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?

Maui at Home with the Gosevii

The peeps and I used to have the same conversation every time they got an invite to the Gosevitz cottage:

Me: Can I come this time? I'm a great cottage dog. I'm cute. I'm quiet. I'll warm their hearts during the day and their feet at night. 

Them: We told them. No dice.

Me: Well, then out of solidarity, I think you should decline the invite. 

Them: Are you kidding? Have you seen their place?

Me: Really? 

I'm pleased to report that I have a feeling that I'm pretty sure there's a really good chance I'll probably never have to have that conversation again. Out of the blue, Mrs. G decided to let me join the Peacock Road party and it was everything I always imagined it to be: plush carpets to sleep on, warm wooden floors to lie on and a beautiful view to wake up to. I think I fit right in.

Now that I've been to this lovely home, I can see why Mrs. G was hesitant all these years. Mrs. G, you should know that I took the honour of being invited very seriously. I didn't hop up on any pieces of furniture, not even the super plush den couches. I made sure Dan wiped my feet down every time I came back in from the snow. And because I was sharing space with your beautiful granddaughter, I barked at every stranger who came to the door to make sure they were on the up and up. All good.

Thank you so much for letting me visit. It made my weekend. It made every one of those conversations with Dan and Tiia worth it. And it's given my mission to create a dog-friendly world a real shot in the arm. As Rocky Balboa said to the people of Moscow after knocking out Ivan Drago: if I can change, and you can change, everybody can change.

Snuggles

Milo's a cuddler.

It took a while for him to get to this point — a lot of ear pulling, the smacking-me-in-the-face phase and of course the day he took a particular interest in my back side.

He still pokes me in the eye from time to time, but I know it's out of love so I let it go. I'm hoping Dan teaches him to scrape off my eye gunk and feed it to me. And I really hope he doesn't find it as gobsmackingly yummy as I do. But then again, how could he not.

And...back to snuggling.