Am I Spoiled?

This is my dog door.  Elegant, isn't it?  I'd like to give a big shout out to the person who built it for me...I think his name is Eric...I've seen him on tv, but he's pretty good with a saw and a hammer, too.  At first I was a little afraid to go near it.  Isn't that silly?  I still catch myself scratching at the back door to go out.  Unless the gardener shows up.  Then I'm out that dog door like a bat out of hell, teeth snarling, saliva dripping.

The door is a little tight for me.  My sides rub.  Also, it was quite a drop on the other side, but now we have nice doggie steps to make it easier.  Dougal fits through it just fine.  I think they measured him instead of me when building it.  I actually think my person keeps my food portions down just so I will fit!

I think it could use a red carpet, don't you?

Sometimes, when I really don't feel like going through this thing, I just pee on the floor in front of it.  I don't know why they get so mad about that.

Hannah

Vanity

I'm thinking of getting a nose job.  Other dogs stare at it and I feel self conscious.  Do you think it's too big?  Also, my teats are a little small, and they are not symmetrical.  Maybe I'll get it all done at once.

Hannah

Jailed!

I was bad.  I spent a few hours in "solitary."  But it was worth it.

My person leaves her bagpipe case within easy reach, on a bench in the entry.  Man, what a temptation.  The smells that come out of that thing are tantalizing.  If only I could get the case open, a world of delights would await me.  There are pockets on the side, however, just above nose level.  Tempting.  I would like a little credit here, for being good MOST of the time, because I really love the piper and I don't want to upset her.  But on this particular day, the urge was too strong.  

In one of the pockets is a particularly delightful treat.  It says "REEDS" on it.  They are crunchy little savory morsels, perfect for chewing.  They do have a little copper tube in the middle, but not to worry, it goes down easy!  I managed to pull the whole case down, and luck put the reed pocket within easy reach.  There were several boxes in there, so I decided to go for the one that says "Band Reeds."  For some reason, that one was particularly pungent, with many different saliva smells.  I chewed open the box and spread my bounty all over the carpet.  I wanted to roll my body all over them and bask in the glory of my achievement.  I managed to give some of them a good chew, when my heart stopped.  Instant adrenaline!  The Door!  OMG she's home early!

I tried, I really did, to look like nothin' was goin' on.  But I think she noticed the reeds spread all over the floor.  "Hannnnaaaaaaahhhhhhh!  Oh My God!  What have you Done?"  Then her face contorted and I RAN for the dog door.  I don't know where I was thinking I would go after that.  She knows her way around this place pretty good.  Nowhere to hide.  Anyway, she got me while I was half way out.  I let out a yelp.  She picked me up, stomped over to the scene of the "crime," called me a bad dog (I hate it when she does that...), and encouraged me strongly to get in my crate.  Dang.  Is $500 a lot of money?

The next part was pretty funny.  She got on all fours with her you know what in the air, and started looking at the reeds, one by one, real close.  She found MOST of the ones I'd been chewing and crunched them up on the floor, like she was putting out a cigarette.  Angrily.  Then she left the house.  After putting her case up on the dining table.

Hours went by.  Finally she came home and let me out.  I could have been really mad, but I acted like I was happy to see her anyway.  It's what dogs do.

That's all for today.

Hannah

Communication

Here are some good ways to communicate with humans:

1) If you are hungry and they are near by, scoot your water dish or empty food dish around the floor.  I have a slate floor, and this makes a racket and attracts a lot of attention.  Wag your tail.

2) If you want to play ball, try nudging it towards people until it stops right at their feet, then stare at them for as long as it takes, wagging your tail all the while.

3) If you want to be petted, run over to someone and roll over on your back, exposing your belly, and wagging your tail wildly.  Try to smile if you can.  This is usually irresistible to humans.

I guess you could say, when in doubt, wag your tail.

Hannah

Food Issues

OK, so I like to eat.  A lot.  I've always been like that.  Maybe when I was a tiny puppy, I got pushed away from the nipple once too often, because now I eat like I haven't seen food for a week.  Dougal, on the other hand, can hardly be bothered.  He often comes and sniffs his breakfast with disdain, then walks away.  In the good old days, that was a bonanza for me.  That meant two breakfasts for Hannah.  Even if he did eat, I would finish my own food in 33 seconds flat, then circle him like a shark, or a vulture, waiting for him to walk away or for the person to LOOK away.  

Apparently the people found that annoying.  Now they chain me up like a prisoner to eat, while Dougal has free reign.  Sometimes they forget about me for a little while, and if Dougal has left some food in his bowl, it drives me CRAZY not to be able to reach it.  They never let me eat the leftovers.  They'd rather throw it in the trash than let me have it, and I just cannot relate to that mentality.  

Even worse is that they make me sit while they're getting the food ready, and think it's really funny to play "Any Word But OK," even when I am half dead of starvation.  Here I am, shaking with hunger and excitement, waiting for that special word, when instead of OK, they say "butterfinger!"  When I dash for my food, they say "NO!," make me sit back down, then laugh their heads off.  I'd like to BITE their heads off.  "Popcorn!"  "Peanutbutter!"  "Hooray!"  "OK!"  At last.  Grrrrrrrr.  The things you have to do when you're a dog.

That's all for today,

Hannah

Play Ball!

Here's a picture of me with my favorite (only) toy.  My ball.  It's a little big for me, but I love it anyway.  Apparently I am not allowed to have any toys that fit under the sofa.  That's too bad, because that wipes out one of the best games from my repertoire.  It's called "Reverse Fetch."  Here's how it works:  1) Get an object small enough to fit under a sofa or bed.  2) Play with the object for a while, then when no one is looking, nudge it under the sofa with your nose.  3) Bark excitedly for as long as it takes for a person to come get it out for you.  Stand back and enjoy watching them get into a variety of contorted positions while retrieving the object.  Sometimes they even have to go get the broom to get the object out.  4) Quickly try to snatch the object back as soon as they get it out, because sometimes they're a little mad and throw it right in the trash.

Nothing beats the ball, though.  I love having it flung across the house in the morning while waiting for my breakfast.  My person hooks her finger in it and flings it fast and far, usually bouncing it off a wall which makes it extra exciting.  Once in a while it goes directly into  the guest bathroom through a narrow opening, which I personally don't enjoy, but when that happens my person yell "Score!! 10 points!"  The ball is a great way to make new friends, too.  When new people come to the door, for some reason they don't seem to like me very much.  Perhaps they don't like a lot of barking and growling.  This is when I test them.  If they try to pet me anyway, I run and find my ball, and voila!  A new best friend.  

The ball isn't always great, though...once I almost DIED playing ball.  Really.  I was upstairs and wanted my person to throw the ball.  She seemed annoyed, but agreed to play.  She threw the ball down the stairs.  Dang.  Doesn't she know it's not easy for a dog of my length to go up and down the stairs?  I have to zig zag, and the ball is too big so I have to lift my head to get back upstairs...it's a real struggle.  As soon as I triumphantly returned with the ball, she grabbed it and threw it down again.  Ack.  I was a trooper, though, and went to get it again.  Three more times, three more trips down and up the stairs.  By now I'm thinking "she's being a little mean," and then "wow, my heart is beating awfully fast."  I tried to tell Dougal that I was possibly having a heart attack, but he wasn't interested.  I recovered, but now when she throws the ball down the stairs, I just give her a dirty look and go do something else.

That's all for now,

Hannah