Where I am Manhandled by a Fat Man in a Red Suit!

My latest adventure started with the fateful words “We’ve got to get ready, I’m going to take you to get your picture taken with Santa.”  The first thing I did after Mom said that that was to jump, run in little circles and whine. That’s pretty much normal for me when I hear we are going bye-bye in the car. Then, she started cleaning me up, brushing my coat and wiping the boogies out of my eyes all of which takes 500 years when all I want to do is GO. Mom told me to calm down and then went down to the basement with me hot on heels. She opened Max-the angel dog’s tub and took out a soft, red jingle-bell collar that she put on me, a toy hamburger that was to die for, and a set of furry pointy sticks connected by a headband. This last item gave me pause as in my experience, headbands never lead to anything good. Mom called these furry sticks “antlers” and I felt very uneasy when I saw her put them in her purse. It was only when I was walking out to the car that I thought “What the heck is a Santa?”

I soon found out. We went up to Feeders where there were about a million other dogs and their people waiting in line. As we walked through the store, Mom refused to let me wipe out all the other nasty smells by saying “No tinkle” every other second. She signed some papers at a desk and then we went to wait in line like everybody else. I wanted to remain standing as a couple of knuckleheads kept trying to challenge me, but she made me lie down and that ticked me off. When they called our name, Mom took me up and gave my leash into the hand of some weird looking fat man in a red velvet suit. Heck, even I know that normal human males don’t wear red velvet. Mom turned and started to walk away, yes that’s right, leaving me with this freak-o-saris  who had possible dog killer written all over him. After all, that red color may have come from the blood of my innocent, but pea-brained kin. I tried to run after her, but he grabbed my collar and for a minute I thought I had met my doom. A minute later, I wished I had. Mom stopped and picked up her purse, then whipped out the antler sticks and planted them on my head. Another guy took a picture of me (O, the humiliation!) and while Mom was looking at it, I saw a couple of frou-frou dogs laughing at me behind their paws. I flashed them a tooth, though, when Mom wasn’t looking and you can bet that wiped the grin off their faces pretty quick. Mom asked the guy to take another picture of me without the antler sticks to see if she liked it any better. But I was done, I’d had enough! I was supposed to get to see a Santa and I never did, it was all a big trick! So I decided right then and there to close my eyes so the camera couldn’t see me. That should teach Mom and all of them a big lesson!

                                                                 

 

                                                                   

Where I become Possessed and Almost Lose My Home

Now comes the worst part………..When I last left you, things were looking up after our first session with Jerry-the-trainer. That following week, though, things went from bad to worse and I was a very bad boy. The only thing I can figure is that I must have been possessed by Eilwen, a demon German Shepherd puppy. (If you listen to his name backwards, it sounds like Newlie.) My head didn’t spin around or anything like you see in the movies and my eyes didn’t turn red, but all the other signs point to it. I wouldn’t listen, I growled at Mom and Dad a couple of times and I chewed on Dad’s big toe. I would block his way every time he tried to walk down the hall and the more he yelled at me to move out of the way, the more I barked. I got in arguments with the dogs on either side of me and took bites out of Mom’s pillows and her mattress and I chewed up her laundry basket.

Finally, Mom started crying one day and left a message for Jerry-the trainer to call her. Then, she talked to my doctor and said that she was at her wit’s end, that she couldn’t have me acting up and scaring Dad with him being sick and all. She wrote on the computer to the rescue people and said that she might not be able to keep me and they said they would take me back if that’s what she and Dad wanted. And all this time, she was crying and crying. When Jerry-the trainer called back, Mom told him everything and said she was heartbroken, but she didn’t see what else she could do. Jerry said for her to bring me over to his house the next day. He said he would step up our training and that he thought he could fix things so she didn’t have to lose me.

