I Need To File A Grievance

 It is routine that when I come in from outside, I bring in a gift. What socialite doesn't show up at a house without a gift?

Some gifts are very lovely sticks (slightly chewed), or maybe a very delicate rock, the bigger the better. 

The host is supposed to take the gift, make a lot of fuss about how wonderful the gift is, and then give their guest a piece of cheese. The host then displays the lovely gift for all to see.

That's the ritual!

Today I came in with a very special stick. Not just any stick, this stick was cultivated from one of the trees in my yard (do you have any idea how much work goes into the selection of sticks?), and I gnawed on the end to make it look like... some form of something, and I carried it up the deck stairs, politely knocked on the door, and entered the abode.

My Host (Bleeder) told me what a lovely stick it was, but I can tell she was faking it. Something about "not enough coffee" or "you hogged the bed and I didn't get a lot of sleep" or "why am I awake at 0500 on a weekend".

I gently plooped the stick onto the kitchen floor, waiting for a better, more exuberant response, when Bleeder shuffles over to the dog treat section, breaks off a woefully small bit of a Pupp-a-roni and then says (are you ready for this) "Well?" when I didn't run up and take it.

"well??" Like I'm supposed to feel honored and loved with a bit of pre-processed dog treat that I get for low end accomplishments, like getting into bed and not clawing and stomping on them? Like I get as a secondary bribe for going into my crate when they go places? THIS? THIS is all you're giving me for my gift?

I'm not feeling very honored or welcome here! The topper was that Bleeder fed me the treat, and then threw my stick in the trash can... RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME! Something about "it's too big for the rock bowl". Too big? It's a piece of art! It should be framed and hung on the wall! That stick is a miracle of nature and artistry wrapped into one!

Her only saving grace from certain bandaids was that apparently it was a thing called Christmas, where gifts are given, and there's supposed to be all sorts of hoopla, a big tree (that would have been fun) and merriment, but it was generally another day called "Saturday" around here, but I did get gifts in the form of squeaky toys without stuffing.

I love squeaky toys, and I love stuffing. I don't like when I can't poop out the stuffing, and neither does Toast and Bleeder, so for my safety and their sanity, I get unstuffed squeaker toys, and yesterday I hit the motherlode.

Now I have two ducks, a kangaroo, and some other things... I can't remember because I was told that I could only have old duck and one new squishy toy at a time, so I picked the Roo. The rest went up for "when I destroy these two). So far I've turned Roo inside out, removed the velcro (you can stick a plastic bottle up it's hoo-ha for crinkly chewing, but I like eating velcro, so that doesn't last), and gutted one squeaker already. The 2nd squeaker was punctured and doesn't squeak, but it's still fun to chew on.

Wallowing in a squeaker wonderland

I've also surgically removed the squeaker out of a blue tennis ball and peeled the skin off, and then topped off the night with a Bully Bone chew.

I also dug three wonderful holes because it was sunny and 65 degrees here. I was promised snow, but you have to make holes out of disappointments.

Overall, it was a good Christmas. It would have been better if they had given me some of that tasty sirloin roast they had for dinner, but meh.

Casey Q & A Session

Hello my adoring subjects,

Bleeder says I get a lot of questions on the Facing Books and the Instantly Grammar (humans have stupid names for everything), so I thought I would sit down on this rainy day (because Bleeder is all: aw heck no I'm not going out in this and throwing a soggy ball for you and then have you dig mud holes the size of small cars, and then clean your feet) and answer some of your questions.

Question 1: Do you "talk and sing"?

Answer 1: no. At least not when humans can hear me. I sometimes sing the song of my people when I'm crated and left alone... ALONE. But only when Bleeder or Toast don't put enough good things into my kong. Generally I just eat my kong and nap. It's more of a protest song. I make noises, and I will bark at evil things (a branch that appears from nowhere in my yard), I will make whiney noises because I want to get the two yappy neighbor dogs barking and running up and down the fence line, then I go to the middle of the yard and sit and wait for the neighbors to come out, apologize for the noise, and tell the yappies to shut up and escort them inside. That is a fun game. Bleeder keeps telling them that I instigate the whole thing and to just let them bark and run. I make noise when I have a good stretch.

Speaking of kongs, Bleeder has taken to stuffing it so tightly that it is impossible to get out. I'm left to fling it all over the house, bounce it off walls, stomp on it, but sometimes I have to give up and hand it over to Bleeder to "loosen it up" so I can get down in there. Bleeder is bitter and sadistic.

Question 2: What's the best thing you've destroyed in the house?

Answer 2: Meh, I don't destroy house things. I know, I know, what kind of husky am I? They leave shoes out and unguarded, they have things on lower cabinets, there is plenty of tasty leather couch to destroy, but I just don't. I do try to eat the one section of bedroom wall, but only because it had been peeled by huskies before me, therefore it is fair game. I nibble on a part of the carpet that was chewed before my time, but they put another rug on top of the carpet, so I generally leave that alone. There is this bass guitar thing that sits behind a gate next to Bleeder's desk like some kind of shrine. I've sniffed it, and it holds no interest to me, so I have no idea why there's a gate there.

