It's all in the eyes

It's the same story every evening at dinner: Dan swears he's not going to give me a taste of whatever he's eating, I flash "the look", he caves and I win.

Yesterday's big win a was a taste of chicken pot pie from Loblaws, which I have to say is some of the best I've had. I think it's the crust that makes it — so flaky and wonderful. It's so good, in fact, that I don't even mind its cheeselessness (new word).

Back to sleep...eagerly anticipating tonight's victory.

Turn your head and coif

I've heard rumblings that I'll be going for a haircut soon. This displeases me for a few reasons.

Firstly, I hate going to the groomers. And that's no reflection on the groomers I see — the ladies at Spaw Boutique are lovely and they do a great job. It's that my hair is my essence and what draws attention to me. And right now, I have to say that my curls are looking pretty cute. I got two compliments from people at the dog park, and the attention of a young golden retriever who thought I was the cats meow.

Secondly, and more importantly, I'm really digging the accidental ombré I've got going on right now. I say accidental because it was a de-skunking gone wrong back in the summer. Dan left the peroxide solution in a bit too long and before I knew it, I was stylish.

But, on the flip side, I am feeling a few knots on my belly that could use some brushing out. Maybe Tiia'll do it tonight. To be honest, I could use the attention. Between Milo's mentalness and Noah's neediness, getting a bit of Maui love is proving more difficult that I had anticipated.

Ahhhh...

It's nice to be back in my bed. Of course, I mean Tiia and Dan's bed, which is really my bed that they think is their bed. It's cute.

This isn't to say the last days have been a hardship. Yorkville life with Pat and Ashley was kind of awesome...as was 10 days sans kids.

But then I got home, got an ear yank from Milo and all was right in the world.

The Mane Man

Dan says I look like a black lion cub. Can't argue with him today. Roar.

7:19 am

I'm hanging out with morning people for the next 10 days. It's a little different. We were back from our walk before 9:30. At home, 9:30 is usually when I'm dreaming about my 10:45 stroll.

I've heard rumours that Dan is trying to become a morning person. I've also heard that he's actually an alien from the planet Zazzdooks. Hard to tell which is less believable.

Maui Mobster

I'd be a great hit man because no one would see me coming. They'd be all like 'oh, what a cute dog...what breed is h..." BANG!

Of course, the lack of thumbs eliminates a gun as my weapon of choice. And a knife is also out. Rope? No. Lead pipe? Candlestick? I didn't think this career choice through. Although, on more than one occasion, Tiia thought a fart of mine would kill her. So perhaps a half brick of marble and 25-40 minutes can be my weapon of choice? I could be known as Agent Orange. Rick James could play me in the movie.

Hello!!!

Sometimes I need to assert my existence. I've tried barking, but I get drowned out by the sound of crying children — incredible given how strong my lungs are.

So I've resorted to sticking my face in Dan's crotch. I think he likes it...and really, why shouldn't he? I love putting my fave in my own crotch.

Meh.

Ask The Maui Monster

Dear Maui Monster...

The nighttime routine is getting stale. Same walk route. Same walk time. Same 30 minutes watching Jeopardy! How can I get my people to mix it up?

Love the blog...

Bored Beagle

Dear BB...

Can I call you BB? Guess it doesn't matter much now. I'm sorry if you didn't like it. Gramma Christine used to call me MauMau. It wasn't my favourite, but I let her get away with it because she was a trooper when it came to walking me in the rain. And I liked pretending I was a Chinese dictator with a stutter.

But on to you, BB...there are a few things you can do to influence a change in behaviour:

1. The Dead Stop

This is where you get to a cross street and just (you guessed it) stop walking. If your people keep walking, let them. They're never going leave without you, even though they pretend they might. When they come back, stay like stone until they move in the direction you want to go. Be sure to be sitting, though. I find that if I'm standing, my peeps are more likely to throw the leash back on.