The next training class was rough. Jerry had Mom put me in a “sit” and then I had to stay in that position for about 32 days. Whenever I broke the “stay,” the bug would bite my neck, Mom would take me back to the same spot and make me sit again and Jerry would tell her not to be nice about it either. Then we did the same thing with “down-stay.” After that, we did some more walking on the leash and more agility. I tell you, I was one tired puppy when we left Jerry’s house that night. It is very hard for dogs to learn to be still and to do what someone else tells them regardless of what they want to do and that’s especially true if they are possessed! This training class went a long way toward driving Eilwen out of me and looking back, I am glad no one tried to use a stake or a silver bullet.
                                                               

Me staying for 32 days

Mom had also been reading a German Shepherd Forum site on the computer. It talked about a training program called “Nothing in Life is Free.” and it really is pretty simple. In a nutshell, the dog has to do something to get anything. Mom had always made me Sit and wait till she said OK before I could eat. Now, I had to sit and wait before each handful of dog food. If I wanted to go outside, I had to sit and wait. If I wanted a cookie, I had to sit and wait. In fact, I did so much sitting while this was going on, I almost got a blister on my bee-hind.

Mom stopped playing with me in the house, too, for a while because it got me too excited. She thought I needed to learn that jumping and running and roughhousing were for outside and inside was for quieter things, like chewing on my ball or chewing on my ball. (That is about the only thing I really like to do that doesn’t involve running, jumping and roughhousing.) We did graduate along the way where now I can play games in the house like Find where Mom hides my ball and I have to find it. Or she will put four or five toys in the floor and say a word and I have to go and get the toy she named. I think this is a sucky game but she likes it.

Anyways, we went to Jerry’s house more times after this and we learned more things. I am a different dog now and Mom is different, too. She has learned how to make her voice deep and loud when I am not listening enough to her. She will sometimes come and stand over me and try to make her shoulders big so that I get the point that she is the boss. She will also make the bug bite my neck and if that doesn’t work, will swat at me if I am really, really bad. Despite the fact I am stronger than her and could do terrible damage with my fangs, Mom is not afraid of me any more than most moms are afraid of their children. She rules by the force of love, not muscle. 

Where I Meet Jerry-The-Trainer at Unleashed Pawtential

Well, I have to admit I didn’t know what to make of Jerry-the-trainer at first. When Mom told me we were going to some training classes, I thought I would be sitting on the sideline giving little woofs of approval when she did something good, but nothing turned out quite like I expected. When we arrived at his house and we had all smelled each other over good, Jerry took my harness off and made me put a spikey collar on my neck. I didn’t want to, but Jerry made me put it on anyway. After it was on, though, I changed my mind because it did make me look like a dog not to be messed with. Later, I asked Mom about getting some tattoos, but she wouldn’t go for the idea.

Then, Mom and Jerry blabbed for a while, all about guess who. She had me show him some of the commands I knew, told him about my bad boy history and went over some of the different things she had tried. She also told him she was concerned about my attitude toward other dogs. He went in the house and came back out with a dog even bigger than me (I know, can you believe it?), a Dane called RD, so that he could see how I would react. Jerry later told Mom that he thought I was young and goofy and probably hadn’t been around other dogs too much, but he didn’t see me as aggressive.

Then, he said “Lets go down the street here to work” so he walked and RD paced and I trotted dragging Mom along behind me at a run. We got to this great big parking lot with grass around it and Jerry hooked on a long, long leash and walked me around. It was weird, though, because every time I got the idea to go off on my own, some big bug would bite or pinch my neck. Then, Jerry had Mom walk me around and believe it or not, the same thing happened! She must have had a smaller bug, though, because it was a smaller pinch. Mom stopped and looked upset the first time or two that I yelped when she was walking me, but Jerry just said to go on walking. He said actions have consequences for dogs just like they do for people.  He said that German Shepherds were just about the smartest of dog breeds (I knew it!) but that our intelligence could be a two-edged sword and a bunch of other stuff that I didn’t understand. Jerry told Mom to make me move out of the way when she walked toward me, not to go around, but go through me if she had to. We must have walked around for about 10 hours before we stopped, but I did learn two things. First, if I stayed close to whoever was walking me, the bug didn’t pinch my neck and second, it is a far, far better thing to move out of the way than to let your toe accidently get stepped on…YOUCH!

Mom mentioned to Jerry about how I had gotten kicked out of doggy daycare and that she had hoped one day to be able to take me to a dog park. Jerry said he wasn’t all that crazy about either idea because of the dangers of dog fights/ attacks and dogs getting sick from stuff they caught from other dogs. But he said things generally worked out OK for golden retrievers, labs and the like, but he didn’t think it was the place for shepherds like me. He said we were working dogs and that we generally wanted to be with humans, not so much with other animals. I think Mom was a little disappointed, but I gave him a high paw for that.

