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.

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.

Celebrity Status

It's official; I'm famous. I'll be speaking with my lawyer soon about a new contract. I will not be kept from my fans. They wonder, they ask, they inquire as to my health and well being.

Boss Lady stopped at the Post Office while running errands today. You'll note that I was not invited for the errand running adventure. While at the Post Office, Boss Lady ran into a woman we frequently see out walking. She inquired as to my whereabouts, noting that she hadn't see us out and about lately. When Boss Lady explained that I'd been sick, and then she'd been sick, and we simply hadn't been able to get out, the lady seemed to accept the excuse. Then she reminded Boss Lady that someone is always watching us, so we'd better continue making regular appearances around town so everyone knows we're fine.

Do you hear that Boss Lady? My admirers miss me. It's time to get crackin'.

What's Wrong With You?

This is pathetic. And just a wee bit offensive. You came home the other night, barely said hello to me, and promptly locked yourself in the bathroom. What kind of greeting is that? I've been repeatedly informed that my greetings to you must be warmer and more inviting than that. And what's with collapsing in bed and sleeping for 12 hours? Are you some kind of lazy bum? What about my breakfast? What about my play time?

Oh, you're sick, eh? So what. As I'm sure you'll recall, I was sick for several days last week. Really, our symptons are surprisingly similar: non stop diarrhea and vomiting. It certainly wasn't fun, and I didn't enjoy it by any means, but I also didn't collapse in the living room and not move for 36 hours.

Just one more thing. Why is it that last week you were prepared to squirt gatorade down my throat with a turkey baster and this week you're ready to take my head off if I so much as sniff the gatorade? Make up your mind, please.

And you do realize that this does not exempt you from a Saturday/Sunday hike, right? Good. Now then, how about a little play time with Mr. Green?

I'm Not Eating That

First, I wasn’t allowed to eat anything. No breakfast, no supper, no treats. No counter surfing or dish licking. It was awful. The only thing I was allowed to eat was some stupid little pill. Boss Lady fooled me the first time. She talked about popcorn. She mentioned a biscuit. She held something in her hand and pretended to throw it to me. She asked for several tricks. She got me all super excited about some sort of food, and then she simply tossed the pill to me. It went down the hatch before I knew what it was. Blech. A pill. Well, I won’t fall for that again.

She must have known her little scam wouldn’t work quite as well the 2nd time around, because she changed the routine. She talked about popcorn, and then tossed me a piece. She talked about biscuits, and then tossed me one. She got all excited about an even more yummy and special treat, and then she tossed it to me. Can you guess what that extra special treat was? Yup, another pill. Unfortunately, it went down the hatch before I realized what it was again. Hm. Obviously, I can’t trust the Boss Lady anymore.

The third go ‘round with the pill, Boss Lady tried the popcorn, biscuit, pill toss. I decided to chew everything thoroughly. The pill did not pass the chew test, so I spit it out on the floor. Boss Lady looked at me incredulously. She toe-tapped the floor and told me to eat it. I picked it up, and spit it right back out. I’m not stupid, I know a pill when I taste one. Boss Lady was disgusted. She picked up the soggy, slightly chewed pill and considered me. I looked at her, waiting for another treat. She realized she was going to have to get creative.

She contemplated my favorite treats. Popcorn, biscuits, and Charlee Bears are always favorites, but those obviously weren’t going to work anymore. Carrots are an all-time favorite, but you can’t hide a pill in a carrot. Then she lit upon cheese. I love cheese. It’s soft enough to hide a pill in. And I’m likely to swallow it without thinking. So, she chopped a hunk of cheddar off the block, all the while mumbling about wasting good Cabot Hunter’s Sharp cheddar on the dog. She smushed the cheese around the pill a little bit, demanded a trick, and tossed it to me. I swallowed it without a 2nd thought. She grinned happily and put away the cheese. That’s when I realized I’d just been tricked. Oh, but the cheese was worth it. The next morning, she got out the cheese again, and tossed me another hunk. Belatedly, I remembered the previous night’s trick. Darn! She got another pill into me. Hm. I’d hate to give up cheese, but next time I’ll really have to remember to slow down and chew it.

