Thursday, December 30, 2010

Sink Hole


Jib here.

Zoe digs. She digs holes. She digs holes in lawns.

She digs holes in MY lawn.

When she digs holes in my lawn, Mom puts her in jail.

Mom says we have a new sink hole in my lawn.


I hope we are safe.

I hope the house doesn't fall into it.

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Note From Mom


Sailor, Jib and Zoe here.

Mom left us a note.

She read it to us. This is what it said:


"Dogs: while three of you were sleeping this morning, I was on the elliptical. While two of you were sleeping, I was running agility with the third. I just took all three of you for a LONG walk. I know supper is late. I need to put my feet up for a few minutes.

"There will be no ringing for the butler. There will be no yelling, yipping, or rowrr-rowrr-ing. There will be no booping me with noses, long or short, especially short. And no roughhousing around the coffee table, either.

"Please. A little courtesy is in order."


Hmmmph.


Sunday, December 26, 2010

Sunny, not funny. Or fun.


Sailor here.

Mom looked outside and said, "Oboy! Sun!"

Was it a good day for a walk?
Was it a good day for a romp in the park?
Was it a good day for heeling and cookies?

NO!

It was a good day for a bath.

Bah humbug.

Saturday, December 25, 2010

Lamb!!


Zoe here.

I got a lamb!

I got a lamb!

I got a lamb!

And it's all mine!!


Tiger!!



Sailor here.


I got a tiger!


I got a tiger!


I got a tiger!


I am happy!!

Duck!!!



Jib here.


I got a duck!


I got a duck!


I got a duck!


I am unstuffing my duck!

Friday, December 24, 2010

Mary Crispyness

Sailor here.

Mom told me the story of Crispyness. She told Zoe and Jib, too. It is a story about a puppy and his hot dogs, bubble gum, and cookies.


Long ago in another part of the world, a puppy was born. He was a special puppy. He was born in a barn and his eyes were open as soon as he was dry. He saw lambs and sheep and dogs and angels and a donkey. The puppy was wrapped in a puppy quilt to keep him warm. He went to sleep in the donkey's food bin and the donkey didn't mind. Not one bit.

When the puppy was born, the sky had holes in it. A big star shone through the holes. It was brighter than all the other stars. It was like Mom's big flashlight, only higher. Much higher. The star led the Three Amigos to the barn. They smoked Camels and were Kings. They were also wise, but Mom says smoking is really bad for you, so maybe they were just Kings. They brought presents to the puppy. They brought Solid Gold crispy cookies, frankfurters and dried bubble gum.

The puppy's Mom was named Mary. She loved her puppy very much. His Dad was old and named Joseph, and he loved the puppy, too. The angels sang to the puppy and a little boy played his drum for him and when he stopped drumming, all was peaceful in the barn. The sheep and lambs and dogs and angels and the donkey were all best friends on that night.

This is why we say "Mary Crispyness." Because of the puppy's Mom. And the cookies.

And this is why my Mom gives me toys and treats and extra lovings.

Because the puppy was so special.

He made me special, too.

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Bah. Humbug.


Zoe here.

Mom took me to the DogWash.

Mom washed me. She blew my coat dry.
She says she spent the afternoon in a miasma of dog hair. She really talks like that.

I am fluffy. I am clean.

So why am I still in jail?


Saturday, December 18, 2010

Rain Rain Go Away Again

Zoe here.
I am sulking.
Mom brought me inside.
She says I can't sleep in the rain today.
She says I need to dry off.
She says I will meet someone called Mildred if I stay wet.
Or something.

So I am sulking.

Sunday, December 5, 2010

Mom's Home!

Sailor here.

Mom's home!
Mom's home!!

Mom's HOME!!!

Saturday, November 27, 2010

Walkies?


Jib here.

Rain again.

No walkies.

Now it's dark.

Mom says no walkies in the dark.

The streets try to trecher us.

She doesn't want to be trechered.

Too many holes to step in.

And other things to step in.

Sailor says, Hmmmmph.

