Dogs, Dogs, Dogs!

Jeremy and I share our humble abode with four—count ’em—four dogs!  (Three of which are nearly elephant sized). We have Barkley, a chocolate Lab, who is the only one with official papers—and is the most well behaved.  Then we have Cooper, a tall, skinny Weimaraner that Jeremy found years ago, wandering the streets, and took in as a stray.  We have Cash (aka. Cashy Pooh), who is also a Weimaraner mix (probably with pit bull as he is short and very stocky) and a prized find.  Are you beginning to wonder about Jeremy’s so-called “finding” of dogs???  I sure did.  Last but not least, we have Charlie, who is a Pomeranian/long-haired Chihuahua mix I adopted about a year ago.  We love all four of our furry children, and like real kids, they each have their own personalities.  They constantly keep us entertained and on our toes.

The reason for this introduction to my “kids” is to inform you that, from time to time, they will be my guest bloggers.  Today, Charlie would like to tell you what’s been on his mind lately.



 Arf, arf!  Hi.  I’m Charlie, but Mama calls me Charlie Bear.  Daddy calls me Charles and even Carlos sometimes, although I’m not sure why.  That’s not my given name, and besides, I’m only half Hispanic. Mommy doesn’t like it when he does that either.  Anyway, here are a few things you should know about me:

1) I’m a-dorable.  Everyone thinks so, and I totally know how to work it to my advantage, if you know what I mean.

2) I LOOOOOVE cheese.  I know exactly where it is in the fridge.  Mama and Daddy keep it at my eye level, so every time they open the door, I stare at it until they take the hint and give me bites.  I’ll even stand up on my hind legs and twirl to earn a piece.  Mama and Daddy love it when I do this.  They laugh and call me Dancing Bear.  The more I dance, the more cheese I get.

3) Despite Mama’s pleas not to, Daddy lets me lick his yogurt and ice cream containers.  I can almost fit my entire head inside, and Mama complains I have sticky face afterward, and she bitches because she has to give me another bath.  Which leads me to tell you….

4) I have a terrible phobia of water, but I don’t really mind baths too much except for when Mommy pours water over my head to rinse me. I was traumatized when I fell into our backyard swimming pool, but it really scared the crap out of Mommy.  As a result, she ran out and bought me a life jacket, determined to teach me how to swim.  There’s a difference between knowing how to swim and choosing not to.  I KNOW how to swim, but I hate it more than anything, so when Mommy and Daddy let my brothers swim in the pool, I hightail it to the living room and bask in the comforts of air conditioning while my crazy-ass, country boy brothers fetch tennis balls from the deep end.  Even though I’m terrified of water, I still like to cheat death and walk as close to the edge of the pool as caninely possible when I’m looking for a place to poop on Daddy’s sidewalk.  Mommy hates this because it makes her nervous, but what can I say?  I’m just a little daredevil like that.

5) I bite.  Ha ha—you would never think so, seeing as I’m so stinkin’ cute, but when people piss me off (especially annoying little kids), I have been known to chomp down on a finger or two.  Don’t worry, it doesn’t really hurt that bad because I don’t have many teeth anymore in golden years.  But still, I can be a grumpy old man sometimes, and I don’t like to be bothered!  I especially get irritated when Daddy moves me from my comfy, cozy spot on Mommy’s lap.  He does NOT like it when I snap at him for doing so.  He swats at me and says, “No!” so lately, I just groan and let him move me.

6) It annoys me when Daddy holds me down and kisses my snout.  I have learned that if I’m really still and cooperative, he’ll hurry and finish and then I can go back about my business—like laying in Mommy’s lap while she strokes my belly.  Mmmmmm.

7) There’s nothing I love more than having my belly rubbed and scratched (other than cheese—did I mention I love cheese?)  So if I roll over, please take the hint and get to rubbing.  Don’t make me beg.

8) I like to poop on the sidewalk instead of on the grass where my big brothers go.  Daddy doesn’t like it, but I don’t think it’s that big a deal–my turds are only the size of a Tootsie Roll.  But it sure is funny to watch Daddy avoid them as he makes his trek from the garage to the back door.  I’ve also learned that if I pee in the house, Daddy wants me to smell it because he rubs my nose in it.  I really don’t like that—besides, I already know what urine smells like.  I don’t know why he feels the need to remind me.

9) I have to watch out for myself, otherwise I’ll get trampled by my big brothers.  They aren’t careful with me at all, so I’m expected to fend for myself.

10) I love to go shopping with Mommy even though she totes me around in a pink bag like I’m a little girl.  When I go shopping with Daddy at Home Depot, I get to ride in the buggy like a big boy and everyone wants to pet me.  Did I mention I’m adorable?

Well, I guess that’s it for now.  I had better get back to my nap.  I like to sleep all day.  It makes the day go by faster as I eagerly await for Mommy to get home from work.  Maybe I’ll greet her at the door tonight, wagging my tail and asking for, “Cheese, please!”  Besides, I’m not worried about the couple of pounds I’ve gained even though Mommy says I’m getting fat.  I’m going to stay at Nonna and Granddude’s house while my parents are on vacation in a couple weeks, and Nonna LOVES to give me treats.  In fact, Mommy’s gonna have a conniption fit when she gets home and discovers my weight has hit the double digits.  That only means one thing—I’ll be too big to fit in that damn pink doggy purse.



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