Shoes Chews

Poppy tagged me to say some things about myself using the first letters of my middle name. My full name is D For Dog—Deefor for short. So that makes my middle name For.
F = Furry
O = Ornery
R = Rapid

or maybe:

F = Furry
O = Overly Affectionate
R = Rastafarian (when not brushed much.)

Can the same dog be Overly Affectionate and Ornery? Definitely. Depends on the size of the other creature and the size of my orneriness at the moment. That’s ornery in the uncooperative and irritable sense. I’ll stick with:

F = Furry (no question about that)
O = Overly Ornery and Affectionate
R = Rambunctious

And I’ll tag super jumping Pacco to tell us about her middle name.

At home there was a missing shoes mystery. My owner mom got a new pair of shoes. After deciding not to wear them, she put them somewhere. Then they were gone. She wasn't sure if she hid them (from Arrow who loves the smell of her feet) or if Arrow hid them.

While searching for them in the closet (Who would put them there?), she found an old pair of shoes. Her beloved clogs. And some slippers. They brought back memories. Memories of winter. And memories of me. The bad me. The rambunctious me. She remembered all the chewing I have done. The woodworks on the ski place that they covered in duct tape. (How did I know they were coming back?) The bottom of the couch. (Why put chewy stuff there if it isn’t for me?) And yummy shoes and slippers.

The mystery is solved. She hid them in the hamper. Arrow hasn’t jumped in there yet...

Old Doggie New Tricks

There is a trick I can do with my head. My head looks very big and smart but it's all hair. Just enough room for my floppy ears and a few brain cells. I can point my nose up and slip out of my collar and leash any time. I save this trick for special occasions. Like when a good smelling dog is walking by or some yummy thing is on the sidewalk.

At first my owner mom kept making the collar tighter and tighter. Very pinchy, but my neck is still bigger than my head! Tonight I slipped out to sneak up on Arrow and bite his butt. Surprise attack. He has giant rabbit ears so his collar will never come off.

Doggie school is getting harder, but more delicious. Lots of new words to learn. I forgot them all. And now I don’t get food unless I sit still! My owners tell me to SIT and then a dish of food comes down toward my nose and I can’t go eat it. They pick it up if I move!! Why are they treating me like a criminal for wanting my own breakfast?

They had a new treat at school. A stick dipped in peanut butter. All I had to do was walk next to it and I got to lick it. I hope they bring it on all my walkies. My bearded owner says I am the best in the class.

Home Cookin'

Food is very important to a dog—to me anyway. I am completely dependent on my owners and scavenging on the streets. Is that fair? My owners are always eating. They can open the magic box whenever they want. They can call and have other humans bring yummy smelly food to them! That sounds good to me. I’d like a nice beef bone with some meat on it and a side of cheese.

But my meals have been improving. I owe it all to Arrow. Somehow stinky salmon and buffalo dry food came out of him too much, if you know what I mean. (It is very hard to talk about Arrow lately without being gross.) Now we are getting gourmet meals. Brown rice with hamburger. Or with chicken! I love chicken. And a touch of smelly dry food for the bouquet.

Many times, I have drooled over the computer seeing the good dinners on other doggie blogs, but it is hard to believe my owner mom is cooking for me. There isn’t a lot of cooking around here. Now she keeps my food in the magic box and serves it to me nice and chilled. Perfect for a summer day.

A Typical Walkie

Went to Yappy Hour tonight—evenings at Cheesman Park when many dogs and their owners meet to run loose and socialize, with one eye peeled for the dog officer. No pictures of Yappy Hour. To protect the guilty.

We start our walk by going down the alley. The scenic route. Past all the dumpsters and smelly stuff. Sometimes chicken bones! I get pulled around by the leash pretty hard in the alley.

Arrow eats the peanuts in one spot where someone feeds the squirrels.

I have my favorite rock. Checking the pee mail.



The Park is in sight.



Playing around in the park for a while and then home through the alley.

Today we scared a cat.

Thoughts on Arrow

SOME GOOD THINGS ABOUT ARROW:

He is fun to play with and chew on
Now I get a treat for pooping outside (to be fair 'cause Arrow gets one)
We take a very early morning walk (more leftovers on the streets)
He makes such a mess I NEVER get blamed for anything

I AM THE ANTI-ARROW:

Arrow pees on the rug (sometimes)
I never do

Arrow barks
I (almost) never do

Arrow likes getting brushed
I hate it

Arrow loves to swim
I’d rather wade

I NEVER get car sick (‘nuff said)

For a small dog an amazing amount of stuff comes out of Arrow. Disgusting stuff. Especially when he gets car sick. He has been fine when we play music for him. Until today. Maybe he doesn’t like reggae. I think he did better with rock.

