Happy New Year!

Happy New Year from my mistress, The Tim, and Beth Anne!

And most importantly, of course.....from me, Zoe and all the rest of our brood!

Merry Christmas to The Tim

The Mistress worked on a very special gift to commemorate The Tim's grand achievement in October when he completed the 32nd Annual Marine Corp Marathon in Washington, D.C.

We dogs assisted her by unsuccessfully staying out of the way!

Bad Santa

All I wanted for Christmas was some treats.....and this bird!

(Got neither.)

Reilly almost got it during Thanksgiving, but it is still hanging around!

Also, the bird cages in the solarium are multiplying

at an alarming rate! Yikes!

It's A Wonderful Life

Don't send a lame Holiday eCard. Try JibJab Sendables!

Framed!

The framing studio is madness at the moment! Moulding and mats everywhere... not to mention Reilly impersonating a rug!

Inevitably this causes The Mistress to fuss at us for being in the way.

I prefer to cuddle up with a blanket in the TV room.

Thanksgiving Review

They finally came and got me from "camp/jail" on the Sunday AFTER Thanksgiving. I thought I was coming home on Friday, but NOOOOOO! Seems there was much excitement which occurred during the week and somehow, somebody made the executive decision to leave me there during all the commotion. I forgave The Mistress because she saved me some turkey and gravy. Yum!

The "fleabag" got sick one day, then the next day, Reilly tried to take out one of the birds. Yea for Reilly.....he really does have a brain! Both survived, much to my chagrin. (It would have been a different story had I been there.) And of course, what's a holiday without a tour of the emergency room?

Other news...

Georgia (Go Dawgs!) and VT (Go Hokies!) both won their games that weekend!

The Mistress is trying to gear up for the up and coming week of "The Christmas Decorating Extravaganza". One of those Wine-Dinner events is going to be in my house a week from Saturday and The Mistress is getting all Martha Stewart-ish. The Tim will be on vacation next week......little does he know what she has in store for him!

Supposedly in the spirit of Christmas (I call it "in the spirit of making people look stupid") The Mistress has produced this little number:

http://www.elfyourself.com/?id=1191167871

Thank Lassie she didn't put me in there!

Up For Adoption

One Fleabag! I mean, one Jack-A-Bee.

Approximately 12 weeks old.

Crate and worms included at no extra charge!

Just get it old of my condo!

Interested parties should contact me via this site ASAP!

Happy Thanksgiving?

Rumor has it that I am going to the kennel this afternoon! That Fleabag (see picture) is coming to my house with Beth Anne today, along with the stupid bird! They think I won't get along with the fleabag (which I won't).

While I think it was commendable for Beth Anne to rescue the wretched mongrel off the streets of Athens and take her to the vet (which I heard she is full of nasty things....worms and such), I see no good reason to bring her here? Has she lost her mind?

She is her mother's daughter after all....always rescuing animals. The four-legged, as well as the two-legged variety. The Tim (two-legged) has been busy making predictions as to the possible outcome of this visit.

I was to go to the kennel on Wednesday anyway, because John and Keith are staying here for the huge Thanksgiving Gut Slam. The Mistress thought my not being here would eliminate some stress, but what about my stress? Who wants to spend Thanksgiving (whatever that is) in the kennel and go a day earlier than planned?

The Mistress calls it "camp" and the Tim calls it "jail".

Sure, Angela is nice enough and I like her. I even get to take my crate with my smelly old Tim blanket but it's not the same as being at home........Maybe the Mistress will feel guilty enough to make me a "stash bag" of turkey (like Uncle Austin, who has tasty fingers) to enjoy when I come home on Saturday!

No, No, Not Another One!

I overheard my Mistress talking with Beth Anne about a Beagle of all things! It appears she found this puppy that had been dumped by some cruel and irresponsible humans. Stupid humans.

Beth Anne is calling this dog "Molly" and thinks she is keeping her! What is she thinking!? I'm her dog!

The Tim is convinced The Mistress will end up with this animal, as she has with all the rest. Not to worry! I'll take care of it. I am the boss dog of the house and I'm laying down the law now.

There will be no more dogs in this house.

