My Sweet Spots

In spite of B and J's best efforts I continue to be in good spirits. My spots have returned to my leg and I have returned to my favorite spots like the sofa downstairs. I really want to be snotty and irritated with the Oppressors, but for whatever reason I can't be. It isn't that they have been treating me any differently, just that I am feeling good. My appetite is back in full effect and my leg feels normal. I hope that the X-rays in a few weeks show that my leg is as good as it feels.

B and J went to see Michael Clayton without me and while I should be rather annoyed with them about it I have been dozing on the couch imagining that J's hand petting me is actually Mr Clooney's. All in all it is probably better to daydream about George than to see a stupid movie about stressed out lawyers.

The Chipmunk Movie is Doomed

So, my recovery is going well. The shaved turkey drumstick leg is once again covered in luscious heeler spots, I am once again able to trot a little bit on my daily walks, and I have vowed to savor every last chunk of kibble dusted in this magical ligament repair powder supplement that B and J procured for me. Things are looking up...

However, the thought that the following picture was created by an ostensibly rational human being is just about enough to make me relapse into a shuddering, weak mess who barely has the strength to get up on my favorite couch.

Not only does this mean that there is a totally unnecessary Alvin and the Chipmunks movie coming out, but I haven't been this uncomfortable since I watched the YouTube video featuring Karl Rove rapping at the White House Press Corps Association dinner.

Rocky Mountain Water

Things have been going well lately. I got the staples out of my leg and it is working better and better. B and J are still being nice to me even though they are busy. I'm a little annoyed that J hasn't been taking me to work as much this week, but the weather has been nice and I have been able to enjoy the sun.

I really like the dead patch of grass in my backyard. Due to my injury I have been spending more time back there and have regularly been taking care of my "business" back there. I usually prefer to do this in other people's yards so B or J have to pick it up. Making them pick up my poo and carry it around is sweet revenge for all the things they do that annoy me and it got me thinking about ways I can take revenge on B and J in spite of my injury.

It all came together for me when I heard the phrase "poo rolls down hill." Our new house is on a hill and at the bottom of that hill next to a stream that runs near our house is a factory. The factory makes beer that boasts that it comes from fresh rocky mountain water. B and J enjoy their beer with some regularity. So here I am basking on the dead grass with a view of the factory hoping that my poo rolls down hill far enough...

Queen of Carthage

I have just heard some sad news. A feline companion of mine has passed away. I certainly won't miss her, but it makes me sad nevertheless. Dido was a cat who commanded respect, and while I certainly didn't like her I did respect her (she didn't give me a choice). Her loss will also make my close friend Cathy very sad which in turn makes me sad. Dido was a survivor and despite the best efforts of the cretins who dumped her in a rural field as a kitten and the foxes who lived near that field she lived to be pretty old. She apparently charmed B's family and inserted herself into their lives. She could have hidden and starved, but instead she went out and found herself a home. She was all black and so was named after the Queen of Carthage who battled the Romans and who may or may not have also had black hair.

In other news my leg is doing better. I am allowed to go on 10 minute walks and have been spending a lot of time at J's office which I like a lot. B took me to physical therapy yesterday and learned how to stretch my leg which isn't very much fun at all. I have also been able to resist licking my incisions so I don't have to wear the martini glass cone on my head anymore. Overall my life is pretty good. I get my stitches out next week.

Forecast: Lame

I would like to commence my healing process with a series of impressions.
1.Check me out! I'm a bike with a kickstand!

Actually, B and J were able to remove my bandage today, replacing my peg leg from yesterday with a hairless, stapled, sore leg that resembles a turkey drumstick.

2. Oh, take your pick. I'm an easy target right now. Cement mixer, modernist lampshade, satellite dish, whatever... At least I get good reception. I can't even get this picture to flip over but I'm leaving it this way so that you, dear reader, can have just a little taste of how much I just don't care right now.


This whole surgery thing has really messed with my joie de vivre. The Great Oppressors will never get away with this. Seriously, they had better not $%^& with me.

Step off, people...

Why me???

