Here they come again

Apparently the Mackenzie Finishing School for Klingons has opened its doors once again for the season.

Three more fleas.

These guys are okay. They don’t bother me me much. However, there are times… witness the invasion of my crate!

Hmph.

That’s really a bit thick. So is this.

Watch the personal space dude.

No. 1 likes this one, though. She’s a good sewing buddy.

I help you sew that.

Those black ones went back, and then we got these.

New Klingons on the block.

They’re pretty good too, as the species goes. I give them my lessons, but this one flunked the back-of-sofa protocol.

The Klingon-eating sofa.

I'm sinking!

They lie around in the strangest poses. Sometime you wonder if the baby Klingon wars actually did them in.

I didn't do it.

All in all, we get along fine.

Okay, you can have my bed today.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: December 1st, 2011

Double Chocolatey Chip Frappacino

Recently, I had quite a day. Something very strange happened, which I don’t know quite how to explain.

It all started with a Double Chocolatey Chip Frappacino.

Can I have some of that?

No. 1 was out of town, so it was just me and No. 2, and we went to the grocery store to get some goodies. On the way back we stopped by a place called Starbucks, which is named after one of the guest Klingons we had last summer. No. 2 ordered his favorite drink, a Double Chocolatey Chip Frappacino. I wanted some, but No. 2 reminded me that the chocolatey part is not good for dogs, so I didn’t get any. He didn’t even have the decency to get the whip cream on top, which I am allowed to have a lick of. Hmph.

Then we started driving again. I remember going around a corner, and then all of a sudden the world got wobbly.

Come I hat of son vath?

I couldn’t feel my legs any more, and I couldn’t even tell where I was. The next thing I knew I was in That Place.

I was walking around this way and that, but I still couldn’t feel my right back leg. I heard them say later that it was sticking out in the air. That didn’t bother me any, but it felt sort of like walking three-legged through deep snow and having to lift my legs way up high before I could put them down.

Gradually the world straightened out, and my leg came back down, and it was all over. Nobody was quite sure what happened. So we came home and I forgot all about about it.

A couple weeks later, when No. 1 and No. 2 were both at home, something like it happened again, only this time it was apparently a whole lot worse. I don’t know, I can’t remember. When the world straightened out again, I was back in That Place, and the humans left me there overnight. I was glad to come home the next day, but ever since then I have to have this horrible-tasting liquid poured down my gullet once a day. The humans know it tastes bad, so they got the idea of mixing it with chicken broth, so now instead of tasting like turpentine, it just tastes like weird chicken broth.

But now it seems as if I feel groggy half the time, and one of the times when I felt groggy I missed my feeties and fell off the bed. After that I started coughing and had to go back to That Place for two more days. If it isn’t one thing it’s another.

All because of a Double Chocolatey Chip Frappacino.

And I didn't even get any!

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: November 22nd, 2011

The Mackenzie Finishing School for Klingons

It becomes apparent that I have been “volunteered” as nursemaid for a steady stream of baby Klingons.

We got these guys next.

See how I got them all down for a nap, including No. 2?

I'm demonstrating proper back-of-the-sofa protocol.

Very good students.

The stripey one, she was the boss.

They went back, and then this one came home.

Noisy.

She was a loudmouth like you wouldn’t believe, always spouting off about something or another.

The humans decided that she was lonely, so No. 1 went and got another one to keep her company. At first she was a beast to him, bopping him on the head and making that hissy sound, but after a couple days she let it go and they became BFF.

Where one went, the other went too.

No. 2 took some moving pictures of them and put them up on the You Tubes.

They were all fine for their species, and they all got forever homes. Wonder what’s next??

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: November 15th, 2011

Invaded!

She’s gone and done it again. Now the house is full of baby Klingons! Who knew they came in such a small size? Look at these scrappy things.

They're tussling.

I don’t know how many there are. Maybe three, but it seems like a lot more because they’re everywhere you look. There’s a whole lotta legs and tails all over the place. I tried adding them up but they move too fast and I can’t count that high. Sheesh, so much for the peace and quiet.

