I'm adopted! I'm not a foster dog anymore! I know mom and dad are really excited too! I'll miss being part of Grandma Judy's foster family, but I really belong to someone now. For the first time EVER I belong to someone who loves me! Mom and dad are really excited too! Woo hoo! Mom and dad are going to get some pictures of all of us together so we can put a brand new picture up - and send one to Grandma Judy of course, 'cuz she'll always be my special grandma! Mom gets paid today so she says we're going to PetSmart, just the 2 of us, and I get a new squeaky toy! That's good 'cuz I've broken all the squeakers on all the other toys. Even Ruger has been hiding his favorite duck from me, it has one squeaker left - I know 'cuz he squeaks it sometimes when he has it in bed with him and I can't get to it!
Isn't that the best news? I'm so happy I'm doing the doxie happy dance!
Monday, June 26, 2006
Friday, June 16, 2006
Please read this...
This is pretty much the story of my life until someone saved me from the puppy mill and then grandma got me, and from there I came to live with mom and dad. Please rememeber there are a lot more dogs just like me in places like these. These are evil, wicked places where dogs have no fun and we're always afraid.
Born In A Missouri Puppy MillBy Brenda Shoss 6/14/06
ht tp://www.KinshipCircle.orgShe waddles over, a puffy "hair-do" perched upon stubby legs. The four-pound pup nestles against my chest and gives me the goofy sideways glance. I'm a goner. I'll call her Mandy.
I first laid eyes upon this irresistible Lhasa Apso at Flawdogs Adoption, a rescue dedicated to "little puppy mill leftovers" about 45 minutes southwest of St. Louis in Morse Mill, Missouri.
There are no kennels or cages at Flawdogs. A tree-lined bridge leads to a canine Shangri-La where Silky Terriers, Corgis, Chihuahuas and Yorkies frolic amid pools and sunbathing decks in outdoor runs across eight yards. Inside, Shih Tzus, Poodles, Bichon Frises, and Dachshunds tumble over toys and each other. It's Camp Cute, with an army of wide-eyed fluffballs auditioning to steal your heart.
But Mandy's doubtful peer recalls another setting. During her first week home, direct eye contact threatens her. Reaching han ds remind her of harsh hands that once threw her from cage to cage. She pauses before open doors, remembering other dogs smashed in gates when they tried to flee. She freezes on a leash. My gentle tug reminds her of a yank by the head or neck.
Love and a loose leash soon erase Mandy's memories of birth inside a Missouri puppy mill. Yet though Flawdogs had tested and vaccinated her for ailments commonly spread inside breeding mills, Mandy grows anorexic and lethargic. She is treated for coccidia and giardia parasites. Her back legs cave in as she walks. An x-ray reveals the head of femur bone is missing in her left leg. The same bone in her right leg is porous, ragged and dying.
Still, Mandy is one lucky dog. Flawdogs founder Sally Ives, former director of Open Door Animal Sanctuary in House Springs, MO, talks about wire hair terriers salvaged from a puppy mill in northern Missouri. One dog's entire nasal channel was exposed where his face had been torn away in a fight. A Dachshund came with third degree heating pad burns over 60% of her tiny body.
"It's a miracle that dog lived," Ives says. "Those are the heartwarming cases -- the ones who are supposed to die, but insist on living instead."
Puppy mills are profit-driven enterprises that typically fail to provide adequate veterinary care, diet, exercise or shelter. Large sites house up to 1,000 dogs in rusted chicken wire cages heaped three or four tiers high. Urine and feces seep into lower cages. Dogs at the top swelter in the summer and freeze in the winter. Smaller facilities may board 50 or more dogs in squalid kennel runs.
The mass breeder's bottom line is low overhead and high return. So bulk food purchases are often comprised of sweepings from the food manufacturer's floor. Dogs are so nutrition deprived, their teeth rot as young as one or two years of age. Sometimes their jaws di ssolve. Others lose their front teeth from gnawing on the metal bars that contain them.
There are approximately 5,000 mill-style outfits nationwide. Cruelty investigators have uncovered parasite-infested dogs with oozing eyes, ear infections, and fur so matted it forms a cocoon over sores. Mange can transform a puppy's skin into a blanket of red scabs. Dogs in congested quarters easily spread worms, upper respiratory infections, coccidia, giardia, and deadly parvovirus and distemper.
Dogs are found with gangrenous skin where collars became embedded in flesh. Others are balding, blind, emaciated. Some long-term mill dogs have been debarked by shoving a steel rod down their throats to mutilate vocal cords.
Breeding factories function primarily in Missouri, Nebraska, Kansas, Iowa, Arkansas, Oklahoma, and Pennsylvania. Missouri leads the way, with an estimated $40 million per year in puppy mill profits.
Ives' relationship with mill managers, mostly women, is unique. On 24-hour call, she awaits their invitation to collect the rejects slated for euthanasia. "They see themselves as professional breeders. I must appear positive and flattering. The few times I've leaked a look of horror, I've never been invited back. My commitment is to any dog I can get out.
"Federally licensed Class A breeders form contractual agreements with brokers, or Class B dealers, who purchase mill pups for resale to some 3,500 U.S. pet outlets. Brokers seek flawless 8-week-old puppies to pile into crates for shipment by truck or plane. According to the Companion Animal Protection Society, a half-million puppies pass from mill to broker to pet shop in the U.S. and Canada every year.
A dog who misses a broker's weekly pickup from the mill may be deemed "too old" by the next collection day and consequently killed. If a broker reaches his sales quota in a region, he has nowhere else to market puppies. In most cases, these leftovers are healthy young animals.A broker's criterion is based on what the public will pay for. "We've saved a lot of Bichon and Maltese pups who have biscuit-colored ears. They won't accept biscuit on a white dog, or any color considered inconsistent, even an odd-colored eye," Ives explains.
Ives rescues any animal a mill will release: Too small. Too large. Undescended testicles. Umbilical hernias. A sparse coat. A short tail.
"How do you pick which ones to save and which ones to pass a death sentence on?" she asks. "They ride quietly in our crowded van. We hold as many in our laps as we can to start the socialization."Mandy was a disposable mill dog. Her twisted back legs were likely injured in a cage jam-packed with puppies. Dogs suffer abscessed feet, hyperflexion, loss of limbs or bones, and deformed or broken legs from trauma inside overcrowded wire encl osures.Mills usually cull puppies with leg defects. Ives acquires many Italian Greyhounds dismissed for luxating patellas. In fact, their wobbly kneecaps arise from insufficient muscle growth. After days of open space and nutritious food, they "run around like lunatics," she says. The "flaw" in older dogs is their inability to produce a viable litter of six or more pups. Mills breed females from six months of age to every heat cycle thereafter. When too worn to turn a profit, dogs as young as two to five years are shot or clubbed in the head. Other throwaways are sold to research laboratories or simply discarded.