2. The Covert Click.

When the TV goes on, grab a seat on the couch and, more importantly, on the remote. Wiggle your body so you change the channel, but don't make it look like you're doing it. Also, don't make it obvious by switching to a show you clearly like. Instead, use the CC Moment to introduce your peeps to something new — although, I'm not sure why you wouldn't want to watch Jeopardy! 

3. The Droplets

If you want to go out earlier, all you have to do is let a few pee drops slip. The key here is placement. It has to be visible, but you don't want it to close to your stuff either because...well, because pee. I'd recommend the front hall, by the back door or next to your people's bed. That last one's a dangerous spot as your peeps may fly off the handle a bit. But if they keep it together, you'll be on your way.

I'm sure there are more, but I'm going to go to to sleep now.

Auntie Becky always gets my good side.

Seriously...she should be my personal photographer. I haven't been feeling too well lately, and even so, she nailed this shot. Look how well she captured my poof. 

And...poof.

Click Clack Mau...A Dog That Types

This is one of Milo's favourite books. I think it'd be much better if it was about me. My problem is that I have no leverage. I need to figure out what I could hold back to get what I wanted. Actually, first, I'd need to figure out what I wanted because, let's face it, I get pretty much whatever I want from Dan. Treats? No problem. Cheese? Sure. 80% of the bed? Check.

I would also need an impartial somebody to deliver my demands. Like the ducks in the story. Maybe Milo will do it for me? We have a rapport now. It was touch and go and first, but we're homies. The other day, we took him to foot bridge and I showed him the exact place Tiia fell in love with him. One day, we'll mark it with something special, because I haven't marked it with anything yet. Honest.

I'm done being subtle

Walks have been hard to come by since Noah showed up. I mean, it's not like we never go out, but what used to be three hours a day has been...shall we say...drastically reduced. And I've been accommodating — I force myself to sleep more during the day, I ration my food and water to keep the bio break requirements to a minimum, and I've even learned to convert my poo into farts (mind over fecal matter). The downside of course, is that the house stinks for the peeps, but let's face it, with eight diaper changes a day, it was gonna stink anyway.

But sometimes I have to take a stand by taking a seat at the door. And what does Dan do? Takes a picture. It's the curse of being cute.

Maui In The Middle

I'm best suited for the meat position of a park sandwich. My fur is soft and pleasant rub up against, and my grip is gentle yet firm.

I think Dan thinks this is some sort of sex thing, as if he forgot about the 'procedure'. It's okay...he forgets a lot. This summer he forgot my cool walking bag somewhere, and now I have a lame bag. But it's better than no bag. And we're right back to the 'procedure'.

Thankfulness

It's not so bad being third banana when this is the tree I get to live in. Is that cheesy? Yup. But it's 2:40 in the morning and the tryptophan has sapped me of my cleverness so I'm happy with sappy. G'nite.

Mmm...cheesy.

Dinner Party Season

Normally, I park myself beside the table, look cute and wait for someone to give me a piece of salmon (it's Dan's go-to). But tonight was pasta and salad, so not really worth the effort.

Turns out the couch was the perfect spot to take in what turned out to be quite a lively debate. Not sure who won, but I learned that in Kashrut law, 'food' is defined by whether or not a dog would eat it.

By that definition, Tiia's red heels are food. Just saying. G'nite.

Au revior mon ami

Jackson and I always got mistaken for each other, even by our peeps. And from the this picture (the last one taken of him) you can totally see why.

Obviously, we had our differences. He was a poodle, I'm a French Water Dog. He ate when the food was there. I eat when I feel like eating. He ran like a little lamb skipping through the meadow. I run like a....well,  I don't run enough anymore to complete this simile, but you get the idea.

We had regular visits, Jackson and me, mostly centred around dinner parties. He'd host Thanksgiving, Valentine's Day and Spring Fling. I'd host Mmmarch, Cinco De Milo and, of course, the Yurkenbaum bashes. The show'll still go on at his house, but now Tiia and Dan will have to remember to bring my food, which is too bad because I liked Jackson's kibble. A lot.

Jackson, as you get settled on the farm, please save a spot for me so we can confuse the man upstairs as well. Fun for eternity.

