Tonight's the Night!

Jib here.

Tonight's the night. It's dog school night!

Chicken! Cheese! Hot dogs!

Aunt Judy!

Dumbbells and jumps and heeling!

Stays...more stays...long, long boring stays.

But cheese! Chicken!! HOT DOGS!!!

I feel like a puppy again!

Rain. Again.

Sailor here.

It is raining. Again.

Mom is folding socks. Again.

I am bored. Jib is bored.

When Jib used to be bored, he used to get into trouble.

Now Jib is pretending to be a grown-up. And not get in trouble.

He is pretending to sleep.

I am a grown-up. I am pretending to sleep, too.

But I won't go to sleep all the way.

In case it stops raining.

In case Mom stops folding socks.

In case we get to go for a walk.

Or have cookies.

Cheese Day

Jib here.

Today was Cheese Day.

Mom and Aunt Judy took me to the park. I wore my Seek jacket. I Seeked. I found the cheese!

And later after my Seek jacket was not on me, Mom played the Cheese Game.

She calls it the Article Game, but it's really the Cheese Game.

I find the dumbbell with the cheese. I lick the cheese. I lick it all gone. Really all gone. And I lick some more just in case I missed any. Then I bring the dumbbell back to Mom and she give me MORE cheese.

She says I lick and lick and lick. And lick. She says it takes forever for me to lick off all the cheese. Even though it's just a dot of cheese. Smaller than my Zuke's. Smaller than the part of my toenail Mom just Dremeled off.

Mom says I am thorough. I lick off every last molecule. Whatever that is.

Then we play again. And again.

Today, Mom changed the rules. She didn't put a dot of cheese on Find Mine every time. But I HADN'T licked off every molecule. I still found the cheesey one. I found it in the back of all those other not-cheesey ones. I Found Mine. And I got more cheese!

Dumb. Dumb. Dumb. Bell

Jib here.

OK, I get the dumbbell game. Find the little metal dumbbell when Mom hides it. Look everywhere. Sniff everywhere. There it is! Bring it to Mom and get a cookie. I love this game.

And I get the Find Mine game when there are two dumbbells (Mom calls them articles) and one of them is Mom's and the other one doesn't smell like Mom.

But I don't get the Find It on the Floor game when Mom says there are three.

Is the game Find the One That Isn't Attached to the Floor?

Is the game Find the One That is Closest?

Is the game Find the One in the Same Place as the one I got a cookie for?

I think the game is Find the One That Isn't Stuck.

Or Find Them All.

But they won't all fit in my mouth.

I know.

I tried.

Mom says I have a big mouth.

But it isn't big enough.

No cheese!

Jib here.

Mom took me tracking today. She says I am having trouble on turns and made them easier for me.

So we tracked. We turned.

The seagulls flew off.

They flew off with my cheese!

MY CHEESE!

I was robbed.

Good Dog Again

Sailor here.

Jibby stole part of Zoe's breakfast today. He stole her dinner last night.

Bad Jibby.

Zoe ran off today and made Mom limp and bleed.

Bad Zoe.

I am the good dog.

Again.

Zoe's Gone. And Back.

Jib here.

Zoe dug open the fence. She pushed a board. She pulled a board. She chewed. She wiggled. She shoved. And then she escaped.

She told me not to tell.

I didn't. I didn't tell.

But Mom went to feed her and couldn't find her. Anywhere. So Mom went to find her.

Zoe said she went far away. She went through three holes in three fences and an open gate. And she didn't let the last people catch her. They saw Mom looking for her and called to Mom. They couldn't catch Zoe to read Mom's phone number on her tags. So Mom went to find her and heard the neighbors call.

Mom found her. And Mom finally caught her. After a chase. Mom dragged her back down the street to my house. Zoe was bouncing. Mom was limping and bleeding. She smelled not happy.

Zoe smelled not happy, too. She was hungry and thirsty and not happy to be caught.
But she was happy to find her supper when Mom brought her home. And put her in jail.

I wasn't happy Zoe was home.

I spent all the time it took Mom to find Zoe barking. I was barking at Zoe's veal necks and chicken thighs. They were in her dog box. They were just...out...of...reach. My reach. I dug. I barked. But I couldn't get a second supper.

Mom said she could hear me barking in frustration all the way down the street. Where she found Zoe.

Maybe Zoe will take me with her next time and I will find MY supper in jail, too. A second supper.

Just for me.

Good Dog

Sailor here.

I am the good dog.

Surf's Up!

Jib here.

I bagged a bag.

I bagged it from the counter. In the kitchen.

The bag was full of chicken.

MY chicken. For me.

Sailor wanted to share. Share MY chicken.

So I ate it. Fast.

I ate all the chicken.

I ate all the bag.

Then I got a new bag of chicken. I gave Sailor a package of necks.

Mom found me. She found Sailor. She told us to Drop It and Leave It. Sailor Dropped It and Left It. I spun left and dodged. Mom told me again. I Dropped It and Left It. MY chicken!

But that's not all.

Mom looked for the first bag. She looked high. She looked low. Sailor said that this happened with a turkey when he was young. She didn't find the bag. Or the turkey.

So she made me drink water that turned to foam. She made me do this two times.

Then Mom put a T-shirt on my ruff to keep it not foamy. She put a towel on the floor.

Then I felt sick. I drooled. I horked. I horked again.

I horked up foam and slime and two chicken thighs. I felt so sick I didn't even feel like eating the thighs again.

Mom took off my T-shirt and we went in the car to see Dr. Dane. He listened to my heart and poked my tummy and laid me down me on a table. He took pictures. He talked to Mom.

Then Mom left. I was feeling great until Dr. Dane poked me with a bee sting.

Then I felt sick again. Really, really sick. I horked and horked. And horked again. And horked some more. All my chicken thighs!

And I got drunk. And slept. And then Mom came and took me home.

She says she hopes the plastic bag will pass. So do I.

But guess what the worst thing was? I didn't get breakfast!

Wolfling

Sailor here.

We have a wolfling in our family. Mom says we will meet him when her son and his sweetheart are married in the spring.

Will he howl?

Will he nip at my ears?

Will he hang on my ruff?

Mom says his middle name is Wolfie, and all he'll do is sleep, eat, poop and maybe cry a bit.

I told her wolflings do those things.

But Mom promised he wouldn't bite or crawl on me.

Yet.

Honk!

Jib here.

Honk. Honk.

Honkhonkhonkhonkhonkhonk.

Honk.

Squirrel!!!

Jib here.

Mom took me tracking with Aunt Judy.

Aunt Judy said she laid a blind track. But I had my eyes open.

Wide open.

So wide open that I saw a squirrel with long feet. And really long ears.The squirrel ran away from me.

I wanted to chase it, but I had a job to do.

Mom helped remind me. She held a sock under my nose.

Oh, yeah. Seek. Find the hot dogs, find the glove.

I love the hot dogs.

I love Aunt Judy and Aunt Judy's footsteps.

I love tracking!

Boybee Bun

Sailor here.

Mom's daughter's bun in the oven turned out to be a boybee.

Everyone is excited and happy and thinking Blue.

I hope he doesn't chew up the lawn chairs and table legs like Jibby puppy.

I hope he comes when he is called. Not like Jibby puppy.

I hope he doesn't hang on my ruff or boop me with his nose. Like Jibby puppy.

Mom says not to worry. She says he won't be up off the ground for a long time.

I am not convinced.