05 May 2009

RCHS Update

Meet Bola.

Cute, eh?

Bola is currently available for adoption at the Rutland County Humane Society. You can go read about him over on their website, but I think I have cuter pictures. And I won't accuse him of being unmannered. Unmanned, yes, but not unmannered. He has manners, they're just not entirely appropriate for most human households.

First let's have some stats on good 'ol Bola, and then we'll get on to the cute pictures.

Shar Pei Look-a-like Wrinkly Forehead and Ears?


Happy Bully Grin?


Serious Dog Expression?


Big Muddy Feet?


White Spot on Right Hind Foot?


Airplane Ears?

definite check!

Bola and I went hiking in Pittsford today. This is what the trail looked like from Bola's point of view.

This is what Bola looked like from my point of view as he tried to climb back up the vertical riverbank.

It's a good thing he was wearing my dog harness instead of the one from the humane society, or I wouldn't have had a handle to pull him back up the bank.

Bola was up for adventure today when we went out. I no sooner got him back on the trail, and he decided to dig to China.

Once the Great Dig had been averted, Bola made another attempt at the river. Until he realized just how chilly the water was and he executed an emergency screeching halt.

All the mud necessitated a good scrub down when we returned to the car.

And all the digging, climbing, and screeching halting necessitated a nap.

10 March 2009

I'd Like To See You Do Better

As we all know, the first thing a dog must do when he wakes up in the morning is patrol the house to check for anything suspicious. The second thing a dog must do when he wakes up in the morning is go outside and put fresh marks on his territory. The other morning I determined it was about time I marked the crab apple tree in the front yard again. I strutted over to it, carefully positioned myself, lifted my leg high, and let it rip. Boss Lady reports that I peed about a gallon, with a look of serious concentration on my face the whole time. I'd like to report that the look on Boss Lady's face was one of utmost amusement.

When I'd finished my task I inquired as to the cause of her amusement. It would seem that my aim is not as good as I'd thought. Apparently, nary a drop landed on the crab apple tree. Apparently, I was a good 3" off the bullseye. Considering the nearness of my target, I was downright embarrassed. I hung my head in shame, whilst she giggled and tee-hee'ed about it. After about the 7th insult to my studliness, I was ready to go inside and be done with the whole territory marking thing. I'd just like to tell her that aiming that thing takes quite a bit of practice, nevermind the fact that I don't have any side mirrors to help me. Hmph! It's not like she could have done any better.

09 March 2009

I Am The Human; You Are The Dog

I am the human; you are the dog. That's Boss Lady's new motto. She uses it whenever she is trying to put one over on me. For instance, she used it the other day when I decided I wanted to get up early and go adventuring in the snow. I trotted my furry self right up the stairs and into her room, where I nose-pokered what I thought was her arm under the covers (turned out it was her knee, but, really, it's all the same). She pulled the blankets further over her head and moaned that she would not be getting out of bed early on a frosty cold morning. I nose-pokered her again and added a whine. She pulled the covers off her head and glared at me. I pointed my bright, shiny eyes right into hers and grinned. I even thumped my tail a little bit so she could tell how I excited I was about the prospect of adventuring in the snow all day. My efforts at dog to human communication worked wonderfully: Boss Lady fully understood exactly what I was telling her. Unfortunately, my skills of persuasion weren't so well tuned, and I was rudely rebuffed with a glare and a most unladylike curse. As a last resort, I turned on my begging eyes. Which is when she informed me of the obvious,

"I am The Human, you are The Dog, and I say we're staying right here in this toasty warm house where it is dry and comfy. There will be no ifs, ands, or buts about it."

And that was the end of that discussion.

A couple days later, Boss Lady's motto made another appearance. I'd finally convinced her, with significant assistance from Boss Lady's Mother, to go for a walk. As we came around the corner, we found ourselves headed straight into a particularly wet and muddy section of the sidewalk. There was just the littlest bit of dry sidewalk available, only enough for one person to pass at a time. I promptly steered myself towards that dry patch, in the process bumping Boss Lady out of the way. I figured the leash was long enough that she could just follow along behind me. No sense in me getting my feet wet for no reason. Her response was immediate; she commanded me to heel, and then forced me to walk through the muddy mess, while her boots stayed clean and dry. I balked at the mud puddle, and gave her a dirty look. She just replied,

"I am The Human, you are The Dog, and it's much more important that my feet remain dry than yours."

