tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25841187046688151102024-02-06T19:13:47.433-08:00the tao of Q<br><br><br><br><br><br><br><br>TAKE ME TO THE DOG PARK OR I'M DRIVIN' MYSELFPathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.comBlogger38125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-60963839878420183502011-02-01T11:00:00.000-08:002011-02-01T15:38:59.746-08:00rescue me!They did it. They rescued a puppy. (Rescued from what? they never say. I need to figure that out) They brought him home. They are keeping him. I don't know what they are thinking.<br /><br />First of all, this is barely a dog. Scooter is bigger and Scooter is a cat. This "dog" has hair sticking up all over like they put him in a blender. He has to wear a coat...a coat!..because he gets so cold. Oh please. Mom has to comb him every morning so he doesn't tangle, whatever that means.<br /><br />Let me tell you something. I don't need a coat. I can handle the cold. I roll around in the snow and I like it! This little cat dog walks down the sidewalk once and starts limping on his poor little one inch feet. And I don't tangle, nobody has to brush me every morning. Just let 'em try.<br /><br />Now I have to say that this dog..they named him "Oliver", by the way..stoopid name, tries to play with me. But he moves around so fast you can't ever catch him. And when I do catch him, Mom says "Easy, Quincy" That's no fun. She never tells the cat dog "Easy, Oliver" when he is trying to climb on my back or waving those stoopid one inch paws in the air near my face.<br /><br />I'm training him, though. Mom bought us each some toys to tear apart and I keep taking his away, even if I already have one. I don't need more than one to tear apart, but I want him to know it has to be OK with me if he gets to have one. He doesn't get it yet. He just keeps coming over and taking it back, But I'll teach him.<br /><br />There is only one top dog in this house and it is not going to be one that is smaller than the cats and looks like he lives in a blender.<br /><br />This is me and the so-called "dog". Do not even think the word "cute"<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjVSQ1EhkW2qY3Bwbsz_gYWi4_qnthUg5Q2PWt2Qrys7by_z4ykswLgWnx5Za3QTuQLlhudeL-19mV82sdjHyrECG5WF6Vo7tKZzG5sBzES5n_7FrhERQJAC1Gg9Ft3qb4HZGnP0o7K9w/s1600/bffs.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 252px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjVSQ1EhkW2qY3Bwbsz_gYWi4_qnthUg5Q2PWt2Qrys7by_z4ykswLgWnx5Za3QTuQLlhudeL-19mV82sdjHyrECG5WF6Vo7tKZzG5sBzES5n_7FrhERQJAC1Gg9Ft3qb4HZGnP0o7K9w/s400/bffs.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5568869398856960962" border="0" /></a>Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-14346420585560949582011-01-18T06:20:00.000-08:002011-01-18T07:01:48.301-08:00my little secretSo, the Mom was reading an article about a dog who knows 1022 nouns. Big whoop. Aren't you curious about how I know that? I heard her talking about it. Guess I know a bunch of nouns, too.<br /><br />Here's the thing. You think we don't know a lot of words because we don't always run and jump and wag when you're talking. Wrong. We understand you, we just can't talk! This comes in handy, though.<br /><br />Like when the Mom asks Dad if he took the pillows off the bed. I open one eye to see if he's going up to check... <br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgunpWFNP6aJVNAZvN2DJX0aol-McvS4s40cWvoWwI822wZ4XV9afUVr-gwW0Dtq8MMifJkG_IPCyYgeD9ouwOmiesFGaLUjHOUlBu_gk1S9eQ-5OrXMzUOvzkJ3zyfF1v6pm_7BQkAh3E/s1600/quincy+eye.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 366px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgunpWFNP6aJVNAZvN2DJX0aol-McvS4s40cWvoWwI822wZ4XV9afUVr-gwW0Dtq8MMifJkG_IPCyYgeD9ouwOmiesFGaLUjHOUlBu_gk1S9eQ-5OrXMzUOvzkJ3zyfF1v6pm_7BQkAh3E/s400/quincy+eye.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563541167181493858" /></a><br /><br />then I slide off the couch and hide. I know I'm not supposed to eat the pillows but I kinda forget until after it's all over the bed like snow. The folks think I just know the word "pillow" on account of how often I hear it. "Quincy! You ate the PILLOW!" "Bad boy, Quincy, what did you do to the PILLOW?" Truth is, I know "ate" and "Bad boy" and "what did you do", too.<br /><br />This is how we hear: "RUSSELL, did you TAKE QUINCY OUTSIDE yet? He looks like he needs to GO. Maybe you could TAKE him to the PARK for a little RUN. We can EAT when you get back. WHere is his LEASH?" I know all those words, but some of them are like little bells in my ears. especially "park".<br /><br />So when I started hearing the word "puppy" a lot, I kept my eyes closed and just perked up my ears. Puppy can mean we are going to the park or it can mean there is a dog on TV and I have to do my run around in circles and bark at the screen to amuse the folks. They never get tired of it. But what they were saying was "Quincy! Do you want your own puppy?"<br /><br />Now I understood what they said but I couldn't believe it. So I started listening harder. I heard them talking about rescue and giving me a buddy and how the Mom would love a little dog that wouldn't pull her down the sidewalk. I felt kinda bad about that. I thought she liked it when I helped her go faster.<br /><br />So now I'm thinking about what this could mean. A few months ago Billy brought Ginger over to stay for a while and he brought this tiny dog over, too. Buster. Buster is smaller than the cats. He stared me down.Well, actually I guess he stared me UP. He was pretty low to the ground. I left him alone, mostly. He freaked me out. He slept on my blanket and growled when I gave him the signal to move. He stole my bone and wouldn't give it back. When Mom was giving out cookies, Ginger and me would sit pretty and wait and I would sit up and then this Buster dog would sneak in between us and jump on Mom's lap and everybody thought that was sooooo cute. Sure. What if I did that? <br /><br />Anyway, I just hope that if they bring me a puppy it isn't Buster. I need a puppy I can train.Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-21535588272653700812010-11-30T07:47:00.000-08:002010-11-30T07:57:03.878-08:00I'm famous!OK, I know I haven't been blogging lately, but I need the Mom to do the typing and she's been busy.<br /><br />I've also been in the time out corner a lot. I don't know why I eat pillows, but I know it's bad after I do it. So I put myself in time out as soon as the folks head upstairs.