Anyway, hope it makes you smile.
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
If Only I Had a Labrador Interpreter
I finally got Sam to talk on camera! He always talks like this, I've just never been able to film it properly before. He's been talking since day one, and now he does it on command. Oh, and in addition to talking, you also get to see Sam act like his usual silly self. I'd say it's a bonus but he does it all the time, so it's more of a given.
Anyway, hope it makes you smile.
Anyway, hope it makes you smile.
Before I Forget
Here are those shirt videos I've been meaning to post. They're not that great; don't get excited. In fact they're sort of anticlimactic after all the waiting. But Sam's cute, and he looks ridiculous trying to walk while biting his sleeves.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Sunday, August 29, 2010
Faster than a Speeding Bullet!
Sam and I have spent another relaxing afternoon on the back porch. Well, relaxing for me; for Sam it was much more productive.
Before I show you what he's eaten today, here's a picture of his new ball that he popped yesterday:
Yep. No amount of duct tape and bungee cords can fix that.
Today Sam worked a bit more on the old pair of pool shoes on the porch; he's made quite a bit of headway with them. He's bitten off both straps and is systematically disintegrating the soles. Here's his progress so far:
Pretty impressive, eh? I was getting tired of picking up the little crumbly pieces of shoe, though, so I got an old softball out and we played fetch with that for awhile. When he settled down to chew, I went back to my book. Bud and Thor used to love softballs, and while they'd occasionally skin them, they usually didn't do much more than that. Sam had the ball for maybe fifteen minutes before he'd skinned it, ripped out the threads, and eaten halfway through the cork interior. I took it away from him then because I didn't want him swallowing any of the cork bits, but really, I think trying to keep Sam from eating things he shouldn't is a lost cause.
Eventually he'll learn to drag out his destruction. Ruin something too quickly, and you're bored for the rest of the day. Draw it out, and you've got entertainment for a couple of hours instead of a couple seconds. I'm sure he'll catch on in the long run. Until then, though--wait, hold on, he got a hold of a ceramic dragonfly. SAM!!
...
Okay. Try again. Until then, though, I'm going to have to keep tabs on him and his speed-chewing so he doesn't destroy the entire house while I'm not looking. The combination of rampant kleptomania and 0 to obliterated in under three minutes means I must always be on my toes. In the words of Mad-Eye Moody: "Vigilance!!"
You've been struck by the smooth criminal!
Before I show you what he's eaten today, here's a picture of his new ball that he popped yesterday:
Deflated in under four hours
Yep. No amount of duct tape and bungee cords can fix that.
Today Sam worked a bit more on the old pair of pool shoes on the porch; he's made quite a bit of headway with them. He's bitten off both straps and is systematically disintegrating the soles. Here's his progress so far:
Approximately 3 hours' worth of work
Pretty impressive, eh? I was getting tired of picking up the little crumbly pieces of shoe, though, so I got an old softball out and we played fetch with that for awhile. When he settled down to chew, I went back to my book. Bud and Thor used to love softballs, and while they'd occasionally skin them, they usually didn't do much more than that. Sam had the ball for maybe fifteen minutes before he'd skinned it, ripped out the threads, and eaten halfway through the cork interior. I took it away from him then because I didn't want him swallowing any of the cork bits, but really, I think trying to keep Sam from eating things he shouldn't is a lost cause.
Gone in sixty seconds
Eventually he'll learn to drag out his destruction. Ruin something too quickly, and you're bored for the rest of the day. Draw it out, and you've got entertainment for a couple of hours instead of a couple seconds. I'm sure he'll catch on in the long run. Until then, though--wait, hold on, he got a hold of a ceramic dragonfly. SAM!!
...
Okay. Try again. Until then, though, I'm going to have to keep tabs on him and his speed-chewing so he doesn't destroy the entire house while I'm not looking. The combination of rampant kleptomania and 0 to obliterated in under three minutes means I must always be on my toes. In the words of Mad-Eye Moody: "Vigilance!!"
Saturday, August 28, 2010
Why Hello Ladies
Today our neighbors were holding a birthday party for their daughter, so their dogs, Sadie and Zoey, came over to our yard to stay out of everyone's way. Sam, as you can expect, was beside himself with joy. Two friends to play with for hours and they can't get away!
Mostly the girls stayed by the fence, looking longingly into their own yard where children ran around giggling and playing on a water slide, while Sam tried unsuccessfully to entice them into play. Sadie would have none of it; she's very attached to her family and doesn't have that much patience for Sam, so when he'd tackle her she'd snap at him or snarl to get him to back off. And given Sam's Labrador IQ, she had to continue to do so until Sam finally got the hint.
Zoey, the younger of the two girls, was more open to playing. She and Sam chased each other around the yard for awhile, and Zoey followed Sam into the pool for a brief swim. Even Zoey's considerable patience wore thin after a couple of hours of this, though, and toward the end she started snapping at him too. Poor Sam. There are very few creatures on this earth that can keep up with a seven-month-old Labrador pup, especially one with full access to a pool.
As I type this on the back porch (it's been raining most of the day and is nice and cool out, so I've been reading out here for the past couple of hours), Sam's keeping watch around a pair of trees in the backyard where he recently cornered a squirrel I pointed out to him. He's looking up in the trees, his tail wagging furiously, then looking back across the yard to me with perked ears, as though waiting for me to give him directions.
Earlier he was playing with his ball, or should I say, the replacement ball, since he popped the big green one he loved so much a couple of weeks back when it lost enough air for him to bite down and tear it. We got him a replacement ball yesterday and blew it up this morning, hoping it would give him something else to focus on other than bothering the girls. (And it did; he pushed it into the pool and spent a solid half hour jumping in after it and pushing it around like a seal.) But he popped that one too about an hour ago; I was watching him from the porch when he did it. Everything normal, going fine, then whoosh! The air flooded out of a four-inch long gash in the side, deflating under Sam's very paws. He stared at it curiously for maybe half a second, then immediately switched gears into kleptomania, snagged the deflated skin of the ball, and pranced around the yard with it like a prize.
Now he's back in the porch with me (I've found if I leave the porch door propped open and he can come and go as he pleases, he doesn't whine to be let in or destroy things when he can't get back out) and trying to dry himself by rolling around on the floor and growling. Oh, wait, nevermind, I think he's found a bug. He's digging at the edge of the carpet--well, I hope it was a bug, since he just ate it. I think it may have been a dead beetle.
