In the land of the giants

No. 1, No. 2, and I took another car trip, to a place called the city.

It was very different from our last road trip, when we went to a place that had a wooden house, trees, places to run around, and no other humans anywhere you could see. This new place had lots and lots of people, and almost no ground at all! It was all asphalt and concrete, everywhere you looked. Where’s a dog supposed to pee? No. 1 and I looked and looked, and we couldn’t find any grass or ground cover or even any mulch! What kind of place is this?

I wasn’t sure what I was going to do until a city dog came along and showed me. There are little grates, about one foot by one foot, with some ground underneath and a tree in the center. Sometimes there would be a little square without a grate, and that was the spot for a potty break. Pretty pitiful if you ask me.

Aside from the lack of facilities, it wasn’t such a bad place. We had a really comfy bed, at least until No. 2 got up at a ridiculously early hour.

To get to our room you would get in a little closet with a metal door, and then a motor would whir and you’d feel as if you were moving and yet everything in the closet would stay in place. Eventually the motor would stop whirring and the door would open, and then we would be in a different place! How do they do that?

No. 1 was busy most of the day, so No. 2 and I got in the car and drove around the city. We stopped at a place where No. 2 said the giants played. It’s funny, though, I didn’t see any giants, just normal-sized people.

No. 2 took this picture of me with a plaque, which he says shows one of the most famous giants. This one was named Willie, just like me! Willie Mays. Have you heard about him?

After visiting the park we walked along the waterfront. And walked. And walked. It was a looong walk. I still didn’t see any giants, but it seemed as if you really would have to be one to live in a place like this. No. 2 walked the legs right off me. Later that day, I slept in the car almost all the way back home.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: October 16th, 2011

There’s no place like home

I want to show you another of my happy places. I know that it will surprise some of you.

Like every dog, I like my pack to be together. If I had my druthers, we’d stay home as much as possible and when we went out, we’d always go out together.

But humans are funny. They’re restless. They have Things to Do. And so sometimes they have to leave me at home alone (well, with the Klingons for company, but you know what I mean).

The smartest thing they ever did was give me this little den to stay in while they were gone. It’s hard to explain what it means to me. It’s my personal private nook, with my favorite blankets. And it’s their personal promise that they will come back for me. I know that all I have to do is curl up and go to sleep.

We have it all down to a routine. (You know how dogs love routines.) When I see them putting their shoes and jackets on, I’ll get up and start watching them closely. I’m always hoping that they’ll get the leash and stand by the door. That means I’m going for a car ride! But sometimes, instead, they go over to my den with a treat. I know what I’m supposed to do. I run over to my den, jump in, they give me the treat, and they close the door. Then they’re on their way to wherever.

Silly humans. Don’t they know there’s no place like home?

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: September 20th, 2011

Roughing it (again)

I’m not a really big fan of roughing it (see my story about gorving). It was all the same to me that we hadn’t really been on any camping-type trips since then. But No. 1 came up with a place she thought I might like.

Now this is what I call roughing it! You have walls. You have a floor. You have light. You have heat in case it gets too cold. (No. 1 also praised the hot water for showers — not that I would know anything about that.) Best of all, you have a bed to curl up on.

No. 2 likes the loft, which you get up to by climbing a ladder. This part isn’t really dog friendly, but it’s monkey-friendly and also 50-year-old-teenager friendly. He went up there and we almost couldn’t get him to come down again.

When you want to go outside, you open the back door and there you are, in the middle of a forest. And there was almost no one else around!

Here I am, showing off my mountaineering skills.

Sad to say, we spent only one night here, and then we went to a big hotel for awhile. There wasn’t much for a little dog to do. It was noisy, confusing, and there were soooo many people, everywhere you looked. I had to be careful not to get stepped on.

Maybe roughing it isn’t such a bad idea after all. I didn’t much care for gorving, but gocabining is all right with me!

Woofs,
Willie

No. 2 here: If any of you are wondering where this is, these are the Shinneyboo Creek Cabins, just a stone’s throw from the I-80 highway to Reno, an exit or two past Emigrant Gap.

Edited: August 22nd, 2011

Me and the interweb

I started this dogblog a couple years ago, but actually me and the interweb go way back.

Once upon a time the www was still a shiny new thing, just like me, and No. 2 set up a little corner of it just for me. Here’s what it looked like:

Some of you might recognize the old-school formatting, i.e., none. I’m glad that I had No. 1 to help me design this dogblog! It looks a lot spiffier, don’t you think?

Eventually No. 2 took the old page down, but it did lead to a couple of good things while it lasted. First was that one reader wrote to my humans and told them I had the frosting gene. That was interesting.

Second was that a white papillon in Japan wrote to me! Her name was Puzoo. She said that she also likes the making of the bed, and her humans said something very wise, which is that all papillons are equally to be loved. I’ve never seen Japan, so I asked my humans where it was. They said it’s far away, so far that you can’t even get there in a car ride.

But still, it’s nice to know that I have a friend way, way over there. I hope that I’ll get to meet you some day, Puzoo!

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: August 19th, 2011

Really, I’m a very good driver

Some of you may not really believe that a dog knows how to drive. (See my last story.) Well, here is more proof.

I usually handle the technically complex job of driving the car when the ignition is turned off. Anyone can drive with the motor on, and so I leave that easy part to Number 2.