<br /><br />Then there was the butter thing. They should know to put the top on the dish right away. There are some things my nose tells me I need to eat. Butter and cheese come to mind. I live with vegenariums or something like that so I don't get meat treats unless they come in a box from the pet store. I get desperate. Then I get timed out.<br /><br />Anyway, I guess I was having a goodboyprettyboy day a while ago and the Mom took some pictures of me in the car. She thought they were so cool that she sent them into this TV station that shows cute dog pictures in the morning. And today they told her I was gonna be on!<br /><br />Well, she lets all her friends know and she puts it on facebook and so now I'm famous.<br /><br />So, if you want to read my blog from now on it will cost you some meat. Just sayin'<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLroabNme-aUHAZt2czdVnUFa5-ljRXIRcZODgxAHi6l4oZZm7yod41ck5iKQlu1bv5-MrY5ZrjDMWrAMlkrt6LSqWsK2IBsPGpGDTl5jCwB6P9opwJzJ6Fsxon_nILlnNmUQc8bx7_iY/s1600/Quincy.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 280px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLroabNme-aUHAZt2czdVnUFa5-ljRXIRcZODgxAHi6l4oZZm7yod41ck5iKQlu1bv5-MrY5ZrjDMWrAMlkrt6LSqWsK2IBsPGpGDTl5jCwB6P9opwJzJ6Fsxon_nILlnNmUQc8bx7_iY/s400/Quincy.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5545371957283335602" /></a><br /><br />Just leave it at the back door in a brown paper wrapper.Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-50783509848589962122010-04-24T05:23:00.000-07:002010-04-24T05:41:05.892-07:00watch out for the dancing giantI've lived in the city for a year now and I've learned a lot about people on wheels and other dogs using my yard and cars with loud screamers on top. I let the folks know when one of those things comes too close to us. That's my job. And then there is that box with the dogs inside, but that I still have to figure out because they don't bark back. <div><br /></div><div>Usually, when we go out riding, I use the paw holder and keep my head outside like I'm flying and if it isn't raining, the folks pretty much let me do that every time. Like I told you about a couple of posts ago.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, anyway, the Dad and I are out and he's driving and I'm flying and all of a sudden I saw this huge giant that was waving his arms around and bending down to get us and just looking evil. I barked at the dad to look out! Giant! But the Dad kept driving like nothing was wrong.</div><div><br /></div><div>I tried barking from all the different seats, but the Dad kept driving and getting closer to the giant. I didn't know what to do anymore. I didn't want to leave the Dad alone to fight the giant, but when he drove right next to him, I had to save myself and I hate to admit it, but I crawled under the Dad's legs which made him upset because he was driving, so I got as far under the other seats as I could until we got home.</div><div><br /></div><div>It took Dad a minute to convince me we were safe now. I looked around as much as I could without getting out of my safe place. It seemed OK and so I came out. </div><div><br /></div><div>That was close!</div><div><br /></div><div>If you see the giant, I suggest getting under a seat before you get too close and don't go under the legs of anyone driving. You get the "nonobadmove" command.</div><div><br /></div><div>Here's a picture of the giant's family so you can know what to look for.</div><div><br /></div><div>Be careful out there.</div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9G9jTT91LDjqNpGDa_lEiD9P8u9RNd1DAE__B_Zimwxwy_GQNB1cYXQcNToOfuBMMXj1Ide60xbQIgypwJDh8aSeR1baO3NQVOsnjTid9wVPZ_twSpDhlBq7OWquPXW-rPKrnQkBpurY/s1600/_wsb_272x258_Boston+Sky+Dancer.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 272px; height: 258px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9G9jTT91LDjqNpGDa_lEiD9P8u9RNd1DAE__B_Zimwxwy_GQNB1cYXQcNToOfuBMMXj1Ide60xbQIgypwJDh8aSeR1baO3NQVOsnjTid9wVPZ_twSpDhlBq7OWquPXW-rPKrnQkBpurY/s400/_wsb_272x258_Boston+Sky+Dancer.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5463682791734623666" /></a>Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-29829106876763093412010-04-04T19:16:00.000-07:002010-04-04T19:43:43.510-07:00my dog came back!I was having kind of a bad day because the Dad was using that loud box with the stick that sorta scares me and makes me bark. They have a smaller loud box and I can handle that one. But sometimes they use the big loud box and I do not like it at all. I think it's going to suck me up like it does with the dust and nobody is gonna tell me it won't. I know what I see.<br /><br />So the Dad is annoying me with the loud box and I'm barking and he tells me we are cleaning up because we have company coming and the company is Billy. And Ginger!<br /><br />Now I didn't know if this was real or if it was one of those things like cheese. Sometimes the Mom tells me she has cheeses just to get me away from the cat or the mail guy. But I went and waited by the door just in case.<br /><br />And Ginger came! She was excited to see me, too, because Billy had to wipe up some pee and I know I didn't do it. I didn't.<br /><br />Billy brought a person too, and she didn't get mad when I jumped on her but I think I really have to stop doing that. I just get so happy.<br /><br />So the folks and Billy and the other person went away and left me and Ginger at the house and I didn't even care that I wasn't going in the car with them. I had my dog!<br /><br />When they came back we all went to the dog park so I got to show off my dog. I kinda had to nudge her to get her going. She didn't remember how the dog park works.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW9YgFXHFnOlmmzfDwI8e_LQqVSkBwxmvfN8gW8lNDOLadxa20pnTNOLVNpp-yj-JTKn19Li0q14FNpMzIidTYrUU3w7gwdrb63JBkcp8_7QNkgGWmJiA2kJm9X_uVFt3Rlju4sJdfLr8/s1600/buds.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 285px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW9YgFXHFnOlmmzfDwI8e_LQqVSkBwxmvfN8gW8lNDOLadxa20pnTNOLVNpp-yj-JTKn19Li0q14FNpMzIidTYrUU3w7gwdrb63JBkcp8_7QNkgGWmJiA2kJm9X_uVFt3Rlju4sJdfLr8/s400/buds.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5456474483617546114" /></a><br /><br />Then the folks went out again, but for longer times and I started to miss them. Ginger napped a lot. So I was kinda zoomy when they got home. Ginger was just waggy. She's older.<br /><br />We all went out on leashes and then Billy and the person hugged the Mom and the Dad and they left ...