Oh no! More Snow!

If it snows anymore, where are they going to put it? I can't find my poop anywhere.

Squirrel Appreciation Day

In honor of squirrel appreciation day, I have written a poem.

Oh, how I love

To watch the squirrels

Climbing up trees

Dancing through myrtle

Swinging on bird feeders

Eating corn and seed

Stuffing their cheeks

 Whenever they feed

At night they stalk

The garden delights

Stealing the veggies

Without a fright

They dig up the bulbs

And leave holes in the yard

Hide in the attic

When winter is hard

And yet each day

Though I try very hard

I cannot catch one

Invading my yard

I dream each night

Chasing that rat

But then I wake up

All I caught was a nap

Why I chase my tail...

You may just wonder
Why I chase my tail
Running around in circles
My paws fling and flail
Is it a little flea
Having me for lunch
Or am I just bored
Looking for a munch
Maybe I am crazy
You’ve seen me do weird things
Barking at the shadows
Chasing bugs with wings
It is rather quite simple
There is not much to say
I see that thing taunting me
And it know it’s time to play

Laryngitis

Mom has laryngitis. I love it. She can’t yell at me. When she opens her mouth the only thing that comes out is a high pitched squeal. Sounds like my squeaky toys. Hmmm…..maybe her foot would be a good squeaky toy….nah. She still can give that look though, the one that makes me lie on the floor and put my head between my paws, big brown eyes looking up saying “what did I do?” She will always be a sucker for that one. Blue does the look the best. I think it’s because his eyes are so big mom is scared if he does the look too long they will pop right out of his head. Hmmm…..those could make good toys too!

Humans are humans and dogs are dogs.

Do not expect me to understand your human societal rules. I am a dog, not your child. We do not shake paws to say hello; we smell bums. We do not sit and stay, we jump and run. Going to the bathroom is a social event. You hide to poop; we have no problem with an audience. We don’t diet; we are always hungry and will do anything for food. We can lick ourselves anywhere (you know you are jealous!). You take a bath every day; I only need a bath every other week. You ride in cars; we chase cars. You pet cats; we pounce on them. You shave your hair; dogs love their full, fluffy coats. You wear clothes; we prefer to be naked. You eat at a table with utensils and napkins; we eat out of a bowl, on the floor, and your lap becomes our napkin. You sleep on a bed; we can sleep anywhere. You worry about everything; we live in the moment. You care what others think of you; we love unconditionally.

If it's on the floor, it's mine.



Laces are great doggie dental floss.



I have claimed the entire floor of this house as my real estate. I tried to mark it officially, but mom won’t let me pee anywhere but outside. Therefore, this is an oral agreement between me and the humans. If you leave a shoe, sock, or bag full of groceries on the floor, it’s mine. Don’t give me dirty look when you see the trash bag strewn across the kitchen floor and an unknown source of slime all over my face. The bag was there, I claimed it, and thank you for the lovely leftover meals. Mmm….my favorite….mystery meat!

What part of woof do you not understand?!

Dog language is fairly easy. When we say "woof" it means one of three things: I am hungry, I want to go out, or pay attention to me. It's not that had to figure out. You have a one in three chance of getting it right, and even if you get it wrong, most dogs will take the other two as compensation. In fact, forget items two and three. Just feed me. Give me food and I am happy for at least 30 seconds. That is a lifetime in my world.

Blue's Rebuttal

Well hello there. This is Blue, Roscoe’s better looking and astute younger brother. I decided to hijack his blog today in order to respond to his rude and unjust comment I am a wimp. It was actually rather easy to distract him. He is incredibly simple minded. All I had to was look out the window and bark. He now has his snout glued to the window, drooling over himself, trying to figure out what was so interesting. Geez he is so easy. He is probably looking for a squirrel. He always wants to chase the squirrels. How utterly boring.

