Saturday, January 30, 2010
Where is HE??
She let my Mr. out of the house without ME. She let him DRIVE. ALONE! Now I'm sitting by the door worrying if he'll remember to come home. I'm just not sure SHE needs to be the one deciding things around here. If it was ME, he wouldn't go anywhere without me. He NEEDS me around to protect him. She said if the Dr. says he can drive, it's ok with her. Driving Mr. Daisy isn't a job a sane person wants anyway.
I gave him a stern talking to when he got back. Do Not Leave the House Without ME! Then I sniffied him all over and discovered he had been to brekky at Cracker Barrell with some of his buddies. He did bring us turkey sausage biscuits, so I guess I'll forgive him if he doesn't do it again.
Maybe. Later. Just not right now.
Ok, now I forgave him. This was the first day he could get down in the floor. We played tennis ball and stuffie toss and rope tug. Then SHE gave him a big ole pile of towels to fold She said if he was ok to drive and go off with his pals, he was ok enough to fold towels. I helped. And then we both were all tuckered out so we had a big ole nap.
Later he was feeling good enough to go visit some friends. I wasn't allowed to go because of this:
This is Jacob. He is usually a big ole cream puff of a guy, but about 8 months ago, they got this:
This is Issac. He's a baby. A big ole XRH baby. He's taller and longer than Jacob already. That crate is as tall as the bar in the photo. The bar isn't the counter height size, but the tall bar height. He's a BIG puppy, and like all puppies, he has been annoying the fur off of Jacob. So the bitey face games get serious.
Until this SHE steps in and tells em whats what:
This is Cavi. She's the smallest of the 3 Newfies. But she is the alpha dog of their pack. "You guys better straighten out in there. Don't make me get up from my nap and come in there."
Anyways, I couldn't go. I think my Mr. was afraid I'd get stepped on, or more likely, do some serious bitey face of my own.
Oh!
SHE says I hafta include a photo of Puffy since I nominated him for the Bad Sports group at M.M.
Here yah go!
He's snoozin as usual. If he doesn't get 23 hours of sleep, he's useless. Well, he's useless most of the time anyways, so he might as well be snoozin.
I'm packing for the MM show.
See you all soon!
Bonnie
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Bonnie n Puff...revisted
Bonnie, come here a few mintues please?
B: Me?
Yes, please! I need to talk to you about your 'interview with Puffy'.
B: Ohhhhh....that. Ummm....ok.
Remember this photo? Not long after you came to live here? And how you used to play with Puffy?
B: Yeah...we had some good times then.
You were a little harsh on old Puffers, weren't you?
B: I was just truthin! Honest!
Well, you know, there are usually at least 2 sides to every story. And you could have included some details that would have helped people understand him a little more too. Like, how old is Puffy?
B: Older'n dirt!
And just how old is that?
B: He'll by 17 in 2 weeks, and that reallllly is older'n dirt when yer a doggie.
Could you share a little with everyone about some of his daily challenges?
B: Do I hafta?
Yes...unless you'd like me to ...ummm....interview you? I'm sure there are a few things you'd...
B: OK OK I get the picture! Sheesssh. Well, to start with, he can't see or hear hardly at all. Sometimes he just sits in the middle of the floor and whimpers till you or the Mr. come and get him. And he limps a lot..and sometimes he has these funky spells...and sometimes his feetsies go out from under him.
How does he know to get up and eat in the morning?
B: Do I hafta tell that? Oh...kaaaaay. Well, I go and BARK really high and loud. That wakes him up. Then I get his leash and bring him into the kitchen for brekky.
When we go on walkies, how does he get around?
B: Well, I used to rush off in a hurry, but lately, I've been getting in front of him so he can smell me and I walk really slow so he won't fall down. He'll follow me anywhere.
Now, that's much better Bonnie! Can you tell everyone what you do when he's having one of his little spells?
B: People will think I'm a softy!
That's ok, you really are a sweetie you know.
B: Sigh.....I push him up against the wall with my 'oversized snooter' and hold him up till you come and rescue him so he won't fall down and go boom.
