The Return of the Adorably Fuzzy (no, not ewoks)

It's a little hard to see, but he's sleeping with the tip of his tongue sticking out. Actually, he was sleeping, but I caught the picture just as he opened his eyes to see what I was doing, but before he moved his tongue. There's a good chance he feel asleep licking the floor. He does that. Obsessively. Anyway, cute!

I Has a Sleepy

Apparently, someone secretly sleeps on the couch.

The Best Kind of Man

Doesn't shave and snores like a chainsaw.

So Then I Said to Winston Churchill

I don't know what my dog thinks, but this particular look makes me think it's very deep thoughts. Then he chases his own tail, catches it, squeals from the pain of biting his own tail and hides behind me to protect him from the mean person hurting him. He's probably just thinking, "Bacon."

Yay for the Puppy!

Who woke me up this morning by jumping on the bed, standing with two big paws on my chest and drooling onto my face. Yes, the dog is back to his ebullient self, begging for food, tripping people as they walk by and furring everything I own.

I wanted to share with you everything I have learned from the animal stupid enough to eat himself almost to death, and smart enough to not need anyone to tell him that the greatest of these is love.

Love:

A dog loves openly, fully and without reservation and celebrates that love every chance they get. Did I come home from work, exactly as I do every day? YAY! That's fantastic! We should celebrate! Did I leave for work, fully intending to return, as I do every day? That's sad. I'll be missed every second of the day.

Humans take love for granted and we shouldn't. We are lucky to be loved and that love can be ended at a moment's notice by a car accident or an aneurysm or die slowly over time, poisoned by neglect. We should remember how lucky we are and show our appreciation for the people who love us. They are precious, we shouldn't let ourselves forget that.

Teh Judgey:

A dog doesn't care about old or young, gay or straight, rich or poor, black or white. A dog judges you by how you treat him or her. That's it. If you pet and feed a dog, you're in. There's a lot to be said for that, though it's an easier trick for my dog than for any human.

Fun:

Have it. Now, while you can. There's never a bad time to play, never a bad time to enjoy a belly rub, never a bad time to eat. Today's all there is to a dog, and while I certainly understand the benefits of delayed gratification and working for money instead of playing like I want to, I have also learned to enjoy today, to live in the now and let tomorrow be tomorrow.

Forgiveness:

Dogs are happy to forgive the people they love most anything. There's a lot to be said for that. We all make mistakes, so let it go and let's play.

Defend what you care about:

My dog is willing to put his life on the line to protect us from the mailman's evil intentions every day. We should be willing to fight, if only with words on a little blog, for what matters to us.

Thanks to everyone for caring about my dog. It meant a lot to me. He may be only a dog, but he's taught me more than any book, any religion, any person every did.

Not Today

Maybe not for a while. My poor, poor puppy. It's really not looking good.

Cautiously Good News

Why no, I haven't learned a thing from this experience. Why do you ask?

Proving once again that intelligence isn't necessarily the best thing for a creature, my dog figured out how to synchronize pressing down on the garbage can foot pedal and sticking his head in the garbage and, as far as I can tell, ate coffee grounds.

Due to the fact that he was alternating between vomiting and diarrhea, I had to put him in the garage. Of course, he doesn't understand that the advantage to the garage is that I can open the door and hose down the floor unlike the hardwoods and rugs upstairs. He thinks I'm punishing him.

So I put myself in the garage, too. I slept on the treadmill and he slept on the floor next to me. The good news is, he managed to go all night without an accident. The bad news is he need a bath in the worst way, and the way he acts about it, you'd think we bathed him in sulfuric acid.

Anyway, I'm cranky and sore today, but, for the moment, I still have a dog.

My Dog Doesn't Do This

ihasahotdog.com

I Found a Sun Spot!

11 Years Old (An Experiment)

I've never tried to upload a video to blogger, so I can't swear to this working (it seems to be on my end), but if it does work, that is my 11-year-old dog not acting his age.

Hai! Ar U Still Thair?

I see this every few minutes while I am sitting on the couch.

Puppy Gets Presents

I get my dog a huge, rawhide bone for Christmas every year, and his present gets opened first every year. (This keeps him out of the way for the rest of the day. And yes, of course I wrap my dog's present. Don't you?)

