When it comes to dogs... it's "all in the family"

Some people may be surprised to find a dog with his own blog, but my thoughts from the dog dish is a blog that is actually represented on a website, "Dogs with Blogs." So, there. I am not alone. They just need to make these keyboards wider to suit my paws.

I tried to get out of this job, but Tom says the blog has my paw prints all over it.

When it comes to dogs, it's a matter that's all in the family.

My immediate predecessors in this family, I hear, were a black lab/golden retriever mix, named, Shadow, and a golden named, Kelsey.

In his early days, I hear Shadow could get into his share of trouble. He once ate a whole bag of Dove chocolates, and didn't get sick. Not to mention, a turkey, a ham, and who knows what else?

Kelsey, on the other hand, was quite a laid back, lovable dog, I am told. She would run off with Shadow, on occasion, but was really trouble-free for the most part.

Tom told me a story about their dog, Magic. She had a litter of puppies. He noted that whenever someone would come by to look at the puppies, in order to adopt one, his daughter, Sarah, would hide the runt of the litter under her shirt.

She was about three years old. Tom said that one evening a man came to look at the puppies, which were part Spring Spaniel, and he asked Sarah about the pooch she was hiding.

She told him, "You don't want this one, Mister, it's a flea-male!"

A girl after my own heart.

During that time, he said they had dogs named: Magic, Max and Murphy.

Tom also said they had a few dogs when he was younger, Rusty, Blackie and Smokey. There was another dog who shall go nameless.

He noted that his grandmother had a toy terrier named, Tiny. She drank two cups of coffee with cream and sugar every morning. Tom added that if his grandfather made the coffee, the dog would give it a sniff and walk away. Coffee's not bag.

Tom's dad also had a German Shepherd over in Germany after World War II. Alf would drink a nice big bowl of beer, and roll down two flights of stairs after wards.

Well, it's nice to hear about the family history, but I am a dog living for today.

And today, I hope the weather clears, so, Tom and I can take a walk, then, back home for a nap.

Woof! Woof!
Stanley

It's time to give thanks... woof!

Yes, it is time to give thanks. The big holiday is quickly approaching!

Even us dogs have a reason be to be thankful. At least most of us do!

I am both happy and thankful that Tom & Donna decided to adopt me, and take me home that Valentine's Day evening. Not that I wasn't having a good time where I was, but I like it much better here.

I saw the turkey sitting in the fridge defrosting. Boy! Does he look good. I just can't wait to smell him cooking away in the oven. I just know there's a few turkey scraps with my name on it.

As a retriever, part of my job is to carry things around. Sometimes I carry pillows, clothes, shoes, etc. Other times, I get a little daring, and latch on to gardening clippers and tools, cooking utensils, dishes, even a chicken planter.

If I can get it in my mouth, I will try to carry it. I was pretty good at taking things outside when I go, like some of my toys, throw pillows from the sofa, and other goodies.

Tom and Donna, however, have been discouraging me from doing that. So, most of the time I just carry the item to the door, and then, drop it. Once in awhile I sneak something outside.

Once I spent the week at the Barndt house, when Tom & Donna went to the beach. I had a great time running around their house with something called a "bra." I really don't know what it was, but they thought it was pretty funny.

Recently, I thought I'd help myself to some dog food, and carried the scoop around the house. That didn't work.

Also, this morning, I thought I'd do a little shopping after breakfast. So, I grabbed a coupon and a pen. Just in case I needed it. Turns out I didn't.

Ripping up pieces of paper and cardboard is another fun past time of mine. It can make quite a cool mess. The only problem is, that usually means it is time to run the vacuum cleaner, and I hate that thing.

Well, like I said, I have a lot to be thankful for. I am sure there are a lot of other dogs waiting to be adopted. They don't have it as good as me!

Happy Thanksgiving to one and all. It's time for another nap!

Woof! Woof!
Stanley

Now that's funny...

Boy! Am I in a good mood! I don't know if it was that chicken I ate, the walk I had, or the romp I had over in the neighbor's yard. Something feels good, though.

Then again, maybe it was the joke I heard. Here goes...

Three labs were sitting in the Vets office. (Did you hear this one?) There was a Chocolate Lab, a Yellow Lab and a Black Lab.

The Yellow says to the Chocolate, "What are you here for?"

"I'm a pisser," said the Chocolate. "I piss on everything. I piss on the carpet, on the furniture, the laundry, the floor...everything. Today, I pissed in the middle of the owner's bed."

"So, what are they gonna do?" asked the Black Lab.

"Give me Prozac, I guess. The Vet says it's good for everything," he replied.

"What are you here for?" the Chocolate Lab asked the Yellow Lab.

"I'm a chewer," he replied. "I chew shoes, clothes, papers, remote controls...you name it. I chew it."

"What do you think they'll do for you?" asked the Black Lab.

"I guess I'll get the Prozac, too," responded the Yellow.

"How about you?" they both questioned the Black Lab.