Brandylyn, a 17-year-old "chocolate" poodle, was five pounds and pregnant when Ives retrieved her from a mill. Three baths later, Brandylyn emerged as a white dog. "She had been sold, auctioned, and traded so many times, they lost track of her color," Ives says. "Her babies were stillborn."One overbred Yorkshire Terrier arrived with 12 mammary tumors. Ives compares their insides to "cole slaw, filled with adhesions, cysts, and scar tissue. Some are boiling with pyometra (an infection of the female organs) that can fatally rupture.
"While breeders and brokers retain consulting veterinarians, they rarely call upon them. "Their idea of medical intervention is to stick a sick dog in a garage, basement, or barn," Ives claims.Shoddy breeding methods predispose dogs to chronic infirmities such as hip dysplasia, dislocating kneecaps, seizures, eye lesions, liver and heart disease, and autoimmune disorders.
In California, a state financed study revealed almost half of pet store pups were sick or harboring diseases.The Animal, Plant and Health Inspection Service (APHIS) arm of the USDA regulates animal industries. This financially strapped agency employs a relative handful of inspectors to monitor thousands of Class A licensees (breeders), Class B licensees (brokers), Class C licensees (exhibitors), handlers, and biomedical researchers.
Present law categorizes high volume breeders who sell directly to the public as "pet stores, and exempts them from U.S. Animal Welfare Act guidelines. Thus, a breeder who sells animals via a middleman broker, the internet or newspaper ads functions with minimal oversight. Kittens, puppies and other companion animals easily cross state borders with no information about the decrepit surroundings in which they were raised. This loophole undermines a key intent of the AWA and deceives consumers, who are conned into spending huge fees on animals with health complications. When I ask Ives about her role in a system clogged with lax laws, she pauses and then quietly clarifies her mission: "I am their caretaker. I get to touch their lives for a little while and send them bouncing into people's arms. I am upstairs right now, looking over my little dogs in their playhouses, just hanging out the windows. This is grand. I am way too happy.
"Somehow, Ives finds homes for even the most traumatized animals. One family traveled 300 miles to adopt Trina, a blind dog with detached retinas. Mufasa's family adores him, despite undernourishment that left him permanently hairless over most of his body. Tick, an underweight Dachshund who couldn't sustain his own body temperature, is photographed weeks later amid a swirl of shredded paper towels. Once they can wreak puppy havoc, Ives knows they are okay.
In closing I mention to Ives that although I currently have two cats and two dogs, I really want to rescue a beagle. "If I can talk my husband into more animals... Do you get beagles?""Funny you should ask," she drawls. Ives knows I'm already hooked, but offers this advice: "You need to break your husband in gradually."Honey , how do you feel about beagle pups?"
Flawed Dogs
a poem by Berkley Breathed
So in this world of the simple and odd,
the bent and the pain,
the unbalanced body,
the imperfect people and differently pawed,
some live without love...
THAT'S how they're flawed.
WHAT YOU CAN DO1. Boycott pet stores that buy and sell companion animals. Without pet store sales, mass pet producers would be squeezed out of business. Meet and fall in love with your own puppy mill rescue at Flawdogs! Out-of-state adoptions welcome. View animals online and visit Flawdogs (by appointment): Flawdogs Adoption ph: 636-274-2511; email: gnsives@aol.com web: http://www.petfinder.com/shelters/flawdogs.html
http://community.webshots.com/user/flawdogs
P.O. Box 99
Morse Mill, MO 63066
In Missouri, Flawdogs is at the Arnold Petco every Sunday from 11:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. They are also there on the second and fourth Saturday, each month.
Born In A Missouri Puppy MillBy Brenda Shoss 6/14/06
ht tp://www.KinshipCircle.orgShe waddles over, a puffy "hair-do" perched upon stubby legs. The four-pound pup nestles against my chest and gives me the goofy sideways glance. I'm a goner. I'll call her Mandy.
I first laid eyes upon this irresistible Lhasa Apso at Flawdogs Adoption, a rescue dedicated to "little puppy mill leftovers" about 45 minutes southwest of St. Louis in Morse Mill, Missouri.
There are no kennels or cages at Flawdogs. A tree-lined bridge leads to a canine Shangri-La where Silky Terriers, Corgis, Chihuahuas and Yorkies frolic amid pools and sunbathing decks in outdoor runs across eight yards. Inside, Shih Tzus, Poodles, Bichon Frises, and Dachshunds tumble over toys and each other. It's Camp Cute, with an army of wide-eyed fluffballs auditioning to steal your heart.
But Mandy's doubtful peer recalls another setting. During her first week home, direct eye contact threatens her. Reaching han ds remind her of harsh hands that once threw her from cage to cage. She pauses before open doors, remembering other dogs smashed in gates when they tried to flee. She freezes on a leash. My gentle tug reminds her of a yank by the head or neck.
Love and a loose leash soon erase Mandy's memories of birth inside a Missouri puppy mill. Yet though Flawdogs had tested and vaccinated her for ailments commonly spread inside breeding mills, Mandy grows anorexic and lethargic. She is treated for coccidia and giardia parasites. Her back legs cave in as she walks. An x-ray reveals the head of femur bone is missing in her left leg. The same bone in her right leg is porous, ragged and dying.
Still, Mandy is one lucky dog. Flawdogs founder Sally Ives, former director of Open Door Animal Sanctuary in House Springs, MO, talks about wire hair terriers salvaged from a puppy mill in northern Missouri. One dog's entire nasal channel was exposed where his face had been torn away in a fight. A Dachshund came with third degree heating pad burns over 60% of her tiny body.
"It's a miracle that dog lived," Ives says. "Those are the heartwarming cases -- the ones who are supposed to die, but insist on living instead."
Puppy mills are profit-driven enterprises that typically fail to provide adequate veterinary care, diet, exercise or shelter. Large sites house up to 1,000 dogs in rusted chicken wire cages heaped three or four tiers high. Urine and feces seep into lower cages. Dogs at the top swelter in the summer and freeze in the winter. Smaller facilities may board 50 or more dogs in squalid kennel runs.
The mass breeder's bottom line is low overhead and high return. So bulk food purchases are often comprised of sweepings from the food manufacturer's floor. Dogs are so nutrition deprived, their teeth rot as young as one or two years of age. Sometimes their jaws di ssolve. Others lose their front teeth from gnawing on the metal bars that contain them.
There are approximately 5,000 mill-style outfits nationwide. Cruelty investigators have uncovered parasite-infested dogs with oozing eyes, ear infections, and fur so matted it forms a cocoon over sores. Mange can transform a puppy's skin into a blanket of red scabs. Dogs in congested quarters easily spread worms, upper respiratory infections, coccidia, giardia, and deadly parvovirus and distemper.