I say, Walkies anyway!!!


Thursday, November 25, 2010

Game Hen Day


Sailor here.

Mom is thawing my dinner. She's thawing Jib and Zoe's dinners, too.

She says today is Turkey Day and people everywhere are being Thankful for Family and Turkeys.

But Zoe says today is Game Hen Day and dogs everywhere are being thankful for Mom and Game Hens.

Thank you, Mom.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

Crunchy


Sailor here.


The grass is crunchy.


The leaves are crunchy.


It is cold.


I love it!!


Tuesday, November 23, 2010

Happy Dogs!!



Sailor here.


Jib here.


Zoe here.


We are happy! We had walkies! In the sunshine! In the wind!


(Jib): My ears were blown up, both of them.


(Zoe): My ears are always up!


(Sailor): I kept my ears in my frill to tell Mom I know she's the boss.


(Mom): My ears are frozen.

Rain Rain Go Away


Jib here.

Mom brushed me. Then she brushed Sailor.

Then she brushed Zoe. That took a long, long time.

She threw away lots of dog hair. Then she put poop bags in her pocket. She grabbed some cookies and headed to the front door.

We followed her.

Sailor yipped.

Mom tripped. Over Zoe.

Just as she reached for my leash, it rained.

It poured.

The rain went sideways.

Mom said No Walk Right Now.

Not fair!!!! I track in the rain. Can't I WALK in the rain?
Mom said my face would get wet.

Oh.

Yeah.

I am waiting for the rain to stop.


Sunday, November 21, 2010

After the Rain


Sailor here.

I love the grass after it rains.

It smells wonderful.

It smells mysterious.

It smells like...like...

Like everything in the world.

I love the grass after it rains.


Rain Zoe


Sailor here.

Zoe sleeps in the rain.

She comes inside all soggy.

Her fur tufts in the rain.

Mom dries her and brushes her, but her fur still tufts.

Mom says nobody can shed like a husky.

Not even me.


Thursday, November 18, 2010

Recall Games


Jib here.

Mom plays games with me. Yesterday she played Dumbbell Games. Today she is playing Come! Games. She calls them Recall Games.

She leaves me sitting and walks away. She says Stay. The staying isn't fun.

Then she turns and looks at her feet. The staying still isn't fun.

But then Mom starts the game. The game is fun!

She calls Come! I run. I run to Mom.

Sometimes she puts her hand in the air. I drop.

Sometimes she calls Drop! I drop.

Sometimes she stands there and just before I reach her, she turns and runs away. I get to chase her.

Sometimes she throws a ball through her knees right before I get to her. This is tricky for me because she doesn't move her feet. She just moves her knees. She makes a tunnel for me to run through. I chase the ball.

Sometimes she runs away from me when I chase the ball and hides. I find her! I find her behind the high jump. I find her behind the oak tree. Sometimes I find her on the grass, lying down. Then she makes me Sit. I have to sit even though her head is lower than mine.

Sometimes she calls me and dances and claps when I reach her. I get to dance and jump!

Sometimes she calls me and walks away and says Heel when she sees me near her with the eyes she has on the back of her head. I have to heel.

Sometimes she throws my ball and when I run back to her, she says Front! I have to sit in front of her and wait for her to throw my ball again.

Mom says Recall Games make running to her fun. They make me fast! She likes fast.

So do I.

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Dumbbell Games


Jib here.

Mom is playing games with me. She calls them Dumbell Games. They are not dumb. They are fun.

Mom makes me sit. Then she throws my dumbbell. I want to run to it. I don't want to wait.I lift my paw....

But Mom says I can't run to my dumbbell. I have to wait. I have to wait until she tells me to Get It.


Then she makes waiting fun.

Sometimes she throws the dumbbell and instead of saying Get It, Mom says Heel and turns around. I have to stay in heel position. I have to sit. With my back to the dumbbell.
Then Mom says Heel again and turns back. THEN she says Get It!

I get to get it!