<br /><br />and they took my dog again!<br /><br />I don't think Billy would like it if I took his person away. <br /><br />But I got to have my dog for a little while and that was good.<br /><br />I think she'll come back. <br /><br />I showed her where the cat food was.Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-34622610848839786612010-04-03T05:56:00.000-07:002010-04-03T06:08:13.950-07:00spring ride!It's Spring again. This is my 2nd one. The 1st time I saw Spring, I was a baby and I didn't know what flowers were or that you couldn't eat them. I was surprised that there was soft stuff under the frozen stuff. But I've see it all now. I'm experienced.<div><br /></div><div>There are good things about Spring. It means we go to the dog park even more. There are waaaay more smells. If the Dad is working outside I can lay down on the grass and watch for other dogs and people on wheels. The Mom starts taking me for walks just for fun. </div><div><br /></div><div>But the best part is that I get to ride outside the car. It is the best. There is a thing outside the window for my paws. I stand on the seat and put my front paws on the paw holder. If the Dad would open the window all the way down it would be coolest, but he won't do it. It is the best part of Spring anyway.</div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsL_kZQtQcDHUXJsJGq4s_QCBTbhRXKSG8uQd-luAHObA-uugS3L7seEVNuNUU2rKho4dxhrJF_Z3Ci-0_IZ6_kJTL__zdIowKxap3kDxjglXafRVc7aqdr_K7KTBVrwNZ-5Jb_ob7oas/s1600/q.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 349px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsL_kZQtQcDHUXJsJGq4s_QCBTbhRXKSG8uQd-luAHObA-uugS3L7seEVNuNUU2rKho4dxhrJF_Z3Ci-0_IZ6_kJTL__zdIowKxap3kDxjglXafRVc7aqdr_K7KTBVrwNZ-5Jb_ob7oas/s400/q.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455896984818016706" /></a><br /><br />If I could get the Mom to ride in the back I could ride like this every time!<br /><br />I'll have to figure that out.Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-71927144107664353052010-03-31T05:40:00.000-07:002010-03-31T05:46:09.801-07:00i can't help itI'm not supposed to eat pillows. But I do. I can't help it. They have soft stuff inside that feels good when I bite it and it flies around the room which is pretty cool. And then I get in trouble.<br /><br />The thing is, I know I'm gonna get in trouble but I can't help it. And they always know. Today they knew even before they went upstairs and saw the soft stuff all over. I don't know how they knew but the Dad said "what did you do?" as soon as I came downstairs. I hate "what did you do". How did he know?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEj3OnWvwcB4Eh1-3N3NuUdfK_13VzEEchjWh72nGMaVMRfHOKIdULurZjiTaDHqoWe27KiAsrQWLNbh8CoBrY5GQnUOZstOsLphN-l689gtzGrrs3CEWhRXRimuDeivhiL0fRGdseftg/s1600/feathers.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 394px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEj3OnWvwcB4Eh1-3N3NuUdfK_13VzEEchjWh72nGMaVMRfHOKIdULurZjiTaDHqoWe27KiAsrQWLNbh8CoBrY5GQnUOZstOsLphN-l689gtzGrrs3CEWhRXRimuDeivhiL0fRGdseftg/s400/feathers.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5454777856063929714" /></a><br /><br />Boy, humans are way smarter than I thought.Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-68566853369301388822010-03-09T04:36:00.000-08:002010-03-09T04:47:32.025-08:00marching for peasWe went on a long car ride today. I'm always ready to do that. There's a place in the middle between the folks where I can put my front feet so I can watch where we are going and check for other dogs. When I see something like other dogs, I can jump around on all the seats and yell at them. It's my job.<br /><br />So, we went way out in the country and gave a ride to some folks from a place called Japan. They were nice humans, except they took up all the extra seats and I had to sit on Mom's lap which made her say OW a lot. The Japans called me "Queensee" and kept patting my head and whispering "shoe, shoe, shoe" so I guess Mom told them about what I do to shoes which wasn't nice of her. We took them to some stores and stuff and then back to where we got them.<br /><br />The folks were talking about this long walk they were doing for peas, which confused me because we could have got peas at one of the stores we were at and the Japan people wouldn't have to walk. Maybe I'm missing something.<br /><br />I hope they find peas at the end of their walk. It sounds like something the folks really want.<br /><br />Me, I'd walk for cheese.Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-80555494323807486002010-02-14T18:05:00.000-08:002010-02-14T18:29:55.329-08:00but it was cheese!When the Mom is making stuff in the kitchen I always hang out because she drops a lot of stuff and the rule is that if it hits the floor, unless it's bad stuff, I get to eat it. So I stay right there.<div><br /></div><div>Today she was cutting up a lot of things which always means a lot of stuff on the floor. Then she piled a bunch of stuff on a dish and left. I followed her but she told me not to beg (I wasn't begging I was watching for dropped stuff) so I went back in the kitchen to see if I missed anything.</div><div><br /></div><div> I was just sniffing around when I smelled cheese. My favorite! Where was it? I sniffed and sniffed and put my paws up on the table and there it was. A bunch of it in a bowl. I got close to it and sort of put my nose in it and somehow it landed on the floor. </div><div><br /></div><div>Which made it mine.</div><div><br /></div><div>It would have been OK except Mom came in to put some more stuff on her dish and she asked where the cheese was and I went to hide behind the coat rack. That's where I always go when I hear "No! Bad!" so she knew. And then she saw the little bowl the cheese was in. The empty bowl. I ran for the stairs.</div><div><br /></div><div>But she was really really mad and she followed me telling me how bad I was and asking what did I do and saying bad dog and I went into the bathroom and she threw the little bowl in there with me and said she was really mad and I was on time out.</div><div><br /></div><div>And then she shut the door!</div><div><br /></div><div>So I'm in this little room, listening while she tells Dad what I did and the cats are poking at me under the door and laughing and I hear the folks eating dinner and I know I'm not even gonna get a little bit of a treat this time and so I started to cry. Just a little.