Sunday, November 30, 2008
I spent a couple of weeks in the kennel while Homie went traveling. We missed each other a lot. I was mindlessly barking along with the others at the kennel when suddenly I heard her voice saying: waar ben je? (code language). I was silent in an instant and just stared dumbfounded. Who would have thought that she would ever return?
I then jumped so high to get out of the kennel, Homie could actually see my head above the 6 ft fence. I could look over but not jump over. Homie was worred because she thought I might hurt myself.
I had been so miserable, and Homie could see that, but after a cuddle and a long run, I was back to my old self. It was better than a marinated raw-hide chew to curl up next to Homie again.
Now I will get to travel with Homie. We are going on a business trip soon. When she looks at me Homie shakes her head and says: 'I am crazy' (she also speaks non-code language quite well). I guess she means 'crazy in love' because that what it looks like to me.
Last night I was a little worried I might have messed up and have to stay home. I had taken the sheets and comforter off the bed and piled them in a heap in the corner of the room. Oh Homie didn't like that at all. She wagged her finger and said I was bad, bad, bad. Tell ya I was really concerned. Uh oh, I shouldn't have done that, I thought but I always think of the right thing to do a little too late.
Friday, July 11, 2008
I have an ouwie. I am sure that you will want to know. I was romping around the usual way in my heap of interesting objects that I keep on the deck and before I knew it I felt a pang of pain and saw my nail hanging in some strawberry netting. It hurt (not the nail but my ouwie) but I didn't make a big issue out of it at all.
My nail was interesting and I could see Homie looking at me curiously, the way she does when I do something she doesn't understand. Then she heard me crack it between my teeth and she jumped up. She just didn't understand what it was that I had in my mouth and of course, I kept my mouth shut really tightly because I wasn't going to share this yummy treat with Homie.
Then later she saw me licking my dewclaw and I could see a light bulb go on above her head.
You see, the breeder removed my front dewclaws but not those on my back legs and the groomer always leaves them a little long. Sorta cool looking seeing Homie won't let me have a tattoo or pierce my ears.
Naturally we now have a little machine that Homie has let me lick and sniff for a couple of days. It whirrs, which is a little scary. Yesterday Homie filed down my nails with it. I think this is going to be a weekly procedure so good job I like the attention I get and it doesn't hurt me at all.
My dewclaw is growing again but still looks like a funny little stump. Knowing Homie I think I can put long nails as part of my look out of my head from now on.
Since I haven't heard from Max, Homie said that maybe I should kiss a frog. This morning, waddaya know, there was a frog swimming laps in the pool. Cool as a cucumber. I can hardly imagine that Homie was serious when she said I should kiss something that small, besides he was icky looking. She is telling me fairy tales again. At first I thought well maybe I should just gobble him up. He looked as tasty as a lizard which is nothing like something as good as chicken, but I like to play with my food and lizards give you a fun hard time, but, boy, frogs give you the hardest time. They just swim under water, back and forth, with their long legs and there is no way for me to catch one because I like to keep my ears dry.
I wonder what would happen if I kissed a frog? Homie just leaves me hanging without an answer. Now I am going to have to find out for myself. I am going to practice kissing from now on. Everyone I meet, I will jump up and give them a couple of kisses on the lips.
Up till now no one has seemed to like it. They all turn their face away and make a fuss. NO jumping, NO licking, so NO kisses either, I guess.
No wonder I am confused at times.
Update: The next day I saw my frog in the pool again again and delicately between two teeth, I saved him from drowning. He hopped around for a while and I kissed him. Without any warning he suddenly expired, I think out of pure excitement. Buried him under the bush and am still confused.
Friday, June 27, 2008
This is my favorite little pillow and when I was a puppy I would rush into the house and first thing I would do was grab this goodie from the chair. I guess it's Homie's favorite too because for the longest time it was gone. Probably stashed in a secret place.
I have a secret place like that too on the deck. Everything I find that I like and don't need to bury, I have in a big heap so that I can find it again easily when I want it. I sometimes forget about the heap too so it's a big surprise when I discover it again.