"I'm a humper," he admitted. "I hump the cat, the kids, the guests, etc.

"This morning, I tried to hump my master when she was bent over after she got out of the shower," he added.

"That's bad," noted the Yellow Lab.

"Prozac, for you, too," commented the Chocolate.

"No, I'm here to get my nails clipped," he said sheepishly.

Well, I hope you don't mind my little joke. Now, it's back to my nap.

Woof! Woof!
Stanley

About that diet...

As mentioned in one of my earlier entries, Tom & Donna feed me a lot of raw food. Mostly, chicken, but sometimes I get other cool things to eat.

I like almost any kind of meat, and I do love peas.

On one visit to the Vet, way back when I was just a little pup (actually, I was never really little) I overheard Dr. Waldeck tell Tom & Donna that raw food was much better for me than the processed food.

She pointed out that us canines survived for thousands of years in the wild eating raw food. We didn't cook a rabbit or a pheasant on a campfire. Not that I would pass up a nicely cooked bird! Remember Donna's chicken dinner that I snatched? MMMMMmmmmmmmm Mmmm!

Most people are afraid that their dog will choke on a chicken bone or something, but I heard that we only have a problem if the bird is cooked. Then, the bones may splinter. Raw bones aren't a problem.

I just wish I would find a wishbone, so, I could wish for another piece of chicken. Mostly, I just get the legs and thighs. Not that I'm complaining.

Humans also have a thing with bacteria, etc. Us dogs are built to handle that. Actually, some of the crap they put in dog food would really make you barf.

Just to prove my point, I googled dog food and came up with this gem:

"Meat products not intended for human consumption, such as inedible tissues, condemned portions of carcasses, and entire carcasses of condemned animals (eg, animals found to be dead, dying, disabled, or diseased at the time of slaughter), are also used for dog food. Because of the inherent nature of these products and the less stringent handling requirements, compared with products approved for human consumption, these products may contain high levels of bacterial contamination." (LeJuene, J.T. and D.D. Hancock. 2001. Public health concerns associated with feeding raw meat diets to dogs. Journal of the American Veterinary Medical Association, 219(9): 1222.)

Not fit for human consumption, and they pass it off to us bow wows?

Talking about barfing...

Actually, some people put their dogs on the B.A.R.F. diet. That stands for Biologically Appropriate Raw Food. It might make humans barf, but it makes me bark!

Donna says the raw meat is actually cheaper than buying the big bags of processed food. She says I also seem less wired when I am not eating the regular dog food. Just fill my dish twice a day. That's all I ask.

Well, I wish I could say all this talk about food has made me hungry, but actually, I am feeling a little woozy. Time for a nap!

Woof! Woof!
Stanley

You can never have too many toys...

It's like the kids say, "You can never have too many toys." I agree with that.

The first toy I remember was a stuffed "Simba," The Lion King. It looked a lot like me, and I carried it everywhere I went.

One day, I was left alone all day, and I wasn't too happy about that. Sadly, "Simba" got shredded into little bits, and is probably rotting in a landfill somewhere. I miss that guy.

Tennis balls and other toy balls are child's play. Oh, I like to play with them, but their life expectancy with me is probably under three minutes. Even the "Tuff Balls" and the so-called indestructible balls are no match for me.

I have had my share of stuffed animals over the last few months: dogs, sheep, teddy bears, chickens, squirrels, etc. Most of them came from the Goodwill, and most of them are history.

Currently, my favorite toys are: my puppy dog (that looks just like me), a moose, a chicken, a frog, a Taco Bell dog, a pumpkin and a white teddy bear.

Sadly, the moose has just one antler, the frog is missing a leg, and the Taco Bell dog looks like he had a hernia repair. He used to talk, too. Guess the cat got his tongue. He was kind of annoying when he talked, anyhow.

These guys are hanging in there, though.

I also have a hang-up with leashes and collars. I have been through a bunch of each. Donna got me a cool one with peace signs on it, and I am on my second one. It's a good thing they are guaranteed for life. I can chew 'em up and spit them out.

I had a blue one, an orange one, and two leather ones. Gone, gone, gone and gone.

Now, I have this big, bulky, fat, black leather collar with a matching leash. It looks like it belongs on a horse. Maybe, it does! Actually, Donna had it made by a Master Harness Maker in Amish Country. Don't worry, I'll work on it.

Rubber bones, raw hides, pig ears, yuck! Give me the real thing. Give me a big, juicy, meaty bone from Green Dragon. Now, that's something to chew on.

When you're done, all you have to do is hide it under a sofa cushion for later, or bury it in the yard. It's like a bone in the bank!

Dog treats and biscuits are okay, but give me real food any day.

Well, I don't know how we got from toys to treats, but I'm getting hungry. I guess I'll go see what I can scrounge up, and then, it's NAP TIME!

Woof! Woof!
Stanley

Oh say can you see, by the dawn's early light

Let me tell you how my typical day goes, for all of you who think that a dog has it so easy.