So much for looking out for the health and well being of a loyal and beloved pet.

This evening Boss Lady's motto made one more appearance. Boss Lady's Mother was preparing a nice steak and potato supper, complete with carrots and homemade harvest bread. It smelled delicious to me, and I couldn't wait to enjoy my share. Boss Lady appeared and announced it my supper time. As Boss Lady headed for the food closet, I trotted over to Boss Lady's Mother and nosed her elbow. Boss Lady's Mother exclaimed, and Boss Lady gave me a strange look. She walked over to me with my allotted scoop of kibble and prepared to give me my first handful. I looked at the kibble, looked at the steak on the counter, and then looked at Boss Lady. I didn't want to be rude, but that steak just looked so much more appetizing than my daily ration of dry kibble. Boss Lady ignored my looks and shoved the kibble into my mouth. When she tried to give me the next handful, I pointedly stared at the steak. I ended up with another mouthful of kibble. On the 3rd try, I flat out refused the kibble and informed her that I wouldn't settle for less than my share of the steak.

In a very flat voice I was informed, as if I could possibly forget with her constant reminders, "I am The Human, you are The Dog; I eat the steak, you eat the kibble. Take it or leave it."

Well, who can turn down a proposition like that. The kibble suddenly seemed very appetizing.

03 March 2009

A Real First

I am now made to feel guilty for abandoning my blog for so long. Whilst I was being lazy, a friend and fellow blogger, Mel over at The Research Journal, gave me my very first blogger award. She deems me a Kreativ Blogger. I'm very honored. I'm also stymied. I'm supposed to nominate 7 other blogs. But, but, but. I read so many more blogs than only 7. *sigh* I guess I'll just have to limit myself.

Once you receive the Kreativ Blogger award you’re supposed to pass on the good cheer.

Here are the instructions:
1. Copy the award to your site.
2. Link to the person from whom you received the award.
3. Nominate 7 other bloggers. (how to choose only 7!!)
4. Link to those sites on your blog.
5. Leave a message on the blogs you nominate.

I pass along the good cheer to the following blogs:

1. Vet On The Edge
2. Haley Poulos Photography
3. Some Day All This Will Be Yours
4. Save The Pit Bull, Save The World
5. Living With Infidels
6. Three Woofs And A Woo
7. Just Another Dog Blog

20 February 2009

Can't Fool Me

I was aimlessly wandering the kitchen, checking for any post-supper droppings, when I smelled it. Food. Only dog kibble, but still, food is food. I snuffled around the bottoms of the cupboards, under the bar stools, and even in Boss Lady's Father's slippers, but found nothing. I sniffled intently along the floor, inhaling random dust bunnies that smelled promising. Still nothing. Finally, my nose locked upon the kibble smell: under the fridge.

I could smell it, a gold mine of kibble under there. I wedged my nose between the fridge and cupboard and snuffled and sniffled and licked around, but couldn't capture the elusive kibbles. I whined, moaned and directed pathetic looks toward Boss Lady's Mother. I scratched at the floor until finally Boss Lady's Mother went in search of Boss Lady to solve the problem.

When Boss Lady appeared, I eagerly looked at the fridge and whined. Boss Lady's gruff response was to "back up and down stay." So I did. She proceeded to dig out gobs of dust bunnies, a Chihuahua sized ball of pet hair (that cat sheds so much!) and 3 wonderful pieces of kibble. They glowed at me from within the dust and dirt. I could barely contain myself, a little puddle of drool formed under my chin. Boss Lady wandered out of the kitchen in search of a dust pan, leaving me all alone with the wondrous kibble. The kitchen was flooding with drool when she finally returned. I was dismayed when, instead of releasing me, she swept up the mess and unceremoniously dumped it in the garbage.

