Dog Blog

The Box Stopped Here

2011-12-14T19:48:00.000-05:00

So, I was lounging in the front room, inspecting my physique and making minor grooming adjustments as needed, when I notice this big, brown truck hauling around the corner and stopping right in front of my house. Well, this is obviously a serious change to my scenery, so I quickly set off the EBS (Emergency Bark-casting System) alarm and Rosie came running in to join me. Then mom came over and peeked outside. Then she turned and told us that this situation was OK (Really? I’ll be the judge of that!), and that we needed to halt the EBS, post haste. So, Rosie and I run over and observe that, not only is that behemoth vehicle still out there, but now, some strange person has emerged from this brown monstrosity carrying a box…and heading right up to our front door!

This is SO not “OK”! QUICK!!! ACTIVATE EBS ALERT!!!

This time, Rosie adds to the drama of the moment by spinning around in a circle while she is barking. Even I stop sounding off long enough to stare at her…impressive! There’s no denying the diva has mad multi-tasking skills! The doorbell rings…and, what does mommy do (after giving us the evil eye)? Run and hide? No. She opens the door and brings that mystery box in to our domain and sets it on the floor and leaves the room! At this point, the EBS is temporarily suspended whilst the diva dog and I approach said box and cautiously sniff. Hmmm…this is a canine-drom, for sure.

Rosie and I start pawndering on what was inside that box. Maybe there’s a bunch of lizards in there…or a duck! No sound of lizard toes scurrying about or flapping wings…then mom comes in and notices us staring at the box. “You’ll have to wait”, she says. WAIT? That’s a four letter word in dog vocabulary. Not cool, but at least that giant truck was gone now…super puppy powers prevail!

Then, without so much as a care, mommy goes over and starts tapping away on that keyboard she calls a “computer”. Seriously? What about that box??? How can she stand the suspense? So, I enlist my ‘go-to, never fail’ tactic; I pop my fluffy bum up on the loveseat behind her and assume the most irresistible look I can manage. And just stare at her. Pretty soon, mom spins around in her chair, gives me a scratch behind the ears and goes over to the box; I know my hypnotic laser focus has worked its magic.

At last…the contents will be revealed….our gazes are fixed as she pulls out the most amazing item…a squawking, rubber chicken! As she tosses the floppy bird in the air, Rosie and I vie for first chomp!

And to the big brown truck filled with boxes of dog toys, I say dogspeed, my friend…dogspeed!

As seen in the Holiday 2011

Edition of The New Barker

Summertime Funny Bones!

2011-10-06T20:09:00.000-05:00

People are funny to watch. They do silly stuff that would make any dog scratch his head in wonder. Like when mom will go in to the bathroom and shut the door and, of all things, leave me on the outside! Who knows what she’s doing in there. For all I know she’s trying to sneak out some secret door…or maybe she’s in there just laughing and laughing at her people joke. I have to find out! So, I’ll just shove my snout under the door and sniff around…sometimes, I’ll even lie down and just wedge my nose right in there and wait, so she knows I know she’s in there. My puppy superpowers will not be thwarted!

Then there’s this thing daddy does that has to be a joke. He puts a leash on my sister Rosie and me, and then announces that he’s ‘taking the kids for a walk’. Ha, ha!! Now, that really is funny. Everyone knows we’re the ones taking him for the walk! So, we just look at each other, crack a dog grin and go along with it. After all, daddy never has learned to fully enjoy the finer things in life. Someday we’ll convince him to pounce on lizards, chase squirrels, shove his face in to the tall grass and take a deep whiff or upon discovering a decomposing worm – just throw himself on top of it and roll around on his back…until then, he will paw through life completely unenlightened to the kind of bliss worth barking about!

Dog jokes are a whole other thing, though. Like when mom thinks she is going to be sleeping in and I give her a big lick with my dog tongue right across her eyelid…voila! The eyes open instantly…BOTH of them! Or when she’s on her computer and I want to play…I just go over and nose the blue light on the metal box that just happens to be in my line of sight. Next thing I know, I have her full attention! Okay, those are combo dog jokes and magic tricks, but it’s pretty doggone funny to watch her reactions!

Speaking of magic, I can make a really, really big treat disappear right before your eyes! Wanna see? Me, too! I keep begging dad to let me practice, but he just said, ‘that dog won’t hunt’...another people joke?

As seen in the Summer 2011 edition of
The New Barker Magazine

The Art of Pawsuasion

2011-05-26T19:22:00.006-05:00

One of the top dog talents that all canines worth their whiskers will tell you is most essential to master, is how to get the most out of that treat jar, literally! It’s called the Art of Pawsuasion.

For example, when my little sister Rosie first arrived, she didn’t have a clue how to effectively work her dogness to her full advantage. Oh sure, she was cute and that counted for something; but what I’m barking about is developing a real, bone-afide technique that you can count on working every time, paws down.

My strategy is indirect and can be employed nearly every day with reliable results. For the small yummies, just rest your chin on their leg or arm and gaze at them longingly. This usually sends them directly to the treat jar and score! Simple, yet effective.

Now, for the king of dog of treats: the Kong™ filled with lip smacking frozen yumminess. You have to wait until you see mommy or daddy doing the most horrible thing imaginable, which is, of course, taking a bath and then immediately they start running about “getting ready”; which is code for: they are going to be leaving the house and it’s a prime moment to work a bit of guilt on them for that big treat before they leave.

This takes precision, but over time you learn to position yourself where they can’t miss you and just stare at them with the biggest eyes you can make. Once they see you, then really lay it on thick with a few long sighs, never taking your eyes off of them the entire time. At this point, they usually say something like, “awww...we won’t be gone for that long...”. To properly close the deal, just do something irresistibly cute like flip over on your back and twist around so you keep them in your line of sight and as they walk out of the room, race ahead of them and hop up on the sofa and wait...the sweet taste of success is on its way.

I also think they don’t stay away as long, but I’m usually sleeping off my peanut butter filled Kong™ so I really can’t be sure.

As seen in the Spring 2011 edition of
The New Barker Magazine

Hot Diggity Dog, It's Summertime!

2010-09-25T09:42:00.008-05:00

I can’t help it. It’s an addiction that I find impawsible to ignore – it drains my puppy power packs and leaves me gasping for air with a giddy, tongue-hanging-out-smile from ear to ear. And I’ve tried to pretend that I don’t care, but just a glimpse of that crazy yellow tennis ball makes my heart race! And let me tell you, Rosie may be a half pint, but don’t underestimate her; she can run with (and sometimes under) the big dogs to secure that prize.

