I Will Kill You!

This will be a short post, wordwise, today. Boss Lady and I had a mini-adventure a couple days ago and she brought along her camera. She always brings along her camera. You never know what kind of foolishness I might exhibit. The fun thing about her camera, though, is that it not only takes pictures, but it also takes videos. She decided to use the video feature quite a bit during our mini-adventure. She thought she might show everybody how thorough my obsession with sticks is. My apologies for the video quality. It's not like I can afford a professional, you know.

First, we have a fairly straight forward video of me battling a stick. Notice how the stick keeps trying to knock me in the head, but I'm always too quick and manage to duck out of the way.



Next, we have me battling the stick again, this time with Boss Lady pretending she's a matador or something. Boss Lady asks that you please disregard the part at the end where I ignore her. *Note: No Boss Ladies were injured in the making of these videos. At least, not gravely.*



Finally, we have an illustration of how quickly I can dispatch a stick. Boss Lady kindly kept track of how many branches I broke off this stick. Again, Boss Lady requests that you disregard the part where I ignore her. Mostly, I don't ignore her, but sometimes I do. Which is why I have to run around on a leash.

RCHS Update

Yesterday morning I hiked with Reno again. He really is very sweet. I was actually thinking about taking out Shadow, but then I forgot to bring Colyn's large harness. Once I got a look at him, I knew there was no way the smaller harness would fit Shadow. Reno was perfectly happy to go out again, though. He was sleeping on his little platform bed in his run when I arrived, but he popped up when I came in and said his name. He was very excited about coming out with me. He was also very opposed to the notion of wearing a harness. He dodged and darted and ducked his head for almost a minute before I finally managed to wrestle it over his head. Once he was all dressed and leashed, he dragged me outside and headed for my car. I insisted he piddle before getting into my car, so he managed to squeeze out a few drops, before racing over to the car again. He hopped right in and sat down politely.




Now, you'll remember that I've only hiked with Reno one other time, so it's not as if he would be familiar with the ride to the trail. But, the closer we got to the trailhead, the more excited he became. As we crossed the one lane covered bridge, he could barely contain himself. He was bouncing around and talking loudly. You'll note I said talking, not barking. Reno doesn't seem to bark, but he does talk some. As soon as I opened the door, he bounded out ready for an adventure.



The first thing he did was run to the edge of the bank and think about sliding down to the river. I told him in no uncertain terms that such an attempt would be very, very foolish and would result in his immediate return to RCHS for drying off. He seemed to take me seriously.


He didn't stop watching the river, though. Apparently, he found it quite intriguing.



I did allow him to get a drink when we reached a suitable place. Surprisingly, he was very careful about it and hardly even got his toes wet.



He also found ample opportunities for practicing his nifty invisibility trick. If not for that brightly coloured flower harness, you'd hardly be able to see him.



He bounced along through the hike, sniffing at this and peeing on that. He was very polite while I stopped to take pictures of the river (most of which are posted over on the adventure blog that you probably didn't know I had). And he didn't mind too much when I insisted on pulling out all the burdocks as soon as I noticed he'd collected them. He even sat down and calmly waited while I took more pictures of the river.



He was a little annoyed when he saw these fun tracks going across the icy river. He wanted to follow them, using the argument that if the ice was thick enough to support that critter, then it must be thick enough to support him. I disagreed and refused to let him test his theory.



He only sulked for a few minutes before I found another appropriate place to allow him to get a drink.


When we arrived back at the car, he was just as excited about going for a ride as he had been about going for a hike. I'm pretty sure he would have been perfectly happy hiking for another hour, but as soon as he saw the car he was perfectly happy to hop in and enjoy the ride. He's really just such a happy dog.