Playa To Be Named Layta

This is my new little brother. He doesn't have a name yet, which is very un-Yurkenbaum. Both mine and Milo's names were picked before we were each adopted. Milo's was a joint effort between Dan, Tiia and Milo's birth mom. I can only assume mine came from a different kind of joint effort. I think I suit my name very well — sometimes I even suit up to suit my name.

Milo was notably unimpressed when this playa came home today. I get it — and I don't begrudge. It was the same for me when Milo got here. One day, you're top banana, and the next you're in the caboose with nothing but memories of the way it used to be when there was no screaming, crying baby diverting attention away from the two people most likely to give you cheese.

But then I taught Milo how to give me cheese on his own. It's still a work in progress, but I'm following the steps and seeing results. Next up: teaching Milo how I like to drink water in the park.

Lebensraum

My daily needs are few. Seriously. Give me a walk twice a day, room temperature water, the occasional chin scratch and marble cheese (No Name is fine) and I'm happy.

But at night, I demand...no, check that...I require ample space to stretch out. If that means Dan or Tiia has to hug the edge, then so be it.

I've heard rumblings that my time as king of the king-size are numbered — something about another Yurkenbaum en route. If it's true, I'm excited to have Milo for commiseration —  he'll know what it feels like to get knocked down a peg like and we can game-plan a strategy for relevancy.

It was hard doing it on my own the first time. I need a sounding board. I tried with Kai, and even with Kaitoo, but their advice was for the fishes. Kaitrey's showing promise so far.

Definitely something to meditate upon from bed central...tomorrow morning.

Well, that was unexpected

Yes....that's grey hair.

Not what I was expecting to find after my latest groom. All the more reason to never get groomed again.

No, seriously. I hate that place. Okay, hate's a strong word. I love the people there but I really hate the grooming. Especially the nail clipping. Although Milo appears to hate that too so at least I don't suffer this issue alone.

What was I talking about? Grey hair, right. Maybe I'll be too old one day to remember I have grey hair at all. Silver linings I guess.

And...bed.

Little Kickers

I went to Milo's soccer game today. Not exactly what I imagined after watching the last two World Cups, but entertaining nonetheless.

Turns out Milo's pretty good at this. I take some credit for this: he's been kicking me fairly consistently for the last year and I've never once ask him to stop.

I was less than thrilled when he got this sticker after the game. 

Kinda feel like I'm being replaced. I've heard through the grapevine that I should be getting used to this. Hmmm..

Hombre

I got skunked the other day. Again.

Dan and Tiia had to do the hydrogen peroxide/baking powder/dish soap rinse. Again.

It got the smell out. Again.

But this time they left it in a bit too long and now I'm sporting this stylish ombré look.

I've been told I'm "au courant" which, being a French Water Dog seems appropriate. Except that since it's mostly on my back, I have to take people's word for it. And I do, because people have no reason to lie to me. Except for Dan when he said I'd be able to join him in the boat. Son of a gun.

Dearest Kaitoo

You were a good fish. You spent most of your time nestled comfortably in your reed; a different lifestyle than your predecessor, but a fine way to live just the same (I'd spend all day in bed if I could).

Your passing, while sad, was not in vain. You helped us give Milo his first lesson in mortality.AS you can see, he took the news well and waved you off. I would have done the same but my arms are legs and don't work that way.

Das Maui

This has become my go-to nap spot on the main floor. It used to be the kitchen floor, but now that Dan and Tiia are sweeping it every day, it doesn't offer the same rewards.

It tends to get muggy in there in the summer. I described it to Dan as a hot box. He giggled and said that was ironic. Not sure why.

It was a massacre

This was Vernon. He was named after a character in A Home For Bird, one of Milo's favourite books. Russell The Sheep is another one of his favourite books. I've never had a stuffed sheep before. Perhaps the peeps will bring one home for me soon. Or barbecue up some lamb for Milo to feed to me. I'm easy.