Sometimes she throws the dumbbell and instead of saying Get It, she says Let's Go! And runs away from me. She runs away from the dumbbell. I get to chase her. Fun!

And sometimes she throws the dumbbell and instead of saying Get It, she says Stay and walks around me. If I move, she puts me back. If I don't move, we have a party! Then I get to get it!

Sometimes she heels off with me and drops the dumbbell somewhere behind me. When we get across the grass, she turns and sends me to the dumbbell. I get to find it and get it!

Sometimes she leaves me in a Sit Stay. She walks across the grass. I think she is going to call Come! But instead she drops my dumbbell while she walks away. She turns and calls me. But instead of saying Come!, she says Get It! I get to Get It and then run to Mom. That is the most fun of all.

I LIKE dumbbell games!

Today I was so excited about finally getting to Get It that I dropped the dumbbell. Right out of my mouth. Mom wasn't pleased. I won't do THAT again.

Monday, November 15, 2010

Bark Bark Bark


Sailor here.

I bark.


I bark to tell the world someone is coming. Or going. Or walking down the street. Or the driveway next door.

I bark.

Jib barks, too. He barks when people come and go or walk down the street.
He barks when the Tibetan Terror down the block barks. When she barks, Jib can't NOT bark. Her bark does that to him.

Jib also barks to go outside. And to come inside.

Jib barks at squirrels. Jib barks at Zoe. Zoe can't hear him, but he barks at her anyway.

He barks when he wants Mom to feed me. Or throw his Frisbee. Or when he is on the grooming table and Mom forgets to release him.

He barks way more than me.

Mom says she's going to change his name to Vuvuzela.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Groups??


Jib here.

Mom is getting serious. She makes me STAY. All the time. In different places.

She makes it hard. She leaves me outside and says, "STAY." Then she goes inside and puts my breakfast on the floor.

If I pop up, she comes out and makes me right. Every time.
Then she leaves me somewhere else and I can't move. And if I do, she comes from out of sight and makes me right. Each time. Every time.

Mom says she is seriously practicing our Group Exercises for Open. Whatever that means.

Zoe says it means I have to Stay in the position she left me. No matter what.

Zoe says Groups mean more than just me and Sailor and her. Groups means lot of dogs.

I don't SEE lots of dogs. I only see me and Sailor and Zoe.

So how can we practice Groups without lots of dogs, Mom ?

And why can't I roll on the grass or jump up to see what you are doing? And where do you go when I have to Stay and I can't see you and you can't see me, but you know when I sit up or roll on the grass?

Are you magic?


I don't much like Groups....

Saturday, November 13, 2010

Happy Birthday to ME!




Sailor here.

Mom kissed me first thing in the morning. She gave me a special breakfast with eggs, meat, and two whole cookies! She kissed me again and said, "Happy birthday, my Sailor!"

Jib just got his regular breakfast. So did Zoe.

Mom says I am twelve today. That's in dog years. In people years, Mom and I are probably about the same.

In honor of me, Mom had my portrait painted by her friend, Emily Barton. She hung it in the Pouting Room.
Now my picture will cheer her up whenever she feels like pouting.

I wonder what I will have for my birthday supper....

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

I Was Robbed!

Jib here.

Mom made a sandwich. She cut something up and mixed something else into a can of tuna. She opened drawers and cupboards.

When she was done, she asked me to close the cupboard.

I did.

She asked me to close the drawer.

I did.

Then I sat. "Pay me," I said.

Mom paid me. She gave me a piece of salary.

I don't LIKE salary. But I ate it before Sailor could.

I was robbed! Again.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Fairweather Sailor?


Not Me!!

Jib here.

Mom and I went tracking. In the rain. In the wind. In the mud.
My face got wet. My feet got wet. But the rest of me stayed dry.

Mom's face got wet. Her hands got wet. But the rest of her stayed dry.

Her boots got muddy.

And I found the CHEESE!!!!


Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Yum!

Jib here.

Mom made a yummy breakfast for me. She gave some to Sailor and Zoe, too.