Ok, I just remembered some house things I do destroy... but it's technically not inside the house. I like to peel the wood off the deck railings. That's fun. I also took all of the little rubber screw hiding circles off the deck chairs and ate them. Bleeder freaked out at those poop piles until she figure out what they were, then removed the rest from the chairs and table. Then I discovered the hard plastic tips that keep the fabric of the chairs from falling out... they're gonna get a big surprise this summer when they sit on them. Once again, Bleeder figured out what I was doing and removed most of them. I also chewed a bit on the side of the doorway, but they put a plastic gate over that part. I was sampling the lawnmower pull handle, but Bleeder covered it up with a tarp.

I enjoy destroying my toys. As soon as I destroy, more arrive in boxes (which I must sniff before they can be opened, and chewed on for a bit), and it seems to be a never-ending supply of toys, so... I like the fluffy squeaky toys, but those are getting fewer and fewer for some reason. 

I destroyed 3 dog beds and 1 crate pad. I like the current Casper dog bed, so I leave it alone. I also like my bedroom Wash-N-Zip bed. I typically sleep on the fancy sleep number bed with Toast and Bleeder, but there are times that I like to spread out near the air vent and my Wash-N-Zip is perfectly placed near the vent where Meeshka used to sleep, so if it's good enough for her...

Question 3: How do you maintain your sleek figure without another husky to play with?

Answer 3: It is difficult being an only dog, but the benefits outweigh having to share my toys, and food, and attention. I consider Bleeder to be a weaker, less furry, very annoying, lazy, bleedy, and slow playmate. I can easily convince her to come out and play ball, or chase me with the leaf bag around the yard, or throw the ring. When I get good and riled up, I like to play "run as fast as I can, leap into the air and try to knock her down without hitting her". She really loves that game. Toast plays with me too, but he's got rules to follow, is slower, and doesn't understand that I get distracted easily, so he thinks I'm done and goes back inside. I try the leap up and claw on both Bleeder and Toast, but they have NONE OF THAT.

They also take me for walks, although I'd rather the walks be a lot longer, that they allow me to pull them, and that I can sniff more things, greet more people and dogs, and generally do what I want... but they won't let me.

I also enjoy tennis balls, and once I'm done playing with them, I peel off their soft outer covering.

I have a Fi collar that tracks my steps and my sleep too. Because I'm super competitive I'm trying to be the most active husky (currently I'm 797), but my near-term goal is to be the most active dog in the Balmer area (currently I'm #20).

I dig holes.

Chasing squirrels is another favorite past time. I will get them. I will.

Question 4: What is your favorite food?

Answer 4: ooooh so many to choose from. I LOVE cheese. Any type of cheese. I have my very own bag of cheese sticks for when I'm a good girl, or for when I need to "trade up", or when I daintily give them my paw to shake. Trade up is great, because I'll go out in the yard, and find a random thing (typically a large rock) and come back in, ploop it out on the kitchen floor and wait for my trade up. They keep my rocks on display on the kitchen table until the basket gets too full, then they empty it and I have to start over. When I was a puppy they used to carry treats in a pouch into the yard because I was constantly into things I wasn't supposed to chew/eat/play with. They don't do that any more, which is a shame. They just let me gnaw on any ol thing now.

I LOVE POPCORN! I know that sound, and I stand and wait at the microwave for it to get done.

Then Toast will sit on the couch and hand feed me pieces once it has cooled. What a cushy gig I have.

I love coffee! They leave coffee cups sitting around all the time, so... I figure they meant that I can drink it. I'm also very good at leaning into the kitchen sink and drinking out of cups in there. Once again, I'm compared to the "sink sucker Loki", but he couldn't have been such a freak if he, too, enjoyed a nice cup of cold sink coffee.

I like my kibbles. I'm glad I managed to convince them to get rid of that nasty, bland chicken kibble and on to the tasty sensitive stomach Pro Plan salmon kibble. 

Question 5: How old am I?

Answer: I will be 1 year old on January 21st. Time flies.

My Daily Walks

That title is totally misleading because if Toast and Bleeder aren't feeling up to it after their day at "work", then we don't go on a walk. They claim they work, but I'm a working breed, they aren't working, they sit in front of the computers all day, if they were working they would be pulling that desk with all of the computers on it for a 1,000 miles. How tired can you be sitting for 8 hours? I nap most of the day and I'm refreshed and ready to go, so should they.

But I digress: my daily walks are fun, I really love them. I get to sniff strange things squished into the street, pee mail at the hydrants and road signs, meet different people and dogs... although the dogs at this one house are awful, run free in the yard while their human says things like "Muffin, MUFFIN, come to mommy", while Muffin (who looks like a used wire brush) is in the middle of the street trying to look all big and ferocious for a poodle while I just wag my tail slowly and plot ways to shake that squeaky toy. Bleeder and Toast are not happy with that human, or Muffin.

But I digress again. In case you haven't noticed, I have a short attention span because I'm a busy puppy.

