Doesn't every Warrior Princess sleep on an embroidered pillow?

At my house, the swift warrior princess sleeps anywhere she wants!  And lately, that's been some pretty odd places.  When I get out of that darn cone of shame, I try to slip away and  sleep where no one can find me.

Behind the sofa worked for a day or two.   In the closet was good, till I got confused and ...ummm...pee'd on the quilt she had stacked in there.   And a couple of evening gowns.  And a shoe.  And this reallllly fugly purse that just needed to go.  Basically, anything of HERS, since she is the one strapping me in that THING.

Last night I wouldn't sleep in the big bed, even though she left off the cone thingy.   I first tried the bench at the foot of the bed.  Then I went into my crate and re-arranged everything and humphed at her and turned my back on the world.   When they finally got to sleep, I moved under the bed and found me a nice place up where SHE hides the good whiskey from the Idiot Marine and his buddies.  She doesn't care if they drink the cheap stuff,  but says there is just something wrong with mixing Diet Coke and premium whiskey.   Everything was going just fine until early this morning when I decided to clean the bottles where dribbles had run down.  Apparently Ms. Light Sleeper heard the bottles clinking around and got suspicious.   It took her a whole handful of cookies to coax me out from under the bed.

Now, in this photo, what you can't see is the coffee table.  It is metal and glass topped, with bands running around it on all sides.  It makes the perfect escape hatch.  If she comes near me with that THING, I can dart under the table and she can't get me.  It's big enough I can dart from side to side and it's heavy enuff she can't pick it up easily.  I don't normally sleep on the floor. That's where Puffy the ancient sleeps and I am sooooo above all that.  I prefer the sofa where I can jump on him if I need to. But she's pretty quick for a woman of that age, and can usually catch me up there.  

So for now, the swift warrior princess is keeping her options open and has a clear escape plan in place. There's just so much low calorie kibble and humiliating cones a terrier can stand before strange things start happening.   KWIM?

Bonnie the not so wee Scottie 

The Dreaded Cone of Humiliation

HELP!

I've been attacked by the dreaded cone of humiliation.

Get me out!

Send the biggest bestest chewers and chew me out.

Puuuulllllleeeesssseeeeee?

I'm so saaaad. Please help me. 
Not only do I have this awful thingy strapped around my neck, but I've got a hurt toe too.
My nail bed is all swollen and it hurts and I NEEEEED to lick it. 
Waaaahhhh!!!!

Not only that, but it smooshes my ears and my pretty beardie.

It's making my lovely Scottie profile look...well..

rather unflattering. 

Please help me!

Bonnie

Walking Mr. Daisy!

I've got a new job these days!  I'm the Mr.'s  personal coach!  I get him up and out twice a day.  Well, usually twice a day unless it's raining.  I don't DO rain.   Can't stand it in my ears.  We suit up in our exercise gear and head out to pound some pavement.

                                        

We start out slow and work up to a nice brisk walk.  

Look, someone hasn't picked up their paper yet.

They obviously don't have a superb Scottie to bring it to them.

This is MY street.  I own it!  I mark it regularly.

Well, me AND Puffy.

He says it was his street first.

Pftttt!

It's MINE!

We walk about 1.5 miles now.   In the beginning we did like a block and it was slow going.  But we're both getting better. I had to toughen up my feetsies as I'd been doing so much couch sitting taking care of the Mr.

     I picked up a few sandspurs along the way at first.  But we are both  getting more fit. 

We take apporpriate rest breaks.

Especially when we stop to chat with neighbors.

OK, that's enuff resting. 

Time to move out!

This way!

No more yakkin' it up with the neighbors.

SQUIRREL ALERT!!!!

Squirrel at 10 o'clock!

Lemme at him!

I can take him!

It's a good thing I had on my sports bra or else I would have taken the Mr. out when I bolted.

As it was, I did an arse over ears flip when I tried to jump the vermin!  Splat out flat on my back in the middle of the street!  It was sooooo embarassing.  

Now we are heading for home. 

We'll rest up and head back out later.

Walking Mr. Daisy!

For Hamish

O Flower of Scotland,

When will we see

Your like again,

That fought and died for,

Your wee bit Hill and Glen,

And stood against him,

Proud Edward's Army,

And sent him homeward,

Tae think again.

You will live on forever in our hearts and minds.....all our love,
Bonnie  and the support staff

Puffy's Barkday! Happy 17 old man!

HAPPY BARKDAY PUFFY!!

She's going to tell this story as I wasn't even a twinkle in my great great grandmothers eye yet.