Finally, we went back to Jerry’s yard where he had some of that agility equipment like they had at obedience class, only his was huge. The first time he asked me to jump over one of those big fences I wanted to ask him if he was crazy. But that was actually nothing compared to climbing those mountains in his yard and walking over skinny boards with holes in them. I thought for sure I was a dead dog, but guess what? I did it! Jerry said I was a good boy and rubbed my fur and I decided right then and there that he was my new best friend.

 

Where I Have a Wonderful Thanksgiving Day!

Fans, I hope all of you had a great turkey day like I did. Yesterday was just a wonderful day for me! First of all, my Mom and Dad stayed home with me all day long. The sun was shining and the air was just right, cool but not too hot and not too cold. There was no stupid rain to make things muddy so I got to go out in the backyard and Mom hit 3,200 balls for me to chase. Instead of kibble for supper, I got a can of Merrick "Thanksgiving Dinner" which had turkey, sweet potatoes, carrots, green beans and apples in it, plus a cookie for dessert. It was the bomb. After that, we had family stop by last night and Brian and Megan played with me and gave me a ton of belly-rubs and heinie-butts. Finally, when I was sleepy and ready to take a little nap, I got to snuggle with Mom which put the icing on the cake of my day! Who could ask for anything more?

Where I Graduated From Obedience Summa Cum Doggee

When Mom first mentioned obedience class, I wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but I didn’t mind the idea of going. The truth was that I’d rather be with her doing nothing than by myself doing pretty much anything. And if she needed help with obedience, how could that be bad? So, she signed us up for a six week course at Feeders Supply. I will never forget that first night when we walked in to what looked like a convention for giant dogs. Of the eight or ten dogs there, nine started talking trash as soon as they saw me. They barked “COME ON, TOUGH GUY, MAKE MY DAY!” and “MY FANGS IN YOUR THROAT ARE GOING TO BE THE LAST THING YOU FEEL, PUNK!”  plus other rude and nasty things. Mom pulled me over to one side before I could have them for breakfast, but I couldn’t help thinking if the class was going to teach manners, there were a few dogs that were definitely in the right place.

The first class was mostly to let us meet everybody. Then, we worked on looking at our Moms or Dads when they said our names and coming when we were called. We also spent a lot of time on “sits” which I already knew. Mom was a little slow in that department, though, I don’t think she ever did learn how to sit on command. I got lots of cookies for my performance, but I don’t think she got a single one.

Class two almost started out as a disaster. They told us the week before not to wear harnesses as they encourage pulling, so Mom put a collar on me for this class. But I was so excited when we got out of the car that I was pulling her at a run and almost made her fall. Mom said I had to have a harness as she couldn’t afford any broken bones so the people doing the class suggested a better harness. We spent the rest of the time practicing “sits” (for the slow ones, shhh!, don’t tell Mom) and “downs” at which I was a pro and not pulling at which I sucked.

It was around the third week that I realized we had we had a problem dog, a female Swissy, in the mix. I was not exactly sure why I didn’t like her, I just knew she was trouble. She kept staring at me, so I growled at her real mean a couple of times. Then, we did exercises to practice all the commands we had already learned and the teachers talked about prissy things like grooming.

During week four, they taught “leave it” and “drop it” which I already knew and I did OK with those. (Poor Mom, I am afraid she is not going to get to graduate…I think she is hoping to slide through on my performance and will be crushed if she is given an “F” on her Pawgress Report.) They also talked about different kinds of dog food at the end and I offered to be a taste-tester, but they said they weren’t taking any applications at that point.

Week five was memorable because that was the time I got assaulted by a plastic bottle. The Swissy continued to stare at me and I continued to growl at her so finally one of the teachers smacked me on the nose with a water bottle. I was like “What the freak just happened?” and then I realized that she must have hit me by mistake, she had to be aiming for the Swissy. I kissed the teacher on the cheek to let her know all was forgiven, but just to be on the safe side, I only growled under my breath from then on and gave the bottle a wide berth.

