Theo

Theo spent the day at the office. He showed up with a housewarming chewy bone which was generous. I reciprocated by lying quietly in the corner while he got used to the space, which I would've done anyway, but he doesn't know that.

I learned this afternoon that Theo's a ball dog and a pretty good one. I'm a frisbee dog, myself. Like with cheese, I prefer wheel-shaped.

The Wheel Meaning of Christmas

This year, I got a racoon doll, an indoor frisbee, a 'world's greatest dog' sign and a perfectly-spiced chewing bone. I also got a taste of Dan's pulled pork, a few of Gramma Christine's potato latkes and a quarter of Milo's cheese omelette.

But the best gift was coming across this guy, with no feeling below his ribs, out for a morning walk on a beautiful day.

Happy Merry to all, especially to the person who came up with the Walk 'N Roll.*

*If this isn't the contraption's name, it should be. 

Zigzaggery

This is the rug in Milo's room. It's probably my favourite non-king-sized-bed surface in the house. That honour used to go to the white bear-skin carpet, but then I had a dream I was being chased by a polar bear through the Plains of Abraham and now it kind of freaks me out.

The pattern makes me a bit dizzy every time I look at it, which is why I try to keep my eyes closed when I'm on it. The downside to that, of course, is that I can't prepare for the swat I inevitably get from Milo. I know it's meant to be a gentle loving pet, and it's not that it hurts, but it can be a bit jarring when I don't see it coming.

Now, I know what you're thinking: "Why don't you just lie on your back with your eyes open so you don't see the carpet, but you can still keep an eye on Milo?" Short answer...I can't upstage the boy with cuteness in his own bedroom. That would be wrong. But in my bedroom*, all bets are off.

* it's so cute that Dan and Tiia still refer to it as their bedroom.

Eating after 8

I eat very well during the day. I can pretty much guarantee that Milo'll toss at least a bit of his food on the floor. Dan and Tiia actively discourage this behaviour, which I think is selfish. It's not like they have pick it up with me around. And whille flinging food rather than eating it might not be the best way to approach lunch from a growing boy perspective, it's two enthusiastic paws up from me.

I've been secretly hoping that D&T do a bit of dinner dropping themselves, but I think it's gonna be a while. Too bad, too. That salmon looks divine.

I'm not being replaced am I?

This is Marshall. He's a dalmatian that Milo's taken quite a liking to. I try not to be jealous, but look at his cool red fireman's hat! I want a red fireman's hat. I have a red Santa hat, but it's not the same.

I learned that Marshall was part of Paw Patrol. I wonder if there's room on the team for me? They already have a German Shepherd (Chase the police dog), an English Bulldog (Rubble the builder), a Cockapoo (Skye the high flyer), a Lab (Zuma the water rescuer), a Husky (Everest the mountain climber) and even a mixed breed (Rocky the handyman). Certainly there's room for a French Water Dog. I could bring the je ne sais quoi.

Dear Pope Francis...

The other day, you said you believed that God accepted all dogs into heaven. Tell him Cairo Kelly's on his way and to break out the good treats. Cairo was special because he had it tougher than most dogs I know but never complained. He just smiled. All the time. He set a good example for the Miles's North and South — the two kids with us in the boat.

You should also tell the big guy that Cairo was happiest on long hikes in the woods, so it'd be best to find him a home at a celestial cottage versus say, on a celestial beach, by a celestial field or next door to a celestial cheese farm (dibs).

Lastly, there's a guy named Brian who got up there not too long ago. Perhaps you could point Cairo in his direction. They'd make a good twosome. Trust me.

Your biggest four-legged supporter,

Maui Yurkenbaum.

It seems only fair....

Milo ate my food yesterday. It probably wasn't the first time and I'm guessing it won't be the last.  I can't say that I blame him; it's good stuff, that 6-fish blend.

And it's not like I haven't had a bite or two of his food – at least, whatever he's kind enough to drop for me. I wonder if he's been doing it on purpose? Like, greasing me up so I wouldn't mind if he ate out of my bowl? That would be crafty of him, wouldn't it? Smart kid.

A taste of things to come?

This is Tristan. I was at his house a few months ago for a playdate. He's got three sisters, but I bet they don't let him scratch their heads. They really should, though. He's a natural.

Milo's getting better at scratching my head, and by that I mean he's moved from yanking the hair on my chest to yanking the hair on my face. It's not the most comfortable experience, but if he winds up being half as good as Tristan, I'll take it for now. 

Besides, I've learned to make the best of this phase by encouraging face-pulling sessions after a meal. Dan and Tiia think I'm giving Milo kisses. They're so cute.

Photobomb

I don't mind sharing the spotlight, but I prefer a little head's up. I may have smiled differently, possibly done a bit of a pose.

I can't work like this.

Here What I Woke Up To

Mornings around here are usually pretty predictable. I open my eyes after a good night's sleep and find Milo in Dan on Tiia's arms, sucking down a bottle. Today was a bit different.

Consequences

Dan and Tiia moved my bed out of the bedroom and into the playroom so I wouldn't nap on the plastic tiles anymore. Works for me.

