Monday, December 8, 2008
Hi everyone! We don't have Gus' 30 below temperatures here, but it's been awfully cold. So cold in fact that on Saturday, I refused to go on my afternoon walk. The pics of Wimsey looking unhappy in his halti inspired me to wage my own houndly campaign of resistance. I planted my feet, hung my head (causing some sinister-looking wrinkles), and flatly refused to move. Mom finally decided it was too cold to stand outside and beg me to go, so I was returned to the comfort of my lounge chair and Mom went on about bloodhound stubborness.
If you're wondering about the title of this post, it's the new word Mom and Dad thought up to use when I exhibit particularly houndly behavior, most of which involve making some kind of mess. Recent examples are:
Eating canned food--it gets EVERYWHERE--my snout, my ears (perhaps I need a snood), on the walls, the floor... you name it. Mom always stands by with a wet rag for the wipedown.
Counter-surfing (the successful kind where I actually find and decimate something). The most recent episode involved Dad's spent grains from beer brewing, sitting in a bowl on the counter ready for me to take down and enjoy. Unfortunately, the bowl falling got Dad's attention and he snatched the yummy stuff away before Bernie and I could really go to town... oh well, next time.
My howl when I want to run over and sniff someone or tell off other dogs--usually the not-so-nice dogs in the neighborhood. My voice reverberates through the entire neighborhood--it's rather impressive, really.
Anyway, as promised are some pics of me in my new sweater, which is very snuggly and comfy indeed. Hound fashion and function at its finest. A-roo!
Monday, December 1, 2008
Hope everyone had a happy Thanksgiving. I am feeling great and think that my duck and sweet potato food is the best stuff ever invented. Mom says I'm looking very shiny and is hoping I'll put on some weight soon.
Unlike lucky Wimsey, we didn't get to supervise the roasting of the turkey this year since Mom and Dad went over to Grandad and Grandma's for dinner. Mom still has nightmares about the turkey leg she had to pull out of Bernie's mouth last year. He was about to swallow it whole!
The weather was yucky, but luckily we still got some nice seasonal shots in. There is a mouse that lives in our wood pile and I was bound and determined to flush him out. Bernie, on the other hand, was playing in the leaves. Mom and Dad wouldn't mind him diving into the leaf piles if he didn't pee on them first... typical male dog, I say.