When she came home from work that night, I was all prepared for the cheese routine. But, she didn’t go for the cheese. Instead, she announced good news and started boiling rice. Supper? You mean I get supper?! WooHoo! I was so busy spinning in circles and drooling in excitement, that I didn’t even notice when she slipped another pill into the middle of the rice. And, after no food for 4 days, I wasn’t particularly interested in chewing. Down the hatch with another pill.

The same thing happened with breakfast the next morning, in which she mixed some cottage cheese, and supper the next evening, in which she mixed boiled hamburg. She got me each time with another of those blasted pills. This morning, though, this morning I was ready. She tried to up the ante by mixing rice, cottage cheese, and boiled hamburg, but I was careful. I paid attention while she was putting it all together and I saw that pill go in the middle. With much difficulty, I controlled myself and managed to eat around the pill. When I was done, it was sitting all by itself in the middle of the gleaming stainless steel. Ha! She glared at me, but didn’t have time for the camouflage routine. She remembered it at lunch though. After she’d fried up some hamburg to go with her fake mac and cheese, she grabbed a hunk of hamburg, put the pill right on top, and spoon fed it to me. Mmmmm. Hamburg. Off a spoon. Yum. Down the hatch with another pill. Drat! She outsmarted me again! That’s ok, I’ve got another 4 chances to refuse that pill.

Anticipation Of The Kiss

Boss Lady had a very wise lit. professor who always did the same lecture at some point during a class. He firmly believed that the anticipation of the kiss is always better than the kiss. Which is to say, that our expectations of an event are always better than the actual event. It's just the way things are. I had never really contemplated this idea until Sunday.

On Sunday, after the vet visit for a few more pokes and prods, Boss Lady took me up to Shrew(woohoo!)sbury for some fun hiking. Yes, the vet gave his approval. Anyway, we both expected to enjoy a near perfect hike. There were several inches of fresh snow from an overnight storm. (Which made the roads a bit sloppy and delayed our arrival time by an interminable number of minutes.) The sky was crystal clear, the temperature was in the low 20's, and Boss Lady was feeling good.

The bubble of her good mood burst as soon as we arrived at the parking area. The parking area that is normally completely empty of any other vehicles, was completely packed with large pick-ups and SUV's each towing a double snow machine wide trailer. She sighed. So much for a calm and pleasant hike. What was worse, there was a dog running loose in the parking lot, while 2 cross country skiiers gathered gear, and the newest snow machine arrivals unloaded their 2 snowmachines in the middle of the road. At first glance, Boss Lady couldn't see a single place to park our tiny little mini-suv. She could see right up the nose of the loose dog as he jumped all over the car, though. Blasted jumping dogs. Fortunately, it turned out the dog belonged with the cross country skiiers, and they were actually packing up to head home. The guys unloading their snow machines figured they could park where the cross country skiier's car had been, and Boss Lady could park slightly ahead of that on the edge of the snow bank. Once all that was settled, Boss Lady suited up, unloaded me, and we headed out.

Things started out alright. We made it to the trailhead, where she deemed it safe for me to be off leash. We could see the tracks from the cross country skiiers, and that's when Boss Lady realized she should have inquired as to how far those skiiers had gone. Maybe she could have followed their tracks and made a loop. Oh well. Maybe she'll stumble upon a loop anyway. Out we headed, and this time we went left at the intersection, because that's the way the skiier's tracks went. We discovered countless other trails branching off, but continued to follow the skiier's tracks. Part way out, Boss Lady's right snow shoe seemed to be giving her difficulty. Her stride wasn't natural and the shoe kept twisting her foot oddly. She couldn't find any problem with the binding, though, and thought maybe it was the final failure of her winter boots. After an hour out, she was working up a good pair of blisters on her right foot and decided to give up. We turned back, and she dragged along with that bum foot.