You want a cookie now? For being such a good girl and telling it more like it is?
B: Can I have 2, please?
Oh, one for you and one for Puffy?
B: Heck no! Both are for ME!
B: Me?
Yes, please! I need to talk to you about your 'interview with Puffy'.
B: Ohhhhh....that. Ummm....ok.
Remember this photo? Not long after you came to live here? And how you used to play with Puffy?
B: Yeah...we had some good times then.
You were a little harsh on old Puffers, weren't you?
B: I was just truthin! Honest!
Well, you know, there are usually at least 2 sides to every story. And you could have included some details that would have helped people understand him a little more too. Like, how old is Puffy?
B: Older'n dirt!
And just how old is that?
B: He'll by 17 in 2 weeks, and that reallllly is older'n dirt when yer a doggie.
Could you share a little with everyone about some of his daily challenges?
B: Do I hafta?
Yes...unless you'd like me to ...ummm....interview you? I'm sure there are a few things you'd...
B: OK OK I get the picture! Sheesssh. Well, to start with, he can't see or hear hardly at all. Sometimes he just sits in the middle of the floor and whimpers till you or the Mr. come and get him. And he limps a lot..and sometimes he has these funky spells...and sometimes his feetsies go out from under him.
How does he know to get up and eat in the morning?
B: Do I hafta tell that? Oh...kaaaaay. Well, I go and BARK really high and loud. That wakes him up. Then I get his leash and bring him into the kitchen for brekky.
When we go on walkies, how does he get around?
B: Well, I used to rush off in a hurry, but lately, I've been getting in front of him so he can smell me and I walk really slow so he won't fall down. He'll follow me anywhere.
Now, that's much better Bonnie! Can you tell everyone what you do when he's having one of his little spells?
B: People will think I'm a softy!
That's ok, you really are a sweetie you know.
B: Sigh.....I push him up against the wall with my 'oversized snooter' and hold him up till you come and rescue him so he won't fall down and go boom.
You want a cookie now? For being such a good girl and telling it more like it is?
B: Can I have 2, please?
Oh, one for you and one for Puffy?
B: Heck no! Both are for ME!
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Puffers the Ancient - Bad Sport Entry Interview
Ugh....she said I had to let Puffy the Ancient have some bloggie time, since I entered him into the MM Bad Sport dog group. Well, no one was supposed to know I did that! It was just my way of getting even for...well, never mind that.
So...instead of letting him defile my pretty pink laptoppy, I thought I'd borrow a page from Dory and interview his smelly ole self.
B: So, Puffy, lets start with a little bio about you.
P: Well, I belong to the idiot Marine, except when I moved here, he was an adorable 7 year old and I was a double fisted ball of cream colored fluff. When he grew up and stopped paying attention to me, I became Momma's little love bundle.
B: SNORT
P: It's true! She gave me everything I wanted and so did Dad. Pizza and beer for Dad, pizza and beer for me. Life was great!
B: Can you tell us about the original sin...I mean...the original BITE the hand that fed you?
P: I can assure you it was blown way out of proportion. She should have know better than to reach in under my hiding spot when I was mad at her. Served her right, actually.
B: And what was the outcome of this unfortunate event?
P: Don't make me say it. You know it bothers me.
B: Isn't the unfortunate event, as you put it, the real reason for your ...ummm...TUTORING?
P: safeplacesafeplacesafeplace ...lalalalallalalla....I can't hear you!
B: OK....moving right along...lets jump to the present time. Isn't it true that when I moved into this house, you used to terrorize me? And bite me? And run me off from my foodibles?
P: Well, some of that may be true, but you've got to remember you had these awfully sharp little razor teeth and you were forever hanging onto my ear or tail and it hurt! And they were spending a lot of time with you, and giving you treats for doing stupid things like SIT or STAY.
B: Actually, that was my Mr., not HER....no THEY about it, bud!
P: Hey! You don't have to be so picky about details. I thought you'd leave after a week or two, and when you didn't leave, I had to take matters in my own hands. You needed to GO....and not come back!
