Presents from the humans

We took a stroll to the garden, and No. 1 said that she had never seen me move that slow. It really wasn’t me… I think somebody moved that park about twice as far away as it used to be. No. 2 made the magic rain on his garden, and then it was time to go back. My feeties just did not want to move.

“Motor won’t go!” pronounced No. 1, and she picked me right up. She gave me a ride all the way home. Isn’t she nice?

The next time we were ready to go to the park, all of a sudden a strange contraption appeared. No. 1 stuck me in it and away we went.

It may look like I'm riding, but in my heart I'm still running.

How do you like my new ride? It makes me feel like a VID (Very Important Dog), because no other dog in the park has one.

The first time I rode in the perambulator I tried jumping out and stubbed my toe. After that I have been very happy just to stay in it and let the humans help me in and out. It’s pretty good. This way I still get out of the house and smell the fresh air and see the sights, but that darn park doesn’t seem so far away any more. Once we get there, I get out and mooch around a little.

I forgot to mention it earlier, but another present the humans got for me quite a long time ago was this little doggie staircase.

Red alert, not for Klingons!

The steps were to make it easier for me to get up into my chair, where I am allowed to lie down while the humans eat dinner.

The only problem with the steps is that, as you can see, our guest baby Klingons like them too. However, at meal time the rules are absolutely clear: the dog gets a clear path, and all Klingons have to get out of the way.

After I’ve gotten up on the chair, the Klingons often come back and lie on the steps below me, which is exactly the way it should be. Dogs above, Klingons below.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: November 28th, 2011

Something to Be Thankful For

Boy, the grub sure has improved around here!

For the longest time, all the humans ever gave me was crunchy dog kibble. Well, that plus a few scraps of human food at dinner time.

But then my teethies started getting old and sensitive, and I didn’t like to crunch it up. Then they didn’t give me hard kibble any more, and I started getting moist food from a can. Then, as I got pickier, they started giving me even moister, tastier food from a plastic tray.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any better, all that strange stuff happened that I wrote about in my last story. After I got back from That Place for the third time, suddenly they started feeding me all kinds of good stuff. All human food, all the time!

Think about it! It’s like after 16 years, I finally graduated to the grownups!

Here’s what I get sometimes:

Yummy!

Some of you might remember I had a bad experience with this when I was a puppy, but when given in small-dog amounts it’s goooood.

Here’s what I get other times:

Yummier!

Can you believe it? They save the very best part of the chickum just for me.

There’s just one thing that is a little bit strange. When No. 2 gives me the chickum liver, first he takes a little white crunchy thing and then he kind of mooshes the liver around it. Most of the time I don’t even notice the little white crunchy thing, because I gulp that ball of mooshed-up liver down so fast. But sometimes I detect it and I spit it out. That makes No. 2 all upset. “Willie! You have to eat it!” he says.

Eventually when he’s satisfied that I’ve swallowed the little white crunchy thing, then I get a few bites of pure unadulterated liver, and that is much much better. Never mess with a classic, I always say.

So tell me, what are you thankful for today?

Turkey coma.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: November 24th, 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

The littlest Klingon

As soon as the black fleas went back, we kept on having more baby Klingon guests. I didn’t care for the second batch too much. They were a little scaredy and a bit too Klingon-y to me, too many sharp points and not enough caution about using them, and so I gave them a wide berth.

Sure, they look all innocent now.

However, the third batch was just fine. These came to us with a case of the sneezles and the wheezles.

They didn't feel that gud.

The tiny tortoiseshell Klingon, the runt of the litter, had it the worst. She didn’t even weigh in at a pound soaking wet, and while the other two Klingons would run and jump around, she would just lie there on the sofa very quiet. Now that’s my kind of Klingon! We got along very well together.

Lullaby... and good night....

However, the humans were worried about her, so No. 1 took her to That Place. After they came home, No. 1 started squirting some sort of white gloppy substance down her gullet for a few days. It may have been that, or it may have been the Tuna Cure that No. 2 invented, but on about Day 3, that tiny thing reached out and batted at a toy!

After that the littlest Klingon started feeling better and began to have a very big appetite. That’s when the humans knew she was going to be all right.

Out of my way, human! That's my yogurt!

Here she is, paying a visit on me in my happy place.

If you won't let me in, I'll just sit out here.

Three Klingons and a tribble. Can you tell which is which?

We wuv each other.

The two orange baby Klingons went back to the shelter when they got over their colds. But the littlest Klingon had a lot of catching up to do, so she stayed with us awhile longer. No. 2 grew extra attached to Bunny (which No. 1 named her because she looked and felt like a dust bunny), and he asked all of his friends if they would like to adopt her. One of his bestest friends, a very nice young human, said yes! She had just adopted a Klingon a month earlier, and that Klingon needed a playtime companion.

Have you hugged your Klingon today?

The best thing about this was that we kept on visiting Bunny at the friend’s place. Here she is a couple months later.

She sprouted legs.

It’s hard to say whether she remembered me, but she definitely remembered that dogs are OK. Her housemate ran away and hid from me, but Bunny came right out and said, “Issa goggie!”

Here’s one more picture, from about half a year later.

Look at that fluffy tail!

I’m glad this story had such a happy ending. For the first time I kind of understood why humans like to keep Klingons around.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: November 11th, 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.