That power ball flies fast and taunts all with its irresistible bounce. I can find a cool patch of shade, plop down in the grass and declare a time out, but when that orb goes airborne, I have no choice; my dog body is compelled to follow. Even daddy is not immune to its charm; he throws it, then changes his mind and insists we give it back to him after we catch it! You’re not going to believe this, but then he throws it again! We are all in its grip!

But, it is summertime in Florida and dog, is it HOT outside! So, the first thing I do when I get in the house is slurp up loads of water, then throw my fur-clad condition on the cool, tile floor and breathe really hard until I am ready to fall asleep. At that point, I maximize my comfort by thrusting my short legs out for a big stretch, then roll on my back and drift off to doggy dreamland.

That’s when the RPMs (rapid paw movements) start. Or at least, that’s what mommy tells me. I’ve seen Rosie do this and boy is it funny to watch! Little white paws flying around and even her whiskers are twitching…ha! I’m sure my moves are way cooler.

Someday I may find out how to resist the power of the tennis ball; maybe it lies somewhere deep within my secret super puppy powers. Until then, I will continue to refine my technique to stay a nose ahead of Rosie…or at least in a dead heat!

As seen in the Summer 2010 edition of
The New Barker Magazine

The Scratch & Sniff Tour...of Spring

2010-06-24T17:01:00.005-05:00

There are some really cool advantages to being height challenged. When food drops to the floor, my low-riding, high velocity, 4 paw drive shifts in to gear and I can appropriate the wayward nibble in a snap! I’m also just the right height for two year old toddler hands…that are usually holding yummies! It’s convenient for scoring a taste, too! I just go up and give them a big lick right on their face (if I’m lucky, sometimes they taste like peas or carrots - bonus!). If they have a cookie in hand, they seem more than happy to share that with me, too!

One thing I can’t do is reach that door handle. So, it’s a mystery what to expect until the door is opened. Some days, it’s rainy and wet and Rosie will race out the door looking for Mr. Squirrel until she gets wet, then she runs back in the house, shakes off and gives us all a confused look like, “what just happened?” Of course, I have to go over and give her a sniff…yep, wet dog.

Okay, so today the door opens and no cold rain! Immediately, it’s snouts to the ground and we were off! Finding flowers to smell this winter has been nearly impawsible! First there were all these blankets outside covering stuff up…like big ghost-plants which is just downright scary to behold. I barked at them so they knew I had special powers. There was one day I saw these big red flowers and ran up, my dog heart racing with anticipation, and to my amazement and shock…they were imposters! Some kind of people joke, I’m sure, sticking fake flowers in a yard with dead grass. Ha ha. So, I left my signature on one and walked away.

But on today’s Scratch and Sniff Tour, what we happened upon made us stop and stare in disbelief. Tall, green grass…everywhere! Without hesitation, I plopped myself down right in the middle of this jungle and looked back at the Roo who was pouncing after a rogue lizard. As I looked up, I saw a bunch of those feathered upstarts flying overhead…I would deal with them another time; for now, I had snagged the prime spot and I wasn’t about to move!

Ahhhh…spring time is finally here!

As seen in the Spring 2010 edition of
The New Barker Magazine

The Superbowl is Coming!

2010-01-05T18:19:00.011-05:00

So, I was sniffing out my tree-mail and leaving my signature, as needed until I spotted Rosie getting all serious, shoving her delicate diva-snout in a patch of grass with purpose. Well, whatever was going on was obviously going to require my personal attention, so I went over to see what was so important. Rosie had discovered a nicely decomposing lizard that had the most intoxicating fragrance. Eau De Decay!

Just as I was about to assimilate the aroma of this claim for myself, Mom decided it was time to move on. Bummer. Later that day, I told Smokey, our new puppy pal next door about our cool find and he was quick to share a few of his own points of interest. After giving him a good sniff, I could tell even at his young age that he possessed a discerning puppy palette for the "good stuff". Smokey was kinda showing off, so I think he's sweet on Rosie, but don't tell him I said that. Growl of Honor.

Smokey wanted to learn how to play football like a big dog, so I showed him some moves and he used those long schnauzer puppy legs to his advantage, but he was still a noob! As the star running back, I was going in for the touchdown and here comes Smokey breaking through and trying to tackle me. Paw-leeeze. Score!! After my very excessive celebration in the end zone, I let Smokey have the football to work practice runs. Rosie was playing referee and gave me two paws up when I scored.

After taking turns slurping water, we each lay in the grass breathing really hard and wondering if another dead lizard might be close by.

Yesterday, Daddy told us there was a Superbowl coming up and Rosie and I are very interested to see just how big a "super" bowl can be! Will it be filled with all the yummy-munchies our Auntie Sheryl sends us? Or maybe even the most coveted treat...cheese or maybe even turkey?

Whatever the contents, we are anticipating that Superbowl Sunday may well be our favorite Howliday of the year...maybe even better than Growl-O-Ween!

As seen in the Winter 2010 edition of
The New Barker Magazine

No Morsel Left Behind

2009-11-04T18:48:00.006-05:00

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!

Rosie's Little Hopper

2009-02-07T15:38:00.005-05:00

as printed in the Winter 2008/2009 edition of The New Barker

I’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.

The Dude

2008-12-15T17:37:00.003-05:00

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!

2008-05-29T19:10:00.002-05:00

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.

2007 SPCA Paws on Parade Petwalk

2007-10-20T17:07:00.000-05:00

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!

Poos and Wayward Coolers

2007-09-22T13:47:00.000-05:00

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.

2007 Guinness & Rosie Barkalutions

2007-01-02T13:13:00.000-05:00

Guinness and Rosie share with you their dreams of achievement from the bottom of their Canine-American doghearts for the coming year.

Guinness:

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!

Rosie:

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!?

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.

Merry Christmas from Guinness & Rosie

2006-12-26T14:21:00.000-05:00

Thanksgiving is over and boy was it yummy
With big bites of turkey that filled up our tummy!
With Uncle Greg, Cousin Tango and Daddy we played
We ran and we rooed, then we called it a day!

The best part of Christmas is the late morning snooze,
In a big bed with mommy and daddy and Roo,
Under blankets and pillows the Roo and I dream
Of huge slabs of turkey and sautéed green beans!

So if your holidays seem to race by like a blur
And your invites all start with Dear Madam or Sir,
No matter how formal the dress codes may hail,
As Pembrokes, remember for us there’s no tails!

Have a very Corgi Christmas and a Pawsperous New Year!

Party Animals

2006-11-10T20:42:00.000-05:00

When Rosie and I hopped in the backseat for a ride, little did we know mommy was taking us to a big dog party! There were dogs everywhere and the only thing I could surmise is that they were here to see me because of my puppy super powers and to meet the Diva Roo in person. This kind of thing happens all the time.