All in all, a good day for Sam. Oh, and in case you noticed Sam's collar is green now instead of orange, the change is courtesy of my family from Texas. The new collar and a matching leash were a gift from them, and I think he looks quite nice in forest green. Thank you again!
Sadie, the pit bull
Zoey, the boxer
Zoey, the boxerMostly the girls stayed by the fence, looking longingly into their own yard where children ran around giggling and playing on a water slide, while Sam tried unsuccessfully to entice them into play. Sadie would have none of it; she's very attached to her family and doesn't have that much patience for Sam, so when he'd tackle her she'd snap at him or snarl to get him to back off. And given Sam's Labrador IQ, she had to continue to do so until Sam finally got the hint.
The girls watching their yard while Sam just wants to play
Zoey, the younger of the two girls, was more open to playing. She and Sam chased each other around the yard for awhile, and Zoey followed Sam into the pool for a brief swim. Even Zoey's considerable patience wore thin after a couple of hours of this, though, and toward the end she started snapping at him too. Poor Sam. There are very few creatures on this earth that can keep up with a seven-month-old Labrador pup, especially one with full access to a pool.
Sam and Sadie keep watch
All three doggies together!
All three doggies together!As I type this on the back porch (it's been raining most of the day and is nice and cool out, so I've been reading out here for the past couple of hours), Sam's keeping watch around a pair of trees in the backyard where he recently cornered a squirrel I pointed out to him. He's looking up in the trees, his tail wagging furiously, then looking back across the yard to me with perked ears, as though waiting for me to give him directions.
Earlier he was playing with his ball, or should I say, the replacement ball, since he popped the big green one he loved so much a couple of weeks back when it lost enough air for him to bite down and tear it. We got him a replacement ball yesterday and blew it up this morning, hoping it would give him something else to focus on other than bothering the girls. (And it did; he pushed it into the pool and spent a solid half hour jumping in after it and pushing it around like a seal.) But he popped that one too about an hour ago; I was watching him from the porch when he did it. Everything normal, going fine, then whoosh! The air flooded out of a four-inch long gash in the side, deflating under Sam's very paws. He stared at it curiously for maybe half a second, then immediately switched gears into kleptomania, snagged the deflated skin of the ball, and pranced around the yard with it like a prize.
Now he's back in the porch with me (I've found if I leave the porch door propped open and he can come and go as he pleases, he doesn't whine to be let in or destroy things when he can't get back out) and trying to dry himself by rolling around on the floor and growling. Oh, wait, nevermind, I think he's found a bug. He's digging at the edge of the carpet--well, I hope it was a bug, since he just ate it. I think it may have been a dead beetle.
All in all, a good day for Sam. Oh, and in case you noticed Sam's collar is green now instead of orange, the change is courtesy of my family from Texas. The new collar and a matching leash were a gift from them, and I think he looks quite nice in forest green. Thank you again!
Friday, August 27, 2010
Samwise is a Tricksy Dogger
I know I know. I haven't posted a lot this week. It's the first week of back to school for me, so I've been trying to get a new routine going.
Anyway, Sam seems to have taken exception to me being gone so often (and not taking him with me, for shame!), and his displeasure is manifesting in a flurry of thievery. Sam's always been the opportunistic criminal, but recently he's ventured into full blown clinical kleptomania.
Case(s) in point: I came home today and took him with me down to the side of the road to bring in the empty garbage cans. The recycling truck hadn't come yet, so that bin was still full. Sam immediately grabbed an empty chocolate milk bottle and made a mad dash back into the yard with it. I spent the next five minutes alternately chasing, threatening, and tempting him with imaginary treats, all in an effort to return the milk bottle to the curb. Ultimately I got him to trade a stick for it, which apparently is a good deal.
Later in the afternoon, I was sitting on the porch minding my own business, reading Margaret Atwood's Alias Grace for one of my classes, when Sam trots by the porch, smells me, stops, sees me, and starts whining incessantly to be let in. Now, I've let Sam in the porch with me before, and it's only resulted in him trying to get into my lap, destroying a pair of old yard flip flops, or gnawing on pool noodles. I let him in the porch yesterday with me and he actually got a hold of a broken set of wind chimes and pranced around with a metal chime in his mouth. Clearly I was not letting him in the porch again, especially when I was trying to read and take notes.
When the begging didn't work, Sam started barking. That high-pitched, whiny bark he uses when he can see me but can't get to me. I tried to get him to go play with Dad, who was sitting on the swing in his shop, but no, Sam would not be deterred. So finally I got up, went outside, and went over to the shop swing with Sam in tow.
Mistake. Don't ever appear to have free time while you're outside with Dad. I was immediately put to work pruning tree limbs Dad complained would hit him when he was mowing. Dad cut the limbs down and I chopped them into the required 4' long pieces. Or rather, I chopped the ones I managed to claim, since Sam stole every new branch that fell down and frequently returned to make off with limbs I'd already cut and stacked in piles. No, my usual neat piles of evenly-cut limbs were an impossibility today. Not with The Artful Sammer on the loose.
Eventually we got all the limbs out to the road, and of course, Sam had to grab one and make another mad dash back into the yard. I went after him, but had nothing to trade with this time, since he was the one with the stick. I managed to fake him out by telling him to look for Nelly, then grabbing the stick and running like crazy back for the driveway while his back was turned. Dad ran interference for me and I made it safely to the road.
Afterward I was enjoying the last sips of my tea from Subway, when Sam snatched that out of my hand, straw and all, and ran off with it. Eventually the top came off and the ice spilled out, which distracted him enough for me to get the cup back. Unfortunately it was a bit late for me to save the tea, though. Sorry dog.
(Side note: a flock of six or seven Canada geese has taken up residence in the neighborhood lately, and I've been sorely tempted to let Sam offleash near them. Not so he could terrorize the birds, but so the birds could terrorize him. They wouldn't fly off, they'd gang up and peck him. And I think it's a life lesson Sam could use. Character-building, if you will.)
I don't have photographic evidence of any of this because it was drizzling throughout the entire afternoon, and I didn't want to get my camera wet. But I do have pictures of him once I let him in the kitchen afterward, soggy and thoroughly unrepentant.
Oh, Sam. What a goofball. A thieving, sneaky little goofball.
Anyway, Sam seems to have taken exception to me being gone so often (and not taking him with me, for shame!), and his displeasure is manifesting in a flurry of thievery. Sam's always been the opportunistic criminal, but recently he's ventured into full blown clinical kleptomania.