Mom said it was a doggy version of leftover Hallo Weenies. It smelled like pork. Sailor said it tasted like pork. I ate mine too fast to taste pork.


But it was yummy!

Zoe didn't eat hers. She is not a pork lover. But she wanted to see if I ate the same thing or if I ate something she liked better.

I think she was disappointed.

Saturday, October 30, 2010

Hallo! Weenie!


Sailor here.

My favorite day is here. People come to the door and ring the doorbell.

Jib and I get to bark and bark.

Then we have to lie down.

Mom opens the door and little people say, "Hallo! Weenie?"

I wait for weenies. Jib does, too.

If I don't get up, I get a slice of weenie!

Jib does, too.

If I get up, no weenies.

Some HalloWeenie Day, I may get a whole weenie!

Mom says Hope springs eternal. What ever that means.
Does she mean my sheltie friend, Hope? I'd love to see her spring!



Family portrait


Sailor here.

Mom and I had our picture taken. Jib and Zoe did, too. Mom's sister came to visit from far away just so she could take our picture.

Mom says we are all doing typical things in the picture.

Mom is smiling because she always smiles when I am nearby.

I am smiling and watching Mom because I always watch Mom. I smile because I love her. I watch her because I love her. And because I don't want to miss anything.

Jib is watching Mom's sister because he doesn't want to miss anything either.

Zoe is smiling with her eyes all smile-crinkled because she always smiles. And she doesn't care if she misses anything. She is happy anyway.

Monday, October 25, 2010

Stay on Recall


Jib here.

I sat. I stayed. I didn't fidget. I didn't get up.

Mom was very proud. She stood for a long time.

But I am ready to run to her.

I just know she's going to call, "Come!"

Any second now.


Friday, October 22, 2010

Looking out the Window


Sailor here.

Jib sleeps. I sleep.

While we sleep, Mom says she makes quilts.

She throws thread onto the floor and cuts and irons.

She mumbles to herself.

But she made me another quilt. It is called Attic Windows.

She wishes she could see this out of our attic window.

She loves the sea.

And she loves me.

Best of all.

I am her Sailor.

Snore


Jib here.

I am bored. So I've been sleeping.

I follow Mom upstairs and sleep. Mom sits in her twirly chair and throws thread onto the floor. Then she gets up and makes me move.

She does hot things and funny things with sharp things. Then she sits down and throws more thread on the floor.

I am bored.


So I sleep.

Sunday, October 3, 2010

Gordon Gecko

Jib here.

Mom says, "Green is Good."

But second place gets me a Wubba and lots of chicken!




Saturday, October 2, 2010

Lassie Schmassie


Jib here.

Mom and I went to a dog show today. A real dog show. Mom says I was a trial. But that she can't fault me for being a Lassie.

We went into the ring. Mom was happy. I was happy.

Then I heard anger. I smelled anger. I smelled a scared dog. I smelled an angry man. I smelled an upset woman. They were behind the bushes.

I forgot to sit when Mom stopped. I was busy smelling the anger.

Mom told me to Heel and I heeled. But I was worried. I forgot to sit again because we were even closer to the angry man.

Was the angry man going to leap out of the bushes at Mom?

I managed to pay attention to Mom. But when she left me and walked across the ring, the anger got louder and smellier.

Mom called me.

I came.

And I ran past Mom. I ran under the tapes. I stopped in the right place to protect Mom.

I stood and listened to Mom with one of my ears and listened to the angry man with my other one. I wasn't going to let him come near us.

Mom called me again and I came to her.

Mom said I was a good Lassie. The Judge said Too Bad, Really Too Bad.

Mom said I Not Quited in Obedience but Qualified in all things Lassie.

Mom said if I hadn't run off, I might have had a run-off. For a blue ribbon. But she wasn't sad. She was proud.

And Mom says tomorrow is another day.

Bark Bark Bark!




Sailor here.


Our blue jays are loud. They are noisy. They sit in the trees and bark at each other.


Mom says they're probably the twins that hatched under our umbrella. She says that Jib probably taught them to bark.


