Sunday, December 13, 2009

Tuckerby the Steadfast

I prefer not to.

Go out in the rain, that is. Or snow. Or hail. If I hear even a molecule of precipitation falling upon the roof or dripping through the downspout, I’m in for the day.

Mom slogged through much of Melville, starting with Bartleby the Scrivener, and was fond of employing that antagonist’s signature line, so it’s fitting that I be influenced by him. However, I am not completely under his thrall.

Bartleby, if you remember, starved to death—his preference. I am stubborn enough to stand stockstill in the street even with Mom throwing pieces of ham in front of me, a la Hansel and Gretel (although the intent was to get me moving forward, not to retrace our steps, and thank goodness she didn’t bring bread crumbs). But I am not so pertinacious that I would refuse a meal on principle. Unless it were served out in the rain.

Monday, December 7, 2009

My new toy

I've had lots of fun playing with my new hedgehog toy. It's some sort of puzzle, right? You attack it, gnaw at it, then bite at it some more until you finally get to that squeaky heart. Now that I've completed the challenge and thoroughly investigated its innards, I'm done with it.

Friday, December 4, 2009

Extra lbs: more to love?

Here’s the latest word from the eminent Dr. S at VCA Westboro—shave off some of that poundage!

Wasn’t there something recently in the Times about how the company you keep affects all sorts of habits, like if you hang out with thin friends who exercise a lot, you'll start to be like them? Being a reverse psychologist, yesterday I took a hike with a new pal, Nenna. She’s a 2-year-old, like me, except that unlike me she is a Great Dane and 6 feet, 3 inches when fully extended—stretch limo length. And, she clocks in at 170 lbs. The way I figure it, she makes me look positively teeny!

To console myself after my ghastly weigh-in results (which were so alarming they had to be double-checked), I pulled out a few old notes from Kelly, who helps exercise me.

Tucker definitely has to be one of the smartest dogs I've ever met (and of course, one of the most handsome)
I like how everyone in the neighborhood knows his name and stops to talk to him on his walks. Despite his sneaky ways, he sure is lovable!!
He is a very unique dog. And very smart. (And very handsome).

Good times, good times.

We always zip over to Especially for Pets as an after-vet consolation prize. But this time,
instead of letting me snag some treats for myself, Mom made me pick out a new toy.

Monday, November 30, 2009

Dietary slip-up: cold pizza

So, the pizza was hanging out on the counter, waiting for Dad to pop it in the oven because Mom only will eat hot pizza...what a principessa!

I don't mind cold pizza. In fact, it was delicious.

Herein I detail my dietary slip-ups of the past month and hope that they haven't affected inordinately my restricted ingredient diet.

To wit:
1 rawhide bone, found on the street, in almost perfect condition. Not only nutritional, but you can play with it, too!

2 slices pizza with carmelized onions and fresh mozzarella (served cold)

1 or 2 milkbones scammed from my neighbor Hank (he loves me)

1 or 2 unidentified bones, also scammed, this time from the mail carrier (he's new and hasn't yet found my insistent charm to be annoying. The previous mail carrier, after I extracted my first bone payment, took to either 1) ignoring me or 2) avoiding me by turning down any available street just as I trotted by.)

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Another lousy report card

“Another lousy report card.”

That’s what Mom said last week when Dad arrived home. He thought she was talking about my sister. No such luck; she’s too good a student. C’est moi, again.


Each week my pal Kelly writes up some notes on our time together, with her deft, often humorous touch. But lately the reports have become gloomier and gloomier. Mom no longer brags to her colleagues about the depth and perspicacity of these missives, as she did when they were brighter and filled with laudatory adjectives.

Here, in confession, are some excerpts. Most of my transgressions have to do with my famed obdurate streak.

“Do you have any suggestions for when his stubbornness gets that out of control? More and more he has been trying to be the one in charge.”

“I literally had to drag him up the hill…but we finally made it back home with the help of a few milkbones…Right now he is out back, napping in his dirt pile. Hopefully I can convince him to come back in.”

“I dumped out all my milkbones and was pulling pretty  hard, but he was not budging for anything or anyone…Basically I dragged him around for a half hour…at least he used up a lot of energy pulling in the opposite direction.”

“He is giving me that look of ‘I’ve had a successful day so far and would like you to give me that bag of milkbones because I am awesome and in charge.’”
“Thank goodness it didn’t rain today! (That was the first thing I thought about this morning—whether or not I would be able to get Tucker to go outside!) Alas, it didn’t go much better today than it went last week…I had to stand at the bottom of the stairs and open and close the cream cheese container a few times before he considered coming down…We only made it one house down the road. I used milkbones to convince him to go about 50 yards further, but that was the best I could do. He refused to budge.”

My report this week actually was decent. Now that I’m on triple secret probation, Mom says it’s time to turn things around. She’s almost as stubborn as I am, so it's going to be quite a battle.