It's hard to belive Puffy has made it to 17 years old.  I attribute it to bottled water and lots of exercise and love.     I thought I'd tell you the story of how Puffy came to live with us.

The youngest, referred here normally as the Idiot Marine, was in the 2nd grade at the time.  We had no idea he wanted a dog.   For his birthday or anytime.   His sister had a wonderful German Shepard at the time and he loved that dog, but he never said he wanted a dog.  One day we got a note from his teacher asking us to call her at home.  We imagined the worst of course...he's having trouble at school.   She wanted to relay what had happened in Chapel at school that morning.  The students could submit prayer requests to be shared during Chapel.  They normally have 2 or 3, like someones Grandmother was in the hospital or Dad was on a long trip, the kinds of things small children worry about.   He had taken the time to write out a request asking God to please let him have a dog for his birthday.   She thought we ought to know as this was so out of line with his character of not attracting attention to himself and that we needed to be prepared in case a dog wasn't in his future.  

We were petless at the time, and had not planned to add any animals to our home, of any kind, especially a dog.   Maybe a hamster if pushed.   The Mr. and I talked about it and decided if we got a dog, it had to be small so we could keep it in the house and one that played well with children as we had 2 boys left at home. We wouldn't purchse a pet from a pet store and would maybe ask around to see if anyone had any puppies they raised in their homes.  Puppies that have been hand raised are usually more stable.   And if nothing fell out of the sky,  we'd just not deal with a dog at his time.   We weren't actively looking either.  

Well, one of the Mr.'s friends knew someone that had 2 cocker-poo puppies for sale.  Hand raised in the home, not from a puppy mill.  We thought about and said that would work out as I had a cocker poo as a child and she was a wonderful playmate.  He went over to check out the 2 cocker-poos and they had another dog there,  a 3.5 months old Malti-Poo  that belonged to their adult daughter who was over visiting. This pup just fell all over the Mr. and the other 2 had  nothing to do with him.   He talked the lady into selling him this Malti-Poo puppy.   The daughter was ok with it,  said she'd rather have one of the cocker-poos as they were not as playful as the Malti-Poo who was wearing her out.  

He brought him over to me at work so I could see him. He was double fisted handful of cream colored fluf. You couldn't tell which end was which unless you could see his pink tongue.  We took him home and put him in the garage.  Then we picked up the kid from school and told him his birthday present was in the garage. When he first say the dog,  he goes:  'What's THAT? A CAT?  You got me a CAT?'

It took a while to convince him it was a dog.   I don't think he knew anyone that had a small dog, much less a fluffy one that was the size of a kitten.   Sometime later,  he told us about asking God for a dog for his birthday but thought God made a mistake, as he wanted a German Shepard!  He asked me if this dog would grown up to be a German Shepard.   My response was that sometimes God gives you what you need and can handle at the time, not what you think you want.  

He named the dog Wolverine.   He would fuss if anyone called him anything else, and we are big on nicknames around here.   I called him Poopsie for a while as that is what puppies tend to do.  Poopsie oopsie!  That morphed into Pooper,  then Puffer, then Puff and Puffy.   By the time he becames Puffers, he was a grown teenager and really didn't care what we called him.

Puffy was perfect for two rowdy boys.  He ran and played constantly,  fetch the ball,  pull the rope, jump over people, run along side outside and never ran away from the boys.   Eventually as the boys got older, they turned to other toys,  girls and cars.   He then became my dog.   He'd run the Mr. out of the bed if he could get away with it.   The 4th  child married and the 5th, the idiot Marine, went off to fight in Iraq. 

After the boys left home,  Puffy would go into their room and sniff about looking for them.  I put an unwashed t-shirt on the foot of the bed after the Idiot Marine left home and he'd get up there and sleep on it during the day when we were gone.   He still has a 6th sense and can tell when someone is close to home.  Like 5 miles away close.  

We know he won't be with us too much longer.   He's very frail, but still has spunk enough to start fights with Bonnie and doesn't back down when he does.  That alone will probably cause his demise.  But for today, he's still here.  Still eats like a chow hound, does his regular rounds and likes to get out for walkies even though he's arthritic.   Some people ask us why we don't have him put down as he does have some health issues.   Why would I do that as he seems to be enjoying his life?   He doesn't appear to be ill or in pain, except for the aged hitch in his giddy-up.   Yes, he's smelly.  Yes, he has some funky spells,  Yes, he's ornery as all get out but I suspect if I should live so long,  I would be the same. 

So for today Puffy,  enjoy your PUPCAKE, lick the icing,  eat what you want to all day and be merry! Heck, we may even give you a bowl of your favorite beer tonight.