At least today he had the sense to face the back seat. My owner mom didn’t notice the mess until we were almost at the dog park. She held his mouth closed and looked for paper towels till we got to the parking lot. Her driving is very scary when Arrow starts to get sick.

Secret Identity

Back to doggie school this week. I am getting better at sitting still. It is starting to really pay off in yemmy treats. I ate about a hundred at school. Then I heard the teacher saying something about cutting the tiny treats in half! They'd be invisible!

Practicing Sitting

The next day at Cheesman Park I was discovered. I went for a rare walk around the park without Arrow (who was driving my owner mom crazy because he likes to play on leashes now—a very tangled mess). This man pulled over in a big car. He asked what kind of dog I was. We told him I was a mutt from the rescue C.A.R.E. (If you look under Success Stories you will see me a.k.a. Tony in 2006 and Arrow in 2007!)

The man came over and measured my nose and my head and stretched out my tail and declared that I was not a mutt (I always liked being a mystery mutt), but a Havanese. He breeds them and shows them. He told stories about little Havanese puppies coming from Spain to Cuba. He thought I had some Euro- pee-on ancestors because of my shape. He liked my tail and my nose and declared me a Chocolate Havanese (sounds delicious).

Then he played this Price is Right game making my owner mom guess how much it would have cost to buy me. Higher. Higher. Higher. I left home a worthless mutt and returned from the park a Chocolate Havanese.

The Big Dog Candy Mountain

I was dreaming of the perfect dog park. A place with nice grass to roll in. Lots of dogs everywhere. No horses. No cars. Shady grass to rest in. Lots of water. Shallow places to sit around in and splash through, deeper spots for swimming. Then a big field to play chase and ball in. Lots of water and treats. Reminds me of a song I’ve heard.

In the big Dog Candy Mountain they never clip your nails
And yummy treats and water are set out in big pails
You never have to “sit” or “stay” or do anything at all
You can growl and run and have lots of fun
Where the dogs are free to chew and pee
In the big Dog Candy Mountain

In the big Dog Candy Mountain the rocks are made of bones
The trees are made of rawhide and the bushes are ice cream cones
The humans don’t have leashes and they love to play all day
There are shady trees and a nice cool breeze
You can come and go and you never hear “NO!”
In the big Dog Candy Mountain.

What's your dream dog park?

Lazy Sunday

I went back to the dog park again—the one with nice water and mean horses. At the muddy pond there was a dog like Joey, a Boston Terrier, but a little browner. Liberty was his name. He was a great swimmer. Chasing the green ball and swimming back with it. Arrow was so impressed he had to smell his bum. My owner mom told Liberty’s mom to look up Joe Stains on Google.

Arrow didn’t disappear as much today. I didn’t torture him as much either which might have something to do with it.

He was leaping in and out of the creek like a maniac when someone yelled, “Cody!” Arrow turned around. He usually acts like he has no name. My owners are always screaming Arrow. Everyone at the dog park knows his name. (Except Arrow.) They experimented. He didn’t come at all when they called him Arrow, but he came half way around the couch when they called him Cody. Then he came to them when they called Arrow. Not very scientific and now he’s really confused. Maybe he thinks we’re both named Deefor.

They got Arrow a cage. In the morning he likes to pee as soon as he gets out of bed. Now he waits in the cage instead of on the rug that is getting a very doggy smell. And they got us lots of chews.

Happy Trails

Last week we almost got thrown out of the dog park! It’s getting real hard to run around loose in this town. I know it’s illegal in our favorite Cheesman Park, but in the dog park?!! I thought that’s what it was for. Running. Swimming. Barking. Chasing.

My best pal Avalanche went with Arrow and me. We almost didn’t take Arrow because he likes to disappear and he gets car sick—which has been better since we play music for him. I didn’t mind because Avie and I could gang up on him. Three tails are a crowd.

Then some folks on horses went by. I am sure glad people never got it into their heads to ride dogs. I don’t know how the poor horses put up with it. They’re hanging around eating stuff and then someone climbs on top of them and... don’t get me started. Anyway, these horses pass right where we are running. Naturally Arrow, not aware that he isn’t the size of a horse, wants them to play. He barks and chases them and won’t stop. This looked like fun so Avie and me joined him.

The horse guy was yelling and so were our owners. Avie’s mom got us both on leashes and my owner mom went running after the horses and Arrow. She was screaming at them to stop. They didn’t. Finally, she caught Arrow and tied him up. With the leash.