We were busy greeting everyone with a nose to nose ‘hello’ when we discovered a unique benefit to partying with the big dogs; Rosie and I could cruise by being all cool and catch a sniff with nothing more than a casual turn of our snouts!

But, the best part was the dog treats...they were everywhere! Me and the Roo scarfed down as many crunchy pup-munchies as we could get and the liver treats were yummy enough to make us smack our chops…Snap!

Mom says it was a fundraiser for the SPCA. All I have to say is it was one fur-tastic soiree!

Rain, Rain...Go Away!

2006-08-20T14:30:00.000-05:00

The Roo is back! Guinness is doing his doga stretches so this Diva Roo decided to take matters in to her own paws.

It's summertime and hot. When we go to the DP (mom's code for dog park), we bark and paw at the gate until it opens...then the race is on! A fence chase with the big dogs is always riveting. But, in the summertime, three or four chases is all we can manage until we have to gulp down some water and find a shady spot in the dirt to plop down.

Lately, right around prime duck herding hour, it starts to rain. Big "roo" on THAT. Mommy seems quite happy with the rain for the grass and stuff. But I ask you; what about the ducks? So every afternoon, I lay by the FDTV (front door television) and stare out at the drops of water eating away at my chase time and wonder...where are the ducks?
Surely they miss me as much as I miss them. I have a turbo charged 4 speed quadro-ped engine just waiting for some action! When I'm at full tilt, my bunny-butt can compete with the best of them! And when we marshal the lakeside, no fowl dares hesitate.

So I chew on my bone and wait. Then the rain stops. Snap! Let the herding begin!

The Thrill of the Kill

2006-07-30T12:19:00.000-05:00

Our adopted parents have this strange illuminated screen they sit and stare at rather intently while their fore-paws are tapping away at a keyboard. How completely boring. Especially, when they could be busy doing things of infinitely higher importance.

Such as a tummy rub for me…or a good scratch behind the ears…followed by a tummy rub (I’m flexible!). I nudge them with my nose, even roll on my back, but a quick pat on the head is all I get. So, I leave and return with one of my many projects: a squeak toy that is in need of a good de-squeaking.

You see, Rosie and I have power chompers. That’s right, we are uniquely qualified in this talent. We can fix the squeaking problem of most any toy; plastic or stuffed. If it squeaks, our power chompers are primed and ready at a moments notice to thrash, tug, chew and pull apart every part of that toy to get to the problem causing the squeak and remove it.

No matter how tough the toy or how much it resists, we always get our squeaker. Mommy must appreciate our precisely honed skill as she is always bringing home more of these intact toys in dire need of disemboweling. In fact, there’s only one thing that feels better than ripping the stuffing out of our victim (for medical reasons only, of course!). That’s right!

It’s the thrill of the kill!

The Roo Speaks

2006-06-17T16:05:00.000-05:00

Guinness agreed that it was time that I addressed my fans and friends out there. I am known, of course as the Diva Dog, the Golden Roo Child, and the Drama Queen...and I'm cute, too! Now, you may get the impression that I'm the impetuous little sister that likes to lay in wait to ambush my unsuspecting big brother and take his toys, etc.…and that’s kinda true.

Except…well, there’s so much more to it than that!

Why be only one dimensional when it comes to picking on your big brother? I’m talking strategy and being sneaky and stuff like that. Like waiting until Guinness is sprawled out in one of his big puppy stretches and he’s trying to look irresistible for mommy or daddy…then, like a tiger, I come racing out of nowhere and pounce right on his belly! ROO!

Or, if Guinness is showing off by using his super puppy powers to fly and catch the Frisbee, I’ll be waiting for him to nip his furry little bottom when he lands, then try to take ownership of the Frisbee!

Oh, and by the way taking his stuff is one thing…charming my way in to keeping his stuff, is just brilliant, don’t you think?

Of course, he doesn't always appreciate my sense of humor, but there’s usually a good round of puppy smackdown that follows any of my pranks, so my ornery and frequently spirited attitude of play has its mutual rewards.

All in all though, Guinness is my best bud in the whole world. We hunt squirrels, herd ducks and sniff dead lizards together...all activities mommy and daddy refuse to partake in.

Here’s a ROO out to everyone reading this blog!

I’ll be back!

Let Sleeping Dogs Lie

2006-05-05T15:55:00.000-05:00

Dog naps are one of the true perks in the canine kingdom. The real trick is to always keep one eye kinda open in case something interesting happens...like a people food morsel drops to the floor or your little sister tries to sneak up on you for a surprise attack. These are things you should always be prepared for, naps notwithstanding.

I think the Roo is dreaming of licking out that last bit of her peanut butter Kong. There's nothing like a yummy treat and then a good long nap. She likes to cuddle with daddy every chance she gets, too.

I like a good cuddle, too but not for too long. I have super puppy powers to think about and I can't risk getting my cape all wrinkly and stuff.

Honeymoon Island

2006-03-22T20:22:00.000-05:00

I have this theory. When Daddy and Mommy tell us they are leaving for 'work', that must be like a dog park for humans! Yep. They probably go and chase Frisbees and roll on the ground all day long. Then we get to go with them on the weekends. Of course, the other possibility is that they are really going to the groomers for a bath....ugh! What a horrible thought...a bath every day!? Perish the thought!

The other morning, Rosie and I went for a ride to the dog park...or so we thought! Daddy and Mommy were chatting away and before we knew it, we were there...but there wasn't there...it was here and here was somewhere completely different!

Then we saw our cousin, Casey and oh, boy the fun started right away! We strolled through the park area taking in all the dog sniffs we could get away with and met lots of other canines. Then, we snarfed up treats and sported our totally cool bandanas for the Humane Society.

But the most awesome part was the beach. This was a first for Casey, Rosie and me. When Daddy showed me what looked like dreaded bath water coming to take us all away...I barked at it until it retreated, then walked away knowing I had saved the world once again.

It came back.

At that point, I was determined to become it's nemesis, which would require my full super puppy power skills and the official unfurling of my cape to conquer this relentless adversary.

Of course, while I was wrestling with my rival, Rosie and Casey enjoyed a good game of chase. Then Daddy played Frisbee with all of us and we reveled in the sand until we dropped.

Rosie fell asleep on the way home. She and the rest of the world can sleep blissfully, now that the threat of the evil beach water has been vanquished.

It's called Honeymoon Island, but we call it a puppy's paradise!