Oh, by the way, Number 2 wants you to look at his beautiful new car. He likes how quiet it is, and the fact that it doesn’t have to go to the place with the long hoses and the greasy smell quite as often. But as far as I am concerned, it has the most important thing, which is a good center console in the front seat so that the dog can sit between the two humans.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: June 27th, 2011

A long car ride

We went on a long, long car ride. I thought I would drive.

No. 2 insisted on driving and made me shove over. When we go for long car rides, the humans fix up the car so that I can take my place on the center console and my hind legs don’t fall down. That’s good.

We finally got there and it was a great big room with lots of humans working on blankies. You never saw so many sewing machines. No. 1 went to the side room and talked with a nice human friend for a long time. You can listen to their talk over here.

No. 2 and I stayed on the sofa and listened. Finally No. 1 finished talking and came over to sit beside me. I was glad to get her back.

After it got dark we drove home. It was a pretty fun day.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: June 24th, 2011

GoRVing

Gorving, gorving, that’s all the humans have been talking about for weeks now, plus the word Yosemite keeps coming up. Suddenly we go and get a ginormous car. They pack all sorts of stuff into it and take the Klingons to Klingon Camp and we drive away and that’s gorving.

A home away from home they call it. Me, not so much. There’s no center console for a little dog to ride on! Not that comfortable IMO.

The first night, we stop in a place that has lots of these great big gorving cars. It has a little building and for some reason No. 2 decides he needs to howl at the moon like the coyote on the side of it.

That night we slept in a bed that’s right inside the car! That’s what makes it a gorving. It was not all that comfy.

The next day we stop for lunch beside the road. Now we’re talkin!

Ah, the life of the open road.

We get to a place where there are trees bigger than they have any right to grow.

Still, there are fun times.

One time they tried to leave me in the gorving in my crate. I did not approve of this, and I let them know! Vociferously! This is not MY home away from home. You must not leave me here alone!

Pretty soon No. 1 came back and said she only hoped that No. 2 would not break his neck during his hike.

No. 2 came back safe and sound. Whew!

We saw lots of sights like this one.

It’s fine as long as all that water stays over there.

So all in all, gorving is not my thing. I’m just a home dog at heart. But still there were some fine times. Any time I’m with my humans!

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: May 7th, 2010

The long, long car ride

Some humans came and took away all of our boxes and our bed and our frigidator and everything. But No. 1 and No. 2 are still here so it’s all good. That’s what really matters to a dog.

No. 1 put one of the Klingons in her bubble in the back seat and put me in the front seat and we went for a car ride.

It was a really long car ride. My favorite place to roost on long rides is the little part of the car that goes between the front seats. It’s just papillon-sized.

Finally the car stopped and No. 1 rolled down the window. Another human walked up and guess what! It was No. 2! I did not know that he came too! This was a happy!

He brought our other car and there were the other Klingons. I jumped in to inspect the situation.

We went into a little room that had a bed in it. Now I know why you would want to give a Klingon a pill. The humans had given the one in my car a pill to make her sleepy so she wouldn’t go “Meooooowr! Meoooowrrowr!” the whole time in the car. This didn’t turn out to be the best plan, because that night when we were all trying to sleep, this Klingon was all loopy and she kept clawing No. 1’s arm and fastening her teeth in No. 1’s elbow. Finally No. 2 took the drunken Klingon off our hands and we got some shut-eye.

The next morning it was back in the car. They didn’t give her any more of the goofy pills and she did fine, just went to sleep in her bubble. Me too. I dozed on the console, just waking up enough to accept crumbs of cheese-cracker sammiches that No. 1 got for lunch and then back to dozing. If the sun got too hot in the front seat, I crawled into the back seat and slept on top of the pillow next to the Klingon.

Each night we would stop and No. 2 and the other Klingons would appear and we would go into a different little room with a bed. This went on for several days. One morning we got a slow start because that same pesky Klingon got herself lost. See, she’s goofy enough already, she didn’t need any pills to make here worse. The humans called her and called her, and they kept asking me where she was. What am I, a bloodhound? No help here. We looked up and down the halls and asked everybody, but we were still down a Klingon.

Finally No. 1 started turning the room upside down. She found a rip in the mattress. They lifted the top of the bed up and… nothing. Then No. 1 said, “I see a lump!” That dumb Klingon had crawled inside the bed and was sleeping inside the top part like it was a hammock. Oy, what a bother. We finally got out of there and weren’t sorry to see the back of it.

My favorite stop on our long, long car ride was a place that was not just a room, but a whole house.

Okay, there was some sort of a Springer spaniel there that got on my nerves, but other than that it was fun!

We went outside and there was lots of room. I could run! Run the wide open range, like a coyote!

But the next day it was back on the road. We got to one place where there was no bed. In fact there wasn’t much of anything.

No. 1 went into one of the rooms upstairs and I kept hearing her say a word that I know all too well. “No. No no no no no.” I went to see what all the fuss was about.

“Howard Johnson!” she kept moaning. I didn’t see it was as bad as all that… it’s just wavelengths, as No. 2 would say. Apparently it was supposed to be this color:

We slept on some class of a thing on the floor. The next morning I expected we would pack back into the cars. I was getting used to this life on the road, and like I said, all a dog really needs is his pack.

But… I was so surprised! We stayed!

Woofs,
Willie

[No. 2 here: We want to thank the Howdy Pardner Bed and Breakfast for showing Willie such a wonderful time when we passed through Cheyenne, Wyoming. A dog loves his wide open spaces!]

Edited: November 28th, 2009