Propaganda Alert

It has come to my attention that my human is spreading vile propaganda, and I must set the record straight.

I have evidence that she has told other humans that I am slightly "porky" and that, for the sake of my health, they should not bring me gifts of food.

Further, she has advised humans in our pack that I am not to receive too many treats.

Let me be clear.

This is nothing but rumour and propaganda, and should not be accepted as fact.

I am 79.4 pounds of solid, German shepherd muscle.

And I am in desperate need of meat. I need steak, chicken, pork, rabbit, venison and more.

I also require frequent treat infusions and roasted marrow bones.

Do not believe otherwise.

I have now seen the true evil of humans.

Chicken Tales

We've named her Britney.

The human and I agree that this chicken has a lot in common with Britney Spears.

Tacky, skimpy clothing. Too much makeup. No hair. Doesn't know when to zip it.

And, man, does this chicken like to party.

Yes, I believe we made a good choice in naming the chicken.

Falling asleep with this chicken is not easy. The minute you move and put any pressure on it, Brittney scares the hell out of you and wakes you up with the most obnoxious clucking sounds.

Impossible.

The chicken must be eliminated.

Merry Christmas!

We just got back from Kincardine - I got a rubber chicken wearing a bikini and a new rope toy and a bullie for Christmas! Piper is kind of slow - didn't even know what to do with his presents. Hello? You tear them open! I wonder if he'll ever figure it out?

I was really depressed for a couple of days. Just not myself. I admit it - I was sad. I missed Bristol. But now that we're home, I'm back to normal. We went for a short walk, and ran into Riley, which was awesome.

Now we're apparently waiting for grandma, grandpa and Piper to arrive. Lesli hid all of my stuffies so he wouldn't kill them. He kills my stuffies, I kill HIM (that's probably the other reason she hid them).

There's Something Strange Going On

We're in Kincardine for Christmas, and it took me awhile to settle. I know Lesli told me that Bristol was gone, but I suppose I really hadn't accepted it. I came into the house carefully, tail low, ears back, ready to assume the most submissive pose possible to avoid having my ass kicked. Piper came to the door to say hi, but no Bristol. I went into the house, walked around. No Bristol. I was a bit stressed about it. I started to pant. Lesli and I went upstairs for awhile, and she got me to smell a small cardboard box - I have no idea why. I didn't recognize any scent there. I spent about two hours panting and trying to figure it out. I think I get it now. She's gone. It's nice not having to worry about being submissive all the time, but I really miss her.

I was tortured yesterday. The human took me to Pet Connection, put me in a tub and then tortured me with water.

Yes, yes, yes, I know I like swimming, going into the lake and generally plopping down into any puddle or creek I find.

So it seems somewhat insane that a bath should cause such trauma.

Sorry, can't explain it for you. It just is.

I screamed for most of last night's bath. Tried to hang myself once by jumping out of the tub while the collar was still around my next and affixed to the wall. Lesli saved me. I was ready to end it all. I couldn't take any more. After the water torture, she brought out a hose and blew air all over me while I continued to stand in the tub.

It was ridiculous.

I continued to scream, but no one came to save me.

And now my nice smell is gone, once again replaced by some floral scent humans believe is attractive. I think it's hideous.

I think I'll go back to my nap. Before I do, I'd like to send a shout out to the nice person who left the Swiss Chalet chicken takeout hanging from the garbage can at the off leash dog park last night. It was so easy for me to pull it out of the can while Lesli walked ahead, and I got a few chicken bones in before she stopped me! She called the person a few choice names - I don't get it. Who cares if it can kill you if it tastes so damned good? Besides, I don't pay the vet bills.

Children Everywhere Would be Proud

They all dream of doing it, but rarely do.

I did it.

I managed to pick out my Christmas gift from among all the gifts under the tree this morning and, while the human was upstairs...I opened it.

When she came into the living room, she came upon a very happy me. With my gift between my paws, and the wrapping paper cast aside.

I was so busted.

She laughed and told me she loves me. What else could she do?

Damn, I'm cute.

Blizzard!

We had a HUGE blizzard on Sunday! It hit during the night on Saturday. When we went for our early morning migration Sunday, we had to turn back. At that point, there was a break in the snow and nature was delivering us a lovely combination of ice pellets and driving winds. The ice was hurting my eyes, so we went home and decided to go out again later. When we went for our second walk, it was crazy. Tons of snow, hard to see. I loved it! We found Riley and his human across the street and we all went for a walk together in the snow. By the time it ended late Sunday night, it was hard to walk in the backyard. It came up to my chest. Lesli shoveled out a path and a pee area for me, which made it easier.

Yesterday's walk at Bronte rocked. We broke trail for a lot of it. Cosmo and I played, romped, rolled, plowed our faces through the snow. You'd think I would be tired enough to be nice at the end of the walk when faced with an apparently egregious transgression by one of the dogs we'd been hanging out with. But screw that. Archie came too close to my car. I told him to back off, and he didn't . So I let him have it. He fought back, and it escalated until my human pulled me out of it by my prong collar. And broke her nail in the process (apparently this is considered a tragedy in human circles, especially since she just got her manicure on Saturday. Whatever.)