Arrow stayed on the leash just in case. A little later, a park ranger told us that the horses had complained! I thought this was a Dog Park nor a Horse Park! The ranger said in Colorado horses can go anywhere they feel like! And they don’t have to pick up their giant poop! (Which is quite tasty.) If a dog bothers the horses, THE DOG CAN BE SHOT! Horses seem nice enough to me. Guess it's their outlaw riders we dogs have to watch out for.

The Mark of Arrow

Arrow has come out of his shell. A month ago, when he first came to our house, he was shy. Quiet. He brought out the beast in me. I hid all the bones and chews. I attacked him when he took stuff. He moped around. I was king.

Then he started playing. Chewing up papers. Wrestling a little. Fighting back when I grabbed him by the ear. When we were alone he ran up and down the stairs carrying things and chewing them.

Now he wants to play all the time. If I ignore him and try to take a nap, he barks. Constantly. Loud.

He has left his mark everywhere. Shredded papers and plastic bags. He likes wood. He chewed the blinds. They tasted pretty good. The chair. He likes knitting stuff. I’ve gnawed on a few needles, bamboo or plastic—not the metal ones. But Arrow likes to take the yarn and run around with it. I think he is part spider.











He gets this crazed look on his face and there is no stopping him.

Dog School

School was fun. Went with the bearded one (AKA Good Cop) Monday. Better food than in kids’ school. The class was for “Petite Pooches.” Petite yappers was more like it. Maybe they had never seen another dog before. I was at the top end of the 15 pound limit. I didn’t say a word. Not even when this curly little thing growled at me.

The Dumb Friends are not dumb. They are very nice people who find homes for dogs and cats and other animals. I saw someone taking home a new kitty who smiled at me. They also sell treats and have a pretty nice school. Maybe it’s named for the dummies in my class. Dumb name but good place.

The whole class was treats, treats, treats, with clicks. Those clickin’ chicken things. Small but tasty. First it was treats to get me look when the bearded one said my name. Duh. Then sitting and not moving till they say you can. Very difficult. And the slower I learn, the more clickin’ and chicken.

p.s. My shaggy face is on Animal Internet!

School

I went to school with my owner mom Saturday. Not a doggie school, a school with kids. The kids were very good at pets and belly rubs. I was having a very exciting time when my mom’s boss came in. She was not happy. The teacher shouldn’t bring a dog. Allergies and shedding, she said. (I don’t shed)

Mostly I sat around. Didn’t learn much. Tonight: doggie school. I think I’ll sleep all day so I’ll be ready. Hope they allow humans.

Mystery Mix

I’m one of those mutts that could be anything. Walking around Denver, humans accuse me of being part Lhasa Apso, part Poodle, part whatever. Everyone projects their own stereotypes on me. They think my nose is like a Cocker Spaniel or my fur is like a Silky. Why do they have to put a label on me?

One a man insisted I must be Havanese like his doggie at home. My humans read all about them. Yes, I do like to walk around on my hind legs (when I smell food on the table), I am cute and friendly (of course). They decided that I must have run away from the circus, where a lot of Havanese dogs work. These folks really have an over-active imagination.

Part terrier because I like to jump straight up in the air and chase squirrels? Part cat because I like to pounce on my friends? Part rabbit because I sometimes sit with my back legs all the way forward? Part elephant because I like peanuts?

I’m just me. Even if I was one of those special kinds of dogs, would that make me just like every other Westies or Doxies? I don’t think so. I am what I am. We dogs are all individuals. Just because you once met a Lab who gave you a hard time, you shouldn't hate them ALL. If one Shih-Tzu gets in trouble with the law, does that make them ALL criminals?

You can’t judge a dog by its cover. . . except for those giant furry dogs who really have it in for me. They act sweet, growl under their breath, and then when I growl back, they just prance away innocently. Don’t ever trust them. Think about it. Would you want your sister to mate with one?

Six Wags

Wet and Cool

Just before I took my illegal morning run on the lush grass of Cheesman Park, Alexander’s mom warned us. We were surrounded! There were dog police on bikes sneaking up on our friends and busting them. Pricey tickets for owners who are not on leashes. It’s not easy getting exercise in this neighborhood. I think there are worse crimes in the park. Why don’t they bust all those people who throw their delicious leftovers in the trash cans instead of letting me and my pals recycle them? I thought Denver was supposed to be Green!

WARNING: GROSS INFO ABOUT ARROW
So we went to the dog park. Arrow, the intruder, has a problem. I haven’t mentioned it before because I hoped it would go away. He gets carsick. Now our car has never been a work of art—but it’s getting really disgusting. First my owner mom tried towels in the back seat. No good. Arrow barfed in the front seat. Next she put a sheet in the back. No good. He manages to miss it. Today she put stuff on the front seat, but sneaky little Arrow managed to puke on the shifter. Three times!