Toast and Bleeder have tried a few harnesses on me with varying degrees of success. For me, success means "comfortable enough to drag Bleeder down the street at will". Success to Toast and Bleeder clearly mean something else, so after 4 harnesses they finally settled on this very stylish and badass looking Goat Trail Tactical SSGLex Harness.

I went with black because it goes better with my furs. It came with some little back packs that can be used to carry your spare poo bags, a snack, a flashlight, small knife, air fryer, and a 67 chevy... ok, maybe not that big, but they are cute and fun to try to rip off your back, so apparently I have to wait until I'm "more mature" before they snap the backpacks on... all a part of my plan to never carry backpacks. I'm a working breed, not a mule.

There are several really horrible things about this harness:

1. The snaps are VERY secure.
2. The leash connectors are metal and VERY secure
3. It's very adjustable, which means it's very tight, but comfy, but I can't back out of it
4. It has a rubber handle near the neck, which means if a stupid squirrel runs out in front of me, it's easy for Bleeder or Toast to grab and control me, no flimsy fabric handle that twists and hurts their hands.
5. It's got leash connectors at the back and front.  THE FRONT? UGH, this is the worst because it keeps me from dragging them down the street. It keeps me from veering wildly back and forth as I drag them down the street. It keeps me from lunging at things as I drag them down the street. This part is the suckiest part of all.

So, I get nothing from Goat Trail for warning other huskies about this horrible harness, and now that I've mentioned all of the horrible things, I'm pretty sure your humans will go and buy one, and for that, I'm sorry... but it is comfy and stylish, and honestly if it gives Toast and Bleeder the confidence to take me on walks, then I guess I'll just have to make do.

My second form of exercise is chasing, gutting, and destroying these balls.

Immediately get on your human's computer and order about 50 of the large ones.  They are great fun. I have two in various stages of destruction. The rubber foam innards are not tasty, but are fun to rip out and leave all over the yard, the carpet, the kitchen tile, in your furs. Best of all, they bounce really high, the roll very fast, and they simulate chasing tasty squirrels if tasty squirrels were made of neon orange rubber foam covered balls... at least that's what I image squirrels taste like because I have yet to catch one, but I'm still young.

This is how I tell Bleeder that I want to play:

Get your lazy butt out here and play with me now!

While I know most of you aren't "fetchers", this is why you need more than one. Bleeder throws one ball, you chase it... run around the yard and shake it dead, then drop it, then Toast tosses the other while Bleeder gets the first ball, repeat. See! 

Seriously, put the stupid phone down and play with me

I also recommend this wheel of doom

It's pretty sturdy for a foam wheel of doom and I have yet to destroy it. It's not only fun to chase and chomp on, but it's a great tug of war toy as well. Get the large, you'll thank me later.

So, this is how I maintain my girlish figure, well, that and stalking squirrels and digging up the dead tree stump in the back yard because Toast and Bleeder were too cheap to get the stump grounded out when they had the tree cut down... that's ok, I'll do it for them and dig a lovely hole in the process. Working breed work is never done!

I'm also going to send a shout out to Peppy Pooch and their very tasty chewables, made in the USA.

Very nom, and Bleeder says they don't stink

The bully sticks are delish as well. I'd like to have them every days, but I'm told they are for special occasions... like when I'm spastic and won't leave Bleeder or Toast alone for "FIVE FRICKEN MINUTES OHMYGERD JUST LET ME DO THIS ONE THING CASEY" and that's when I get a tasty chewy.

So, just sharing some of my favorite things. I don't get anything for sharing, just want to let you all know what things to ask your humans for that I find fun. Sure, I still play with my Wicked Bone (after the wheel got glued back on), and with Wicked Ball. I have a box full of toys, and once in a while I go and pick out one I haven't played with in a while, plop it in the middle of the floor and repeat that until all of my toys are in the middle of the living room walk area... the goal of this game is to see which one (Bleeder or Toast) steps on a toy and yells, falls, or kicks it out of the way. When the kicking happens, I chase it and put it back somewhere else inconvenient to them (like on the couch where they'll sit on it). Fun times!

Have a fun day annoying your humans!

I'm Not Giving Any of My Thanks

 Apparently this week was some kind of festive, food-related holiday where everyone is supposed to give "thanks". Frankly, I don't share any of my stuff well. It's mine. Toast and Bleeder take stuff from me, but I'm not happy about it, so I'm taking my Thanks and I'm keeping it... except for the part about turkey, that part was tasty.

The best position to capture falling turkeys

Somehow my leaf piles disappeared. It was shortly after Bleeder went outside and the machine made loud noises and she came in smelling like my leaf pile and I suspect she did something nefarious to my leaf pile. That's ok, because we had a lot of wind and the leaves are back in the yard. It's only a matter of time before they converge into another pile.

Shortly after this photo, the wheel exploded and the leaves migrated south

It's also now colder, and I really like the colder, but Bleeder doesn't seem to like colder and she puts on a heavy coat, gloves, a hat, ridiculous looking boots and that means I can attack her. At least that's my interpretation of her outfit. It is hideous. She doesn't seem to like it when I dash through the yard, leap up and attempt to steal the silly hat. On the bright side, with all of that fluff she's wearing, she bleeds less.

