New Haircut from Mom

Mom had that crazy look in her eye last night, and I saw her walking around with scissors.  That's definitely not a good sign.  Mom is NOT a licensed doggie beautician.

I tried to hide (of course), but she caught me and put me into the sink of torture...

I tried to plot my escape, with no luck.

Mom was too quick for me.  She held my chin with one hand and went to town with the scissors in the other hand.  I did my best to look super duper pathetic.

Behold, some of the carnage from my forehead, nose, and chin furs, displayed next to Mom's scissors of torture:

Mom's finished product:

Although I hated having my furs trimmed, I do have to give Mom some credit for at least doing a half-way presentable job this time.  It was HORRIBLE the last time she took it upon herself to trim me. That was so embarrassing.

And at least I can finally see again...and I didn't have to go to the groomer's for an entire afternoon...

Replacement Flamingo

If you know me, then you know of my fondness for squeaky toys.  And you probably know that my "fondness" is probably more like an "obsession."  I play with multiple toys every day.  (Mom also steps on multiple squeakies every day.)  

It's not often that I continuously pick the same toy to play with, though. I really do enjoy my selection.  However, I did sort of develop a "favorite" of sorts over the last two years.  It's my pink flamingo.  I dig him out at least once a week.

Mom started to have issues with him, though, 'cause she said he was getting really gross.  His wings are crunchy from my slobbers, and he's not the right color anymore.  He has a few big holes in his tummy, and his legs would probably fall out if I tugged hard enough.  She can't wash the crunchies off 'cause she's afraid he'll fall apart.

I gotta give Mom credit, though, 'cause she did a very good thing.  She went looking on the internet, did some detective work, and she actually found me a NEW flamingo that is identical to my old one!

She wanted to take a picture of it after she gave it to me, but I was too excited about it.  I told her "HANDS OFF!"

Would you believe she stole it from me anyway?!  New flamingo is on the right. Old, crunchy, holey, flamingo is on the left.

Right after she took that picture, of course, I stole him right back.  It was rude of her to give me the new flamingo and then take him back for silly pictures!

I took him under the bed, where she couldn't get to it.  (See my tail sticking out?)

Then Mom got this pic of me playing under the bed.

I just wanted to play in peace with my new, replacement flamingo, though, so I left the bedroom and went into the privacy of my Princess Tent in the living room.  Would you believe she invaded that privacy, too?!

She finally left me alone, and I played and played and played until I wore myself out.  Then while I rested, I also supervised Mom from the Princess Tent's tunnel, with the new flamingo still in my mouth.

This is the first time in the 2.5 years I've lived with Mom that she's had to get me a replacement toy.  I'm sure glad she did, though.

On a not-so-nice note, Mom says I'm overdue for a haircut 'cause she can't see my eyes anymore.  Uh oh...

Snorkel Stick

I was snoozing the other day and minding my own business when Mom started to flip out.  She thought something was growing out of my head.  And then she thought maybe I was wearing a snorkel mask in the living room.

She disturbed my nap by getting closer and taking pictures.

Turns out that it was actually just one of my old, curly, bully sticks.  I'd been sleeping with part of it in my mouth, and the rest just sorta wrapped itself around my head.  (I "chewed" it into its current shape.)

And of course I gave Mom a sleepy stink-eye for disturbing my nap by pulling the bully stick out of my mouth.  How RUDE.  And the camera flashing didn't help matters, either.

She should really know better.

Puppy Snack Mix

Way back when I first got adopted 2.5 years ago, I trained Mom to give me treats at bed time.  Mom used to give me some of my kibble pieces as my snack.  But then as her training advanced, I convinced her to break out the good cookies instead of those healthy kibbles.

Well, she foolishly decided the other day to try to switch me back to the kibbles.

She began trying to sneak it past me by making a puppy snack mix out of dry kibbles and yummy cookies.

I was excited at first, expecting my nightly cookies.  "Gimme those cookies, Mom!"

I investigated the mix.

Started to nibble...

Nibbled some more...

Licked the sheet to make sure I got all the good stuff...

Yawned while licking my lips...

And I do believe I showed Mom exactly what I thought of her new tactic.

Then I glared at her.  "That is NOT going to work. I am NOT eating the kibbles."

I made sure I didn't leave any cookie crumbs...

And then I glared at Mom once again for giving me kibbles.

Seriously.  Give me good cookies.  That's how I've trained you...