Homie left for a little while yesterday and I got so bored. I sniffed around in all the rooms but found nothing much of interest until I sniffed my pillow. It was sitting there all alone in the chair again and I could see that it wanted to play. Can't ignore a plea like that, can I? When I heard Homie's car I waited for her at the door and brought Pillow along to say hello. I don't think she was pleased with me or Pillow. No 'big hello'. Just a look that would freeze a blazing fire as she walked past me with the shopping bags.
Can't imagine why.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
The moment I saw him, I knew it. This is the man for me. I have such an enormous crush on Max that I feel all giddy. Not that I have met him yet, but the moment I saw his picture, my heart melted. What a guy! Like all girls I want a man of substance and character and he looks like he has all that and a bit more.
Oh wait, maybe that's not what all Weimie girls want, but I do. Isn't he just poopie doopie? I don't think Homie approves though, but I don't care. She says that she has heard that he is quite grumpy. But Maxie doesn't look at all grumpy to me. Well maybe just a bit, but that because his homie took him camping and Maxie wasn't a happy camper. Maybe he is not quite as outdoorsy as I am. Anyway I am in love, and no one is going to rain on my parade. Not even Max.
Maybe we can invite him over for Scratch Soup. He would love that. I only hope Homie doesn't try one of her experiments like last time. She was fooling around with beets, and the soup came out PINK! Homie says it's borscht, but I think, 'Yeah, yeah, give it a name and suddenly it isn't a crazy experiment anymore?' Well, I am very glad I didn't have to eat it. I will eat bugs, and slugs and pigeon poop but I will not eat pink soup. For some reason I don't Max would be in for anything pink.
Hmmm, do you suppose he's fixed?
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Do you suppose Homie knows magic? Every day when we go out to play ball in the evening, the minute she throws a ball, water starts spouting out of the ground. I think it’s pretty amazing.
I am beginning to think that we live in a frying pan. It sizzles all day. When you go outside you can lean against the heat, that’s how thick it is. Heat or no heat, we had to go to Fly ball. I tried to explain that I really wouldn’t mind if we stayed in and slept a little more. Five in the morning on Sunday is just not my thing. Homie pulled an innocent little face and tricked me from out under the table by going outside and saying in her sweetest voice, ‘Hello Daisy. Daisy, Daisy, Daisy’. Well, of course I had to go and see what was going on because I haven’t seen Daisy Doll for ages.
You have to watch that homie of mine. She is full of tricks. She calls me a little stinker sometimes, but she is no different herself. Off we went to Fly ball, which was fun. I am purrrrttty good at it, even if I say so myself. I was zipping along nicely, showing off a little, when they started walking a dog really close to me. Well, I mean, who would not be distracted and want to play? I was totally out of it and had to regain focus. Did a few breathing exercises with my eyes closed and a couple of Om's under my breath. Blue-Eyes was back!
After the game, Homie needs to go shopping! Over 100 degrees and the woman suddenly needs all kinds of stuff. Well only paint really and she did take me with her to the store but I wasn’t allowed in but I think they would have let me if I hadn’t barked at the lady who butted into our conversation. Homie gave me a sad little look and tied me to a wire container outside filled with Tiki torches. She was in and out of that store like a shot. I think she could read my mind. The wire container had wheels. How fun would it be to run down the parking lot with the Tiki torches? Only it took me too long to figure out how to light them, so I was still sitting there thinking when she came out again.
Sunday, June 15, 2008
All I was doing was checking out what was on the kitchen counter top. I didn't intend to take anything. It was lunch time and the doorbell rang so Homie went to the door. Sniffle, sniffle, sniffle and just as I was about to have a last little sniffle and go to the door to see if there was someone I could jump up on, 9 grain bread. How could I resist?
I sometimes get a slice of bread but never a slice as big as was sitting there right before my nose. It was fresh and warm and the smell danced circles around my nostrils.
