"Goop Melange" for the last 90 days or so

(It's an Odd Couple quote - look it up)  The first thing they did was set the network up, but they put the keyboard up high on the bar where I couldn't reach it...  Everything's more back to normal, but I have a lot to catch you up on - here we go...

The move down

So, the bigger guy comes back for a few days, and the next Monday - early - I get shuffled into the back of the big truck and off we go.  Now, generally, I don't mind riding in the car, usually it means we're seeing some of their friends, or, even better, I'm going to the kennel to see some of MY friends :)  But this was a looong ride…

They mashed something into a treat, and it got a little better – I slept a little, and when I woke up I was in Tennessee (yes, Tennessee!!) McDonalds, walking around trying to clear my head (and other things, too).  Then back into the car, another treat, and off to dreamland again…

The quick change

So, it’s the middle of the night, and we finally get to this teeny little apartment.  I settle in for a night’s sleep when everyone starts grabbing and moving things back into the car…apparently we have to get out of this apartment and into some other house TODAY – wait, I just got here, there’s plenty of corners to still check out.  I didn’t even get time to secure the perimeter…and off we go…

The new place isn’t so bad – I like things pretty empty, but the boys don’t seem to have anything to do…  The only things in the house are a couple of computers (the network seems to be up and running), an Xbox, and a guitar.  Everything else is gone…

I’m eating food out of a plastic Ziplock dish.  Not good.  The girl usually takes care of me (and them, too).  I’m actually pretty worried that without her we’ll all be dead in a week…

The barbecue is pretty tasty, however, and dad always overfeeds me – the jury’s still out…

Oh, yeah, forgot the two most important things.  It’s hot.  No.  Hotter than that.  Really !@&*#^*@!^$% hot.  Also, there’s a pool in the backyard.  It’s deep and scary, and I don’t remember ever learning how to swim.

So there you have it.  I can’t go outside because I’ll either broil to death or drown, and I can’t stay inside because I’ll have an “accident” (quotes because it’s not really all that unpredictable…I’m a dog and I know it’s going to happen…

The new place

For a few days, it was like we were camping – beans out of a can, walking around the yard, sleeping wherever you drop – it was pretty nice, actually.  Then, out of nowhere the other day, the girl shows up, and a few days later a huge truck shows up with 42,000 giant cardboard boxes.

I don’t like cardboard boxes.

It’s a rescue thing, you wouldn’t understand.  Suffice to say, there’s a euphemism among the twilight bark set called “going out to the farm.”  It usually starts off well, with Fluffy, the happy, barky pet.  Maybe she barks a little too much, but the family gets the great idea that she’ll be happier “on the farm”   Next thing you know, she’s scooped into a cardboard box and packed into the car (sound familiar???).

Noone ever sees Fluffy again.

I don’t know if there’s a farm or not, but I’m happy with my family, no matter what the heck is going on lately.  I am very wary about these boxes, though…

Settling in

Boy was I happy that they started opening boxes, and ALL OUR STUFF WAS IN THERE!!!!  My toys and everything.  Man did I breathe a sigh of relief.

I’m still not going anywhere near the pool, but the kids found some amazing trails near the house that I can lead them through.

It’s still hot, but little by little, this is starting to feel more like home.

Kids in school

The last week or two (or ten?? – time is a little abstract for me), the kids have been back in school – the older one has football practice, in the morning so the heat doesn’t kill them all -  suboptimal – and the younger one is settling in as well, but you know what that means:

Me and the girl staring at each other for 8 hours a day.

In Chicago, she had 14 million friends, so she was hardly ever in the house, so I was free to do my rounds or whatever without interference.  Not here…  “Hey, Chauncey, you wanna go outside?” or my favorite: “Who’s a good boy, yes?”  I don’t know what it means, either…  Anyway – I can’t wait for her to get some friends, already, so I can get into some kind of routine.  Oh, no…what if she never gets any friends, and it’s just her and me ALL DAY, EVERY DAY!!!   Owwwwooooooooooo…..

Wildfires

My nose picked something up last weekend, and I heard from them talking that there have been some pretty bad fires around here lately.  I think that may be why we left Chicago – I heard something about a cow burning down the whole place, but I didn’t see anything like that when we left.  Stupid cows, even more than stupid humans…

I hope everyone near the fire is OK, our prayers go out to them - don’t forget that as long as we have our family with us and safe, it doesn’t really matter that much where home is after all…


Arf.

How's a dog supposed to get to Yee-Haw-Texas??

So, apparently there’s house for us to move down to in Yee-Haw-Texas (or YHT, sung to the theme of The Green Hornet – but that’s a YouTube for another day).  I know some of you were concerned.  Well, not necessarily concerned, but, pruriently interested in how I would suffer because of a lack of housing in YHT.  All I know is there’d better be a pool and a water dish.

