Preemptive Protesting

There are rumours of a back deck coming. This displeases me for a few reasons. Firstly, I like to be consulted on all home improvements, since I spend more time here than anybody. It was bad enough when the peeps decided to get the white couch they subsequently forbade me from sitting on — although I managed to wear them down on that one.

Secondly, a deck would rob me of my favourite backyard spot: the mud pit under the table.

At first, I thought about voicing my displeasure, but this new bark collar I now wear (story for another post) put the kaibash on that.

So, in protest, I'll be moving from the pit directly to the white couch as often as I can until this deck comes in. 

Booya.

A public service announcement

If you meet me on the street, I suggest that you scratch my chin in addition to petting my head. You'll get a much bigger smile from me, which'll make your day that much brighter.

Sincerely,

Maui

Dog log

I found this bad boy in the park the other day and carried it all the way home. I'm thinking if I bring enough of them back, Dan'll build me a doghouse. Then I watched him build an IKEA stool. I really should be bringing these to Uncle Peter's place.

Sad = Happy

I realized very early on in my life that I could use my sunny disposition to get whatever I want. More bum-rubs? Flash a smile. Longer walk? Flash a smile. Cheese? You got it...flash a smile. It never fails.

Lately, though, I've been watching how Milo and Noah (my baby bros) get what they want — and they take a different approach: they cry.

At first, I thought there was no way it was going to work on my peeps, given how prone they've been to rewarding happiness. Boy was I wrong. Crying gets them everything.

Now, I'm not one to mess with a good thing, but given my experimental nature (yeah, I drank a White Russian at a party one time just to see what it would do*), I thought I'd give it a try.

So for the last few weeks, I've been working on my sad face. It was tough to pull off given how unnatural it is for me, but I worked hard to perfect it.

I started by trying to fill my head with sad thoughts. Of course, my life's pretty charmed, so I had to strain to come up with a few.  I thought of friends no longer with us, like Wicket and Jackson and Ishii. That worked for a bit, until I thought of the big dog park in the sky and how they were all horsing around together, which made me smile. Dammit.

Next, I thought about how I was turning 10 this year. Surely, that would make me sad. But then that got me thinking about all the great times I've had over the past decade. Smiling again. Crap.

Ok, new plan. I had to think about something that had no upside whatsoever — something that could only bring me down:  never being allowed to see Bubbika and Zeddy's place because of their building's stupid no-dog rules. I thought about every time Dan and Tiia and Milo and Noah came home from there happy, and how I'd never be able to partake in the fun. Downside? Plenty. Upside? None. There. Sad.

I kept that thought in my head for two weeks. Every time something happy crossed my mind, I thought of missing out on the grandparent fun. It took dedication, but it worked. I had made myself sad.

I wasn't sure it was working, but then Lianne came by and noticed that I looked sad. Success! Now I had to test it. I thought I'd start with something small like a treat. It'd been a while since I had one, and even longer since I "convinced" the peeps to get me one.

Last Friday, my chance came when we walked by Bam! Dogwash and Pet Boutique. I knew this was my chance because we never go in there (even though I stop in front of the door every time). But this time would be different. I stopped at the door, looked back at the peeps and thought really hard about not being able to go to Passover this year.

And sure enough....

Bam! indeed.

* I ran around in circles for about five minutes, then passed out in the park. Good times.

Heart to Heart

Baby Noah: Why is Dad taking our picture?
Me: It's for the dogblog?
Baby Noah: The what?
Me: The dogblog. It's the story of our life together.
Baby Noah: Can you tell him to put the camera down and change my diaper? It's a bit ripe.
Me: I'll see what I can do.