On the last week, we reviewed everything we had learned or not learned. Then, we all had time to show off doing at trick we had practiced. My trick was Mom pitching a ball, me catching it and then dunking it in a basket. I think they knew enough at that point not to expect a trick from Mom. Then, we did something called “agility” to finish off the night. We jumped over rails and ran up and down little mountains and, scariest of all, we had to run through big tubes called tunnels. I bit the tunnels several times so that they knew they better not try to mess with me.

Anyways, after all that, they passed out our diplomas with our name on them. I had them put Mom’s name on my diploma so she wouldn’t be too upset about not passing. Then, we said goodbye to everybody but the Swissy, and I headed home with my first advanced degree under my belt.

Where I Talk About My Shady Past

Friends, you probably don’t know this, but as it happens, I have a rather shady past. I am ashamed to say that I haven’t always been the good boy that I am now. When I first came to live with Mom and Dad, I wasn’t sure about anything and so I tried not to cause any problems. But it wasn’t long before I started to feel more comfortable, like I was in my own home, and about the same time, Mom said I must have gotten a burst of hormones (whatever those are) because I started acting like a “mouthy teenager.” I would try to argue with Mom and Dad because, well… Mom was soft and Dad was sick so I decided since I was a man, I had better start running things for them.  “Bad to the Bone” became my favorite song.

Mom worried that maybe I needed more exercise, so she signed me up for something called “doggie daycare. Despite the sissy name, I didn’t actually mind going too much because I got to go bye-bye in the car and though it wasn’t the most exciting thing to do, it was better than a kick in the pants as they say. I was in a room with other big dogs for most of the day with a few breaks for food and walks and naps. They wouldn’t give us any toys or balls to play with in the big room, though, and once you take those away, what’s the point? So, Mom decided to try out a different day care and that’s where I started to get my bad reputation.  All the big and little dogs in this day care were mixed together and it was way more fun in some ways. They had a GIANT yard and we could chase each other and chase balls and all kinds of things, but there was nowhere for you to go to get away when you were tired and wanted to take a nap. Plus, they had some dogs there who didn’t want to listen to me and do what I told them, so two different times I had to nip a troublemaker to keep them in line. You would think that the daycare would appreciate my efforts on their behalf, but they didn’t. That’s right…. I got kicked out of doggy daycare.

I’ll talk more about this another time, but Mom had started early taking me to an obedience class up at Feeders. But I couldn’t see any difference in her and I was getting in deeper and deeper trouble at home all the time.  I started standing in front of Dad when he walked down the hallway and when he yelled at me to move, I would bark at him. One time I chewed on his big toe just because it looked so delicious. Also, I wouldn’t pay attention to Mom and if she was doing something I didn’t like, I would grumble or growl at her. I never showed any teeth or anything, but she didn’t like it. And I stood on my back legs and tried to look as dangerous as I could and barked really LOUD if anything or anyone came near my back yard, even the neighbors who I saw a thousand times a day. I figured it was my job to defend the yard and I couldn’t be too careful. Mom tried to tell me to stop but I was in my zone and wouldn’t listen. So, she tried other things which would have been funny if I had been able to laugh. She tried dragging me away, but I was so much stronger than her. She tried throwing tennis balls at me to get my attention but she almost always missed. She tried swatting me with something called a fly-swatter that I couldn’t even feel and finally got the idea to throw water at me. I have to admit, that last one did make me stop for a minute but then I thought “What the heck! I don’t care if I’m wet.” and so that stopped working, too.

Mom decided to get a trainer since she and Dad hadn’t learned from the obedience class that I was the boss.  The first trainer didn’t work out too well, though, so Mom decided to go up to Feeders and buy an electric collar. While she was up there, one of the store helpers gave her a card that had the name of another trainer on it in case she wanted to try someone else. The helper said his name was Jerry and he was very good. Mom came home and tried using the collar on her arm and turning it up to see what it felt like, but she said there wasn’t much to it. Then, she put it on me and it just kind of felt like a little tickle or itch around my neck. Anyways, that didn’t work either, so we were back to where we started. So, that’s when she decided to call Jerry-the trainer to see if he could help………….. ZZZzzz-ah-ZZZzxxx  ZZZZzzz-ah-zzzZZ  zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…..