One more thing...I heard them talking about trading MY crate for this other dog's crate because it is too big! Too bad! I don't want some other dog's stinking crate. I have mine just the way I want it, with a chewed up cushion and the Tim's fleece blanket. "Molly" has already stunk up my condo in Athens. (Proof: see picture confiscated off Facebook) How can I return there now? It smells of Beagle! I am not happy about this at all. The Chinese herbs are not working!

Backgammon Blues

The Mistress kicked The Tim's butt three nights ago in a formidable display of strategy and skill only to succumb to his shameful tactics of taking advantage of her lower back pain and lack of concentration the last two nights.

Although, he claims that his wins are a result of "skillful dice rolling", we know that I'd be rolling in that BS if I could (I like rolling in smelly stuff).

Don't let the picture fool you. I am not a Turn Coat. I am my Mistress' dog. As I stated before, she was suffering from lower back pain and her lap was not an option. I had to resort to the next best thing. It also boosts his self-esteem.

Random Monday

The Mistress is lamenting the fact that it is once again Monday. I am seen here assisting her with bill paying, balancing the checkbooks, making the household budget, and other stuff she doesn't enjoy much.

Yesterday was the only day that she and The Tim have been able to spend together since returning from their trip to D.C.

Although, they enjoyed their time going to church (I got to stay in the crate), having a rare dinner together (no leftovers for me), and playing backgammon (while we dogs just layed about), the day passed too quickly.

Tim also worked in the yard and fiddled with all the clocks in the house. That may explain why we dogs have been signaling The Mistress at 4 p.m. that it is time to eat.

She said The Tim did good!

I went to the kennel again (this is getting very annoying), while The Tim and my Mistress went to Washington D.C. I have not been to D.C. since being banished from John and Keith's house for peeing on the floor. They have no sense of humor.

My mistress said that The Tim ran a marathon, which is a long, long distance. I bet I can run faster and further, if I had opposable thumbs and could open the gate.

They came to get me on Monday and didn't even bring me a treat....just some kind of medal, which wasn't edible. Stupid humans.

Just dumb........

Beth Anne came in from that place called Georgia on the 5th and she brought another worthless bird with her.

She calls it Peaches.

Look at Mocha. What a dummy! Does she not know she has a tasty treat riding around on her back?

I wish they would have let me in the house.

I had to watch this atrocity through the window, while free food roamed the house and rode on the back of the biggest dummy (besides the Tim) in the pack.

The Evidence

The Tim is training for a marathon. He runs all the time and therefore he eats all the time. The Mom is always cooking, which is good for us canines. We get the scraps and the benefit of whatever hits the floor.

There were some overly ripe bananas and usually we get to eat them, but she decided to make Tim banana bread. She said it was her best ever.

This is what was left of it..........I'm not saying who took it off the counter. I'm not even going to say if it was good or not. She thinks it was Reilly.

Everything is blah.........

Beth Anne went to school August 9th.

The Mom didn't even take me to Georgia with her.

It had something to do with renting a room in the condo to Beth Anne's friend and me biting her.

Would I do that?

I had to go the the kennel. Yuck!

Everybody misses Beth Anne. Mocha misses her. Reilly misses her. I miss her. I think that even Sugar misses her, in her own little demented way.

The Mom and Tim especially miss her. The house just isn't the same. There are no banging doors and running up and down the stairs. The phones don't ring as much.

She is fun and bubbly and sneaks us food under the table (when the Tim isn't looking).

I heard a rumor that she won't come back home until Thanksgiving, whenever that is.

Whenever it is, I'm sure it's too long!

The Mom and Tim are always busy with stuff or are always leaving the house for hours on end. I'm told to get in my crate, which sometimes earns me a cookie.

They are pretty boring in my opinion. At night they play backgammon and try to ignore me even though I'm being as obnoxious as I can be.

Group hug! Play with me! Treat!

I'm talking, but they are not listening.

Stupid humans.

Ready for Action

Feeling better ...........haven't puked once today.

I'm ready for a little action and fun.

I know they're in there!

Just gotta find a way in or hope one of the stupid humans leaves the door open.

It's been rumored that they are leaving as soon as that guy Will's family gets home from vacation.

The Mistress has had her fill of them, but not me ... I haven't even had a taste yet!

An Off Day

Today is a blah day. I'm not up to speed, which is unusual. It's been raining and I'm content to lay around. The Mistress is painting. I think I have a stomach bug or I've eaten something that might have been a bit more ripened than needed. All I can say is that I feel a little sorry for The Tim when he scoops the yard next time!