What strange thing are you doing now? You're always doing strange things I don't quite understand.

Is that . . . It's . . . ZOMG!

Mine!

Taking a Picture Isn't the Same as Paying Attention

Shhhhh!

You Surprised Me!

Happy, Believe It or Not

You'll keep petting me if you know what's good for you.

Up Close and Personal

What I see first thing every morning.

Ima Gonna Getcha!

Go ahead- whistle at my house.



See what happens.

Michael Vick, My Dog and Second Chances

puppy, happy, abuse, animal, michael vick, eagles, crime,

As you have no doubt heard, unless you've spent the last few days waiting for Lassie in a well, Michael Vick has been signed by the Eagles. And, unless you've spent the last few years in that well, you also know that Michael Vick tortured and killed innocent dogs for entertainment. Some people call it "sport", I call it torturing and killing innocent animals that just want to be your friend.

All of the pictures in this post are of my best friend, Muggsy. (I didn't name him.) When I brought Muggsy home, he was between 1.5 and 2 years old. His tail never wagged and he didn't grin like that. He did pee himself anytime someone raised their hand, or their voice. Muggsy bit me the first time I tried to put a leash on him. He cried when I tried to pet him. Because someone like Michael Vick thought it would be fun to put out cigarettes on Muggsy's skin. Because someone like Michael Vick thought it was perfectly fine to choke, kick, beat and pour boiling water on a dog. On my sweet, cuddly friend.

It took a long time to get Muggsy to trust me, to understand that I was never going to hurt him, ever. He lacked any kind of "manners": didn't know "sit" or "stay", had never walked on a leash, was barely house trained. I trained without punishment by highly praising behavior I wanted, and punishing bad behavior with lack of attention. It took a while, and some modification of my own behavior*, but it worked.

Now I have a best friend who follows me around like a big, furry shadow. Muggsy can't bear for me to be out of sight, even for as long as it takes me to pee. He'll lay on the floor, nose pressed to the gap between the bathroom door and the floor, and sigh while he waits. When I return, whether from the bathroom or from work, there is celebration. He jumps and dances, tail wagging so hard his whole body wiggles, mouth wide open in a big smile. Muggsy sleeps as near me as he can get (I don't let him on the bed or other furniture), and wakes up to check if I'm still there. Sometimes he'll wake me up in the middle of the night to see if I want to play. Muggsy knows when I'm upset or in pain and his cure is always the same: pet my soft fur, you'll feel better. I always do.

So you can imagine how I felt when my favorite team signed Michael Vick. How dare they! How could anyone give that monster a million dollars? What message does this send about the severity of Vick's crimes, and the children! What message does this send to them?

Then I heard about second chances and regret. Muggsy got a second chance with me- the shelter wanted to put him down. They didn't have the resources to deal with a dog as traumatized as he was. So why shouldn't Michael Vick get a second chance? Maybe Vick was as traumatized at some point in his past as Muggsy. I don't know. Muggsy bit me out of fear and pain, maybe Vick's motivation was much the same.

The honest truth is, I don't know. On the one hand, I want to believe that Vick is truly remorseful, that he really can change. I want to believe that people can learn a lesson and better themselves instead of just sinking further into the muck. On the other hand, I haven't seen too many people who really have changed. Am I influenced by wanting to believe the best about the Eagles? Sure. Am I influenced by my desire to poor boiling water on the person who hurt Muggsy, and really, Vick'll do in a pinch? Absolutely. My motivations are too muddled, my anger too deep to evaluate this situation rationally.

We'll have to see, I suppose.

*I can't leave food out, I have to empty the garbage immediately after placing meat or bones in it, and Muggsy will not bark or otherwise alert me if he needs to go out. He'll just stare at the basement door. If I'm in another room, I can't see that. So, if I haven't seen him in a while, I have to go find him. Sometimes, he's just sleeping. Oh, and he recently figured out how to make the icemaker in the fridge give him delightfully cold and crunchy icecubes, so I have walk across the kitchen floor carefully.

You Are Powerless

Before the cuteness!