About half way back, we encountered another pair of cross country skiiers. Of course, I wouldn't recall to her. I didn't charge the people, but the guy kept trying to talk to me and be friendly. Well, you just can't trust a guy who thinks he can befriend every German Shepherd who wanders down the trail. I started barking at him, and that made the woman with him kind of nervous. Boss Lady ordered me into a down, and I grudgingly complied. Hoping to avoid another run in with more skiiers, Boss Lady leashed me well before we reached the trail head. And it was a good thing she did so, because we encountered 2 more skiiers. And then another skiier, plus 2 loose dogs on the snowmobile trail. Fortunately, the dogs were very well behaved and didn't bother me.

Once back on the snowmobile trail, she discovered the problem with her snow shoe. Somehow, she'd managed to accumulate a huge chunk of icey, frozen snow in the crampon of the right snow shoe. The left snow shoe wasn't iced up at all. She tried to chip away the ice, but she couldn't even dent it. Tired, blistered, frustrated by my ill-behaved self, and generally disappointed with the whole adventure, Boss Lady loaded me back into the car and we headed home.

No Turkey Basters Were Harmed In The Making Of This Entry

As it turns out, the soap maybe didn't cause all my distress. Boss Lady took me to the vet this morning. Well, that's not the whole story. First she locked me in the bathroom. Then she left me here all alone. And then she came back and took me to the vet. The vet poked me and prodded me and left me with a naked spot on my leg. He sent me home with orders of no food until further notice. I'm beginning to not like this vet.

Boss Lady brought me back home from the vet, locked me in the bathroom again, and returned to work. When she arrived home this evening, my poor tummy was just a grumbling. Do you know what a tummy feels like when it hasn't been filled with food for 24 hours? It does not feel good. I looked hopefully at Boss Lady when she came through the door. Surely she'd heard from the vet and had been instructed to feed me. It turns out she had heard from the vet, but the direction was not to feed me. Instead, she needed to hydrate me. The diagnosis was Pancreatitis and it's important to keep me full of fluids. That explains the gallon jug of gatorade Boss Lady brought home. It does not, however, explain the turkey baster.



I worried about the purpose of the turkey baster. It obviously had something to do with the gatorade, but I wasn't sure I wanted to know the details of the relationship. Boss Lady explained to me that I was going to ingest at least 1 liter of gatorade whether I wanted to or not and if it came down to it, she would squirt it down my throat with the turkey baster. I was skeptical. She really thought she would be able to get a significant amount of that liquid down my throat with just a turkey baster? Apparently, she's an optimist.

Playing up the optimism, Boss Lady thought she would give me a chance to ingest the gatorade willingly. She poured my 1 liter ration into a water bowl, set it on the floor, and encouraged me to slurp. I sniffed at it. Surprisingly, it didn't sniff too bad. Maybe it was just my empty tummy talking, but the gatorade actually smelled kind of yummy.



I tasted it, and it tasted kind of yummy, too.


So, I consented to slurping down about half the bowl. Boss Lady made me stop because she was afraid of overdoing it. She didn't want to end up cleaning regurgitated gatorade off the kitchen floor. Several hours later, we went through the gatorade routine again. So far, 1 liter of gatorade has been ingested and no turkey basters have been harmed in the making of this cure.

Simple Math

Today I learned something new; one plus one equals explosive diarrhea. This must be some of that new math we keep hearing about. One being a bar of Dove soap of unknown size, and one being a canine digestive system. Explosive diarrhea being exactly what it is. Unfortunately, the explosive diarrhea occurred while I was home alone all day. Aunt A discovered the disaster when she got home this afternoon. I couldn't decide whether to race out and greet her with the excitement of knowing I would finally get to go outside or whether I should run and hide because of the mess I made. Going outside won out. Fortunately, Aunt A understood that the mess wasn't entirely my fault. She even commended me for managing to leave only one mess on a rug, the other seven were on the linoleum or hardwood floors.

