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Happy (Freakin') Halloween from the Dog

The Day I Humiliated my Dog

Errands, we all have to run them, like it or not. I like them not, but having Webster along for the ride does make these side trips more enjoyable. And any opportunity Webster has to go for a ride in the car, no matter where the destination (excluding the vet's office, of course), he's ready, willing and standing at the front door. Today's destination: PetSmart. We needed to fill up on beastly supplies. After all, in addition to Webster, our family members include Mugsy the cat and Dustie the bird, whom, I might add, is one of the noisiest cockatiels you've ever heard. Honestly, it's a good thing that we live in the country and not too close to our neighbors. 

When we arrive at the PetSmart parking lot, Webster immediately is placed in a shopping cart (yes, he is spoiled in case you were wondering)!  He thoroughly enjoys shopping cart rides through the store, and he’s grown quite accustomed to being wheeled up and down the isles where we have to stop every so many feet so that people can "oogle" over him. Did I mention he is spoiled?

We walk inside and what do my eyes behold, but reds and oranges and pinks to behold. Yes, there they are all lined up with care, lots and lots of doggie Halloween costumes. Webster, beware!

The store visit went downhill from there, at least from Webster’s perspective. While I have no intention of dressing him up for Halloween and parading him up and down the street (I swear this is a very common practice in the seaside, upscale town of Carmel, California, just 45 minutes from where we live), trying on a hat or two was definitely in the cards for Webster. I couldn't resist, much to Webster's humiliation. And, to make matters worse, again, from Webster's perspective, I just happened to have my camera with me so that we could document Webster's my fun. 

Hilarious!  I laughed until I cried. 

For this, I am certain, at some future point there will be a follow up blog post titled, "The Day I Humiliated my Owner, Love Webster."

Happy Mother's Day from the dog

What a great day! I wake up to find Bill and the dog waiting for me in the kitchen, shit eating grins on their faces (really). A beautiful card was sitting on the counter top, with scribbling on the front that said, “Mama,” in sloppy writing. Who could this be from, I wonder? And who gets the little black and white box with the red bow? And whatever could it be?

It was wonderful Mother’s Day, beginning with breakfast (pancakes, eggs AND bacon). Bill sat on one side of me, and Webster on the other. Yes, Webster went with us, sitting like a perfect gentleman in his own chair.

I remember a very long time ago, a testy older woman, whom I worked with and, thank goodness, has since retired, was very upset with me over the fact that I celebrated Mother’s Day. Her complaint that "You're NOT a MOTHER" bellowed down the hallways and over cubicle walls. I was embarrassed, but only for a moment. I guaranteed her that I was the only mom that my 2 dogs would ever remember. She was not amused, but I reminded myself that it wasn’t my fault that her own children had failed to remember her on Mother’s Day. The way that I look at it is that I have more than cleaned up my share of spit up, poop and other bodily fluids from Webster's little indiscretions. I've been there through tummy aches, odd sicknesses from having put something in one’s mouth that didn’t belong there, bad dreams and even several trips to the emergency room (for which I have no insurance). While I know that I will never have to foot the bill for college tuition, I also know that I will always have a little one that will never graduate beyond his terrible two’s. And that’s perfectly OK with me. Father’s Day will be here before you know it and there will yet be one more opportunity to celebrate.

Peace.

Webster J.

It has been a long time since I have written in my blog and you may think it a very sad state of affairs that when I do choose to write, I write of my dog. On the other hand, there is a part of me that aims to please and I have been requested by numerous people, numerous times, to please publish new pictures of Webster.

Webster is a very popular dog. He is a people magnet. Rarely, are we ever able to wander in public without attracting people who, bless their hearts, want to know all about Webster.

Webster is a sweet dog with a happy disposition. He is quite the charmer. He is affectionate and enjoys being around people (more than he enjoys being around his own kind). He is delighted when people come over to say hello. Being that he is especially fond of women, he will never hesitate to take any opportunity to shower them with kisses. Bill has often said that he’s a “chick magnet,” but this is only a partial truth. We could tell you more than a story or two of grown men who have run over from across a room just to say hello and were not shy in the least about getting some kisses of their own.

Webster has a lot of friends at Felton Grooming where we have taken him for a bi-weekly bath since he was a puppy. Gail, the owner of the shop, tells us that people will call to ask if “Webster is coming in for his appointment today.” If the answer is yes, then there are others who will also have their appointments for the same day. On more than a single occasion we have had to disappoint Gail herself when, for whatever reason, we’ve had to cancel Webster’s appointment. I guess he is now the mascot of Felton Grooming, meeting and greeting everyone as they come through the door. This explains to some degree why his appointments for only a bath are an all day affair. He is dropped off by 10:00 am and we do not pick him up until after 5:00 pm, sometimes, 6:00 pm. Having said all of this I don’t know why it came as a surprise to me to learn that Webster has expanded his social calendar and very much enjoys visiting the hair salon next door. As I mentioned to you, he likes the ladies so you can probably picture a fluffy little dog visiting women during their appointments, handing out a kiss or two (or three …). So now I hope that you will understand why I have been asked to provide more pictures of Webster and why I felt it necessary to choose this as the topic for a long, overdue blog post. I can only hope, someday, to be as popular as Webster. I think it would be wonderful to have people so delighted by my company that they would call my house to ask if I am coming to work today because they can’t wait to see me. Of course, I will not hold my breath for this to happen anytime soon.

