Marginalized!

Now that the Klingons are over being fazed by me whatsoever, I find myself being ooched off of laps.

Little by little, they advance on my position, sometimes even making so bold as to lie right on top of me.

This is really very thick. It’s obvious they have no respect for a dog’s personal space, or for the fact that possession is 9/10 of the law.

It always ends the same way. They move in inch by inch, until it’s too much and I give up the lap. I just can’t cuddle up to a Klingon.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: August 29th, 2009

Chipmunks are fun for all

Now it looks like this outside our house.

It’s warm instead of brrr! and I can run! Run like the wind! I can run just as fast as No. 2.

The Klingons have a little door just for them. They go in and out and in and out. Nowadays, a lot of times when they come back in they bring a friend with them. Chipmunks are the best.

Chipmunks run really fast too. They are so fun to chase and if I catch one I bite its tail with my teethies. No. 1 tries to catch them but they get away and run up the curtains or hide under the kitchen cabinets. She tries to lure them out with Cheerios. Usually what happens is, when a chipmunk has been in the house for a few days it really slows down. Then No. 1 is able to put on her thick gloves and catch them and put them back outside. There goes the entertainment.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: August 27th, 2009

I’m a Canine Good Citizen

Besides all the ways that I’ve learned from No. 1 of how to earn treats at home, she took me to a place where there were lots of other dogs and we all had to do the same things over and over again. It wasn’t that much fun. Particularly when we moved outside and they expected me to do a “down” on the GRASS. What? Put my belly down on that prickly, tickly stuff? Ew. I’m a much more civilized dog than that, thank you very much.

After we’d been doing that for a few times, we went to yet another place outdoors. There were tons of other dogs. Here are some of them.

No. 1 and I did a lot of different things while another human watched us and wrote things down. I had to sit, stay, come, walk nicely on my leash, get petted by a stranger, stay behind a barn without howling, and all kinds of things like that.

Finally it was over, and I got to go back to the car with No. 2. Soon No 1 came back all excited, waving a paper in the air.

This is what all the excitement was about.

Of course I’m a Canine Good Citizen! My breeder mom and my human pack raised me right!

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: August 24th, 2009

Détente with Klingons

The Klingons are warming up to me. I think. The hissy one chases me around now, and we have conversations. She uses that same voice that they use when they talk to the birdies in the back yard. When she blocks my way I bark at her and she goes eh eh eh eh eh at me.

One time she cornered me in a small place. I bravely stood my ground. She reached out with her paw to swat me — then changed her mind and touched noses instead!

The friendly one is now my bestest Klingon.

The white one makes the best stank face, but she doesn’t seem to care much about me one way or the other. I’m just as glad about that.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: August 22nd, 2009

My fringes are here!

The humans kept talking about “that awkward gangly stage.” I don’t know what that meant, but apparently I’m over it now. My ear fringes have grown out!

A papillon’s pride and joy are his fringes. We’re named for butterflies, you know, and our ears look like big fluffy wings.

They’ve also stopped referring to a “pipe cleaner” when talking about my tail. Now it’s long and fluffy too, and swishes all over the place when I wag it.

No. 1 has been teaching me things. I know lots of words and what I’m supposed to do when the humans say them. Each word also has a signal, and I know those too! Let me tell you, this is a great way to get treats. The way we do it is, the humans say the word or make the signal, I do the thing, and I get a treat! What a racket.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: August 21st, 2009

Walking with the pack

Now the white stuff has gone away and it’s a little warmer out. I’ve started going outside more, walking with my pack. That is, the core pack… the humans. (The Klingons are optional.)

I enjoy the walks. Dogs love walking. The way it should be on walks is, that both the humans are near me and I can see them. This is important. We all need to be together.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: August 18th, 2009

It’s white outside

My whole life so far it’s been brrr! outside. They say I’m a winter puppy. Now something happened. A whole lot of cold white stuff fell from the sky, and our back yard looks like this.

Here’s No. 2’s ladder, which he climbs to get the Klingons down from the roof when they get stuck up there.

I’m getting the idea that the humans would rather I go outside for certain things. This is now a problem, since the cold white stuff is taller than me.

No. 2 got out a shovel and dug some paths for me. Before, one of the humans always accompanied me when I went outside. Now I can go outside all by myself! I have no desire to climb the tunnel walls and flounder around in all that.

In fact I’d rather stay inside where it’s warm and toasty. Here’s the best thing to do with a leash IMO… lie down with it near a heating vent. No. 1 calls this pose “the flying frog.”

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: August 17th, 2009

Tug of War with Klingons

One of my favorite toys is my rope. This can be dragged around, chewed, rolled on, and if somebody gets the other end, it turns into a most delightful game called Tug of War.