Back to the important topic – me. I am not a wimp. Just because I choose to not to get my feet dirty or to smell like wet dog after running around in the snow, does not mean I am a wimp. In fact, it just means I have much more class than that hooligan dog. I like quiet evenings, snuggling under the covers (preferably Egyptian cotton), and a nice warm fire. If anything, I am a romantic. Just ask Chloe. She has the hots for me and just swoons over my charming disposition. That ruffian dog Roscoe has nothing over me.

Please excuse my slacker brother

This is Chloe, Roscoe’s sister. Roscoe is unavailable to make a blog entry today. The big loser is hung over with daddy and taking a nap upstairs. I am not exactly sure what happened last night except daddy had friends over for something called a “bachelor party”. Mommy and I were upstairs. We weren’t supposed to be home, but the snow screwed our girls’ night out. I can’t believe I blow dried my hair just to look at Blue. I was not thrilled having to hang out with the other little ones, but I suffered through it. I could hear some laughter and hollering downstairs. It sounded much more exciting than listening to Lucy incessantly whine for attention. I mean really, the only voice I like to hear is my own. So anyway, not really sure what was going on but it sure did smell funny when we came downstairs this morning. The perfect dog that I am, I volunteered to help clean up the floor. There are always good scraps on the floor when daddy cooks. Mom said it smelled like a brewery and cigars. It didn’t bother me. Still smelled better than Roscoe does most days – ewww. In the kitchen I could smell bacon and beef, and daddy gave me a bone because he knows how special I am. Ok, I am bored with you now. I think I need some “me” time. Oh, and no need for thank you’s. You are welcome my for gracing you with my presence.  

Sleeping in...

I don’t like sleeping in. In fact, I rarely sleep. I always have one eye open just so I don’t miss any action.

On the weekends, sometimes mom sleeps in. I don’t like that either. That means I may have to wait to get my breakfast. I am militant about my schedules. Lateness for breakfast is unacceptable. Five minutes past the time I usually eat and I will die of starvation.

The challenge is getting mom out of bed on the weekend. Her schedule is never the same on a Saturday. It drives me nuts. I have to be very stealth about it though. I tried the same wake up techniques I use on dad and she growled at me. Her morning growl is scary. With her, a slow methodical annoyance usually works. First I pretend there is something really interesting out in the yard and bark. I know if I bark, Charlie barks. He is so reliable. Then she barks at him to be quiet, and I am in the clear. Next step is more noise. Typically finding the most obnoxious squeaky toy or dragging my 3 foot bone up the stairs usually does the trick. At this point, the domino effect is in place. Lucy starts whining at mom to wake up. Charlie is barking at nothing outside, and mom is annoyed but waking up. Sometimes for an extra push, I will jump halfway on the bed and breathe in her face. In the end, I am in the clear and my bowl is full of food. You have to love a good plan.

Hooray for Snow!

As usual, I gave dad some encouragement to get out of bed. Wet nose and licks in the face, especially the eye and nose area, can do the trick. If he takes too long to get up, I just throw my 80 pound body on top of him and that seems to do the trick.

I knew today was special - I could smell it. I ran down the stairs and looked out the front window. Hooray! It was snow. I love snow. You can eat it, roll in it, and pee on it. Dave will throw a toy and I get to dig through the snow to find it. The rat dogs like it too, except Blue. Lucy and Charlie like to chase the birds that keep invading our territory and then they chase each other rolling in the snow. The humans always laugh when they come back inside because they have something called "snow beards".

Blue is a wimpy little dog. He doesn't like to get cold, wet or dirty. Last snow storm a few weeks ago he had to be rescued by mom. He went too far out in the yard and couldn't get back. His pathetic little body just sank in the snow and all you saw were those big point ears sticking up. I would never run into a snow pile I couldn't get out. He is not as smart as me. He thinks he is bigger than he is. Mom calls it a "Napoleon Complex". I am not sure what pastries have to do with it, but most of what humans say doesn’t make sense anyway.