Interesting

A guy on the subway asked Dan if I was depressed. Strange, considering the grin I was sporting at the time.

Mmmmmilo

Milo's diet has been getting more and more diverse lately, which means mine has as well. This is me enjoying the remnants of a banana-flavoured Mum-Mum. Did I wish it was cheese-flavoured? Sure. But beggars can't be choosers.

Who's walking who?

We used to take Milo for a walk. How fast they grow.

I must say that, for a novice dog-walker, Milo was pretty good; enough tautness to feel connected, but enough slack to not feel constricted. That's a Gramma Christine thing.

New Toys

When I became a Yurkenbaum, there was no basement. Now there's a basent with a chalkboard and a fire station.

And the band plays on.

Ask The Maui Monster

Dear Maui Monster...

My people eat in bed all the time, but I when I try to jump up with a chewing bone, I get in trouble. I'm not a fan of this 'do as I say, not as I do' thing. How do I get what I want?

- Unimpressed

Hi Unimpressed.

Here's the thing to remember about your folks: they'll eventually cave. It may not be today or even tomorrow; but one day, they'll get sick of fighting with you and just let you have your way. Trust me.

I've heard that the hard part is waiting them out. I say this because waiting to get what I want isn't something I've experienced much as a Yurkenbaum. But if I was being forced to slow-play in your situation, here's what I'd do:

1. 

Bring your bone up on to your peeps' bed when they're out. Try to chew it as many places on the bed as possible, especially up by the pillow area so the smell of the bone starts to get into the cases. Some dogs will try to swallow a piece of the bone and drop a few farts around the bed to really push the bone smell. I see this as counter-productive. Do this for a few weeks, and try to do it with a relatively new bone. Old soggies will stain the sheets – big red flag.

Make sure you're off the bed by the time they get home. The last thing you want is for them to catch you on there in step one because you won't be getting to step two. 

2. 

Okay, so now you've subliminally acclimated your humans to the smell of the bone, it's time for the sight. For this step, while you're still going to hop on when they leave home and hop off when they come back, you're going to leave the bone on the bed.

This will get them used to picking it up and tossing on to the floor, without the image of you on their bed with it. They'll know you were on it, but this way is a bit more respectful.

It's around this time that your people may catch on and either take away the chewing bone (bad) or close the bedroom door when they leave (so much worse). It's the chance you take when you want to alter their behaviour. Some ways to mitigate include walking nicely next to your peeps for while (or even prancing if you can); making sure not to eat any chicken bones, old spaghetti or whatever else you may find on a stroll. The more agreeable you are, they less likely they'll say no to anything.

3.

Now comes the moment of truth. Plan to jump up with your bone at night when they've already been in bed for a while reading or watching TV. You want them awake, but too comfortable to want together out of bed for anything. The best situation (believe it of not) would be if one of your peeps was adamant about you taking your bone off the bed and the other didn't care. As soon as you can divide them, you win. This, by the way is true for everything you want.

Good luck! 

Story Time

Once upon a time, there was a cute dog named Maui who ruled his kingdom from as far as the eye could see. His two subjects, Dan and Tiia, would cater to his every whim. If he wanted to go outside for a walk, they took him. If he wanted to sleep in their bed, they let him. If he wanted a treat before dinner (even two treats), they were more than happy to oblige him.

Maui was the envy of all his friends in the dog park. He'd prance into the scrum where the other dogs were madly running around as if they hadn't just been on a two-hour walk. And why wouldn't they have been? Didn't all dogs get to live that way? As it turns out, they didn't. He learned that when the big people brought a little person home, the family hierarchy, as one wise golden retriever in Trinity Bellwoods noted, was disturbed.

"Maybe for others," thought Maui, "but not for me." He wasn't sure how well his buddies had trained their people, but Maui had his wound pretty well around his dew-claw. Even Tiia, who took a fair amount more work than Dan to convert (that is, more than 45 minutes), was 100% devoted.

Yup. Life was good for Maui. Very good.

And then, with no warning, Prince Milo showed up and everything changed. All of a sudden, Maui went out when Dan and Tiia had time. When Maui wanted a treat, he had to wait until Prince Milo was fed. And changed. And played with. And changed again. And put to bed. And most of the time, Dan and Tiia were too tired after that to remember the treats. As for sleeping in the bed? Maui still did that, but there was far less room once Prince Milo decided he didn't like his bassinet anymore.

As you can imagine, none of this sat well with Maui. He had worked too hard over the previous seven years to be dethroned by this crying, pooping thing that was making a claim for his spot in the bed. Not one to take things lightly, Maui sprang in to action devising a plan to banish Prince Milo from his kingdom.

He knew that violence wasn't the answer (Maui's a lover), so building on the principles of Ghandi and Mia Farrow, he decided to stage a hunger strike. What he didn't take into consideration was (a) he was a grazer so his hunger strike went unnoticed and (b) how hungry he got when he didn't eat. This plan was clearly a loser, so he moved on to his next scheme: aloofness.