Well, That's Not Very Nice

A couple mornings ago, one of Boss Lady's Mother's cousins stopped in to visit. While I enjoy visitors, it does sometimes take me a little while to calm down and relax. And, not all visitors enjoy me sniffing and nosing at them. Boss Lady usually makes it a point to distract me with tricks and toys until both the guest and I are feeling comfortable. On this particular morning, after we'd run out of all our tricks, Boss Lady sent me to find Bagel. I dutifully brought it back and tossed it at her. After a couple rounds of toss and fetch, and some halfhearted tugging, Boss Lady decided to try something new. She loves to put Bagel on my head and watch me shake it off. Usually I won't allow it to sit on my head for even two seconds. This particular morning, though, it didn't bother me. Boss Lady plopped it onto my head, and I just left it there. Then something would catch my attention and I would move my head too suddenly and off would slide Bagel. Boss Lady would pick it up and put it back on my head, where I would let it sit. Boss Lady, Boss Lady's Mother and the guest were delighted by this new game (humans really are so very easy to entertain). When she got out the camera, though, I thought maybe I was in trouble. She proceeded to snap several pictures. I worried about what she might do with those pictures. Surely she wouldn't post them on my blog? No. She couldn't possibly be that mean.



Obviously, I was wrong. She can be that mean.


You know, this whole bagelhead thing is not contributing positively to my image as a handsome, studly dog. I think we should discontinue this game immediately.

Is It Better Now?

As you've probably already discovered, Boss Lady decided to do some major tweaking on the blog today. First off, she decided to go ahead and change the header picture. While she really thought the poo picture was perfect, a lot of you weren't so sure. The results of the poll were as follows: 1 of you thought it was awful, 8 of you thought it was weird (or maybe you chose that because you think I'm weird), and 5 of you thought it was perfect. I'm guessing that those who are familiar with myself and the blog weren't so bothered by the picture, and those who were passersby were a little bit squicked out by it. So, we'll try a different picture and see how you readers respond.

Second of all, you'll notice that everything is a little bit wider. Boss Lady likes it better this way. Being wider also allows me to add the "reactions" feature. The reactions are: Moosalamoo, Pine Hill Park, or Walk Around the Block. These are different adventures and mini-adventures I often experience and their value coincides with the value of the adventure. If you need further explanation, here you go. Moosalamoo=hiking, which is great; frequent off leash opportunites, which is wonderful; and the option for short afternoon hikes or long day hikes, which is just perfect. Pine Hill Park=hiking, which is great; always on the long leash, which is better than the short leash; and only short afternoon hikes, which is good. Walk Around the Block=walking, which is better than nothing; on the short leash, which is better than nothing; and not longer than 1 hour, which is better than nothing. In short Moosalamoo is a great rating, Pine Hill Park is a good rating, and Walk Around the Block is a kind of blah rating. After this long winded explanation, I expect to see a lot of you using this feature.

In the next few days you can expect to see more tweaks, of a much more minor aspect. Pictures will surely be added. The template might be changed a little bit more. I might even institute a regular weekly poll.

I encourage you to post replies, responses, and thoughts regarding the layout, content, etc. I promise to take all under consideration.

P.S. My sincerest apologies for forgetting to mention that the most wonderful person in the world played an integral role in helping me collage the new header picture. I'm very grateful to her. You should be, too. If it wasn't for her, you'd still be looking at the poop picture.

I Do Not Take Whoa For An Answer

This afternoon, Boss Lady’s Mother was vacuuming the house. The vacuum and I use to be bitter enemies. Every time it appeared, I would follow it around the house trying to attack it. We have since come to terms and are, mostly, able to co-exist peacefully. Today, as Boss Lady’s Mother was vacuuming the hallway into the living room, I decided that I needed to be in the living room. So, I barged past Boss Lady’s Mother, and started shoving the vacuum out of the way. Boss Lady’s Mother hollered, “Whoa!” but I ignored her and shoved my way through. Boss Lady, who witnessed the event, just laughed and commented, “Colyn isn’t the sort of dog who takes Whoa for an answer.” I thought it was a rather observant observation.