The only problem is that airlines are simply not fit for a dog to use for travel (a real dog, not one that fits in a purse).  Nowhere to run, too much noise, simply unacceptable.  But, wait…the people are going by plane (it’s good enough for them, I suppose), and the stuff is going by truck…uh, oh…I’m back to the vision of me sitting, alone, with a couple of weeks worth of food in a big bowl, and an oversized hamster water bottle taped to the wall.  Not good.  More nightmares, and more reason for dog-human friction around here – not good.  Anyone have any good ideas??  Somebody reading this has to have moved with their family before…anyone???

So, with all that going on, it’s been a tough week to focus on my rounds.  Plus it’s hot.  But sometimes the kids do something that makes you forget you’re sweating through your fur.

A while ago the youngest one won some money (well, in an NCAA pool, if you must know), and he did something you never expect a kid to do.  He didn’t ask if he could get a new video game, or a bike – he asked if he could give some to charity.  I’d forgotten about that (Dog.  Short Attention Span.  Squirrels…) until recently.    So, a friend of ours is connected to Ravenswood Community Services, which provides hunger and poverty relief, health services, and life skills education in the Ravenswood and Uptown neighborhoods of Chicago, and that’s where the kid decided to help.   Makes me glad I picked this family.

I know what it’s like to live in a box.  I didn’t like it. 

I kid around about the guys around here, but, hey, who can complain about 3 hots and a cot… (well, 2 half-bowls of kibble and anywhere in the house I choose to collapse) 

At least we have a house.  Find somebody who loves you, jump up on them, and lick their face. 

Do it today.

Arf.

There oughta be a law...no, really, there oughta be...

So, we haven’t even moved to yee-haw Texas, yet (long story for another day), and I’m already getting discriminated against. (I think it's cause I'm a Tennessee hound...)

I hear we’re getting a nice new house for the rest of the year ‘til they find a real one, which is OK by me - nothing left to chew in this one, anyway. I hear it has a pool and a real yard. Ok, I thinks, TX can be livable after all.

“Keep walkin’, buddy - Small dogs only”

I’m sure I’m gonna get hit for this…

Arf.

social contracts are for sissies

So the old man’s been playing Bioshock and reading Ayn Rand books. Talking about how his “city was betrayed…by the weak” and other such nonsense. This can’t be good. The girl thinks he’s a little off his rocker. I’m not scared, yet – hey, they’re still feeding me – but I see both points. When things are obviously in trouble, you shouldn’t panic, but when does buying gold and poring over C-SPAN transcripts of Fed meetings start to be the rational thing to do?

It’s got me thinking, though. We have a deal here – the humans and me - a kind of “social contract” (can there really be such a thing?) that says how we’re going to treat each other, and what we expect of each other. I keep the house free from cats and they do whatever it is they do to keep the food in the dish.

What if I thought it would be great if the city tore down the house and made it a dog park? I could talk to the other dogs in the neighborhood and they could think it was a great idea... but can I really start a petition to get it done? While I’m living in the house, eating their food and playing with their kids?? Doesn’t that break our deal? How? I haven’t bitten a kid, or let a cat live in the yard… still, it wouldn’t feel right. Like I was violating the trust of my humans… If I was truly evil it would be OK, because a dog park sounds sweet…

Too much thinking, and this is hard. I mean, in real life, if someone you don’t know tries to take your ball or mess with your humans, it’s not hard. You know they don’t care about any stinking contract.

You bite ‘em.

Hard. Or they’ll do it again.

…back to watching the pretty underwater city…

Arf.

Atlas Shrugged, I hope you won't...

I know it's been a looong time between posts, but I'm a dog - and I get no treats for posting...

(actually, there's a lot going on in this dog's life:
- long weekend for the adults at SXSW in Austin - what a great town
- the idiot executor of the Twain estate editing classics - original reason for blogstrike
- squirrels
hope to share in more posts this week)

What I've mostly been doing for the last couple of months is reading through Atlas Shrugged. The adults were talking about the book, and a new movie adaptation of Part I that got released last week...

they saw the movie on opening night Friday. Apparently, it was very true to the book, which is good, but the book is 1000+ pages of exposition, which doesn’t necessarily lend well to the screen. This is neither a Michael Bay explosion-fest nor a Spielberg, when he's his most interesting, shallow dive (necessary for a mass audience) into deeper societal issues. This is a movie largely, and somewhat lovingly, created for the converted. If the book is important to you, you’ll overlook the production’s shortcomings – if not, you’ll likely wonder what the fuss is about the book.

They both enjoyed the movie, and would see sequels if they’re made. The longest-term benefit the movie will have is prompting the dad into another rereading of the source.