I’ll see you guys later. I’m getting awfully sleepy, I think I’m going to go climb in bed and go nite-nite. Mom, can you fix my bed for me and tuck me in?  

Where I Appear in Costume & Introduce Two Homeless Shepherds

Hi Guys!  At the risk of beating a dead horse, I have one more thing to say about Halloween.  I think it’s finally time to put everybody out of their misery and reveal my secret identity as a crime-busting canine. Mom thinks the pictures turned out really good and I wrote a poem to go along with them. CAUTION: Laugh at your own risk, you may wake up to find a shepherd chewing on your toes if you’re not careful.

I am a caped crusader, a strong and mighty foe

Defender of the helpless and always in the know.

So do not fear the evil of ghouls and devil spawn

Just give a yelp if you need help and Batdog will respond.

 

OK, so last week I said I was going to introduce you to a couple of dogs who need homes. The first is a German Shepherd dog named Sheena. Wait a minute…wasn’t she in a movie? I got it, that’s right, Sheena, Queen of the Jungle! I wonder what in the world a movie star dog would be doing in need of home? Anyways, Sheena is a fifteen months old baby girl (Duh!). She weighs 47 pounds, is black all over and quite a looker if you ask me. They tell me she is frightened around people she doesn’t know and any loud noises or sudden movements scare her. Those Hollywood people must have really done a number on her, I guess. But get this! Sheena has been part of that prison program where they match up dogs with inmates, I think they are trying to teach inmates not to bite. He has taught her lots of things, too, so she knows most of her basic stuff like “Sit” and “Down,” but she will only do what you say if she feels safe with you. They say once Sheena learns to trust you, she will bond with you like superglue….and she does do well with other dogs. I think Sheena needs a home with a strong alpha that doesn’t like noise and has a lot of patience…like me! (Mom laughed) Probably a home with no human puppies would be best.

Toby is my second assignment, but he wants to talk for himself, so I’ll turn the floor over to him.

Hey Newlie! Can I be on your blog too?      I am a great guy but I’ve been stuck in a kennel for 4 months.     And you understand what that’s like. I went through Camp Canine 4 years ago and then this really nice lady adopted me.    I tried to eat her yorkie when I got to the house,   he was just the right size for a snack.    Not sure what went wrong, but my new mom got mad at me.    We had a heart to heart and the little fuzz ball and I learned how to get along.   My new mom was really dedicated to me and put in one of those invisible fences.    That was not much fun.   Zap! Zap! Zap!.     But I got the hang of it.    Just wait a few months and then the zaps fizzle out – If I was patient I could just run through it.   And oh what fun that was.    My mom has lots of woods in her back yard.    Once I learned I could go through the fence,   I’d run to the woods,   roll in dead animals and come home to show my mom!   But guess what,    that didn’t go over well either.    Those humans have funny noses,   they just don’t appreciate what we dogs do.    At any rate,   after four years, my mom just couldn’t put up with me anymore.    She says she would worry about me when I got loose, but I think it was my antics in the woods that did it.    The nice people at the Humane Society took me back but they haven’t had any luck getting someone to consider me.   You look like a great, upstanding guy.    And you know that shepherds are great companions.    Maybe you could spread the word?   Your friend, Toby

Anyone interested in either Sheena or Toby, please bark at the Humane Society of Oldham County, (502)222-7537, and say Newlie sent you.

 

Where I Am Entered in a Halloween Contest

It has been so long since I wrote that you are probably wondering if I was dognapped or something. I am actually fine, but my mom has been acting crazy for the last couple of weeks. She has been so busy trying that stupid Halloween costume on me and then taking it off and sticking needles in it that she didn’t have time to write down what I was saying. To tell you the truth, I wondered what the needle business was all about, like if she was doing voodoo on me or something, but she said she was sewing on my costume because part of it was too long. I didn’t know Moms’ cussed, sewing must be hard work. Then, she took me up to the Hounds Tooth to get a bath of all things. I swear she is obsessed with being clean. I just had a bath about two months ago, I wasn’t even dirty. Besides washing you, they clean your ears and brush your teeth and clip your toenails and all kinds of personal things that I would rather not mention. Then, they started in with putting the dumb costume on me and making me pose for about a thousand pictures!!! I mean, I like everybody there, don’t get me wrong, they are all super nice to me especially Carla who calls me her baby and gives me kisses. But geez, somebody give a break!