Dogs are found with gangrenous skin where collars became embedded in flesh. Others are balding, blind, emaciated. Some long-term mill dogs have been debarked by shoving a steel rod down their throats to mutilate vocal cords.
Breeding factories function primarily in Missouri, Nebraska, Kansas, Iowa, Arkansas, Oklahoma, and Pennsylvania. Missouri leads the way, with an estimated $40 million per year in puppy mill profits.
Ives' relationship with mill managers, mostly women, is unique. On 24-hour call, she awaits their invitation to collect the rejects slated for euthanasia. "They see themselves as professional breeders. I must appear positive and flattering. The few times I've leaked a look of horror, I've never been invited back. My commitment is to any dog I can get out.
"Federally licensed Class A breeders form contractual agreements with brokers, or Class B dealers, who purchase mill pups for resale to some 3,500 U.S. pet outlets. Brokers seek flawless 8-week-old puppies to pile into crates for shipment by truck or plane. According to the Companion Animal Protection Society, a half-million puppies pass from mill to broker to pet shop in the U.S. and Canada every year.
A dog who misses a broker's weekly pickup from the mill may be deemed "too old" by the next collection day and consequently killed. If a broker reaches his sales quota in a region, he has nowhere else to market puppies. In most cases, these leftovers are healthy young animals.A broker's criterion is based on what the public will pay for. "We've saved a lot of Bichon and Maltese pups who have biscuit-colored ears. They won't accept biscuit on a white dog, or any color considered inconsistent, even an odd-colored eye," Ives explains.
Ives rescues any animal a mill will release: Too small. Too large. Undescended testicles. Umbilical hernias. A sparse coat. A short tail.
"How do you pick which ones to save and which ones to pass a death sentence on?" she asks. "They ride quietly in our crowded van. We hold as many in our laps as we can to start the socialization."Mandy was a disposable mill dog. Her twisted back legs were likely injured in a cage jam-packed with puppies. Dogs suffer abscessed feet, hyperflexion, loss of limbs or bones, and deformed or broken legs from trauma inside overcrowded wire encl osures.Mills usually cull puppies with leg defects. Ives acquires many Italian Greyhounds dismissed for luxating patellas. In fact, their wobbly kneecaps arise from insufficient muscle growth. After days of open space and nutritious food, they "run around like lunatics," she says. The "flaw" in older dogs is their inability to produce a viable litter of six or more pups. Mills breed females from six months of age to every heat cycle thereafter. When too worn to turn a profit, dogs as young as two to five years are shot or clubbed in the head. Other throwaways are sold to research laboratories or simply discarded.
Brandylyn, a 17-year-old "chocolate" poodle, was five pounds and pregnant when Ives retrieved her from a mill. Three baths later, Brandylyn emerged as a white dog. "She had been sold, auctioned, and traded so many times, they lost track of her color," Ives says. "Her babies were stillborn."One overbred Yorkshire Terrier arrived with 12 mammary tumors. Ives compares their insides to "cole slaw, filled with adhesions, cysts, and scar tissue. Some are boiling with pyometra (an infection of the female organs) that can fatally rupture.
"While breeders and brokers retain consulting veterinarians, they rarely call upon them. "Their idea of medical intervention is to stick a sick dog in a garage, basement, or barn," Ives claims.Shoddy breeding methods predispose dogs to chronic infirmities such as hip dysplasia, dislocating kneecaps, seizures, eye lesions, liver and heart disease, and autoimmune disorders.
In California, a state financed study revealed almost half of pet store pups were sick or harboring diseases.The Animal, Plant and Health Inspection Service (APHIS) arm of the USDA regulates animal industries. This financially strapped agency employs a relative handful of inspectors to monitor thousands of Class A licensees (breeders), Class B licensees (brokers), Class C licensees (exhibitors), handlers, and biomedical researchers.
Present law categorizes high volume breeders who sell directly to the public as "pet stores, and exempts them from U.S. Animal Welfare Act guidelines. Thus, a breeder who sells animals via a middleman broker, the internet or newspaper ads functions with minimal oversight. Kittens, puppies and other companion animals easily cross state borders with no information about the decrepit surroundings in which they were raised. This loophole undermines a key intent of the AWA and deceives consumers, who are conned into spending huge fees on animals with health complications. When I ask Ives about her role in a system clogged with lax laws, she pauses and then quietly clarifies her mission: "I am their caretaker. I get to touch their lives for a little while and send them bouncing into people's arms. I am upstairs right now, looking over my little dogs in their playhouses, just hanging out the windows. This is grand. I am way too happy.
"Somehow, Ives finds homes for even the most traumatized animals. One family traveled 300 miles to adopt Trina, a blind dog with detached retinas. Mufasa's family adores him, despite undernourishment that left him permanently hairless over most of his body. Tick, an underweight Dachshund who couldn't sustain his own body temperature, is photographed weeks later amid a swirl of shredded paper towels. Once they can wreak puppy havoc, Ives knows they are okay.
In closing I mention to Ives that although I currently have two cats and two dogs, I really want to rescue a beagle. "If I can talk my husband into more animals... Do you get beagles?""Funny you should ask," she drawls. Ives knows I'm already hooked, but offers this advice: "You need to break your husband in gradually."Honey , how do you feel about beagle pups?"
Flawed Dogs
a poem by Berkley Breathed
So in this world of the simple and odd,
the bent and the pain,
the unbalanced body,
the imperfect people and differently pawed,
some live without love...
THAT'S how they're flawed.
WHAT YOU CAN DO1. Boycott pet stores that buy and sell companion animals. Without pet store sales, mass pet producers would be squeezed out of business. Meet and fall in love with your own puppy mill rescue at Flawdogs! Out-of-state adoptions welcome. View animals online and visit Flawdogs (by appointment): Flawdogs Adoption ph: 636-274-2511; email: gnsives@aol.com web: http://www.petfinder.com/shelters/flawdogs.html
http://community.webshots.com/user/flawdogs
P.O. Box 99
Morse Mill, MO 63066
In Missouri, Flawdogs is at the Arnold Petco every Sunday from 11:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. They are also there on the second and fourth Saturday, each month.
Well, maybe I'm not the mighty hunter after all...
I woke up the other night and there was something in my bed. I didn't like it, so I barked and barked for mom or dad to get up and help me. First dad got up and thought I wanted to go outside, since I was standing by the gate. I went outside to make him happy, but that really wasn't the problem. Then I came back inside and dad put me back in my room and left me alone with that thing in my bed again. I barked and barked again. This time dad thought I wanted some applesauce, so he got up and gave me some. (I must rememeber that if I bark in the middle of the night I might get applesauce...) Anyway, after I ate he left me alone again. I barked and barked. I think dad was trying to ignore me because I had to bark a LONG time before he finally came back. Mom told him to make sure there wasn't a bug in my bed. Well, it wasn't a bug, it was a big old poop!