It couldn't have been Zoe.


Or me.








Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Happy Birthday, Jib!


Sailor here.

Last night Jib had steak for dinner. So did I. So did Zoe. And Mom did, too!

Mom said it was for Jib's birthday. He is five. I don't know how old that is in Mom years, but Mom says it's finally a Grown Up age.

I hope Jib grows up again next birthday. I love steak!




Monday, September 27, 2010

We Played Hot


Jib here.

Mom and I played in the hot. We played agility. Mom kept me cool by slapping ice chips on my feet. She kept me cool by rubbing ice on my ears. She forgot to slap ice on her feet and ears. So when we got home, Mom flaked out on me.

I wanted to play Frisbee. But no, Mom was too tired. And too hot.

And the next day, we went to a new place with a brown hill and burrs and other dogs and harnesses and long leashes and lots of cheese. I wore a new collar that goes around my chest and tummy. I got to find the cheese. I got to EAT the cheese! Mom had to stay behind me. For a change. I sniffed and munched and sniffed and pulled Mom up a hill.

This morning before the sun started waving at us, Mom did another track of cheese. I found them all. She was so happy! She said I GOT IT!

What's not to get?

I am NOT waving!


Sailor here.

It's panting time. I pant a lot. I drink water a lot. My feet are hot and my mouth is hot, too.

Mom says we have to wave to the heat, but I am too hot to wave. So I lie in the shade until Mom comes home and opens the door. Then I lie on the butt coolers Mom left out for me.
I love the butt coolers! There is one in every room. They blow cool air at me. They blow cool air at Jib.

Zoe doesn't come in for a butt cool, though. She'd rather be hot outside than cool inside. Silly Siberian.

Thursday, September 23, 2010

In Love


Jib here.

I am in love. I am in love with Georgia.

She looks like Tavish, but she smells like...like...like something very special.

Georgia smells like she wants me to do something very special with her. So I tried. And she made ugly face.
Every time.

I am confused.

But I am still in love.

Mom says she will come back to play with me. She will come back after she has had a bath. Then she will smell like play instead of special.

I hope not.

Wednesday, September 22, 2010

Not Fair!



Jib here.

Zoe dug up the sprinklers. Again.

She got all wet and muddy.

So why did I have the bath?


Answer me that, Mom!


Friday, September 17, 2010

I Had a Job!


Sailor here.

I had a job to do. An important job. Jib stayed home and I went to my job.

Our dog training club made new Canine Citizens out of puppies and dogs. Mom worked there and so did I.

I was the friendly dog in the crowd. I milled around. I trotted and heeled and schmoozed Mom's friends between millings.

I posed for pictures. I ignored puppies and dogs.
I was wonderful!

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Poor Zoe


Jib here.

Poor Zoe. She had a bath today.

And I didn't!

When Zoe has a bath, she comes out all clean and shiny.

Mom comes out all bedraggled and covered in wet fur.

The lawn comes out all snowy.

And Sailor and I run and hide.


(Mom helped me with the big words here.)

My Rear End




Sailor here.


Mom is helping my rear end.

It is old. Sometimes it doesn't do what I want.


So Mom is helping me use it. So I won't lose it.

She helps me go up the steps backwards. It is hard, but I am getting faster.


And I can jump on Mom without getting in trouble now.


I get cookies instead!

I LIKE this new game!

Sunday, August 22, 2010

I Had a Sleep-Over




Sailor here.


I horked up my whole dinner one morning. Mom said it smelled scary. Not fun.


I had a tummy ache. Not fun.


Mom took me to Dr. Karen. Dr. Karen poked my paw and my tummy and took pictures of my insides. Not fun.


I had to stay with Dr. Karen ALL DAY. Really not fun.


Then Mom took me to an all-night hospital. It had really shiny floors. Not fun.

Mom left me and I yipped for her to come back. Really not fun.


My tummy hurt a little. Not much fun.


I had a sleep-over. Not much fun either.


Mom brought my quilt so it smelled a little of home. Almost fun.