Vernon's limbs were his best quality because they made him flingable. This made him great for the Main Floor Chase. On the flip side, it made him bounce less easily, which made Basement Free For All pretty much impossible. Shame then that that's where he shuffled off this rock. Death by irony.

Maui Toys

Dan and Tiia call my stuffed animals Maui toys. Who knew there was actually a company called Maui Toys. I know now, because Milo has one of their balls. And I have to tell you, it's definitely his best one. You should see how high it bounces.

I wonder if Maui Toys is interested in creating a line of stuffed animals – more specifically, a line of cute black stuffed French Water Dogs. If that grumpy cat can make it, why can't I? Or should I say we, Maui Toys?

Come on...look how cute it'd be.

Before & After

I like to wait until Dan invites me up on to the couch. Not because I'm being polite, but because I know he will. He's good like that.

The best is when he invites me into his king size bed, mostly because it implies that it's not my bed already.

Charles

Charles is a racoon Dan and Tiia brought home a while ago. I was surprised at first, given the way they feel about actual racoons. Maybe they secretly wanted to live vicariously through me ripping his stuffing out? I get it, but I couldn't do it with Charles. He's just too perfect the way he is.

I have high hopes that Charles will say something other than squeak. He's got a tongue. I know this because it's permanently sticking it out at me. Maybe I should teach him to speak the way we taught Milo?

The Maui Method – Getting a Baby to Feed You

0-3 months

Start by licking your little one's fingers when you can. Do it gently so as not to scare them, and NEVER do it when they're sleeping. You don't want to wake them up, but more importantly, you want them to be aware that you're doing it.

Also, don't stick exclusively to the hands or your people will know something's up. I recommend going to the hands 65%-70% of the time.

4-12 months

The baby'll be fully alert and learning at a geometric rate. So this is the time to show them the right way to give you treats. That means getting your people to do it in front of the little one. That means it's best behaviour time — all the time. 

I'm not gonna lie, it'll be tough to keep your composure. On the one hand, you're going to feel very much knocked down a peg at home, and you're probably going to get out for walks a lot less (say goodbye to the evening stroll...for now). At the same time, the baby's going to be climbing all over you, yanking at your ears, poking you in the eye and occasionally smacking you in the face. But you have to power through and show your people that you're happy to take it for the team. They'll be extra generous.

Just remember to pick your moments. Don't get greedy and try for treats when the kid's not in the kitchen. And when you get your treat, try making eye contact with the baby so they feel part of the transaction.

And keep the finger-licking going. You can even let them feel your teeth.

12-20 months

This is where you'll start to see results. The kid'll be eating good food like cheese strings now, and tossing a significant amount your way.  Best part: your people will love you for cleaning the floor.

Park yourself near the high chair and give the little muncher a target to aim for. If a morsel comes in your direction, do something fun to get it — make'em laugh. It goes a long way.

20-24 months

You've been licking their hands for a year and a half. They've seen how you like being fed. And they know you'd gladly take what they don't want. It's time to make your move.

The key is waiting for them to make the first move. It'll look they're about to throw something, but then they pull it back and gaze over at you. Walk — don't pounce — over to them and wait for them to put their hand in the right position (they know what it is). Then gently reach out and take it.

And just like that: your life changes forever.

Ask The Maui Monster

Dear Maui Monster...


I like my name, but I hate the nickname they have for me. I've been protesting by simply not responding, but I'm missing out on treats as a result. Any other suggestions?

Rocky — aka Rockerific (???)


Hi Rocky...

That's a tough one. I can't personally relate to your dilemma as I've been happy with all my nicknames. My latest two are my favourites: Milo calls me Manya, which I like because I think sounds kinda Yiddish, which I like because it lets me get in touch with my Jewish roots, which I like because I love cheese blintzes. And just last weekend, my friend Isabelle started calling me Meowi. That's her and I together at the cottage  last weekend.  People call her BeeBo. Now that's a nickname.

But I digress.

Non-responsiveness never works for the reasons you've already discovered: you're the only one who's going to miss out. Instead, you need to go in the opposite direction with overt defiance.