Case(s) in point: I came home today and took him with me down to the side of the road to bring in the empty garbage cans. The recycling truck hadn't come yet, so that bin was still full. Sam immediately grabbed an empty chocolate milk bottle and made a mad dash back into the yard with it. I spent the next five minutes alternately chasing, threatening, and tempting him with imaginary treats, all in an effort to return the milk bottle to the curb. Ultimately I got him to trade a stick for it, which apparently is a good deal.
Later in the afternoon, I was sitting on the porch minding my own business, reading Margaret Atwood's Alias Grace for one of my classes, when Sam trots by the porch, smells me, stops, sees me, and starts whining incessantly to be let in. Now, I've let Sam in the porch with me before, and it's only resulted in him trying to get into my lap, destroying a pair of old yard flip flops, or gnawing on pool noodles. I let him in the porch yesterday with me and he actually got a hold of a broken set of wind chimes and pranced around with a metal chime in his mouth. Clearly I was not letting him in the porch again, especially when I was trying to read and take notes.
When the begging didn't work, Sam started barking. That high-pitched, whiny bark he uses when he can see me but can't get to me. I tried to get him to go play with Dad, who was sitting on the swing in his shop, but no, Sam would not be deterred. So finally I got up, went outside, and went over to the shop swing with Sam in tow.
Mistake. Don't ever appear to have free time while you're outside with Dad. I was immediately put to work pruning tree limbs Dad complained would hit him when he was mowing. Dad cut the limbs down and I chopped them into the required 4' long pieces. Or rather, I chopped the ones I managed to claim, since Sam stole every new branch that fell down and frequently returned to make off with limbs I'd already cut and stacked in piles. No, my usual neat piles of evenly-cut limbs were an impossibility today. Not with The Artful Sammer on the loose.
Eventually we got all the limbs out to the road, and of course, Sam had to grab one and make another mad dash back into the yard. I went after him, but had nothing to trade with this time, since he was the one with the stick. I managed to fake him out by telling him to look for Nelly, then grabbing the stick and running like crazy back for the driveway while his back was turned. Dad ran interference for me and I made it safely to the road.
Afterward I was enjoying the last sips of my tea from Subway, when Sam snatched that out of my hand, straw and all, and ran off with it. Eventually the top came off and the ice spilled out, which distracted him enough for me to get the cup back. Unfortunately it was a bit late for me to save the tea, though. Sorry dog.
(Side note: a flock of six or seven Canada geese has taken up residence in the neighborhood lately, and I've been sorely tempted to let Sam offleash near them. Not so he could terrorize the birds, but so the birds could terrorize him. They wouldn't fly off, they'd gang up and peck him. And I think it's a life lesson Sam could use. Character-building, if you will.)
I don't have photographic evidence of any of this because it was drizzling throughout the entire afternoon, and I didn't want to get my camera wet. But I do have pictures of him once I let him in the kitchen afterward, soggy and thoroughly unrepentant.
Thief? I don't know what you're talking about. Completely innocent.
Oooh, what's that? Doesn't matter, it's mine now!
Hey! Give it back!
Oooh, what's that? Doesn't matter, it's mine now!
Hey! Give it back!Oh, Sam. What a goofball. A thieving, sneaky little goofball.
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Chocolate Flakes: They're Grrrreat!
Sam's still a walking endorsement for frosted flakes (or would it be chocolate flakes?), and I still haven't made it to the library. On the upside, I got my first paycheck from my new job: a whopping $13.40. And yes, $3.35 of that is going into savings, as sad as that little 25% is this time around.
As far as Sam goes, I took him outside and brushed him as thoroughly as I could today. He seems a little less itchy, but he's still got crazy dandruff. I'm keeping up with all his medications and I hope they start working soon, otherwise the dandruff might be from mites instead of allergies. I swear, this dog is trouble on the hoof.
Until I can get out to the library, here's an old video I uploaded a few weeks ago but forgot to post. I told you Sam's got two new tricks down: playing dead and taking a bow. He's improved on both since I shot this video (in it he gets the first couple of commands confused) and he's learning how to "talk" instead of just bark. But until I get that on film and uploaded, you're stuck with this little clip instead:
As far as Sam goes, I took him outside and brushed him as thoroughly as I could today. He seems a little less itchy, but he's still got crazy dandruff. I'm keeping up with all his medications and I hope they start working soon, otherwise the dandruff might be from mites instead of allergies. I swear, this dog is trouble on the hoof.
Until I can get out to the library, here's an old video I uploaded a few weeks ago but forgot to post. I told you Sam's got two new tricks down: playing dead and taking a bow. He's improved on both since I shot this video (in it he gets the first couple of commands confused) and he's learning how to "talk" instead of just bark. But until I get that on film and uploaded, you're stuck with this little clip instead:
Monday, August 23, 2010
Sam's New Shirt
I know I said I'd post this yesterday, but Sam's been having rash issues again and I didn't get a chance to run up to the library. (I have to go to the library to upload videos because our internet connection at home is too slow and always freezes mid-video.) So today I'm just uploading pictures since I still haven't been able to get to the library. I'll try for videos later this week.
As for Sam's rash, the redness isn't back, but he's still so itchy you can't even touch his back or sides without him twitching and scratching wildly. His skin has also gotten really flaky--it's like he has doggy dandruff. He's on a new medication now to help with allergies so hopefully his itching will improve soon. It's tough not to be able to pet your dog because doing so makes him uncomfortable.
Anyway, here's Sam in his new shirt from Orlando. The back says "Got treats?" which is a perfect slogan for Sam. "Treat" is one of his favorite words, along with "supper" and "bubbles."
Oh, and in case you're interested, Sam is currently wearing a 3-4XL, depending on the brand. We weighed him Saturday and he is now a hefty 77 pounds. And he isn't overweight--he doesn't have a belly and he's active. He's just big. His front legs are the same size as my forearms, and his paws are bigger than my palm.
A friend I spoke to on the phone today told me, "It looks like Sam has eaten a younger version of himself." Another friend saw the hug pictures and asked me if that was Sam; she hadn't seen him in a few months and couldn't believe it was the same dog. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it's the same dog I started out with in March 60 pounds ago. And no, he isn't done growing yet. He's got at least another 5 months of growth ahead of him, and likely another year or so before he fills out completely. All the more reason to keep up his training!
