never has. What’s most amazing is this happens all the time and when I look up from my suddenly empty bowl, mommy acts like everything is cool.But, she does that about other stuff, too. Do you know that she doesn't even lick out her own bowl? and daddy's just as bad! Unbelievable, right? All that goodness wasted. Rosie and I savor those occasions when they'll let us do the lip smacking honor of cleaning their plates and bowls. And while Rosie has this speed-lick technique happening, I wield a torqued up, power swiper that can out-lick the best of them, paws down!
Just remember, you can be minding your own dog-business, nose to the ground, when a coveted piece of broccoli or carrot tidbit will drop right in front of you. The one second snag and scarf dogma rule says, ‘if you can snag said tidbit and scarf it down a second before mommy…or your sister can get to you…it’s all yours’!
Mission accomplished my fur friend!
Saturday, February 07, 2009
Rosie's Little Hopper
as printed in the Winter 2008/2009 edition of The New BarkerI’m not covering for her anymore. Rosie is addicted to FDTV (Front Door Television) and when that’s not available, she resorts to the Wide Screen window-worldview where she keeps watch for lizards, squirrels, birds and any other animals of interest. She always talks about how some day she’s going to catch her own critter. Yadda yadda yadda.
But, the other day, she took things a step further. Rosie managed to smuggle a dried up, dead, but otherwise perfect specimen of a frog into the house. She showed it to me and immediately, her "cool factor" went up a solid notch.
What a find! Oh sure, shriveled up vermin are everywhere, but this prize was invaluable! She wanted a pet…or a dessert…(it's hard to tell sometimes) and carried it around with her from room to room and even curled up to sleep with it at nap time.
Her big mistake was taking her bragging rights too far. Mommy saw her rounding the corner with this blackened trophy in her mouth and, BUSTED! At first, mommy acted all grossed out. But, after she recovered, this little piece of contraband (who knew?) was finally retrieved, and after close inspection, we were all sufficiently impressed there was not so much as a single munch mark on the blackened carcass. Uh, oh…I really hope this isn't a sign of weakness on Rosie's part!
Then mommy made us sit down and told us "never EVER bite a frog" and made us pawmise to leave all frogs, dead or alive alone forever after. She was really being all serious and stuff, so we each offered our forepaws and shook on the agreement. Then to seal the deal, mommy gave us each crunchy treats…and a coveted tummy rub...SNAP!
More importantly, Rosie has mastered the skill of sneaking stuff in to the house. My protégé has learned quickly from the master. Well done, grasshopper.
But, the other day, she took things a step further. Rosie managed to smuggle a dried up, dead, but otherwise perfect specimen of a frog into the house. She showed it to me and immediately, her "cool factor" went up a solid notch.
What a find! Oh sure, shriveled up vermin are everywhere, but this prize was invaluable! She wanted a pet…or a dessert…(it's hard to tell sometimes) and carried it around with her from room to room and even curled up to sleep with it at nap time.
Her big mistake was taking her bragging rights too far. Mommy saw her rounding the corner with this blackened trophy in her mouth and, BUSTED! At first, mommy acted all grossed out. But, after she recovered, this little piece of contraband (who knew?) was finally retrieved, and after close inspection, we were all sufficiently impressed there was not so much as a single munch mark on the blackened carcass. Uh, oh…I really hope this isn't a sign of weakness on Rosie's part!
Then mommy made us sit down and told us "never EVER bite a frog" and made us pawmise to leave all frogs, dead or alive alone forever after. She was really being all serious and stuff, so we each offered our forepaws and shook on the agreement. Then to seal the deal, mommy gave us each crunchy treats…and a coveted tummy rub...SNAP!
More importantly, Rosie has mastered the skill of sneaking stuff in to the house. My protégé has learned quickly from the master. Well done, grasshopper.
Monday, December 15, 2008
The Dude
Today I am: The Dude. And Rosie is Lil’ Missy (she doesn’t like the name and refuses to call me “The Dude”, but that’s okay…I’m still calling her Lil’ Missy).
So, Me and Lil’ Missy started our day here at the Paw-derosa with our morning campfire kibble followed by mid-morning tummy rubs and a puppy power nap.
Then, we saddled up and rode down yonder to the Dude Ranch (aka “dog park” for you city folk) for a meeting with my posse to discuss important issues such as techniques for avoiding bath time and sharing tree-mail messages from the neighborhood gang. Lil’ Missy was trying to get everyone to chase her; she thinks its all fun and games (even in a Western, she’s just gotta be a Diva!).
There are these really big dudes on the other side of the fence. They like to poke their snouts through the links and stare us little guys down. Today, me and my posse took a stand! We taunted the big Dudes with a few barks, and then challenged them to a showdown… in the form of a lethal fence run. (Being good natured and all, we decided to let the big dudes win.) After gulping down refreshments at the watering hole, we sniffed each other and the meeting was then adjourned.
