I Bought the "Furminator". As in Terminator for fur! I love it. It cuts the undercoat hair on Romeo's coat and somehow spares the outer hair. Any grooming product that defies the laws of physics has my vote! I have been using it on my wife but it just left her coat coarse and angry.
I love the brush so much that I do a good long brushing session at least twice a day now. Romeo either thinks he did something really wrong or really right! Either way he can't remember what it might be. So he just sits staring at the wall trying to recall what might have started this onslaught of physical attention.
"Maybe it was the time I ate goose poop... no it had to be the time that he told me to sit, and then I did... no that was only a minute ago... darn... I can't remember anything from more than 30 minutes ago. Whoa! Has this always been the case or do I have amnesia? Maybe I'm a dog...No way...!"
The furminator has given me dog a window into all the great questions of existentialism.
Poor Curious Dog
Monday, March 31, 2008
Friday, March 21, 2008
Running Up The Glass
Today Romeo and I had a slight mishap. I think it had to do with his enormous trust in his pack leader, me. First thing In the morning, Romeo is always very excited to hop up into the back of my dog wagon right after peeing. Well, I decided to have him jump in the side door this morning and didn’t tell him before he ran off to go pee. When Romeo returned he sped up as he approached the back of the wagon. The fact that the hatch was not opened didn’t even give him pause in the least. If anything at all, he must have just thought “ Wow! I wonder how my leader is going to work this one out.” Then, as he leapt effortlessly toward the back window, he must have thought “Boy, Leader sure is cutting this one close. He sure is amazing. He can do anything.” I can only assume that gliding through the air inches from the window he didn’t even question my ability to work out this minor conundrum. How could he? He has been present for my multiple disappearing acts and making food appear out of nowhere twice a day! I felt a little bit evil as I watched Romeo trying, in vain to run up the window. It wasn’t my fault but damn it was funny! So then this poor dog that had just defined embarrassment looks at me as if to say, “Thank you for helping me learn how to run up glass but… why? What was your ever important purpose for teaching my the lost art of glass running, leader?”
I had no answer but acted as if I did. Then I said, “When you are supposed to understand, you’ll just know.” Then, happy as a clam, he hopped into the backseat and prepared for a long session of the “ try not to fall over sideways during the car ride” game.
Poor confused dog
I had no answer but acted as if I did. Then I said, “When you are supposed to understand, you’ll just know.” Then, happy as a clam, he hopped into the backseat and prepared for a long session of the “ try not to fall over sideways during the car ride” game.
Poor confused dog
Friday, March 14, 2008
Romeo's Dog-Jitsu Coach
Good morning. Romeo (my aussie dog) and I are at a coffee shop. Romeo is staring at me. I think he is still amazed that I was able to completely disappear for 6 days and then just reappear out of nowhere. He is smiling, nodding his head and chuckling to himself at the improbability of it all.
Yesterday Romeo and I went to my good friend, Dan's house. Dan is my Jiu-Jitsu coach and lives in a very rural town called Prunedale, CA. He has a dog, named Oliver. Oliver is clearly the most good-natured dog Romeo has ever met. When they first met, Romeo growled. Oliver looked at him incredulously, then laughed (dog laugh), and then chased bugs. Romeo was taken aback at the lack of reverence. How could this tiny mutt not see him as a threat? How could he expect Romeo to just let this insult go? How could he jump around all silly as if nothing mattered and expect Romeo to do the same? Bugs don’t matter! There are important things going on! Human people are saying things and there is a remote chance that it’s a command. How could this sawed off blemish on the face of pure breeding ignore the most important things in li…. Wait a minute! Is that a pill bug? WEEE!!!!!
Romeo spent the next two hours bounding around as if he was part dog. Thank you Oliver, for teaching Romeo the fine art of chasing things that aren’t there, eating things that are not edible, and running from one place where nothing is happening to another place where nothing is happening.
Romeo is now one step closer to becoming a dog and it’s all due to Dan, my Jiu-Jitsu coach and Oliver, Romeo’s Dog-Jitsu coach. Thanks guys.
Poor "sort of" dog
Yesterday Romeo and I went to my good friend, Dan's house. Dan is my Jiu-Jitsu coach and lives in a very rural town called Prunedale, CA. He has a dog, named Oliver. Oliver is clearly the most good-natured dog Romeo has ever met. When they first met, Romeo growled. Oliver looked at him incredulously, then laughed (dog laugh), and then chased bugs. Romeo was taken aback at the lack of reverence. How could this tiny mutt not see him as a threat? How could he expect Romeo to just let this insult go? How could he jump around all silly as if nothing mattered and expect Romeo to do the same? Bugs don’t matter! There are important things going on! Human people are saying things and there is a remote chance that it’s a command. How could this sawed off blemish on the face of pure breeding ignore the most important things in li…. Wait a minute! Is that a pill bug? WEEE!!!!!