</div><div><br /></div><div>I was in there forever before she came up to let me out. Days and days. Well, at least 10 minutes. And when the door opened I scooted right by her and down the steps and hid behind the Dad.</div><div><br /></div><div>I think we're friends again because she's been playing catch with me for a while, but I keep sniffing the little table by her chair because I think I smell cupcake.</div><div><br /></div><div>Maybe she'll drop it.</div><div><br /></div>Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-80096408842297860632010-02-07T16:45:00.000-08:002010-02-07T16:52:14.119-08:00puppy bowlThe folks are watching something called the stoopid bowl on the teevee. It is boring because they ignore me except every so often they put something on the teevee called the puppy bowl.<div><br /></div><div>I like the puppy bowl because it's kinda like when I had my own dog there for a while. Then Billy came to visit and he stole the dog. I don't know if Mom knows but she wouldn't yell at him anyway. I think he's her favorite. All I know is I don't have a dog anymore and nobody seems to care.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, anyway, they keep telling me to look at the puppies and I do but just for a minute because when they are in the teevee box you can't smell 'em or chase 'em so what's the use? I give the teevee a little growl each time just to make the folks laugh.</div><div><br /></div><div>They are so easy.</div><div><br /></div><div>But now I'm thinking maybe if I look at the teevee puppies for a while and whimper they might think I really need my own dog and go get me another one. I guess it's worth a try. </div><div><br /></div><div>But I'm hiding it if Billy visits.</div>Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-21022847757737697332010-01-09T19:04:00.000-08:002010-01-09T19:09:21.406-08:00I think I have a dogI'm not real sure, but when Mom came back from wherever she went, she had the Billy with her and a dog. Billy left, but the dog stayed.<div><br /></div><div>This dog is bigger than me but kinda shy. I had to teach it to play and now it plays pretty good. It eats my food but I don't growl or anything 'cause I want to keep the dog.</div><div><br /></div><div>It can't sit up like me so it gets treats just for giving its paw which is pretty cheap in my book. I tried that but Mom said I had to sit up. Well, I guess it's worth it to have my own dog.</div><div><br /></div><div>As long as it stays off the big bed, we're OK. There's only so much I can do.</div>Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-41811065673951540092009-12-23T07:13:00.000-08:002009-12-23T07:25:36.868-08:00people toysI get a bucket of toys. All mine. The folks keep putting them back in the bucket even after I've killed them, ripped out the guts and buried them under the desk.<br /><br />It's like if the bucket is full, I must have a lot of toys. No, I have a bucket of dead stuff. Now the folks, they have toys!<br /><br />The best one is the one I got to see today. It's really small, doesn't squeak, and Dad person keeps it on his belt for some reason. He talks at it a lot and if I try to bring him stuff to throw while he's talking at it, he shoos me away. I hate that people toy.<br /><br />But today was really cool. He let me get near it and I heard my name. I stared at it and it kept talking to me and it sounded like my Mom person telling me I was a good boy. Dad laughed and said how quiet I got. Well, yeah. If you're able to get Mom in that little box, what can you do to me?<br /><br />I don't know where she is. I guess sometimes she's in that little box, but I don't know why she's not here. Dad takes me to the dog park a lot, but he doesn't know about cheese.<br /><br />If he puts Mom near my face again I'm gonna see if she has cheese in there.<br /><br />I miss my Mom.Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-85160641262550341352009-11-27T18:48:00.000-08:002009-11-27T18:55:38.833-08:00the pillows and II can't help it. I know I will get called a bad dog. I know I will have to "come here" and then sit there with my ears all down while I listen to a lot of blahblahpillowblahbadblahnoblahbaddog. But they are like big toys. All soft and stuff. And when you bite them, white fluff stuff goes all over and the cats are all "Whoa you are in deep doodoo now, litter breath" <br /><br />Nobody knows how the cats make fun of me when nobody is home. It is brutal.<br /><br />So, anyway, sometimes they hide the pillows under the blankets but that just makes it more of a game. I get to pull the blanket down and look for the secret pillow. That keeps me busy for a long time. The folks say "where's Q? He's been quiet a long time" Uh oh.<br /><br />They keep buying me new toys, but they are like small pillows and they just make me want bigger ones. One of us has to change.<br /><br />Oh, and the little red treats you have to bite out of the bubbles? Those taste awful and they are called soodyfed or something and it gives you the zoomies. Just thought I'd tell ya.Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-42290819299695225942009-10-25T05:57:00.000-07:002009-10-25T06:19:57.623-07:00where was I?Oh yeah. Vacation. That's what the folks said it was. I guess a vacation is when you go farther than the dog park for a really long time and every day you have to learn new smells and find good nap spots. Vacations are hard work.<br /><br />But I got to do some really cool stuff. I got to play in snow on a mountain! No kidding. A mountain is like the dog park only up.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh89h6FZbKWvomeTjH7HicIErh_bG0h2BMTPPe_-hk8zCCITmrCoUrzp6YFwUKwm9HrxRH1LexDROrfcwp3nzJB8MVihx9fgwrru3tyH1w6x_p1_UObxfAOgWbpkZrmUqd0g-AiI2c0gvM/s1600-h/qsnow.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh89h6FZbKWvomeTjH7HicIErh_bG0h2BMTPPe_-hk8zCCITmrCoUrzp6YFwUKwm9HrxRH1LexDROrfcwp3nzJB8MVihx9fgwrru3tyH1w6x_p1_UObxfAOgWbpkZrmUqd0g-AiI2c0gvM/s400/qsnow.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396521733973672706"></a><br /><br />They wouldn't take the leash off, though. Boy, that would have been fun.<br /><br />And there was no great lake where we went but there was an ocean! No kidding. At first I was only able to look at it<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioKeOkCE_a60nYREJOKM7bhmDfD0OVFEv_V2gpjyV4xuEAHrCsC87e3XaXmpjSS222h5XMI34YNlLIxsc3IgsNzZ4_LZIMzGN9nB3YF2C6mvIWfCEC9YDhfCAyIj50DaP95DqQ6agvT2g/s1600-h/qview.