Where's mine?

 
You know, it's tough to be the dog in this house. What does a guy have to do to get a donut all to himself? 

I'm a good dog. I don't jump on people and knock them down. I don't bark too much. I never, ever pee-pee inside the den, er, house. And even with all the factual evidence in MY favor, I don't get a donut to call my own. 

Yes, Mom and Dad always give me little biteys of their donuts, but it's not the same. The dog is a second-class citizen here. I guess I should be happy I rank above the cat. 

Mom - I love donuts! You know this! I'd be so grateful if just once I could have a whole donut!

Dad - Can't you convince Mom it would be okay to give me a whole donut? 

My patience isn't infinite. I'm a dog. Sooner or later you won't be watching closely enough and I will snatch the prize.

Don't say you were never warned. 

Black panther spotted in my yard!

 Mom thinks she's funny with that blog title, but she's not far off. Loki is black and slinky, and he is a nasty feline. And he does catch mice and moles, so that's a good thing. 

He's a strange little cat, though. He's like one-tenth my size and yet he attacks me, which is pretty brave of him. It annoys me to no end. How would you like it if he bapped you in the face all the time? You wouldn't. He keeps his claws pulled in which is the ONLY reason I haven't taught him a serious lesson. 

Mom and I go outside every morning and take a little stroll so I can do my outside activities. This morning, Loki walked along. He behaved so it was cool. When Mom stopped to take pictures of the daffodils, Loki hopped up on a stump and acted like a big dog, er, big cat. He thinks he's the king of the mountain or something. Of course, Mom had to take his picture. She took one of me smelling the flowers, so it's okay. Having a picture of Loki on my blog every once in a while is not so bad.

It's a good thing to stop and smell the flowers, especially for Mom. I'm with her all the time and I know she's always busy taking care of me and Dad, and even Loki. She said maybe tomorrow we'd get to go on a long walk, maybe take the pond loop again. I'd really like that and she'd get to see if the old, abandoned homestead still has daffodils bloom in the spring. 

And no, I did not tinkle on the daffodils! 

I'm Deuce and I have a little couth. 

We have an interloper and I don't like it

 Now I know what, or is it who, I keep hearing at night. It's a raccoon! I don't like this at all!

Mom's not really happy about it either, let me tell ya. She looked at Dad and said, "GET THE GUN." Now those are serious words from Mom. 

According to the time stamp on the trail com, Mom and Dad need to be lurking around outside around 5:00 AM. Which could really be 4:00 AM now. I'm still confused about the time change. Anyway, this critter must go and we don't care if it leaves by way of a cage or worse. Much, much worse for the critter. 

Mom and Dad told me raccoons carry a disease called rabies which is really pretty horrible. Loki and I have had shots to keep us from getting it, although Loki is due his booster. They don't give people shots unless they're exposed, which is sort of dangerous. 

If a dog or a human gets rabies, they die. End of their story. 

So the critter has to go. That's the end of its story.

I have a really cool backyard

I'm a country boy, and my backyard is really cool! Except at night when it's really, really dark. I make Mom go with me when it's dark. Anyway...

My backyard is a country dog's dream. I have room to run or just take a leisurely stroll and sniff. Boy, is there a lot to sniff! I can tell right away how many deer have been in my yard with just one sniff. 

It's a big yard to police, but I'm up for the job. I know every tree, every rock, every little thing in my yard. Sometimes Mom and Dad will move big rocks or pick up a bunch of sticks to put on the burn pile and I know when they do. 

I really do have a good dog's life. A warm bed to sleep in with Mom and Dad, plenty of food and water, a big yard for amusement, and best of all, I have Mom and Dad. I'm very lucky.

When I was little, Mom didn't allow me to go outside on my own. Sometimes I even had to be on a leash. I don't mind a leash. It's like I'm connected to Mom and that's cool. But it's pretty cool she trusts me to go sniff around and do dog things, too. She knows that most of the time I keep her in view because I don't want her to get away from me. 