Below are some photographs of Webster taken while he was on vacation in Mendocino (and missed his grooming appointment).

Enjoy.

Peace.

Webster Turns Two

I admit that Webster, our dog, is more than a little spoiled. He’s just as sweet as he is cute, with a cheerful and loving disposition. As such, we never hesitate to take an opportunity to show him just how much we love him; how happy we are that he is a part of our lives. Coming home every night is a joy, for we are always greeted with enthusiasm and excitement. I wish that everyone were as happy to see me!

Webster turned two years old last week, on November 28th, and we celebrated with pizza and spirits, and a few games, including a game of frisbee, in which the frisbee was probably more appropriate for a dog the size of a German Shepherd!

Here are some photos of Webster enjoying his very first taste of pizza and NOT enjoying wearing a Sponge Bob party hat!

Dogs' lives are too short. Their only fault, really.

~Agnes Sligh Turnbull

Webster's First Enchilada

We were taking a road adventure today, but it took longer than I thought. In my book, I feel like dogs are people dressed in fur coats. When I was hungry and stopped for lunch, it seemed only right that I order my best freind something as well. I didn't feel right about eating in front of him, as he sat there demonstrating the patience and restraint of a saint, licking his chops, and looking up at me, but never once moving from his chair, or jumping up on the table. Hence, his good manners, devotion & friendship were well rewarded.

I think it's safe to say that Webster LOVES chicken enchiladas!

It's Hard to Be Mad

at a dog who, even after you scold him, leaves you his favorite bear on your bed pillow.

Puppy Love, Part 2

Patiently, he waits in the entryway only a few feet away from the front door. Anytime after 6:00 pm, he waits. There is no luring him away from the spot in which he waits; food, toys, a car ride …? Nothing deters him. He just waits.

Every so often, I’ll be out of town and I won’t come home. His waiting has been in vain. He sulks. He then moves his waiting to the top of the stairs, which provides a perfect perch in which to view the front door, but he sulks all the while. Sometimes he takes a break from intensely watching the front door, perhaps to drag his favorite persons photo bag to the top of the stairs and then over to the bedroom door. He waits there instead.

When the sound of the car is finally heard and there is the click of the door lock, he wiggles. His entire body wiggles and shakes, tail wildly wagging. There is nothing more important to him at this moment. If only everyone were as happy to see me!

From the first moment of our meeting it has been mutual love and adoration! When I picked him up from the airport and took him out of his kennel cage, I slipped him down the front of my shirt & held him (he was that little). I’m not sure why I did this (someone told me that it helps with the bonding process and I didn’t want to take any chances). He looked up at me, wiggled and licked me for a full 20 minutes.

My husband picked his name. As we found him on the web … Webster it would be, although we also call him by his nickname Pupa-licious (again, my husband’s creativity).

Webster is my shadow. He is never more than a few feet away from me at any given point in time. He sleeps with us every night on a stool at the foot end of the bed. The minute I say to him, “Are you ready for bed?” he will dash down the hallway to the bedroom, jump on the bed, or on his stool and look back, waiting for me to catch up. He knows goodnight hugs and kisses are only moments away. His morning ritual is to patiently wait until we rise, watching for the first sign of life; the opening of an eye, or the movement of limbs under covers. That is his signal to rush up, greeting us with the kisses that he has stored up all night long.

While he doesn’t perform tricks the way that many dogs do, he does understand phrases and what they mean. “Wann’a go for a ride?” means he’ll respond with a head-to-toe shaking and dancing, running down the stairs to sit at the door that leads to the garage. “How about a cookie,” you say, and he runs into the kitchen, patiently waiting by the cabinet that houses his cookies and treats. “Where’s your toy? Go get me your toy” sends him either to his toy box, or to run around the house for the toy of his choice, which he’ll bring back to you in hopes that you’ll play.

Doors and zippers are a specialty. He’s gotten into my purse, my camera bag, my duffle bag and my suitcase. Nothing is sacred. He doesn’t chew, or destroy anything, but he will drench the object of his desire with dog dribble (he’s particularly fond of clothing … but only mine). Did I mention that he’s now working on how to open doors?

Scolding Webster usually results in his pouting. If he knows you’re upset with him, he mopes. He’ll drop wherever he is, placing his head on his paws, just pouting and watching, waiting for me to “get over it.” Which usually isn’t a very long time, for one look at his face, and I melt like a stick of butter in the microwave. When I am sad, or shed tears, he will crawl into my lap and kiss away.