When we returned home, Dad and I shared some Dude time, and then we recharged our Dude and Lil’ Missy power packs with more naptime and the perfect treats…rawhides! ARF…I mean…um, Yeehaw!
Later, while I moseyed around the ranch being cool, Lil’ Missy ambushed me from the laundry room. That was it! Time for a good puppy smackdown! I am back to being the super puppy hero with puppy powers and a concealed cape! And Lil’ Missy is the Diva Roo and all is well in the House of Happy Nubs.
So, Me and Lil’ Missy started our day here at the Paw-derosa with our morning campfire kibble followed by mid-morning tummy rubs and a puppy power nap.
Then, we saddled up and rode down yonder to the Dude Ranch (aka “dog park” for you city folk) for a meeting with my posse to discuss important issues such as techniques for avoiding bath time and sharing tree-mail messages from the neighborhood gang. Lil’ Missy was trying to get everyone to chase her; she thinks its all fun and games (even in a Western, she’s just gotta be a Diva!).
There are these really big dudes on the other side of the fence. They like to poke their snouts through the links and stare us little guys down. Today, me and my posse took a stand! We taunted the big Dudes with a few barks, and then challenged them to a showdown… in the form of a lethal fence run. (Being good natured and all, we decided to let the big dudes win.) After gulping down refreshments at the watering hole, we sniffed each other and the meeting was then adjourned.
When we returned home, Dad and I shared some Dude time, and then we recharged our Dude and Lil’ Missy power packs with more naptime and the perfect treats…rawhides! ARF…I mean…um, Yeehaw!
Later, while I moseyed around the ranch being cool, Lil’ Missy ambushed me from the laundry room. That was it! Time for a good puppy smackdown! I am back to being the super puppy hero with puppy powers and a concealed cape! And Lil’ Missy is the Diva Roo and all is well in the House of Happy Nubs.
Alas, the Dude has left the ranch.
Thursday, May 29, 2008
Sea Monster Flashback!
There’s a dirty trick that mom played on me when I was a wee pup. She airlifted my small, furry frame right in to the most horrifying place on earth: the evil bathtub. Horrors! And to make matters worse, there was a sea monster in there, too! Its face was this fizzing nozzle that sprayed water all over me…and it wasn’t by accident, either. Nope. Mom took aim, dousing me with one long spray of water and mistook my stunned reaction to this hideous ritual as somehow being enjoyable!
Without hesitation, I broke free and scampered to the edge of the tub in search of freedom. With all my puppy might, I tried to pull myself up out of that evil tub away from that sea monster; I even folded back my ears to maximize my aerodynamic exit. But, somehow mommy’s arm came out of nowhere and transported me right back in the middle of the torture chamber. What’s worse is I was then soaked from nose to nub with this icky watery lather.
Now, I will confess that at this point, there was a full body massage, which was kinda nice. It would have been greatly improved, though without the unnecessary inclusion of all that water afterwards. But, soon I was swooped from the tub to a big towel in daddy’s arms; safe at last.
The good news was that I had managed to make it through that evil bathtub monster experience in tact (believe me, I checked!). But, the bad news was this was only the first of many recurring evil bath tub events to come.
Let’s be reasonable. I am a dog. Does mommy have any clue how long it takes me to smell like a dog? The process, I have found, involves searching out just the right combination of wet grass, mud, and any assortment of eau de decay fragrances just waiting to be frolicked in to achieve this feat. And all it takes is one bath and I have to start all over again…trying to smell like a dog.
It’s just not right.
Without hesitation, I broke free and scampered to the edge of the tub in search of freedom. With all my puppy might, I tried to pull myself up out of that evil tub away from that sea monster; I even folded back my ears to maximize my aerodynamic exit. But, somehow mommy’s arm came out of nowhere and transported me right back in the middle of the torture chamber. What’s worse is I was then soaked from nose to nub with this icky watery lather.
Now, I will confess that at this point, there was a full body massage, which was kinda nice. It would have been greatly improved, though without the unnecessary inclusion of all that water afterwards. But, soon I was swooped from the tub to a big towel in daddy’s arms; safe at last.
The good news was that I had managed to make it through that evil bathtub monster experience in tact (believe me, I checked!). But, the bad news was this was only the first of many recurring evil bath tub events to come.
Let’s be reasonable. I am a dog. Does mommy have any clue how long it takes me to smell like a dog? The process, I have found, involves searching out just the right combination of wet grass, mud, and any assortment of eau de decay fragrances just waiting to be frolicked in to achieve this feat. And all it takes is one bath and I have to start all over again…trying to smell like a dog.