The rats are back and have been here for sometime. That Will guy went to Europe for an extended time to do something called "traveling". I still haven't located them, although I smell something familiar in the basement bathroom. Sometimes I hear a scurrying noise. If I could only open the door....................

If he can do it, so can I.......

The Tim recently posted 10 so called "interesting" things about himself. Not! How 'bout boring and FREAKISH!

Scotch Tape - give me a break - stupid human.

Here are 10 things (about me) - which are interesting:

1) Dog poo (especially Mocha's) makes for a good snack.

2) I can jump six feet straight up in the air about a thousand times a day.

3) I am the official dish pre-washer of the house (see pic).

4) I pee when I get scared.

5) I am scared of air horns and dynamite blasts - see #4 (I just found this out).

6) I like the smell of foam rubber and enjoy chewing it into small pieces.

7) I lick myself compulsively ... and take pleasure in doing so.

8) I go get Mocha for the humans - she's deaf. (I've mentioned this before but its so darn impressive, it bears repeating.)

9) I have a condo in Athens, Georgia.

10) I find muzzles to be both degrading and embarrassing.

Naaaa ....What's Up Doc?

First rats and now this ... you're killin' me here!

Rat Sitting

It has been one week since I’ve bitten someone (other dogs included).

And until a few days ago, I was handling it fairly well. But then the Will guy un-expectantly brought his rats over to my house. The humans kept calling them “chinchilla’s” but I’m no fool. They’re rats I tell ya!

Well at first I thought, “This is great! I’ll chase the filthy rodents around a bit, toss ‘em up in the air a few times and then following the laws of nature, create a scene reminiscent of something the male human (Tim I think they call him) refers to as Mutual of Omaha’s Wild Kingdom.”

But N O O O O O O !

As it turns out, they weren’t there for my amusement at all. It seems we were “rat sitting.” Can you believe it? As I said before – dumb humans.

Anyway, they put them downstairs in the basement and would not open the darn door. Even though they know all too well that I am neither tall enough to reach the knob nor do I have thumbs, opposable or otherwise.

As you might imagine, the vermin stench wafting up the stairwell, taunted me to no end. It was unbearable. At night, I’d lie in my crate and dream of creeping down the steps, sneaking over to the cage and then without warning, start barking like crazy scaring, the decon right out of ‘em!

Then in my dream, I would knock against the table, sending the cage tumbling to the floor. In the ensuing crash, the cage door would pop open and it would suddenly be “rat-o-mania!” But alas, it was only a dream and each morning I would awaken to find the downstairs door firmly closed.

Then, just as suddenly as they arrived, they were gone.

Such cruel treatment is uncalled for and is on par with other despicable human behaviors such as the “fake throw,” the “pretend treat” and the “let’s go for a nice ride in the car – to the vet’s office!”

Is it any wonder I sometimes bite?

Maybe I’ll get lucky tonight and they’ll bring a stranger home. Then I can play the old “I was only defending you,” routine after taking a well deserved chunk out of their calf.

Dumb humans. They’ll believe anything.

Time Out

Yesterday I spent the whole day in jail or outside, away from the pack.

I acted like an *hole.

I bit Mocha on the nose and drew blood.

I don't know why I did it. Sometimes I get jealous. I want to be the only dog.

The Mom put me in the crate and then later outside. She was pretty mad. Later on, she and the Tim came outside and she let me sit with her. When Mocha came outside, I tried to bite her again and got put off the deck.

Today I'm trying very hard not to get in trouble. Mocha isn't a bad sort. I actually like her but, she is inferior to me since she is deaf as a doornail and way too submissive.

I get extra points with the humans when I "go get Mocha" for them when they can't get her attention.

The Beginning

January 15, 2005. Me at 16 weeks old. Left hell via Washington, D.C.

We (The Mom, BA, and a guy named Will) stayed at Uncle John and Uncle Keith's house, where I promptly defecated and peed on their newly refinished hardwoods, sending Keith into a frenetic cleaning jag.

We arrived in Roanoke a couple of days later. They did not know I was a Hellerhound. Nobody told them. Dumb humans.

I've come to love the three I live with and with some unwillingness, I accepted The Mom as Pack Leader. No others are allowed in the pack, if I have anything to say about it and that includes that Will guy.

Luckily, there are no cats.