As for Sam's rash, the redness isn't back, but he's still so itchy you can't even touch his back or sides without him twitching and scratching wildly. His skin has also gotten really flaky--it's like he has doggy dandruff. He's on a new medication now to help with allergies so hopefully his itching will improve soon. It's tough not to be able to pet your dog because doing so makes him uncomfortable.
Anyway, here's Sam in his new shirt from Orlando. The back says "Got treats?" which is a perfect slogan for Sam. "Treat" is one of his favorite words, along with "supper" and "bubbles."
Got treats? No, seriously, if you have treats, I need them. Medical condition.
Argh what are you doing to me??
As you can see, getting the shirt on Sam was a chore. He's only ever worn bandannas before (and a couple silly hats), so a shirt was a new experience. He didn't seem to mind it once it was on, but he was instantly preoccupied with trying to bite the edges of the shirt he could reach, and ended up tearing one of the seams. I've got a video of him grabbing his sleeve and trying to walk with it in his mouth; that'll go up later in the week.
Argh what are you doing to me??
Bite bite bite
A new record for destroying things I buy him
Oh, and in case you're interested, Sam is currently wearing a 3-4XL, depending on the brand. We weighed him Saturday and he is now a hefty 77 pounds. And he isn't overweight--he doesn't have a belly and he's active. He's just big. His front legs are the same size as my forearms, and his paws are bigger than my palm.
A friend I spoke to on the phone today told me, "It looks like Sam has eaten a younger version of himself." Another friend saw the hug pictures and asked me if that was Sam; she hadn't seen him in a few months and couldn't believe it was the same dog. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, it's the same dog I started out with in March 60 pounds ago. And no, he isn't done growing yet. He's got at least another 5 months of growth ahead of him, and likely another year or so before he fills out completely. All the more reason to keep up his training!
Friday, August 20, 2010
Homecoming
I'm back from Orlando! We had a great time with our Texas family, and I didn't miss Sam too badly. I staved off any wistful feelings by buying Sam-related things--a Disney dog photo frame, another photo frame with Sam's name on it, and a black doggie T-shirt that says "Got treats?" on it. I'll post those pictures tomorrow.
When I came home, Sam ran up and gave me a hug! When he jumps up, he doesn't put too much weight on his front paws; instead of completely leaning on you, he just uses you to steady himself and holds most of his weight himself on his back legs. So he ran up and jumped on me, his front paws on my waist, and I got to hug him and he licked my face and it was great! He's just so darn cute when he's not destroying things.
It's good to be home, though. According to Dad, Sam didn't cause any mischief during my absence, which is great. Now if only I could get him to not cause any mischief all the rest of the time...
When I came home, Sam ran up and gave me a hug! When he jumps up, he doesn't put too much weight on his front paws; instead of completely leaning on you, he just uses you to steady himself and holds most of his weight himself on his back legs. So he ran up and jumped on me, his front paws on my waist, and I got to hug him and he licked my face and it was great! He's just so darn cute when he's not destroying things.
Hello my Sam!
Hugs
I swear, though, being away for two days has made me notice how big he is. I got a lost pet alert email in my inbox (I signed up for them when I registered Sam's microchip) for a male chocolate Lab, 11 months old, 65 pounds. Sam's barely 7 months old and he weighs 75! The older he gets, the more I think I should have named him Bear or Ox or some other large animal. Elephant. Hippo. Or, given his chewing and swimming habits, The Great Chocolate Shark.
Hugs
Paw/hand size comparison
It's good to be home, though. According to Dad, Sam didn't cause any mischief during my absence, which is great. Now if only I could get him to not cause any mischief all the rest of the time...
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Separation Anxiety
Tomorrow I leave for a three-day stint of theme parks in Orlando with the family visiting from Texas. Don't get me wrong, I'm excited to go--especially since I'll get to visit the new Harry Potter world--but this will be the first time I've been away from Sam overnight.
You know, in a lot of separation anxiety cases, the owner's just as anxious as the dog, and I'm definitely guilty of this. Sam usually handles my absence well if he can't see where I've gone, and he only makes trouble left on his own if he's shut out of the garage. Leave the garage cracked for him, and he's fine. Close it, and he starts digging holes like a 75-pound gopher.
The only time he's shown any anxiety at my absence is when he knows where I've gone and can't reach me. If he's left in the kitchen while I go in my room or out to the pool, he whines and barks like crazy. If he's left in the yard while I walk around the neighborhood, I can hear his pitiful crying all the way to the next street. But if I sneak away without his notice, he's fine.
I think Sam should be okay over the next couple of days. He'll have Dad with him to distract him, after all. Honestly, between the two of us, I have the feeling that I'll be the one dealing with separation anxiety, not him.As a final hurrah before my mini-vacation, I took Sam on another car ride today, this time to the bank and the pharmacy drive-thrus. As usual, Sam had a great time.
I won't have my laptop with me to blog until I get back in town Friday afternoon, so goodbye until then!
You know, in a lot of separation anxiety cases, the owner's just as anxious as the dog, and I'm definitely guilty of this. Sam usually handles my absence well if he can't see where I've gone, and he only makes trouble left on his own if he's shut out of the garage. Leave the garage cracked for him, and he's fine. Close it, and he starts digging holes like a 75-pound gopher.
The only time he's shown any anxiety at my absence is when he knows where I've gone and can't reach me. If he's left in the kitchen while I go in my room or out to the pool, he whines and barks like crazy. If he's left in the yard while I walk around the neighborhood, I can hear his pitiful crying all the way to the next street. But if I sneak away without his notice, he's fine.
I think Sam should be okay over the next couple of days. He'll have Dad with him to distract him, after all. Honestly, between the two of us, I have the feeling that I'll be the one dealing with separation anxiety, not him.As a final hurrah before my mini-vacation, I took Sam on another car ride today, this time to the bank and the pharmacy drive-thrus. As usual, Sam had a great time.
Let's go!
Weeeee!
Flappy ears
This is the life
What's that over there?
I call shotgun!
Weeeee!
Flappy ears
This is the life
What's that over there?
I call shotgun!I won't have my laptop with me to blog until I get back in town Friday afternoon, so goodbye until then!
Monday, August 16, 2010
Weigh-In!
First off, the Ocala trip ended up not happening, but I took Sam on a car ride anyway. You can't just promise that dog a car ride and then not deliver; he'd take it personally.
