Saturday, April 30, 2022

Laundry Cookie

 I'm a working breed, but I don't for free you know.

So each Friday, Bleeder announces "laundry time", pulls the bag of glorious, perfectly fine stinky clothes (that don't match) and together we go downstairs and then she dumps the bag into the washer (she does NOT separate anything), tosses soapy stuff in the little drawer, and turns it on. 

Meanwhile, it is my duty to sniff around, find things I'm not supposed to sniff, or eat and get glared at and told "NO". Then I go into the music room and sniff, or try to eat things I'm not supposed to sniff or eat (I see you tasty Fender Bass), and get told "NO" again. Once we get past that routine, I run upstairs and wait patiently for slow Bleeder to get up there, then I demand payment for my work in the form of a laundry cookie.

It's actually a "Blue Dog Bakery" cookie (just get the 3lb size). Tasty. She also breaks them up and stuffs them in my little balls to keep me occupied when I'm being too... oh, what's the phrase she uses... "Pain in the butt". 

I don't mind Laundry Duty, as my responsibilities are very minimal, but the rewards are great. Plus I get a change of scenery by going downstairs and sniffing things.

When the laundry is all done, that's where the real work comes in. Apparently the clothes need to be hung up, or folded.

As Bleeder is lazy and just can't be bothered with details, she typically leaves the clean clothes shoved in a basket downstairs over night, curses as she brings them up, and then dumps the basket on the bed to sort, and fold/hang.

This is where my hard work comes in... as I am required to lay on these clothes. Yep, you heard that right. REQUIRED. It seems that the warmth of my body will help iron out the wrinkles from the clothes sitting in a basket overnight. Plus, the clothes are clean, therefore I must deposit my furs on them again. I simply cannot have my humans walking around without furs.

Give me another 5 minutes, this shirt is really wrinkly

Ya know, perhaps if you hung like colors together, you wouldn't look like a dork

After the laundry is all folded and crammed into drawers, we go out and play.

Well, you gonna come take this? Wheel of Doom doesn't throw itself.

Then I'll have my lunch.

Please tell the chef that I really like the pizza cheese better than the cheddar

Then it's onto the deck for some serious judging.

You just did laundry, those sleepy pants are getting so gamey I may roll on them

I got brushed today. I don't mind. I lay there and Bleeder feeds me little training treats while she steals my floof. It feels really nice and I'd lay there for nithing, but don't tell her that, I also want the treats.

It's supposed to rain tomorrow. I'm looking forward to getting treats for getting dried off.

Sunday, April 24, 2022

What's Happening

 Hey everyone,

It's been the usual around here, I mean other than I was driven to the vet for my annual shots and the technicians RIPPED my precious claws off. Fine, they just trimmed them, but it was traumatic. I didn't feel it necessary to scream bloody murder though. The technicians are nice and give me treats.

Here I am a year ago waiting for my appointment

'Scuse me, am I next? I have places to be

Here I was the other day

Ahem, Can we hurry this up? I have places to be

You can see, I've grown a bit, and I'm floofier. Why two leashes? Well I have a collar leash and a harness leash because my owners are feeble and need some form of braking system to keep me from dragging them into a busy highway.

Now that the weather is getting nicer, I spend my time gutting my favorite ball on the deck.


It's getting just perfect, but Bleeder insisted on getting me two others that are fun for chasing, but when it comes to a good rage chew, you can't beat the gutted ball.


Toast had to put on his pants the other day and leave all day. I do not like this. 

Toast! I know you're putting pants on, STOP THAT!

Although I'm fine in my crate, I do demand some looking out the window time, and some lounging on the deck snooping on the neighbors time, and then undivided attention time, and throw this ball for me time, so this better be a one time thing (I'm told it is not, and will be more frequent).

Hey, I just realized that you have probably been sitting at your computer, or staring at your phone on the toilet (like Bleeder does, and frankly nobody needs that much time to poop) so you need to get up and get a GOOD STRETCH in... ready...


That's better. Now where was I?

Tip of the day: get your human to put a pillow on their lap and then lounge on them. Make sure you shove your front feet into their chest forcefully. They really like that. Very comfy.


Make sure the pupparazzi isn't lurking during your private Toast time... yell at them.


Yesterday was very nice, so Toast and Bleeder came out to sit on the deck with me, watch the stupid squirrels, judge the yappy neighbor dogs, swat at random BEES DON'T EAT THE BEES, and relax.


It was very peaceful and relaxing.


Until Bleeder discovered something.


She started stealing my floof. MY FLOOF! Something about "plucking season". I cultivated that floof for a reason and now she's just randomly pulling my tufts out.

She also mentioned something about "combing", and I'm sure blood will flow.



Saturday, April 16, 2022

Wayback Machine - The Wedding

 Well everyone, Bleeder suggested that since my predecessors lived in a time before the interwebs, that I spend some time learning about them and giving them some space on the blog. I'm all about sharing, just as long as I get some cheese in trade, so... FINE!

Remember, this all happened 34 years ago (that's 238 in dog years), so Bleeder's recollection may be a bit... foggy.

Bleeder and Toast were dating and talking of marriage. Toast was a United States Marine, and Bleeder had recently been honorably discharged from the United States Air Force, (and how they met is another bizarre story for another time) and got a cozy ground floor 1 bedroom apartment, and as a wedding gift to Toast, an adorable Siberian Husky named Nikki.


All they wanted was a quick civil ceremony with a reception of close friends, but there was a bit of an issue with setting a date for the wedding.