Next time they drop a Rockerific, raise your leg like you're about to pee. Don't actually do it, though — no need to find yourself back in dog training. Just threaten. Do that four or five times and they'll start to get the hint. It's Pavlov's people. Look it up.

T'eo

This is Theo. We spend our days together at the office. I guess you could call us colleagues. But we're becoming friends. He's younger than I am and always itching to horse around. He's got good technique for a pup. He goes for the legs forcefully but never maliciously. And when he chews on my year, it's gentle. Like a massage. But wetter.

The other day, Dan dropped the ball big time with Theo's mom, Gina. I've been doing what I can to make it right by giving Theo a bit more leeway than usual. Today, I let him eat my breakfast. Then Gina gave me some of his food. That was nice of her.

Looks like Round 59 is about to begin. Back in a bit.

This is what winning looks like

Dan and I have been playing the same game for years: he puts out my food, I don't eat it, he eventually tosses some cheese in the bowl.

Sometimes it gets hard to hold out, especially after a long walk. I've come with a strategy to get me through the hunger pangs: naming off my favourite cheeses in alphabetical order. I've never had to make it all the way to Zwitser, but I'm fairly confident I can do it.

End scene.

My Chefs for the Day

Yurkenbaum Summer Fun went yesterday. It's the first of three annual parties Dan and Tiia throw. This is the one where different people take control of the barbecue and I chill out by the grill.

Patrick kicked it off with cheese quesadillas and chicken shish kabob. He said the quesadillas were for the kiddies but I know they were for me as a subtle hosting gift. Well played, sir.

After Pat came Brennan and his organic cheeseburgers. Brennan was Cairo's dad. I got to be Cairo's wingman at a few parties in his backyard. Back in 2012, Cairo taught me the wink move where you wink at a person just before they give you a bite so they're more inclined to give you a second. Brilliant.

Vanessa went third with a rack of tangy short-ribs. I was disappointed at first because of its cheeselessness, but I got over that quickly. It was probably the tastiest plate of the day. I think it needs a name, though.  I'm throwing Scarlet Shorties out there. Vanessa?

Dean took control next. Dean's a legit grill master, and proved it with South African Boerewors sausage. I actually got the very first taste of the day as Dan (predictably) sent a piece flying off the plate as he was cutting it. 

But Dan redeemed himself later in the night with a second round of burgers and dogs, and then a midnight rack of ribs which seemed like a good idea at the time. And it was. At the time.

All in all, another successful garden party. Thanks to everyone who came out, and a special thanks to everyone who shared the love. You know who you are.

Maui in the Lions Den

There's a lot of Detroit Lions gear in my house. Like, a lot. There's even a little Lions pin on my walking bag. Our team colour is Honolulu Blue. Dan says that's just coincidence, but I know it's not. When you say "Maui" every day of your life, it influences your other decisions.

Dan wasn't a Lions fan when I met him. He liked the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. The way he tells it, when he started liking football, he picked the worst team he could find as his own and count on the law of averages to eventually deliver him a Superbowl. It took 16 years, but it happened! And then it was time for a new broken-down bandwagon to join. Enter the Detroit Lions.

And Dan picked just the right time to jump aboard. Little did he know that the team was about to have the worst season in the history of the league. I remember him watching the games that season. You'd think it would have made him angry, but it didn't. He'd just smile. "The law of averages," he'd say to me. "You'll see."

That was seven years ago. Nine more to go. Maybe dogs will be allowed to go to games by then? Ahem.

It’s never too late to start again

I started blogging a while ago for fun. Then life got hectic and I stopped. That was silly of me because while I was doing other things, bloggers all over the world have started making some serious cheese doing it.

I want to make some cheese. Well, to be more specific, I want to make some money for Dan so he can buy me cheese.

I think what I need is a starting goal. And here it is:

Dan wants to go to London on November 1st to see his Detroit Lions play in Wembley Stadium. It’s also his birthday weekend. I’d love to get him there.

That’d certainly be worth a block of Gruyere. And maybe a costume like this guy?