My rating:

Hovering dog (that's 4 paws up) for the idea of this movie.
2.5 paws for the actual execution, but that's actually ok.
0.0 paws for the unfortunately low KKR*

No dogs were harmed (or even visible, apparently) in this movie.

- Arf

(*KKR is a reference to a wonderful mainframe game/coding example called CATWARS from a million years ago. If you must know, it stands for Kitty Kill Ratio - you were rewarded in this game not only for removing the neighborhood of cats, but for doing it efficiently, keeping your KKR-per-turn high.

sigh - they just don't make games like this anymore)

More posts later this week. I promise.

Unless I forget.

- ReArf

To all a good night, already...

I hate vacation time.  Everyone’s always around the house lately.  I can’t get my regular job done, or find some peace and quiet to just collect my thoughts, let alone scratch my butt and avoid being run over by R/C cars.  …I can only choose one…

So anyway – big paws-up to the thousands of you who’ve been sending cards and notes of sympathy about how badly I’ve been treated, especially in this normally festive of holiday seasons, but I have to single out two people in particular for whom I will always wag a little faster whenever I think of them.

First of all, who is this Claws guy?  I’d spent a month staking out the various places a robber with big claws could gain entry to the house (I figured this is where the term “Cat Burglar” started).  The big night comes, and, nothing!  I did my last rounds about 11 or 11:15.  The kids were down, the bigs were still up (with a fire – it’s still scary, but it is warm…).  I never know when they finally go to sleep, so I figured I’d catch a little nap while they were up.  Couldn’t have been asleep more than 15 min (I swear!), and when I went upstairs there were millions of beautiful presents around the tree.  I think I got some salt in my eye, or something, when I saw it…  Plus, there was even a stocking with a ‘C’ on it for me!!  There was a giant Dingo candy cane in it, and a giant rawhide bone bigger than my whole body. 

Claws – I don’t know how you got past me, but, well played, and thank you again.

Finally, apparently I have a kennel in Florida that’s watching my back – Let’s just say I got a secret note from a remote outpost – if things get too bad here, maybe I can cheese it down there for a while.  You know that people who send gourmet dog treats (in Chinese take out boxes so the stupid humans don’t get wise) have never starved a dog.  I’m sure the treats (yeah, and the note) will keep me going throughout this long cold winter.

(Secret coded message: Istine-Cray: anks-thay or-fay the eats-tray.  Ou-yay ock-ray).  HEY - Whatever you do, don't highlight the secret message and STOP trying to figure it out!  It isn’t for you and my mad crypto skills will only make your tiny brain hurt.

What, you ask, nothing else about the family??  FEH on the family.  They drove me to this blog, didn’t they?  They stopped feeding me, didn’t they?  They terrorized me with their loud, fast toys, didn’t they?   If it weren’t for the little things – the kids were very cute in their Blackhawk jerseys, the tree (and the fireplace, too) is starting to grow on me a little, and it was nice to see the big ones relax and have some fun this weekend - I might start to think cats were right all along…

Thanks to Jay, for making a wonderful dinner (even though all I could do was smell it), and to Jennifer for not hitting me too hard (hey – you’re new, it’s MY house – I get to sniff J). 

Merry Christmas to everyone in and around my family.

Arf.

....weak...with....hunger....

...i'll try to stay focused long enough to get this post out....if I pass out, please send help...

Last Thursday was Thanksgiving, which we all know is an annual holiday for giving thanks for the dogs in your life.  All that turkey and gravy and potatoes get tested for poison at the big table, and work their way down to my dish.  It's a tradition.

Not this year.

I've been living through one of the most cruel and vile events ever to occur to a dog.  I've been biting my leg a little - nothing serious (I'm a dog, remember??), but the girl started freaking out - so she scheduled a visit to the vet on Friday, after they came back from their little dinner trip on Thursday with mountains of leftovers in tow.

I get into the vet's office, little Bark Rarve statue - I figure everything's cool.  I kid you not - the first words out of her lying mouth are "My Goddd.  Look how fat that dog is.  Oh-my-goodness, I don't think we all can fit in the same examining room."  And it begins.

We left there with a mountain of pills and wipes and salves all meant to trim me down to size.  That would have been OK, but the final killer edicts were "A little more tea.  Cut down on the rice." which roughly translates to "cut the food in his dish in half, no human food, and no treats except for things you know he won't eat, like carrots or beans".  As a practical matter, this means NO turkey, NO stuffing, NO gravy, NO NOTHING.   Dear God - is this how you repay my loyalty...  It's only been a few days, and I've wasted away to nothing...well...almost nothing...

...getting faint, will try to post more soon...send help (AND FOOD) if you can...mother, is that you??.....

...Arf...