Dad took it out of my bed, and flushed it down the big water bowl and then I went right back to sleep. Man, what you go through to get people to understand you!
Dad took it out of my bed, and flushed it down the big water bowl and then I went right back to sleep. Man, what you go through to get people to understand you!
Sunday, June 11, 2006
The Mighty Hunter Returns
Finally, mom got off the computer so I could write! She's sick today. I'm sorry she's sick, but she's such a HOG with the computer... What's a guy to do?
I killed another bird today. YES! I even got to eat most of it before dad found out. Mom is totally grossed out and won't let me near her, but that's okay, she'll forget in a little while and then I'll be back on the bed with her. Our weather has been really hot, but I like it. I sit outside for hours. Mom always has to come look for me, and call me, and she isn't satisfied until I come out of my hiding places (under the hostas) so she knows I haven't gotten out of the gate again. I won't do that again. I got scared kind of bad the first time I did that.
Mom was gone taking care of grandma and grandpa's cat this week. How's that for dog neglect? Leaving me home while she takes care of a stupid CAT! And Mr. Tucker doesn't even like dogs. I wanted to go to grandma's but mom said Mr. Tucker would eat ME! Bet he wouldn't. Silly old cat couldn't hurt a mighty hunter like me! (Note from mom - he took out after my brother in law's Irish Setter, so mighty hunter or not, Charlie stays home when we go to grandma's.) Some bad people got into grandma's and grandpa's house while they were gone, so mom had to take care of Mr. Tucker because my human cousin was afraid to stay there. Maybe if she had a guard DOG instead of a cat that wouldn't have happened. I'm only sayin'.....
I found a new treat this week - bananas! Yum! They're even better than applesauce, but mom doesn't share them as much. She says I can't have a whole one, so I can only have some when she has one. The other kids don't like them much. Good, all the more for me.
My back was all healed up, but then it itched me again, so I chewed it open. I don't think it's too bad. Mom thinks it is, so I had to go to the vet - again. I think I should just live there and mom and dad can come visit me. Geez. Dr. Jesske said I look "great". Woo hoo! My mouth is a little worse, I guess I have a fistula, kind of a hole in the bone of my jaw, but they can't fix it. Dr. Jesske said they could, but maybe if I go to sleep I won't wake up again. That wouldn't be too good, so mom said no. Whew! He said they could go to another vet where they have someone watch me when I'm asleep, something like a seezeologist, (note from mom - anesthesiologist) but that would cost a lot of money and even then I might not wake up. I'm not liking that idea too much, so I'm glad mom says no. I'm happy with my soft food and any birds I can find. So I don't think my mouth needs to be fixed - even though the other kids won't drink out of the water bowl after me 'cause there's icky stuff in it. More water for me, the way I see it. Besides, mom fills it up all the time with clean water. They're such BABIES!
Mom is really excited because Dr. Jesske gave her some prednisone for Heidi because she's itching - guess she's 'lergic to something, anyways the prednisone fixed her nose right up. No more scab. She's a pretty good lookin' dog, of course she's my sister though, so I have to say that.
Well, I just heard mom get up so I'm going to go lay in the corner and pretend like I haven't been on the computer. Thanks to all my friends who read this! I love everybody!
I killed another bird today. YES! I even got to eat most of it before dad found out. Mom is totally grossed out and won't let me near her, but that's okay, she'll forget in a little while and then I'll be back on the bed with her. Our weather has been really hot, but I like it. I sit outside for hours. Mom always has to come look for me, and call me, and she isn't satisfied until I come out of my hiding places (under the hostas) so she knows I haven't gotten out of the gate again. I won't do that again. I got scared kind of bad the first time I did that.
Mom was gone taking care of grandma and grandpa's cat this week. How's that for dog neglect? Leaving me home while she takes care of a stupid CAT! And Mr. Tucker doesn't even like dogs. I wanted to go to grandma's but mom said Mr. Tucker would eat ME! Bet he wouldn't. Silly old cat couldn't hurt a mighty hunter like me! (Note from mom - he took out after my brother in law's Irish Setter, so mighty hunter or not, Charlie stays home when we go to grandma's.) Some bad people got into grandma's and grandpa's house while they were gone, so mom had to take care of Mr. Tucker because my human cousin was afraid to stay there. Maybe if she had a guard DOG instead of a cat that wouldn't have happened. I'm only sayin'.....
I found a new treat this week - bananas! Yum! They're even better than applesauce, but mom doesn't share them as much. She says I can't have a whole one, so I can only have some when she has one. The other kids don't like them much. Good, all the more for me.
My back was all healed up, but then it itched me again, so I chewed it open. I don't think it's too bad. Mom thinks it is, so I had to go to the vet - again. I think I should just live there and mom and dad can come visit me. Geez. Dr. Jesske said I look "great". Woo hoo! My mouth is a little worse, I guess I have a fistula, kind of a hole in the bone of my jaw, but they can't fix it. Dr. Jesske said they could, but maybe if I go to sleep I won't wake up again. That wouldn't be too good, so mom said no. Whew! He said they could go to another vet where they have someone watch me when I'm asleep, something like a seezeologist, (note from mom - anesthesiologist) but that would cost a lot of money and even then I might not wake up. I'm not liking that idea too much, so I'm glad mom says no. I'm happy with my soft food and any birds I can find. So I don't think my mouth needs to be fixed - even though the other kids won't drink out of the water bowl after me 'cause there's icky stuff in it. More water for me, the way I see it. Besides, mom fills it up all the time with clean water. They're such BABIES!
Mom is really excited because Dr. Jesske gave her some prednisone for Heidi because she's itching - guess she's 'lergic to something, anyways the prednisone fixed her nose right up. No more scab. She's a pretty good lookin' dog, of course she's my sister though, so I have to say that.
Well, I just heard mom get up so I'm going to go lay in the corner and pretend like I haven't been on the computer. Thanks to all my friends who read this! I love everybody!
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Summer, finally summer!
So, I see my mom's been posting on my blog, huh? Well! She has one of her own, she should leave mine alone! She's right though, I've been having so much fun that I just don't even think about getting on the 'puter and updating this blog. It's so nice out! When I go outside I don't want to come back in, our yard is so big, I just walk and walk and walk, and sometimes I take naps by a tree or in the garden. Mom says the plants are hostas. I don't care what they're called, it's nice and cool under their leaves. A guy could lay out there forever!