You bet I was told off. In no uncertain terms in fact. I guess I, well, stole Homie's lunch. But the rule of the house is, if it's been in MY mouth it's mine to keep. Not a bad rule in my mind and I didn't even make it.
My only problem is, when do I get lucky enough to steal the bread, and butter and cheese all at the same time so that I can have a real feast?
Man, I am knackered. Out the door by 7 a.m. and that on a Sunday. When I saw Homie packing the basket I thought, "Oh nooo, not an early outing? What is up with her? It's going to be 114 degrees today!" and I moved deftly under the coffee table. Try get me out from under here, if you can and I watched her in a rather detached way, that I have been practicing. I can even close one eye and still watch her through the slit of the other eye. Believe me, sometimes you have to watch Homie. At first sight you wouldn't consider her all too smart but that look can be deceiving. I mean I have never seen her do anything super smart like retrieve a ball or dig up a gopher but sometimes she surprises me.
Oh before I go on, did I tell you she tried to strangle me? Asphyxiation by window. I was shocked. I was having a nice look at traffic, happy as can be, and suddenly I hear her say, 'closing the windows' and buzzes them right up, then and there with my head still out the window. What does she think? That I know what 'closing the windows' means? Well, now I do but I had to learn the hard way.
Under the table, I had to fight off the desire to give in when Homie held a great big piece of Gouda in front of my nose. Normally she isn't very generous with that Gouda but this piece was humongous. Had to give in. But glad I did because I went to Flyball and then a Doggy Pool Party. Made a lot of new friends too, both human and doggy. I think I am really going to like going to Flyball because I like running and catching balls. Such a delicious combination, don't you think?
Hey is that Homie taking a nap? Homie, let's go for a run?!
Did she just peer at me with one eye closed and through a slit of the other? Man, that girl learns fast. Let's see if I can lay my paws on a good chunk of Gouda.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
Homie says that I am getting too smart for my own good. It's all that reading I do. It is beginning to dawn on me that there is more to this all than meets the doggy eye. Excuse me while I get my assessment sheet.
- I sit when asked. Okay, not always but I don't see it written anywhere that my butt is supposed to slap the floor the second I am asked. I am not obedient in that way. There is no military precision in my obedience. Ask me; do the little finger thing and I will get round to it in my own good time.
- I do sit at the door and the gate while waiting for Homie to open them except when exceptionally excited because of interesting people or dogs on the other side. Otherwise, I always let her walk through first.
- I do not beg. That has just never occurred to me. Homie can eat her dinner or even a very delicious snack in peace and I will not go over to her and ask for some. If she gives me a dog biscuit or something better, I sit and take it from her carefully.
- I have a lot of trouble with the 'no licky licky' thing. How in heaven's name am I supposed to express my love if I am not allowed to give a nice big lick? But I am getting this too. There are times for cuddles and times when its 'no licky licky'. So be it, I will try to remember when it's time for love but it sure plays havoc with your spontaneity.
- No pulling at the leash. Alright, so then why always let me run free? I hate the leash but I think we do okay with the harness. At least for appearance sake it looks like I am walking next to Homie like a well behaved dog.
- Come when called. I refer back to the military precision. I come as soon as I can. If something needs to be sniffed a few seconds more, then it will be sniffed for a few seconds more but I do come when called. I just like testing my boundaries. I watch Homie from over my shoulder to see how important it is that I return immediately and not once have I seen any enormous urgency.
- Socialization. I am well socialized. I can tell because I hear people say that Athena is such a sweet dog. They wouldn't say that if I wasn't, would they? I am good with puppies and very careful. I don't nip or bite anyone. I sometimes jump like a ping pong ball but that is when I forget my manners in my enthusiasm and to Homie's distress I like grabbing ladies wrists, including hers. It doesn't hurt them a bit but I guess I will have to work on this.
- I haven't eaten a bed in a long time although I did take a teeny tiny nibble of a pillow that looked particularly delectable. When Homie came into the room I sat on it, hoping she wouldn't notice but there were little flocks of filling here and there in the room. She isn't a real eagle-eye but she couldn't miss those white fluffs and there wasn't enough time to eat them. Anyway, she would have known about it when they came out the other end.
