Squid Jerky

Hello again. Sorry that I have been away from the blog for a while but I have been very busy being old. I just experienced a new treat that I just have to share with you all out there. You see B just returned from a trip to Korea and Japan. While I have tried to keep B and J's identities relatively secret if any of you are playing guessing games I assure that B is not a member of the NY Philharmonic. Far from it.

Anyhow B has been over there before which made this trip even less interesting than usual for me except that this time he brought me back a snack. You see the Japanese seem to define food as being whatever ends up in the fishing net. It could be seaweed, tuna, weird things with eyes, or squid. That's right squid. B was nice enough to bring me back some squid jerky from Japan. I'm glad he didn't buy me any jerky in Korea who knows what could be in that!


He tells me that you buy it in highway rest stops just like here in the states. Sort of like Jack Links only Tentacle Links.

Mmm Tasty!

Rocky the idiot savant likes it.

It is a bit chewy though. It was nice of B to bring me a treat from far away. To bad he and J can't bring me treats from nearby very often!!!

Welcome to the Heelerdome

Why, hello.

How lovely to see you. I am sorry Comrade Sid has neglected her duties as our designated scribe but things have been positively bustling around here at the Heelerdome. The Great Oppressors seem to have been taken in by my "poor little rescue dog found in a cornfield in Kansas" cover story and I've established myself in the family unit quite nicely. With the help of Comrade Sid, who has been residing here in deep cover for 11 years, I've been spending my time here getting to know the weaknesses, routines, and established patterns of this particular pair of Great Oppressors. While of course I will not rest until we dogs can overthrow all Great Oppressors, I'm pleased to report that I'm getting treated pretty well while I'm here devising clever schemes. Although the Oppressors are holding steady on certain ground rules, I'm quite certain it's only a matter of time before I can turn the situation completely to my advantage. Until then, I am seeing just how well my facade of abandoned Kansas cornfield urchin can disguise my attempts at subterfuge.

My first act of sabotage was to destroy some dangerous human propaganda before B and J had the chance to really absorb its teachings.


Ha! Take that, foul hypnotist! Your mind control schemes are no match for my intellect!


My second act was to gain access to J's place of employment, where I could study other Great Oppressors in their natural environment. I discovered that there is an unlimited supply of dog treats called "Z Filets" and other high-quality meat products at J's office, so I am devising a plan to redistribute some wealth soon, if you catch my drift.




Third act is ongoing... TURN ON THE CHARM!!!!!!! This is war, and I intend to bend them to my will. Don't we look sweet in this picture? I would wager that anyone who licks their computer screen right now will be greeted with a taste reminiscent of honey on a summer's morn.



That's right, the heelers will control the means of production! Don't let Sid's comatose demeanor fool you. We are a force to be reckoned with. Take us to your pack leader when the signs point to revolution, and we shall lead you to a new dawn!

The Return of B

Well, it's been another long week here at the Heelersphere. B returned from his long trip to Europe and a stretch of 58 hours with only 5 hours of sleep only to find a new dog who was less than tolerant of his presence. Rocky greeted his new Great Oppressor with a combination of growls and barks, calming down only when B retreated to the bedroom and slept for 15 hours straight.



When he emerged from hibernation, I rather enjoyed some time spent with B on the couch doing some light reading. Normally I would replace B's visage with the head of George Clooney to protect his anonymity and give me something dreamy to look at, but J no longer has Photoshop on her computer so I'm breaking protocol here.


Since Friday, we have been slowly cracking Rocky's shell of fear. When J leaves, Rocky no longer barks at B for long stretches of time. Rocky allows B to lead him on walks, will take food from B's hand, and even allows the odd pet before he forgets that he is terrified of him. He still growls when Ben emerges from the basement, but hey, who doesn't?



B also went on a cleaning spree, which was much appreciated by all other Heelersphere residents. It is nice to see his jet lag dissipate along with Rocky's fear. Otherwise, not much to report here. Nothing to see here, people. Nothing to see...

