I HATE My Dawgs

...this morning, anyway.
At 3:45, something startled Boo. It was probably a nightmare, but whatever the cause, she ran into the living room and started barking.
Ben, ever the vigilant guardian, honored her alert and started barking from his position of sleep in the master bath and continued barking on his journey through the master bedroom, down the hall, and into the living room.
Tip, raised his sleepy head from its resting place down by my calves, and asked the canine equivalent of, "HUH?" Then finally jumped off the bed and joined his elders in the living room to see what all the hullabaloo was about.

The Dearly Beloved, thinking it was almost 6 am and knowing he had set his alarm for 6:30 [ so as to be on time for a match today] got up and said, "Ill let them out, I have to get up at 6:30 anyway." I opened one eye, looked at MY bedside clock and gave him a harsh newsflash, "It's a quarter to 4 !!!" But, being the Sweetheart that he is, and a Man of his Word, he still got up and let them out. Of course, after he locked the door behind them, he jumped back in bed.

So, I got up and let them back in 5 minutes later, after they had assured themselves that there were, if fact, no intruders, monsters, or creatures about the premises that required the showing of their fierce fangs and awesome bravery. Since the Dearly Beloved had turned on the kitchen light when he let them out, my night vision was now shot. I sat in the darkened living room, with only the lights from the power indicators from the 'puter, cable box and smoke detector and the street lights filtering through the trees and curtains. After a few minutes, my eyes adjusted and I could walk down the hall and into the bedroom with ease. I mean, really, we've lived in this house since the Spring of '04. It's not like the rooms shift alignment or I move the furniture every week.

Now, I'm back in bed, we're all snuggled up, gettin' nice and comfy, just about to drift off to sleep again, Gawd's in His Heaven, all's right with the world. Ben sounds the alarm. Quickly followed by Boo and Tip. The Dearly Beloved yells at them to "Hush." Barking continues. I, being more impatient and more profane than my spouse scream, "Shut the F*** UP!!!" Neither the obscene word, nor the near hysterical tone of my voice has any effect on their desperate canine cries that they MUST be allowed to go outside RIGHT THIS MINUTE!!!

Resignedly, I throw back the covers, grab my pants and shoes from the floor where I dropped them [ala Lazarus Long] and make for the back door. I thoughtfully close the bedroom door on my way out so that the Dearly Beloved can enjoy another 2.25 hours of sleep before he arises and goes off to compete in yet another shooting competition. [Do y'all see now why he adores my a$$?]

When I allow the dawgs to reenter the house, in the dark, cold hours before dawn, I look each of them in the eyes, making sure I have their complete and total attention. "I certainly hope NONE of you had plans on sleeping during the day today," I tell them, "I am going to make sure, as I go through MY sleep deprived day, that y'all don't get any of your oh so frequent naps. There will be hand clapping, there will be loud music, there will be much frenetic 'Mama Dancin' ' designed specifically to keep y'all awake throughout the day. If you're going to wake me up before 6 in the morning, THIS is what YOU can expect".

Do I think they understood a single word of what I said? NO, pf course not! They are smart. Well, Boo and Tip are, anyway. Did it make me feel better to harangue and threaten them? HAIL Yes, it did. Just ask my chirrens. Tellin' them all the dire, terrible, horrible, no good, very bad things I was goin' to do to them was half the fun of the punishment. [for me, anyway]

Crazy Canine Candid Camera Night

Somehow, we have let the Dawgs, well the BOYS anyway, take toys outside. I think Tipper Sharpton has been burying them, frankly. We simply cannot find them. My theory is that Ben smuggles them out in his gigantic maw. He can easily hide a "squeaky" ball from Petsmart in his mouth and jowls, with no effort atall. The smaller Nylabone brand Rhino cones that were supposed to be for Tipper, but wound up being shared toys, those would be easy for Ben or Tip to smuggle out.

Why is Boo not a suspect in these canine capers? Because my Sweet Boo Girl would NEVER do something bad like that. Besides about the only this she ever chews on, besides the occasional softball cover, are the cardboard tubes for paper towels or toilet paper.

So anyway, after reading about the Bad Cuz brand squeaker chews over at Bad Dogs I bought a small one today for the Tip Baby. And as soon as I made it squeak, the battle was ON!



Tip has it! And he's almost under the table with it. He thinks Ben can't get to him under the table.





But,Wait! Ben is making the Cuz

go "squeak,squeak." He must have
stolen it from poor Tip when it
bounced out of his mouth.