We haven't had too much excitement around here. Mom and dad are talking about getting a wood floor in the living room. Mom said she's tired of the way the living room smells. Something about an outhouse? Are all houses outside? I don't get it. But I have a feeling it won't be as much fun to make a mess if there's no carpet! Dad won't have to get that big noisy machine out of the garage either, you know, the one that makes the carpet all wet and icky to lay on. It takes all the good doggie smells away too... Maybe that's what they want!? That's kind of funny.
I've been spending evenings laying in the big bed in Mom and Dad's room. It's very comfortable and I sleep really good there. I wish they would let me sleep there all night, but dad says nothin' doing! I guess I peed in their bed a long time ago and he's not going to give me the chance to do that again. It was so long ago I hardly remember, I think it was right after I came to live here. Geez, I wish they'd give me some credit. I have learned SOMETHING since I've been here. Gosh.
Meghan (my human sister) has been hanging around a lot. I guess she's living back in Nebraska now. She did live in some place called Iowa. I think maybe I was there once in the car, but I'm not sure. Meghan had a thing called a graduation a few weeks ago. She was all done with one college and now she's going to another one. Sounds like a lot of work if you ask me. I guess she doesn't know that if you just look really really cute people will want to take you home and feed you and give you a soft bed. Humans can be so dense at times.
I hear mom, better get off the computer! Later friends!
Chuck
We haven't had too much excitement around here. Mom and dad are talking about getting a wood floor in the living room. Mom said she's tired of the way the living room smells. Something about an outhouse? Are all houses outside? I don't get it. But I have a feeling it won't be as much fun to make a mess if there's no carpet! Dad won't have to get that big noisy machine out of the garage either, you know, the one that makes the carpet all wet and icky to lay on. It takes all the good doggie smells away too... Maybe that's what they want!? That's kind of funny.
I've been spending evenings laying in the big bed in Mom and Dad's room. It's very comfortable and I sleep really good there. I wish they would let me sleep there all night, but dad says nothin' doing! I guess I peed in their bed a long time ago and he's not going to give me the chance to do that again. It was so long ago I hardly remember, I think it was right after I came to live here. Geez, I wish they'd give me some credit. I have learned SOMETHING since I've been here. Gosh.
Meghan (my human sister) has been hanging around a lot. I guess she's living back in Nebraska now. She did live in some place called Iowa. I think maybe I was there once in the car, but I'm not sure. Meghan had a thing called a graduation a few weeks ago. She was all done with one college and now she's going to another one. Sounds like a lot of work if you ask me. I guess she doesn't know that if you just look really really cute people will want to take you home and feed you and give you a soft bed. Humans can be so dense at times.
I hear mom, better get off the computer! Later friends!
Chuck
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
A Note from Charlie's Mom
Don't worry! Everything is fine, I'm not posting because Charlie can't get to the computer! LOL Anyway, I just wanted to tell everyone what a great spring Charlie is having - aside from being scared to death by the baby gate.
He's been outside a LOT and he's loving every minute of it! I could cry when I think that up until Grandma got him last year in August (?) that he probably had spent very little time, if at all, out of his cell. Yesterday he was in the backyard for about 3 hours! I kept going out to check on him and he was just wandering around the yard and occasionally napping under the tree. I'll have to get some pictures later today if I have time.
On Friday last week he made his first kill! Granted it was a baby bird, but he hunted it down. While I'm not an advocate of killing baby birds, I have to think that this was the first time he's ever done anything remotely like this - he's really turning into a mighty hunter!
As for his everyday life, his ears are looking great! The sore above his leg on his back is getting better and he seems to have a lot more energy and is more playful than he ever has been. Guess he has spring fever too! He still loves his applesauce and his meals 4 times a day of rabbit and potato with a little extra baked potato thrown in for good measure. No hair is growing back anywhere, but we love him more every day - little half-naked doxie man!
He's been outside a LOT and he's loving every minute of it! I could cry when I think that up until Grandma got him last year in August (?) that he probably had spent very little time, if at all, out of his cell. Yesterday he was in the backyard for about 3 hours! I kept going out to check on him and he was just wandering around the yard and occasionally napping under the tree. I'll have to get some pictures later today if I have time.
On Friday last week he made his first kill! Granted it was a baby bird, but he hunted it down. While I'm not an advocate of killing baby birds, I have to think that this was the first time he's ever done anything remotely like this - he's really turning into a mighty hunter!
As for his everyday life, his ears are looking great! The sore above his leg on his back is getting better and he seems to have a lot more energy and is more playful than he ever has been. Guess he has spring fever too! He still loves his applesauce and his meals 4 times a day of rabbit and potato with a little extra baked potato thrown in for good measure. No hair is growing back anywhere, but we love him more every day - little half-naked doxie man!
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Fright!
Wow, I got the crap scared out of me tonight. Mom was working and dad aws in bed, it was dark outside and I needed to go out. Dad put down some paper for me in my room, but heck, who wants to go on the paper? I found a towel in the corner of the room and decided to go there. Much nicer - for me anyway. Well, I bumped the gate that's in the doorway and it fell over with a CRASH! It scared me so bad I'm glad I just went to the bathroom or I'm sure I would have had to go again. I scurried right down the hall tothe bedroom 'cause mom's office door was shut. I wanted dad to pick me up, but he was sleeping! What's a scared guy to do!? Luckily mom heard the gate fall, so she came looking for me. I was shaking like crazy. I haven't been this scared since I came to live here.
Mom found me in the bedroom and decided that as long as I was up I better go outside... Ha ha! Beat you to THAT mom! Snicker... Anyway when I came back in, I sure wasn't going anywhere near that gate again, huh uh! NO way! I hid behind the ottoman in the living room. Mom went all over the house looking for me - tee hee, I was hiding good. Finally dad got up and came looking for me too. He found me though. I was too scared to even eat my applesauce in the kitchen, I kept going back behind the ottoman, so dad finally put me in my room. Dad put the gate up again, before he went to bed. I think I'll either stay in bed from now on during the night or else be sure to use my papers if I really have to go. I don't need to be that scared again!
I got to go see Dr. Jesske again on Sunday. The infection in my leg isn't getting any better. It hurts and I lick and lick it until mom got worried again. (Gosh, doesn't she have anything else to do besides take me to the vet? It would be fine with me if we could skip going there for a little while!) Dr. Jesske was pretty nice, but he squeezed my back again and it still hurts. Mom learned that when she tried to put some medicine on it the other night and I snapped at her. I think she's still amazed! I wouldn't have really bit her, but it made her jump! I'm still giggling over that. Anyway, I got another prescription. Mom said something about spending as much on my prescriptions as on hers. Wow, I didn't know she took as much medicine as me. Anyway, I hope it feels better pretty soon. It's kind of hot and itchy sometimes, and I don't like the hot washcloth mom puts on it. It makes me crabby and want to run and hide. What a guy has to go through, let me tell you!