All of them are black, like fleas, and who knows how to tell the difference between them. I don’t think they had ever seen a dog before, because when they first saw me they got their backs up and made the little hissy noises (kind of half-hearted, really). I didn’t pay any attention to this behavior, and within a day they were over it and were not fazed by me whatsoever. Now we all get along fine. And it’s kind of nice being bigger than a Klingon for once in my life!

Sometimes they tear around like crazy.

Prepare to die, fuzzy ball.

Other times they lounge around in all the best spots.

Legwarmer.

It’s kind of my job to watch them.

Nobody fall off. No, we have absolutely no mutual interest in that cereal bowl.

If there’s anything good about being overrun with baby Klingons, it’s that they get very tasty canned food.

All of youz mind your manners.

You gonna finish that?

No. 1 tells me that they’re temporary. All in all, I think that’s for the best.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: November 7th, 2011

There goes the peace and quiet

Just when I was getting used to being the only non-human in the house, No. 1 goes and brings home a puppy!

Sigh.

“Don’t worry,” she tells me. “He’s temporary.”

See, for years now No. 1 and No. 2 have been going to help out at this place.

Santa Cruz County Animal Shelter

Sometimes the animals there need to go to somebody’s house and live for a little while until they get their forever homes.

So No. 1 brought Munchkin home. She actually calls him Munchie.

He's chewing on Flopsy.

Munchie is all right I guess. We get along fine, except that he’s such a young whippersnapper and a tad too peppy for my taste. He likes to get in between me and No. 1, and actually kind-of pushes me out of the way when we’re all in the kitchen. Kind of thick, I must say.

Displaced!

We went out to lunch at a place that lets dogs eat on their patio.

You gonna eat that?

After a week, Munchie had another place to go. Here he is with his new pack.

Small, medium, and large.

I hear he’s very happy over there, with a couple of nice humans too.

It’s good to be back to the peace and quiet once again.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: October 31st, 2011

It’s just me and the Pale Tiger

Nowadays it’s just me, the humans, and the one Klingon. She’s the one that looks like a white Klingon and a striped Klingon collided at 60 mph. In her younger days, back where we used to live, she was quite the hunter. She caught her prey and flipped it high in the air to display her prowess. No. 2 dubbed her the Pale Tiger.

That was a long time ago, and those days are gone. Now she is much more rotund and she mostly sleeps. Since I like to sleep too, that means we end up sharing quite a bit.

Aw c'mon. Lay on somebody your own size.

Patooey.

Oh, I guess she’s not that bad.

More like a beached whale now.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: October 9th, 2011

A lot less Trouble

Can a Klingon just fade away?

A lot less Trouble

Our second calico, the one I call Trouble, just isn’t what she used to be. She used to be a lot bigger than me but now she’s down to just about my size. Like her sister who left us, she has taken to yowling at the door and drinking a lot. The thing about this one though… when she drinks, she thinks she is a desert cat in the Sahara and has to scratch out a watering hole. She meows and scratches and scrapes and drinks… it’s pretty funny except when it’s annoying.

The humans have noticed it too, and have started taking her to That Place. One time they came back with a bag of some kind of special water that they hung over a lampshade, hooked up the other end to the Klingon, and it’s fill ‘er up! What will they think of next?

It’s pretty amusing to watch No. 2 at this, because it requires about three hands. Sometimes the special water will start spraying all over the Klingon and him and the sofa and the living room. Then No. 2 starts employing what I believe is called salty language.

No. 1 is much more calm and collected. According to No. 2 she comes from a long line of nurses. They must be born with three hands, because No. 1 never has any trouble with the procedure.

When they started doing this, it really made a surprising difference. It took about a day for Trouble to get her personality back, which is to say, she started getting in trouble again. She did things like sharpen her claws, bat at pen caps, and talk to the birds, which she used to do all the time.

Oh yes, and she continues to have a talent for turning up in unexpected places. Like here:

You did say it was a garden bed, didn't you?