B: Let's talk a little about why I thought you'd be the perfect BAD SPORT. Isn't it true that you often go into your own crate, when the door is open, and start barking and growling and gnashing your 3 teeth?
P: I had more teeth, missy, until YOU knocked them out! Yeah, so what? It's my crate and I'll do what I want to do in it....including barking and snarling and biting anyone that sticks their hand in my crate...or any smart mouth scottie that sticks her over sized snooter in there too! SNARL!
B: Ack! Cover yer mouth when you snarl! You've got killer bad breath! Now, for the last question today, isn't it true that the peeps have to drug you to be able to give you a bath and groom you, and that the vet won't even let you in the office unless you are drugged and muzzled? And that my Mr.s primary care Doc had to report you as a BAD DOG to the authorities????
P: All of that is a grave misunderstanding! I only bite people when I am afraid, and it's easy to be afraid when you are almost blind and deaf. Water and grooming scare the bejeebers out of me...and the vet lady likes to torture me with sharp instruments. And Dad, well, that was a mistake...I meant to bite YOU!
There yah go folks...the original bad sport.....bad dog bad dog, whatcha gonna do when they come for you?
Bonnie, the innocent
So...instead of letting him defile my pretty pink laptoppy, I thought I'd borrow a page from Dory and interview his smelly ole self.
Puffers, come on in and sit down...over there....WAAAYY over there...Dude, you seriously need a bath.
Ok. I'll ask questions and you try to wrap your ancient brains around it and answer, K?B: So, Puffy, lets start with a little bio about you.
P: Well, I belong to the idiot Marine, except when I moved here, he was an adorable 7 year old and I was a double fisted ball of cream colored fluff. When he grew up and stopped paying attention to me, I became Momma's little love bundle.
B: SNORT
P: It's true! She gave me everything I wanted and so did Dad. Pizza and beer for Dad, pizza and beer for me. Life was great!
B: Can you tell us about the original sin...I mean...the original BITE the hand that fed you?
P: I can assure you it was blown way out of proportion. She should have know better than to reach in under my hiding spot when I was mad at her. Served her right, actually.
B: And what was the outcome of this unfortunate event?
P: Don't make me say it. You know it bothers me.
B: Isn't the unfortunate event, as you put it, the real reason for your ...ummm...TUTORING?
P: safeplacesafeplacesafeplace ...lalalalallalalla....I can't hear you!
B: OK....moving right along...lets jump to the present time. Isn't it true that when I moved into this house, you used to terrorize me? And bite me? And run me off from my foodibles?
P: Well, some of that may be true, but you've got to remember you had these awfully sharp little razor teeth and you were forever hanging onto my ear or tail and it hurt! And they were spending a lot of time with you, and giving you treats for doing stupid things like SIT or STAY.
B: Actually, that was my Mr., not HER....no THEY about it, bud!
P: Hey! You don't have to be so picky about details. I thought you'd leave after a week or two, and when you didn't leave, I had to take matters in my own hands. You needed to GO....and not come back!
B: Let's talk a little about why I thought you'd be the perfect BAD SPORT. Isn't it true that you often go into your own crate, when the door is open, and start barking and growling and gnashing your 3 teeth?
P: I had more teeth, missy, until YOU knocked them out! Yeah, so what? It's my crate and I'll do what I want to do in it....including barking and snarling and biting anyone that sticks their hand in my crate...or any smart mouth scottie that sticks her over sized snooter in there too! SNARL!
B: Ack! Cover yer mouth when you snarl! You've got killer bad breath! Now, for the last question today, isn't it true that the peeps have to drug you to be able to give you a bath and groom you, and that the vet won't even let you in the office unless you are drugged and muzzled? And that my Mr.s primary care Doc had to report you as a BAD DOG to the authorities????
P: All of that is a grave misunderstanding! I only bite people when I am afraid, and it's easy to be afraid when you are almost blind and deaf. Water and grooming scare the bejeebers out of me...and the vet lady likes to torture me with sharp instruments. And Dad, well, that was a mistake...I meant to bite YOU!
There yah go folks...the original bad sport.....bad dog bad dog, whatcha gonna do when they come for you?