Webster is a charismatic dog, and quite the charmer. He turns heads, and stops people in their tracks wherever we go. It can often take quite a while to make our way down a single block, or to even make our way to a dinner table in a dog friendly restaurant. My husband & I have a running joke between us that Webster would be quite the “chick magnet” if my husband were single. But then again, men stop and “ooh and ahh” over him just as often as do pretty women.

The dog groomer we take Webster to is particularly fond of him, giving him pretty much free-reign of her shop. He wanders around, visits with the other dogs and greets incoming patrons. Should he have to skip a regularly scheduled appointment, the shopkeepers from other stores will ask when Webster will be coming in for a bath (the women from the hair salon next door, especially enjoy coming over to say hello, no doubt cashing in on a kiss or two). On more than one occasion we’ve been told that someone came in & asked if “Webster’s owners would be interested in selling him?” Of course, the answer is, and always will be, “No way!” How could I possibly part with a dog who has captured my heart, has helped me heal, cheers me up when I’m sad, makes long drives & vacations fun, and, most importantly, loves me no matter what?

We should all be so lucky to receive the unbridled love and loyalty of a dog. If people were capable of loving so fully and so unselfishly, like dogs and other animals, then I'm convinced that the world would surely be a better place.

Puppy Love, Part 1

It had been only 5 months since our Dog, Sophia, had died of a rare salivary cancer, and only 8 months since Katie, our other dog had been diagnosed with a brain tumor, forcing us to end her life. I was missing both dogs, and feeling like I had a huge hole in my heart that I was unable to plug.

It was a Sunday in February, and I was working in my photo studio, Animal Planet blasting in the background. A dog show was being broadcast. I missed my dogs. Before I knew it, I was surfing websites, looking at puppies. I’m only looking, I told myself. I thought it would be good to research dog breeds, for when we were ready for another dog. A Cocker Spaniel was out of the question. My husband was so distraught over loosing Sophia that I doubted we’d ever be able to own another Cocker Spaniel again. I began perusing the pictures of Lhasa Apsos in honor of Katie. Page after page … young puppies, older puppies, adult dogs. I knew that when the time came, we would need to get a puppy. After loosing 2 dogs in 3 months, we wouldn’t be able to go through this again anytime soon. Sophia was almost 15 years old when she died. We knew it was only a matter of days, and, bless her heart, she waited until 3 days after my birthday before she died. Unbeknownst to me, my husband had a “talk” with her the night before my birthday. “Please, Sophia, don’t say goodbye tomorrow. It’s mommy’s birthday. It will break her heart. Please hang on one more day Sophia.” And so she did. It was one of the best birthday presents that I have ever received and one that I never will forget. Sophia and I spent the entire day together, cuddling & napping and talking old times. I bathed her and I brushed her and I took what were to be her final pictures.

We weren’t certain of Katie’s age, because we found her on the side of the road, late on a Saturday night. She had a tag. The man that owned her didn’t want her, which was a good thing, because I didn’t really want to give her back. So when I asked him on the phone if he owned a little brown and white dog, and he asked me if I wanted a little brown and white dog, I was quite happy to say, “yes!” We guessed she was 9 or 10. Her previous owner didn’t know her age, because he had found her at an animal shelter. It was obvious by her condition that she had seen the worst of times. We had her for 6 years. Through all her ailments, health problems, and vet bills, our love never wavered.

And because our losses occurred in only 3 months time, only a puppy would do.

And then, I saw him! Jupiter was his name. There were 4 pictures posted. I printed them out and saved one on my computer screen.

I thought about the puppy on Monday & Tuesday. By Wednesday, I cold no longer stand it anymore. I showed two of my work friends the picture of the puppy. They squealed, “You better call on that puppy now before he’s gone. You’ll be sick if someone else buys him before you do.” Of course, they were right. So I called the Texas number and was greeted by a woman with a friendly, southern accent. I held my breath after I asked, “Is Jupiter still available?” “Yes. Yes, he is” she replied. “I want him,” I blurted out. Long story short, he was now on order. Once she received the money, she’d make flight arrangements for him to be shipped from Austin, Texas to San Jose, California.

How on earth was I to break this news to my husband? I had purchased a puppy without his knowledge, without first talking it over with him. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem, but he was still grieving, and I had no idea about how he would react. I felt excited. I felt selfish. I felt comforted that I’d have a puppy to pour love into, the love that I could no longer share with Katie and Sophia … but at that moment, I also felt queasy.

My husband took the news well. He understood my need for a dog. I understood his need for time to heal. We had agreed (HE had agreed) that what I had done was OK. My husband said he had a “feeling” when he saw me surfing the web landing on puppy sites. When he saw that I had actually printed out a picture of a puppy and it was laying on my desk, he was certain their was mischief looming on the horizon. When I saw him take that picture and pin it to his bulletin board, I knew there was healing on the horizon.

To Be Continued ...

In Loving Memory of Sophia and Katie