- If anyone doubts that I am smart then they should see me when a ball rolls under the sofa on the back porch. Only once did Home ask me to settle down first before she got it. Now I immediately settle into my Anubis pose and must say it looks rather nice. I also use it when I want something in particular. It works like this: you take the Anubis pose and look intently at the treats jar. It melts her heart every time.
- Homie can take away my chew bone and even my food. I know it's coming right back anyway. I may not be the most obedient dog but I am gentle and that's good enough for my homie. She knows that given time I will understand even more than I do already.
Finally finished my book. This time I didn't eat it, but actually read it. Homie has told me that by eating a book the contents end up in your stomach not in your brain, so I made a change. Talking about things ending in your stomach. I eat grass and sometimes, really annoyingly it doesn't make it all the way out. You know what I mean. I am not going to explain it any further. Nasty business because I can't sit at all then. When Homie sees this, she gets a paper towel and man, does it feel great when she removes it. I once ate part of dishcloth but I wouldn't let Homie help me. I must have looked ridiculous with that blue piece of fabric dangling out of my rear end. Now I know that Homie is pretty handy to have around.
Of course I know that dogs have no sense of self according to humans, but I claim that this is wrong. When I first met Maddie, I thought I was looking in the mirror. That was me with a new collar! But after some contemplation I came to the conclusion that Maddie was just another Weimie. We look very alike but there are also differences however these escaped Homie. She would think that Maddie was me. Silly Homie. Where would she be if I wasn't there to think for her?
I now have a different perspective of myself. I am not such a tomboy as I thought I was. Maddie just plunges into the pool, but I need time. Maybe I am a sissy but that water is cold and the part that was warm bubbled dangerously. No way am I taking a risk. I spent my time with the balls and there were so many. I wait until they float my way, and then I pretend I am a giraffe and splay my front legs and scoop them up without getting wet at all. Then I like to organize them in such a way that are all together (not quite color coordinated but I think I can do that too, given time). Homie is a spoilsport because she just messes it all up and throws them back in the pool and then I have to start all over again. I guess she thinks I like fussing with those balls. Well, to be truthful I do. I love balls especially when they are being thrown for me. I love to run after a ball. You can wake me for a game of ball anytime.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Oh man, I just know what is going on and I am not happy about it. For months now I had my homie all to myself, just the way I like it. We get up and we take a little stroll, then she serves me breakfast after which I can go back to bed, because she starts doing boring stuff behind the computer and on the telephone (I believe that's what they are called). Sometimes when I think she needs a little company I go and lie down near her, but not before I give her a nice wet nuzzle.
I like it best of all when Homie fusses around the house. For some reason she likes moving objects from room to room or even just from one side of a room to the other. She does this all the time. Always busy. She calls it 'tidying up', but I'm not sure what that means. I just lie there and am so very amused. She pours a little water on the plants that she has put in pots indoors. Unbelievable, that is so peculiar. Can't even dig a hole in a itty bitty pot like that. She does wacky things but I let her. Whatever makes her happy and I know when she is happy because then she whistles!
My favorite time of the day is when she opens the fridge. Wooooopeeeeee, then she does her magic and the house starts smelling like dog heaven. Just for the record, dog heaven does not smell of day old dead gophers like many humans think, but like a really good soup made from scratch. I can smell each individual ingredient that goes into that pot. Beef for the bouillion, onion and garlic (but those last two get scooped out later. Try to understand that?). Then carrots and leeks, and meat balls that smell of pepper, salt and curry and then lastly, vermicelli. Those are little wormy things. In my portion, Homie adds brown rice. Lipping licking good. I know I didn't say that quite right. Hey, my human age is 11 so give me a break when I don't get everything right.
Anyway, I always think that drooling looks a little dumb, but I can't help myself when Homie makes soup.