Sorry it has been so long since my last post. The last month has really sucked and the extended forecast is not looking that great. My slightly gimpy leg turned out to be messed up! Apparently I blew out my knee. What gives? I don't even ski. I hate skiing! So I will do my best to look on the bright side and keep a positive mental attitude. This is why I am in a bad mood.



I got home from knee surgery today. B and J took me to the hospital two days ago and I was poked, prodded, x-rayed, knocked out, shaved, cut open, had my tibia sawn in half, got bolted back together, and woke up in the loving arms of Atom. Since I am trying to focus on the bright side of this all I will think of Atom. He is dreamy. He looks like he belongs on the cover of a romance novel. His job at the hospital is to stay with patients as they wake up from surgery. His rippling arms, glorious cheekbones, and chiseled features definitely helped me take my mind off my plight.

Here are some other reasons for me to look on the bright side. I learned that Heelers are some of the longest living dogs in the world. A cousin of mine in Australia lived to be 29! Also my leg might work right again. Also I get my bandage off tomorrow. I can't think of too much else right now. I'll try to keep any readers that might still be out there posted.

Guess Who's Back?

So, let me explain.

While I am loathe to admit that the movements of my Great Oppressors had such a dramatic effect on my literary output, I fear it is time to admit just that. It has been crazy around here, folks. Nuts. First J got her new job, which certainly cut into the free time on her computer. Then B left for Oregon and I got to drive with my Grandogma out to upstate New York for the summer. It's like the Fresh Air Fund for Dogs... It was a good summer. I caught some woodchucks, rolled in some poop, and ate lots of corn on the cob. There was the wedding of Ben's brother in Vermont, which B and J flew out for. I found this to be somewhat confusing, but the wedding was great fun and I'm glad B and J could make it for the festivities.

On a bit of a down note, my hip is giving me trouble and I've been limping around some. However, I am determined to not tripod around for the rest of my days. If Stallone can be Rocky Balboa, I can recover the use of my hind leg enough to boss everyone around at the dog park.

And on the last up note, we are currently driving back out to Colorado to reunite me with the Great Oppressors. Although their activities have cramped my blogging style, I'll admit that I have missed them somewhat. It will be good to be home!

I, Slacker

Hey All,
I know it's been a while. What can I say? The hectic travel schedule and other commitments of the Great Oppressors have kept me from the computer. B and J visited Europe, New York, Vermont, and Montana while I hung out with my new chubby buddies Buster and Blue. I pretty much owned that place. Let's just say they didn't put up much of a fight when I defended my kibble. Their Great Oppressor was kind enough to share the bed with me, so it beat dog camp hands down. I'm awesome.

So, the main reason I'm writing is because someone was crazy enough to hire J for a real job with real benefits, not the least of which is working for nice people in her chosen field. I'm not quite sure how I feel about this since it means that I will have to spend more time alone in the house, but I looked at the going price of hamburger these days and by my calculations, J will be able to purchase around 10,000 pounds of premium hamburger with her annual salary. Now, that might not be much in the grand scheme of Great Oppressor wage scales, but I see that as great news for yours truly since this is steady work that pays quite well for a nonprofit. I'm sure that the only reason the Great Os have been feeding me kibble for all these years is tied to J's meager-paying jobs, but no more! I can't wait for the meat to start rolling in. This is very exciting news! Laisser le bon temps roulez!!!!!

Conspiracy Nuts

There is a disturbance in the Force. Meet "Twiggy," the famous Water Skiing Squirrel.

Twiggy never goes in the water without her little squirrel-sized lifejacket and is an advocate for water safety, traveling to boat shows around the country in her custom RV and spreading the good word about tips like entering the water feet first while jumping in. This is either another example of exploitation on the part of the Great Oppressors or the squirrel is planning something. I just don't trust her. Look at the beady little eyes. According to the site, Twiggy's "parents" have also trained two miniature horses, two French poodles, a black cat, an armadillo and a toad frog to water ski. I'm willing to guess the animals haven't been allowed to form any sort of worker's union.