When Dan, Tiia and Prince Milo walked into a room, Maui decided that he'd leave the room. That would show them. Again, he underestimated his love of chin scratches and full body rubdowns, which he could still expect from the person not holding the baby. Drat.

Next on the strategy list was indifference. He'd stay in the room, but look away. The problem with this was two-fold. Firstly, it was a bit difficult to look away from Prince Milo (he's pretty cute). Secondly, Maui had gotten so used to responding to his name that he couldn't stop. Heck, he'd turn if Dan or Tiia called out something resembling his name. 'Howie' got him a few times. So did 'mower'.

Maui had run out of ideas. But then something magical started to happen. Prince Milo stopped being a blob and was turning in to a little person. And he took a liking to Maui. This presented a few very exciting opportunities for the dog that once had it all but now felt like he had less. Prince Milo was slowly becoming a new friend; but more importantly, Prince Milo was growing in to someone Maui could train...like he did with Dan and Tiia. If he wanted a treat, Prince Milo could get it. If he wanted to go out, Prince Milo would take him. And as for the sleeping. he knew Prince Milo would be getting a new bed soon enough, which meant Maui would be getting a new bed soon enough. It had been a while.

Maui decided that what was best long term was to stop fighting the new addition and embrace it instead. Best. Decision. Ever.

Sure, he doesn't get to walk they way he used to. But he's too tired for that anyway. And yes, he still has to wait for treats. But the wait makes them taste better.

And as for the bed, now that Prince Milo's got a little kingdom of his own down the hall, Maui's back safe, sound and sandy with Dan and Tiia.

The moral of the story, Prince Milo? There's always someone willing to give you cheese eventually. Ahem.

Sticktoitiveness

Dan now takes sticks away from me in the park when I start eating them, as if he thinks I can't find another one.

I think he does it because he's never tried one for himself. He really should. I keep offering sticks to try, but he thinks I'm asking him to throw it for me. One of these days, he'll get the hint. 

Me and the TTC

If you've never sprawled out on your belly while riding the subway, you're missing out. It's like a gentle body massage. Well, gentle most of the time. In and out of St. George is a bit bumpy. It's a good time to flex up. I might start planking it. My people have started planking. They're cute.


Here are five things I love about the riding the TTC:

5.
Rita, the lady who calls out the station names. She's so thorough. "The next station is St. Clair. St. Clair Station." One day for a hoot, they should swap Rita out for a Jamaican lady with a thick accent. Like Grampa George's nurses. Sint Cleere Steeashun.

4.
The drumbeats on my head. Dan likes to play along with whatever he's listening to. Sometimes, I try to guess the song. The other day it was Waiting For a Star To Fall by Boy Meets Girl. He secretly loves it. Don't tell anybody.

3.
The people. Even the grumpy ones. Especially the grumpy ones. Not to brag, but I've turned a few frowns upside down in my day. I've also gotten super chin scratches and head rubs from total strangers.

2.
The new subways. The best is when it's empty and I can see from one end to the other. Sometimes I wish Dan kept a tennis ball in the bag so he could whip it down the corridor for me. Maybe I'll find one in the park if the snow melts.

1.
The dream of one day sprawling out on my belly from Steeles West to Kew Beach.

Sharing a moment

I love snuggling with Milo after he eats. It has nothing to do with the sweet taste of baby formula on his clothes. Seriously.  I've noticed that Dan and Tiia have started giving him jarred baby food. I wonder when he'll start eating cheese? I anticipate prolonged snuggles when he hits that phase.

Time to think

I didn't leave the house yesterday. Well, that's not entirely true. I didn't leave the property yesterday – Tiia did let me out into the backyard a couple of times. I like referring to our property as 'the property'. It makes me feel so aristocratic. I'd be a good aristocrat. I think I'd want to be a Duke – all the benefits of royalty but without the responsibility of a King or a Prince. Who needs that kind of trouble?

It's supposed to snow again tomorrow. I'm prepping for another indoor day. It's a rough life.

He's mesmerized. And who can blame him?

Milo has learned to focus his eyes and now he can't stop staring at me. I wonder what his favourite quality of mine is? I bet it's my ears. Everyone likes my ears. One day he'll be big enough to pull at them like Dan does. I wonder if he'll tie them in a knot like Dan does? I wonder if Dan will ever figure out that I don't like it when he does that?

On the other hand, Milo could be staring at my nose. It's a cute nose, I've been told. Milo's got a cute nose too. If I had to say whose nose was cuter, I'd have to reluctantly say Milo's. Although, by the time he's old enough to read this, his nose will most certainly look different, whereas I'll have the same cute black button.

No, wait. It's gotta be my eyes. They're soulful and human-like. Dan says they make me look like a boy wearing a dog costume. Maybe Milo is a dog wearing a boy costume? Wouldn't that be something?

Brrrrridge

Here's the thing about my people – they're generally not afraid of taking a walk in the cold. Even the little guy gets bundled up and comes out.

There were a few days during the polar vortex 'situation' that we stayed in (backyard bio breaks notwithstanding). I could tell that Tiia felt bad about it. I'm not sure why. I didn't want to brave the elements any more than she did.