  1. Toast's parents wanted to fly across the states from the West Coast to attend the wedding. We told them we would let them know a date. Bleeder's parents were all "well, just let us know, or not, whatever".
  2. The USMC was undergoing an Inspector General (IG) inspection and didn't want any more paperwork to deal with, so they politely asked (ordered) him not to get married until after the IG inspection was completed.
Another detail was, if we didn't get married by the 15th, we couldn't file the paperwork and not get the Basic Allowance for Quarters (BAQ) which would pay the rent. So people always ask "why did they pick the 14th of April?" Well, they didn't, that just happens to be the day the IG inspection completed. So around 2pm it was done, so there was rushing around to get dressed up, gathering of witnesses and a hurried dash to the Annapolis courthouse before it closed to officially file the paperwork they had already pre-filed.

Bleeder grabbed the only dress she owned, Toast got into all his USMC finery and off they went, thankfully before closing time. They sauntered through the court house through the line of convicts in hand cuffs, and had to wait for the couple dressed in leather, and then it was their turn.


They both laughed at the "for richer or poorer" part because how much poorer could they get? About the only thing they had in the fridge was some hamburger, an onion, and some condiments.

Then it was a quick stop at the liquor store to pick up a keg (because Bleeder and Toast are all about swanky) and back to the apartment to prepare for the guests. The guests pretty much consisted of a LOT of Marines ready to celebrate the end of the IG inspection... oh, and that wedding thing, and a few USAF friends.

Nikki had a ball with all of her new friends, but the party was nearly de-railed when it was announced that something was wrong with the keg. People kept having to pump it, and they thought the hose had a leak or something, but then they noticed that once it got pumped up, a certain devious husky would walk up to it, nuzzle the dispenser, and drink the beer that came out. By this time she was sloppy drunk, dancing with a lamp shade on her head, and telling everyone that she loved them.

While they were dealing with drunk puppy, the phone rang and a high ranking Marine answered the phone, said "he can't come to the phone right now, he just F'ng got married" and hung up. Remember Issue #1 above? 

Yep, Toast's mother had called... before Toast could call her back, the phone rang again and the high ranking Marine yelled "STFU his mother's on the phone" for ALL to hear... including Toast's mother... so that's how they found out about our marriage (off to a great start there). So there was THAT conversation.

Meanwhile the guests were passing around the onion to take a bite of, and Bleeder and Toast have no idea what happened to the hamburger and condiments. Despite their attempts to keep the Nikki lush away from drinks, she soon found that if she looked adorable, the guests would put their cups on the floor to pet her and... when they found her staggering around looking for her car keys proclaiming she was fine to drive, they put her in her crate to sleep it off.

The party went on through the night, only one neighbor came to complain about the noise but when faced with an apartment filled with Marines, they congratulated the happy couple and left.

The next morning Nikki walked around sullenly wearing sunglasses, and begging Toast and Bleeder to "keep it down". By noon she was back to her crazy self.

She still loved a good beer now and then, but only in moderation.










Sunday, April 03, 2022

What's in a Name

 Toast and Bleeder had a small list of names for me before they met me. After they met me, they didn't feel like any of them fit, so it was on a bathroom break at a Walmart on their drive home that they came up with Casey, and that's what I'm called (thankfully I'm not named Walmart)... except I'm never actually called Casey unless they are introducing me to someone. "This is Casey". 

At home during my formative year I've been called:

Get out of there

No

STOP THAT

NONONONO ABSOLUTELY NOT

DROPIT

what is in your mouth

get out of the sink

don't eat that

that's not yours

SERIOUSLY?SERIOUSLY?

and my personal favorite: I JUST let you out!

Now that I've matured into a regal, perfectly behaved Siberian Husky... I'm still called all of those things, but now I have some new, more adult names.

Princess Squishy Face. This name came about because my predecessor, Loki, would have a temper tantrum and require Toast or Bleeder to stroke his cheeks (a maneuver known as "sleepy cheeks") to calm him down. I don't like "sleepy cheeks". What I do like is to have my forehead smooshed along with a front of ear scratchy motion. Oh yeah, that's the thing. I can sit there all day for squishy face.

Stompy Dog. Hey, I can't help it if Toast and Bleeder are heavy sleepers, and when a pup has to go out, they gotta go out, even at 0330. So..

If they still won't get up, then a well placed tongue in their ear canal usually propels them out of bed quickly. If THAT doesn't work, I just jump off the bed and give them a 5 count to leap out of bed and let me out because I told you I had to go out, and I've proven that when I gotta go, I'm gonna go, house training be damned, my bladder is only so large.

I'm also quite stompy on the couch because if I want to be where you are sitting, then I'm gonna sit there, and that seems to be when I cause the most band-aids for Bleeder. Something about my sharp talons and her old ginger skin. I looked it up, and apparently it's called "senile purpura", which either means she's old and it's not my fault, or it is caused by old cats, and once again: not my fault. To be honest, she can cut and bruise herself doing the most mundane daily tasks, so I'm just being used to cover for her abject clumsiness.

This week, I'm told, I will be transitioning to big girl food. They've given me a tiny bit of it already to try out and I'm not too sure about it. The kibbles are bigger, which require chewing. I don't know if I can commit to that kind of inconvenience, so we'll see how that works out.

Meanwhile, it is Sunday, which means

You'd better turn those pancakes Toast

Don't listen to Bleeder, you can feed me while you eat, not make me wait until the end.

Casey