Water safety is very important, don't get me wrong. J had some acquaintances who went to Lake Havasu every year in college who brought back tales of near-drownings coupled with fraternity/sororiety debauchery. It sounded awful, an entire reservoir filled with watercraft containing college students making bad decisions. When I saw Twiggy's website, I had visions of "Twiggy Goes to Lake Havasu." She'd spend the entire spring break riding behind her little motorized speedboat, making laps around rented watercraft filled with drunken frat boys playing quarters and beer pong in the hot sun, all the while Twiggy's "mom" Lou Ann shouting at the college kids through a megaphone trying to get them to wear PFDs and wait at least an hour after taking another Jaeger shot to get back in the water.

The streaming video available at Twiggy's official site is really the best way of getting a full sense of Twiggy's glory, but here is a small taste of Twiggy on YouTube. Enjoy!

ASSpen and Flail

Well my body's immune system finally woke from its slumber and slayed the beast that was making me ill. In celebration I went on a mini road trip with B and J to the mountains of Colorado. We visited some friends and B and J went skiing at Aspen and Vail. That's right "I'm talking about Aspen, where the water flows like wine." I spent some time in the car parked in downtown Aspen while B and J met up with some friends after skiing. I'm a natural people watcher and there were definitely some interesting people to watch walking past the car early on Friday night. My favorite was the chubby guy who is obviously some corporate lawyer type from NY dressed like a cowboy. Didn't he see Dumb and Dumber??? I mean really.

I also had an idea for a t-shirt that hopefully will be arriving at J's Cafe Press site soon. It will read something like the following "How many animals had to die just so you could look stupid???" I felt like I was at some nightmare version of the dogpark with all the fur that was walking past the car.

I had a good trip though. It was nice to get out of the house for a few days.

Sick Of It All

Well I'm sick. It sucks. My eyes are all gooey and I don't have much energy. I've got some sort of flu bug and it has been winning so far. I wish B and J would give me some saltines and triscuits like they eat when they get sick.

Since B and J don't have any television I've had to do my best to entertain myself with the internet. The web really does fill the same niche as the VH1 shows I'd be watching and getting annoyed with if the Great O's had the tele. For example:


I mean really does it get any more VH1 than that??? It has been nice catching up on old videos from my favorite Austrian popstar. Hopefully I'll be feeling better soon.

Grizzly Homicides

Well, this is it. I have designated Sunday as Sid Day. My day of rest. My designated blogging day ( I might be able to ramp up production again once the Great Oppressors stop freaking me out with the demands of Great Oppressor existence, but for now that's all I can commit to). My day to sink my weary head into my favorite pillow and wonder if anything of interest will happen around here. Unlikely.

Here is what J has been up to lately. People keep asking her what she is up to and she really can't think of much to say other than "working on the thesis." Here is a quote to shed some light on her project.

"This emphasis on local collaboration is viewed by Weber (2000) as a practical approach in an age where population increases and demands for recreational opportunities make it apparent that humans are not living separately from nature nor are viewing it purely as a resource for exploitation. Analyses of U.S. Census Bureau data from 1970, 1980, 1990, and 2000 compiled with data from the U.S. Geological Survey revealed that the majority of counties that contain federal lands experienced population growth larger than in counties without these types of lands regardless of metropolitan status or region (Frentz, Farmer, Guldin, & Smith, 2004)." - Great Oppressor J's Crappy Thesis Project that Will Never Be Finished. Blah blah blah blah blah blah.

I mean, honestly? SO BORING, and this is what she takes the computer up with ALL DAY when she isn't obsessively looking for jobs and watching promotional videos for a bidet. It's no wonder I haven't been able to keep up on the DogBlogoSphere. At least J still gets to grade student papers and find typos like this one...

"The film follows the police investigation of a grizzly homicide in 1950's Hollywood."

I need to go back to graduate school. Why does J get to have all the fun?

Catwalkin' Baby

I'm confused. Was a plate of noodles animated by a bolt of lightning and allowed to enter the Westminster Dog Show? I've always had a fondness for the Mighty Kormondor or Commodore or Komodo dragon or whatever this thing is, but this one looks like Chinese food. I bet this guy doesn't get to go to the dog park.