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 239px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioKeOkCE_a60nYREJOKM7bhmDfD0OVFEv_V2gpjyV4xuEAHrCsC87e3XaXmpjSS222h5XMI34YNlLIxsc3IgsNzZ4_LZIMzGN9nB3YF2C6mvIWfCEC9YDhfCAyIj50DaP95DqQ6agvT2g/s400/qview.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5396522089490417138"></a><br /><br />but pretty soon we went to walk in it. At first it was sort of scary because the water goes in and out like the great lake does, but this stuff goes waaaay in and waaaay out. It was hard to figure out.<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dx8RHyTjwp_u7XEYUu9Fi66ZThtPNNKIkrffrK43eQeq7Pif3EXNGu3kakIryQD46uocJo63vPWJcvV9NdKjw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />I loved it. Some day they are gonna take that darn leash off and let me run around like at the dog park. That ocean would have been a great place to run! I don't get why they worry so much.<br /><br />So, anyway, that was vacation. I think I like vacation. But I like home, too. Time to sleep in front of the fire again. Maybe I'll dream about swimming in oceans. No leash.Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-4535628206886814632009-10-14T10:04:00.000-07:002009-10-14T10:46:32.314-07:00whew!Boy, am I glad to be back. You can't believe what happened. I'm just doing my usual morning thing...chewing Dad's pillow, chasing Scooter under the bed, looking for Mom's shoes, trying to look sad so they'll take me to the dog park. Well, pretty soon I hear the "car" word and I am excited and we get out to the car but I can tell right away that something is up because the folks built like a whole room for me behind them. Really! Like my bed and a water bowl and toys and a chew stick and I'm thinking something is fishy here and I'm hoping it doesn't mean the cold table/pointy stick in the butt stuff.<br /><br />But Dad drove right by the pointy stick place but then wait! he drove right by the dog park place, too so I tried the whimpering thing but they just told me to hush. We drove longer than it takes to go to Grammas, longer than it takes to go to the great lake for swimming, longer than any park I know. I started to worry they were taking me back to the shelter, but we drove and drove and I fell asleep.<br /><br />I woke up in a place called Oh! Hi, O! We still didn't stop except for all of us to pee and get stuff like water and chips. They stuffed me back in my car room and off we went. This went on for days!!!<br /><br />You can't believe the stuff I saw. Huge things called cows that didn't even look when I barked at them. And horses! Same thing. What's with these people? Then there was this huuuge green thing that I really went crazy trying to scare off but the folks just laughed. They said he was the Sinclair dinosaur, a gas station dummy. Yeah, he was a dummy all right. If I coulda got out of the car he would have been sorry. Hmph.<br /><br />We stopped at places called hotels that are really just a whole lot of big bed rooms where you can't bark and all sorts of things happen at the door that make you want to bark but you get yelled at. I don't like hotels.<br /><br />Finally we got to our new house in Oh, I'm gone! or something like that. But it really wasn't our new house because we left there to come back here after a while. That was lots nicer than the hotel. I'll tell you the rest later. I need a nap and the fireplace is on. I love sleeping by the fire. Except when my fur starts to smell funny and Mom pulls me away by my legs.Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-32324634563764766382009-09-01T19:11:00.000-07:002009-09-01T19:27:33.112-07:00baloneyDo you know baloney? Get to know it, I mean it. Baloney doesn't happen much in our house because Dad is a veterinarian or something. But yesterday, Mom bought some and made lunch. She left it on the big kitchen working table, I guess because she was real hungry and didn't want to wait to eat lunch. I guess she was gonna put it in the big box I haven't figured out how to open when she was done.<br /><br />I waited.<br /><br />Pretty soon she brought her lunch in the big room and sat in a chair and watched TV and she left the baloney all alone. She didn't know I could reach the top of the working table. I've been practicing. But there was never anything there until yesterday. It wasn't easy. The baloney was in an envelope and you have to get it out. But I did it. And it was really really good. I was really excited and that's how I got caught. That envelope thing the baloney came in was really tasty. I took it and ran into the big room and jumped on the couch so I could take my time chewing it. That's when Mom yelled "QUINCY! The baloney!" (that's how I knew what it was called)<br /><br />Mom sent me upstairs to sleep on the big bed which is something I like to do so I'm not sure if she was really mad or not. Except she sounded mad. I mean. at night she says "C'mon Q, let's go sleep on the big bed" in her good dog voice. This time she used her bad dog voice and said "QUINCY! Upstairs! Now! Get on the bed! Bad!"<br /><br />Either way, I got a whole lot of baloney and a nap on the big bed. Life is good.Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-77114913437273131132009-07-31T15:42:00.000-07:002009-07-31T15:48:56.118-07:00car zoomiesOK, this is cool. But it only works in the Mom car.<div><br /></div><div>You put one paw on the dashboard ( I know that's what it's called because the mom says "Q! You're scratching the dashboard!), Then you put your other paw OUTSIDE the car and hang onto the mirror. You keep your back legs real straight on the seat and leeeeaaan your head waaay out the window.</div><div><br /></div><div>When the car goes fast, you're doing the best zoomies ever.</div><div><br /></div><div>Try it, really! It is great. Well, except if the car is going really fast and your ears start flappin' wompawompa. That gets weird.</div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfHtqnis-90Ap1yK0Jntx4K4ZiNd4PMn6nkWDID_HgaovnfdGcUNZu6seiQoavaYBCeSDvMF64glVmCdh6V9lrnubvlGECBFrt6u4-L2Co0CTXmJfSINZ4_WycIJczyxRp1mlLJlreEZI/s1600-h/photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfHtqnis-90Ap1yK0Jntx4K4ZiNd4PMn6nkWDID_HgaovnfdGcUNZu6seiQoavaYBCeSDvMF64glVmCdh6V9lrnubvlGECBFrt6u4-L2Co0CTXmJfSINZ4_WycIJczyxRp1mlLJlreEZI/s400/photo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5364759756301386834" /></a>Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-39701562344178370582009-07-08T15:25:00.000-07:002009-07-08T15:50:01.438-07:00new bark park!The bark park is my favorite place, so when the folks said we were going to the <span style="font-style:italic;">new</span> bark park I thought "OK, but you can't make me like it"<br /><br />But I did.