As she chuckled to herself about her witty comment, she thought to herself about just how true it is. The other day we were out in the yard, when a squirrel came running across the yard towards the tree. I immediately decided to chase it, despite the fact that I was connected to Boss Lady with a 6 foot leash and the squirrel was at least 15 feet away. Boss Lady hollered, “Whoa!” but I ignored her. She had to physically restrain me. Then, today, we went to the pet store to pick up dog food. Can you believe that she let me totally run out of dog food before going to buy more? I know, it’s totally unacceptable, but she doesn’t seem to see the problem. Anyway, as we walked in the door at the pet store, one of the employees was playing fetch with her fat little Chihuahua. She threw the toy right in front of the door and the Chi was running past just as I stepped in. Well, I immediately tried to chase the toy, too. Of course I was chasing the toy, I would never dream of chasing the Chi. Chi’s don’t taste good, they’re way too spicy and I end up with heartburn or indigestion. Anyway, Boss Lady hollered, “Whoa!” at me, but I just ignored her. After she promised to get me a treat, I finally agreed to sit quietly while she got the dog food and paid for it. And there are countless other times when somebody hollered, “Whoa!” and I ignored it. See, I’m just not the sort of dog who takes Whoa for an answer. Life would be so boring if I stopped every time they told me to.

He's Not As Helpful As Me, Though

Boss Lady was supposed to do laundry on Tuesday, which is her day off, but she was busy and lazy and didn’t bother. Which meant she had to do laundry on Wednesday, which is the day she goes in late. First thing in the morning, she stripped the sheets off her bed and threw them in the laundry. She hoped to have them washed and dried and be able to remake the bed before she left for work, so that she didn’t have to do it when she got home from work at 10:30pm. She prefers to reserve that time slot for playing on the internet. Unfortunately, she didn’t think to check the drier when she started the washer. So, it wasn’t until the sheets were ready to go in the drier that she discovered an only partially dry load of towels already in the drier. She had to finish drying that before she could dry her own sheets, which meant she didn’t have time to remake the bed before leaving for work.

Then, of course, when she got home she didn’t feel like making the bed. She felt like sitting down to relax and see what fun had occurred in the land of social networking. She figured she would simply cut short her internet time and leave herself 10 minutes to make the bed. It shouldn’t have taken longer than 10 minutes. It’s just a matter of putting some sheets and a blanket on the bed and then arranging the pillows. It never takes longer than 10 minutes. On Wednesday, when she really needed to go to bed relatively early because she had to be to work earlier than usual the next morning, it took almost 30 minutes. Why so long? you ask. I’ll tell you. Because she had quite a bit of help making her bed. Let me tell you how it went.

When she arrived home from work, Tyrone came racing from the neighbor’s yard and streaked through the front door with her. He begged for some food, and then he came into the living room where he curled up on the couch and fell asleep. This was all very normal. When it’s cold out, Tyrone prefers to spend the night sleeping on the comfy couch in the toasty warm living room; he does not prefer to sleep in a bedroom upstairs. On Wednesday, though, he must have decided to give the bedroom a try, because, when Boss Lady went upstairs to make the bed and go to sleep, Tyrone followed her. He followed her right into her room, hopped up on the bed, curled up, and fell asleep.

Boss Lady looked at him, put her hands on her hips, and explained to him that this was not going to work. She could not very well make the bed with a cat sleeping in the middle of it. He would simply have to move. She told him he was welcome to return when she was finished, but he had to move for the moment. Tyrone ignored Boss Lady. Figuring that he would simply decide to leave rather than be covered up, Boss Lady began making the bed. She started, of course, with the fitted sheet. She put on the first corner, and waited to see if Tyrone would leave. He didn’t. She put on the 2nd corner and looked at him again. He rolled over and looked back at her. He did not seem amused. Note the flashing of sharp meat hooks.




She put on the 3rd corner and looked at him again. He remained unbothered.