Later she changed all the talking and news on the radio to music, and Arrow was fine all the way home. He likes music. All that shouting and bad news just makes him sick.
END OF WARNING

Arrow Impersonating a Rabbit

We had lots of fun at the doggie park. It was a million degrees in the sun so we stayed wet. Swimming. Running. Playing with frogs and dogs. Arrow likes to disappear sometimes (hunting snakes?). My owner mom brought treats to bribe us. I stayed close to her pocket, but Arrow just took the treat and ran away. He’s still a wild thing.

Friends

Being Bad with Arrow

Arrow is annoying at times. He can be whiny. Scratchy. Sloppy. He splashes water all over the floor. He has weird habits. He tries to follow people into the bathroom. He chews paper into confetti. But he is a sneaky little devil and when he plays he really plays.

Arrow's Who Me? Look

Destruction by dogs is at a fascinating new level around here. Arrow has a bit of a shoe fetish. He especially likes sandals because they smell better. He rips out the linings and chews them into little pieces. He eats certain leathers. Especially colored sandals. His favorite flavor is blue. Arrow has shown me that shoes have wonderful little parts that can come off and be chewed. Plastic things. Velcro things. It’s amazing what humans put on their feet. I used to gnaw on shoe laces for a while, but that got old fast. Not much flavor and kind of stringy.

Today we chased each other and he ran across a little table next to the bed. We found a chew attached to a watch! And some books. Being fond of paper, and slightly intellectual in an offbeat way, Arrow prefers library books to the newspapers or magazines that are usually laying around. But, in a pinch, he’ll chew up any books. Pages. Bindings. It’s all good. Also some little things that he chewed up so much, I don’t even know what they were. Possibly earrings or parts of bigger things?

He likes plastic. He finds it everywhere. Maybe he has a petroleum deficit. This morning he was playing with big pieces of dryer lint that he got out of the garbage. That and dental floss.

School

Almost went to doggie school last night. But we made a mistake and it starts next week. I’ve never been to school so I was a little worried. There are some intelligent dogs out there. My owner mom kept telling me to be nice. I’m always nice.

The place had lots of animals. I saw some little kitties and some giant puppies. The kitties were cute. I could see playing with one. Just a little bigger than my dirty ducky. We got kind of lost. Then we found a class with only humans and no dogs. But we left.

The place was named Dumb Friends. I don’t think I need any more dumb friends, I’ve got Arrow, and enough smart friends. But my owner mom brought the clicker and the yummy chicken snacks so school can’t be too bad if it has food

Poop Dance

My owners are funny about poop. Don’t like it in the house, but they pick it up, put it in little bags, and carry it around outside. And they always stop walking when I poop. I do this little poop dance to find exactly the right place. I circle a few times, then twirl around.

When there is a cookie or some chicken on the sidewalk, you’d think they want to decapitate me with the leash. It isn’t pretty. I’ll be sniffing along and, as soon as I stop for some sidewalk delicacy, they tug on my leash and start using the mean No voice.

But I found something out by accident. Yesterday, when I was doing the poop dance, I smelled a piece of taco. I twirled around a bit, then ate it. No pulling, no yelling on their part. I’m not sure they noticed. Just figured I needed to find a better spot, I guess. Now, I can stop that leash wherever I find a snack, as long as I do a little poop dance first.

The Desert

Arrow takes off when he is loose so we went to the fenced in desert dog park. (He’s not too bad in our favorite Cherry Creek dog park, but he can’t go in the water yet because of his peepee surgery.) The desert park is almost all sand. It has a few trees and shady places but most of it is hot and sunny.

Arrow ran around like a nut and was very fond of a spaniel named Einstein. He made a lot of friends. I mostly tried to stay in the shade. Played tag and then rested. It’s too hot for this.

Cons & Pros

Pros and Cons

Life is funny. I thought Arrow was a new chew toy for me. But now he chews my toys and I get in trouble when I pull him around by the ear.

CONS
He runs away sometimes
He’s cute (cuter than me?)
He eats a lot
I have to wait for him when we walk together
He gets a lot of pets
Tangled leashes
I don’t like sharing



PROS
He runs away sometimes
Sometimes he likes to play
He’s a little scared of me
He poops on the rug if he doesn’t go out a lot (so I go out a lot)
Nice stinky smell (even after a bath—the skunk dog)
More treats and chewy stuff in the house (if he can find any—HA!)

My advice: Enjoy every minute as the only dog. Maybe you’ll find your soul mate, or just some animal that gets in your way.