This morning Sam had his follow-up visit to the vet's for his rash, and of course, he peed on her again. It's becoming a tradition for him. His rash is all cleared up though, so that's good news. And his current weight: 74 pounds!
Any bets on his one-year weight, post in the comments!
This morning Sam had his follow-up visit to the vet's for his rash, and of course, he peed on her again. It's becoming a tradition for him. His rash is all cleared up though, so that's good news. And his current weight: 74 pounds!
Any bets on his one-year weight, post in the comments!
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Bath Time
Tomorrow Sam is going on a big trip to Ocala with me to visit my grandparents and some family from Texas. Out of consideration for my grandmother's floors, I decided I'd best give the ever-dirty Sam a bath.
It didn't start out well. Before I could even turn the hose on Sam made off with the shampoo bottle and chewed the cap off. He only dropped it once he started licking up the leaking shampoo and his mouth foamed up.
Eventually, after much gentle and not-so-gentle coaxing, I managed to scrub Sam down. He made several escape attempts, but I still managed to get him clean. Now, there's no guarantee that he'll still be clean by the time we reach Ocala tomorrow, but I just wanted to put this out there so Grandma and Pop-pop know I did try.
Below is a video of the last half of Sam's bath, complete with a thwarted escape attempt and a fairly good workout for me trying to get him back to the hose.
It didn't start out well. Before I could even turn the hose on Sam made off with the shampoo bottle and chewed the cap off. He only dropped it once he started licking up the leaking shampoo and his mouth foamed up.
She can't give me a bath without the shampoo!
The broken bottle
You'd think Sam wouldn't have a problem with baths. He loves water. He's in the pool every day. He plays with the pressure washer and the sprinklers. He dives underwater for goodness' sake. But no, turn on a normal hose, and he's out of there.
The broken bottle
Applying the shampoo
Scrub-scrub-scrub
Scrub-scrub-scrubEventually, after much gentle and not-so-gentle coaxing, I managed to scrub Sam down. He made several escape attempts, but I still managed to get him clean. Now, there's no guarantee that he'll still be clean by the time we reach Ocala tomorrow, but I just wanted to put this out there so Grandma and Pop-pop know I did try.
Oh this is humiliating
Don't look at me in my shame!
Don't look at me in my shame!Below is a video of the last half of Sam's bath, complete with a thwarted escape attempt and a fairly good workout for me trying to get him back to the hose.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Poll Results
The votes are in! The people have spoken: Sam, sorry my love, but you're officially a dumbass.
Maybe badass would have won had the metal-and-glass chewing incidents been all I told you about. But you all have seen the failed agility run, the loogie-face, the various thieving, and the cobwebs. You've watched him try to talk to a stove exhaust pipe and spend ten minutes pawing at light on the carpet. There really was no way "badass" was going to win this one.
Dumbass? I dunno what you're talking about
But that's why I love him, after all--I didn't set out to have a dog that could frighten small children or beat Chuck Norris in a fight. I wanted a big, goofy boy, just like my old dog Bud, and that's exactly what I got.
The first day I brought Sam home, I took him to the backyard where Bud and Thor are buried and asked my boys to look out for Sam and show him the ropes. And I believe they did. I can see Bud in Sam so much--in his face, the way he plays and wrestles with me, the way he drools, the way he goes through his entire repertoire of tricks in the hopes that one of them will snag him a treat. And I see Thor in him too--when he's sleepy and sweet; when he sits on your feet; when he sits in front of children and lowers his head and wags his tail and lets them pet him all they like without mouthing or jumping on them. And of course, Sam is his own dog, too: the way he never rushes the gate, but sits quietly until you park your car and get out; the way he "talks" and is so vocal; how quickly he's picked up swimming, and how fearless and bold he is; how friendly he is to other dogs; and of course, how quickly he picks up new tricks and how easy he is to train.
Sam isn't a replacement for my lost boys; he is an addition, the third musketeer, the final piece of the yellow-black-chocolate Labrador puzzle. And given the company he's joining, it's expected that he be a dumbass at heart. A big, goofy, lovable dumbass.
Maybe badass would have won had the metal-and-glass chewing incidents been all I told you about. But you all have seen the failed agility run, the loogie-face, the various thieving, and the cobwebs. You've watched him try to talk to a stove exhaust pipe and spend ten minutes pawing at light on the carpet. There really was no way "badass" was going to win this one.
Dumbass? I dunno what you're talking aboutBut that's why I love him, after all--I didn't set out to have a dog that could frighten small children or beat Chuck Norris in a fight. I wanted a big, goofy boy, just like my old dog Bud, and that's exactly what I got.
The first day I brought Sam home, I took him to the backyard where Bud and Thor are buried and asked my boys to look out for Sam and show him the ropes. And I believe they did. I can see Bud in Sam so much--in his face, the way he plays and wrestles with me, the way he drools, the way he goes through his entire repertoire of tricks in the hopes that one of them will snag him a treat. And I see Thor in him too--when he's sleepy and sweet; when he sits on your feet; when he sits in front of children and lowers his head and wags his tail and lets them pet him all they like without mouthing or jumping on them. And of course, Sam is his own dog, too: the way he never rushes the gate, but sits quietly until you park your car and get out; the way he "talks" and is so vocal; how quickly he's picked up swimming, and how fearless and bold he is; how friendly he is to other dogs; and of course, how quickly he picks up new tricks and how easy he is to train.
Sam isn't a replacement for my lost boys; he is an addition, the third musketeer, the final piece of the yellow-black-chocolate Labrador puzzle. And given the company he's joining, it's expected that he be a dumbass at heart. A big, goofy, lovable dumbass.
Bubble Gun!
As you've probably figured out by now, Sam LOVES bubbles. He goes nuts for them. Jumps after them like a Seaworld dolphin after a fish. We just can't blow the bubbles fast enough for his liking.
Solution? Bubble gun.
I picked up a simple $2.99 bubble gun from Walgreens yesterday. All you do is attach a bubble bottle to the bottom, then push down on a lever a couple of times to get the bubbles flowing. There were so many bubbles Sam didn't know what to do with himself. He's used to stalking one or two bubbles at a time, but now they were coming at him in flocks! What's a dogger to do?
Solution? Bubble gun.
I picked up a simple $2.99 bubble gun from Walgreens yesterday. All you do is attach a bubble bottle to the bottom, then push down on a lever a couple of times to get the bubbles flowing. There were so many bubbles Sam didn't know what to do with himself. He's used to stalking one or two bubbles at a time, but now they were coming at him in flocks! What's a dogger to do?