Now I have made myself all happy when I really am sad. It's suitcase time. There has been more fussing around the house than usual and I see the packed bags in the guest room. Sometimes my sighs come from way, way down inside me. I try to hold them in but they escape me when I see those suitcases. I look at Homie and wish she would just take me along so that she doesn't get lonely without me. I wonder if Homie feels the same. I somehow I think she does because I always get more attention during suitcase time and soup made from scratch.
Monday, May 5, 2008
Hmmmm....I have been watching Homie more closely lately and there is something peculiar about what she does. Every month she buys an enormous bag of kibbles for me. She huffs and puffs as she pours the contents into a large container. Then every morning and every evening she gives me some. Shortly after I eat I have to ......well......you know what I mean. First of all I have absolutely no privacy. Homie sometimes watches me and even takes a little peek at the results. Then she carefully scoops it up and carries it all the way across the garden to a small container and stores it there. Even if I do my business on the far side of the golf course, she grabs a baggy and quickly does a collection, looking around her to see if no one else is around. Worried probably that someone gets to it first.
I always thought that Homie had wanted me for companionship and love but I am slowly beginning to realize that there is a big secret reason that we have never talked about. The stuff that I deposit twice a day is a precious substance that has a value. I am just a working dog. That's what I am. Why else would Homie work so hard at getting a good production? I am heartbroken, really I am. I thought it was love and now I discover it's all about economics. I am determined not to produce anything at all tomorrow. See how she likes that!
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Sunday, April 20, 2008
I have a little history with beds. They never last long. Flimsy is all I can say. Sink your teeth into them ever so slightly and out pops the stuffing. I try to explain to Homie that I wasn't even trying but her face tells me 'Not happy'. I have a denim one with my name embroidered on it that should have been sent to the trash can, but no, not in this house. Homie brought out a machine that whirrs in a very annoying way and she stuck all the parts of the bed together again, even the parts that went missing because I ate them. Truly amazing, wouldn't you say? You know that was the last time I ate a bed. Since then I have grown up. Still, I like to think that I am smart, but what that green thing is, I have no idea.
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Jumping Jelly Beans! What a piggy! Don't you just hate looking at old pictures from your baby days? I am shocked, simply and totally in a state of shock. I thought I have always been cute and now Homie whipped this picture out of the box. I just hope no one sees it. Here I am thinking that I am pretty....well, pretty pretty. They always say that I am a beautiful dog, but I sure wasn't a beautiful baby after that lunch. Excuse me, while I go away and try forget this experience. I think I need a chew to distract me or maybe something stronger, like a 12" rawhide roll. Eeeeeeuuwww.
Friday, April 18, 2008
I feel purrtttty low. We went to the vet for my Heartguard and before I knew it, I heard Homie talking about a rash and bumps on my back. Allergies! Seems like everyone has them and instead of being different I am just the same. The rash started in my ummm, let's call them my inner thighs. I don't think the word 'armpit' applies to a weimie. So now I am on Benadryl. 1 mg per pound of dog and I am 57 lbs and I am stoned. Totally out of it. Homie had to do everything by herself the last couple of days. All I could do was raise my eyelids ever so slightly, and tell her, 'you can do it girl, I will help you again in a couple of days'. I am back to the basics where the chow is concerned, no more exotic treats and I think my organic chicken strips will go to my friend, Daisy. Awww man. Come 5 p.m. though I am suddenly ready for my game of ball and a good run outside. Even a whole pack of Benadryl could not change that.
After a while she stepped back into the kitchen and I could tell by the puzzled look on her face that she was thinking, 'didn't I just put out butter when I put out the eggs?'
I calmly took on a relaxed pose on my bed and looked as innocent as I could (which is very).
The butter mystery was discussed with Carolina, who comes to help clean the house. Homie and Carolina searched high and low because they couldn't believe that I had eaten it, paper and all.
If only that darn loud burp hadn't given me away.
I am a girl even though most humans think I am a boy. That's because most humans are used to small, cute, woolly, fluffy dogs and anything more streamlined, muscular and on longer legs is a boy.
A boy I am not. I will admit to Tomboy maybe, but still fussy about what I wear.
This is a bib right? Would you wear it?