In annoyance, she put on the 4th, and last corner and waited for Tyrone’s response.

He stayed put, forming a nice lump in the middle of her bed.




Boss Lady proceeded to poke, prod, shake, and generally harass Tyrone in an effort to piss him off. Her efforts worked nicely, and pretty quickly she could see his tail twitching through the sheet.




After he was thoroughly annoyed, he decided it was time to move, and he tried to crawl out from under the sheet. Boss Lady kindly lifted a corner to let him out.



He then promptly flopped down in the middle of the bed again.




Boss Lady just looked at him. Then she poked him and prodded him, hoping to get him to move. He just rolled over as if he wanted his belly scratched.




She gave up trying to move him, and put on the flat sheet. Then they went through the poking, prodding, and harassing routine until he decided to move. Again, he popped out from under the sheet and immediately curled up in the middle of the bed. At which point, Boss Lady covered him with the heavy wool blanket. Then she poked and prodded him. This time Tyrone decided to play along and he tried to swat at Boss Lady’s hands. He poked all his claws through the blanket. He twitched his tail. He rolled around. Then he finally decided to come out and curl up in the middle of the bed again.





Comfortable with the routine, Boss Lady tossed her homemade quilt over Tyrone and left him alone. All on his own, he got annoyed with being covered up and he crawled out. Then he got annoyed with the pillows and he attacked them. Finally, almost 30 minutes after Boss Lady started the process, her bed was made and she could go to sleep. Except, that she had to figure out how to get herself into the bed, which was, at that point, being hogged by a cat. Knowing that Tyrone would not take kindly to being picked up and moved, Boss Lady decided to just crawl in and hope for the best. The best ended up being a cat very excited to play a new game involving the attacking of toes and fingers through 3 layers of bedding.




The next morning, Boss Lady related this story to Boss Lady’s Mother in exasperation. And Boss Lady’s Mother explained that she plays this game with Tyrone every time she makes her bed. Boss Lady’s Mother and Tyrone think the game is quite entertaining. Boss Lady, not so much.

Now You're Looking For A Fight

Boss Lady and Boss Lady’s Mother took me for a walk today. It wasn’t an adventure, it wasn’t even a mini-adventure, but it was better than being stuck in the house all day. We took the usual route, which involves walking up the hill past the two dogs that are sometimes outside and bark at me, walking down the other side of the hill past the cedar hedge that Boss Lady won’t let me pee on, through the swamp where Boss Lady does let me pee, and then past the house that has only had a dog outside a couple times but I always remember to check. It also involves walking past the house with the 2-3 dogs outside in the yard who sound like they want to kill me. Boss Lady and I both dislike those dogs because we’ve had words with their owner.

Today, as we rounded the corner where that house sits, Boss Lady’s Mother went a little ahead of us and out into the road to scout for us. She reported that the dogs weren’t out, and we continued without any problems. But, passing the house jogged Boss Lady’s memory and she told Boss Lady’s Mother about what happened the other day. Boss Lady and I were taking a walk, along the usual route, and as we turned the corner and approached That House, we were met face to face by the more vicious of the dogs, a black and white BC looking dog. Instead of being hitched in the yard where it’s at least 3-4 feet from the sidewalk, it was hitched to the front of the house, where it can practically step into the road, and it has complete control of the sidewalk. As soon as it saw us it started barking ferociously. Boss Lady stopped and looked at it. She waited for someone to come outside and control the dog. When no one came outside, we were forced to step out into the middle of the road to walk past the house.

Boss Lady was furious. After that time the owner accused us of being the reason his dogs bark, she has had it out for him. But, there was nothing she could do to him. Despite their barking and annoying behavior, the dogs were always chained in the yard and couldn’t actually reach the sidewalk. There was no legitimate reason Boss Lady could call animal control to complain. Recently, though, the owner is giving Boss Lady more and more reasons to complain. Twice in the last couple months the dogs have been loose, completely loose, in the yard when we walked by. Fortunately for all of us, the owner noticed us before the dogs did and he took them inside. Now we have the dog chained on the sidewalk, blocking the way for all pedestrians. Boss Lady can’t wait for it to happen again. You can bet she’ll be on the phone as soon as we get home. Boss Lady is not a lady to mess with when it comes to my safety.

