Sunday, October 24, 2021

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.

Monday, October 11, 2021

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.