First of all, there's doing your business. Humans have the luxury of getting out of a nice cozy, soft, warm bed, and walking 15 to 20 steps to the bathroom.

Dogs, on the other hand, need to get someone's attention, get them out of that warm, cozy bed, and have them let us out.

I usually start around six am. I do a little whine. Then, I nudge Tom a few times with my nose. At first, it's a gentle nudge. I know he's trying to sleep, but I really need to pee. Gradually, the nudges get more persistent.

If that fails, then, I do what they call my dolphin jump. I jump up in the air on two feet. Some may call that a kangaroo jump, but they would rather refer to it as my dolphin jump. Sometimes, Tom starts singing the theme song from the TV show "Flipper." I don't know, that's well before my time.

Usually, by 6:15, 6:30, I get my wish, and run out to pee. Then, we come back in, and go back to bed for another hour.

That's another issue. They get to sleep in a nice cushy bed, while I get to lay on the old blanket on the hardwood floor. Of course, they did buy me two dog beds since I've been here, and I chewed both of them up, and pulled the stuffing out of them. But, I was sort of a puppy at the time. Don't I deserve a soft, comfy bed? Maybe Santa Paws will bring me one?

Around 7:15, the process starts all over again, but this time I mean business! About that time, I am getting hungry. So, it's not just time to go to the bathroom, but I need my breakfast.

When Tom finally relents, and gets his lazy butt out of bed, we can let the day begin.

After breakfast, I usually request one more tour around the yard. Just to make sure I didn't miss anything the first two times. It could be a smell or the scent of a rabbit or squirrel. There's bound to be something new out there!

Next, it's a coin toss. Too bad they don't make any three-sided coins.

First, I could get lucky, and we could go for a walk. Either up the road, and around the neighborhood, or we could take the truck to the soccer field or Nolde Forest. Occasionally, Tom needs his coffee, and we make a pit stop at Turkey Hill. No Dunkin Donuts close by.

Second option: Tom has to work on pierogies. That means the gate is closed, and I have to either take a rest or amuse myself. You know what that means...trouble, trouble, trouble!

The third option is he goes on the computer. I can see him from the other side of the gate, and I usually make an attempt to get his attention to come play with me. It usually doesn't work.

He doesn't know it, but it's for his own good. If I bug him enough he won't spend too much time on that thing, and therefore, he may get something done. (Psssst! Don't tell anyone, but Donna promised me a couple doggy treats if I keep an eye on him while she's at work.)

As far as the rest of the days goes, it varies. It could be playing with toys, chewing on bones, playing ball in the yard, or just a lot of napping.

Speaking of napping, it's that time again. See, this really is a tough job!

Woof! Woof!
Stanley

Another whacky day on the trail...

Well, today started out as another typical Monday. Tom & Mickey were busy making pierogies. That meant that I had to amuse myself all morning. Not really all that fun.

I was surprised, however, when after lunch Tom said, "Do you want to go for a walk?" My ears, perked. I did my little dance. I was all set.

We didn't leave right away, though. First, he had to find his keys. Then, his cell phone. Then, who knows what else. Finally, out to the big truck and we were on our way.

This time we went around to the back of Nolde Forest to the parking lot at Fire Gate # 3. We followed the Coffee Pot Trail to the Stanley Trail. About 30 yards up the trail I found a nice pile of doo doo, and I rolled in it. That was great, but Tom was not a happy camper.

From there, we hiked up the Boulevard Trail, and at one point, Tom had to grab me by my collar because a white mini van drove down the trail. According to Tom, it was driven by a lady from the State Parks Dept. That was the first time we ever saw anything like that.

We suppose she was checking out tree damage caused by that snow storm a couple of weeks ago.

Shortly after seeing the white van, we reached the highest point in the forest. It is probably close to 1,000 feet up!

Several hundred yards up the trail, we found a large tree laying across the path, and we also noticed some tire ruts where the lady in the white van must have gotten stuck while trying to turn around.

Further down the trail we found a really cool spot. The map called it a rock outcrop, but to me it looked like just a really big rock.

There, I felt like Simba, the Lion King! After I had climbed the top of the summit, I stood there proudly, and looked out upon the valley below.

We made our way down the Boulevard Trail to the Watershed Trail. There were a lot of fallen and uprooted trees. There were several places where the trail was blocked by fallen trees.

Finally, when we were nearly back where we started, I found a nice muddy, swampy area that I could romp around on the Watershed Trail. Just the dirty, smelly mess I needed to complete my ensemble of my earlier roll in the pile of poop.

When we left the woods, Tom buckled me in my seat belt, and it was home to take a bath.

He claims I needed it from head to toe. Whatever. I don't mind it, though. The best part is running through the house and shaking off after wards.

Nothing much else to report. Took a nap. Ate a little dinner. Now off to watch the tube.

Woof! Woof!
Stanley