Wordless Wednesday: Sleepy Princess

Wordless Wednesday: Squeaky Toy as Pillow

Public Service Announcement: Check Your ID Tags

Yes, this is a public service announcement blog post.  Please, pretty please, have your parents check your ID tags.  Here's why...

Meet Riley.  He's an Australian Shepherd and his parents are friends of my Mom.  Last week, Riley got LOST.  He was lost bad, too.

Riley had a tag on his collar with his parents' phone number on it...but the tag was old and the phone number on the tag was DISCONNECTED!  Isn't that awful?!

Thankfully, Riley was found safe. He was lost for three days and two nights, out in the country in a corn field.   Poor guy.  He was lucky, and his parents were really lucky, too.

Mom went and had a new ID tag made for his parents, so that if he ever gets lost again, his tag would have the right phone number on it.  Riley's parents did the same thing, too!  So now he's got a new tag and a spare one. (I don't think his parents will let him outta their sight, though.)

When he first got lost, Mom couldn't believe that Riley's tag had an old number on it.  That's when she noticed what kinda shape my own tag was in...

My tag was worn and half of my name was gone!!!  Mom's phone number was SUPER hard to read, too!

Mom nearly fainted.  Here she thought she was on top of stuff like that...and my tag was in bad shape!  So embarrassing.  And what would have happened if I'd gotten lost somehow and my finders didn't check for my microchip?!?!

So here's what Mom got today:

Pretty new tag for my collar with all of the right info clearly printed on the back.  Now I'm safer once again!

So, be sure you have your parents check your ID tags, please.  Yours could be worn out like mine was!

Of course there's not much chance of me ever getting lost if I keep hiding in my princess tent...

My Stash

I like to hide under Mom's bed sometimes.

I've actually pushed her stuff around under there, too, to make tunnels and hidey spots for myself.  Pretty cool, huh?  She can't see me AT ALL when I'm under there.

The other day I was napping under the bed when Mom rudely decided that I needed to wake up so she could take me out to potty.  (She claims it had been 10 hours, but whatever...still rude to wake me.)

She couldn't reach me to wake me up, however, since I was in one of my super secret hidey spots.  So instead of just leaving me be, she tried to dig to find me.  

She discovered my secret stash...

Before Mom reached me under the bed, she pulled out 8 squeaky toys and 2 socks.  I was busted for squeaky hoarding.  And, well, sock stealing, too (which I'd never done before...I swear...).

Mom carried my stash out into the living room to photograph the evidence.  I couldn't just let the opportunity pass me by, however.  I decided to PLAY!

Yep.  I rolled in the pile of toys for a while and enjoyed every single minute of it.

What Mom doesn't realize is that I've got an even bigger stash under the OTHER side of her bed...

A Dog, A Bed, and A Dingleberry

Mom keeps a blanket on the bed to keep any dirty stuff from my paws off of "her" part of the bed and "her" sheets.

Well, the other night I woke Mom up in the middle of the night 'cause...well...when you gotta go, you gotta GO!  Mom begrudgingly took me outside so I could take care of business.

When we got back inside I was super excited 'cause I knew I was going to get a cookie.  So I ran to the bedroom and jumped up on the bed to wait for my treat.

What I didn't plan on was a slight, um, "addition" that I brought inside with me.  Yep.  I ran to the bedroom so fast that Mom didn't have a chance to stop me and remove the dingleberry from my hiney.

He he he.

And of course when I jumped up on the bed, I just barely "missed" the blanket Mom puts on the bed for me.  Yes, friends, I got poop on Mom's bed, on her blanket, in the middle of the night.

But don't worry.  The poop on the bed didn't bother me much.  I just went to my own little bed for the rest of the night...

Tilted Tent 2

My princess tent may still be tilted, but it's also quite useful in its current state.  For example, there's a nice new little cubby-hole under the corner that's up in the air.

Well, it would be an even nicer little cubby-hole if it weren't for the camera being in my face.

There's a serious invasion of privacy going on here...

Tilted Tent

My Princess Tent seems to have a bit of a problem these days.  See how it's all crooked and the one front corner is up in the air?

Was it a tornado like in the Wizard of Oz?  No.  Was it an earthquake?  Nope.  Hurricane?  Not a chance.

That was done by a Buttons.

I "may" have been trying to push my toy box out of the tent through the side...maybe... He he he.

But let's be honest.  Shouldn't there be a door there anyway?!