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Tomorrow, Tomorrow...
I know, I know. I haven't posted in a couple days. I've been busy. I've been sick. I've been shampooing my hair. My dog ate my homework. My homework ate my dog. My car broke down. Take your pick. Whichever excuse strikes your fancy.
Don't worry, though. Sam's still been living the life. Last night he cuddled with me in the living room recliner for awhile until he wanted to play and then we wrestled for a bit on the floor. We've been playing in the pool with his big green ball and of course working on our fetching skills. And today Sam got a car ride to Blockbuster and the library with me, so he's been doing fine.
I will have some material for you tomorrow, never fear. Sam's got new tricks to show off. And I've got a new automatic bubble gun to test out.
See you tomorrow!
Don't worry, though. Sam's still been living the life. Last night he cuddled with me in the living room recliner for awhile until he wanted to play and then we wrestled for a bit on the floor. We've been playing in the pool with his big green ball and of course working on our fetching skills. And today Sam got a car ride to Blockbuster and the library with me, so he's been doing fine.
I will have some material for you tomorrow, never fear. Sam's got new tricks to show off. And I've got a new automatic bubble gun to test out.
See you tomorrow!
Monday, August 9, 2010
Spiderdog, Spiderdog, Does Whatever a Spiderdog Does
Dad: "Brandy, come check on your dog."
Me: "Why, what'd he do?"
Dad: "Just come and see."
Me: "What is it? What did he get into?"
Dad: "Trust me, when you see him, all will become clear to you."
Me: "Where is he?"
Dad: "In the garage. I'm not letting him in my house."
I opened the door to the garage, looked down, exclaimed, "Oh hell no!" and shut the door again to Dad's gleeful cackling.
This is what greeted me:
Sam, the spider-hunter. I guess covering your face in cobwebs is a camouflage technique?
Despite my EXTREME aversion to spiders, I dutifully grabbed some paper towels and wiped off his face. But seriously, what a knucklehead.
Me: "Why, what'd he do?"
Dad: "Just come and see."
Me: "What is it? What did he get into?"
Dad: "Trust me, when you see him, all will become clear to you."
Me: "Where is he?"
Dad: "In the garage. I'm not letting him in my house."
I opened the door to the garage, looked down, exclaimed, "Oh hell no!" and shut the door again to Dad's gleeful cackling.
This is what greeted me:
Sam, the spider-hunter. I guess covering your face in cobwebs is a camouflage technique?Despite my EXTREME aversion to spiders, I dutifully grabbed some paper towels and wiped off his face. But seriously, what a knucklehead.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Glasses Thief
Sam and I spent most of this morning and early afternoon outside by the pool, with me trying to read and Sam playing with his big green ball, rolling it into the pool, jumping on it, swimming around, and generally being a goofball. Eventually he began bringing me his rope toy, which I would throw for him while I read and he'd run off and bring back when he wanted it thrown again.
I tried sinking the rope toy in an attempt to encourage more diving, but Sam just swam in circles and whined, then gave up and went for the polaris cord instead.
Everything was going well until I went to cool off on the pool steps, at which point Sam's thieving nature kicked into high gear. He trotted over to the side table by my pool chair, sniffing at the buffet laid out before him: iPod, book, crossword puzzle, pencil, hair band...? What to take, what to take? Very delicately, he selected his prize: my glasses. And as I realized what he had and yelled at him, he shot off across the yard with them like a rocket.
Visions of Mom's prescription sunglasses flashed through my mind. Sam had got a hold of those a few weeks ago and completely destroyed them. I currently don't have a spare pair of glasses, so if Sam ate mine, I'd be blind for a week until I could get new ones. So I ran off after him, yelling and trying to distract him by pointing out imaginary things over his shoulder.
I know the worst thing to do when a dog has something you want is to chase him, so I started running in the opposite direction and Sam followed. However, as I whipped around to tackle him, he darted to the side and shot off again. That failed, I turned on my "mean" voice, yelling "Bad dog!" and "Leave it!" as deeply and angrily as I could. That worked. Sam dropped my glasses and sat down, penitent. I picked them up, told him he was a bad dog once more for effect, and went inside to assess the damage.
Luckily my glasses only sustained some serious droolage, with no lasting harm. I cleaned them and went back outside, where Sam was waiting for me by the screen door. I told him he was a nut and we made up, Sam prancing happily over to my pool chair and lying down with me on it to bask in the sun.
I tried sinking the rope toy in an attempt to encourage more diving, but Sam just swam in circles and whined, then gave up and went for the polaris cord instead.
Everything was going well until I went to cool off on the pool steps, at which point Sam's thieving nature kicked into high gear. He trotted over to the side table by my pool chair, sniffing at the buffet laid out before him: iPod, book, crossword puzzle, pencil, hair band...? What to take, what to take? Very delicately, he selected his prize: my glasses. And as I realized what he had and yelled at him, he shot off across the yard with them like a rocket.
Visions of Mom's prescription sunglasses flashed through my mind. Sam had got a hold of those a few weeks ago and completely destroyed them. I currently don't have a spare pair of glasses, so if Sam ate mine, I'd be blind for a week until I could get new ones. So I ran off after him, yelling and trying to distract him by pointing out imaginary things over his shoulder.
We found bits of Mom's sunglasses scattered all over the kitchen
I know the worst thing to do when a dog has something you want is to chase him, so I started running in the opposite direction and Sam followed. However, as I whipped around to tackle him, he darted to the side and shot off again. That failed, I turned on my "mean" voice, yelling "Bad dog!" and "Leave it!" as deeply and angrily as I could. That worked. Sam dropped my glasses and sat down, penitent. I picked them up, told him he was a bad dog once more for effect, and went inside to assess the damage.
Luckily my glasses only sustained some serious droolage, with no lasting harm. I cleaned them and went back outside, where Sam was waiting for me by the screen door. I told him he was a nut and we made up, Sam prancing happily over to my pool chair and lying down with me on it to bask in the sun.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Comparison
This is a photo of Sam in my lap at 2 months old. He weighed 16 pounds.
Five months and almost 60 pounds later, this is a photo of Sam in my lap from last night.
Either I'm shrinking or Sam's going to have to find a bigger lap.
Sam at 2 months
Five months and almost 60 pounds later, this is a photo of Sam in my lap from last night.
Sam at 7 months
Either I'm shrinking or Sam's going to have to find a bigger lap.