You can growl ferociously, grab onto your end with your teethies and pull, and try to get more of the rope than they do.

Anybody wanna tug? How ’bout play with red ribbon… no, focus! Tug? Anybody? Anybody?

Tug of War with my rope is the recommended way to play with Klingons, because they’re over there and I’m over here.

I wonder why they use their paws instead of their teethies. Anybody knows teethies are better.

I always win. See?

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: August 16th, 2009

I have a friend

One of the Klingons has decided that I am not evil.

The other day, she came right up to me and started giving me head-butts. I didn’t know what to do, so I stood stock still and tried not to make a move. That was hard though. She’s bigger than me so I ended up being buffeted around the room. Being head-butted by a Klingon is a little nerve-wracking, but I tell you what, it’s a whole lot better than being swatted.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: August 15th, 2009

TP’ing the bedroom

What?

That was the MOST FUN EVER.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: August 14th, 2009

Rebuffed

I was sitting on No. 1’s lap on the sofa, and one of the Klingons was sitting on the back of the sofa above us with her tail hanging down. This one.

I had been giving the Klingons a wide berth, but this seemed like a nice mellow moment, and I made so bold as to smell her tail. Apparently she did not appreciate having her tail smelled, because she reached down her paw and gave me a swat!

That was all I wanted of that, and I must say it was really very thick. No. 1 started boo-hooing a little bit, held me close, and told me she was sorry. Later on she told No. 2 that that’s when she knew she loved me.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: August 13th, 2009

I help

One of my jobs is to help the humans. I help No. 2 a lot.

A dog knows his duty.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: August 12th, 2009

Here’s the pack

My bestest human.

This is No. 1. She is sweet, loving, and spends lots of time petting me and teaching me things.

My also bestest human.

This is No. 2. He’s silly, fun, and plays with me a lot. What a great combo platter for a pair of my very own humans!

These are the Klingons. Sure, they look sweet now.

I’m beginning to realize that I keep hearing the sound “Willie” a lot. However, when No. 1 is brushing me, I hear something that sounds more like “Wiggleworm.”

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: August 11th, 2009

My new pack

The first day in my new home was a little confusing. It was all new and I didn’t quite know what to make of things. The new humans stayed with me in the kitchen, and as long as they were there, everything was all right.

Even when I met my first Klingon.

I had no prior experience of these creatures. They are about the size of puppies but they don’t smell like puppies, and the way they act… most startling. The first time one of them saw me on the other side of the gate, it got its back up and emitted a spooky, un-doglike hissing sound. I wasn’t at all sure I wanted any of that.

But nothing else happened. They stayed on the their side of the gate and I stayed on mine. The only really bad times that day were when the humans left me alone in the kitchen, behind the gate. No good! No good at all! I let them know that I did not like it! I used every bit of my vocal range, from barks and yelps to yips and whimpers and whines and yodels, etc. Finally, just when my voice got a little tired and I quieted down, they came back!

The next time they left me alone, I was determined that I was going to get through that gate. I jumped up onto a chair as part of my plan to use my butterfly ears to fly over the gate, but instead I took a header onto the kitchen floor. I was so surprised and upset that I started puppy-crying.

The humans returned immediately, and one of them sat down on the floor and drew me into her lap, petting and soothing me. When she tried to get up I clung to her lap, so she sat back down and gathered me in again. That’s when she became No. 1.

That night I slept in my crate in the bedroom with the humans. I was used to this plan, because that’s what my breeder mom taught me.

I went to sleep with the notion that my new pack was the two humans and the three Klingons. A dog likes to know his pack.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: August 9th, 2009

My naming day

On the day that the new humans took me away, they were talking quite a bit during the long car ride. I wasn’t too interested in that, but I did find crunchy treats in the compartment that opened in front of me! I didn’t wait to be asked, and snagged one immediately. Open it again! More! More!

The human whose lap I was sitting on (later she would become No. 1) was gazing at me, petting me, and thinking and thinking. Little did I know that she was feeling her way along to my name.

In my first home, they were going to call me Warlock. This turned into Little Man. Now, in the car, No. 1 said, “It’s like he wants to be a Willie.”

No. 2 replied, “Only if he can be Bertram Wilberforce Woofster and Willie can be short for his middle name.”

“Deal,” said No. 1.

You see, the new humans were fond of reading books by P.G. Wodehouse about Bertie and Jeeves. Bertie’s full name is really Bertram Wilberforce Wooster so I kind-of got named after him. Of course Bertie is a dim bulb and Jeeves has brains for days, still I’m just as glad I didn’t get named Jeeves.

After that really long car ride, we arrived at my new home, where they had everything a puppy could want.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: August 5th, 2009