Ridiculous boots and look at those pajama bottoms!

The squirrels continue to haunt me. They are devious. I also feel that they've called in reinforcements because first it was 1 squirrel, then 2. Just today there was 5 squirrels in the yard. It's as if they are challenging me. Challenge accepted, but I may need to change up my sneaky strategy. It doesn't help that every time EVERY TIME I get into a good position and lull the squirrels into a false sense of security further into the yard and away from the trees, Bleeder comes STOMPING out of the house yelling "CASEY, where are you???" at the top of her lungs. I glare at her... all that work... for nothing.

The latest thing are the sniffs along the side and back fence. I do not know what tasty being is behind that wall, but it smells delicious and I want to rip it to shreds. Bleeder has peered through the tiny slats and pronounces that "nothing is back there", but she doesn't have the 7 miles of nose sensors like I do. There is something there, and I want a piece of it in my mouth. Not sure if it travels along the fence line, but there's something at the back fence too. It's like a little superhighway for tasty things. Tonight Bleeder was trying to wear me out (because they didn't take me for a walk because something about "it's too cold, we're old") and was throwing the fun wheel thing, but I was too interested in the fence line. The wheel is fun, but I'd rather chase something small, and furry, and tasty. Bleeder had to get a leash and drag me back inside. Now she's muttering something about "great, it's probably a raccoon or skunk, or a myriad of other tasty things". Ok, she didn't say "tasty" she said "horrible", and something about ER vet visits, and possibly human ER visits as the past two years have been (in her words) a dumpster full of poop on fire and she wouldn't rule out getting into a fist fight with a chupacabra. I don't know what that is, but I'm sure it's tasty and fun to chase.

I realize that for a holiday where we're supposed to feel thankful about stuff, I've done a lot of ranting, so..

I'm thankful for my new chasey wheel.

I'm thankful for the delicious fence sniffs.

I'm thankful that I have tasty salmon foodables.

I'm thankful that Bleeder doesn't mind contorting into awkward positions so that I can stretch out on her side of the bed.

I'm thankful that Toast makes me toast and stays home with me even though I can't bother him during "core hours" even though I still bother him during "core hours".

I'm thankful that Toast and Bleeder hold a chewbone for me.

I'm thankful for my walks, but I would be more thankful if they didn't clip a leash to my front so I can't pull them both down the street like a sled.

I'm thankful for a comfy couch and window to watch the world

I'm thankful for the tasty... I mean wonderful deck where I can supervise the neighborhood.

I'm thankful for landing in such a cushy gig with such pushovers that I get cheese for every stick and rock I bring to the door.

I'm thankful... except when they put that gate on the "hot" counter so I can't get the foodables on it.

I'm thankful

Casey

The NO NO GET OFF Counter

 The people here have such strange rules. I have yet to figure them out.

1.) I'm not allowed in the bathroom when they are sitting on the water bowl. I don't see a problem with trying to squeeze behind the water bowl while they are just sitting on it because I need to investigate back there. Also, the roll of paper is tasty and alluring with a secret cardboard tasty surprise inside. I contend that people need to grow some fur so that they won't need that tasty paper for finishing up their business. 

2.) I'm not allowed in the bathroom when they are in the rain closet. My job is to clean the water from the rain closet. It's been my job since I got here. No, I do not like to be alone in the rain closet when it is raining in there. I also don't like to be in there when it's raining and the Bleeder is trying to wash the precious dirt from my feet after I dig a wonderfully deep hole in the one part of the yard they always fall into. BUT, if they are in the rain closet getting the rain closet all dirty, then I must shove half my body into the rain closet and lick the water, no matter where it's at, including on the people. It's the law. For some reason they don't like that, so I'm banished outside of the bathroom until they are done, and only then can I dutifully come in and perform my duties as a working breed.

3.) I can dig... just not near the fence, and if I do dig, don't dig where they'll fall into the holes. Ok, fine... but then when I do dig, they always fall in the holes, so who has the problem here? It's not my fault that the trees are shedding and covering up my holes, and my poo, and once again I harken back to my "I'll poo where I want I'm not limited by boundaries and traditions" rule. When I do dig, they insist on taking me into the bathroom to wipe my feet... which is prime time for "make the Bleeder bleed, and cover her in water".

4.) Speaking of shedding trees, Bleeder worked really hard to scrape up the leaves in an attempt to uncover my poo repository (little does she know, I've switched spots again), and carefully piled the leaves up into a neat little pile, so... leaves are fun.

I have two leaf piles now and I insist that Bleeder maintains them into proper piles for me to destroy.

5.) For some odd reason, the people call me "Stretch Armstrong".

When they put things on counters or in the sink... I need to investigate. It's what I do. I'm just assuming that if they put a cup of coffee in the sink, then that's mine. Dirty dishes need to be cleaned, right? So why do they yell at me for stretching up and licking them? There is one counter that they don't allow me on, and that's the thing called "The Stove". I never see them use it for anything other than meal prep, as they use the loud whirring box to cook their things (totally ruining perfectly good raw chicken and meats, but it does make for tasty french fries and my favorite "tots"). They say that this counter is "hot", but I've never experienced it being "hot" except for when cookies come out of the bottom part. They also use this counter to store things that aren't currently being consumed. I assume that these things are for me later on, and just want to help them out by being self sufficient and getting it myself. Apparently, no.

