Shepherds are mouthy

Yeah, yeah, I know it's been a long time since I've had access to a keyboard, but it's not like I had a lot of choice here. The beagle, well, he likes to dig. And he kept trying to escape (which like I said before is just kinda silly if he's gonna come right back, I mean, really, what's the point?) and he dug up Fort Stewie. A LOT. Huge holes all over the place, and he ate a tree. Yes, a TREE! Oh, sure, it was a little tree, but a tree none the less. And that love seat I enjoyed so much? He ate that too. Well, I helped, a little, but only because he made me.

And, anyway, we've spent a LOT of time outside. And our yard's smaller now (and there are bricks and stones all the way around so the beagle can't dig out), but our dog house, get this, it has a DECK on it. So we sit up there and we can see like EVERYTHING and bark at any dog who walks by and it really is pretty cool. I really like the deck. Sometimes I'll stand up there and bark at Stewie as he runs circles around the dog house, and sometimes he'll sit up there and bahwoooo at me as I run around, but mostly we sit up there together wrestling and barking at the other dogs.

And I've gotten big. Really really big. TheLady tells everyone I weigh about eighty five pounds, and I think that's quite a lot. TheBeardedOne didn't want me to get a neutered - not sure what that is, but Stewie says he got one and it sucks, and he's small - so maybe me not getting one helped me get bigger? I dunno for sure. But I'm almost the biggest dog in the area, other than maybe that damn German Shepherd down the alley and across the street. And every time we go for a walk - walks RULE! - we have to go a different direction because that damn Shepherd calls me names like 'bitty black baby' and 'Gozer the Chickenshit Coward' and it just really ticks me off. Ya know? I think we ought to settle it - I can surely kick his mangy Shepherd ass - but TheBeardedOne always walks me now, never TheLady, and he never lets me fight! It's so unfair! I mean, jeesh! Just because I dragged her into a fence a couple of times when some mangy mutt called me a name doesn't mean I shouldn't be allowed to defend myself, does it?

Mutter. Mutter. Damn mouthy Shepherds.

So that's mostly what I've been doing. Playing with the beagle, sitting on my deck, and taking walks, none of which let me explain the meaning of 'Gozer the Gozerian, Gozer the Destructor' to that Shepherd.

I can take him.

A visit from the TV Lady

So. Like. Yesterday. TheLady and Bearded One were kinda moping around the house because the TV thing was broken. They really don't watch it much - it's great when they do, at least when just one of them does, because I get to lay of the couch and CUDDLE!!! - so I didn't understand why they'd be grumbly about it. The Beagle said to just watch, we'd get in trouble for it, whatever it was.

And he was right!

See, this lady with a tool-belt came, with a box - boxes rule! - and she did some stuff in the cabinet, things we weren't allowed to touch, even though the wires and plastic bags and papers and things were all so very interesting. In fact TheLady put me and the beagle outside just so we wouldn't get into trouble.

By the way, did the CATS have to go outside? No. And the littlest one sat IN the box and jumped all over the tool-belt lady and played with the papers and plastic bags and everything and did she get in trouble? NO. Everyone kept saying how cute she was. Dang cats, it's so unfair.

Anyway, we were outside a while and the tool-belt lady and Bearded One came outside and climbed up on the garage to look at the big round thingy up there, which was apparently okay. So then we were let out of our part of the back yard - the humans call it Fort Stewie, how stupid is that? Don't they realize I'm in there too?? - and wouldn't you know it, we got in trouble, just like Stewie said we would.

Why, you ask? Well there was this rubbery wire thing that came up from the ground and poked into the house and, the afternoon before, Stewie suggested that it might be tasty. And it was, until I got a good gnaw going then it kinda bit me in the mouth, made it all tingly-scratchy-yeeouch! But Bearded One and the lady with the tool-belt were some upset with us. So TheLady brought us inside and there was a lot of banging and clanging outside - and the dang little cat playing in the papers and boxes we dogs weren't allowed to touch, isn't she cute? Yeah, cute enough to get stepped on, little snot - and TheLady was very, very grumpy with us.

But whatever needed to be banged and clanged got done and the tool-belt lady got the TV working again, and Bearded One just shook his head at us and everything was okay.

We were extra special good the rest of the day, though, and today we got leftover pork roast! Which ROCKS!!

Chewing. A dog's gotta do it.

There's a great big chewy thing - the humans call it a love seat - that tastes soooooo good. But I'm not supposed to chew on it. The rawhide strips and 'toys' and bones get boring. Why cant she understand that? And the rug? I heard her tell Bearded One that it just cost a dollar - I don't think that's much - but still I get in trouble for gnawing on it.

But it's soft yet bouncy, and shreds so well. There's a lot of satisfaction in chewing on something that shreds. And the love seat thing... just wow!

Makes rawhide strips seem dull.