Saturday, January 19, 2019

And she let him back in the door

I like it when Mom laughs, so I do things so she will. Sometimes, I don't even know I've done something funny. Like this morning. 

I needed to go outside to know... and when Mom opened the door, Loki ran right outside, lickety-split! I'll say one thing about that skanky cat, and that is that he is fast on his little white feet. Anyway, Mom called him to go back inside and he ignored her - so she closed the door. 

That did it. Loki got all scared. He's a wimpy creature. I was out in the yard but I heard Mom laugh. Then she got her phone and took some pictures that weren't of me. (I talked to her about that. I AM HER FAVORITE SUBJECT, not that skanky cat.)

When Mom opened the door for me, Loki ran inside and stopped. Then he swatted at me like it was my fault he'd gone outside in the cold. 

Stupid cat. 

Editor's note: Mom struck through the word "skanky." 

Friday, January 18, 2019

Three is just a number

I'm three years old now! Is that old in dog years? Mom and Dad don't think so. They talk about stuff and say I'm still a young dog. Well, I'm old enough to know snow is really cold on my paws. Is it spring yet?

I turned three on January 14. It was a quiet event. Mom had to work. Dad's home health care folks came in. His nurse scratched my belly and he ratted me out to Mom. Mom acted all insulted that I let some strange woman rub my tummy, but I know better. She doesn't really mind. She likes that I'm friendly when people come in. 

I'm friendly. I do not jump up on people. I'm too well-mannered for that. Mom brought me up right, you know. 

Mom and Dad are worried about me. Mom is convinced there's something more wrong with my leg than a torn cruciate. They keep talking about my hips and it sort of scares me. What's an X-ray? Does it hurt?

Dad had surgery and it hasn't been any fun for any of us. He can't take me outside now, so I have to go out and pee by myself.  What if I have to have surgery? Who is going to take care of me while Mom is at work? Dad's in no shape to do it. 

It makes Mom really sad. 

She talks to me at night after we go to bed and sometimes she cries and tells me she's so sorry my leg hurts. I don't blame her, though. It wasn't her fault I ran so hard and jumped so high I hurt myself. It doesn't matter because she still blames herself. She says surgery will be very hard on me because I can't tell her how I really feel. 

I guess if the vet says I need surgery, Mom will find a way to make it happen. I trust her to take care of me. I really want to live long enough to be a wise old dog. Mom said she'd like that. 

Sunday, January 13, 2019

Mom called me a "snowflake"

Sometimes I worry about Mom. This morning she called me a "snowflake." Okay, it IS snowing right now, but I'm black. Like in all black. From the tip of my very excellent nose to the tip of my toes, I'm black. How can I be a snowflake when snow is white? 

Snow is fine, I guess. It started to snow yesterday afternoon at about four o'clock. Mom and Dad checked the weather report, and Mom joked we could get anywhere from zero to ninety-nine inches. She says predicting the weather is the only job where you get paid for being wrong a lot. Her phone app said we'd get one to three inches and there are about six inches on the ground right now! 

First thing this morning, like always, I had to pee. Mom opened the sunroom door for me and yowza! I stepped outside and my poor little paws about froze! I turned around and came back inside. That's when Mom called me a snowflake. She said a big, brave, handsome pup like me shouldn't have a problem with a little bit of snow. Then she took a picture of my footprints in the snow showing how I wouldn't jump down and go tinkle. I'm so glad I keep Mom amused. 

Hey, Mom. Why don't YOU walk outside with your feet bare and tell me what you think about that?

I think Mom is going to have the last laugh on me real soon. I really need to go out. A guy can only hold it for so long, you know. The upside is that when I do finally go out, Mom will give me a Griller when I come back inside. Hmmm...

I'm Deuce! I'm going out! Cold paws are a small price to pay for a Griller.