Mom found me in the bedroom and decided that as long as I was up I better go outside... Ha ha! Beat you to THAT mom! Snicker... Anyway when I came back in, I sure wasn't going anywhere near that gate again, huh uh! NO way! I hid behind the ottoman in the living room. Mom went all over the house looking for me - tee hee, I was hiding good. Finally dad got up and came looking for me too. He found me though. I was too scared to even eat my applesauce in the kitchen, I kept going back behind the ottoman, so dad finally put me in my room. Dad put the gate up again, before he went to bed. I think I'll either stay in bed from now on during the night or else be sure to use my papers if I really have to go. I don't need to be that scared again!
I got to go see Dr. Jesske again on Sunday. The infection in my leg isn't getting any better. It hurts and I lick and lick it until mom got worried again. (Gosh, doesn't she have anything else to do besides take me to the vet? It would be fine with me if we could skip going there for a little while!) Dr. Jesske was pretty nice, but he squeezed my back again and it still hurts. Mom learned that when she tried to put some medicine on it the other night and I snapped at her. I think she's still amazed! I wouldn't have really bit her, but it made her jump! I'm still giggling over that. Anyway, I got another prescription. Mom said something about spending as much on my prescriptions as on hers. Wow, I didn't know she took as much medicine as me. Anyway, I hope it feels better pretty soon. It's kind of hot and itchy sometimes, and I don't like the hot washcloth mom puts on it. It makes me crabby and want to run and hide. What a guy has to go through, let me tell you!
Monday, May 08, 2006
If it's not one end, it's the other.
I had to go to the vet on Saturday and Dr. Jesske wasn't there! It was traumatic, let me tell you! I have a sore on my back, kind of at the top of my back leg. It's been hurting for awhile, but I guess mom thought I had arthritis or something like that. I didn't know what it was, all I knew was that it hurt whenever anybody touched me there. Last week I got a sore there and then the sore got bigger and pretty soon there was another one. Mom freaked out. Told dad maybe I had a "staff" infection or something, so she had to take me to the vet "right away" - like she couldn't wait for Dr. Jesske to work again? Geez.
Anyway, Dr. Matt was nice, but he squeezed my let where it hurt and that hurt really bad, but he said some stuff called pus came out of it, so I have an infection. Again. So now I'm taking medicine for that. Again. Mom says she spends as much money on me as she did Meg and Matt (her human kids). Really, I think she's exaggerating... I have to say it doesn't hurt quite as bad anymore. Mom and dad have been putting ointment on it too, so that helps. I don't feel like biting it anymore, so it must be getting better. I sure do love mom and dad. They had something called an anniversary yesterday, they've been living together and married (what's the difference to a dog?) for 18 years! That's a long, long time. I can't even imagine how long that is. I wish I would have known about this anniversary thing, I would have gotten them a card. Nobody tells you anything when you're a dog! Sheesh!
Anyway, Dr. Matt was nice, but he squeezed my let where it hurt and that hurt really bad, but he said some stuff called pus came out of it, so I have an infection. Again. So now I'm taking medicine for that. Again. Mom says she spends as much money on me as she did Meg and Matt (her human kids). Really, I think she's exaggerating... I have to say it doesn't hurt quite as bad anymore. Mom and dad have been putting ointment on it too, so that helps. I don't feel like biting it anymore, so it must be getting better. I sure do love mom and dad. They had something called an anniversary yesterday, they've been living together and married (what's the difference to a dog?) for 18 years! That's a long, long time. I can't even imagine how long that is. I wish I would have known about this anniversary thing, I would have gotten them a card. Nobody tells you anything when you're a dog! Sheesh!
Sunday, April 30, 2006
I have to complain, but I learned something really nice!
Before I start complaining mom said she found out today when my birthday was! Grandma Judy e-mailed this morning and my birthday is July 5. Isn't that great? I'll be 8 years old this year! Now mom can bake me a potato cake or something to celebrate.
Now, about the complaining. We have lots of trees in our yard. LOTS of trees. Most are cottonwood trees and they have these things that fall out of the tree and they are sticky. Really, really sticky. They stick to me everywhere! They even stick to my feet and get in between my toes. I really don't like that. I have to chew and chew to get them off my feet and that's hard for me because I only have 4 teeth! The other day mom must have seen how much they were starting to hurt because she decided to get them off my feet. Now, don't get me wrong, I love my mom, but I don't like anybody to touch my feet. Ever. For ANY reason. Just leave my feet alone! Well, mom picked me up and put me on her lap and then TOUCHED MY FEET! Yikes! I screamed and cried and wailed. But she didn't put me down. You know what she did? She gave me a big hug and told me she loved me and she would never hurt me. Never hurt me! Can you believe that? I mean, she hasn't hurt me or anything since I've been here, but I really just thought it was a matter of time before she and dad or somebody got really mad at me and hit me or threw a shoe at me or something. But they never have. And now she told me she never would! Can you imagine that? Wow. After that I thought I'd put her to the test, I just sat in her lap and let her try to get those old nasty things off my feet, and you know what? She didn't hurt me? It was a little uncomfortable, but it didn't hurt. All that screaming I did for nothing. I feel kind of silly now...
It's been raining a lot. Every day for 3 days it's been raining. I don't like the rain much, but I figured out that I can go potty in mom's and dad's flower garden. All I have to do is jump from the back stairs across a little space and right into the garden. It doesn't rain over there so I don't get wet. So far so good because she hasn't planted the flowers yet, but I don't know how happy she'll be later this summer. I've had to wear my T-shirt because it's been cool too. You know how I feel about that!
You know what I really like? Dad washes my bed every week. I have a fresh clean bed all the time! It's so nice. Grandma Judy's was nice like that too, but I thought when I came home with mom and dad that they would just leave my room alone and pretty soon it would smell like my old home, pretty bad. That hasn't really happened though. I love dad, he does all kind of good things for me. Mom says she just amazed because every time she tells me to go find dad I do. I go right to him. He usually holds me for a long time on his lap when I do find him and that makes me happy. I love being held.
Yesterday mom was sitting on the sofa with all the other kids laying on her and she was reading a book when I decided I wanted to sit on her lap. She told me no! Can you imagine that? She told he she couldn't pick me up, so I should go lay down in my bed. I couldn't believe it! When she told me no again I started to go to my room, but then I remembered mom had bought me a new squeaky toy last week and it still squeaks so I went to my toy corner close to mom and just squeaked and squeaked and squeaked my toy. Finally mom put the other dogs on the floor and came over and picked me up. If I had known it was that easy to get picked up I would have done it sooner!
