Saturday, August 27, 2022

The Art of Eating

 I like routine.

My handlers are hell bent on not being routine because they say that routines make you complacent and then when something different happens and the routine is ruined, then you feel stressed.

There is an entire month of difference and it is named UGHust.

Nothing has been routine since this month started, and all of this change in routine, different people coming in, the handlers are stressing about things, coming and going, people coming and going, one leaves, the other stays, they both leave, they both come back, the new loud alarm thing. I'm actually the ONLY one dealing well with all of this difference in routine.

Let me know when you're done freaking out, I'll be out here

I had JUST trained Bleeder to stuff my pink bone with cheeses and goodies and tasties (oh my) so I would be preoccupied for 5 minutes and give her some peace and quiet and all of that just POOF went away just because I would forego my dinner to make room for all of the treats. 

I know that I need to watch my figure, and stalking only takes up so many calories and steps, so I thought it was only fair that I trade out my kibble portion for the cheese bone treats. My handlers did not see it the same way. They seem to think that I NEEDED to eat my kibble BEFORE I got my cheese treats. OH COME ON, I've seen Bleeder eat cheesecake for breakfast (and not share), so don't give me that whole you. have to eat your dinner before dessert spiel.

My kibble strike went on for 2 days. To make up for not eating, I was grazing in the yard and I may have eaten too much grass and when my poo got a bit... grassy, the Handlers gave me tasty canned salmon food mixed with rice and warm water. That was nice. What wasn't nice was no treats. None. My tasty crate kong was full of... KIBBLE.

Wasting away... in my crate

I found another supplement that came from a box in the bedroom called "nose candy". These pillowy little sheets in snack sizes are easily dispensed, shredded, and consumed. I feel that it's just a fiber supplement. The Handlers think that it's not for eating, but for blowing their nose in and disposing.

Anyway, I may have snacked on a few too many, and my poo was a bit thick. Bleeder called it Pooper Mache and threatened to display it as a sculpture. From then on, they've hidden those treat dispensers. Unfortunately this was also an issue with my predecessors, so my Handlers know all of the tricks already. So unfair. I need to up my game.

Since I was on a strict dog food only diet for the next few days, I felt it only fair that I help them to lose a few pounds. If I can't share with them, they can't have anything. So I blockaded the kitchen and fridge.

Gotta pay the snax tax before you can enter

Finally I got so hungry that I ate the plain kibble with cheese sprinkle and an amazing thing happened... I got dessert cheese bone! 

Then I ate my breakfast bowl clean and I got bread from Toast

I LOVE bread. I love bread more than cheese. I KNOW, RIGHT?!?!?! Especially the bread called baguette. It's chewy and crunchy and tasty!

So, what have I learned this month so far?

1.) I have to eat my kibble in order to get tasty treats. This sucks.

2.) Baguette is tasty, so I'll choke down my kibble if I get more of that.

3.) Bleeder can't match clothes for instance, she mainly wears gray and black outfits, but when she tries other colors she looks like a parade float has exploded. for instance:

She bought these protective sleeve things for yard work and times when I'm a bit rambunctious and in the clawing mood because I can just look at her and make her bleed or bruise. I pointed out something quite obvious... there is nothing in her closet that matches these horrific things. She'll wear them anyway. 

They say dogs are color blind...

Sunday, August 21, 2022

What a Wacky Two Weeks

 Hey, yes, I'm still here, but my computer hasn't been so I couldn't blog.

This has been a wacky two weeks here in my house. Lightning struck something near us (it blowed up our neighbor's tree bark), and we had a pretty sparkly blue light show on the computer hub under the tv.

From there on, it's been nothing but non-stop fixing everything that got blowed up in the house and that required strangers coming in to fix or replace various and sundry things, and more scheduled for later.

My computer went to the shop and got picked up yesterday. Bleeder had to reinstall things and update things, and tweak things, and then spent time on the socials and I glared at her and reminded her it was blog time, so she's sitting on the couch pouting now.

One of the things that blowed up was the security system, so that got replaced and new and improved things. One of the new and improved things was the way that it announced that it was being armed. 

The old one just beeped a lot and then beeped faster and then stopped. That was fine.