Below, he makes his approach...



He fakes left...







And, He successfully recovers the Cuz!

It went on like that for a couple of hours.



THEN, I got down on the floor with them, for these shots. Thanks to the Dearly Beloved for handling the Camera so I could be in the pics!



Why should Tipper sit on the hard floor when
Mama's belly is soooo much softer?
What may not be evident is that he's trying to nuzzle Ben's
ear, tryin' to "sweet" him outta that squeaky Cuz.



So, I roll over to protect my belly. He just sits on my back! Ben still has the Cuz, BTW.

Boo decides she wants no further part in any of this...her eyes, which really are gorgeous, the left one is ICE blue and the right is green, always wind up looking Werewolf Red in pics. I think that's why she doesn't like having her picture taken.



That's tip's head blotting out my face.










Tipper looks like he's being all submissive and relaxed, doesn't he? Well, he's NOT. What he was doing was oochin' his way towards Ben and using his front paws, once he got close enough, to try to bat the Cuz out of Ben's mouth.
This bothered Ben not a whit. You see in addition to a "Tail o' Destruction" Ben has "Jaws o'Death". I would really like to measure his bite strength someday, just to see how many pounds per inch [?] foot [?] he actually exerts when he's chewing on something. This dog took about 20 minutes, I didn't actually time him, to chew a Booda toy for his weight into about 5 pieces. He has destroyed Kong toys. So far the ONLY toy to stand up to the JoD are Nylabone's Rhino series. They make a chew toy similar to the Kongs that he can't destroy. He [or Tipper] can bury them, but he can't destroy them.

Oh yeah, both Tipper and Ben can put their front paws on my shoulders when I'm standing. I'm 5'9". Kelly, although I don't think you can tell in these pics...when both boys are standing, you can see their last two ribs now. I cut their kibble by 1/2 cup per day and as active as they are the pounds melted off.

I hope y'all enjoyed lookin' at these pics as much as we enjoyed takin' 'em.

Why? Indeed!

Why choose a Precious Pet LifeGem diamond?

This question is part of the text on a page at www.lifegem.com. They will take the ashes, or hair, from your Beloved Phideaux, or Fee-Fee [if your a Doc or a Lawyer] and turn it into a DIAMOND! Don't believe me? Think I'm pullin' y'all's leg? Click on the link.

BUT, some one who will spend somewhere between $2699 for a .20 carat Yellow MAN MADE Diamond and [take a DEEP breath] $24,999 for a 1.50 carat Red man made diamond, from their dawg's [or cat's] ashes has WAY more money than sense!

And we're not even talking FLAWLESS man made diamonds, here, y'all. They practically guarantee these thing to HAVE flaws. In one letter I read, the Lady THANKED them for the flaws, after all, "He wasn't perfect." For 25K, I'd by Gawd and Greyhound want a diamond that was not only PERFECT, but would fetch the paper and attack on command! I'd want a diamond that was so dazzingly brilliant it would almost BLIND folks who GLANCED at it.

Oh, I forgot to mention, these prices are for UNSET stones. You still have to buy a mounting for them. Unless you were so ga-ga over GiGi that you're willing to unset GrandMa's engagement ring and put the hound's remains in that antique setting. Of course if you've got 25 thou to blow on a freakin' man made diamond from your mutt's, hell, even your Pure-Bred's ashes, you're not gonna be sweating where to come up with the cash for a mount for it, are y'all?

Now here's another thing to consider...you got your shiny new rock in it's shiny new setting, either on your finger, or on a chain around your neck so it can be close to your heart... aww, I'm tearin' up here. You're at a party. SOmeone notices your jewel, they compliment you. You thank them for the compliment and say, "Yes, BigBoy was the love of my life! And he always had a Red collar when he was alive, so when he died, I sent him to LifeGem and they turned his ashes into this gorgeous diamond for a mere $24,999! Now, I can wear him next to my heart until I die. Then he'll become a Family Heirloom for my Grandchildren to cherish." Can you just imagine the looks of admiration and envy you will garner from your friends and acquaintances?

Why, if I did that, my kids would have me before a judge and declared incompetent so fast it would take a week before my head would stop spinnin' And they LIKE my dawgs!

In fact, let this be my testament...ABG, Son, if I ever go off my rocker or any future meds on which I may be placed, and do something completely wacky like this, please, have me declared incompetent, before I squander any MORE money!