A Brush with the Fairy-Dogmother

2006-02-02T18:43:00.000-05:00

Rosie demonstrating the power of FDTV

One day last week, while the Roo was watching FDTV (Front Door Television) and I was sprawled out on my back in my classic doga pose, "Share It With The World"; mommy was rummaging about in some box that seemed rather important to her.

Without warning, she snapped out this baggie clearly labeled, "Rosie's Puppy Teeth".

Well. Let me tell you. Thank goodness Rosie can't read, yet. I thought, self, be cool and no harm done. Right?

But, no. Mommy then proceeds to proudly display her find and announce to daddy that Rosie's baby teeth were so much smaller than mine. Duh?

By now, Rosie's attention had been diverted from the FDTV and she is now cocking her little head clockwise, then counter-clockwise, then back again - all the while staring at the baggie.

Rosie wondering what prize mommy has found!

The Fairy-Dogmother is a serious right of passage for all puppies. I remember mommy taking every tooth as Rosie lost them, placing them under Rosie's pillow at night and the hyper-Roo actually stayed really still and slept all night so that in the morning...the Fairy-Dogmother would leave a dog biscuit in place of the puppy tooth.

Oh, sure, she'd take her biscuit and parade around and show off; but it was hers and she earned it.

Damage Control Alert!!! I knew I had to do something, and quick!

I immediately sprang into action and quickly nosed her ear with one of her favorite tug toys and she took off after me - we enjoyed a puppy smack down until mommy started digging in to some other box. Whew. Another bullet dodged.

Me giving Rosie a "pre-smackdown" distraction

The Fairy-Dogmother's tail should be preserved.

2006-01-15T10:08:00.000-05:00

Mini-Me...or SHE?

2005-11-28T17:54:00.000-05:00

Have you ever looked at someone and felt like you were looking at a mirror of yourself? You have? Really? Well, I can't say that I have. But listen to this...the other day mommy comes in from work and daddy isn't with her. WHAT? No frisbee time!? So not cool. Mom throws like a girl. Big surprise there. In situations like these...you skip the Frisbee and go for a treat. Mom's a softie.

After the Roo and I sumptously feasted on our kibble and had a good round of puppy smack down (for mommy's entertainment, of course), daddy came home...with HER! When I beheld Casey's perky ears, mascara rimmed blue eyes and nubby tail, it was dogbreath-taking! Who was this mysterious canine creature of lovliness that looked just like...a mini-me!?

Me with Rosie and Casey with her parents
(my Uncle and Auntie) David and Bridget

Oh, no! Casey's a SHE! Well, being the debonaire dog of wonder that I am, I introduced myself with a quick sniff to her tiny, fluffy Corgi behind. But, before I could proceed you know who (the ROO!) shoves her little face in there between me and my subject du jour, grabs a good whiff and proceeds to take over!

How RUDE! But, Casey seemed to love it! I couldn't believe it. Rosie even took her from room to room showing her all MY toys (like they belong to her!). Then they played Rosie's favorite game "catch me if you can" and little Casey raced as fast as her short legs could carry her! Mommy was saying it's Rosie's motherly instincts, but I say she's just a glory hound.

Casey and Me acting cool with the Glory "Roo" Hound

Before the night was over, Casey and I did mingle a bit, compared notes and then she fell asleep in the same puppy bed I had when I was her age. She looked so peaceful.

Casey taking a snooze in my old puppy bed

We were sad when she went home with her adopted parents. But, some day I'm going to reveal my true identity as the Super Power Pup and show her my cape and all.

Some day.

Just a Waft is all We Ask

2005-11-05T17:44:00.000-05:00

When Rosie and I take mommy for a walk by the lake, she doesn't always seem to fully appreciate the time it takes for us to thoroughly sniff the grass, trees and other odd and sometimes smelly and/or damp items we happen to discover.

At a moments notice, I can burrow my snout so deep in the right spot in the grass and take a deep whiff...ahhhh...but it's not long before I'm being shoved aside by the "Roo" and my find has now gone public.

Ah, but for that brief moment, it was all mine.

And the lake has all these ducks that need to be herded. It's the wildest coincidence that Rosie and I happen to be the smallest of the herding breed! When I see those feathered upstarts feasting about on crumbs, I feel emboldened by my calling and chase them back to the water where they belong...mission accomplished.

Me with my Protege...a Duck chase is in the offing!

Then, there's a roster of canines that have registered with individual trees that must be reviewed. Sniff. Review. Sniff. Of course, I must add my signature of approval. This is an important part of my job as a dog with superpowers. Being a girl, Rosie doesn't get to add her signature, but she can sniff and wish.

Can you believe that sometimes mommy starts pulling on our leash like what I'm doing is not essentially significant to the peaceful coexistence of man and beast worldwide? I hope she remembers this the next time mommy sniffs a tree or dead lizard or some other delightfully putrid substance.

The Rules of Engagement

2005-10-06T17:44:00.000-05:00

There are certain rules that should be understood. Playing tug-a-war with Rosie and the fleece rope is pretty simple. I pull, she pulls, I pull harder, she growls and yanks; you get the idea. Not a game that requires a high IQ or much strategy. Just a good deal of stamina.

However, put mommy or daddy on the other end of that rope and everything changes. First of all, I'd like to state that this is MY rope that we're talking about here. (If you cannot appreciate the significance of that statement, please refer to the "Diva Dog" post, just previous.)

The ownership issue aside, it should be pointed out that a rope tug-a-war is a one-ended battle. I mean, really. How bad does mommy really want my toy? Now, Rosie's a different story. The little "Roo" (one of her many annoyingly cute nicknames - gag!), will throw down in the worst way to win control of the rope. She'll even lay across said rope to ensure I can't sneak in and reclaim it when she's taking one of her afternoon snoozes.

Oh yeah? Well, little "Roo", just so you know, the higher the chomp, the bigger the thrill! Oh sure, you can swing around for the ride if you want, but the real toss happens closest to daddy's paw. He's real big and strong and when he starts up the game, you'd better get a good grip and hang on! I've been personally known to go completely airborne to snag the highest point of clampage. Believe me, it's impressive to see.

the www.guinnessthedog.com/webcam.html

LIVE webcam captures my incredible talent for all to see!

What worries me and keeps me up at night is the thought that what Rosie lacks in size, she'll make up for in sheer boldness! She doesn't care about the rules of engagement. Oh, no. Rosie believes in RULING the engagement!

Diva Dog

2005-08-01T19:01:00.000-05:00

Daddy told me that Rosie's relatives are champions. Kind of like movie stars. They win all these cool trophies and people show up from all over the world to watch them in the show ring. So I guess Rosie comes by her little Diva Dog attitude honestly.