Later,
Chuck
Now, about the complaining. We have lots of trees in our yard. LOTS of trees. Most are cottonwood trees and they have these things that fall out of the tree and they are sticky. Really, really sticky. They stick to me everywhere! They even stick to my feet and get in between my toes. I really don't like that. I have to chew and chew to get them off my feet and that's hard for me because I only have 4 teeth! The other day mom must have seen how much they were starting to hurt because she decided to get them off my feet. Now, don't get me wrong, I love my mom, but I don't like anybody to touch my feet. Ever. For ANY reason. Just leave my feet alone! Well, mom picked me up and put me on her lap and then TOUCHED MY FEET! Yikes! I screamed and cried and wailed. But she didn't put me down. You know what she did? She gave me a big hug and told me she loved me and she would never hurt me. Never hurt me! Can you believe that? I mean, she hasn't hurt me or anything since I've been here, but I really just thought it was a matter of time before she and dad or somebody got really mad at me and hit me or threw a shoe at me or something. But they never have. And now she told me she never would! Can you imagine that? Wow. After that I thought I'd put her to the test, I just sat in her lap and let her try to get those old nasty things off my feet, and you know what? She didn't hurt me? It was a little uncomfortable, but it didn't hurt. All that screaming I did for nothing. I feel kind of silly now...
It's been raining a lot. Every day for 3 days it's been raining. I don't like the rain much, but I figured out that I can go potty in mom's and dad's flower garden. All I have to do is jump from the back stairs across a little space and right into the garden. It doesn't rain over there so I don't get wet. So far so good because she hasn't planted the flowers yet, but I don't know how happy she'll be later this summer. I've had to wear my T-shirt because it's been cool too. You know how I feel about that!
You know what I really like? Dad washes my bed every week. I have a fresh clean bed all the time! It's so nice. Grandma Judy's was nice like that too, but I thought when I came home with mom and dad that they would just leave my room alone and pretty soon it would smell like my old home, pretty bad. That hasn't really happened though. I love dad, he does all kind of good things for me. Mom says she just amazed because every time she tells me to go find dad I do. I go right to him. He usually holds me for a long time on his lap when I do find him and that makes me happy. I love being held.
Yesterday mom was sitting on the sofa with all the other kids laying on her and she was reading a book when I decided I wanted to sit on her lap. She told me no! Can you imagine that? She told he she couldn't pick me up, so I should go lay down in my bed. I couldn't believe it! When she told me no again I started to go to my room, but then I remembered mom had bought me a new squeaky toy last week and it still squeaks so I went to my toy corner close to mom and just squeaked and squeaked and squeaked my toy. Finally mom put the other dogs on the floor and came over and picked me up. If I had known it was that easy to get picked up I would have done it sooner!
Later,
Chuck
Friday, April 28, 2006
My ears are better!
Mom got some little steroid pills to give me last week. She thinks she's being sneaky by giving them to me in a piece of my food, but I know they're there! I just go ahead and eat them anyway because I know she'll just grind them up and that makes my food taste nasty. I think the medicine might be working, that makes me want to take it too! Yesterday mom was playing with my ears (I don't like that at all - I growled a little but mom just held me tighter and told me she wasn't going to hurt me.) She got a great big piece of scab off my ear - whew, what a relief! I don't have to shake my head so much now since those things are gone. They were really annoying me, but I couldn't get them to come off. I'm sorry I growled at mom now, she sure made me feel better.
Ruger got in the garbage today. Really, it was Ruger. Unfortunately, when dad came home for lunch I was the one who got caught! Dad even yelled at me! Can you believe that? Dad never yells at me, but he sure did today. Maybe it was because I, er, um, I mean Ruger tore the garbage bag open and spread all those goodies all over the deck. Well, they were goodies to us anyway. I can't figure out why they throw such tempting morsels away. Who can figure what humans think? Anyway, I tried to let dad know that Ruger is the one who did it, but I don't think he believed me. Well, maybe he did because Ruger and I both had to stay in the little room this afternoon. It was worth it though - there was hamburger in the trash! Yum!
It rained the other day and I didn't want to go all the way outside to go potty so I went on the back porch, I think dad was upset about that too. What's a dog supposed to do when it rains? I'd like to see HIM go outside to go to the bathroom and stand in the rain. Geez. Buttercup still goes outside into the yard, silly girl. Dad had to go carry her in when he went back to work, she growled at him because she didn't want to come in, but dad just laughed and picked her up! Haha! She wanted to stay outside and bark at the squirrels, but she was outside for a long time anyway. Mom tried her off with a towel when she got in the house - boy was she mad. Buttercup doesn't like mom or anybody to use a towel to dry her off. Good thing she doesn't have to take as many baths as I do. While mom was drying her off she kept showing her teeth. Mom said, "Look at her smile!" I don't think she was smiling, but I wasn't going to tell mom that! Mom made me wear that new shirt she bought me the other day. I showed her, I got out of it right away. She put it back on, I took it off, she put it back on, I took it off. When dad got home I left it on though. I thought maybe he wouldn't believe mom when she told him I kept taking it off. That was a pretty funny joke to play on mom! Well, I better get off the computer. I hear thunder outside. Night everybody!
Ruger got in the garbage today. Really, it was Ruger. Unfortunately, when dad came home for lunch I was the one who got caught! Dad even yelled at me! Can you believe that? Dad never yells at me, but he sure did today. Maybe it was because I, er, um, I mean Ruger tore the garbage bag open and spread all those goodies all over the deck. Well, they were goodies to us anyway. I can't figure out why they throw such tempting morsels away. Who can figure what humans think? Anyway, I tried to let dad know that Ruger is the one who did it, but I don't think he believed me. Well, maybe he did because Ruger and I both had to stay in the little room this afternoon. It was worth it though - there was hamburger in the trash! Yum!
It rained the other day and I didn't want to go all the way outside to go potty so I went on the back porch, I think dad was upset about that too. What's a dog supposed to do when it rains? I'd like to see HIM go outside to go to the bathroom and stand in the rain. Geez. Buttercup still goes outside into the yard, silly girl. Dad had to go carry her in when he went back to work, she growled at him because she didn't want to come in, but dad just laughed and picked her up! Haha! She wanted to stay outside and bark at the squirrels, but she was outside for a long time anyway. Mom tried her off with a towel when she got in the house - boy was she mad. Buttercup doesn't like mom or anybody to use a towel to dry her off. Good thing she doesn't have to take as many baths as I do. While mom was drying her off she kept showing her teeth. Mom said, "Look at her smile!" I don't think she was smiling, but I wasn't going to tell mom that! Mom made me wear that new shirt she bought me the other day. I showed her, I got out of it right away. She put it back on, I took it off, she put it back on, I took it off. When dad got home I left it on though. I thought maybe he wouldn't believe mom when she told him I kept taking it off. That was a pretty funny joke to play on mom! Well, I better get off the computer. I hear thunder outside. Night everybody!