Vive le Weekend

Well, still a little tired from this weekend of milestones. Not only was it a busy weekend for the world of the Great Oppressors (Golden Globes press conference! Dread Dallas Cowboys defeated! Cowboy approach to foreign policy on the part of another Texan continues!), but we were busy here in the Heelersphere as well. Observe...

J, Rocky, and I went to the dog park just outside of Golden for some socialization time. There were some nice dogs here, and we all enjoyed chasing Rocky around the compound. J met some nice fellow Great Oppressors as well, although she could have done without the snooty woman who bred Jack Russells and said something to the effect of "well, he [Rocky] seems like a good dog for a rescue dog." You know, I'm a bitch but that doesn't mean I appreciate listening to the two-legged ones, particularly when they're elitists.


At any rate, Rocky is slowly getting used to the idea of two-legged males. He sat next to this guy for a couple of minutes, although he still wasn't entirely sure if this was a good idea or not.



It was a busy weekend for J as well. Some of her friends came over on Sunday to train for some event called "Geek Bowl," a local trivia event with a cash prize. It was really just an excuse to inflict two indignities on Rocky and me.
1. Squawkers McCaw.



Squawkers, pictured here, is an animatronic parrot that speaks, blinks its eyes, snores, flaps its wings, etc. Utterly creepy. It is trainable, so the Great Oppressors have trained it to speak Samuel L. Jackson sound clips from the Internet. Sometimes I wonder why we dogs have chosen to hitch our wagon to their star.

2. Deep Blue Sea. There was a viewing of this "film" in our basement shortly after the geek study period ended. I won't try to explain how bad it is for the benefit of those who have thus far avoided it. I'll just include the pivotal moment in the film here to illustrate my point.

A shark ate me!

Readers (or reader...), I fear what J has in store for next weekend. B needs to come home soon!

Strange Things Are Afoot

Relationships are a great deal of work. What with all the demands on our time and energies, it's a wonder anyone bothers at all. Take Rocky and myself, for instance. J has stepped up our exercise routine considerably, and we've been getting two hours of walking in each day. This is great and all, but I'll admit that I seem to tire a bit more easily than I used to. I was so exhausted from the walks that I didn't even notice this boot underneath my head until several embarrassing shots were taken. In fact, I'm so tired that I can't really think of much to write about. However, I would like to post some more photos of Rocky for the benefit of my relatives so I'll just have to put these up without much commentary.


Some face time on the couch... What would Freud say?


Come to think of it, what would Freud say about the crossed legs? Rocky does this all the time. I think it makes him look distinguished.


He looks so peaceful... Little does Rocky know that B will return soon. I hope we can get him used to human males before that, since I imagine it would be hard for J to convince Ben to sleep in the treehouse since it's been so snowy and cold in Colorado.

Love Shack

It's been a busy couple of days here at Chez Heeler. I have been busy breaking in my new gentleman caller, Rocky, and instructing him in the ways of the world. He has much to learn, but we have been enjoying each other's company. That salt and pepper coat... Those brown eyes... That intelligence... Dare I make a comparison here?

Aren't they both lovely? Despite all that is wrong with the world, one has only to look at either face to see that there is hope left for dog and humankind. It does seem like Rocky is becoming more hopeful and less anxious about life, although J and I discovered on Sunday that Rocky fears men and growls at them. Most of the literature points to a lack of socialization and not abuse at the hands of a male, but J suspects that he was forced to watch Huckabee campaign ads or sees the face of Scalia, Thomas, Roberts, and/or Alito superimposed on the heads of the human men he encounters. If only it were the face of his human doppelganger, George Clooney! Then Rocky would surely be more trusting... Since B is in Europe for two more weeks I hope to help J in her quest to show him that not all men are bad or misguided or strict constructionists. He's not aggressive, just a bit fearful so we are hopeful things will turn around. Paws crossed, because we think he's great.

Some shots from the weekend...





In order to please me, he must learn to please himself...


Isn't he photogenic in this next one? I can never smile for pictures, myself. Maybe he's just pleased about his accomplishments in the previous photo.