Diane shoved me into my car and I sat quietly. I had a feeling I was in some trouble. I was right. Got a stern talking to during the drive to get the post-walk coffee ("do YOU pay for the car? NO! Are YOU the alpha dog here? NO! Do I need YOU to defend MY car? NO!!!!), and there was a consultation with a trainer last night. So I guess I will wait and see what fresh hell awaits me next time I decide to defend the car territory.

I'm Leaking

It's rather embarrassing, but I have been waking up from naps with a puddle beneath me.

Maybe I ate too much snow yesterday and today. I guess it does melt. Perhaps a full bladder and a very sleepy dog = puddles while you sleep.

My human is washing the sofa cushion cover. She has reinforced the couch with a couple of towels and is making jokes about making me sleep on a shower curtain on the bed tonight.

Yeah, that's hilarious.

I suppose I should eat less snow on tomorrow's walk. Not very likely though.

How to Torture Your Human - Step by Step Guide

One of the best ways to make your human squirm, and thus earn yourself minutes of fun-filled entertainment, is to eat something completely gross, something you know they're going to freak out about.

Here is how it works.

Say, for example, you are on a walk with your human and you spot a hunk of black fur lying in the snow. Clearly a dead rodent of some sort - most likely a vole, but really, who the hell cares? It's a frozen dead rodent and you're on top of it.

Scoop it up in your mouth, and make sure the human sees it.

First they yell at you.

"Storm, DROP IT!!!".

Oh, yeah, uh, sure. I'll drop the tasty morsel I have just managed to secure.

When HELL freezes over.

"DROP ITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Hold your ground and keep your trap shut. Tightly. Because next comes the shaking.

"I - SAID - DROP - IT!!!!!"

At this point, the human will grab your jaw and head, pry your teeth open and shake your head like it's a goddamned salt shaker, hoping the yummy piece of flesh (or garbage, or poo - just add your favourite forbidden treat here) will drop out.

When it doesn't...heh heh...you've forced them to go in.

They'll make a big show of it, especially if you're not alone (today, for instance, I ate the vole in front of a fairly large pack of other dogs and humans).

"OH - MY - GOD" they'll exclaim, as they reluctantly but forcefully open up your craw and jam their fists inside, digging around to feel the offending object. It could still be on your tongue, or you may be close to swallowing it. Don't worry. They'll dig for it.

And they'll likely cry out as they dislodge it.

Today was a great example.

"EWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" she cried as the ball of frozen fur was sent flying from my mouth, and all the other humans started saying they wished they had something called antibacterial lotion for my human.

Then I got to watch as the other humans tried to keep their dogs from picking up my discarded prize.

Try it. You're guaranteed a show. You may even get to actually eat whatever you managed to pick up.

Good News - and Very Bad News

The good news is that I had a great time with Auntie Alypoo! Tuesday night, we went for a drive and ended up back at that place we were at when we drove away from my human. This time, as we drove closer, I saw her again! She was there! I started to bark and cry, she was out on a platform crying and people were laughing at us. When she got into the car, I smothered her with Boo kisses and then went back to sleep (I'd had a particularly crazy romp in the snow earlier that day and was very tired).

The bad news is something my human told me last night. My mentor, the dog who really was like my mom, is gone. Bristol died while Lesli was away. She was getting old - I've written about it here. But that doesn't prepare you for losing the dog who helped raise you, who was your best dog friend ever.

Bristol was incredible. When we first met, I was tiny, only seven weeks old. She took me into her den and took care of me. We went to the vet together when I was about eight weeks old, and she cried and fretted when the vet was examining me.

She taught me how to do an effective dishwasher pre-wash.

She taught me how to protect the house and bark at the door.

She taught me how to be brave.

She humped me. A lot.

She humped my head. She humped my ribs. We'd fall over while she humped me, and she would just keep going.

It was her way of reminding me that she was boss. Better than attacking me - which was her preferred method with other dogs!

She was a special combination of strength and sweetness.

My grandma adopted Bristol when she was young. She had been found foraging for food, and was a mess. Grandma took her in, and they had a very hard first year. Bristol was a real handful. She had been scarred by her experiences. But time and patience cemented the relationship, and grandma, Uncle Adam and Bristol became a close family. Then mom moved home from California, and she and Bristol became very close. My human loves her beyond words. That's why she got a German shepherd. Cali made her want a dog...Bristol made her come looking for me.

When Adam moved out and grandma married Grandpa Brian, Bristol got to move to a great place. She went to Kincardine, and had a huge yard she could run in, patrol and chase squirrels and chipmunks and rabbits in. It was perfect for her. I would say the second half of her life was pretty much as good as it gets. She deserved that. I remember early one summer, my human and I stayed with Bristol while her humans were in Chicago. We had a perfect week. We'd spend time outside, then come in for a pack nap. Then go back outside. We played. We cuddled. And, I'm going to admit, we all slept together in the guest bed. A human and two German shepherds. Bristol was the first one up on the bed, too. She loved it.

Grandma and Grandpa Brian were with Bristol when she died. My human told me last night how much she admires grandma for that. She has had to make this painful decision before with pets she loved, and found it was too hard to be there with them while they drew their last breaths. But she was with Bristol. She found the strength, likely drawing it from intense love and loyalty she felt for Bristol, and held her until her very last moments. I am glad that's how she left. She deserved that. She was loyal, loving and steadfast.

I will miss her. My friend, my brave and sweet and loving friend.