A Day in the Life

 Good Morning everyone,

I certainly hope you had a restful weekend and were awaken by the gentle kisses of a loved one, or as the Bleeder puts it: "GET YOUR TONGUE OUT OF MY EAR, IT'S ONLY 4a.m.!!!"

Back when I first arrived here, I would not take that for a suitable answer, and would proceed to stomp on the Bleeder and Toast, and also pull on Bleeder's hair, which may explain why she's had most of her hair chopped off and now looks like a 14 year old boy, but that's just my opinion.

Since my operation recovery, they just open the door in the mornings and let me free range in the yard. No more "OMG DON'T EAT THAT!" or "STOP LICKING THAT TOAD" (please note, the toads in Maryland are not poisonous, but they don't exactly taste good). I can eat all of the sticks I want, and leaves, and strange things that fall from the sky and Bleeder just sits there, sipping coffee and muttering "don't blame me if you die". (Also please note: Bleeder and Toast have gone to great lengths to keep me from getting something horrible, so stop dialing the SPCA and put down the phone).

I'm a grazer. I love grass. Despite the attempts of Bleeder and Toast to grow a luscious yard of Better Homes and Gardens worthy yard, I have taken it upon myself to eat it all.

During the week, there is a routine where I get crated, but Toast is working from home, so I nap most of the day (which he calls "core hours") and then wait for Bleeder to get home so we can play. Unfortunately it has been so hot (how hot is it?) that my delicious grass is crunchy, and Bleeder sweats through her clothes and pretty much refuses to run around the yard and chase me with the reusable leaf bag, which is great fun.

On the weekends it is nothing but nonstop fun. They bought me a bell to ring when I want to go out. Originally, I had to tell them by leaping up and clawing my way down the coat closet door (because that's where my leash used to hang), which was strenuous. Now all I have to do is walk to the kitchen door and jingle the bells... which I do often. A lot of the time I come in, wait for them to get settled, then ring the bells. Great fun! 

They did try to get those voice recorded buttons that you see snooty poodles using to "communicate" with their humans. Bleeder recorded herself saying "go outside"... put the button on the floor, and I ran out the battery batting that sucker around the kitchen and dancing. So now I have bells hanging on the wall.

I chew things. Everything. I especially love to chew squeaky toys, which is why I don't have any squeaky toys any more... something about "I'm not supposed to EAT the fluff". My pull ropes were taken away after I pooped a lovely string poo. Now I'm only allowed to have things that I can't eat, like chew bones, kongs, and some fire hose toys that make a pathetic honking noise and are not fun to chew or play with. I do have a myriad of balls, and the trusty soccer ball, while chewed, still gets thrown, to my happiness.

Here is how you announce that you are about to pounce on the occupant on the other side of the couch:

I'm not a fan of the camera... at all.

Here is how you sleep so that you get Bleeder's undivided attention and her telling you that you are going to fall off the couch over and over until you fall off the couch. You then blame Bleeder for falling off the couch:

Despite the heat, I rather enjoy cooking on the deck in the sweltering heat.

Then I come inside and air out.

I've been challenged to defeat the evil "Simple Human Butterfly Trash can". They claim that no husky has ever figured out the puzzle, and I'm up for that challenge.

In the evenings, when it cools down, Bleeder and Toast put their pants on and take me for lovely walks through the neighborhood. I love the new sights and sniffs, and there's always some great pee mail to read along the way at the fire hydrant. I'm always finding new things to carry with me until they make me spit it out, like the interesting orange peel, the plastic container, the dead thing in the middle of the road...

I'm a simple girl with simple needs and one of those needs is that prior to retiring to bed, I must have my 2nd poo or else I play trampoline and ricochet bitey face on the new expensive bed. I've made myself very clear on this matter, and yet the humans try to circumvent the routine and pay for it dearly by having to put pants on again and chase me around the yard with the leaf bag until such time that I am ready to make my deposit. If we are on a walk, that means I make my deposits right on the road... I feel this is polite, as I don't want to poo on perfectly tasty grass.

So, that's about it. A simple life for a glamorous husky.