Kibble War

I put myself to bed early tonight. Really early.

It wasn't 'cause I was tired, either.  It's because of THIS:

That, my friends, is a bowl of plain old kibble.  I'm refusing to eat it.  For years I've trained Mom to doctor up my kibble with canned dog food, beef broth, hamburger, rice, etc.  For some unknown reason, however, Mom has been cutting back on the good stuff.  For the last two days, she has only given me nothing but PLAIN OLD KIBBLE.

This is unacceptable.

So, tonight I refused to eat my supper and I put myself to bed early.  There's a method to my madness, though.

You see, when I go to bed, I always get a "night night cookie."  That's right...a treat for going to bed.  So since I was refusing to eat my kibble, I decided to just go to bed for my night night cookie instead.  I was hungry, after all.

Brilliant plan, if I do say so myself!

I barked at Mom from the bedroom until she brought me my cookie.  (That way she knew I was serious.)  Then I scarfed it down!

It was yummy!

This was really a brilliant move on my part.  Totally got Mom to give me a cookie and avoided the plain old kibble.

And of course I gave Mom my "GIVE ME MORE COOKIES" look to try to get another one out of her.

Sadly, that didn't work as well.

And now I need to point out something a bit unusual in the very first picture I posted tonight.  Here it is again:

See that pink spot in my chin furs?  Here's a zoomed-in version:

That's a scrap of one of the magazines I've been shredding under Mom's bed.  She caught me red-handed tonight.  Oopsie...

At least Santa already came...and I already got a cookie tonight...

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas to you from my Mom and me!

(Click on the picture to enlarge it!)

 

Mischief Abounds

I suppose I should really cool it with the ornery stuff since it's getting so close to Christmas.  For some reason, however, I just can't seem to stop myself!

This past weekend, for example, Mom and I were visiting our cool neighbor and I sniffed out a bag of rawhides. Our neighbor got them for a Christmas present for another doggy.  I didn't care.  I could smell what was in that bag and I wanted it. So, I barked.

And I barked.

And barked.

I wouldn't give up on getting those rawhides.  Even when they distracted me and hid the bag.

After about a bazillion minutes of my constant barking, Mom finally got tired of it.  Instead of giving me the rawhides, however, she said we had to go home early from our visit because "someone" wouldn't behave.  Oops.

Last night, then, some more of my mischief came to light.  I'd been working on this one for a long, long time. You see, Mom had a bag of old magazines, papers, and letters that was on the floor on the side of her bed.  Over time, I pulled the bag underneath the bed and proceeded to shred both the bag and its contents.

In the middle of the night, of course, when Mom was sleeping.

She knew I was up to something under there, but she wasn't quite sure what.  I blew my cover, however, when I started dragging stuff out the opposite side of the bed...

"Where on earth did all of these shredded papers come from, Mom?!"

You'll note that there's a mix of dog toys and one of Mom's socks in that mess, too.

I tried to look all innocent.

I guess there's no hiding the mess, though.

Maybe Santa won't care???

Naughty or Nice

So you know Mom and I have that ongoing argument about me going poo and pee in the spare bedroom.  Well, last Saturday Mom thought she'd straighten out my naughtiness by taking me to see the Big Man.  That's right...we went to Petsmart and saw Santa.

I hope I convinced him that I'm really not a naughty pup.  I'm nice, through and through...

I sure hope I didn't blow it, though, when I peed on the sidewalk right in the doorway to Petsmart.

Mom told me to "wait" 'cause we had to let some cars go by.  I may have taken advantage of the opportunity to leave a little "gift" for another pup to sniff.  Probably shouldn't have done that right after sitting on Santa's lap.

Mom still gave me a new Santa toy and some yummy cookies we got in the store.

But I hope I didn't blow it with the Big Man.

Maybe I shouldn't have piddled there...

Oh, dear.

Am I too naughty for Christmas presents now?!?!

The Closed Door

You know what this is?

That, my friends, is a closed door.  Mom did that.  You may wonder why on earth she would close off part of our house.  Well, she claims it's because I did this...

And this...

...in that room.

Now I ask you, is this fair?  Should I really be blocked from entering and "enjoying" part of my house???

We've established in the past that I should get rights to 50% of this house since it's only Mom and me here.  That means I get 50% of that closed off room, too.  And besides, Mom only uses it to store stuff in.  So it's perfectly fine in my opinion if I choose to use the room for...other...um...uses...

I've given Mom my best looks of pure innocence, but she's not buying it.

*sighs*

As soon as I get a step stool and opposable thumbs, that room is all mine...