Mom finally came to get me and loaded me in the car, still in that dang costume. I thought we were finally going home to do what really mattered, namely pooping and playing ball, but NOOOOOOO! She took me over to Feeders Supply where, to my disgust, I saw millions of other dogs in costumes. That’s when I found out that Mom had entered me in the Feeders “Howl-O-Ween Contest. I felt like I was in the middle of a nightmare. So, we go in and at first all I see are all these little dogs pretending to be hotdogs and such and then, me, the lone giant and I was humiliated. But a few minutes later, I saw my friend, Jerry-the-trainer, and he had several of his huge Dane dogs in costume with him and I felt a little better. Still, I was so freaking hot in that costume and Mom kept making me lie down instead of letting me circulate. I never did get a chance to make time with that pretty Golden who was giving me the eye. Anyways, we all had to parade around in front of judges and I didn’t get picked. The three winners were the Dane dressed like a camel, the boxer dressed in boxing clothes and a little dog dressed as a Chia Pet, whatever that is. But Mom said I was still number one in her book even if I didn’t win.

On the big night itself, Mom came rushing in from work and got me dressed in my costume again. I lay there like a giant dog-mat in front of the door for 22 hours and we had one human puppy come by in all that time and that was Meg who lives next door. I am sure there is a lesson in there somewhere, but I haven’t figured it out yet. Mom is already planning for next year, but I think we better skip Halloween and go straight to Turkey Day, now that’s my kind of holiday! And nobody better get any ideas about dressing me up as a fat bird or blood is going to flow.

By the way, I know I promised you pictures of me and a couple of friends who need homes last time, but there was some sort of glitch with the pictures and that’s another reason why we are late. They should be coming soon and Mom will post them for me as soon as they come in.

 

 

Where I Learn About Halloween & Become a Poster Boy

I’ve got a lot to tell you about this week so let’s get started right away! First thing, Mom came home one day talking about something called Halloween. She told me that one night every year, human puppies get dressed up in scary outfits and try to trick people into giving them candy. This did not sound right to me, I didn’t want anyone scaring my Mom and Dad and taking their candy (whatever that is) so I asked Mom if she wanted me to chase the demon puppies away. But she said no, she enjoyed seeing them come to the door and then she talked some about training me to give out candy. Humans are very odd is all I have to say.  

A day or two later, she brought home a bag from PetSmart that smelled kind of interesting. You can imagine my disappointment when she pulled out some stupid outfits and tried to put them on me! (Why do even the best of humans have an uncontrollable desire to put clothes on dogs?) The first costume had pictures of a rocket on it. It was dorky and I didn’t want to stick my legs through the holes, so I refused to have anything to do with it. Mom said the only other 2X costumes they had were Winnie the Pooh or Eeyore and I would have looked a lot dorkier in them than the rocket suit. The second costume was just an extra-large and it was a little snug, but not too uncomfortable. It went over my head and then strapped around my belly and I grumbled a little bit, but mostly just for show. Mom said I looked awful cute in that one and she would take the rocket suit back. She said not to tell you what costume it is, we will save it for a surprise next time.

Last weekend, Mom and a friend from work took me to a “Barktoberfest. It was a bright sunshiny day and there were people everywhere, places where they were selling things and good smelling food and about a million other dogs walking around. (It used to be that I didn’t like other dogs too much, but I am getting more used to them now as long as they don’t come near my yard.) The first thing that happened was a huge pit bull came over and kissed me right in the choppers and I decided he was nice so I kissed him back! That must have started something because I tell you I got kissed by just about every dog in the area. Mom said she was proud of me for acting so nice and not getting into any fights. ( I told her that I’m a lover, not a fighter, and she said I was full of baloney.) After a while, we decided to get out of the sun so we went and sat at a table with big umbrella. I jumped up in a chair and Mom put my water bowl on the table so I could lean down and get a drink from time to time.  Lots of people stopped in their tracks and took pictures of us because they thought Mom and her friend were so cute.