So, for tonite Boss Lady is working with the nothing in nothing out theory. If no food goes in, then no diarrhea can come out. I'd like to offer a different perspective on this in and out business. To wit: if no food goes in, then there's gonna be a whole lotta grumpy coming out real quick. I am not a happy puppy when my food routines are disrupted.

You Are Such A Girl

I enjoyed a bonus Wednesday hike today, despite the icky weather. After witnessing all the ice in Pittsford during yesterday's hike, Boss Lady decided to take me there. She really wanted to get me out on the slippery ice and throw snow balls. She wanted to make me slip and slide so she could take funny pictures. Luckily for me, the ice wasn't nearly as slick with the new snow cover. I did slide a little bit, but only to make her feel better. She was determined to get funny pictures of me playing on the ice, though, so she staged a couple. I didn't believe her, but it turns out I could fit underneath the ice.


I could also sit on top. And jump. And bounce. That's some strong ice.




We were experiencing a "wintry mix" according to the weather channel. In plain English, that translates to a mixed bag of shit. We had snow, sleet, and freezing rain. Miraculously, Boss Lady managed to drag out of bed early enough that the roads were still fairly clear and the trail was still in good shape. While we were hiking, the precipitation switched over to freezing rain, leaving us pretty well soaked, but who really cares. The rain didn't bother the mice running around under the snow, so why should it bother me?



About half way through our hike, Boss Lady looked down and discovered big gobs of blood in my foot prints.


She called me back to her and tried to figure out which foot was creating the bloody mess. It was my right front foot. It was really bloody, and she was initially worried that I had cut a pad. Turns out I just broke a nail, though. I snapped it pretty short and hit the quick, hence all the blood. Boss Lady cringed and shook her head. It didn't bother me, though. I didn't make a peep when it happened, which is probably why Boss Lady didn't notice at first. And it didn't slow me down one bit. It did continue bleeding for the rest of the hike, which was about a another mile. And for the 20 minute ride home. And it was still bleeding just a little when we went into the house. It still wasn't bothering me, but Boss Lady really didn't want blood spots all over the rugs. She dumped some corn meal onto a plate and proceeded to prepare my foot for frying. Mmmm. I'd never eaten corn meal before; it's kinda yummy.

Thinking Outside The Box

I was bored last night. Do you ever get bored? When I get bored, I get really annoying. I pace. I paw at people. I bring toy after toy after toy looking for someone to play with me. Boss Lady thought maybe some play time with Squeaky Hedgehog would appease me. Unfortunately, the excitement has worn off Squeaky Hedgehog and I was only amused for about 10 minutes.

Knowing that 10 minutes of fetch wasn't enough to calm me down, Boss Lady dug into the toy box again. This time she came out with Squeaky Fox. I fetched with him for another 10 minutes before showing boredom. Her next dig through the toy box brought out...an empty box. Um, ok. I gave it a sniff and determined it beyond boring. Then Boss Lady dropped one of those yummy Parmesan Cheese biscuits in it, and it's boringness disappeared. Suddenly, it was a very interesting toy.



Once Boss Lady realized what she could convince me to do for a Parmesan Biscuit, she decided to really have fun. We played the put-it-on-Colyn's-head game. First a box. Then bagel. Then Squeaky Hedgehog, and Squeaky Fox, and even a Parmesan Biscuit. Fortunately, Boss Lady didn't manage to get too many embarrasing pictures. Frankly, I don't think that's what Star, Winnie, and Tim had in mind when they sent me those Parmesan Biscuits.

RCHS Update

With the stressful holidays finally behind us, I was able to return to RCHS today and play with one of their pups. RCHS reports a fabulous holiday, in which they made many happy adoptions and are finally down to an acceptable number of cats. I couldn't believe it when I went in and there weren't any cat cages in the hallway. They also adopted quite a few dogs out. Last time I was there, every run was full (about 16 dogs) and today there were only 8 dogs. There were several dogs that looked like fun, but I was informed that Shadow was most in need of play time. And indeed she was.