Happy 17 years with us and we hope you have many more!

Love,  Bonnie and Puffers support staff

Another Skeeree day!

Who knew a little snackie could cause sooooo much drama?

She gave me n Puffie a bone shaped snack, same kind we get every Sunday.  Today I was sooooo eager to get my treatie,  when I grabbed it, I got it in the middle and chomped down so hard the ends fell off and the middle went down my throat. 

I went into immediate dig it out my mouf mode.

Diggin so hard my mouf and feeties were covered in blood.

And if you aren't familiar with Scotties,  our leggies are short.  Little 4 inch stubbies.

So to dig in my extra long mouf,  I hafta curl my mouf under my chest to dig around in there.

I couldn't breathe!

I was in panic mode and she went into rescue mode.

She picked me up upside down and gave me a good shake and part of it fell out.  Then she shoved her big ole mitt down my throat and dug around in there for HOURS it seemed.

She got a bit of it out and then went back for some more.

Finally I was able to get a breath, but it still wasn't all  out.

She got the neighbor to drive us up to the emergency vet clinic which is about 35 minutes away.

I'm choking and gagging and she's prying around in my mouf tryng to see if there was anything caught in my mouf.   Of course, about 10 minutes from the vet, I start being able to breathe and settle down to wash the blood off my paws.    She made me go see the vet anyways, so there was another round of people poking me from both ends.

Now I ask you, in the name of all things Holy, why on earth do they need to take yer temperature when you are choking on a treatie?  First?  BEFORE they open yer yap and take a peek in the correct end?

Noooooo...lets grease up the temp stick and shovie it in the WRONG end.  I'm not SICK, I'm choking!!Maybe they think they needed to do a hind-lick maneuver?  Wanted to make sure that end was warm first?

Then the stoopid vet tech lady goes...."Oh what a cute Schnauzer"...hello, lady, see the TAIL and the naturally pointed ears?  The short stubbie leggies?  

And then again with the vet guy....you wonder where they go to school.....'Nice looking Westie'....um, no...See the color of my fur? WHEATEN, not white.   Ears long and on top of my head almost touching?  And if that isn't proof enuf, check out the LONG mouf...yeah, go ahead...open up the flashy jaws of death and try sticking yer fingers in there.....you'll wish I was a Westie.   Then, he had the nerve to try and tell HER that Scotties are BLACK.   Maybe at the online school where you bought yer diploma dude,  but not out here in the real world. 

For those of you that might need a visual reminder of the differences, here is a great link from Scottish Terrier and Dog News:

http://www.scottishterrieranddognews.com/2008/11/difference-between-scotties-and-westies.html

Anyways,  she tossed a bucket of money at them and we left.  Stoopid vet tried to tell Her I just had the treat stuck in my mouf.   Snort.   We both checked there.   

But the BADDEST news.....I had to get on the scale  (again...WHY?  If I was choking to death in the lobby would I still have to be weighed?)....and...I gained 5 lbs since the Mr. has been out of commission.  The obvious results of Her not taking me on my 3 miles hikes and the Mr. giving me shortbread.  I loooooooovvvvveeeee me some shortbread.   And the Mr. has been known to crumble up a couple in my kibbie.   I heard her mumble something about ONLY carrots and buying a treadmill.   

All this drama over a treatie gone bad.

All's well that ends well, I say.

Bonnie

  

Oh what a day!

You know it's not going right when you are yanked out of your boootee sleep at 06:30 and tossed unceremoniously into the back seat.    No coffee, no walky, no brekky, heck...I didn't even had time to comb my hairs!

Then, horrors of horrors,  I was dropped off at Miss Debbie's for a long spa day.  Heck, Miss Debbie wasn't even there yet!   Smart woman, sleeping in or dawdling over her coffee,  while little me was stuck in a high rise crate.      Then, when it was all over, and I was being rescued, this humongous storm hit!  Wind and rain coming down sideways in sheets.   The Mr. was trying to keep the golf umbrella over me and it turned wrong side out with a huge SNAP!   Oh my shattered nerves!  We had tornados and flood warnings. The metal roof on the boat dock was snapping and popping and She was afraid it was going to blow off.  She made me n Puffy stay in the front bedroom.   Then I was so over-wrought I tried to take Puffy's head off,  or I would have, but she caught me before I could launch my flashy jaws of death on his scrawny chicken bone neck.

I am not a happy little scottie. I've not had my bootee sleep,  they didn't have the right shade of polish for nails at the spa and that rotten Puffy got to stay home all day! He touched my toys, he had Krsipy Kreme donuts and the box was EMPTY when I got home.  Then he had the nerve to snicker about my pink bows.  I'm gonna put a bow on him and ship em off somewhere!!