Grey's Anatomy According To Boss Lady

I was all worried about what to write in my blog today. After teasing somedog else for slacking off with his posts, I felt compelled to make sure I posted today. And, after reading another somedog else's riveting blog today, I felt compelled to make sure I posted a really good blog today. Unlike the other somedog else, a really funny thing didn't happen to me today. A really normal thing happened to me today: I got left home alone. Blah. Blah. Blah. Until a few minutes ago, when a really funny thing did happen. It was also an educational thing. I received a rather detailed lesson in anatomy.

It all started when Boss Lady's Mother returned from grocery shopping. After all the bags of grocery were in the house, Boss Lady set to putting them away. She grabbed the cold stuff first. A couple bags of english muffins, some bagels, a big pack of chicken breasts all needed to go in the freezer. In order for it all to fit, some rearranging was necessary. During which Boss Lady picked up an odd item. A single hot dog, wrapped tightly in tin foil, and frozen. Boss Lady held it up for all to see and inquired as to whether or not it was really a hot dog, and not, possibly, something naughty. Aunt A, sounding horrified, inquired as to why anyone would want something that cold near her cha-cha.

"Cha-cha?" asked Boss Lady.

"No, not cha-cha, ta-ta." Replied Boss Lady's Mother.

"Wrong. Ta-ta's are up here." Explained Aunt A.

"And ninnies. Ninnies are up there, too." Added Boss Lady.

"Ninnies?" Echoed Aunt A and Boss Lady's Mother.

"Yes, ninnies." And Boss Lady proceeded to relate the story she recently read regarding ninnies and horrible mistreatment thereof.

Aunt A and Boss Lady's Mother made appropriately horrified comments at all the right places and then Aunt A, who is, though not currently employed as, a vet tech, added her own story to the mix. While working the reception desk one day, she received a call from a woman saying she wanted the vet to look at her dog's 'box.' Aunt A, totally mystified, asked the woman to repeat herself.

"Her, you know, box. Her 'back there.'"

"Ok, well, which part of her back there?" Asked Aunt A, still totally confused about the problem.

"Um. Ok. I need the vet to check my dog's.....'area.' Her 'personal area.'"

"Ah! Alright. Let's seen when the vet is available." Said Aunt A, finally understanding what the woman was trying to say.

According to Aunt A, many pet owners have a lot of difficulty using the anatomically appropriate names for the dog's vagina.

"And the penis, too!" says Aunt A, motioning to me, I suppose as an example of one armed with a penis.

"No, no, no. That's not a penis, it's a pink highliter. I learned this from Dogster, from one who isn't shy about flashing it around. Or, alternatively, it's a protractor." And Boss Lady explained how those nicknames became. Something to do with studying geometry and for the Mdogs, with a lot of excitement.

"Oh, I've got a much better one." Claimed Aunt A. "Back this summer when I was up at the farm hiking with L and Rusty the dog. Well, Rusty has a little problem with containing his 'donger' when he's really excited. L turned to me and ask why Rusty's donger keeps falling out. You try explaining to a 4 year old why the dog's 'donger' keeps falling out, in such a way that her teacher will not be phoning the next day asking what L is witnessing at home. I had to come up with some story about underwear and how Rusty's skin is his underwear and that's why you can't always see Rusty's 'donger. I thought I did a pretty good job."

So, there you have it. A discussion starting a frozen hot dog, and ending with a dog's donger. I hope you feel more enlightened and educated than I did after that discussion.

RCHS Update

Today's visit to the RCHS introduced me to Reno. He looks surprisingly like a coyote, doesn't he?


