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?