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.

Alas, the Dude has left the ranch.

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.