Bonnie, the innocent
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Help me pick a photo for M.M.
SHE says she doesn't have time to do a photo shoot, it's raining and I need a haircut and pawdicure, so I can just pull an older photo off the hard drive and use that.....lazy ole cow! So many choices, and I've never entered before....so I'm not sure exactly which type of photo would best showcase my many terrier talents.
Should I use the Squirrelly Stuffie shot? After all, practice makes perfect! When you can't get outside to chase real ones, practice inside with stuffies to keep your neck-snap shake tuned up:
Or how about the Spa Mud Bath? That was a terrific terrier day. I don't think I've been back to that doggie park since. The Mr. was horrified that his precious little princess actualy enjoyed a good roll in the mud:
How about pretty RAWKSTAR Bonnie? I wore this on Halloween to go visit some shut-ins on our street. I love to make them smile! I'm not ALL about me you know, sometimes I like to help others:
There is the Flashy Jaws of Death picture....nothing says terrible terrier terror like the Flashy Jaws of Death.
Just ask Puffy....he's been acquainted with my toofers before:
Let's see.....what else says crazy cracker dog? How about Glow in the Dark Bonnie....woooooooooo....the beast lives!
Oh, here's another one that's fun...
Bondage Bonnie
I was saving this one for a calendar call, but maybe I
should use it for M.M. just in case I win?
And last, but not least, here's a nod to my heritage, Scotland the Brave.....I give you Tartan Bonnie:
So many choices.....so little time....vote for your fave and I'll post it to M. M.
Thanks so much for helping.
Bonnie, Swift Warrior Princess
Sunday, January 10, 2010
How cold...?
How cold is it? No way! Below freezing you said? Are you sure those meds aren't messing with yer brains?
But.....this is sunny Floriduh! I can see the sun shine! Well, lets throw another log on the fire then.....what? No Fireplace? Why would you buy a house in Floriduh with no fireplace? Oh, you thought keeping cool was more important? I hear that happens when you have hot flashes. I'll hafta ask Hamish about this Glow Ball Worming. Makes no sense to me if it's warming, how come it's colder? What? It's got nothing to do with me being BLONDE!!!
This is my New Years Eve pawty dress. Not that I got to go out on ANY dates. And there will not be any rude comments about the size of my derriere. So I gained a few pounds over the howlidays! And I've not had any walkies that really count, cuz I've been spending all my time perched at my Mr.'s feetsies. I refuse to let him out of my sight and I stay as close to him as I can.
There are those of you who have asked about my idiot Marine. He's the youngest of my human step-brothers. He splained that you are never an X-Marine, you are always a Marine. He's living at home now and going to college. He's used to staying up all night and snoozin all day since his classes are at night. Well, me n Puffers are used to being UP and about all day, so sometimes (not saying it was me) somedoggie pee'd on the carpet cuz he wasn't taking us out when we needed to go out. No long walkies....maybe, if we were lucky, just down to the stop sign and back. About 2/10ths of a mile round trip. I got a news flash for him....his new class schedule came last week...and a couple of days he will hafta be in class at 9am. I don't even know if he's aware there is a 9am!!! But I'm gonna snicker when he stumbles out the door, I might even try to trip him. Serves him right for stuffin me in that crate so long!
The Mr. came home right before New Years. He's had his ups n downs. There is a nurse lady comes by every day or so to pokey him with a sharp tooth thingy and make him bleed. SHE has to put me up when the nurse comes by cuz I wanna get tween the nurse and my Mr. That makes me have a terrier tantrum in the crate. VERY NOISY. AROOOOOO - squeeeeee squeeeeeee squeeeeeee AROOOOOOO!
Well, I've got lots of feet warming to do, since it's so dang cold. How cold? Pipe freezin cold! Two of the houses on the street have already had pipes burst. Our walls aren't insulated like houses up north. Me n the Mr. are watching lots of TV. Or rather, I watch, he sleeps. OK...I admit it, I do my share of snoozin too.
I hope every critter had a wonderful howliday season, with lots of crumb hooovering under the tables.
Stay warm and snuggle up to yer fave peep.
Bonnie
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