So, after several people have informed me how horrible raw hides are for dogs (Suzanne insists her vet, the best there is, promises they are not), I went to the pet store in search of a non-harmful chewing apparatus. I came home with the Bully Stick, and Oliver loved it. I’ll admit it had a stinky odor, but because the salesperson told me it was cow intestines, that was to be expected. I found out last night that it is not cow intestines at all. It is a bull dick, which I somehow find to be a lot sicker than intestines. Even the words, bull dick, are foul.
For those of you who are unfamiliar with the many uses of bull penises, if like to share with you that this is not my first encounter. When my dad passed away, my brother gathered up his keepsake belongings, which included a few cool hats, my grandma’s quilt, and two bull dick walking canes, which I’ve managed to not be able to take home with me on planes, or even in my car last summer.
"
John: do you let him sleep with you?
Me: uh, yeah. Don’t you let Oscar sleep with you?
John: Oscar isn’t really a dog. He is a little gift from heaven.
"Dog brain
We’ve been encountering a new behavior in the Patton zoo. Lately, while Oliver has been sleeping (yes, on the bed with me), and one of the cats comes creeping in like the good ol’ pre-canine days, he gets startled and goes growling and barking quite aggressively after the cat. I have good hope for Peewee’s ability to make it to safe ground, but Mattie, in her reduced calisthenic state, well, I’m a little concerned about her welfare. Nickie has warned me not to put it into the universe (law of attraction) that he will actually eat the cat, so I’m not saying that, but I do have a concern that he will do some damage in his “dog brain” state, as Suzanne calls it. Suggestions welcome.
[Flash 10 is required to watch video]
After school play date with Buster. This is what they do every day. Normally I don’t like my freshly fallen snow to be disturbed, but I watched them tear it up with a smile on my face, from the comfort of my window.
(Gary) Geocacher
On our walk to the lake today, Oliver found a detour, one of those side paths made just for dogs and their lucky owners. The first place he started sniffing around was where the Antrim geocache was hidden, the one where Emily, Suzanne and I first geocached together. I thought for sure he would take me right to the geocache, but he was about as far off as I usually am. Well, we walked and walked in the sunny morning down the river path, and had a good ol’ time. He was especially tail wagging after the encounter with Bear, a very friendly female dog. He’s a sucker for the dominant females, apparently. He did love Nickie’s bitch, Frankie. All in all, the walk showed me how much of the simple pleasures in life a dog helps you enjoy.