Friday, August 6, 2010
Miscellany
A couple things:
1 - The badass/dumbass voting is ongoing. You will be able to vote until the end of the week. So far dumbass is narrowly winning, 3 votes to 2. So if you haven't voted yet, do so! Sam's reputation is on the line.
2 - I like getting reader feedback, so I've decided to hold a contest! The deadline isn't for a few months, so you have time to prepare.
Here are the contest rules! You must guess what Sam's weight will be on his first birthday, January 9, 2011. Guesses are due no later than Thanksgiving day (I will remind you as we near the deadline). If you want to guess now, and later want to change your guess, you can do so as many times as you like up until Thanksgiving. The winner will be the person who guesses the closest to his weight--and it isn't Price Is Right style, so feel free to guess high. The winner will get a special prize that I have yet to decide--an autographed (autopawed) photo of Sam? A doggy gift basket? A visit from the nutcase himself? You'll have to see!
To vote, leave a comment with your guess. And if you're posting as anonymous, leave your initials or some sort of nickname so I can differentiate you in my guess records.
To help you with your guesses, I will be continuing the somewhat sporadic Thursday weigh-ins, and you will get a final weight at the start of Thanksgiving week. I will also continue posting pictures of him so you can get an idea of his size. Finally, I leave you this information: Sam's mother was 98 lbs and his father was 120 lbs. Happy guessing!
3 - Sam's rash is clearing up quite well. The medication he's on is really helping. He's still losing hair, but it's only noticeable based on the newly dog-hair-carpeted kitchen floor; he doesn't have any bald spots. He seems to be less itchy, too.
4 - Sam did his first solo dive today! I showed you before how he dunks his head underwater for his toys when he's on the pool step, but today he went underwater in the shallow end after his rope toy without any urging from me. He only stayed under five seconds or so, and he only swam down halfway, but he did great! He held his breath, found his toy, and although he didn't reach it, he continued diving underwater and swimming in circles until I got in and picked it up from the bottom for him. I was cheering so loud for him the neighbors were staring at me like I was nuts. They were probably just jealous.
5 - Sam has learned some new tricks! He's learned to take a bow and to play dead. As for the putting his toys away trick, I've decided to hold off on that one until he can differentiate between training time and play time a little better; the addition of toys to training time seems to be confusing for him. Sam's also learning to talk on cue; he talks naturally all the time, so I decided to mark the behavior and get him to talk when I wanted him to rather than when he wants to--usually when someone other than him is eating, or when he's locked in the kitchen and we're ignoring him in the living room. I will post a video of him performing his new tricks next week.
6 - This is a pretty long post with no pictures, huh? Usually I'm much better about pictures. Let's see what I can scrounge up to mollify you.... how about the many faces of Samwise?
Cute Sam
Happy Sam
Uncertain Sam
Sleepy Sam
Ferocious Sam
Crazy Sam
Smug Sam
Mildly Impressed Sam
1 - The badass/dumbass voting is ongoing. You will be able to vote until the end of the week. So far dumbass is narrowly winning, 3 votes to 2. So if you haven't voted yet, do so! Sam's reputation is on the line.
2 - I like getting reader feedback, so I've decided to hold a contest! The deadline isn't for a few months, so you have time to prepare.
Here are the contest rules! You must guess what Sam's weight will be on his first birthday, January 9, 2011. Guesses are due no later than Thanksgiving day (I will remind you as we near the deadline). If you want to guess now, and later want to change your guess, you can do so as many times as you like up until Thanksgiving. The winner will be the person who guesses the closest to his weight--and it isn't Price Is Right style, so feel free to guess high. The winner will get a special prize that I have yet to decide--an autographed (autopawed) photo of Sam? A doggy gift basket? A visit from the nutcase himself? You'll have to see!
To vote, leave a comment with your guess. And if you're posting as anonymous, leave your initials or some sort of nickname so I can differentiate you in my guess records.
To help you with your guesses, I will be continuing the somewhat sporadic Thursday weigh-ins, and you will get a final weight at the start of Thanksgiving week. I will also continue posting pictures of him so you can get an idea of his size. Finally, I leave you this information: Sam's mother was 98 lbs and his father was 120 lbs. Happy guessing!
3 - Sam's rash is clearing up quite well. The medication he's on is really helping. He's still losing hair, but it's only noticeable based on the newly dog-hair-carpeted kitchen floor; he doesn't have any bald spots. He seems to be less itchy, too.
4 - Sam did his first solo dive today! I showed you before how he dunks his head underwater for his toys when he's on the pool step, but today he went underwater in the shallow end after his rope toy without any urging from me. He only stayed under five seconds or so, and he only swam down halfway, but he did great! He held his breath, found his toy, and although he didn't reach it, he continued diving underwater and swimming in circles until I got in and picked it up from the bottom for him. I was cheering so loud for him the neighbors were staring at me like I was nuts. They were probably just jealous.
5 - Sam has learned some new tricks! He's learned to take a bow and to play dead. As for the putting his toys away trick, I've decided to hold off on that one until he can differentiate between training time and play time a little better; the addition of toys to training time seems to be confusing for him. Sam's also learning to talk on cue; he talks naturally all the time, so I decided to mark the behavior and get him to talk when I wanted him to rather than when he wants to--usually when someone other than him is eating, or when he's locked in the kitchen and we're ignoring him in the living room. I will post a video of him performing his new tricks next week.
6 - This is a pretty long post with no pictures, huh? Usually I'm much better about pictures. Let's see what I can scrounge up to mollify you.... how about the many faces of Samwise?
Cute Sam
Happy Sam
Uncertain Sam
Sleepy Sam
Ferocious Sam
Crazy Sam
Smug Sam
Mildly Impressed SamWednesday, August 4, 2010
Cast Your Vote
A couple things.
First of all, the medication Sam's on to clear up his rash has turned him into a champion pee-er. The vet said he might drink and urinate more often from the medicine, but I wasn't expecting marathon potty breaks. Last night I took Sam out before bed and he peed for a good 45 seconds, before moving to a different spot and peeing for 30 seconds more. Today he's been peeing in similarly long bursts, to the point where it's making him late to places. When I came home today, for instance, he tried to come up to the car as usual, but had to stop three different times for potty breaks, which caused him to miss his opportunity. He shot me quite a baleful look as I drove past him up the driveway.
