I'm Baaaack

 Sorry we've been AWOL for a little too long.  It's Mom's fault.  She hit the wrong button on the iphone when it asked if she "Trust this computer?"  She said no.  After that we couldn't get the computer to read any photos from the iphone.  I think she got frustrated for a while.  But she came back like a trooper today, and finally figured out how to fix it.

It just goes to show that you should never violate someone's trust, 'cuz it's really hard to get back.  That's what I told Mom.  

Anyway, I do have a funny story for you.  You remember my friend Cufy, the robot vaccuum.  Well she got herself in a pickle.  I was standing in the hall, when I saw the oddest thing.  The placemat that Mom keeps next to her chair was travelling down the hall.  All by itself.

Well, I decided not to stay and see what would cause a placemat to travel down the hall and I turned tail (get it?  Turned Tail, like my tail was heading one way and after it was heading another way.)  I started to head toward the bedroom where I'd be safe on the bed.

But then I noticed something peaking out from under the placemat.  What was it?

What do you know?  It was my friend Cufy.  I decided to help her out.  I don't know how she got under Mom's placemat, but I took it off her.  Now she can go about her work like normal.  

Maybe she was just trying to be funny?  It did look funny.  Ha, Ha, Cufy, you little fooler!  Maybe that's why I like Cufy.  Sometimes she's just like me.

Hope you have a funny friend to play with.

Love, G.

Life really IS getting back to normal!

 Yesterday, Mom and I dropped Dad off at the golf course.  Just like we used to BC (that's Before Covid, in case you didn't know.)  That usually means that I get to go to the Dog Park.  And YAY!! That's exactly what we did.  \

This time was even better than before.  That's because there was a water leak in the Big Dog side, so we all went over to the Little Dog side with all the Little Dogs.  They didn't mind, in fact they invited us over, so we had big dogs, and little dogs, and dogs like me, medium dogs!

I even met a little dog that reminded me a lot of a friend I used to have when I would go and visit Mrs. Jan when Mom and Dad would go away.  (They haven't gone away in an awfully long time.  I kinda wish they would so I could have fun with a dog sitter.  They give me more treats!)  

Anyway, this is a picture of some of us big and smalls:

Sometimes I rather play with the small dogs.  They don't do things like those two who are play fighting.  Even though I know they are play fighting, I don't like someone biting on my cheek.  With little dogs, I let them jump on my head and we have more fun that way.

After the park, we went to breakfast.  There was a nice waiter who asked me what kind of bacon I wanted.  I said crispy and so that's what Mom got.  But she did share it with me.

We had a great morning and then we went home and I went to sleep.  The only thing that would have made it better is if my Dad had been there to take a nap with me like he does when he isn't playing golf.

Hope your days are getting back to normal and you get to meet with your friends big and small and medium!

Love, G

It's Spring!

 And the birds are mating and the cactus is blooming and I'm enjoying the weather!  (AND Mom is cleaning, but that's her problem!)

Mom showed me a picture of an Owl that is having new babies. She made her nest in a flower pot on the balcony of Mom's golf club.  Luckily it was outside the LADIES locker room.  They were real careful and quiet so she could have the babies in peace.  Probably if Moma Owl had picked the men's locker room, she wouldn't have had a nice time of it. 

And now her babies popped up and here they are:

Wow!  They are so cute.  

Then a couple of Mourning Doves got a little frisky in our back yard and what do you know?  Moma Dove is sitting on a nest with her babies, too.  I sometimes don't like Mourning Doves 'cuz they make so much noise in the morning.  It's noisy when mourning doves mourn in the morning!  Tee hee...

This is Daddy Dove.

He struts around like he owns the place.  But hey, he brings Momma Dove food while she sits on the eggs.  I think I would rather be Daddy Dove than Momma Dove.  It must be really boring just sitting there all day.

And sometimes, she must get really scared, 'cuz the Gamble Quails come and make noises near her.  They look like they are taunting her and calling her names.  She just closes her eyes and ruffles her feathers.  But I chase the Gamble Quails away.  I yelled at them twice and they haven't been back since!  I may not like the noise that mourning doves make, but they shouldn't be mean to Momma Dove when she is trying to have her babies.

The other spring thing that I love is the Giant Argentinian Cactus that lives down the street.  It blooms for only a couple of days, but it is SO pretty.  It's right on our way to my usual green spot so I never miss it when it pops up its pretty flowers.

Yeah, I like spring.  

Hope you are having a beautiful spring, too.

Love, G

I'm on a diet. Oh, joy....

 The last time we went to the vet, Mom said I gained too much weight.  I don't think that could be right because when we were at the vet the cute gals gave me lots of treats.  If the vet's cute gals are giving me treats then they must think I'm pretty svelte.  Do you like that word?  It means a pup who is slender and elegant.  And that's me!  But Mom didn't agree.

