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Archive for the ‘puppy’ Category

Pupdate – Oct 10, 2008

Shameless recycle of yesterday’s update images, but here’s Zoe.

I tossed her “chew blanket” over her crate and she grabbed one corner to pull it off and run with it.  It was snagging on a corner.  She stops, walks to the other end of the crate, flips the snagged corner over the edge, and goes back to pull the blanket off.  She is no dummy.  I wouldn’t have thought of it.

Click the pics to bigger ’em.

Sausage Dog

Zoe On Her Chew Blanket

Little Miss Innocent

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Grab Bag O Imagery

Well, I promised a pic of Zöe with the hot-pink sausage-dog toy thingie.  So here’s me, LK, and the pup.

I’m guessing that Obama would like to do this to Biden.

I’m not naming names but I know someone who owns a Pampered Chef business and I LOVE their stuff.  Luckily I get to use a LOT of their stuff.  Some… meh.  Some of it just doesn’t meet my standards but that is because they’ve made some items too safe.  But other things like the garlic press and the utensils – oh yeah.  And baking stones… droool.

So anyway, I was thinking “pampered” and how it’s kind of a funny word, and as I broke it down it changed form to “pimpered” and I thought again (twice in one night, ow) that maybe, just maybe this would be a funny twist to the idea.  It’s a work in progress.

That is it for imagery tonight.  I thought I’d have time to try a few more ideas for fun but I had to work so it just didn’t fly.  Sorry.

Techno Update:

And if a portable high-lifetime bacteria/virus water filtration system with carbon filters isn’t teh cool, I don’t know what is.

This doesn’t really make me feel any safer.  Now I feel threatened by my government.  Correction:  Now I feel MORE threatened by my government.

What is your first – and I mean FIRST thought when you view the image here?

We only have the smallest of reprieves and ultimately our government intrusion will be a moot point. CERN won’t kill us until next springWe’re all gonna DIIIiiiieeeeeee. Someday.

Our sun is a bum. It does nothing.  And it begs for rides and favors.

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Pupdate.

Today you get a puppy update. Pupdate, get it? Yeah, I knew you had.

Let us start off with a bang…

GirlHead and Pup - Privacy Preserved

The pup did experience massive barfage on the ride home.  I expected that it could happen.  Hot pup, excitement, and car motion.  Man, that’s about as risky as vodka and peach schnapps with a sorority girl.  Not quite.  but getting there.  At least in this case we weren’t talking about a liquid panty-peeler (and the pup has a 30 IQ point lead).

In case you wondered, Zöe is pronounced ZOH-ee  (the J and X are silent letters).  The wife always pictures the sheriff’s blonde daughter in Eureka and I picture the kick-butt black gal in Firefly (no one could carry that part off as well as she did and look great doing it).

An attentive reader (Weasel, she pities me) noted:

Decided to stick with a Z theme, did you?

Well yes, Weas, I did go with the Z name even though we dropped Zola.  Why stick with the “Z” theme?  I don’t know.  I was throwing out names as the pup was throwing up and the wife threw some out and I heard Zöe and said “Hey.  I like that.  It’s cute, it’s tough, it’s easy to say in a bad neighborhood… Yeah, Zöe… and add the SpeedMetal Ümläüts™ over the “o” and yeah, it (sort of) satisfies my original desire for a german name… no, not really, but… oh hell.  We’ve reached a truce, me and the wife.  We spell it Z-O-E instead of Z-O-E-Y, but she insists on leaving out the Ümläüts™.  Fine, but I’m still going to use the Ümläüts™ because I like ’em, so THERE.

Too Tired to Eat

Too Tired to Eat

Last night her crate was next to me (Zöe’s crate, not the wife’s) – I sleep on the couch on account of my neck – and she did whine quite a bit.  My answer was to dangle my hand down next to it so she could smell me and then fall asleep.  Neither of us got loads of sleep last night.  Which is why I kicked back the recliner today, draped a blanket across me, and laid her out on my chest full-length.  Just a few minutes later and we both passed out.

Strangely, or not so strangely I guess, when we both woke up she had a much different outlook.  It was like her little “Trust Him” switch got thrown and she started relaxing around the whole family in a big way.  In no time at all she, Cruel Wife, and both Lemurlets were all chasing each other around the yard.  She’s investigating the house and scoping out all the wonderful things to chew on.

Here I’d like to point something out… She has not piddled or pooped in the house once.  When I let her out and say “Go do your stuff” she runs to the back corner of the yard where I first encouraged her to “go”, and for her other tricks, 50% of the time she sits when told to and likewise for coming when I call.  Not bad for one day.  It is so weird.  Awesome, but weird.  Granted, I take her out every 30 minutes to an hour, and I praise the dogsh*t out of her every time she so much as sprinkles the grass, and she goes out after each meal or large water drinkage.  She will have accidents and she will also be a handful, but I’m encouraged by the start.

