How I became the Quilt Puppy

No. 2’s sister sent a Klingon rug. One of our Klingons decided to pretend she was a pop-up Klingon.

One of these things is not like the others.

No. 1 is making the blankies like crazy. She has her stuff all set up in the extra room upstairs, so much stuff you wouldn’t believe it. A lot of it is soft and scrunchable, which is nice for a dog. I work closely with her on all stages of making the blankies.

This is a good perch. I can see pretty well from here.

This is a good place to hang out too.

One time No. 1 packed the suitcase and went away for a few days. That was no good. When she came home I helped her unpack. She gave me this souvenir collar.

The collar's nice but don't go away any more, okay?

Here I am on a blankie that has poodles on it. I approve this blankie.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: March 11th, 2010

Something unusual’s going on

Something suspicious is happening in our home.

I think it all started when the humans took me for a ride in the car with the Klingons. You have to realize that Klingons and cars don’t mix. The only place they ever go in a car is to the vet. But this time, we just drove around for an hour, and the humans said something about getting them used to long car rides. Why?

After we had been driving for half an hour with no apparent decrease in yowling inside the car, No. 2 made up a song called “99 Kitties Crying and a Dog.” He sang it to the melody of “99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall.” It went, “99 kitties crying and a dog. 99 kitties crying. Give one a pill, make her get ill, you’ll still have 99 kitties crying and a dog.” I didn’t like this song. How did this dog get mixed up with 99 Klingons? Why did they give one a pill? How did it end? What does it mean?

Then the humans’ friends started coming over. One night it was No. 1’s friends, the ones who use sharp implements like she does.

Another friend, who has lots of dogs, came over and had lunch. This human is goofy and knows how to have fun.

Lynnie

Then we went to some more friends’ house and had dinner.

That wasn’t all that much fun. At these humans’ house, there are at least eight white boxers. Maybe it’s only three or four, but when they come at you and smell you all over and bat at you with their great clumsy paws, it seems like boxers everywhere you turn. Here’s one of them.

They all look the same from down here, trust me.

Finally, something strange started to happen in our house. The humans’ stuff started getting put into boxes.

The only benefit I can see to this development is that for the first time I can get into the frigidator! All the way into it! It should always be this way!

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: November 3rd, 2009

How I became the Quilt Puppy

You may have noticed that the name of my dogblog is “The Most Excellent Life and Times of Willie the Quilt Puppy.” You may also have wondered, “How did such a thing as a quilt get into the act?”

No. 1 is always fooling around with hunks of cloth. Sometimes she sits at a table and runs a contraption that goes whiiiirrrrr.

Other times she sits with a big blankie on her lap and does things with it. Sharp implements are involved.

At these times I am not allowed to sit on the blankie on her lap. I can lie under the blankie, or I can lie on the part of the blankie that is on the floor (but for some reason she moves it frequently so it’s not all that satisfactory).

In my opinion, the hunks of cloth could be left just the way they are. A pile of them makes a good bed, and they would be fun to scrunch up. No. 1 does not agree. So I abide by her wishes and take up my self-appointed duties as the Quilt Puppy. Here’s my job description.

• Keep No. 1 company in the studio.

• Dog-approve all quilts by lying on them at some stage of completion, testing them for comfiness.

• Fetch spools of thread that have rolled under the sofa.

My favorite quilting activity is the reading of magazines.

Very edifying.

I take my duties seriously. In fact, it will come to pass in a few years’ time that No 1 will name her whole company after me. But that’s another story, one that will be told in the fullness of time.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: September 27th, 2009