Working Girl

Family Day.

A day when Ontarians don't have to go into the office, and instead, are encouraged to spend quality time with their loved ones.

A day which federal employees do not have off...but their dog walkers do.

A day which German shepherds would prefer to enjoy their usual weekday routine instead of being stuffed into the car at 7:00 am and driven into downtown Toronto.

Upon arrival, I was ushered into a very small room. The human pressed a button on the wall - and the goddamned room started moving. I stared hard at the floor and tried to figure out what the hell was happening, but before I could, it was over.

We arrived at the human's office. I summarily examined the garbage cans in each office and found them, frankly, lacking.

I've rolled my treaty ball around a bit.

Been for a walk downtown, where I discovered I do not like sewer grates or streetcar tracks. Homeless people sleeping on the sidewalks are ok, though.

After lunch, I'm going to get to work developing some proposals for the next federal budget. Leaning toward allowing Canadians to choose whether they receive their annual income tax refunds in cash or an equal dollar value in dog biscuits.

It's good, yes?

After the snowy deer chase

Thwarted

6am.

Dark.

Cold.

The human and I set off for our morning constitutional.

Strolling along when, suddenly, I smell something delicious.

I follow the enticing scent to the base of a coniferous tree.

I lean in, trying not to be obvious.

And then I continued along my way.

It wasn't for another five minutes or so that the human glanced down at me lovingly, and noticed grass sticking out of my mouth. Apparently, she also noticed how my jaw was set. Slightly open. Like, slightly holding something big that I had yet to consume.

It began.

'Storm, drop it!'

I looked up at her like she was insane...drop what?

'Storm, drop it now!'

Forget it.

Next phase began.

The human leaned over, pried my jaws open and began shaking my head up and down until the delicous piece of frozen leftover pizza fell to the ground.

I licked my lips to gather any traces of the pizza I could and continued on my way.

Me and my Doodle

I snored A LOT last night.

Flatbed

I rode in the back of a flatbed truck for the first time on Sunday.

We were hiking at Bronte. Cosie came along and we shortened the walk because she has trouble walking very far now. I guess the humans miscalculated though because after awhile, she started to walk like she'd been into the rum that morning. She couldn't walk straight. Her back legs started to give out, and she started to fall.

Diane tried to hoist her onto my human's shoulders so she could carry her back to the car, but Cosie spazzed out and it didn't work.

My human passed my leash to Diane, and she took off running. Frankly, I didn't like that one bit. I couldn't figure out where the hell she was going without ME.

After a few minutes, she was coming back.

Freaking awesome! I pulled at the leash, trying to run to her. We had been parted for MINUTES! Oh, such a happy reunion.

Then Richard, the farmer we always chat with at the park, drove up with his big truck.

They loaded Cosie into the flatbed first, then Diane got up there.

I admit to being somewhat confused.

They seemed to be trying to convince me to place my front paws on the flatbed gate.

Um, huh?

I resisted.

Until Diane offered me a treat.

FRONT PAWS: UP

They hoisted my back end up and in, and my human followed.

Intrigued, I sniffed the air with focus.

The truck started to move, and we had a glorious trip through Bronte park. So many smells! It was great.

Richard dropped us at our cars, Cosie and I were lifted down to the ground, and after a bit of conversation and a few treasts, we were homeward bound.

What do you mean, I cannot catch the turkey vulture?