Last night I was in a particular "mood" even after being walked. They had a person deliver their food and there was a lot of it, so of course the rest is for me, right?

Wrong, apparently, because when I tried to reach it at the back of the black counter, they yelled at me and told me "no". I do not like the word "no". To me, "no" means try harder, but be sketchy about it. I wasn't sketchy enough and Bleeder (the gall) put the stupid scary blocker gate ON THE BLACK COUNTER!

They tell me it's hot, they tell me it's dangerous, and there they go putting a gate on it, clearly some form of violation going on here, so I felt the need to alert them to the danger:

They laughed!  LAUGHED at my dire warnings! I didn't get any tasty foodables, but I did get some cheese. I'd do just about anything for cheese. 

Tip of the day: If your people randomly smear peanut butter on a cabinet door, this only means they want to rob you of your nails. It is totally up to you if you want to submit in order to get the tasty peanut butter. Remember, the claws will grow back and at that point you can get revenge... and then more peanut butter.

I Am What I Am

 Frankly, I'm getting tired of being compared to the perfect huskies that came before me.

Nikki did this, Nova did that, Meeshka did this, Sam did that, Loki was... well frankly they tell me NOT to be like Loki, apparently he was annoying and strange, so when they tell me I'm being a Loki, that's an insult.

For instance: pooping. 

I didn't know there was some sort of rule about pooping, but there is. My predecessors had very strict poop regimens and apparently specific poo spots.

Sam pooped in the back, preferably out of everyone's view because he was a shy pooper, and he preferred pooping on things like sticks, leaf piles, a toy.

Meeshka pooped on the left side of the yard exclusively, and in a very specific spot. If that spot was not cleaned immediately, she threw a snit and clawed. I like the clawing part and may add it to my repertoire. 

Loki pooped in the right, back side of the yard. He would also pee on a pile of leaves and then lay on the pile of leaves. I guess this is why they tell me not to be like Loki.

I feel that the whole yard is my potty area, and the humans are there to clean up immediately after me, therefore there is no reason why I can't just poo where the mood strikes. Just because everyone else has a specific place, just like the humans prefer to do their business on the porcelain water bowl in the tiny shower room, doesn't mean I should be shackled to a specific part of the yard.

The problem is that sometimes Bleeder isn't jiffy quick with the pick-up. I just assumed that their whole purpose was to follow me around and cater to my every whim and clean up after me. Sometimes (and just wait until you hear this load), they open the door in the morning after I stomp them awake, and send me out into the yard, in the dark, all alone to do my morning ritual... and they don't immediately clean up! Then all I hear the rest of the day is "where is it?" as they search the yard for my poo. Well, had you done your job in the morning we wouldn't be playing Easter Egg hunt! How can I be expected to chase the balls you throw without worrying if they will roll in my poo? 

This is even more unacceptable now that the leaves are flinging themselves off the trees and camouflaging my daily leavings. Bleeder is all "out of sight, out of mind" until she slides through some, then somehow it's all my fault?

I continue to monitor the neighborhood happenings to make sure nothing sketchy happens. There's a lot of sketchy things going on around here and I don't know how Toast and Bleeder lived peacefully until my arrival. Neighbor kids walking in their own yard, dogs on both sides, and the back, a cat that taunts me out front, AND THOSE SQUIRRELS! I hate those squirrels.

Is that the cat, the dogs, or the squirrels?

What the heck is that neighbor kid doing over there? Is that even legal?

HEY! STUPID CAT! Get away from that car!!!!

One of these days....

Thankfully Toast and Bleeder seem to have a never ending pile of money to keep buying me therapy toys to rip to shreds to get out my frustrations over not catching any of those squirrels... or that cat... or the red dot that appears once in a while that I can never catch even if Toast claims I did. I didn't taste anything, there was no guts to eat... he's lying to me. But he does feed me pancakes once in a while so I'll give him a pass.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go poo in a new spot.

Exercise Routine

 Being a Working Breed, I'm told that I must ensure that I exercise sufficiently to maintain my sleek appearance, and tone my muscles.

Having owners that are old, feeble, bleedy, and gimpy, this has proven difficult. Sure, they take me on an evening walk, or as I like to call it: drag the humans through the neighborhood much to the enjoyment of all of the people in the neighborhood. We have quite the audience and frankly this parade is only missing some Shriners driving tiny cars precariously close to the feet of small children on the curbs.

My other exercise routines consist of:

• Chasing a climbing rope that Bleeder drags through the yard to simulate a small woodland creature, if small woodland creatures were made of climbing rope... not as tasty.
  
  
  
• Stalking and chasing the evil squirrels who would taste much better than climbing rope if only I could catch them. I'm honing my stalking skills and will soon taste victory... and squirrel.