"What about my kibble?!" I wailed. She gave me a disgusted look, dug three Charlee Bears out of the cupboard, dropped them on the floor where the mess had been, and released me. Mmmmmm. Charlee Bears. But, you can't fool me. I know there was kibble, and I know where you put it. I may never forgive you for this blatant display of kibble abuse. I hope you're happy with yourself.

07 February 2009

First Times

And the purge continues.

Back before Boss Lady and I got sick, she finally managed to make contact with an important person regarding the trails at Shrewsbury. This important person finally put in her hands a nifty little map of the trails, allowing us to, at long last, hike a loop instead of just hiking out and back. These are some very nice trails, and allow for various lengths of hikes. With both of us finally feeling better, we made our first Shrewsbury loop attempt. It just happened to be only 2 days after a massive storm. At our house, we got about 8" of snow. Up in Shrewsbury, they got anywhere from 1-3 feet of snow.

In case you're curious, this is what the upper end of 1-3 feet of snow looks like. No, I am not laying down.

Erm. I think I'm stuck.

Ooomph. This doesn't seem to be working very well.

According to Boss Lady, First Tracks are much sought after and very awesome to win. Lucky us, First Tracks in 2 feet of snow.

Truth be told, though, I'm the one who got first tracks. Boss Lady spent most of the hike following along in my trail.

Tromping through 2-3 feet of snow is exhausting work. Considering how excited she was about the First Tracks, I finally thought it might be a good idea to let her actually have First Tracks. Which means that, for probably the First Time Ever, I walked behind Boss Lady while we were hiking. Not too far behind, mind you. I kept close enough to tromp on her snowshoe every 3rd step. I was surprised at how much easier it is to walk in someone else's trail. No wonder Boss Lady had been hanging back for so long.

Even with following behind Boss Lady, hiking through all that snow was hard work. Another First: I actually plopped down in the snow to take a break. Boss Lady can't remember that happening ever before. I don't think she's one to comment, though, because she flopped down in the snow before I did. She claims it was an accident, but I don't believe her. She certainly took her sweet time getting up, and then she couldn't do it without holding on to me for help.

Anyway, despite the hard slogging through 2 feet of snow, and all the plopping down and whatnot, we did manage to successfully complete the loop. Boss Lady was very proud of us for pushing through and not giving up. It took us 2 hours to cover 2 miles; somewhat slower than our summer hiking time.

When we finally got back to the car, Boss Lady discovered I was carrying a couple extra pounds in snow. My whiskers were all icicled.

And my chest and tummy were covered with snowballs. My feet were even worse.

Yes, I was a poopered puppy.

06 February 2009

The Adventure Not Taken

Here is a fine example of an entry in need of purging. Whilst Boss Lady's Writer's Constipation was preventing the documentation of our splendid adventures, it was not preventing the adventures themselves. One afternoon, she decided we needed to attempt Patch Hollow, which is off the AT/LT in East Wallingford. Boss Lady's Father introduced her to Patch Hollow, and showed her the old wheel track to follow to reach the beaver pond. So, off we went in the hopes of reaching The Pond. Along the way, I had a lot of fun playing in the snow.

Here I am at the beginning of the trail, before we went bushwacking on the old wheel track.

There's a good reason I'm standing on this stick.

See what it did to me?

You shouldn't have messed with me, Stick!

It was a very treacherous adventure. I had to fight off so many sticks. This one thought it could insult me while protected by plentiful snow cover.

Fortunately, I'm an expert snow digger.

Now, what was that you were saying, Stick?

That's what I thought, not so vocal once you're out in the open.

Ha! Who's in charge now, eh?

We never did quite make it to The Pond, although we did find this nifty cabin hidden in the woods.

05 February 2009


My blog entries lately have been few and far between. For that you have my apologies. You'll recall that the last frequent entries I posted were regarding some bowel dysfunction suffered by both Boss Lady and myself. Between my frequent trips outside, and her extended stay in the bathroom and subsequent convalescence, blogging simply wasn't a priority. Now, I know what you're thinking. You're accepting this explanation as a good reason for the initial lack of entries, but you're wondering why it has lasted so long. Well, let me tell you, that was bowel related as well. Specifically, what Boss Lady is calling Writer's Constipation.