So what did she do?  Since we don't live real near the vet anymore, she bought me my own scale.  She used to just pick me up and stand on the scale herself, and then Dad would read the numbers out to her.  But that was when I only weighed about 15 pounds.  I have to admit, I do weigh a lot more than that.

She says I should weigh between 62 and 65 pounds.  This piece of metal she bought that she calls a doggie scale says I weigh over 70 pounds.

I don't think that can be right.  I hardly eat anything.  Mom hardly feeds me anymore.  In fact, when I started not to like my dog food, she started giving me less and adding stuff like Pumpkin.  What self respecting puppy dog eats Pumpkin?  But it's actually kind of tasty and makes the dry dog food moister.  So I guess that's OK.  And better yet, she sneaks a little chicken or leftovers from dinner, so I really do like my dog food these days.  But I don't get a peanut butter bone with my breakfast anymore.  I hardly ever get peanut butter anymore anytime.  

When we go out to lunch with Dad, I used to get lots of treats from their plates.  Now Mom brings cut up carrots for me.  Which, I don't really mind carrots.  But when she tried to slip in some of those green beans in my supper.  Well, I had to draw the line.  I won't eat any green stuff!  I'm a lot like my Dad that way.  

So I've been thinking.  If I get back down to 62 or 65, maybe I can get my peanut butter back.  So here's my plan.  I get on the scale real quick so Mom doesn't see what I'm doing.  But I ease my tail just off the side so she can't see.  Then I can weigh 34 pounds and she'll feel real sorry for me and feed me every time I want.  (Which, by the way is about 24/7!)

Hope you don't have to skip your peanut butter and be on a diet.

Love, G

I Got a Doggie Door! Sorta...

 You remember when I used to live in Clayton?  I hardly remember.  It seems like 28 years ago.  Wait, it was 28 years ago in dog years!  Anyway, I'm digressing again.  When I lived in Clayton, we had a doggie door.  It was supposed to let me go outside anytime I wanted to.  But I never wanted to because I would have to go through that tiny door and maybe it wouldn't let me back in again.

So I never went through the dumb door even though Mom brought another pup over to show me how.  NOT DOING IT!

Here in Arizona, we don't have one of those tiny doors.  When I want to go out, I just sit in front of the back door and wait.  If I'm pointed toward the back door, it means I want to go out back.  But if I'm pointed the other way, it means I want to go out the front.  Sometimes Mom doesn't understand which way I want to go, but when she opens the back door and I don't go out, then she knows it was the wrong door.  

Mom has to get up from wherever she is and open the door for me.  Which doesn't make her real happy, because I usually wait until she is all curled up in her chair before I go to the door to go out.  She used to say that we should get another Doggie Door like we had in Clayton.  I explained to her that she might see some rattle snakes or coyotes or even my javelina friend in the living room if she got a Doggie Door.  That settled it.  We didn't get another Doggie Door.

But she still hated to get up every time I wanted to go out.  See, I go out about 17 times a day.  She has to put away her book or whatever she is working on, unwind her legs and get up to do the door 17 times 2 times.  (I do have to come in whenever I go out, so it's twice as many times.)  But we came up with a fun solution.

This is my new Doggie Door.

It's that stick I circled in red.  It's actually the bottom of a rake, and Mom uses it to open and close the door right from her chair.

Of course, she still has to get up at least once to unlock and open the door, but after that, she just doesn't close it all the way.  I think it's pretty clever and WE came up with it together.  That makes me pretty clever too!

She says she might teach me to close the door after I come in.  I would be in favor of that.  Why?  Because it would come with a lot of treats and I love love love treats.  She says we'll have to wait until my weight comes down.  Did I tell you I'm on a diet?  Maybe we'll talk about that another time.

Anyway, I'm liking going outside anytime I want and Mom's liking that she doesn't have to get up every time I do.  It sure beats a real doggie door.  And the rattle snakes can stay outside!

Hope you have a good Doggie Door Alternative!

Love, G

Who (or what) am I really?

 When I was working with the elementary school kids, Mom did a project with them to try and guess what kind of dog I am (other than just a perfect specimen of a loving furbuddy!).  She was going to surprise them by actually doing a DNA test so we could really find out.  I remember when she stuck a cotton swab in my mouth.  I had just finished munching on a marrow bone and the cotton swab didn't taste nearly as good as that marrow bone!

So when the results came back.  Mom didn't even share them with the kids.  She just thought maybe the marrow bone had interfered with the results.  That was 'cuz the results said I was 12.5% Bullmastiff, 12.5% German Shepherd, 12.5% Labrador, 12.5% Mastiff and 50% a mix of collies, chow chows and others.

