I'm really having trouble with my back and hips lately.

Tonight I struggled again to go up the stairs to bed.

The human and the vet are trying to make it feel better for me, but right now, man, it hurts.

I like to give welcome gifts when people come to the den. I wiggle around the house, searching for just the right gift to bestow upon them. It's a critical part of the welcome ritual for me.

Sometimes it's one of my stuffed animals, other times it's a shoe, boot, flip flop, slipper. Once I gave my dog walker one of my human's bras. Another time, I rooted out a fresh loaf of bread from the shopping bags and carried to to my human to welcome her home.

The other day, when Wayne, my dog walker arrived, I felt I wanted to give him something new and different instead of his usual welcome gift (my kong).

I looked around, and my gaze landed on a box sitting by the basement stairs, waiting to go down.

It was filled with things wrapped in newspaper. I chose one of the items, pulled it out of the box, removed it from its newspaper wrapping and delivered it to Wayne.

He seemed to like the cannister lid.

Who wouldn't?

My human appeared to be somewhat confused by the newspaper carelessly laying on the living room carpet and the lid sitting on the kitchen counter - but it didn't take her long to put two and two together.

She called me a "goof".

??

In the end, I decided to bite his head off.

Best way to kill a vampire.

Unfortunately for me, the human intervened and Edward survived, with only a slightly mangled ear.

Great.

So, if I look like some werewolf from a stupid vampire movie, according to that guy the other night, I thought to myself, what duties and responsibilities come with that?

Did some research and was happy to learn that as a werewolf, I am capable of killing vampires.

Who knew?

Convenient, since I am really, truly sick of listening to the human go on and on about some fictional sparkly vampire named Edward.

I located this plastic version of the Sparkly One, and decided to test my werewolf skills. Edward received a thorough sniffing, and I considered chewing off his right hand...

Lusting after ducks and cursing the leash

It's way too hot. Today, with the humidex it's 37C. The human and I are both getting bored because we can't hike or go for long walks, we're not sleeping all that well, and it's just a drag all round.

Tomorrow we head to Kincardine and, I hear, for some swims in cold Lake Huron. Thank god - although I'll be forcibly bathed after the swims, I think it will be worth it.

Meanwhile, I'll keep dreaming of fall.

The other day while the human and I were walking along a trail on the lakeshore, a couple came up from behind, and the man said to the woman:

"Hey, look, it's Jacob!"

I am now being referred to as characters from Twilight.

Not so sure how I feel about that - the whole thing is pretty silly; however, if I have to be referred to as someone from that drabble, I suppose I'm happy it was a vampire killing giant wolf.

My human, who is freakishly in love with a fictional vampire from the movie and who abandoned me not once, but twice, over the past four days to sit in a movie theatre and gaze at the sparkly undead guy, was thrilled by the Jacob comparison.

But was quick to point out that Jacob, is in fact, a rust coloured wolf.

I would be Sam.

The black pack leader.

I like that better. Pack leader of a group of giant vampire killing wolves?

Works for me.

Bring on the Twilight comparisons.

It'll add to the "Harry Potter dog!" calls I often get. Haven't figured out what that one means yet.