I was very happy to discover that the road to the Pittsford Trails trailhead is once again passable. The river is still high, about 2-3 feet higher than normal, but it's better than the 5-6 feet it was a couple weeks ago. About 3/4 of the trail seems to be flooded. Fortunately, it is also frozen, and the ice is covered with about 1" of crusty snow for traction. Today was a perfect day for a hike, and Shadow and I enjoyed ourselves immensely. Unfortunately, the camera did not enjoy itself. The batteries died after my 3rd picture. I managed to get a few more, but I was kinda bummed.

I don't know what it is with labs and water, but Shadow just wouldn't stay away from the edge of the river bank. She kept trying to slide over. And once she did manage to slide over whilst I was busy arguing with the camera batteries. Fortunately, the edge of the river is rather frozen and I was able to convince her to climb back up before she got herself in real trouble. Stupid dog.


I informed her, once and for all, that I was not going to allow her near the river. The "bog" on the other side of the trail was nicely frozen, so I allowed her to skid around over there. In between skidding sessions, she sniffed out something under all the dead weeds and snow, and proceeded to dig it out.


She never brought anything out, but she certainly managed to dig herself in there pretty deep.



I think I'll take Colyn over there tomorrow to play on the ice. It really is all ice. And I'll make sure the camera batteries are fully charged.

You Want Me To What?

What does she want?! I have no idea. She gets out the clicker, and we run through the usuals. Down, crawl, circle, turn around, musica (that's my new one! I can play the piano!) Then, she puts this thing on the floor, and it rings like the thing on the wall, but it sounds a little different. You know, the thing that rings, and then a human picks it up and talks to it. I don't know why they talk to it. If they wanted someone to talk to, I'm right there.

Anyway, so she puts this thing on the floor. It's making a strange noise, and it's on the floor, so I go investigate. Click! Oh, boy, I did something she liked. I go claim my treat, and go back to investigate. Another click!! I'm liking this. I get my treat, and back I go to the ringing thing. Only, now it has stopped ringing, and really it's not very interesting, so I turn around when I'm only part way to the ringing thing and I go back to her. No clicks. Wait a minute...where's my click? I look at her, and she's staring at the ringing-but-not-right-now-ringing thing. She's watching it like it's going to attack or something. So, I go rushing over to check this out. We can't have anything attacking her. Click!!! What the heck is going on? I cannot figure out these clicks. She's still watching it, so I better go back over and investigate more closely. Click! Hmmm...... This seems to be working, whenever I get near it, Click! Alright, I don't know why she wants me to, but I'll do it. Except, now I'm practically standing on it and she's not clicking! I swatted it with my foot, I tried to bite it, but she's not clicking. Then, suddenly, randomly, she clicks!

Ok, I don't know who put her in charge of the clicker, but I am going to take responsibility for firing her. This totally random clicking is not helping me at all. Click! now, what was that for!?! Apparently she doesn't like the biting or the foot swatting and she does like the nose. Well, I've got lots of nose, and I don't mind using it. HEY! CAN YOU SEE ME? I'M NOSING ALL OVER THIS THING! Click! finally, thank you. I'm starting to get this, she wants me to only nose on the pick-upable part. Ok, I can do that. Click! Well, that was easy. But, really, couldn't you have just told me that from the beginning? Instead of all this foolishness with the foot swatting and biting. Really, was it that difficult to say: Colyn, I want you to smush your slobbery nose all over the pick-upable part of the ringing thing?