I Am Still Here

Sorry I haven't posted in a while, but my tenth birthday has given me some reasons for pause. What is my purpose in life? Does it really matter that I'm ten years old and yet haven't achieved milestones such as a monogamous relationship or perhaps ownership of some well-performing stocks? I like to think that it doesn't matter. My life is reasonably fulfilling. Yet I find that at times like this, it's important to take stock of life's treasures and of life's inherent challenges. This hasn't been easy of late considering B's busy work schedule and J's stresses about the thesis in combination with job interviews. Yet despite the difficulties posed by the Great Oppressors' insistence upon dwelling on life's roadbumps, I have spent many hours on the blue couch deciding what my next move will be. Considering that Joe Biden's recent attempt at simultaneously entering and exiting the presidential race may have left an opening, I am seriously considering a run for the highest office in the land. Let me think upon this...

A Decade of Accomplishment

There is a small billboard near our home which reads "A life is measured by experiences" or something new-agey like that. The funny thing is that the slogan is an ad for Miller Genuine Draft Beer. I'm pretty sure that most MGD drinkers would rather if their lives weren't measured by their MGD experiences. I think that B and J would vouch for that.

I have reached a point where it is time for me to lay back and ponder my life. You see, I just turned 10 years old. It will be 10 years in January when J went to the Nampa, Idaho Animal Shelter and rescued me. I prefer to look at it more as if I rescued myself as I quickly sized up J as a good person as far as people go. With this assessment in mind I made eye contact with her and watched her pace the kennels which showed her that I am smart because she read somewhere that dogs who track well visually are usually smart or something like that. Anyhow due mainly to my intelligence and eye contact (and not barking like the other poor dogs in the shelter) I started my journey...

So here I am 10 years later. What have I accomplished? You see I am a working dog so accomplishment is important. I can show you something I haven't accomplished:

This chubby little squirrel has the nuts to walk around on my fence!!! If only he knew what I am capable of. You see in my life of accomplishment one of the things I am proudest of is that I am something of a hunter. This may seem morbid to some of you out there in blogland but it is who I am. I am a killer...

I have decided to dedicate my next few entries to some of the highlights of the last 10 years.

Christmas Classics from YouTube

This is the time of year that the Great Oppressors dread going to the grocery store for a number of reasons. Of course, I'd be happy to go to the grocery store for them but they have thus far ignored my entreaties to do so. Yet more proof that life is brutally unfair. Apparently, the grocery store near our house plays Christmas songs at a louder volume than their usual, non-holiday musical selections. Add this to the prerecorded sound of a thunderstorm that goes off before they mist water on the produce, a parking lot that is now a complete free-for-all with the recent heavy snow, and the creepy female Hal-esque voice on the self-checkout aisle (Would you like any coupons? Thank you for shopping at KING SOOPER'S!!!) and you have a recipe for stress. I haven't heard much Christmas music since there is a house gag rule on it, but it seems to me like Christmas music is not a genre that should be played incessantly on loudspeakers while the Great Oppressors desperately try to escape the store with their sanity intact. Not that it's all bad. I think my Great Oppressors would be much happier if they played the following song as they shopped. Here's a classic song of yuletide cheer from Run DMC to drive that version of Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree out of your head.

Snow Day

So, the Great Oppressors and I are hunkered down here in lovely Denver, where a fun-filled state of emergency was declared due to the gigormous snowstorm that pummeled Colorado. J managed to get out early yesterday morning to grab the requisite supplies of food, movies, several episodes of Big Love, and booze. B did a nice job clearing our walk with only an avalanche shovel. We could use a real snowshovel for Festivus. At first, I thought that B and J might stage a reenactment of the Shining (that's odd... The blood usually gets off at the second floor...) but now they seem to be enjoying being cooped up in the house together lounging around guilt-free. As you can see by the following sets of pictures, there is a lot of snow here (somewhere around two feet).

Our back yard.


J's car in the front of the house.