• Playing chase and kill the balls. I have many balls, but I prefer the Chukit ball for biteability, the soccer ball because it has easy grip tabs, and the pink soccer balls because they're made of tasty foam stuff. I don't like the small balls except for the one that squeaks like my nemesis the squirrel. The only problem with chasing and killing balls is that I must rely on the feeble Toast and Bleeder to throw them. Bleeder is lazy. REALLY lazy, so lazy that I have to do all the work myself. To punish her, when I run up the stairs, I swing the ball around hard and hit her in the head with it.

I also like to dig. Apparently I'm not allowed to dig near the fence, or near the gate (whatever that is, as they refuse to show me what a gate does), or near the big tasty wooden things that hold the deck up. So, knowing the rules, I have a lovely large hole right at the bottom of the deck stairs that traps all manner of woodland creatures, except the only things I've caught are feeble Toast and Bleeder, who keep saying that I'm trying to kill them, and something about "I can't play with you if I have to use a walker" or something like that.

I must admit that I really like the new Salmon foodables that I'm given and am eating more and pooping better, except for those time when I can't help myself and pull a huge chunk of grass out of the yard and eat it.

I'm looking forward to cooler weather, and I keep trying to look in the fridge reflection to see if there is any indication of snow nose. I'm told that this Merryland state I live in doesn't get a lot of snow, but when it does get snow it's usually a LOT of snow, so I'm hoping for a LOT of snow, otherwise I may have to request a trip to where the snow is.

That's about it for now. I see Bleeder is on the computer, so now I must fling myself onto her lap and lick the keyboard.

Busy, Busy, Busy and Poop

 Hey, yeah I know, I haven't written in a bit, but I'm a puppy, I have things to do.

Job #1: Freak out Toast and Bleeder.

They seem overly concerned about my poop. Everything, to them, is about poop. I truly believe they determine the future of the entire world based on the consistency of my poop. Every time I poop, they examine it, sort through it, give it ratings, place it into a bag and put it into a container. According to them, it is not natural to emit a stream of fluid out of one's butt. 

This got me a ride in my fancy car to the vet. I have to say, I'm not overly thrilled with the destination, this place was marketed as a spa, and yet they do horrible things to me there... like clip my sharp talons. How can I possibly maintain a constant stream of Bleeder blood and scars with dulled nails? The band-aid industry relies upon my diligence!

My poo was put into a centrifuge and determined that bunny poo eating was not the cause of my gastric upset. It may have been the rubber band I ate and pooped out in pieces a few days ago, or it could be all of the grass that I pull up and shake the dirt off of and consume, roots and all. This dirt shaking is also the cause of having a goopy ear, because when one shakes dirt... it goes into an ear canal, which means I have to sit and allow Bleeder to shove her kleenex covered finger into my ear and then squirt goop into it for 7 days.

I also have a suspected soft muscle injury of my right leg, which Toast insists is due to my "klutziness". Sure, I've fallen off the couch a few times, I've fallen up and down the deck stairs more than once, and I even jumped up, got my foot caught in Bleeder's jacket pocket and plummeted to the ground... but I meant to do all of that.

No, I'm pretty sure I'm allowed to stand on the coffee table

But the poop, the poop is the mystery that was supposed to be solved with the tasty new sensitive stomach salmon foodables. But I'm a puppy, and puppies eat all things except their food, so I was put on a rather foul tasting pill that they tried to disguise in a tasty caramel (I bit into it once... um... yuck) and that gave me poops that made Toast and Bleeder celebrate! Imagine having such a horrible life that someone else's solid poop brings you joy? They really need to stop and rip up some grass and shake the dirt in their ears and enjoy life.

Once I was cleared of having parasites, our daily walks started up again (thankfully), and now I'm back to cruising the streets and licking at squished snakes, toads, frogs, and trying to get at that bloated dead squirrel up the block. My walk now includes a run at the beginning and end, but Bleeder (my main walker) runs way too slow, and doesn't appreciate my sudden veering and stopping to sniff at things. She claims I'm trying to kill her.  Well... 

Of course, the poop celebration was short lived, and the moment I went off the pills... squishy poop... with grass. So apparently I'm now forbidden to rip up big chunks of grass when I'm in the yard, and this is not fair.

They also expect me to eat my food from a bowl. I don't like that bowl. I didn't like my last bowl. I don't like any of the bowls except for the small human bowl that Bleeder fills with a small amount of kibble, then replenishes when I've completed that bowl. I literally have them feeding me by hand. I'm a genius.

Until Bleeder has declared that I'll either eat, or don't eat, but if I don't eat that doesn't mean I'm allowed to eat the stuff in the yard instead, and has threatened a leash yard restriction. There are so many stupid rules in this house.

Here's one: I'm not allowed to attack them in bed at bed time.

Seriously, that's a rule here!

I'm not allowed to sneak into their "spot" and then play fight them for the spot! Ridiculousness!

They've instituted a "no play on the bed" rule and have gotten nuclear with the spray bottle of water... which I HATE! 

So, yeah, lots of poop and rules.

On the bright side, I'm getting better at squirrel stalking.

I also got a new bed, some Casper thing. It's very comfortable, so I don't sleep on it, but when I do, I always observe proper husky sleeping positions.