Somebody better remember to turn off the alarm clock tonight, I am sleeping IN tomorrow and that stinkin Puff better not wake me up or he's gonna be sooorrreeee!

Humph!

Bonnie

peesssss........there better not be any smarty pants remarks about swift warrior princesses not wearing pink bows.

Swift warrior princesses can wear anything they like!

Including PINK.

Especially PINK.

I'm just sayin'..............

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

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!

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. 

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

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

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

Quickie Mr. Update!

Just a quick update to let everyone know the Mr.'s cardiac ablation procedure was a success and he now has rhythm. Watch for him on Dancing with Stars or that other dancing show. I am hoping he will be home by New Years Eve...we gots bowl games to watch on the biggie TV.

Lots love to everyone!

Bonnie

What the....?????

Look at this!!! I don't know where he came from, but if his snout shows up in this house, he's one dead dog walking! How come HE gets to stay with my Mr.??? And I don't! There is just something wrong with all that. I'm gonna grab him by the scruff of his well groomed neck and just give him a wee shake.

Bah Humbug.
I have not had a very Merry Christmas....although SHE did come home Christmas night and stay with me n Puffy. And she gave us nice pressies and nummer cookies. But there wasn't any ham or turkey or dressing and we were lonely. She's been staying with the Mr. And the idiot Marine has been sorta taking care of us, but only the BAREST of doggie care.

My Mr. is going to have another surgery thingy in the morning. They had to call in an electrician or something like that and She says they are gonna shock each heart chamber to try and get him some rhythm. Please keep him in yer pawreyers for a bit more?

SHE wants to let everyone know she has enjoyed following everyone's Christmas antics and good wishes. The hospital has wifi, but it's v e r y s l o w......and she said we will get back to posting once things have settled down a bit.

All my best wishes for a great new year for everydoggie bloggie!

Bonnie

Another Mr. Update

Just a quickie....she blows in and outta here like the wind. I've spent so much time in my crate, I rebelled yesterday and tossed my cookies and marked my spot in my crate. yuckkkie. I've never done that before....I DON'T LIKE STAYING IN THE FREAKIN CRATE THIS MUCH!!!

Anyways, the Mr. is having a bit of trouble....something about tackie rythems.....(he can't dance at all, so we knew that!)...and blood pressure too low ....and wanting to shock his heart. He's a bit queasy from the meds and they won't let him eat anything....she says he's getting grumpy and when he's grumpy he doesn't want to play nice.

If you could keep him in your pawreyers a bit longer, I'd be ever so appreciative.

In the meantime, somebody send me a hack saw so I can bust outta here.

Bonnie

An update on the Mr.

If I could zoom zoom around the world and give everyone that pawrayed for my Mr. a soft woofie kiss, I'd be off n runnin' like the wind right now!

I am soooo happy to report that his valve replacement surgery was a success! During the operation the Dr. discovered the other valve wasn't doing so hot either, so he fixed that while they had the Mr. in the operating room. He was awake around 5ish today and by the time She and my bros and sissy left tonight, the nurse had him sitting up for a bit. They hope to move him out of the CV ICU by tomorrow afternoon if everything goes as well as it is right now.

soft woofie kisses to the world,

Bonnie

peesessss....SHE wants to say something.

"We are so incredibly blessed by the outpouring of kindness and love from all the doggie bloggie friends. We thank you so much for your prayers for the Mr.'s surgery and recovery. I hope you all have a wonderful Christmas season and enjoy your family and friends, 2 legged and 4 legged."

Pam and Rich aka SHE and Mr.

Photo shoot....shot...not...pooey

How to have a PERFECT photo shoot for a splendid Christmas card.

Take one well behaved Scottie....(hahahahhahaaaaa)

Add one cute hat....

Take lots of photos of same Scottie who turned into a whirling dervish.

She finally wore herself out.

Not that the photos improved any.

Sometimes it's just a bad hat day.

For those that have stuck with us this far, I have a Mr. update. He doesn't have any blockages, etc that would require stints or surgeries, but will be having a valve transplant this Friday. They wheeled him straight from the Cath lab to CV ICU. He isn't the most compliant patient, so the ICU nurse had me take his clothes out to the car. He wants to check himself out and do this in 2 weeks. It's soooo not happening. Anyways, if you could keep him in your prayers for good surgery this Friday, I'd really appreciate it. Because he's gone so long and kept putting this off, its now a high risk surgery.

Bonnie will be back to her regular updates soon.

Thanks so much for your kind support,

Bonnie's support staff