For instance, she has two crates. Actually one of them is mine, but she thinks it's hers. It's like she has her private little apartment in the laundry room and then the (my) penthouse out in the kitchen when she wants to see and be seen. It's not that I want to use it - I'm scared to death of the thing. But, she just hops in there anytime she pleases without so much of a care.

And what's worse is she snags my bacon bone when I'm not looking and retreats to MY crate where she knows I won't go to get it back. Oh yeah. And she hoards my favorite toys in there, too.

Diva Dog in (my) crate with (my) stuff!

I've tried barking and even whining at her to give my stuff back. But she just blinks those big, brown eyes at me like she thinks she's cute or something. Not.

Every so often, mom goes in and gets everything out of there and I quickly try and re-confiscate all that I can, but it's never long before Rosie eyes something of mine as she swaggers through the house and then it starts all over again.

One day I'm going to be a big dog and I will be able to to use my superdog-mind powers to get my stuff back. Until then, I'll just have to be at the top of my game and hope this little Diva Dog makes a mistake.

Rosie's Little Hopper

2005-07-10T10:25:00.000-05:00

The other day, 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 we were all sufficiently impressed there was not so much as a single munch mark on the carcass.

How did she do that? You should see when Rosie savagely disembowels a stuffed toy to get to the squeaker; pillows of fluff are everywhere – yet, this dead frog remained intact? Hope this isn’t a sign of weakness on her part! (For the record, the squeaker removal technique is yet another supreme talent that I’ve passed on to Rosie from personal experience.)

Me Teaching Rosie SRT (Squeaker Removal Technique)

More importantly, Rosie has mastered the skill of sneaking stuff in to the house. My protégé has learned quickly from the master. Good grasshopper.

Beware of Crouching Corgi!

2005-07-05T19:50:00.000-05:00

So the other day, I’m trying to instruct Rosie on the finer points of “Dizzy Dog”, (where you flip your opponent on her back and proceed to spin her in a circle on the floor), and all she was interested in was paw-to-paw combat! She actually reared up on her short little hind legs and tried to wrestle me – for real! Ha! I had a good dog laugh over that one. Please. I can hold her at paws-length indefinitely, but she doesn’t know that, yet.

Oh boy and she got really mad at me for laughing at her, too.

Later that day, I was just minding my own dog business, you know: trawling for treats, being especially cute for mommy, etc., and out of nowhere (she was hiding out in mommy’s workout room – sneaky little thing!) BAM! the little sniper hits me with all fours! I’m talking a full on attack! Of course, I immediately launched on her with a good smack-down, a long sniff, and then just walked away like nothing happened.

As if she could snarf on my coolness...no way, poco-loco Churro!

Someone's got to keep an eye on her!

Oh yes, she’s still churring only now it’s all the time! Sometimes when she’s sleeping I just gaze at her. I hear my adopted parents cooing "it’s so cute, sweet Guinness caring for his little sister”. Yeah, right.

Actually, I’m staring at her in complete amazement. How can so much churring come out of that little head of hers?

WWW Puppy Smackdown

2005-06-14T19:08:00.000-05:00

Like any savvy pup, I enjoy a good bark, a yummy treat (or two!) and a good game of Frisbee. And don't even get me started on the art of beating other dogs to the tennis ball. What can I say? It's a gift.

I have recently developed a new entertainment package for mommy and daddy that includes Rosie. (Mommy started calling her "Rosie-Roo" and thinks it's just so cute. I need to have a talk with her because this is not cute. No, not all; just embarrassing.)

So maybe I had a little, bitty help from Rosie on this, but if you could see me in action, you'd know it really is all about me.

First, we wait until the adopted parents are relaxing in the front room, most likely reading or watching something on the big TV. Then, Rosie and I come tearing in with a toy and start this friendly neck-nip play...just petty stuff. Then, after we know we have their full attention, we start the WWW PUPPY SMACKDOWN! (The "WWW" stands for 'world wide web', or 'wild-eyed woof-woofs' - take your pick.)

This sport is quite simple. Just grab your challenger by the scruff of the neck and smack her down. I'll act all wimpy sometimes to make Rosie think she's superior... but then I rise up and give her a good smackdown where she's flipped on her back and acting all bothered about life. Ha.

Rosie taking a Smackdown!

Everybody knows I have puppy superpowers, but I actually hold back because my cape would really mess me up. After all, a true superhero can hold his cape.

What's a Churr?

2005-04-30T07:51:00.000-05:00

There are some weird noises I've heard in my puppy life; such as the vacuum cleaner, mommy's hair dryer and that game daddy plays on his computer.

But I've never before heard this sound that my little sister Rosie makes. When we’re running around playing with daddy, she’ll just stop, sit down, throw her head back and…churr! It’s this happy sound…and mommy and daddy start this ‘oohing’ and ‘aahing’ over her, which is just not necessary, in my opinion.

I have sniffed her all over. More than once. So, I’m convinced she is not an alien even though she sounds like one when she does that churr sound.

(CLICK HERE to hear what Rosie's Churring sounds like!)

Rosie is my Frisbee Apprentice

So, now I’m teaching her new games, like Frisbee. I try not to use my super puppy powers to fly up and catch it, but there are times I am airborne and this just can’t be helped. Then there’s this tug of war with my toys…she even does this churr-growl!

Growl-Churring for my Toy!

And now she’s churring at me! She’s got my attention!

Running with Rosie

2005-04-27T10:46:00.000-05:00

I don’t know where to start. It started with what I thought was a ride to the dog park and ended up with another dog parked next to me in my neat little world. Technically, she’s a puppy. Her name is Rosie and she’s really smart, too.

All this talk about a little sister and how great it would be…well, I’m not so sure about that. What’s all this sharing business that’s been going on. First my toys, then my treats…and then my mommy and daddy!! What’s next? Not cool at all.

Look at Rosie fly!

And just when I think I’ve had enough of this little beast, she starts this wild running around thing that makes me have to chase her. I don’t know what happens, my heart races and I can’t help myself. I see this streak of fur go by and I’m compelled to catch it! Okay, so maybe I’m a little crazy for her, but I’m not telling her that!

Rosie's pretty cool for a sister!

Of course, she can’t fly like I can and she doesn’t have super puppy powers, either. So that means I’ll need to protect her from all the big scary things like trucks and noisy stuff, just like I do for my mommy and daddy.

Just wait until Rosie gets a load of my unfurling cape when I spring to her rescue! Man, will she ever be impressed!

My First Barkday!

2005-03-06T19:07:00.000-05:00

Did you know that birthdays are a big deal? Like I'm talkin' treats and toys - this is serious stuff! It was early (like "the sky is still dark" early) and my adopted parents woke me up singing this birthday song and sounding all happy. I just acted all cool waiting to see what it all meant!