The new one SCREECHES AND BEEPS AND FLASHES AND SCREAMS, WHOOPS, HOLLERS and that REALLY scared the crap out of me and I sang the song of my people. Thankfully Bleeder and Toast can monitor me, saw what happened and stopped the horrible cacophony and then I heard Bleeder calling to me from the ceiling that it was ok, and I was fine. I calmed down quickly and ate my kong goodie, but couldn't help thinking "why is Bleeder on the roof?" When only Toast came home, I made sure to stick real close to him in case that racket started again.

They have come and gone a few times since then and it hasn't made that noise again, so I'm getting more relaxed about the whole thing. I'm still miffed that I can't snoopervise the repair people though.

Bleeder's truck was in the shop since forever, and she was in a snit of epic proportions about that. When she finally got it back she was so happy and I wanted to celebrate its return with her, and I may have gotten a bit carried away and accidentally clawed her arm.

 I swear, she's got skin like wet toilet paper, I barely touched her. That may or may not have had anything to do with them taking me to go get my nails trimmed. They claim they made the appointment a week ago, but it's a bit too coincidental. Of course, as we came out of the house, Bleeder got her right index finger caught on the leash and it sawed off a big chunk of skin near the nail. Normally she carries a bag of bandaids, but since we were just running to the vet, she had to use her jeans. She's so embarrassing when we go out. Not only can't she match clothes, but there's usually blood, stains, and food on them.

Naturally I was adorable and well behaved at the vet, and they easily clipped my nails without a struggle or blood letting and then pranced back into the waiting room. I asked them to leave one dew claw with a sharp bit... just for special occasions, like when the existing 6 bandaids get healed and removed.

Right now I'm on day 2 of "I refuse to eat my kibble, please give me cheese or just canned food instead" strike. I can tell by the breakfast kibble still in my bowl and no treats that my kibble strike will be coming to an end quickly. 

That's about it for now. I continue to love the wonky dog door. Oh right, that's another thing that needs fixed because it was installed wrong and we're waiting for that to get fixed, but my part works perfectly... and I can easily bring in live cicadas!

Sunday, August 07, 2022

Must I Do Everything

 I know I'm a working breed and all, but the chores around here keep piling up.

Neighborhood watch


Storm tracker

Yep, that's a storm
Food taster

That banana looks dangerous, better give me some to test

Explaining tv shows to Toast (and eating waffles)

This is the part where it eats her brains

Fashion consultant for Bleeder

You look absolutely ridiculous

Tech support assistant

Look, I said control shift delete now let's go play

Now... now I'm supposed to let myself in and out with my new dog door.

At first they gave me treats for going out and then coming back in, which I felt was only fair, since I'm now doing all of the work. Lazy humans. Can't even be bothered to get up and let me out any more, I have to do it.

Then the treats just stopped. No incentive to go in, or go out.

What? No cheese for coming in?

There are a lot of advantages to being free to come and go as I please. When it's roasting hot outside and they want me to play, but I don't want to play, I just run inside. Let them stand out there and sweat and get eaten by mosquitos.

They seem happy that I no longer need to fling my entire body on the glass door to signal my desire to come inside... or go outside. I still alert them that I'm about to go outside by zooming through the house and then jumping on the coat door. I've done that since I was a puppy because my leash hung there, and I would leap up and grab it to go out. I like to continue traditions (like clawing Bleeder, it's a two bandaid week here).

I can also bring in all manner of tasty chewable things. I particularly like fallen branches with leaves, and my all time favorite: rotted branches, which I then break up and litter the living room floor with the debris. Then the vacuum comes out and it's zoomy time. I have not (yet) brought in anything still alive, but it's just a matter of time. There is a toad in the yard that I'm looking for, and it would be cool to drag in one of the Nope Ropes.

I did bring in one of my favorite yard balls. It's a full yard ball, soon to be half ball, quarter ball, no ball.

When the weather is cooler in the evening, I take it back outside and once again... yet another chore, I have to heave it down the deck stairs myself and chase after it.

As far as I can tell, the only reason I need the humans is to feed me... oh wait, I have an automated feeder, so my only requirement is an automated canned food opener and I could fire my staff and be just fine and dandy.

Ok, fine, they do other things, but seriously, not a lot.