Secretary of Treats

We had a yummy Thanksgiving. Me and Arrow got our own plate with all the stuff on it. And we helped finish off the leftovers.

I was upset by something Obama said. He was on TV talking about what kind of doggie he'll get. Barbara Walters, the TV interviewer has a Havanese doggie named Cha Cha Cha—Cha Cha for short. A few people told me I look like one of those doggies.

I don’t care if I’m a Havanese or a look-alike mystery mix, but when Barbara suggested they get a Havanese, Obama didn't like the idea. He said he didn’t want a “girly dog”! who “sits in your lap”! And yaps!

I’m OK with the lap thing. I bet if I sat in Obama’s lap he wouldn’t mind. (Also I don’t bark much and I never Yap. He’s got me confused with Arrow.)

No offense to Lorenza and Asta and Abby and all the wonderful girlie doggies I know. I love girlie doggies. But I’m not one. I may look furry but I’m no girlie doggie! I put up some very macho pictures of me to prove it. Just ask Arrow if I’m a girlie doggie.

I found a picture of Cha Cha and a strange resemblance. We look different. But we’re both very intelligent.

Amazing.

I wonder if Obama has a place in his cabinet for a smart doggie? I love cabinets. I could be Secretary of Treats.

Happy Thanksgiving!

There’s a giant turkey in our fridge. Arrow saw it first. It's so big some of it must be for us.

I’m discreet. That means I don’t go on the table or in the fridge when anyone’s looking.

There’s more stuff too. I’m Thankful for my family and yummy turkey. I’m even thankful for Arrow.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Good Dogs Bad Dogs

Another weekend without Arrow. Very relaxing. And Swiss cheesy if you know what I mean. (My bearded owner likes to break the don’t put doggies on your lap at the table and feed them rule!)

I was so good. Didn’t go into the garbage. Even if it smelled like chicken. Walked up and down the scary stairs by myself. (Being carried is scarier.)

Meanwhile Arrow was a good boy in Denver with Justin. Arrow played with Justin and walked him and let him sleep in the bed. (Arrow keeps his favorite bones in bed. He is not good about sharing.)

We both slept a lot. Then I came home. Fighting over bones. Toys. Chews.

Wrestling. Making the humans crazy. Are we better separate? Or together?

Socializing

Some doggies wondered what the big smelly thing I ate was. Sorry. I don’t know. It was lumpy and pretty flat. And grayish brown. And smelled and tasted good. My mom worried that it was dried wild animal poop—a mountain delicacy like the treats deer leave. Maybe it was some dried food. Like an old hamburger turned to jerky. Maybe a little of both. I’m getting hungry just writing about it.

Another trip to the doggie park.

I get to look around.

Arrow travels in the cage cause he might get carsick. He refused to look at the camera. (He's embarrassed.)

I have been real sociable at the doggie park. I only growl a little bit sometimes. To make sure the doggies don’t pick on me.

Mostly I play with them. It was getting dark and I'm blurry— but what an action shot!

And we do a lot of smelling.

This is a park where my humans go to play.

I don't ski or ride. I stay home and chill.

Arrow's Magazine Reviws

I have been checking out some of the magazines around here. I strongly recommend Bark for the doggie pictures and the tasty cards that fall out of it. These cards make a wonderful mess and can be eaten if you chew them enough. I suggest washing them down with some chilled water.

The New Yorker, on the other paw, has more substance. Hardly any pictures of doggies or even humans. But the pages are very tasty. They are a little slippery and shred nicely. If you are extremely hungry, the cover makes a good snack. But for making confetti to decorate the carpet—it’s my favorite.

We sometimes have newspapers lying around too. They are very shredible in a pinch. But for a truly satisfying experience, I recommend magazines!

I Don't Like it

I’m afraid to go up and down the stairs. It’s embarrassing. I have to be carried up and down. I don’t like being carried. What if they drop me? Why didn’t my humans get a normal place?

We moved to the mountains for the weekends. Closer to snow-riding. My humans obsession. That and eating.

To make up for the stairs, my humans gave me a treat. I think it's a stuffed hoof.

I hid it. Arrow stayed in Denver with Justin. I don’t think my humans mentioned they had two doggies. They’ll just sneak him in later and hope he doesn’t bark.

Lots of deer were on the lawn when we left.

Arrow ate my treat when we got home. (I didn’t really like it.) Besides, I’m full from eating a big smelly thing on my walkie.

First Dog

New President-elect Obama is talking a lot about getting a puppy. I wagged my tail for that one.

He might adopt a doggie! What a great president! Some puppy could go from being homeless and lonely to being the First Doggie!

Obama said he wants a doggie his daughter won’t be allergic to. Maybe one who doesn’t shed. Like me and Arrow.

It's my patriotic duty to warn the Obama family about doggies like Arrow. (Not you, Rusty.) We don't need a terriorist in the White House. He might stain the first rugs. Or run out on Pennsylvania Avenue.

Poor Barney. President Bushie’s doggie must be jealous. He has to go soon. Barney bit a reporter. I can understand. He must feel like a pit-bull without lipstick. A lame duckie doggie.

Weekend Update-- Finally!

Finally!! I’m back on my bloggie! Politics has taken over my house. (And stupid jobs) I can’t wait for this election to be over!!! Nuff said.


I am doing much better at the doggie park. Finally my mom brought the camera to prove it.

Sometimes I give a little tiny growl—but I get along with all the doggies now.

Sometimes I chase a doggie a little—but then I let them make friends with my bum.

Yesterday we played with Rusty a lot. He and Arrow are perverts.

And I got a new hoodie for winter.

I have to go visit all my doggie friends now—I missed you all.