Sunday, April 23, 2006
A long weekend...
Mom and dad were busy all day Friday and Saturday so we spent a lot of time in our little room. That is SO boring. Heidi always tries to steal my bed and Buttercup and Ruger want the blankets. I've started letting them know they're not going to push ME around! No sir. They are NOT going to get under the blanket if I'm laying on it. They can lay on the bare floor and see how they like it. I think mom felt guilty for being gone so long on Friday so she bought a new toy for us. She says it's for all of us, but it squeaks, so it's mine. Only mine. I've got it in my toy corner and nobody better even think about taking it. Dad got the carpet all wet with the noisy machine on Friday night so he put my toys up in the chair. I can't jump up on the chair, it's too big, so I was pretty mad at dad. I went to my bed and wouldn't come out later to go outside. I showed them though, I left a big mess in the bathroom overnight. I bet they don't don't hide my toys anymore.
We had a lot of company Saturday but there weren't many kids, so I was happy about that. I didn't feel like I had to go and hide. The only one I have to hide from is the one they call "Gabe." He doesn't stand up yet and crawls all over like me. He didn't used to be very fast, but he's faster than me now, so I sat in mom's lap when they were here. Even Ruger hides under the couch when Gabe is around. He's a nice kid, but he's kind of loud and scary to me.
Either mom or dad was home with us all day today - that was much better. Just the way I like it. Mom got some steroid pills from Dr. Jesske for my ears. They were all swollen again. They're doing a bit better I think. I wish I could get the scabs off, but no matter how hard I shake my head they're still there. Dad keeps putting this stuff on them, but they still stay there. I feel like they're always going to be stuck to my ears. It's better than bleeding, I guess.
It so warm and the grass is so much fun to lay in. Mom got me another T-shirt. Bother! The only thing I really don't like is dad has these 2 really big, really noisy toys. The first one is red and he rides on it all over the yard and it sprays grass on me and the other dogs. I don't like it. When I see him open the big garage I go hide. The other one blows loud air and the leaves and grass blow all over. I HATE that one. I don't want to even be outside when he gets that out. What kind of fun can they possibly be? I know they're toys, that's what mom calls them - Dad's toys. I just don't understand.
We had a lot of company Saturday but there weren't many kids, so I was happy about that. I didn't feel like I had to go and hide. The only one I have to hide from is the one they call "Gabe." He doesn't stand up yet and crawls all over like me. He didn't used to be very fast, but he's faster than me now, so I sat in mom's lap when they were here. Even Ruger hides under the couch when Gabe is around. He's a nice kid, but he's kind of loud and scary to me.
Either mom or dad was home with us all day today - that was much better. Just the way I like it. Mom got some steroid pills from Dr. Jesske for my ears. They were all swollen again. They're doing a bit better I think. I wish I could get the scabs off, but no matter how hard I shake my head they're still there. Dad keeps putting this stuff on them, but they still stay there. I feel like they're always going to be stuck to my ears. It's better than bleeding, I guess.
It so warm and the grass is so much fun to lay in. Mom got me another T-shirt. Bother! The only thing I really don't like is dad has these 2 really big, really noisy toys. The first one is red and he rides on it all over the yard and it sprays grass on me and the other dogs. I don't like it. When I see him open the big garage I go hide. The other one blows loud air and the leaves and grass blow all over. I HATE that one. I don't want to even be outside when he gets that out. What kind of fun can they possibly be? I know they're toys, that's what mom calls them - Dad's toys. I just don't understand.
Friday, April 14, 2006
Friday, April 07, 2006
I've Been a Busy Boy
The weather has turned nice! I'm so glad, I can lay out on the porch and enjoy the sun, it feels so good. Now mom is worried though that I might get sunburned so she's going to make me wear my T-shirt when I go outside. I can't win. A sweater in the winter and a T-shirt in the summer. Can't she figure out dogs just like to ge NAKED?!?! None of the other dogs have to wear ths stuff in the summer. It's not fair!
All the other dogs had to go see the vet the other day. They ALL had to get shots too -- HAHA! Ruger and Buttercup had to have their bottoms cleaned out too - Ruger is still complaining about that. I guess he doesn't like that very much. I can't say that I blame him though. They didn't even get to see Dr. Jesske. He's my favorite. Heidi and Ruger told me Dr. Kroeger and Dr. Sternberg are good doctors too, but I've got my favorite and it's not them. Maybe someday I'll get to meet them too.
All my dry dog food is finally gone. Now I get canned food all the time yum! Mom says it better be good 'cause for what it costs we're all going to be eating it pretty soon. I hope she's not serious. They don't share their food with me, I shouldn't have to share my food with them!
Last night we had to spend some time in the "tornado room." I don't know what it is, but I can tell you the floor in that room is cold! Dad put us down there because mom was home and he thought he might have to go out and be a storm spotter. I barked and barked. That was NOT a warm place to me. Luckily mom got home and we didn't have to stay down there. And those awful sirens didn't go off either. Man, I don't like those things!
My ears are kind of hot and fat again. Dad has been putting some kind of medicine on them, so the scabs are almost all gone, but now they're fat again. Maybe I'll have to get another shot. I'm starting to not like shots very much. Well, I hear mom in the other room so I better go before she catches me in here. Bye for now!
All the other dogs had to go see the vet the other day. They ALL had to get shots too -- HAHA! Ruger and Buttercup had to have their bottoms cleaned out too - Ruger is still complaining about that. I guess he doesn't like that very much. I can't say that I blame him though. They didn't even get to see Dr. Jesske. He's my favorite. Heidi and Ruger told me Dr. Kroeger and Dr. Sternberg are good doctors too, but I've got my favorite and it's not them. Maybe someday I'll get to meet them too.
All my dry dog food is finally gone. Now I get canned food all the time yum! Mom says it better be good 'cause for what it costs we're all going to be eating it pretty soon. I hope she's not serious. They don't share their food with me, I shouldn't have to share my food with them!
Last night we had to spend some time in the "tornado room." I don't know what it is, but I can tell you the floor in that room is cold! Dad put us down there because mom was home and he thought he might have to go out and be a storm spotter. I barked and barked. That was NOT a warm place to me. Luckily mom got home and we didn't have to stay down there. And those awful sirens didn't go off either. Man, I don't like those things!
My ears are kind of hot and fat again. Dad has been putting some kind of medicine on them, so the scabs are almost all gone, but now they're fat again. Maybe I'll have to get another shot. I'm starting to not like shots very much. Well, I hear mom in the other room so I better go before she catches me in here. Bye for now!
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