I also have a fun new toy called a Crinkit. Great fun and makes crinkly noises. I have yet to defeat it.

This is my flower. It rolls and I attack it.

Now if you excuse me, I have to watch out for more squirrels.

Don't Believe Everything You See

 Another week of intensive human training has passed and I'm not too sure these humans can be trained, they seem increasingly dumber by the day. Of course they have their excuses:

• Sleep deprived
• Caffeine deprived
• They are old
• They are out of shape
• One bleeds if you look at her wrong
• The other claims a myriad of physical issues
• They both have things called jobs, which takes precious time away from me
• There's a storm with lightening and can't walk me
• They don't appreciate my 5 foot vertical leaping
• They don't like it when I stomp on them in bed (Toast is really sensitive about this part)
• They no longer allow me to ricochet off the new bed (What the fluff!?)
• Instead of getting me a friend to play with, I have to pretend to be afraid of a leaf bag that Bleeder chases me and rattles... so lame. She can't even run that fast.

One of the exercises I do enjoy is the daily walk. I have to wait until 6pm to go, and I try to get them to go earlier, but something about that time being the perfect time to wear me out for them to go to bed and forego the usual stomping, cover diving, and gnawing routine I've honed. 

The biggest news is that since I was an itty, bitty, adorable puppy, I've had some stomach upset. It usually only happens at the pre-bed poo time, but it's a bit... runny. The humans have tried all manner of potions to solve the issue. Toast suggested that it was all of the yard stuff I eat on my evening yard duty time when I'm not stalking that stupid dove that trespasses in my yard. I can't help it, I love vines, and odd dirt, the occasional stick, some leaves, bugs, and I like to chew on rocks (but I don't eat rocks, I only gather rocks because they pay me in treats to bring them rocks, or something... working breed people!)

Bleeder had noticed that I'm not very fond of the chicken food I've been on since arriving here. Sure, they tried to dress it up... with more gravy chicken stuff, but seriously... I don't like chicken. It's not very exciting. Bleeder hit up her friends (she calls them friends, but frankly I think they're just voices in her head) and discovered that a lot of her "friends" feed this thing called Pro Plan Salmon and Rice for sensitive stomach and skin. I'm sensitive. I like salmon. I try to grab it off Toast and Bleeder's plates when they eat it... flaunting it in front of me when I'm faced with a bowl of bland icky kibble.

Lo and behold a large bag of it showed up. Ok, Bleeder went out and hunted one down and carried it in the house a few days ago. She placed it inside a bin and some spilled out. I sampled it. It was tasty! I wanted more. Bleeder said that I had to transition, so only a bit at a time with increasing amounts for the next 7 days. She didn't want my stomach to become upset. Seriously? I'm already squirting the chicken stuff out in the evening, how worse could it get, just give me the whole bin!

I'll just nap here until you open the bin, thank you very much

So, she started to give me the food, but it's in dribs and drabs and MIXED IN WITH THE ICKY CHICKEN!

So, I went on strike until the situation was resolved.

I refuse to eat until this situation is resolved.

I lasted until the evening. I'm actually not a breakfast girl, and since I don't eat breakfast, I can snack through the day, or just have it for lunch... I'll show them.

When I discovered that they were putting the kibbles into my kongs as "treats", well, I threw a snit so enormous...

I'm just gonna donut until my demands are met

So, I have to deal with all of that in a weakened state.

Feeling sorry for me, Toast suggested that they get one of those calming, cozy couch covers as seen on the socials. It has a little blanket attached to three bolsters and is supposed to the the WORLD'S MOST COMFORTABLEST, CALMING BED EVVVVVVVVEEEERRRRRRRRRRR!

So it arrived. I refused to lay on it. It was a bit silly. They put it on the bed where my favorite pillow was supposed to be, so I slept on Bleeders legs. Something about not having blood flow to her extremities (I mean come on, like there's any blood left in that carcass of hers?), and it was determined to stay on the couch... where I would refuse to lay in it.

At one point it was tossed on the floor and GAME ON! It then became a wonderful thing to play with, chew on, and hump. Yep, I'm the boss of all stuffies here and if a stuffy comes into the house, it will be humped and dominated. I'm a red queen after all.

After I made sure I had dominated the couch cover, I did snuggle with it...

... and then ripped it to shreds. I think it went to the same farm as all of the other stuffies before it.

So, that's about it for now.

Casey

Training Needs More Work

 I have been thwarted in my attempts to train these people.

While I understand they are experienced Northern Breed companions, I'm pretty sure they have never experienced my sheer intensity, drive, and cunning ability to create mayhem.

I hear it all the time: 

• Our other dogs didn't eat everything in the yard
• Our other dogs didn't leap up 5 foot high and try to grab the hood on our jackets
• Our other dogs picked specific poo spots and didn't go crop dusting around on the run
• Our other dogs liked their food
• Our other dogs didn't eat the deck
• Out other dogs didn't stomp on us at night after going for walks and then playing soccer in the back yard
• Our other dogs sang the song of their people and all you do is yap. Oh wait, Loki yapped... DON'T BE A LOKI
• Our other dogs didn't nose slam us in the... oh wait, they did, never mind
• Our other dogs loved to play with boxes and packing paper, what is wrong with you???

