Diva Dog

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

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!

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

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?

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

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!

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!

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?

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!

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

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!

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?

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

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?

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

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

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

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

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?

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?