I made new friends. Fun.


They petted me and fed me. Fun.


They took me for walks to pee. Fun.


They fed me again. Really fun.


I slept and woke up and slept and woke up again. Almost fun.


And then Mom came back and took me home. Great fun!


Mom says I had gasto-gaso-ent (what was that, Mom?)


Oh. Could you please spell it?


Gastroenteritis.


My liver is not back to normal, either, but Dr. SleepOver told Mom not to worry too much. She told me to have another test. Just in case.


Mom is feeding me a blank diet. Fun.


What, Mom? Oh. A BLAND diet.


Mom mixed cooked chicken, rice, and yogurt. She said it was so yummy that she had some for HER dinner. She put salt on hers, though. Fun.


I am not supposed to tell anyone about Mom's dinner. In case they think Mom has become unhinged. Like our scream door. Will Mom swing slowly, slowly in the breeze? That would be fun to watch.


I get to eat three or four times a day! Really, really fun!


Jib is jealous.


MOST FUN!!



I May Be Famous

Sailor here.

I may be famous.


I won an award.


Mom is tickled pink.


What does THAT mean?

Saturday, August 21, 2010

Overheard Saturday Morning


Jib: "Hey, look! Mom made me a blanket!"

Sailor: "Me, too!"

Zoe: "It's called a quilt. That's what she does upstairs."

Jib: "She makes quilts?"

Zoe: "Yes, whaddya think was happening?"

Jib: "She watches me sleep. And sits in a chair and drops thread on the floor."

Sailor: "And she gets up and turns around to re-make her bed and sits down again."

Zoe: "Nope, she was so-ing and doing hot things with a iron."

Sailor: "Are there pictures on your quilt?"

Jib: "Yes! I have boats and sails and oceans."

Sailor: "I have boats and sails and seagulls."

Zoe: "She made quilts so you won't ruffle her rug."

Sailor: "Really? Now I can dig my quilt into a bed?"

Zoe: "Yup."

Jib: "No more digging in the rug?"

Zoe: "Nope."

Sailor: "Do YOU have a quilt?"

Zoe: "Yes, in my dogloo. Mom made it a long time ago."

(long pause)

Sailor: "Doesn't smell like boats and sails to me."

Jib: "Me, neither. Smells like hands and cloth."

Sailor: "That's even better."

(sound of digging)

Jib: "Hey, it works!"

Sailor: "Mine! Dig your own quilt!"




Saturday, August 14, 2010

In the Weeds


Jib here.


Mom says Zoe is in the weeds.


Sailor says this means she's in big trouble.


Mom had to call the plumber guys to fix the sprinkler.


Zoe said she dug it up because it sounded funny. She got wet and muddy. Then she took a nap.


I bet she has a bath today...


shudder

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

Prodigal son?


Jib here.

Mom says one of our jay babies came home.

He sits in the tree and yells. He yells at me. He yells at Sailor. He yells at Zoe.

He is almost grown up.


Just like me.


Mom says I am ALL grown up but am still like a puppy sometimes.

I hope the jay plays with me. I like puppies.


Monday, August 9, 2010

Walkies!

Sailor here.
My favorite thing is Mom.

Jib's favorite thing is Frisbees and chicken thighs and Mom.

Zoe's favorite thing is Walkies.

Mom takes us all on Walkies every day. We go early when it's still cool.
I hold Zoe's leash. Mom holds Jib's leash. And Mom also holds MY leash, but I'm not sure just how.

Mom carries lots of good stuff in her pockets. She has cheese bits, peanut butter cookies, kleenex for her drippy nose, pooper bags, and sometimes something that smells big and yummy. She says that's why she looks fat in her sweartshirt.

I hope she's not fat. Fat means string beans and pumpkin and rice cakes and not so much chicken and breakfast glop.

I am NOT fat, either!

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Zoe's Week



Sailor here.


Mom brushes Jib every day. She brushes me every day, too. She brushes Zoe every week.


Today was Zoe's week.


Mom sneezed and sneezed.


I wonder why.