He's very sweet, though. His write up says he doesn't like to be handled, but he didn't mind putting on his harness at all. Well, except for the fact that it's all pinks and purples and flowers, and coyote look-a-likes don't wear flowers. Reno, and I just have to say that I think that name is all wrong for him. I don't have any suggestions, but Reno doesn't fit. Reno loves butt scritches, and neck scritches, and head scritches, and pretty much any scritches he can receive. I took him for a hike in Pittsford, and he was very well behaved. He's pretty laid back, but don't be fooled; there's still some puppy in there. Or maybe it's just Husky mischievousness. He wanted to chase the stick I picked up, and he got all bouncy in the tall grass. He even wanted to go wading in the river. What is it with dogs and water when it's cold?!? I do not allow swimming when it's only 40 degrees. Sheesh.

He wasn't very cooperative with the camera. He refused to turn around and look at me, so my first few photos were of his butt. Then I realized that if I wrapped the rope around a sign post, then I could anchor him in place while I walked around to face him. Even with that trick, he wasn't very cooperative.

He was pretty sure there was something behind him, and it was far more interesting than some chick in front of him with a camera. By the by, he doesn't know the word biscuit, or treat, or popcorn, or cookie.



He was disgusted that I wouldn't let him go where he wanted. He was annoyed at the anchoring. This is the dirty look he gave me. I ended up with lots of dirty look pictures.





When it became obvious that his dirty look wasn't going to sway me, he opted to just look pathetic. Why is it that dogs with bat ears can do such a great pathetic look?




When the pathetic look didn't earn him any freedom, either, he tapped into his husky side and told me exactly what he thought about the photo shoot. And he wasn't exactly polite.




Did you notice the blurry tail in these pictures? That's because his tail never stopped wagging during the entire hike. Seriously. He wagged and wagged and wagged. Everything was waggingly terrific. Riding in the car was fun (and he was very well behaved), getting out of the car was fun, getting into the car was fun, hiking was fun. Basically, everything was fun, and everything warranted tail wagging.

False Accusations

This evening Aunt A clomped down the stairs, partially eaten bag of potato chips in hand, and inquired as to whether or not Boss Lady had moved said bag of potato chips at some point during the day. Boss Lady answered to the negative and waited for Aunt A to continue. "Well," said Aunt A, "I was positive I put the bag of chips next to my computer last night. I remember closing the bag and setting it down and putting the computer against it to keep it closed."

"And?" Prompted Boss Lady.

"I thought maybe you had noticed it sitting within reach of the dog and you'd moved it, or something."

"And?" Prompted Boss Lady again, the whole time anticipating an accusation involving a certain furry four legged animal and an empty bag of chips.

"And, I just found the bag on the other side of the room, inside another plastic bag." Replied Aunt A as she carefully removed a chip from the bag, sniffed it, and then ingested it.

"If you're accusing Colyn of moving your bag of potato chips across the room and then putting it inside another bag, then you're barking up the wrong tree." Boss Lady laughed hysterically.

"Yeah, I didn't really think he would do that. I guess I'm remembering wrong."

Safely cleared of the potato chip thievery charge, I continued sleeping on the floor. I did make a mental note of the fact that, should I feel hungry in the middle of the night, there might be a bag of potato chips to be found in Aunt A's room.

A couple hours later, Boss Lady's Mother lodged another accusation. It seems Boss Lady's Mother was enjoying a steaming cup of tea at work this afternoon, when she discovered what appeared to be a black hair floating in it. Apparently the fact that I am covered in black hair caused her to immediately blame me. Nevermind the fact that I was not anywhere near Boss Lady's Mother's place of work, not to mention her cup of tea. Boss Lady pointed out this fact in my defense. Her Mother noted it was true, and also noted that I probably shed the hair on her sweater this morning just so that it could fall in her tea this afternoon.

What happened to innocent until proven guilty?