The other thing I wanted to mention is the latest in Sam's recycling crusade. He fished out an empty soup can I used for dinner tonight and crushed and pierced the metal. This is not the first time he's mangled metal. He's also fond of chewing on the bolts of the porch swing and the carport. Additionally, he's gotten glass beer bottles out of the recycle bin in the past and chewed on them until his teeth bled (this was during his teething phase, but it still seems a bit extreme).
So what does this tendency to chew on metal and glass imply? I can't figure it out. Is Sam a badass or a dumbass? You tell me!
Vote in the poll on the left and let me know! I'll post results if enough people vote. And don't worry about offending anyone if you want to pick "dumbass." I'm leaning toward that option, myself.
First of all, the medication Sam's on to clear up his rash has turned him into a champion pee-er. The vet said he might drink and urinate more often from the medicine, but I wasn't expecting marathon potty breaks. Last night I took Sam out before bed and he peed for a good 45 seconds, before moving to a different spot and peeing for 30 seconds more. Today he's been peeing in similarly long bursts, to the point where it's making him late to places. When I came home today, for instance, he tried to come up to the car as usual, but had to stop three different times for potty breaks, which caused him to miss his opportunity. He shot me quite a baleful look as I drove past him up the driveway.
The other thing I wanted to mention is the latest in Sam's recycling crusade. He fished out an empty soup can I used for dinner tonight and crushed and pierced the metal. This is not the first time he's mangled metal. He's also fond of chewing on the bolts of the porch swing and the carport. Additionally, he's gotten glass beer bottles out of the recycle bin in the past and chewed on them until his teeth bled (this was during his teething phase, but it still seems a bit extreme).
Sam is serious about recycling
So what does this tendency to chew on metal and glass imply? I can't figure it out. Is Sam a badass or a dumbass? You tell me!
Vote in the poll on the left and let me know! I'll post results if enough people vote. And don't worry about offending anyone if you want to pick "dumbass." I'm leaning toward that option, myself.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
It's Definitely August
The trip to see the fiddler crabs has been postponed, partly because Sam's rash is still bothering him, partly because I have no clean clothes left and have been doing laundry all day, and mostly because the thermometer is reading 101 in the shade, and I think Sam and I would both pass out if we attempted a day trip.
Instead, I leave you this snippet of Sam "talking" to me at the kitchen table. Hopefully the weather will cool down a bit (and by "cool" I mean stay in the 90s) and Sam and I will be able to see the fiddler crabs later this week.
Instead, I leave you this snippet of Sam "talking" to me at the kitchen table. Hopefully the weather will cool down a bit (and by "cool" I mean stay in the 90s) and Sam and I will be able to see the fiddler crabs later this week.
Monday, August 2, 2010
A Message from Sam
Hi everyone. Sam here.
Whoever decided the best way to start a Monday morning is with a visit to the vet (ahem BRAN) is nuts. I hope all your Mondays started out better than mine did.
Anyway I've had this rash since Friday and Bran realized yesterday that my fur was falling out around it so she took me to the vet this morning. I think it was a bit drastic to bring the vet into this. I mean really the only reason I should need to go back to the vet would be if I lost a leg or was dying or something, not some silly rash. I think Bran was just sick of vacuuming the kitchen floor twice in a weekend and so she decided there must be some medical reason behind my shedding.
When we got to the vet's office I peed on her which is what I normally do in an attempt to convince her not to hurt me but she always does. She scraped my neck with this razor thingy and then scraped my leg too, as if one scraping wasn't enough. She told Bran I didn't have mites which I could have told you that but no one asks me now, do they?
Anyway the vet says my rash is a reaction from getting bitten by something like a spider or some ants. But I'm an extreme adventurer so I don't think something as wussy as a spider would do this. I'm pretty sure if I got bitten by something it was probably like a mountain lion or a tiger or a bear or something big enough to cause a rash. Not just any old animal can hurt me, you know. It had to be something ferocious.
The only good part about going to the vet besides the car rides and sticking my head out the window is the pills I get to take afterward. I lucked out this time because Bran got two sets of pills to give me for the next two weeks, which is great. I love taking pills and any dog that doesn't like pills isn't seeing the big picture. What do humans always do after they give you a pill? They give you a treat! Two sets of pills twice a day means four extra treats per day. And all I had to do was get a rash! I highly recommend rashes if your treat ration is less than adequate. Just sayin'.
Anyway I'm going to spend the day convalescing which means playing with my bear and sleeping and probably eating some more treats. Bran said something about going to see some fiddle crabs or something tomorrow, so she'll probably let you know how that goes. I dunno what a fiddle crab is but I'ma catch one.
Sam
Whoever decided the best way to start a Monday morning is with a visit to the vet (ahem BRAN) is nuts. I hope all your Mondays started out better than mine did.
Anyway I've had this rash since Friday and Bran realized yesterday that my fur was falling out around it so she took me to the vet this morning. I think it was a bit drastic to bring the vet into this. I mean really the only reason I should need to go back to the vet would be if I lost a leg or was dying or something, not some silly rash. I think Bran was just sick of vacuuming the kitchen floor twice in a weekend and so she decided there must be some medical reason behind my shedding.
Some of the rash on my leg
When we got to the vet's office I peed on her which is what I normally do in an attempt to convince her not to hurt me but she always does. She scraped my neck with this razor thingy and then scraped my leg too, as if one scraping wasn't enough. She told Bran I didn't have mites which I could have told you that but no one asks me now, do they?
Anyway the vet says my rash is a reaction from getting bitten by something like a spider or some ants. But I'm an extreme adventurer so I don't think something as wussy as a spider would do this. I'm pretty sure if I got bitten by something it was probably like a mountain lion or a tiger or a bear or something big enough to cause a rash. Not just any old animal can hurt me, you know. It had to be something ferocious.
The only good part about going to the vet besides the car rides and sticking my head out the window is the pills I get to take afterward. I lucked out this time because Bran got two sets of pills to give me for the next two weeks, which is great. I love taking pills and any dog that doesn't like pills isn't seeing the big picture. What do humans always do after they give you a pill? They give you a treat! Two sets of pills twice a day means four extra treats per day. And all I had to do was get a rash! I highly recommend rashes if your treat ration is less than adequate. Just sayin'.
Anyway I'm going to spend the day convalescing which means playing with my bear and sleeping and probably eating some more treats. Bran said something about going to see some fiddle crabs or something tomorrow, so she'll probably let you know how that goes. I dunno what a fiddle crab is but I'ma catch one.
Sam
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