It’s just not right.
Saturday, October 20, 2007
2007 SPCA Paws on Parade Petwalk
Dog costume parties are so cool...as long as the big G and me are only there as spectators! Roo! Of course, we were already stylin' in these rockin' red SPCA Paws on Parade Petwalk bandanas. We nosed up so many pawsome pooches and were quite impressed with all the decked out dogs ready to compete for best Halloween duds!
Three Roos to everyone who was there and all who support the SPCA!
Saturday, September 22, 2007
Poos and Wayward Coolers
It’s getting all dark and thundery outside and mom decides to take Rosie and me outside for a “quick potty”. Of course, the first thing we do when we go out is paws, stick our snouts in the wind and get the latest news on who’s been where and what they left behind, if anything. This is essential, and yet mommy insists on interrupting our a-roam-a-therapy session with her prods for us to get down to business.
Well, first of all, this is our business. We are monitoring the entire cul-de-sac for friend and foe; all mere steps from our front door. In fact, I used my puppy superpowers just the other day when I eyed some scary looking box on our neighbor’s driveway. Without hesitation, I rushed at the offender (keeping a prudent distance, of course), the dog fur on my neck spiked as my super cape unfurled and I barked with intent at that imposter!
Mom kept saying it’s just a cooler, but what she doesn’t know is how dangerous this ‘cooler’ was before I rendered it harmless with my GPS (Guinness Puppy Subwoofer).
So, Rosie and I oblige and do our bit for grass and weed. Now, this is what’s interesting. Mom would not appreciate us gracing her floors with our poos. So, why does she make this big deal about picking up our poos and bringing them INTO the house? Answer that one.
I can’t help but stare with my head tilted and my mouth open in a giant grin as she eagerly scoops up our recently deposited treasures and then rushes in the house with her bagged prize. And mommy thinks our passion for sniffing dead lizards is illogical. At least we don’t bring them in the house (mainly because when we do, she takes them away and we never see them again!).
I just finished rolling in some smelly stuff on the sidewalk and I notice that Rosie is now barking at her pet squirrel that’s just scrambled up the tree. Let’s face it; dogs do stuff that makes sense.
Well, first of all, this is our business. We are monitoring the entire cul-de-sac for friend and foe; all mere steps from our front door. In fact, I used my puppy superpowers just the other day when I eyed some scary looking box on our neighbor’s driveway. Without hesitation, I rushed at the offender (keeping a prudent distance, of course), the dog fur on my neck spiked as my super cape unfurled and I barked with intent at that imposter!
Mom kept saying it’s just a cooler, but what she doesn’t know is how dangerous this ‘cooler’ was before I rendered it harmless with my GPS (Guinness Puppy Subwoofer).
So, Rosie and I oblige and do our bit for grass and weed. Now, this is what’s interesting. Mom would not appreciate us gracing her floors with our poos. So, why does she make this big deal about picking up our poos and bringing them INTO the house? Answer that one.
I can’t help but stare with my head tilted and my mouth open in a giant grin as she eagerly scoops up our recently deposited treasures and then rushes in the house with her bagged prize. And mommy thinks our passion for sniffing dead lizards is illogical. At least we don’t bring them in the house (mainly because when we do, she takes them away and we never see them again!).
I just finished rolling in some smelly stuff on the sidewalk and I notice that Rosie is now barking at her pet squirrel that’s just scrambled up the tree. Let’s face it; dogs do stuff that makes sense.
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
2007 Guinness & Rosie Barkalutions
Guinness and Rosie share with you their dreams of achievement from the bottom of their Canine-American doghearts for the coming year.
Together, we wish you tummy rubs every morning and a dog treat on your puppy pillow every night. May you enjoy the very best in 2007.
Guinness:
Rosie:2007 will be the year I catch the big one…a duck, that is. Yep. Before I herd it back to the lake I’ll use my super puppy powers to crouch low, sneak up and snag him! I’m not sure what I plan to do with the duck once I have him; probably just ruffle his feathers and let him go. You know, most fowl have no sense of humor. Either way, it’s going to be fun for me!
I’ve got huge plans for this year; I’m going to grow up big and climb trees. Guinness can sniff and read his tree-mail all he wants and judging by the number of tree-mail accounts he has all over the place, I'd say he’s pretty pawpular. Nope, my interest is in tracking one of those snarky squirrels right up in to the tree itself! They're always running around stealing stuff and scrambling up out of reach. Now, I like my petrified frog and my nearly dead limping lizard; but my goal is to get a pet squirrel to chase around by the lakeside. Who knows? Maybe we could even have a squirrel tossing contest…those bushy tails have to be good for something!?