And here:

Nothing here but us watering cans.

Even though Trouble and I aren’t the best of friends, I’m glad she’s feeling better.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: August 31st, 2011

A Klingon Named Trouble

Things have changed since our pack lost a member. The other two Klingons started to hang out with each other a little more.

Klingons at Work

It may not look like it, but this is amazing. These two never really snuggled up together before. They always snuggled up with their sister who left us, who was the Great Conciliator. I guess Klingons can change.

Believe it or not, Klingons actually do have different personalities. I’ve told you about the friendly one, the calico who just left us recently.

The other calico is a different story. She is the Klingoniest of all the Klingons. I already told you here about how she treated me at first. Things got better (see “Detente with Klingons”) but we still have conversations like this one.

ME: Bark! Bark! (Do you really need to occupy the whole staircase so that I can’t get around you?)

HER: Eh-eh-eh-eh-eh (Klingons rank higher than dogs, so you’ll just have to wait.)

ME: Bark! Bark! Bark! (Get out of the way you dumb Klingon!)

HER: Eh-eh-eh-eh-eh (Make me you stupid dog.)

ME: Bark! Bark! Bark! (I’m calling the humans to come and get you!)

HER: (as No. 2 picks her up): (Dang! I was winning.)

The humans have some funny name for this Klingon, but to me her name is Trouble.

Uh-oh. Get me out of here.

Why is she Trouble? Let me count the ways.

Trouble on the Roof

Trouble in the Dresser

Trouble Tries to Defenestrate

Trouble Thinks She's Hiding

But probably the worst, the very thickest travesty of all, was one time when I had a biscuit on the bed. I wasn’t quite ready to eat it yet, but I was keeping an eye on it, as a dog does.

The cheesy ones are one of my favorites.

Trouble approached my biscuit. Of course I acted instantly, moving to guard my treat against her evil intent. She did not care for my actions. In the ensuing tussle, the Klingon fetched me a good swat.

After that, No. 1 looked at me, hollered “Winky eye!” and took me to That Place. Dye was dripped into my eye and a strange black light shone on it. Yes, the Klingon had given me a scratch on the cornea.

Then I had to have goop squeezed into my eye twice a day for awhile. In my estimation, this whole incident was entirely unfair. When a dog has a biscuit, it’s sacrosanct. There’s no coveting it, there’s no approaching it… and when a dog defends his biscuit, where’s the fairness in attacking tender eyes with razor-sharp claws?

Despite all this, for some reason Trouble has stolen No. 2’s heart. Go figure! I guess some guys (not me) are just suckers for a pretty face.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: August 10th, 2011

Riding high

No. 1 and her buddies all got together and made a blankie. They brought it over for us to see.

No. 2 was called to hold up one end. For some unfathomable reason he thought it would be a clever idea to hoist me up over the top of the blankie while a picture was being taken.

Yes, very funny. Are we done?

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: August 6th, 2011

No. 1 makes books, did you know that? A friend of hers makes books too. Here’s one of hers.

And can you believe it, this friend lives with a papillon too? Here we are all together.

The red-haired beauty is Wuli.

No. 1 got ahold of this book and saw that her friend had made a ‘barkmulke’ for Wuli. So of course she decided to make one for me too.

The hat's okay but did I really have to wake up out of a nap for this?

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: July 18th, 2011

That Place

Okay, today I’ll tell you about That Place.

I think every dog has a place like this. I see Klingons there too. We used to go only once or twice a year, but now it seems like it’s more often. I don’t really appreciate it. When our car turns onto the street where That Place is located, I start to get a little nervous.

Here I am following No. 1 through the front door. Note that my tail is down.

No waggy tails for visits to That Place.

The first thing they have you do is get on a shiny cold metal thing. Who wants to stand on a shiny cold metal thing with bare feet? Not me. Still, they only make me do it for a few seconds. Then they say something like, “6.3 pounds,” and I can get back on the floor.

Next we go back to a little room with another shiny cold metal thing for a table. A nice human with a concerned face comes in. No. 1 or No. 2 puts me up on the table, and then the Examination begins.