Take Your Dog To Work Day

Apparently, today was Take Your Dog To Work Day. I was not aware of this holiday, nor, in fact, was Boss Lady. Despite our ignorance, Boss Lady managed to comply with this unannounced and secret holiday. You'll want to know how I enjoyed my day at the office, I'm sure. Well, I didn't. That is, I didn't go. Instead, she took my dog hair. Enough hair to make a whole 'nother dog. Or so she says. I think this has something to do with the hair she found in her cocoa while she was working on paperwork. Plus the 3 hairs she found in her pork chops and rice combo she ate for lunch. Not to mention all the hairs clinging to her shirt, sweater, coat, gloves, and even hat. That's what she reported to me this evening, anyway. Are you sure? I asked her. I really shed that much? I don't believe you. You must be cheating on me with some other highly shedding dog.

The Secret Ingredient

In almost all my activities there are special actions I must take to ensure that the activity will occur as I want it to. Boss Lady denies that my special actions have any bearing on the outcome, but I know better. For instance, when riding in the car to a destination, I must whine the entire time. If I don't whine, we won't get there. I don't care what you say, I know it's true. When receiving scritches, I must drape one foot over your hand, arm, leg, whatever. If I don't, it is not possible for you to scritch me. No, I don't know why this is true, I simply know it to be true. When we're playing fetch in the house, I must touch Mr. Green to your toes 4 times, otherwise you won't be able to throw him again. I'm pretty sure there's some kind of lever or sensor or something in your toe that makes your hand work after it has been touched 4 times. Most importantly, when it is supper time, I must spin in a circle at least 3 times while you're carrying the food from the closet to the kitchen. If I were to only spin twice, you wouldn't be able to get to the kitchen. I think you would probably enter some weird alternative dimension where dog food doesn't exist and there is never supper time. You would probably drag me along with you, too. Hence the need for me to spin at least 3 times.

Boss Lady, if you persist in questioning my habits, I may be forced to pull a Busch's Baked Beans sequence. You've seen the commercials, right? With the golden retriever who is forever trying to give away the secret to Busch's Baked Beans. Well, I'd be mighty tempted to give away the secret recipe for the famous Chocolate Chip Cookies.

One Track Mind

It turns out that I have a one track mind. This was discovered this morning. Boss Lady toasted a bagel for breakfast, but she didn't have much time and was forced to consume it whilst also preparing me for my morning trip outside. I wasn't at all interested in the trip outside, I was only interested in the toasted bagel. Toasted bagels are yummy.

Boss Lady had to set down the toasted bagel when she put her boots on. She put the bagel on the bannister; there's this nifty little spot on the railing that is perfect for the setting down of small items. Setting the bagel on the bannister created something of a problem for me. See, I sit in a specific spot while waiting for the door to open. But, I'm also not supposed to get too near Boss Lady's food. She's get downright attitudinous if I dare even think about enjoying a mere sniff of her food. I couldn't sit in my normal door opening spot, because that would put me too near the bagel. At the time, I didn't want to lose sight of the bagel, because you never know when things will fall on the floor and be donated to the dog. One must always be prepared for such occassions. I settled on sitting as far from bagel as possible and staring at it with utter devotion. Boss Lady had to order me out the door.

I hurriedly took care of things outside, and then hurriedly came back inside. I didn't want anything to happen to that toasted bagel while we were gone. Fortunately, nothing had happened. It was sitting in the exact same spot when we re-entered. So, I took up my spot as far away as possible and continued staring. Boss Lady glared at me. She refused to entertain the idea of sharing the toasted bagel. I followed her out to the kitchen, still staring at the bagel. I may have drooled a little bit along the way. Boss Lady became more and more annoyed. Then she looked at the clock, realized she was late, considered whether she was more interested in filling her stomach with the bagel or freezing her hands while she ate the bagel on the drive to work, decided the bagel really wasn't all that important, and tossed it to me. WooHoo! Dog scores toasted cream cheese bagel for breakfast! "Fine. Eat it. It wasn't toasted properly anyways." She said to me, as she rushed out the door. She must be picky, I thought it was toasted just fine. Could have done with more cream cheese, but oh well.