B with his long black molester coat shoveling the front walk. I'm doing my best impression of a government supervisor.









J took me for a walk in the street.
















The neighborhood Christmas decorations have seen better days. Not to be an alarmist, but I do have to point out the unfortunate resemblance to a meeting of a certain Southern fraternal organization.




Here I am, relaxing at my rightful place on the couch. All is well here. It's a Festivus miracle!

Blahgging

I'll admit that my heart just hasn't been in it lately. Blogging used to give me such pleasure, and now I'll admit to having a creative slump. I've been thinking about something to write about for days, but haven't been able to bang anything out. Perhaps it is because J has been hogging the computer again. But this is just an excuse... I need to get back on the blogging horse. So, I thought I would start off with some easy targets. Here are some pictures of dog clothes that I found.

You know, so many things come to mind. I'll just, um, yeah...





Yar!!!! Ahoy all ye pirates! In case ye are allergic to parrots ye can carry around a wee dog in a Louis Vuitton bag! Yar!!!
















And for a trick, this dog's Great Oppressor makes him pick up trash on the side of the highway.











The caption for this outfit reads "Bubble Gum scented and glows in the dark! Available in girls only. Care: Machine wash gentle in cool water and tumble dry on low heat. Your pets' body heat will re-energize the scent to enjoy for quite some time." I can think of worse things than smelling like bubble gum and then subsequently recharging the foul stench of bubble gum when I exert myself. Or at least I will think of worse things. Just let me think about this for a while. I'll get back to you.



On the bright side, I suppose that humans do sometimes like to dress up like us as well. What goes around comes around!

Shocking

So, I was perusing Petfinder to find heeler mixes willing to join my revolution and discovered indications of an unsettling juxtaposition of good and evil. Prepare to be shocked, nay, terrified by the following picture. According to Petfinder, "Mary" is supposedly an Australian Cattle Dog/Blue Heeler mix. Size - medium. Age - baby.


Now, I don't know what find of place this "Animal Adoption Center" in Jackson, Wyoming is, but I fear it is run by halfwits. Does someone honestly believe that "Mary" here is an Australian Cattle Dog or was this an honest mistake? I say it matters not! Either way, this is an abomination!!! I am calling the Australian Cattle Dog Anti-Defamation League immediately.

Now, I tried to find out more about "Mary," but the good folks at the "Animal Adoption Center" only left the following note...'Notes: For more info on this pet, as well as who we are and our adoption process, please go to our website animaladoptioncenter.org We welcome out-of-area adopters, but please be aware we do require prospective adopters to come to our facility and meet the animal in person, as well as foster for a minimum of one night in the area.'

Oh, it all sounds SO innocent doesn't it? I'm not ruling out some kind of conspiracy here. Maybe "Mary" is the real brains behind the outfit here, hoping to snag some unsuspecting Great Oppressors looking to adopt a heeler. Do prospective owners show up at the "shelter" only to find this gray cat with a handwritten note attached to its collar, scrawled out in barely legible kitty-scratches "I AM AN AUSSTRAYLIAN CAT TELL DAWG. PLEAZ TAYK MEE HOME!!!" Does this creature honestly expect to fool people? What it is plotting? Ladies and gentlement, a true Petfinder mystery. Solve it... IF YOU DARE!

The Story of Sid

Hey there. Sorry I've been out of touch for a week now but I've been trying to figure out how to upload photos from Great Oppressor J's phone. I mean, it's hard to figure out the buttons on the phone without opposable thumbs. But I've puzzled out this uploading thing and now I can FINALLY post these pictures of a love interest of mine from this summer. I'm thinking of including these shots with my manuscript of erotic dog stories that I hope to see published soon. Good erotica is hard to write, and I really think that erotic dog stories have a lot of potential as a market. I mean, have YOU ever been able to find high-quality dog erotica at your local bookstore? Didn't think so. Anyway, I think these pictures really capture the heat of the moment. Meet Freddy.

Here is Freddy as he attempts to woo me.

Oh yes... YES!!!!! YES!!!! No one has ever made me feel like this!!!

Anyone got a cigarette?