 

Then, you will never guess what happened!  I was approached about being kind of a poster boy for the Humane Society! These people try to find homes for dogs who are orphans, like I was, and they thought I might be a good spokesdog since my own story turned out so happily. I said I would be glad to do it and when asked what I would charge, I said a hundred cookies and balls each day. (I drive a hard bargain.) So, tune in next time, friends and neighbors, and I will introduce you to a couple of fine looking furry friends. See you later, alligator!

Where I Learn to Become Part of a Family

Guess where I have been? My Mom decided to go on a little trip, so I had to go to the Pet Lodge. Yes, the name does make you think of rustic cabins with large comfy beds and roaring fires, but all dogs know the Pet Lodges of the world are kennels. Most are clean places with nice people, but dogs never show up on their own and check in for a holiday. We would much rather stay at home.  Take me, for instance. One, there was no one to watch my yard while I was gone. Two, they always put me in a cage at the Lodge like they think I am a lion or something. (OK, I know they keep all the other dogs in cages, too, but I can understand that because a bigger bunch of knuckleheads I never saw.) If they would have let me out to roam, I could have helped with security and brought some sorely needed order into their operation. One poodle, in particular, needed a sharp lesson, but back to the point. I am somewhat bitter about the fact that Dad didn’t have to go to a Lodge, too, now how is that fair? And Mom should have taken me with her. I told her so, but she said I wouldn’t fit in her suitcase….and she calls ME silly. I would have fit just fine!

Even when I first came to live with Mom and Dad, I wanted to be with them as much as I could. Luckily, they weren’t the kind of people who just got a dog and stuck it out in the yard because I would have been miserable. That part was good. But I wasn’t sure what the rules were in the early days and they didn’t always understand about me.  For example, Mom didn’t like it when I grabbed a ball out of her hands, so she would hold the ball up high. I thought she wanted me to jump for it, but when I did, she would fuss at me and I would be confused. Also, they didn’t understand about me, how young I was and how much exercise and attention I needed not to be a psycho-dog. And I learned some things, too! I learned that Dad didn’t much like it when I chewed on his toe and Mom was not crazy about me dropping my ball in the water bowl and then picking it up and slopping water all over the floor. So, we got our wires crossed sometimes, but we managed to figure it out.

I use to get nervous inside when Mom took me someplace and left me there for a while. I would think that maybe Mom and Dad were turning me back in because they didn’t like me anymore and I would be very sad. I knew that Mom still missed the dog that went to heaven. I smelled some dog toys down in the basement one day, but when I tried to pry the lid off the tub, Mom said “No, those are Max’s things.” I also heard her cry every once in a while at night and whisper “Maxie,” just that one word over and over again.  And though I tried very hard to be good, I would forget from time to time and do things on the No-No list like chewing up her laundry basket and taking bites out of a pillow when I got mad. I was a little jealous and thought “Maybe she won’t ever love me like she loves him.” But now I know better. I am pretty sure now that she would never go off and leave me. I think she still loves me even when I am bad. And if something ever happened to me one day, I think she and Dad would cry for me, too, and whisper “Newlie.”

 

 

Where I Tell the Story of My Adoption

Gosh, I’m hungry! It’s almost time to eat so I guess I’ll talk to you to keep my mind off food.  It’s pretty depressing, though, to think a highlight of my day is getting two cups of those brown balls for supper. Such is the life of a dog.


Anyways, to take up my story from last time, the rescue people told me one day that they had found a home for me. They brought me to a Feeders Supply to meet my new family and my Mom and Dad were waiting in the parking lot when we arrived. They looked OK to me then, not like dog-killers or anything, but still I was a little nervous because you never know about people. Plus, I was just about driven to distraction because of all the smells around and all the pee-mails that had been left for me in the parking lot. I worked hard to answer as many as I could while everybody stood around yakking, but I know I didn’t get them all. The rescue people finally helped put me in the car and off we went to my new home which I liked right away. I ran through every room investigating and could smell another dog had lived there once, but something told me that maybe he had gone to heaven. And then I got to go outside where I had a big yard all my own! A lot of riff-raff there, but I knew I could straighten that out in no time. Mom came out in the yard and hit tennis balls to me which is my favorite thing of all time. I got so excited that I tried to jump on her a couple of times, but she didn’t like it so I stopped. During the night, I went in to look at her while she was sleeping and I gave her a lick on the cheek for being so nice to me. She called it a drive-by kiss.