You’d think I was committed to training her or something.  I am I am I am SO committed to raising this pup to be a credit to her breed.  She’s very intelligent and very affectionate, even at 8-1/2 weeks.  It is the wife’s hope (and mine too) to possibly enlist her help to visit kids and the elderly in the hospital/nursing-home environment.   So far she has the right temperament.

Someone... play with me... or I eat the carpet.

Currently she is wide awake and begging to be played with… more later…

… and I still have to work tonight.  Oh boy.

And she just barked her first bark.  Uh oh.

***

And for the bad joke of the day… sent by a friend of my dad’s – bad bad bad (yuk yuk):

Hey everyone,

I have 4 extra tickets for the Robbie Knievel daredevil event in Philadelphia next weekend if anybody wants them.  As you know, Robbie Knievel followed in his dad’s footsteps and is one of the greatest daredevil jumpers of our time.

At this event, he’s going to try to jump over 5000 Obama supporters with a bull dozer.

Please let me know by Friday…..

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And the Pup’s Name is…

… is going to come out in it’s own good time.  In a few minutes.  Indulge me.

We left here at 8am.  Cruising singlemindedly down I-96 to 696, up 75, and through 300 miles of red lights and annoying traffic, we finally arrived at the farm.

The farm was laid out as hospitals and churches can be laid out – with no part appearing to the untrained eye as if they are related in any way.  So we looked around while the kids did this electron orbital cloud thing about us, never ceasing, never pinned down.

I had some sort of stomach thing going on from some chinese food I ate last night so I begged off to use the bathroom before going to see the mother dog and our puppy.  From my side of the 700 year old dual bathroom’s thin walls I could hear Cruel Wife shriek “No nononono-NO!  YOU NEVER PUT YOUR HAND IN THE TOILET!  YUCKY!”

Ah, so the boy had followed the wife into the latrine.  Heh heh heh.

Anyway, sometime later after I had waited an appropriate interval, we all trouped on down to the office where they had the dogs.  There was some loud industrial crushing equipment or ore pulverizer machines going in the back room so I had trouble catching much of what was said.  It would have been better had I just put in totally sound-deadening earplugs because even though I have moderately bad hearing loss, the recruitment issues mean that loud noises actually hurt me WORSE than people with normal hearing.  Yeah, go figure.

I nod encouragingly every so often even though for all I know she is telling me about her gender reassignment surgery and her induction into the Church of Rooster Worship.  She seemed satisfied so I didn’t want to upset the boat.  Then the pup was brought out (previously known as Zola).  I held her and within minutes was completely smitten with her and pretty much wouldn’t share her with anyone.  It was bad.  Cruel Wife knew I wanted a dog but she had no idea the magnitude of my yearning for a dog.  First 20 years of my life there was pretty much a dog around all the time.

So Zola comes out and is shivering and panting and more than a bit sweaty.  She’d lost a lot of litter-mates in the last few days and was pretty wigged.

We signed a sheaf of papers that would make a mortgage lender blanch and got her registration papers and health paperwork and pretty much got a swat on the butt and sent on our way.  We got complimentary donuts and cider but I wasn’t having any of it.  I sat on the grass with my dog.  I kept saying it to myself, and it was pathetic:  “My dog.  MY dog.  My DOG.  MY DOG.  mY dOG. … ”  Well, you get the idea.

30 years later the kids and the wife finish their goodies and time kicks into it’s normal pace again.  Powdered sugar hangs in the air and crumbs tumble to the grass in slow motion, and the kids have these glassy stares and smoky expressions.  The wife, having completed her maternal duties of feeding the offspring – hungry or not – is satisfied and we leave.

We get in the SUV (doing my part to help terrorism, apparently) and start down the road.  Five miles down the road, I notice that she is frothing at the mouth a bit and suddenly horks up a HUGE wad of puppy chow.  I remember thinking that she must’ve gotten the same chinese carry-out that I did.   So this wad of wet puppy chow boils over my flannel shirt on my right arm, onto the arm rest of the door, into the door latch mechanism, and makes this sickening plop on the floor.

Crickets did not chirp, they barfed in sympathy.  Me, I held my own.

Well at least we got that out of the way!  Not unexpected, and  I console her and tell her it’s all right and that she couldn’t help it.

Just as I got all settled in again she started stiffening up and straightening out then leaning forward and blew approximately the same amount of chunks onto my wife’s flannel shirt (I was prepared this time).  It cascaded over the shirt and ran onto the floor.

Crickets heaved weakly.  Me, I held my own.

Oh, it’s ok, pup.  You can’t help that you are hot, scared, and in a car.  It’s ok.

Coming back to 96 via 696, she horks up again with very little warning all over my lap.  On both legs from crotch to knees, my hands, forearms, and onto the floor. Her toenails were fighting for position with her tail to decide who was going to come up next.