<br /><br />When we got there, lots of new people were there and they didn't have dogs. They were sort of standing around and waiting. Turns out they were waiting for the guy in the suit. He's a mayor. I'm not sure what that is, but it got me a new bark park, so I'm thinking it's a good thing.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7d3ezfQQrDxgh-h181EGcHLkH2E5wBwNRtKF8_JmethK8EHUUMDaY2GN-mKIAu-qcqbefcRNMVpAqWQtc4DUpiQuH3dhqZzkHg29dTqf3CjEiUaj-MsT8Pw1oZ-CLuLtuJQ27Qn6qPu8/s1600-h/mayor.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7d3ezfQQrDxgh-h181EGcHLkH2E5wBwNRtKF8_JmethK8EHUUMDaY2GN-mKIAu-qcqbefcRNMVpAqWQtc4DUpiQuH3dhqZzkHg29dTqf3CjEiUaj-MsT8Pw1oZ-CLuLtuJQ27Qn6qPu8/s400/mayor.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356220727815855842" /></a><br /><br />I tried to get in on it, but they fenced me out.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRQbNEKg_CRIqUjfK2AAawcGzm5Sj2OdUyrPlUi2p7xmsUqDftD2Pf488bTDFj5MlSlItTHxIWaIdEdzMjgtp4DHXZSwd6xRodkS53RKQJdXsYYtG7Kza5HhZNYh-eny0QXAmqwVn0WiM/s1600-h/by+the+fence.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRQbNEKg_CRIqUjfK2AAawcGzm5Sj2OdUyrPlUi2p7xmsUqDftD2Pf488bTDFj5MlSlItTHxIWaIdEdzMjgtp4DHXZSwd6xRodkS53RKQJdXsYYtG7Kza5HhZNYh-eny0QXAmqwVn0WiM/s400/by+the+fence.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356221205263707122" /></a><br /><br />The new park is so big I can run forever<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7zvTeExGSZuE5rDnKpmwpzuZC9B09SfmYsCXwkd9eD6sw7aR3qGZb74R8jtf5Xd4bdFY9JHJA85vPT1hFzZUn96sJ-BJjC7HzigUeF2AATewRxLDCxEZ_4oNVm427z2guI8Kv_7j0XXA/s1600-h/big.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7zvTeExGSZuE5rDnKpmwpzuZC9B09SfmYsCXwkd9eD6sw7aR3qGZb74R8jtf5Xd4bdFY9JHJA85vPT1hFzZUn96sJ-BJjC7HzigUeF2AATewRxLDCxEZ_4oNVm427z2guI8Kv_7j0XXA/s400/big.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356221485287155906" /></a><br /><br />You can see the swimming lake, but there's a fence again.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWpXKOQojTlxeFUKf_KcFbBbwSG39koHKtkBIwLarntFKkysGZw_8yZUD6wzUfTPD8LT8tvlhNteL8Sc5TDGR8wAWEYOA0ZJjfMTE-sRdTFaGkD2UQB56RRt4s7Sb_sYilfDiLNJTEgF4/s1600-h/friends.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWpXKOQojTlxeFUKf_KcFbBbwSG39koHKtkBIwLarntFKkysGZw_8yZUD6wzUfTPD8LT8tvlhNteL8Sc5TDGR8wAWEYOA0ZJjfMTE-sRdTFaGkD2UQB56RRt4s7Sb_sYilfDiLNJTEgF4/s400/friends.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356222494797942050" /></a><br /><br /><br />Those are some of my friends.<br /><br />Thanks for the park mayor man. My friends say thanks, too.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCERxoYlyZSgQAgMldlDjs6hyphenhypheni6v-mHaWRu_IXieX-HGA4SDj__z0oqd4tE96BzXT1meHqow7xj1mqlQyaLFwa-37PH_vWiO1cOFL5_bwj5L3MLZg5eG0MR6_dUi0h2msCxniUCmFjnHw/s1600-h/ball.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCERxoYlyZSgQAgMldlDjs6hyphenhypheni6v-mHaWRu_IXieX-HGA4SDj__z0oqd4tE96BzXT1meHqow7xj1mqlQyaLFwa-37PH_vWiO1cOFL5_bwj5L3MLZg5eG0MR6_dUi0h2msCxniUCmFjnHw/s400/ball.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356223351874505362" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoyp7vuWlKT50kl5NxzZtdT9Atx7-nvoKt8l-YqGNRL9RJTubFJAvKW-LgNPyAYhKko9Ni7ibjNZz2pJwAvaIvm2cV0sU_LXn4Ll-zzln7nqkHDJpPbvrJrLk8XYRgEMlGGYB3r4Opx8M/s1600-h/scarf.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoyp7vuWlKT50kl5NxzZtdT9Atx7-nvoKt8l-YqGNRL9RJTubFJAvKW-LgNPyAYhKko9Ni7ibjNZz2pJwAvaIvm2cV0sU_LXn4Ll-zzln7nqkHDJpPbvrJrLk8XYRgEMlGGYB3r4Opx8M/s400/scarf.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356223346085005330" /></a><br /><br />I think I'm gonna like it here<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiInCwoOqOLeDLPlgcKiiaQfzjjO3pbeuMxSaRZrMwpzWQtKjINkiG3zc_PwgLiJhiETU9Pj6Nnuo421HDcig0YOyK0lYliJj2ZYRAHx6Wm94kjjF23hnoqao0iP_oHtpiouUfo_GO0dro/s1600-h/best.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiInCwoOqOLeDLPlgcKiiaQfzjjO3pbeuMxSaRZrMwpzWQtKjINkiG3zc_PwgLiJhiETU9Pj6Nnuo421HDcig0YOyK0lYliJj2ZYRAHx6Wm94kjjF23hnoqao0iP_oHtpiouUfo_GO0dro/s400/best.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5356225101137156338" /></a>Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-29155063603098444232009-06-22T18:18:00.000-07:002009-06-22T18:43:12.016-07:00swimming!OK, I didn't know what it was, but the folks were all excited to keep telling me we were going swimming! Swimming, swimming, swimming. OK, so let's go to swimming already. sheesh. This better be good.<br /><br />We went to a place by the water. The bark park is by the water but this place had no fence. The water could come right at you. And it did. It would come at me, then back up and come at me and back up. Too weird for me. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLotkFF47YEhKjk4SBh3Rphj3uFoJ6N2rIX_XKhRqm3u60Ziy2iWsz_nFZcql1Hchn92_-UMHgpIrRF7pcNe5pesoEaWyixgReS7Dpf0zPeXx6G5W9K7oQwnylkQdERnbrmSXfadgZNQA/s1600-h/oh+no.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLotkFF47YEhKjk4SBh3Rphj3uFoJ6N2rIX_XKhRqm3u60Ziy2iWsz_nFZcql1Hchn92_-UMHgpIrRF7pcNe5pesoEaWyixgReS7Dpf0zPeXx6G5W9K7oQwnylkQdERnbrmSXfadgZNQA/s400/oh+no.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350327268475121314" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk6FwiYV_GpZClKeBUoLpKQPsC_grQrPiuxzRNy1419JF3zl0w3d74VLkDDnIvO0FGZgY8tGgQrBKtfOIVswUlOg60sgbLq4f0_ZlJlgN7Iar6hDbfqYfc7JWwcFI5PnHT57jLDLWTq-k/s1600-h/really+no.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk6FwiYV_GpZClKeBUoLpKQPsC_grQrPiuxzRNy1419JF3zl0w3d74VLkDDnIvO0FGZgY8tGgQrBKtfOIVswUlOg60sgbLq4f0_ZlJlgN7Iar6hDbfqYfc7JWwcFI5PnHT57jLDLWTq-k/s400/really+no.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350327262179384866" /></a><br /><br />I was real happy to just keep smelling that sleeping fish, but no, we had to chase the water. Mom went with me, that's the only reason I went. Had to protect her from the in and out water,<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJXzMBfJsn21QXOaVmjbFW6ku04n_p8G2ausJ872PcutTCIEwYDDuhtUMOFtGdFpGlLB2Kg02SeMSXTVGR8iqfaf4C93uLeUWEtUSObxXP2w-7lDZ1lc969gdLewA6ULq3gqlh-rxVVuQ/s1600-h/trusting+mom.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 242px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJXzMBfJsn21QXOaVmjbFW6ku04n_p8G2ausJ872PcutTCIEwYDDuhtUMOFtGdFpGlLB2Kg02SeMSXTVGR8iqfaf4C93uLeUWEtUSObxXP2w-7lDZ1lc969gdLewA6ULq3gqlh-rxVVuQ/s400/trusting+mom.