Writer's Constipation is similar to Writer's Block, in that it means no writing is happening. Boss Lady has coined this new term because she's had plenty of ideas, she simply hasn't been able to get them out. They just sit there in her brain, no matter how hard she works, and they just won't move. Aside from leaving you, my Loyal Readers, without entertainment, this condition leaves Boss Lady feeling bloated and cranky. As of this evening, though, the ideas seem to be moving again.

Hence, in the next few days you may look forward to new posts, some of which will probably be purges of incomplete, and now finished, entries attempted during Boss Lady's bout with Writer's Constipation. I can only hope my readers will come flocking back.

27 January 2009

RCHS Update

Boss Lady managed to make her way to RCHS this morning. Jess told her there were only 4 dogs to choose from for hiking. It's always good when there aren't many dogs waiting to be adopted. What Jess didn't tell her was that there was a litter of puppies playing in the front cat room. Puppies! Oh, they were so cute! They're mutts, with maybe some dachsund, or maybe not. They're 5 1/2 weeks old right now, and raring to go. They kept their distance at first when Boss Lady stepped in to play with them, but pretty quick 3 of them trotted over to tackle her. Then two more joined the group. Only one puppy kept it's distance, and it was busy attacking the stuffy toy and chewing on the cat tower. Boss Lady scopped them all up, one at a time, and cuddled them. The little boys liked the cuddling, the little girls not so much. They chewed on her fingers, and her boots, and her boot laces, and her pant legs. One even tried to play tug with her sleeve. They were simply adorable! But, enough with the puppies. Boss Lady finally dragged herself away from them and chose a hiking partner.

Per Jess's advice, Boss Lady snagged Alaska, a very nice husky x chow mix. Alaska trotted along very politely with Boss Lady, although he was a little camera shy at first.

After a little while, he warmed up and discovered just how cool Boss Lady is. See his pretty stripes? Maybe he's got some tiger in there somewhere.

About half way through the hike, which she cut short, by the way, Alaska suddenly stopped walking, trotted back to Boss Lady, sat down politely, and requested scritches. Boss Lady was only too happy to accomodate him. She's a sucker for scritches requests. When his need for scritches had finally been satisfied, they continued on their way.

Alaska has a special message for my loyal readers: I'd really like to go home with you.

I'll use my sad face, if you don't come take me home.

24 January 2009

Let The Record Show

Boss Lady is on another of her "I make the rules and you'll abide by them without comment, question, or complaint" kicks. So far, the only rules she is really cracking down on are the supper time rules. Rule #1: make and maintain eye contact before each mouthful. She really thinks I'm going to take my eyes off the food for even a second? Rule #2: supper is never served before 5pm, no matter how much I beg. If Boss Lady is home from work, I start begging around 4pm. I don't want her to forget, after all. Sometimes, they all go off somewhere and return home in the early afternoon. When they all arrive home en masse, that means it must be supper time, even if it's only 3pm. Boss Lady is becoming more and more annoyed with 2 hour supper begging routines.

So, yesterday Boss Lady arrived home from work at the regular time. I was busy in the kitchen helping Boss Lady's Mother peel carrots, so I was unable to greet her at the door. As soon as she appeared in the kitchen, though, I told her I was ready for supper. She patted me on the head and walked away. A few moments later she returned in a change of clothes. I told her I was still ready for supper. Instead, she offered me a walk. Well, I wasn't going to turn down a walk, and I was sure supper would still be there when we returned.

As soon as we returned from the walk, I began begging for supper again. Which leads to rule #3: thirty minute rest breaks between exercise and food. By which time they were eating their supper, and Boss Lady wasn't about to interrupt her supper to dish out mine. When they were finally finished, I jumped up in preparation for mine, only to be informed I would have to wait until she'd cleared the table. I stood in the middle of the way staring pathetically at her. Finally she looked at me and commented, "you really think you're going to starve to death waiting another five minutes. You act like I never feed you!"

The only way I could respond was, "you'll recall you have a bistory, and a very recent history at that, of with holding my sustenance. I do not think it out of line to make sure you remember."

Chastened, finally, finally, Boss Lady fed me. I may have to rethink pre-supper walks, if they're going to delay delivery of my supper by two hours.