Crickets burped bile.  Me, I fought wave after wave of nausea as I smelled her stomach acid and something else.

She felt all better after that and went to sleep next to me, between me and the console.  Me, I continued to fight wave after wave of nausea.  Crickets vacated the premises.

We arrived home 2 hours after we left the farm and put out water and food.  She was surprisingly in very little distress and didn’t seem all that interested in water or food.

She’s slept a LOT, drunk some water, peed a bit, did her #2 in the yard.

And she frolicked in the grass with me, chasing me around and around the yard.

I present to you:

Zoe

Zöe, nee Zola, at rest this afternoon.

***

Update:

This was such a cool idea, it seems a shame to ruin it… musical highways.

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P-Day

Less than 24 hours to P-Day.

Zola - Sept 19, 2008

Zola, The Quiet One - Name May Change

We pick her up tomorrow.  Can you believe it?   A real live honest-to-goodness DOG.  Sorry, PUP.

A lot of folks are not really familiar with the breed, so here is a link to give you an idea of just what English Shepherds are.

Examples of Adult English Shepherds

I’m so excited… first thing I think of getting up and then every 5 minutes thereafter.  Our cat was fine and all, but he was a cat.  Dogs don’t care what you do… run in the road, jump into icy water, crawl through mud, brave certain death… as long as you do it together.

With cats it is like “Uh, I’m outta here – have a nice life.”  And that is 20 times a day.

A few good dog quotes…

Heaven goes by favor. If it went by merit, you would stay out and your dog would go in.
– Mark Twain, a Biography

A dog is not “almost human” and I know of no greater insult to the canine race than to describe it as such.  – John Holmes

Dogs have given us their absolute all.  We are the center of their universe.  We are the focus of their love and faith and trust.  They serve us in return for scraps.  It is without a doubt the best deal man has ever made.  – Roger Caras

Dogs feel very strongly that they should always go with you in the car, in case the need should arise for them to bark violently at nothing right in your ear.  – Dave Barry

When a shepherd goes to kill a wolf, and takes his dog along to see the sport, he should take care to avoid mistakes.  The dog has certain relationships to the wolf the shepherd may have forgotten.  – Robert M. Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

***

By the way – am I the only person who, upon hearing “Arrrrr!” one more time today, is going to crush that person’s vocal cords with a violent wedgie? Pirate day is cute for about 15 minutes but repetitive “ARRRRR!” everywhere you go is annoying as hell.

After seeing a number of people that I know and respect post Pirate Day™ topics, I want to qualify my stance – I’m referring to people in the hall, or in my office, or sending e:mails with “Arrrrr!” in them.  By going to someone’s blog I’m implicitly saying “I agree to whatever you are posting” but at work?  At work I’m forcibly exposed.

Plus, you ought not take me too seriously today.  Yesterday was a pain day that vicodin didn’t touch and I’m really out of sorts today.

… Don’t forget to look up “toad aficionado“, for the discriminating toadlicker.

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Pup Chosen!

Well, the new member of our family will be little Zola, who you have not seen yet.

(many thanks to the IP-challenged Weasel for linking in my puppeh)

She sounds like a wonderful match in temperament and as I said appearance counts less than personality for a new K-9 family member.  But she looks beautiful and I’m in love already.

A name?  Don’t know until we have had her a few days and then I was pondering something out of greek mythology that was appropriate or perhaps german.  Of course it’ll take a huge debate (and Girlhead already has a number of intestine-knotting suggestions.  Eeek.)

Zola, The Quiet One

As described to me by Cruel Wife:

She’s a little bit smaller than the others, very outgoing and affectionate, but doesn’t as much of the active/high-strung tendencies as some of the others.  I think (the breeder) put it that Zola was a little more reticent or cautious in a new environment until she familiarized herself (compared to rushing in and checking everything out straight off the bat).

Update: After many names like Ms. Floofypants and Cutypants, I’m putting my favorite in:  Exxy.  Short for Exsanguinator (exsanguination – look it up).

NO, I wouldn’t really do that.  Jeez.  I like Allen’s suggestion in the comments though.

Update (non-pup):

Is there no oversight at all?  Gov. Officials Probed About Illicit Sex and Gifts.  Get it?  Get it?  PROBED.  Oh, that’s rich.  It’s also disgusting.

BIDEN: ‘HILLARY MIGHT HAVE BEEN BETTER PICK THAN ME’… Yikes.  When those are your choices, things are grim.

Dems:  Somebody shut them up before they keep shooting themselves in the foot.  Repeatedly.  May I note that only in a rare few circumstances are reporters focusing on platforms and issues?  I know, hard to believe but true.

Carol Fowler – “I clumsily was making a point…”   Really?  Whodathunkit?

Classy.  Really classy.  Good p-shop tho.

Steve Cohen, likening Obama to Christ (Obamassiah) and Palin to Pontius Pilate

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