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350327964064004082" /></a><br /><br />Hmm..OK...this is sorta cool, now what?<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy8LhFsvzPaPAlHAxOojxxqwkpuX4vSrho7RZdyYa_wj92AOMC7VBsyKtZzLjgp4NEg1DlpJq6UQhJjqQNopRailnzgPupEgMoJGjrUw1RmnTrnNeunKu_fYu_aotZMd5GnKoVv2mm8yY/s1600-h/thinking+about+it.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy8LhFsvzPaPAlHAxOojxxqwkpuX4vSrho7RZdyYa_wj92AOMC7VBsyKtZzLjgp4NEg1DlpJq6UQhJjqQNopRailnzgPupEgMoJGjrUw1RmnTrnNeunKu_fYu_aotZMd5GnKoVv2mm8yY/s400/thinking+about+it.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350328502130088530" /></a><br /><br />Ah, the old stick throw. They know I can't help myself<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcYBpyht4AUTbCEE_xAgJgzB8Aa2GL4oqYqotfbJO9yebvg1OzPnW5IXf-bf8P4vVGJvFQBDx-8YJV7io8DWVtwKQ5pwye6zb7HXWWMETzO-2id20oo4f1EwhEZa3gfJSbT4k_Mr80Q_c/s1600-h/zoomie.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcYBpyht4AUTbCEE_xAgJgzB8Aa2GL4oqYqotfbJO9yebvg1OzPnW5IXf-bf8P4vVGJvFQBDx-8YJV7io8DWVtwKQ5pwye6zb7HXWWMETzO-2id20oo4f1EwhEZa3gfJSbT4k_Mr80Q_c/s400/zoomie.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350329012983752322" /></a><br /><br />Hey. that's not so bad<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFEqje1gZGops91Jnc_qeEVyliopJy4E22lUzCMkfMdiiLRcTVQQXSAzUVN5429NWKoEmS-J6sllU_JsDBJFXPOou_edov0Ms3NlbnMnfqrmnv7nfbxqST5lvdPci8nQ6rlxhpGJYXPNU/s1600-h/zoom+2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFEqje1gZGops91Jnc_qeEVyliopJy4E22lUzCMkfMdiiLRcTVQQXSAzUVN5429NWKoEmS-J6sllU_JsDBJFXPOou_edov0Ms3NlbnMnfqrmnv7nfbxqST5lvdPci8nQ6rlxhpGJYXPNU/s400/zoom+2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350329212598199298" /></a><br /><br />And then Dad threw the stick really far and the water came up to my nose and so I picked up my legs and started running and Mom got all excited about how I was swimming! Yay Quincy! Yay Quincy! You're swimming!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL1zbPihhf90I5udg2wopCDfjzwdzikeCLuspxWd8Dm2TdgtmdQiBA0vqvJM0fZTs_iWcdLbkhoHH9X9YLJ4Hs3Z8maK7V862a2RXMiOH2Dcr9Eires2fMcfGdrDO0JGKTggGry76HZOM/s1600-h/paddle.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiL1zbPihhf90I5udg2wopCDfjzwdzikeCLuspxWd8Dm2TdgtmdQiBA0vqvJM0fZTs_iWcdLbkhoHH9X9YLJ4Hs3Z8maK7V862a2RXMiOH2Dcr9Eires2fMcfGdrDO0JGKTggGry76HZOM/s400/paddle.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350329646003699458" /></a><br /><br />I mean, really, have they never heard of "doggie paddle"? <br /><br />I like this swimming thing<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM7_73ewsRVvuVWKaIPGTibFDM_3R0PNBOGiXP8HmXYkr-wzGfbYyHLs3bm5Ld5WuxxDTRXCZp_4EEH_9ZQEYTH3FAGYOeuRZ9YDr8v4cuqLQZQIg8u3K5NLnKYuBoUWsCCgKMpA0pjyc/s1600-h/I'm+a+swimmer!.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgM7_73ewsRVvuVWKaIPGTibFDM_3R0PNBOGiXP8HmXYkr-wzGfbYyHLs3bm5Ld5WuxxDTRXCZp_4EEH_9ZQEYTH3FAGYOeuRZ9YDr8v4cuqLQZQIg8u3K5NLnKYuBoUWsCCgKMpA0pjyc/s400/I'm+a+swimmer!.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5350330079832439618" /></a><br /><br />Mom said I was swimming in a great lake. Heck yeah, it was a really really great lake.<br /><br />It would have been a perfect day if they had let me bring the sleeping fish home. He smelled really tasty. But I had to drop it. <br /><br />We'll be back, though.<br /><br />'cause I'm a swimmin' dog now!Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-68241411666864260292009-06-15T04:30:00.000-07:002009-06-15T18:26:21.071-07:00I went to canada!OK, I'm not exactly sure what a canada is, but we went there. Dad had to tell a man where he was born. Nobody asked me. I guess canada doesn't care about dogs.<br /><br /> It's funny, we go on really long car rides and nobody asks Dad where he was born. This canada place is just down the street near the bark park but they ask you questions. I have to figure it out.<br /><br />I got to play with canada puppies. They didn't care where I was born, either. <br /><br />Dear canada..My name is Quincy. I was born in a shelter. Thanks for letting me visit.Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-35374200458849724922009-06-11T05:55:00.001-07:002009-06-11T06:06:22.600-07:00life is good!!!!My parts are still gone, I guess that's how it's gonna be. But guess what? The lampshade is off! Yay! That means we can go to the bark park again. And we did!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7odzLU27ao8UObmSJeDFNvKv9Tve_mPbXYAAxUrxQctFP2w9DazrWG7K3e1J1ej73FSHQha_SVftuinb4c8b8dxPzv071I6xo3xnIGlPFFQ9VvXXWdpvrt0chRZkDOKqLLErdWpIatBY/s1600-h/q+park.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7odzLU27ao8UObmSJeDFNvKv9Tve_mPbXYAAxUrxQctFP2w9DazrWG7K3e1J1ej73FSHQha_SVftuinb4c8b8dxPzv071I6xo3xnIGlPFFQ9VvXXWdpvrt0chRZkDOKqLLErdWpIatBY/s400/q+park.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346055055474977442" /></a><br /><br />It was probably baby to cry when we got there, but I couldn't help it. It just came out. Mom couildn't get the car door open fast enough for me. I think I kinda made her mad a little because I was going from one door to another and in the back and on the floor but it was my legs. They were doing it. Really.<br /><br />I got to wrestle and play tug a stick with another puppy my size. That was great. Then this little dog that looked like a chew toy came in and started yapping at everybody but we pretty much ignored her. Kids today. Sheesh.<br /><br />We took a ride to see Gramma, too, but I think to her I'm sorta like that chew toy dog. She'd like it better if I wasn't there. Keeps poking at me with her cane. Maybe I'll stay away until I get less zoomie. She wants me to sit by her feet and let her pet me, but the zoomies get me.<br /><br />Then we came home and I was all tired an stuff. It's been along time since I got to play that much.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpEP6X4Ar2poiMcJpLvwODE5xmd_GsvRRJ29hfLL_AbC4NQHpDuCruHYn_tToEYWfuHPVs87MvnRzOU7Oy_aQOu5h2t7TAjTkv_q2H2-zBxG-Y9C6YOe3RWZprKWYYhZBBQvMRLsu2cdk/s1600-h/q+sleep.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 306px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpEP6X4Ar2poiMcJpLvwODE5xmd_GsvRRJ29hfLL_AbC4NQHpDuCruHYn_tToEYWfuHPVs87MvnRzOU7Oy_aQOu5h2t7TAjTkv_q2H2-zBxG-Y9C6YOe3RWZprKWYYhZBBQvMRLsu2cdk/s400/q+sleep.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5346054605223763842" /></a><br /><br />And a long time since I could sleep on Dad and feel his heartbeat in my ear.<br /><br />Life is good.Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-37109992612725857852009-06-03T07:33:00.000-07:002009-06-03T07:48:47.847-07:00lampshade 101I've been wearing this thingy on my head forever. I'm not sure what I did, but all things considered, this past week makes "time out" look like a reason for a happy dance.<div><br /></div><div>The folks are really nice to me, and throw treats into my lampshade, so I guess I wasn't bad. I hope I don't have to lose any more of my parts, though. I'm kind of used to them. Like I would hate to lose my tail because it is very cool. It makes a "Q". Really. Well, the folks say it makes a circle, but I should know.</div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv4YGreyRuvU4LG310cuwc3Jqe6070yuwZuCLGJ6hLpHGxPcCfXRBda3EhfvMF13DF_ErCHojoBMZI3wQaZATdac7pknpWDljaJK1IS_td4oImCtuJUF2Pz-HSAM4XJnteEV_BSm4uV_s/s1600-h/tail.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 360px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv4YGreyRuvU4LG310cuwc3Jqe6070yuwZuCLGJ6hLpHGxPcCfXRBda3EhfvMF13DF_ErCHojoBMZI3wQaZATdac7pknpWDljaJK1IS_td4oImCtuJUF2Pz-HSAM4XJnteEV_BSm4uV_s/s400/tail.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343111777506125186" /></a><br /><div>I haven't been to the dog park forever. And riding in the car isn't as much fun because the stoopid lampshade gets caught on the car parts. And everytime I run up to one the folks they start yellin' OW OW!</div><div><br /></div><div>I think the lampshade gets 'em. Well, it gets me, too. You don't hear me yelling.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, I found out some good things about the lampshade. It fits right over the cat. That's pretty cool. And you can hear really good and your bark sounds really really loud.</div><div><br /></div><div>Oh, yeah, flowers smell better.<br /><div><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Q2VQ85ipw8uheIvFLHx0qHFw3TSTjzkxOQdmoxRmS28BJo_7KU9Werv3Wzn2a_vSOFgOMiN8WPO7xOdMW2XODK-hSgPGamdS_3soueJAeBXMMTbOtk-PnfIBJEEqTCbbbTtwKkDa3Pk/s1600-h/qdome.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Q2VQ85ipw8uheIvFLHx0qHFw3TSTjzkxOQdmoxRmS28BJo_7KU9Werv3Wzn2a_vSOFgOMiN8WPO7xOdMW2XODK-hSgPGamdS_3soueJAeBXMMTbOtk-PnfIBJEEqTCbbbTtwKkDa3Pk/s400/qdome.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5343112772538662002" /></a><br /><br />I heard the folks talking about when they can take the thingy off my head. I vote for now. I haven't felt a pillow under my chin for sooo long.<br /></div></div>Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-42661258870461920002009-05-28T18:30:00.000-07:002009-05-28T18:46:24.705-07:00this is not funny<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAUfDT8LTBpdWlpaMkF_3mo20VAeVCf5NXDLZTODlSuXwV3_znSm1pjaefMoVBezTrLhhAHvWSOOR_R1UGMDy4MVy7KIgbIxzF-58xGdWan-s476ULQvq67rBFAwRdWilgC7OSLTI_7fI/s1600-h/photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 300px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAUfDT8LTBpdWlpaMkF_3mo20VAeVCf5NXDLZTODlSuXwV3_znSm1pjaefMoVBezTrLhhAHvWSOOR_R1UGMDy4MVy7KIgbIxzF-58xGdWan-s476ULQvq67rBFAwRdWilgC7OSLTI_7fI/s400/photo.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5341052751401913282" /></a><br />They brought me back the the parts stealers. I needed glue. They are gluing me together! Is it my fault the glue didn't work? I don't think so. But I still have to wear this thing on my head. They said I was licking. I was not licking. I was trying to figure out where the hid the stuff that used to be there. There is NOTHING TO LICK!! Sorry I barked. It's been a long day for a puppy.<div><br /></div><div>This thing sticks out pretty far so I keep thumping into things. Like the door. I can't stand as close to it as I did before because if I do it goes thump and the folks laugh. They laugh when the coffee table grabs the edge, when I hold my head back and try to go up the stairs, when I try to drink water, even when I'm just laying down. Mom keeps saying I have sad eyes.</div><div><br /></div><div>Sad eyes? Put your head in this dixie cup and try to look happy. Gee.</div><div><br /></div><div>So, I am not going to the dog park in this thing. There is a lab pit mix there that will never let me forget it. </div><div><br /></div><div>And forget that pretty Golden. She'd run the other way. Which doesn't matter much, because I have a feeling those parts they stole may have had something to do with me and her anyway.</div><div><br /></div><div>I do get a lot of pets. And Mom gave me cheese. Cheese! Do you know cheese? Boy, get to know it, that's some good stuff. I'll probably never see it again once this bucket is off my head. I'm going to try the sad eye thing again, see if I get more.</div><div><br /></div><div>How long is 10-14 days? Will I still be a puppy? Will there be cheese?</div>Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-417674379220361432009-05-27T19:44:00.000-07:002009-05-27T19:55:57.388-07:00what happened?I could tell we weren't going to the barkpark. I was picking up some weird stuff from my humans, so I tried the pitiful whimpering thing. They kept driving but they were talking about why I was crying and they did stop for a minute and I dragged my Mom around some grass. But they put me back in the car and we kept going.<div><br /></div><div>Turns out we were going to a steel table/sharp pointy stick place, but this time they left me. They left! You won't believe what happened next. I'm kinda shy about it but I discovered some neat parts of myself the other day and now they are gone. And I was just getting used to them.</div><div><br /></div><div>When the folks finally came back to get me, I dragged them outta there real fast before those people could take any more of my parts.</div><div><br /></div><div>I don't know why they took my parts or what they are gonna do with them. I have to figure it out. But I know next time the folks take me to a steel table pointy stick place they are gonna stay with me or I'm escaping. When they see that part of me is missing, they are going to be really mad at those people. </div><div><br /></div><div>Mom let me taste her popsicle That was good. She keeps kissing my head and saying "poor baby". She doesn't know the half of it.</div>Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2584118704668815110.post-1868876351595401362009-05-19T04:11:00.000-07:002009-05-19T04:15:00.546-07:00fixing?Next week I am going to get fixed.<br /><br />I didn't know I was broken.<br /><br />I need to figure this out.Pathttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00858698499781909491noreply@blogger.com0