My mommy....

Hello, everyone. Today, I want to talk about my mommy. I try not to let on to Daddy that Mommy is my favorite, but it's kind of obvious sometimes. Especially when they come home and I run (well as fast as I can move) to the door to greet them. If Daddy happens to be the first in the door, I move past her to get to Mommy to welcome her home. Daddy always says something like, "Oh, fine. I know where I rate." Then I trot over to Daddy who always gives me ear rubs despite saying, "Now you come to me." I think she gets it. I believe I've "imprinted" with Mommy and have since I was a young pup.

That's why it's been especially hard these past months. I think that's what I've heard Mommy and Daddy call the passage of time. As a dog, to me any passage of time seems like forever. But we'll go with "months." Mommy hasn't been herself. She was gone back in April forever (I think Daddy said a "week"). When she came home, Daddy wouldn't let me jump up on her. She kept saying, "No, Buddy... Mommy had surgery," when all I wanted to do was leap into my mommy's lap to let her know how much I missed her. But apparently "leaping" is a big no-no. I thought I'd eventually be allowed to leap in her lap, but then Mommy had an infection that lasted forever. The best I could do was some head pats and ear rubs while sitting beside her chair. Until yesterday. Yesterday was the first time I could be in her lap. I jumped up when she least expected it and she giggled. I knew then it was okay.

Mommy has had to rest a lot since her surgery. Sometimes, it's just been me and Daddy. Daddy has been sad. She told me about Mommy's cancer and Grandpa's too. I don't understand it all, only that cancer's a "bad thing." Kind of like when I hear "bad boy." Anything with "bad" in it can't be good. But I've licked Daddy's face when she's cried and it's seemed to help some. I've heard Daddy say that Friday is Mommy's last treatment and that is a "good thing." I love to hear "good boy," so I get it.

I want things to go back to the way they were, but I don't know if they ever will. What I do know is that I love Mommy very much. I love Daddy, too, but like I said, Mommy's my favorite. I've been surrounded by their love since I was a puppy. I know that will never change.....

Long time, no bark....

Greetings to all my special friends, girlfriends, Bella and Clover... and too many other girlfriends to count. I want to share something that's happened here at home, and I need an honest opinion. First, a question for all the four-legged beauties out there: Do you like the smell of a real male hound dog? Let me explain... My mommy and daddy got upset because, after a run in our backyard, I came into the house with the scent of a "real dog." Yes... I rolled in that which shall not be named. I held my head high and my tail straight up in a proud position as I sauntered into the living room. I moseyed over to Daddy and proceeded to get some pets and ear scratches. It was then that Mommy looked at Daddy and said, "What is that smell?" (They think I don't understand when they talk--little do they know.) Daddy looked at the side of my face and, with a shout of "Ew!", realized the smell was emanating from my gorgeous hunk of male hound. She asked Mommy if she had any suggestions. Obviously, Mommy, who is always cleaning, said I needed to be washed. Now, what's a fella to do? Guys, tell me what would you do after you spent a glorious run in your backyard and had a frolicking moment of a lifetime?

Needless to say, Daddy washed certain areas of my body, but lucky me, the smell's not totally gone. Yesterday, which was the day after "the event," Mommy called and made an appointment for a complete grooming at the vet's office. I tried to think of ways to get out of this--like being cute, posing so that Daddy will take pictures of me and... well... just being me. This was my tactic so they'd forget, but I guess the smell is what did me in. Oh well. It ain't over to 'til the slightly overweight beagle sings. There's always another day.

Take care all my four-legged friends and remember... Buddy is THE MAN!

A day at the grandparents' house

Hello to all my fair tailed handsome and beautiful fur friends (and their caretakers who think they're in charge). I apologize for the length between my blog posts... Daddy has been hogging the laptop again.

Boy did I get in trouble yesterday! I went with Mommy and Daddy to visit Grandma, Grandpa and Uncle David. My uncle just came in from Japan, so I was really excited to see him. 

As usual, my mommy and daddy brought lunch and yes, they put me outside in the backyard while they were eating. This is so annoying. They think I don’t have manners at the table. But what would you do if you were me? I happen to be a hunka hunka of burning love (my daddy loves Elvis). Is it a crime to sit quietly and beg, using my big brown eyes as a secret weapon? To gaze up lovingly while everyone is eating at the kitchen table? And bat my long eyelashes for maximum effect? I mean really, is this a good reason to put me in the backyard? Now, you tell me, am I annoying or cute? I'm not askin' the caretakers here... I'm asking my fur friends. The ones who understand how you have to "work it" to get a morsel of food.

Well, they ate and talked while I sat outside howling. You didn’t think I would go down without a fight, did you? Eventually, they brought me into the house.

I sat in the kitchen hovering by what I call the white monolith, which occupies a small portion of the kitchen. I knew that eventually, something would be needed, someone would open the door, and the seven wonders of the food chain would be revealed to me. It happened! I was quick and undaunted. While Daddy opened the door, I hustled in front of her--so fast she didn’t see me--and snatched a chicken breast before she could stop me! YUMMY! She yelled my name. Man, she seriously overreacted! By the time she tried to get the chicken away from me, I had eaten most of it. She was saying something about the bones and that it wasn’t good for me, but I didn’t care because it was delicious. Mommy yelled at Daddy to put me back outside. HELLO! Will they ever learn this is what caused the problem in the first place?

ANYway... later, as I sat by Daddy, she said, "He doesn't look good." Uncle David agreed, saying I looked "pale." I almost snorted. How could a dog look "pale"? But as I started to snort, my tummy did a little turn. It quickly righted itself. Daddy stuck me back outside again. I'm sure she thought I was going to dispose of the chicken carcass right there in the living room floor. I was fine, though. I didn't even have to munch on grass. I would think they'd know by now that I have a cast iron stomach.

I still enjoyed myself, though. It was good to see Grandpa and Grandma, as always. And Uncle Dave let me sit by him on the couch. I licked his face, which got me some extra scratches behind the ears.

All in all, it was a successful... er... uh... nice visit.