Well, aside from a strongly protested bath (a dog should smell like a dog is what I say!), I had a fun evening getting all kinds of hooman treats like cheese and...well, CHEESE! Let's face it. This is the ultimate in treats. I can barely contain myself just catching a whiff of the stuff!

Then Saturday, Miss Hilary gave me a very cool squeek toy for my birthday gift - she understands what a dog really wants.

Miss Hilary gave me the
coolest squeek toy

Then my cousin Tango came by with his adopted parents and we had a full on Barkday Party going on!!! Daddy played frisbee with us then Tango and I romped all over the house. After that, we had ice cream and I got all kinds of very cool gifts from my godparents and my adopted parents, too! Yummies and toys - what more could a boy want?

I will say that the birthday hat bit is going too far. Please. It is NOT cool and is only intended to make us look silly. Yeah, Tango and I put up with it for a few seconds but then we just had to put our paws down. I'm sorry, but this is going TOO far.

Tango and I in birthday hats -
Who's brilliant Idea was THIS?

Every day I'm busy saving the world with my super puppy powers and I'm still trying to conquer that darn doorstop! Besides, that hat does NOT go with my cape.

My First Superbowl!

2005-02-06T13:21:00.000-05:00

It's early in the day and my adopted parents are already talking about this big event tonight called the Superbowl. My puppy brain immediately started to envision a super, giant bowl of dog treats! And that sounded just fine to me. Why wait until tonight? Bring it!

So then mommy takes me to the dog park to chase and be chased by Molly and Porter (very cool Beagles) among other pooches. At full tilt, my short Corgi legs can give Miss Molly a good run, but then I can't help myself. Just when she thinks she's ahead, I rev up just past her and herd her off to the side! Sometimes she just hops right over me...I think I'm in love.

Back home, I sprawl out on the kitchen floor and enjoy my rawhide and contemplate just how super big this superbowl is going to be! Yummy treats in mega-proportions!! Oh, yeah.

Waiting for my first Superbowl!

Then mommy brings out this Buccaneers bandana and ties it around my neck - maybe it's a big bib for all those treats...? She tells me the Buccaneers won the superbowl a few years before I was born, but I can't remember. Lucky dogs.

Until my superbowl arrives, I'll just drift off and dream of all those goodies in that super, big bowl!

Double Trouble?

2005-01-25T18:32:00.000-05:00

Last weekend I think my big adorable brown eyes were playing tricks on my puppy brain. My Uncle Greg and Auntie Cecy (also my god-parents) came over and brought me super yummy treats and cool toys, too! They are so awesome.

But then I caught eye of my cousin Tango and in a sudden furwind of excitement, we started romping through the house. Through the family room, the kitchen, the dining room...we wrestled and rolled until we were out of puppy breath.

That's when it happened. The doorbell rang and I dutifully barked to alert mommy and daddy that intruders had arrived. Do you know that they opened the door and just as I thought...intruders?! Oh, I tried to warn them, but my adopted parents don't know any better and they just let them in the house like they know them or something. hmmmph.

Then this duplicate Tango comes bouncing in and tackles Tango and off they go! Well, I didn't mean to be rude or anything, but I just stood there stunned. Come to find out this pretty lass was named Luna. Her and Tango were fun to play with...but two?...that looked so much alike? And they liked to gang up on me, too. But I could handle them with one paw behind my back.

Daddy and his brothers play
with Tango, Luna and me

I hope Luna will come back, she was a fun addition to puppy playtime. All day long, I thought I was seeing double. I kept blinking and blinking. Double is good. Double treats are better.

My First New Year!

2005-01-09T18:31:00.000-05:00

Here we go again. Loud things that go BOOM in the night. Why is a new year a big deal? Why? Doesn't it happen every year? So why make big scary noises to celebrate? Of course, I wasn't scared. Oh, no. I was hand fed cheese all night, so I have no complaints (and I wasn't afraid, either, okay?). No. I am only concerned for my other fur-brethren. That's all.

The next day I saw my trainers Miss Hillary and Miss Anna at PetSmart. They are so pretty. Mom says it's only puppy love (sigh).

Then, my Uncle Greg brought over my new cousin, Tango!

Me and Tango

He's a mini-Aussie puppy and we had rough and tumble fun all over the house! Tango ate my food and chewed on my dingo cane, but one thing he couldn't do...was jump on the sofa like me. I am superpup! Oh, he tried and tried, but he couldn't reach me as he watched in stunned amazement as my supercape unfurled in the wind.

Fluffy butts and nubby tails!

I do have one puppy resolution to make: to save mommy and daddy from the mailman, the band down the street and the invisible stuff only I can see, then turn on the irresistable charm for one never knows when a yummy treat is in the offing! Cheese is good. Paws Up!

A Very Guinness Christmas

2004-12-28T19:58:00.000-05:00

There's this "tree" that mommy dragged in from the garage and propped up on a little stand. Then she threw a bunch of sparkly stuff on it and it made her happy. Daddy told me that there would be days like this.

Of course, after some minor investigation (sniffing (just to be sure) and a little nibble when she wasn't looking), I knew Mommy had been taken! That's not a real tree, but an imposter! For her sake, I just act really cool around this plastic tree-wannabe, but I know.

Then it appeared. On the floor in front of the plastic tree-thingy and it's all wrapped up...for ME! Wow! I sniff and back away for observation. Then I circle it and consider the possiblities.

Hmmm....smells yummy, then I pounce and bark at it. (The fact that it's in paper and I'm not allowed to chew up paper, sends the super puppy powers in to overdrive-alert mode.) It's a trap! I'm sure of it!

Finally, with a little help from daddy, I discover it's a bag of Beggin Strips from my Auntie Marcia and Uncle Bob (they are so totally cool)! Then I get another gift - it's in a Superman bag! My godparents know about my super powers and have brought me chewing supplies! AWESOME!

But it's not over, yet! Next, it's a Dingo Bone...but not your average, every day, chew-them-down-to-a-nub Dingo Bone. Uh-uh. This is the ultimate. A Dingo Cane! That's right, a Dingo Bone in the shape of the biggest Candy Cane ever! Santa Paws really does know how to reward a good puppy!

Me with Yummy Dingo-Cane

As I write this, I have one paw on my Dingo Cane and am gnawing my way in to happy puppy world. But I wanted to let you know that in my house, it was a very Guinness Christmas! God bless you all!

Giving Thanks Puppy Style!