Mrs. Robinson

Well, the holidays kind of slipped away from me again. Here it is, 2008 already! This is my 11th year of brightening up the world with my awesomeness, and I have to say it's off to an excellent start thus far. Now that B and J have finally seen the light and purchased a yard and home befitting my lifestyle, it has been possible for me to finally entertain some gentleman callers. Yes, it's time for me to settle down with one man. Enough of this carefree bachelorette lifestyle for me... Yes... 11... It's time.

So, B and J hooked me up with this great dating service called New Hope Cattle Dogs. They're pretty much the bomb, I have to say. The New Hope people, that is. These guys even deliver and shuttle the dates to my house! Most of the dogs come from pretty bad situations, but I find that an intricate past deepens a man and makes him more fascinating. Observe...


This is my first date, Rusty. Rusty and I got along really well when his foster parents were around. Rusty came from Utah and was apparently kicked in the head by a cow. Chicks dig scars, I told him... The people in Utah not only failed to claim Rusty when he was found with a large gash in his head, but they'd already docked his tail! Barbarians!

Rusty and I hit it off, although he has gotten really attached to his foster parents and got pretty upset when they left for a while to pick up a puppy. I'll admit that the sexual tension in the air deflated a bit at this point in the date... He did a lot of pacing and waiting by the window.

While Rusty was very nice (and funny, too. He peed on J's leg! I love a man with a sense of humor), Rusty's foster parents took him home at the end of the date and suggested that I try out some younger men. You see, though I am 11 and just had ACL surgery in October, I am not showing many signs of slowing down thus far. The knowledge that Rusty will still be well taken care of even if he doesn't come to reside here comforted us, so we all agreed to "play the field," so to speak. Today, enter Rocky...


Stunning, isn't he? I mean, I knew there were some nice-looking dogs on the website but I wasn't expecting man candy for this old cougar! He's only 1 year old! Isn't that absolutely SCANDALOUS!!! Tee hee... It was a pretty awesome first date. Rocky's very nice foster mom took him to our house and we hung out for a little while and exchanged pleasantries. Then I found out that he gets to sleep over for a while! J took us for a walk later on and that went well. Then things really started heating up later on.








The new man of the house reclining in his new chair... Looks a little like me in black and white in this shot...


Koo-koo-ka-choo, Mrs. Robinson. Now we have a 3-week trial period to see if this is the right fit, after which Rocky may just stay with us forever. I love Internet dating!

Fanfare for My Leg

On Thanksgiving, J tripped on the power cord to her computer and couldn't charge up the iBook for over a week. This put a total damper on my blogging, but it's been a good week other than that. My leg continues to knit quickly and my spirits are high. I'm even back to peeing standing up! Yes, I'm a bitch but I'm all about breaking gender stereotypes.

Anyway, I'm feeling so good that I decided to put together a little film showcasing my recovery for all of my relatives back east and for anyone out there who enjoys cinema. The resolution on YouTube isn't as good as I'd like, but it will have to do for now. The creek pictured here is none other than Clear Creek, which feeds the mighty Coors Brewery here in Golden. As you will see, the shores of Clear Creek are lined with statues of children and animals. Fascinating!

Weekends Are Nice

Weekends don't usually mean very much when you are a dog. Even when you are a "working" dog. They mean especially little when you work for B and J who have jobs that involve work on the weekends, travel, random days off, and frequently working from home. This weekend was different and I must say that I enjoyed the change. Both of the Oppressors had the weekend off and they spent it at home doing home stuff.

The weather was really nice so they worked on preparing the garden area for the spring. This was a lot of work because the creeper ground cover that B tried to kill with an herbicide didn't die and was hard to remove. B and J got it out of there and transplanted it to the bank in the backyard. They took the sod from the garden areas and put it on my favorite dead spot.

I hope the squirrels who bury their nuts and sunflower seeds from the local bird feeders don't let the new grass stop them. There is a really fat one I've been seeing around who will make a nice trophy for me when my leg is better...

B and J also did other stuff around the house and took me for some walks. All in all it has been a good weekend. You may be wondering what I was doing other than going on those walks. You can probably guess, but in case you can't.

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.