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.

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.

Thanksgiving Thugs... Part I

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

I 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.