2004-12-17T17:32:00.000-05:00

A curious event happened in my world. One night mommy and daddy took me to my Uncle Greg's house for something they call Thanksgiving. Do you know, there were so many people there, obviously just to see me. In fact, I spent quite awhile just greeting everyone individually. And if all those people weren't enough, they had tables laden with delicious treats for me, too. The odd part was everyone was eating all this yummy stuff except for me.

So there I was. Mingling and chatting up the guests. Being the consummate gentlepup and all the while, no yummy treats that I could get my paws on... at least, not yet. Enter my Uncle Greg. Now here's a guy who understands a puppy should not live on kibble alone. (mommy and daddy - that's a hint!)

Me with my Uncle Greg

Back to me. Above the din, I hear my name. I round the corner and there he is. My Uncle Greg and he's waving the biggest piece of turkey I've ever seen right in front of my cold, wet nose. (OK, this is the first piece of turkey I've ever seen this close!). Needless to say, he had my full attention. Daddy protests about my diet (diet? what's that?), but my Uncle Greg prevails and I gobble up the morsel in delight. This happened more than once that night...shhhhhhhh!

I truly love my Uncle Greg. And Thanksgiving.

How Early is Too Early?

2004-10-20T21:03:00.000-05:00

First, I would like to make it clear that I am NOT a morning pup. I prefer to sleep in and have my water brought in to me to sip at my leisure in bed. Oh, yes. When my adopted parents wake up so early in the morning, they interfere with my essential RPMs (rapid paw movements) and force me out of my puppy slumber. Not very considerate, if you ask me.

Sleep deprivation...why?

Then Mommy wants me to take her out for her morning walk. Is it even considered morning if it is still dark outside? I digress. Many are the times I must valiantly protect Mommy at that early hour from the evil trash cans that mysteriously appear on our street overnight! A powerpuppy must be prepared to face danger 24/7!

In the course of her walk, what Mommy does not seem to understand is that I cannot just poo in any old place in the grass. Sniffing for that perfect spot takes time! If Mommies pooed, they would certainly understand! It's a precise decision and cannot be rushed. So I continue patiently with my efforts to train Mommy.

And this is what I am forced out of my comfy bed for so early in the morning?

Rawhide Heaven

2004-10-03T08:43:00.000-05:00

Right now, I am as close to puppy nervana as one can get. It's new! It's rawhide. Where have you been all my puppy life?

I love my rawhide treats!

Oh sure, when mommy first brought this home, I wasn't sure if it was a toy or a treat. (Sometimes it's just hard to tell the difference.) So, when she asked if I wanted it, of course, I said 'yes'. Rule #1 for ALL puppies: never, ever turn down something new. It may be super yummy and if it isn't, just sniff it and walk away.

Back to me. So, I tell mom that I would be most pleased to accept her offer and then proceed to do the piddly stuff that makes her happy (sit, down and roll over, etc.), then she happily gives me rawhide and I'm on my own to figure it out. First I sniffed it. Interesting. So, then I tossed this foreign object in the air. Ker-plunk! I just stared at it.

Nothing.

Then I ran around with it and taunted daddy because I know he really wants it for himself. He chased me all over the house until I wore him out. Finally, I decided to just chew on it. BINGO!

Who would have known that something so tough could be so wonderful?

Where's My Treat?

2004-09-19T19:30:00.000-05:00

I have this fun toy that gives me yummy treats as I nose it around on the floor. It's a round, lime green orb with moonlike craters so I can pick it up and transport it directly to the spot I want.

Me and my orb of treats!

Here's the problem. As I'm romping through the house with the treat orb at my nose and scarfing up the yummies as soon as they pop out, there are times I bump it in to the sofa and one of the little treats gets lost underneath. Not good. I have little paws that can't quite reach under the sofa and as soon as I start digging the floor to tunnel my way to rescue lost treat, my adopted parents will stop me and expect that I'll be cool about leaving lost treat under sofa and just go on my merry way.

I may act cool, but inside I'm thinking about it all the time. All those missing treats. What happens to them? Who gets them? It's enough to keep me up at night.

Then one day, I watched in horror as mommy pulled out the sofa and there were all of my M.I.A. treats! And what does she do? VACUUMS THEM UP!! How could she?

So now, I'm more careful. And I try to sneak in when she's vacuuming to snatch up my treats before she can get to them.

Because puppy treats are good, but eating them is better.

My Nemesis

2004-09-10T19:49:00.000-05:00

Oh, woe is me. I just managed to survive a most harrowing experience. It's happened several times in the past and always without warning. Although, I am in serious doubt whether I can survive another event like this.

Today, when mommy and daddy got home from work, I carefully positioned myself as the super watchdog, peering first from a corner through the gate to be sure it's friend and not foe! Then I jumped up with my front paws and gave them my usual greeting which consists of wiggling my whole body (especially my nub tail), and generally acting giddy and mildly out of control. You should see how excited they get.

Anyway, back to my horrifying experience. So here I am, busy being Superdog and chasing the bad guys like the trash can and mom's huge purse. Then, when I least expect it, my whole furbod is lifted up and perched atop the bathroom sink as mommy treats my super sensory ears, then (and this is the scary part!), she actually puts me in the TUB!

How embarrassing!

Next thing I know, the water comes on and I'm it's target! The rest of the experience is a mix of suds and water. All I can say is I try to protect myself from this treacherous event by vigorously protesting, but it never works. As often as it has happened in my short life, you'd think I'd be used to this unwarranted activity.

Well, I'm not. Mommy and daddy call it a bath. I call it unnecessary trauma.

Guinness the Superhero

2004-09-02T20:29:00.000-05:00

I am Super Pemby! With powers even I do not fully understand. And I can fly, too! At least between the sofa and the loveseat! That may not seem like much, but in that brief moment, a red cape unfurls from my shoulders, I feel the wind in my ears and I know I am invincible.

Of course, with these super pemby powers comes an important responsibility. I am the defender of my home from all bad guys. Like the other day, I discovered this plastic mult-colored, semi-opaque placemat. Now, you may think it was harmless and mommy sure acted like it was supposed to be something useful. But with my penetrating optical super powers, I alone could detect this was an alien lifeforce that must be conquered.

The Pounce Maneuver!

At once, I barked. And loudly, too. This was a first warning. When it would not leave, I then pounced repeatedly on the miscreant. Oh, it put up a fight, all right. Sliding all over the place, the wimp. But I was relentless in my pursuit and eventually apprehended placemat.

It's still here, but it now exists under my control. Super Pemby Power saves the day. Again.