My woods are more fun this time of year because I can see everything. In the summer, everything is green and growing and I lose sight-lines. And there are no ticks right now. Ticks are the worst!

The backyard is fun, but it's always good to get back inside the den, er, house, and warm up my paws. Yep, I sure have a good life. 

I helped by staying out of the way!

Deuce helps make garden racks

The weather was great today! Not too cold, not too hot, just right for Mom, Dad, and me being outside. Mom had all this garden stuff she wanted to do and she needed Dad's expertise with the cordless drill to get it done today. I helped by staying out of the way. I mean, the sun was sooooo warm and my fur is black and it was sooooo nice to just flop in the grass and feel the warmth of the sun on my toes. 

We have an old pool pad beside the front porch. My parents used to put a pool on it but it's gotten sort of dangerous for Dad to climb in and out of a pool so Mom's using the spot for what she calls her garden corral. Dad helped put down a new tarp, build the racks, and get them set in place. 

Here's the problem with all this. So Mom is growing veggies. 

Peppers. I can't eat them.

Cucumbers. I don't like them.

Radishes. Yuk.

Spinach. Double yuk yuk! 

The Garden Corral ready to go

Carrots. Um... maybe, but probably not.

Lettuce- four kinds. No, no, no.

Peas. Nope.

Tomatoes. No.

Pumpkin. Yes! But I have to wait so long to get some!

Watermelon. Heck, yea!! Make me some frozen treats! 

Are Dad and I glad there's no kale on this list? YES!

So as you can see, there's not a lot for lil' ol' me to enjoy in the garden corral. I have a sneaky suspicion that if I forget myself and pee-pee on any of Mom's grow bags, I'll be in the deep doggie doo-doo. 

Tomorrow, Dad's getting on the John Deere 1023 and helping Mom do a few more things. Cousin Dave gave Mom some blocks to build a wall down on the turn of the driveway. Those careless Amazon delivery drivers have turned the corner into a muddy mess by driving up the bank. Mom and Dad say some nice concrete will stop them from being able to do that. It's a shame Mom won't let me scare any of the delivery drivers.

Not that I'd EVER scare Mary the Mail Lady. She's pretty cool. She likes me a lot and always gives me a treat. Plus, Dad says she knows how to drive slowly and is respectful of our lane, not like the Amazon drivers. Mom used to get my treats through an Amazon subscription and she canceled it because the drivers are so disrespectful. She told me not to worry, though. She can get my snackies at lots of other places. 

The thing is that if this silly garden corral makes Mom happy, Dad and I will go along with it. If Mom wants to make pickles, we want to watch. If Mom wants a big salad made with lettuce she grew in a grow bag, we'll stand back and let her enjoy it. And if Mom wants to raise a steer for steaks, we're all in!

How about it, Mom? Got any plans for beef?

****Note from Mom****

Sorry, baby. You know I'd turn a calf into a pet and then where would we be?

This seed thing is taking over!

 

I think Mom has gone round the bend. The sun is shining, true, but the ground is still chilly. I know this because I don't wear shoes! I'm outside running around in my bare paws! 

Mom says it's March, and March is the time to start planting seeds. There are little seed trays in the front window and two butt-ugly red pots on the sunroom floor in front of the door. Plus, Mom was just outside mixing garden soil, cow manure, and potting mix together in the one cart. Then she filled two grow bags with what she'd mixed and mumbled something about radishes and spinach. They don't sound very good to me, especially the spinach. Dad doesn't like it so neither do I. 

It was forty degrees outside this morning and seventy-eight in the little greenhouse. Mom was in the greenhouse talking to the celery. I just don't get it, but I'm getting worried about her. I've tasted celery and it's not my thing, just like radishes and spinach. I know a decent snackie when I smell one and seeds miss the mark. 

And Mom fussed me for something I didn't do! Okay, I did think about it, but she said "no" and I stopped. How often do I get the chance to roll in cow manure? Never, that's how often. And it was only a little clump that dropped out of the bag, not the entire bag. 

Some days I just don't have any fun at all.