Thursday, December 31, 2009

Singing at The Dog...

The Brit pop-star La Roux's 80's style video hit Bullet-proof was playing on our big screen TV the other day. I noticed that The Dog... suddenly... had a new swagger to his hind regions. So, putting 2 + 2 together, I started singing the song's reprise to him...

This time, Baby... I'll beeeee... bullet-----proof!
Naturally, The Dog just thinks I am singing the praises of his favourite topic... Treats! He licks me profusely & ardently on every last sung bullet-roof. It must rhyme with the word bread somehow.
We try to have fun here.
But, if I am going to continue with these shenanigans, I must have a new hair-style. One with a distinct & asymmetrical up-sweep to it. A whig would be necessary. Gads.

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

He won't hold still...




... for the darn camera until I am obligated to say the Magic Phrase...
It's a Treat, Moses!
Gads.

Monday, December 28, 2009

Christmas Salivating Satisfactions...

Work on your bone, Moses! Work on that bone!

The Dog looks positively delirious from chewing on his Special Christmas Bone.
What do those dog-chow folk put in the bones to make them so irresistible?
Cats get nip, so Dogs get cheese & garlic enriched muscle fibers twisted to look like the femur of a Colorado calf?
I don't want to know. And, The Dog doesn't share... Thank God!!!
All I want is for My Adored Dog to be happy without being laid low by a bout of diarrhea. Gads.

Saturday, December 26, 2009

Dog satisfaction at Christmas Time...

Work on your bone, Moses!

The Dog looks drugged from chewing on his Christmas Special Bone. What do they put in the bones to make them so irresistible? Cats get nip. Dogs probably get garlic flavored muscle fibers. I don't know. Moses doesn't share which is fine by me. I would not care to try, even if they were made with natural peanut-butter! Gads.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

The Dog is bezerk...

... and on Christmas Eve, no less. Why so? Well, because it has been raining for a over a week now... with intermittent snow, freezing rains & Siberian winds too...
and The Dog don't go out in dat stuff!!! Gads.

Saturday, December 19, 2009

Categorically refuses...


The Dog categorically refuses to go out into the snow. There are Weimaraner skid marks in the snow outside my apartment building's front door. I hope no-one notices. It could prove embarrassing. Gads.

Thursday, December 17, 2009

A Special Citation...

This is my brother's dog, Rufus. He is a one-eyed dog. And, he is the gentlest of God's Canine Creatures. Nothing more to say.

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Thanksgiving Thugs... Part II


The real & absolute thugs of Thanksgiving has to be my veterinarian sister's two creatures.
The white one... named Neem...I doubt it is a Shih-tzu. It could be a really nasty Lohpso-ohpso mix. They're mean AND stupid at the same time... BITES!!! No. Sorry. It LUNGES AND BITES!!!... from within the range of only a yard.
Mauser... the ugly brown thing that snorts and faintly resembles the Creature from the Black Lagoon... far exceeds Wick's bio-disasters by peeing AND pooping relentlessly upon my mother's prized Oriental carpets... naturally, there is one in every room... or, wherever & whenever inspiration hits. True to its thug nature, Mauser does so exclusively inside. The outdoors is just the outdoors to this animal and not the toilette it is to any other d-o-g.
Thankfully... Thanksgiving came & went and, so did many of The Cousins too. I have never been so glad to see My Dog than when I returned home... safely buffered by lots of water. Gads.





















Monday, December 14, 2009

Thanksgiving Thugs... Part I

My Dog is a paragon of Christian Virtue, Superb Breeding & a Disciplined Education.

cannot say this about The Dog's distant & American relations... The Cousins, if you will... during my recent Thanksgiving visit. In fact, I can well say... they are all various degrees of delinquents, except one, who gets A Special Citation. But, that is for later.
Let's take my mother's two Shih-tzus... a canine sub-species, if there ever was one.
Ms. Wicks is nearly blind, probably deaf, certainly incontinent and she definitely poops in the Sun Room when Mom & I trot off to the movies. It might help if Mom would desist in referring to the Sun Room as The Slammer. I suppose there is some consolation... Wicks deigns to evacuate her bowels always in the same locale... under the dining table next to the computer. And, since she is My Mother's Dog, there are sanctions against Complaints. Mum's the word... dammit.

Thug Number Two is called Toby. His distinct fault is... he never comes when you call him.  Never. He's not interested. Toby likes to canvas any moving object... man or machine... for Friendship & Fun. However, I did not pay several thousand Dollars to come to America for Thanksgiving only to see My Mother's adored yet recalcitrant Shih-tzu squished by an oncoming Mercedes-Benz SUV... thank you very much. I'll stop there. Why dither? There are those darn sanctions.

Too be continued...

Ooooo!

Oh! And while I was at the preferred dog emporium, I bought a new bright green nylon collar & leash twin set.

The Dog was totally not-interested in this or, even with the new water bowl I had purchased for upstairs. Moses! It will save you an arduous trip downstairs to get a sip of water... which is filtered for your own protection... thank you very much. Not even the Short-person gets such special treatment, I'll have you know, Mr.!!! Gads.

New cold-weather rain slicker...

The Dog Sitter forgot to give me back The Dog's spiffy lined rain-slicker when I came to retrieve him after my return from Thanksgiving in America.
Coincidentally, the thermometer dropped into negative numbers and The Dog had no wrap. So, off I went to my favorite pet-shop to procure him another. And, what did I find? An even spiffier lined cold-weather wrap. It has velcro straps and only one tiny insidious elastic ribbon for The Dog's tail.

The architecture of this outfit is depended upon getting that ribbon onto The Dog's tail.  He automatically retracts his surgically-shortened Weimaraner tail, making it damn hard for me to get this vital element on him correctly. Co-operation is not one of The Dog's many Virtues.

Anyway, once the ribbon is secured on, it's a piece of bread... with the nifty velcro straps, both front & mid-trunk.
I adore the shush-shush-shushing noise of the washable nylon & synthetic cold-weather pile lining. THE DOG HATES IT!!! He tries to hide as a wall.

So be it. He can't seem to appreciate all the trouble I've gone to in order to protect him from freezing his Weimaraner balls off... if he still had them.
Now, if only Mankind would invent ear cuffs for dogs, the outfit would be complete!!! Gads.

The aftermath...

More action photos of The Dog and my generous offer to share the spoils of my breakfast...



Naturally, The Dog lobbied for another piece of bread. Gads.

Resolute in his desires...

Oh! Some action shots of The Dog when I came out of the Kitchen munching on a piece of toast. He was very insistent that I share.

The Dog loves his bread.
A couple of days ago, a girl-friend & I conducted an experiment with The Dog & bread. It was administered under very strict conditions... we were in her Kitchen and The Dog was way down the hallway on his bed in the Guest Bedroom. When all was quiet, we put out a loaf of fresh bread on a nice big wooden platter between us. WITHIN SECONDS!!! The Dog was sitting by my side awaiting A Treat of some b-r-e-a-d.

When The Dog gets excited about A Treat... and, especially, when bread is involved... he has to itch himself. Or, he sniffs his Private Parts. I chose not to include a photo of that.

But then... lo' & behold... The Dog's back into position for what he feels is His Rightful Due. Gads.