Couch Potato Pemby

2004-08-28T16:51:00.000-05:00

Oh man am I good, or what? Even as my ambidextrous peds are flying over the keyboard, I have to say I'm rather impressed with myself. Since adopting my parents, they have taunted me with calling me up to the sofa with them, knowing full well my short puppy pemby legs were no match for the height.

C'mon, Give me a Boost!

I would hop on my back legs, pulling furiously at the top of the sofa seat with my front paws, trying to maneuver my long puppy frame to where mommy and daddy were. They, of course would help me up, but only after laughing at me first. Oh sure, they would say stuff like, 'Oh, isn't that cute', and 'look how hard he's trying with those short little legs'. Insensitive is what I call it. Definitely NOT funny.

Anyway, the other day, I saw daddy holding another puppy friend, "Frisco". I was cool with it and all until he started really pouring on the affection. Well, that was pushing it. So, I decided to let daddy know that I was now available for his attention and also to inform Frisco that I was the alpha-dog in this house - so he'd better watch himself. So, I just hopped up on the sofa.

Look Mom! No paws!

My goodness! You'd think I just won the olympic gold medal for all dogs! Daddy's been getting me to repeat this feat over and over now, acting all proud and stuff.

Really, dad. Didn't they tell you I was born with super puppy powers?

The Holding Pattern

2004-08-24T12:08:00.000-05:00

Have you ever been gnawing contentedly on your favorite bacon nylabone, thoroughly enjoying the moment, savoring the texture and flavor of a finely crafted dog bone, when you suddenly find yourself being airlifted? No warning. No chance to run and hide.

These giant arms materialize and lock under your furbod and you are quickly separated from your bacon bone, the floor, the savoring and gnawing...this is not a pleasant situation. Mom, especially is guilty of this irrational behaviour. For shame.

Next thing I know, I'm sitting on her lap, leaning back and trying my best to give her that annoyed look that I just can't seem to perfect. She oohs and ahhs and wants to cuddle. UGH! I throw my head back and willfully look in the opposite direction. Why does she pick on me?

I've found the only bargaining chip that has any sway with her is to give her kisses on the face. This little appeasement is the surest way to find freedom from her clutches and return to my previous state of enjoyment.

She just loves it. Crazy woman.

My Own FairyDOGmother?

2004-08-23T18:28:00.000-05:00

You know how you can be trotting along through life, when all of a sudden it happens. The unthinkable, never in a million dog years could it happen, happens. Well, maybe not a MILLION dog years, but you get the idea. A bounty has been placed on my head, or more specifically, my teeth! Unimaginable, right?

I'm a puppy and I'm losing my teeth. This cannot be good! And now, without warning, Mom has morphed in to this crazed fairydogmother...snatching up any stray tooth that goes flying while I'm thrashing one of my stuffed toys about. She triumphantly pulls out this ziplock bag and proudly drops her prize in with the rest.

Oh, and she's gotten worse! I'll just be minding my own business, blowing a coat here, scarfing up a treat there...and then SHE appears - from nowhere! Hoping to get lucky and snag another puppy tooth. I mean it Mom, STOP!

What will she do when I run out of teeth?

A Gross Misconception

2004-08-15T19:33:00.000-05:00

When I was taking mommy for her evening walk tonight, I took advantage of an opportune moment to slurp up some murky gutter water from the last few days of rain. What a find!

Mommy's immediate reaction was something less than thrilled. In fact, she acted like she was disgusted! I know it's hard to believe, but there she was giving my collar a firm pull and saying "ICKY!" (code word for "that may be yummy to you, but you can't have it.") This also seems to apply to bird poop, my poop, worms and bugs (dead or alive), and to any stray item or interesting smelling gooey mass to which I may encounter and want to stake claim.

As we resumed our walk, she continued her maternal opinion of my tastes by saying, "you just can't enjoy a walk unless you try to eat or drink something gross, can you?".

Mom, I am a puppy and a boy. Gross comes with the package.

Sorry Charley

2004-08-14T09:38:00.000-05:00

My adopted parents kept talking about Charley and that he was on his way to our place. I wondered who this Charley was...and why they didn't seem too happy about his expected visit.

Then some friends came with a little boy named, Justin and a Beagle puppy named, Frisco. Still no Charley. Well, everybody was watching the TV and being so serious, so Frisco and I wrestled until we dropped! Actually, Frisco is the wimp, here. I was wanting to keep playing, but Frisco had to take a nap. Must be the super-kibble mommy fed me for breakfast.

So after we both re-charged our puppy powerpacks, we went at it again and again. Charley never did show up and everyone seemed very happy.

A note from my adopted parents: We are thankful to say Hurricane Charley missed the Tampa Bay area, however our prayers and support go out to all the families who experienced the ravages of this devastating storm.

Outsmarting Daddy

2004-08-10T18:17:00.000-05:00

OK. So I like to play with Frisbee. And I'm trying to get daddy to jump up and taunt me with Frisbee until I bark at him, then he THROWS it and I have to chase madly around to retrieve it for him. First of all, I don't know why he is always throwing the thing because he always seems so happy to get it back. (I suppose mommy had to get his Frisbee for him before me). Secondly, well, there is no second, but it did sound like I was building a case, didn't it? Whatever. So I just humor him and act all excited to run about and bring the thing back to him.

Well, as if my attempts at keeping my adopted daddy amused are not enough, he started to step ON Frisbee when I brought it back to him - just to watch me yank and pull with dramatic effort - even growling in low tones to emphasize my incredible resistance.

After surmising the situation, my puppy brain went in to fast forward and I knew what I had to do to free Frisbee. The next time he stepped on Frisbee, I gave him my little show of protest, then I stopped and decided to lightly bite daddy on his little toe. WOW! He instantly lifted his foot and I quickly grabbed my frisbee and took off for the dining room.

Ah. Never underestimate the resourcefulness of a Corgi-powerpup.

Guinness is in de house!

2004-08-08T13:37:00.000-05:00

ARF! I am Guinness, a Pembroke Welsh Corgi. Three months ago today, I adopted my set of parents who are so thankful I rescued them. I have large, triangular ears, short legs, a nub tail and big brown eyes. If you don't believe me, check me out at: www.guinnessthedog.com and see for yourself.

I was pondering life this morning as I chewed on my bacon bone and had an epiphany (whatever that is). That trip to Dr. Barrie's on Friday morning was not just to see Aunt Marylou...seems to me something's also gone missing. I may only be 5 months old, but I still notice that my bark is a bit higher pitched than before...wait a minute...surely not! No wonder mommy looked so guilty when she dropped me off - Ein warned me about this at puppy playtime a few weeks back.

Well, I still don't know what it all means, but I'm working on the "sad eyes look" as we speak...and there goes mommy to the treat jar...HA! Works every time.