I don’t have any pictures of this part, but the nice human with the concerned face puts a shiny round metal thing on my chest and listens. Then she puts a plastic thing in my ear and looks. Then she tries to pull back my lips and look at my teethies. Oooh, I do not approve of that whatsoever. I squirm and thrash! Nobody looks at my teethies!

And then the worst happens. She starts putting things in places where I didn’t even know I had places. At this point I’m just praying for it to be over soon. Usually it is, after just a few minutes.

Sometimes, though, No. 1 and No. 2 leave me there for a longer time. This part is really weird. The That Place humans take me back into another room, give me a little pin prick that I can barely feel … and then suddenly I wake up and it’s later! My mouth feels tingly, and my teeth feel really smooth and clean. And then I hear my humans’ voices out in the lobby. Another nice human carries me through the door, and there are No. 1 and No. 2! I start squirming again, only this time it’s a good squirm. It’s the “I get to go home!” jig.

MUCH better. One of the good things about being a little dog is that I can sit on the counter, above the hoi polloi, while No. 2 talks with the humans behind the counter.

This is my view.

Those crunchy biscuits in the dish are really good. I get to take one home with me!

As you can see, they really try hard to make us feel comfortable. I’ve seen lots of other animals in the waiting room at That Place. The ones coming in often look a bit under the weather, and the ones going home usually look happy and better.

So That Place is really not a bad place. It’s just a place that I would really rather not be.

Woofs,
Willie

No. 2 here: Many thanks to Dr. Kawano at Harbor Vet, for all her care for Willie over the years.

Edited: July 16th, 2011

I do not approve

This new floor is no good. It’s hard and slippery, and it’s holding me back. Why would they do this to me? I can’t even jump up on the sofa! My feet just go all skittery on me.

And the stairs! Talk about slipping and sliding! After trying it a few times, I refuse. Now I just stand at the top or bottom and bark for one of the humans to come and carry me to where I want to go.

That's a long way down.

No. 1 got some little soft fluffy floors to go on the stairs. At first I was wary. But after trying it out a time or two, all is well once again.

With the fluffy stairs I am so swift that I blur your camera.

No. 1 got some other pieces of soft floor too, so that I can jump up on the sofa once again and also into my crate. Much better.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: May 28th, 2011

Klingons are sneaky

Kingons are seriously sneaky. They pad around on their soft little feeties and they get their twisty bodies into places you wouldn’t expect. Then they pop out when you’re least expecting it.

The music? Really?

I have to keep my wits well about me at all times. Life with Klingons. Sigh.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: February 4th, 2011

Seriously?

I’m in a pet show on the interwebs!

A nice human friend of No. 1’s, who lives in a place called Bunny Hill, put up lots of pictures of dogs and Klingons and other animals. No. 1 decided to send her a picture of me, and which one does she choose? Me after a bath.

Now that is not my finest hour, bath time. In fact, baths should be banned. There’s no reason to be stuck in the sink, wet down, lathered up, massaged, then rinsed endlessly, just when I’ve built up a good doggy patina. Yet the humans insist on carrying out this barbaric ritual every so often (read way too often). They do give me cheese, but this is only a sop to the indignity. After the bath I’m wet and cold and I run around the house like a wild creature, so No. 1 swaddles me up in No. 2’s old bathrobe. The humans find this hilarious so they decided to take a picture of me in my reduced capacity.

Couldn’t she have sent the bunny lady a picture of me standing atop a green mountainside with the wind blowing through my luxurious fringes? Running across a flowered meadow? Bravely defending humans from a savage cougar?

No, she sends the bath picture.

Oh well, at least it’s my 15 minutes of fame.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: August 15th, 2010

Chicken feet

No. 1 says I have chicken feet.

I don’t know why she would say that.

So I have to endure my feeties being trimmed. It’s not as bad as the nail trim, but still.

Neat feet.

The only good thing is that I get a treat at the end.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: July 15th, 2010