If you don't know what a Bullmastiff or a Mastiff is, here is their description. 

About the Bullmastiff

The Bullmastiff isn’t quite as large as his close cousin the Mastiff. Still, standing as high as 27 inches at the shoulder and weighing between 100 and 130 pounds, this is still a whole lot of dog. After the first impression made by the Bullmastiff’s size, it is the large, broad head that conveys the breed’s essence: the dark eyes, high-set V-shaped ears, and broad, deep muzzle all combine to present the intelligence, alertness, and confidence that make the Bullmastiff a world-class protector and family companion. Coats come in fawn, red, or brindle.

These are biddable and reliable creatures, but as with any large guarding dog, owners must begin training and socialization early, while the puppy is still small enough to control.

OK, so I'm much better looking than that!  And 100 - 130 pounds?  Mom's got me on a diet now, and I only weigh 70 pounds!  Somebody tell my Mom I need more food!  But I did like the part about the "world-class protector" and "family companion".  I'm all of that.  

But what about the Mastiff?

About the Mastiff

For the uninitiated, a face-to-face encounter with these black-masked giants can be startling. A male stands at least 30 inches at the shoulder and can outweigh many a full-grown man. The rectangular body is deep and thickly muscled, covered by a short double coat of fawn, apricot, or brindle stripes. The head is broad and massive, and a wrinkled forehead accentuates an alert, kindly expression. Mastiffs are patient, lovable companions and guardians who take best to gentle training. Eternally loyal Mastiffs are protective of family, and a natural wariness of strangers makes early training and socialization essential. Mastiffs are magnificent pets, but acquiring a powerful giant-breed dog is commitment not to be taken lightly.

Now that's one goofy looking pooch!  No wonder Mom didn't think the DNA test made any sense.  She said they must have gotten DNA from the cow whose marrow bone I was chewing.  Had to agree.

Except, last month she decided to try again with a different outfit.  Guess what?  My grandparents on my dad's side were a Mastiff and a Labrador Retriever/St. Bernard mix.  (Saint Bernard?  Really?)  And my grandparents on my Mom's side were a German Shepherd and a Chow Chow/Collie Mix.  

Thank heaven there was a Collie in there somewhere.  Where else would I have gotten so good at my Border Collie stare?  

And I guess I do evidence some aspects of a Chow Chow (though that's one ugly dog!)

About the Chow Chow

Chows are powerful, compactly built dogs standing as high as 20 inches at the shoulder. Their distinctive traits include a lion’s-mane ruff around the head and shoulders; a blue-black tongue; deep-set almond eyes that add to a scowling, snobbish expression; and a stiff-legged gait. Chows can have rough or smooth coats of red, black, blue, cinnamon, or cream.

Owners say Chows are the cleanest of dogs: They housebreak easily, have little doggy odor, and are known to be as fastidious as cats. Well-socialized Chows are never fierce or intractable, but always refined and dignified. They are aloof with strangers and eternally loyal to loved ones. Serene and adaptable, with no special exercise needs, Chows happily take to city life.

I must say, I have NO doggy odor and I am certainly refined and dignified.  Have you seen my lovely sit?

Mom says she refuses to believe I have a drop of Labrador in me.  She says I'm much too intelligent for that.  And who am I to argue with Mom?

So anyway, that's not who I am.  That's who my ancestors were.  I am just Guinness and I like being Guinness.  And Mom says I'm the best kind of mix she would ever want.  

Hope you have some interesting ancestors!

Love, G

New Resident

 Amazon delivered a new resident to our home a few weeks ago.  Mom said it was a Christmas present from Dad (he said that wasn't really what he wanted to get her but it was what she said she wanted.)

I don't know about this one.  Dad calls it "Cuffy".  I can't tell if it's a dog or a cat or what.

Mom can make it come to her when she calls.  Just like me.  But she has to use her phone to do it and she doesn't give it a treat when it comes.  It pays more attention to Mom than it does to Dad (just like me, hee hee.)

Sometimes it barks something I don't understand, but Mom seems to know what it means and she goes to find it to help it.  Once she had to pull Dad's sneakers out of its mouth.  At least I know you're not supposed to eat up Dad's sneakers.  Yeesh.  This thing is dumb. 

So why does Mom act like she really likes it?  She says Cuffy keeps the dust off the floor.  And I guess that must be true, because even I can tell that the floors are clean and Mom doesn't have to take out those nasty vacuums and steam cleaners every week anymore.  At least that's a benefit.

As long as it doesn't start eating my food, I guess I can let it stay.  It doesn't really bother me much.  Maybe we'll get to be friends after awhile.  I'll give it a chance anyway.

Hope you have better friends than Cuffy!

Love, G