Monday, August 31, 2009

Leech-Free since 2002

Just one of those delightful phrases that I *used* to be able to apply to Miss Piper.

Not anymore.


My sister's wedding reception (aka Big Ass Party) was at Bowen Island this past weekend so we loaded up the dogs and took them over with us. We went a-swimmin', and Piper brought home this leech attached to her stomach. So gross.

It didn't phase Wootie though.

Must retrieve toy for cookies. Must retrieve toy for cookies. Must retrieve toy ...

But it totally gave Tweed the heebie-jeebies.

Eww! Gross! Yuck!

Let's cuddle. No? Why not? What's a little leech between friends??

Piper has balls of steel!

Actually, Piper does NOT have balls of steel. She just really really wishes she did.

Like The Big Steel Ball in the Little Cement Birdbath, which she was unable to remove.

Sneaking up on it did not help.

Staring at it intently was also a bust.

Digging it out of the water looked promising initially, but in the end, the ball defeated her.

However, it kept her entertained for - literally - hours. I mean hours. She was exhausted by the time we left.

Which was a good thing, as it left me free to hunt down Houdini-Woo, who was hunting down Bowen Island chickens. For a fat dog, he sure can squeeze through small spaces.

Oh hai, I'm in the driveway now. You thought an iron gate would keep me in the yard? Why so silly?

I took no photos of it, but Tweed spent the entire party beside the buffet table. Sometimes Piper would go check on his food-mooching progress, but it was too far from The Ball Of Steel.

Tweed's over there eating chicken wings. Are we going back to the fountain now?

Mmm... chicken wings ... straight off the chickens over there ... I wonder if I can get through this thicket?

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

Tweed and Piper Picked A Peck Of Pickled Peppers

Except it was just Tweed, not Piper, and it was blackberries, not peppers.

This afternoon we took a trip out to Dog Heaven in Ladner to walk the poocheroonis. The weather started out kind of sour, but soon turned quite lovely. DH is gorgeous at this time of year.

It was also the land of plenty. We came home overflowing with juicy and tiny little plums:

And loads of the sweet purpley goodness that are blackberries:

Like the world's most awesome, and totally free, farmer's market. They even had frogs available.

How cool is that? And, umm, what kind of frog is that? All I know is that as I asked Auntie Jackie "think it's poisonous?" I was already reaching for it. My sense of danger is smarter than my brain-body connection, apparently.

But anyway, back to the blackberries, the inspiration for today's title.

Today I watched Tweed work something out in his little pee brain: he watched us pick blackberries and put them in our little buckets. He watched the other dogs get fed blackberries from the little buckets. A lightbulb turned over his fuzzy head.

Hmmmm .... I haz an idea ....

He then decided to bypass the middleman (ie, the buckets) and help himself to blackberries right off the plant.


Now I know lots of dogs eat plants out of the garden and whatnot, and even Woo has helped himself to blackberries from time to time. What was interesting to me was watching Tweed's brain work out the connection between the purple yumyums in the bucket and the source - he glanced from me to the bucket a few times, then from the bucket to the plant, then he left the crowd o'canines jostling at my feet and headed straight for the blackberries on the vine and started chowing down. That's deductive reasoning!

Previous to this, the blackberry bushes were just annoyances that tried to grab his wiener when he lifted his leg for a whiz.

Yay! I am so smart!

Me too! Wait, what?

Dog Heaven is a great place to walk the dogs, but it's a pretty far drive just to canoodle with the canines. Don't you wonder what we were doing way out there?

The berry bushes are that way, guys.
Why are you walking away from them?

Well, I woke up this morning and decided that more than anything in the world, I needed some Peanuts. In fact, I was absolutely determined to lay my eyes on 8 peanuts before noon.

Lucky for me, Tess the TDBCR foster dog, had 8 peanuts to share!

Meet Lucy, Sally, Patty, Linus, Charlie, Spike, Schroeder and Franklin!


Tess had her puppies this past Sunday - 3 females, 5 males, all perfect and wonderful little tri colours.

She is being a great mum - a little confused and stressed, but mostly doing wonderfully.

What happened here? As doG as my witness, I will never have sex again!

Well that's true. Tess is going to be spayed once her pups are weaned, and then she'll want a home of her own too.

In the meantime, she is working hard at keeping her little Peanuts safe.

Enough photos. Take facebox and vamonos plz.

I'm rather partial to this little gentleman, Linus:

But they are ALL lovely!

The other 4 boys:

And the little ladies:


You might too - but please, we are not accepting applications for the puppies yet. It will be several more weeks before they are old enough for us to start finding them homes. Also, I need time to find a new home for me so I can have first pick ;-) *sigh* If only that were true.

So. Much. Want.

Oh hai! Don't mind me, I'm just passing through this entry ...

Tuesday, August 18, 2009

The Dog With A Thousand Faces

And all of them look exactly like this:

Get. Your. Camera. OUTTAMYFACE.
Or I'll tear out your heart and shove up your nostrils.

Okay, that's so not fair of me. Sometimes he looks like this:


Poor Tempus the borderjack thinks he is so misunderstood. But we understand him just fine - he is Satanic.

As your Master, I summon thee. Now, kill these humans. ALL these humans.

And it's not like his sister, Rogue, is much better - even though she isn't a borderjack. We think. Or rather, we don't think. Well, to be honest, we aren't really sure WHAT the heck Rogue is. She has this in common with His Wootieness.

I am MISTER(y) WOO. Please refrain from speculation. Thx.

What the heck is Rogue Poguey, AKA, The Angry Coho?

Huwo. You can't peg me. Nope.

Rogue is silvery-blue and white, and squeaked in at just 16" when measured for agility. She is Evil in Training, but lacks the psychotic qualities of her deeply disturbed borderjack sibling.

Also, she is weird.

Any ideas?

As long as it doesn't involve swimming, I don't care what you call me. This liquid is GWOSS!

I'm a booteeful and imperious pwincess. Don't forget that. Or I'll bite you.

Yesterday we tried a new swimmin' hole, called Buntzen Lake. Fiona said it was "an adventure," but I think she just wanted us to go somewhere with water that wouldn't make Toby smell like the mouldy old socks of a long dead man.

It was quite lovely at the lake, very picturesque, and - HEY! GET OUT OF THE SHOT, TWEED!

But I'm so good lookin' :(

From what glimpses of it I could catch, that is. Oh hai, Piper. Yes, I see you.

I said YES, Piper, I DO see you! Jeez!

Well fantastic, you're not blind after all. What good news. Maybe you could see yourself throwing this ball for me then.

Food Lady = slave to a trio of canine whims (Mr. Woo's whim is to sit around doing nothing at all)

Today, the kittens are the vet getting themselves spayed, while their mama, El Gato Negro, roams my condo calling for her little lost children. It kind of breaks your heart. Also your eardrums.

The brown tabby has a home. The black and white whiskerface is meeting what I hope will be her new home on Saturday!

This leaves only EGN and her reign of terror over my poor dogs.

She is a nice cat in her own right, but foldy ears or not, nobody seems to want her :( Black cats get a bum rap.

But why?

Never mind Toby.

But WHY?!?!

Toby shut up. Don't make me summon the Lazy Orange Basketball from its leafy hiding place.

Did someone summon me?

You know when I do that, Piper goes into strange twisty fits.

In other news, Tess the pregnant BC that we flew here a few weeks ago was recently x-rayed and appears to be carrying 8 little bundles of fuzzylump cuteness for us, due sometime in the begining of September. Fingers crossed that all goes well!