I really don't appreciate this crinkly stuff around my neck thank you very much

 I'd like to point out that I have NOT chewed anyone shoes, I have not destroyed any books, journals, planners, pens, computers, wires... ok, fine, I may have sampled the coffee table a bit, but not lately and it only added a rustic patina which is worth thousands, and I may have gnawed that wooden filing cabinet a little and no, you can't put the pull knobs back on because those were especially tasty, but still... and I have tore up the wall any more, mainly because you put a gate panel over it, and I've barely even sniffed the carpet in those 2 or 3 spots in over a month... thanks to the area rugs on top of them... but I've been so good lately.

So, up until a while ago, I've been learning all of the "NO" things, but I turned that around to my advantage. The humans are so simple that I've turned "NO" into a treat opportunity.

NO ROCKS... means I get a treat for spitting out my rock, and frankly there are millions of rocks in that back yard so I'm going to be treated very well.

OMFINGGGETOFFME means I get to play with the flailing arms as I leap as high as I can and pinch whatever fat is available.

LEAVEMYFOODALONE means I get a tasty kong treat inside my crate while the humans eat.

WTFISWRONGWITHYOU means that I'll get to run around the yard with whatever strange plant thing with long roots that I've pulled out of the ground until I get tired and then I'll get a treat when I spit it out, or eat it, whichever comes first, it's a win-win.

CASEYGETINYOURSPOT happens at bed time when Toast tries to get into his spot and I steal it and refuse to move. This has started the bedtime treat ritual where Bleeder holds my attention with treats until Toast gets into bed... then I run over and steal Bleeder's spot, but she's pretty ruthless when it comes to bed spots, so I move pretty quickly out of the way.

Nobody here, just get into bed so I can pinch your fat.

That all changed up though. There are a lot less "NO" now. I'm getting a lot of "GOOD GIRL" and treats for doing ABSOLUTELY NOTHING!  Seriously! I can just be laying on the couch watching the neighbors and out of the blue, there's a good girl and a treat! If I'm laying on the floor while Bleeder plays her bass, I get a good girl and treat. When I'm outside and leap on them, they turn their backs, wait for me to get in front of them, they tell me to sit, then I get a treat when I do.

If I'm snorfling for rocks or vines, or whatever, they offer me a treat instead, especially if I come running over and sit. Of course I can't help myself with a little flourish by running, leaping up and sitting, just because I'm not a shill for treats at all.

If I'm REALLY intent on doing evil, they tell me Peanut Butter Cookie, and who can resist that. I have my own bin of cookies.

Part of my new responsibilities are: customs agent. No packages can pass until fully inspected.

Guarding the yard from that stupid dove that keeps landing and strutting around like it owns the place.

Best of all, our new partnership of yes means that I can eat my food where it is most convenient for me. I don't like being in the kitchen all by myself, sometimes I like to watch tv and eat or lay near the air vent and snack.

I'm kinda liking the new "yes" phase, and the humans seem less stressed when we all cooperate and get what we want. As a matter of fact, today I've been promised a new bed cushion and something called "Bully Bones", as they want me to use my teeth for good and not evil.

Casey

Woo Is Me

 Bleeder and Toast are no fun.

They've thrown away all of my fluffy toys and my stringy toys because something about I'm not supposed to eat them.

Look, I have centuries of my wild kin built into my DNA and I know full well that when you kill your prey, you eat it, whether it be that bird that keeps taunting me in the yard and has since "disappeared" (and I swear, I don't know where all of those feathers came from, you've inspected my poo Bleeder, there is no evidence I had anything to do with it), or an annoying squeaky toy filled with fluff, or that tasty rug tug toy.

So I LITERALLY do not have anything to play with now

Nothing at all.

If only I had something to play with...

They also buy me things that spontaneously explode.

Wicked Bone #2 R.I.Pieces.

They refuse to hold my chew bones.

They also sneak around and eat MY peanut butter cookies!

I can hear you chewing in there Bleeder!!!

On the bright side, it is getting MUCH cooler outside, so it's nicer to sit on the deck and watch things like airplanes and honky geese.

Plus I can get my frisky on

Bleeder spent some time yesterday clearing out all of the clutter from under the deck because somepuppy was investigating things that "she shouldn't be getting into"... pffft.

Since I have no toys or nothing to chew on, I've taken to finding tasty rocks to gnaw on, which apparently is not acceptable to Toast and Bleeder, so they did build me a nice rock repository... except they blocked it off with chicken wire and wheel barrow walls.  What the fluff?

The good news is that there is lovely dirt under there that is ripe for digging, and so I do, thank you very much.

Today, I'm told, we'll be doing our daily walk in a very exciting new place. I really enjoy our evening neighborhood strolls, as I get to sniff new things, meet new puppies, and also poop in a new yard every time... Toast is not happy about this, as he's poo picker-upper, and for some reason in the evening, my poo is not exactly as firm as usual... hehehe.

Casey.