Stupid Dogs

Just like with humans, there are smart dogs, there are stupid dogs, and there are dogs that fall somewhere in between.

Being third on the official "smartest breed" lists, I like to think I am one of the more intelligent dogs out there (I remind you, eating toilet paper from the roll on the wall is a sign of intelligence).

The Westie we met on our morning walk today is clearly working at the other end of the spectrum.

Nice enough, I expect.

But clearly a few curds short of a poutine.

So, we're walking along, and my human spots the Westie. Knowing there was a good chance I would have myself a little barkfest over it, she put me into a sit and distracted me with treats. It was going well. I didn't give a flying you-know-what about the dog - she was feeding me.

But the little white moron had to go and be a big man.

Oh ya. I'm stuffing my face, and I hear a pathethic sound. Mr. Tough Guy would tell you it was a bark.

The Westie was actually giving me attitude - all I was doing was sitting there, and he gives me attitude?

I'm an 80 pound solid black German shepherd!

So I thought, ok, buddy. You want it - you got it.

If I hadn't been on a leash, that appetizer would not have known what hit him.

Humans

I have to be honest. They confuse the hell out of me.

I've been following mine around a lot today, suddenly curious and trying to figure her out.

How, for example, does she assess other humans' health and social status without sniffing their bums?

Why doesn't she get that I do, in fact, think that the more I bark en route to the off leash park, the faster we'll get there?

Why, oh why, does she wrap her arms around me and squish me? Is that supposed to make me happy?

What is her issue with the consumption of goose poo, rabbit poo, cow manure, horse poo and other assorted poo flavours?

Why doesn't she like it when I roll in smelly things and successfully mask our scent? I'm just trying to serve our pack.

Why won't she let me hunt and kill the annoying little dogs in our neighbourhood? They'd provide a steady food supply, and it would be fun.

Why does she draw my attention to bunnies on our morning walk - but stop me from catching them?

Does she really think I like it when she makes up and sings annoyng "Boo" songs to me?

There are so many things I just don't get. I wish there were some good books out there - how to speak to your human, understanding human behaviour. Would sure help.

We met Diane and Cosmo at the park today, and Bentley wasn't with them. But two other dogs were - they're both pretty cool. One of them only cares about chasing his ball. Nothing else matters. I saw Archie for the first time since our fight today. We did alright. No rematch.

The Vet

I just got back from another trip to the vet. We haven't slept for three nights now because my stomach is still really upset. It sucks big time. I had to go out so many times last night. And this morning. And I had to go a lot while we were at Bronte too. The doctor gave me some special - and, might I add, delicious - food, pills and some kind of pasty stuff. Lesli and I both hope it works quickly.

So, get this - Bentley and a really pretty retriever named Charley totally hit it off today at Bronte. The humans stood around and watched them for a long time - they all thought it was "cute". Whatever - I went hunting. Bentley kept humping Charley. And she loved him! She nuzzled him, played with him. It was definitely a clear-cut case of dog love.

Uh, sorry grandma...

I snuck into the guest bedroom while Lesli wasn't looking, and, well, the evidence speaks for itself. But don't worry, grandma.

Everything is headed for the laundry.

My tummy is upset tonight. I snacked on a few things during our hike at Bronte today, and it's coming back to haunt me. Dear God, why do I do this?

We've had a nice weekend. Plenty of fresh air, long walks and puddle romps. I even cuddled with the human yesterday - curled up with her on our super comfy couch, and rested my head on her leg (I'm a killer, not a cuddler. This is a rare event). She told her friend her legs fell asleep and started to really hurt while I was there, but she had absolutely no intention of moving and missing even a second of the rare event.

Auntie Diane and Cosmo brought a new dog with them to Bronte for part of this week. His name is Bentley and he's a bulldog. I don't recall ever seeing a bulldog - when he first got out of her van, I was perplexed. I approached cautiously, gave him a good sniff. Determined that he was, in fact, a canine. Strangest looking one I've ever seen though. I accepted him into our pack.

Puddles

What a beautiful word.

Puddle.

Defined by humans as "a small accumulation of liquid, usually water, uncontained on a surface. A puddle is generally considered to be small enough to step over or shallow enough to walk through..."

Defined by Storm as "a small accumulation of water, sometimes clear, sometimes muddy. Generally considered to be perfect for jumping in, lying in, biting, spinning around in, splashing in and having a joyfully good romp in."

We're having a warm spell here so all the snow we had is melting - fast.

Bronte is a sea of glorious puddles.

Muddy parking lot puddles.

Clear snow puddles along the paths.

Huge field puddles - perfect for taking a running dive at and then spinning around in.

And spontaneous creeks to run and roll around in.

Puddles make me happy. I love to bite at them. I love smashing my face - and my belly - into them.

It's so warm, I bet there will be even more puddles tomorrow.

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.