That was just the beginning of the story. Now, I love my Mom so much there are not even words for it and I am not just saying this because she is writing it down.  I love her as much as my ball and, as any dog knows, that is huge. She is the first person I want to see in the morning and the last one I want to see at night. I follow her around all day long so I know where she is at all times. She feeds me all my meals, kibble that’s true, but she always puts a little treat on top to make it taste good. She makes sure I have plenty of water and puts ice-cubes in it because she knows I only like it cold. She brushes me and cleans out my ears (a full-time job) but is a little too hung up on baths in my opinion. She also rubs my belly, scratches my ears, takes me for walks and lets me go bye-bye in the car. When we go up to Feeders, I hide behind her as I am scared of the large, gray monsters called “grocery carts” that live there. I am not sure why, but Mom is not afraid and she doesn’t even have any fangs, just little white nubs that she calls teeth. Mom says I am ridiculous but still her good boy.


I love my Dad second best. I spend the most time with him because he doesn’t have to go to the place called work. (I would like to bite the place called work; I hate it because it always takes my Mom away from me.)Dad is sick and his arms and paws don’t work right. I try to lick them to make them well, but I haven’t seen any change yet. Dad loves me, too. I like to lie on his feet and watch TV with him, but FOX doesn’t carry near enough canine programming. Dad tries to pet me and calls me a good boy, too, although sometimes I am “the damn dog” as in “The damn dog just dropped that slobbery ball in my lap again.” I wish he would get well so he could play with me, too.


Do I hear the sound of kibble?  Gotta go!


 


 

 

Where I Tell the Story of My Early Life

It feels very strange talking to a lot of people I don't know and have never smelled. I'm generally a pretty friendly guy for my breed, but still, I am a German Shepherd and a little protective around strangers. Oh well, I guess I would rather you call me by my name than to yell "Hey you! or "Come over here, dog" so let me introduce myself. My name is Newlie. I know, I know, it's a stupid, wimpy name. Why not Blitz or Panzer given my German ancestry? Tornado, Hurricane and even Mischief sound like strong and manly names. Unfortunately, dogs, adopted or not, are not given any choice in these matters. If we were, all boy dogs would be named "Killer" or "Stud" and all girl dogs would be named"Lady" or "Princess." My only consolation is that I could have been saddled with Nolan for the rest of my life. That was the name I was given by the rescue people before I was adopted.

I guess you have figured out by now that I am not the one choosing the template (What the heck is a template?) or doing the typing. My Mom is doing all that, I just tell her what to write down. She says all the time that I need more "mental stimulation" and I usually just say "Whatever." But I figure it's no skin off my nose to sit here and talk and tell stories and it is way better than doing those puzzle games she keeps bringing home.

This has been my home for about like 100 years. (Mom said more like ten months.) I don't really remember much about where I was before I came here. I was born. The people who helped me get adopted thought I lived for a while in a place where I made puppies for girl dogs, but nobody knows for sure. Then somehow, I was on my own for a while and had to try to find my own food and water. Some days, I couldn't find anything and then I was thirsty and my stomach hurt. And I didn't have any place to go to get away from the heat or the bugs or the rain so I didn't like it. One day, some people picked me up and took me to a very bad place where every time a new dog came in, another dog disappeared. I was very afraid that I would disappear, too, but a miracle happened at the last minute. Some nice ladies took me away from the bad place and were kind to me. I told them I was tired of being on my own and they helped me find a family that I could rescue.

I'll tell you more about myself and my family next time, but I better stop now as it's almost time for me to go on patrol. I have seen a family of rogue squirrels hanging around lately and I need to keep both my eyes on them. I heard somebody on TV the other night say that being watchful is the price we must pay to be safe from our enemies. Mom explained that to me and I figure it must go double when it comes to squirrels. After all, if it's on TV, it must be true!