Romeo spent the next two hours bounding around as if he was part dog. Thank you Oliver, for teaching Romeo the fine art of chasing things that aren’t there, eating things that are not edible, and running from one place where nothing is happening to another place where nothing is happening.
Romeo is now one step closer to becoming a dog and it’s all due to Dan, my Jiu-Jitsu coach and Oliver, Romeo’s Dog-Jitsu coach. Thanks guys.
Poor "sort of" dog
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Me and Romeo in the Iditarod
You may know that I am away from home right now and this has had a peculiar effect on my Aussie dog Romeo. My wife has been in charge of helping him with his day to day operations. When my wife leaves the house Romeo has begun to look for me everywhere. He first checks the garbage cans in each room. When he feels confident that I am not in the bottom of any of the trash, he then checks under the covers of my bed.
Needless to say I feel an emptiness knowing that a quick phone conversation with him would clear this up in a jiffy, but he’s a purist. He doesn’t believe in Bluetooth (Says he doesn’t trust it) and he can’t hold the phone (no thumbs).
At the same time as all these shenanigans I have noticed that the Iditarod, an 1100 mile dogsled race through the harsh, 0 degree tundra between Anchorage and Nome Alaska, is under way.
All that I can surmise is that my loving companion (I know that my wife and dog are in the same story so it’s a little confusing when I say “loving companion” but I am referring to my dog) has somehow gotten wind of the Iditarod. Of course I don’t mean that literally or he would stand perfectly still for hours with his eyes closed breathing in the ass music of a thousand distant malamutes. The only thing that Romeo can assume, since he has no concept of coincidence, is that I am lost in the life-threatening northern wasteland. He must imagine me surrounded by huskies that don’t really love me the way he does. Dogs that only care about dog things and can’t possibly protect me from whatever horrible, arctic beasts dwell in the frozen north the way that he could.
As I am landing in San Francisco and my wife is driving up the 101 to come get me I just know that Romeo has made a break for it. After doing one more meticulous check of every trash can and verifying that I am not still in my bed, I can only assume that his powerful sense of duty and new knowledge of my potential icy grave has driven him to great lengths. I can just see him wadding up just enough hair near the front door jam that it keeps it from latching when she leaves. Then he lays low for a few minutes. Suddenly the Mission Impossible theme starts and he’s up and moving through the house, gathering his travel aids.
One last bite of cat poop, and… and… I guess that’s all he would need. What an incredibly efficient animal. I hope when I get back he has lost his nerve citing the hill by our house as possibly impassible and traffic lights being a death trap due to his being color blind. I hope he has decided that although well intended, his harrowing rescue trip is not his best use. I hope he has decided that my memory would be better served if he stayed close to home. Staying and taking care of the family. Making sure the wife doesn’t eat a whole steak. You know, cholesterol. Making sure the children have someone to dress as a hairy princess. And making sure that the cat box is clean most of the time.
When I walk through the door, back from the great historic Iditarod Trail, his reverence for me will be complete. He will shower me with hops and kisses as if to say. You made it and I will never question your ability to make through the most extreme situations a human being can endure, until tomorrow when I forget all of this.
Poor Romeo
Needless to say I feel an emptiness knowing that a quick phone conversation with him would clear this up in a jiffy, but he’s a purist. He doesn’t believe in Bluetooth (Says he doesn’t trust it) and he can’t hold the phone (no thumbs).
At the same time as all these shenanigans I have noticed that the Iditarod, an 1100 mile dogsled race through the harsh, 0 degree tundra between Anchorage and Nome Alaska, is under way.
All that I can surmise is that my loving companion (I know that my wife and dog are in the same story so it’s a little confusing when I say “loving companion” but I am referring to my dog) has somehow gotten wind of the Iditarod. Of course I don’t mean that literally or he would stand perfectly still for hours with his eyes closed breathing in the ass music of a thousand distant malamutes. The only thing that Romeo can assume, since he has no concept of coincidence, is that I am lost in the life-threatening northern wasteland. He must imagine me surrounded by huskies that don’t really love me the way he does. Dogs that only care about dog things and can’t possibly protect me from whatever horrible, arctic beasts dwell in the frozen north the way that he could.
As I am landing in San Francisco and my wife is driving up the 101 to come get me I just know that Romeo has made a break for it. After doing one more meticulous check of every trash can and verifying that I am not still in my bed, I can only assume that his powerful sense of duty and new knowledge of my potential icy grave has driven him to great lengths. I can just see him wadding up just enough hair near the front door jam that it keeps it from latching when she leaves. Then he lays low for a few minutes. Suddenly the Mission Impossible theme starts and he’s up and moving through the house, gathering his travel aids.
One last bite of cat poop, and… and… I guess that’s all he would need. What an incredibly efficient animal. I hope when I get back he has lost his nerve citing the hill by our house as possibly impassible and traffic lights being a death trap due to his being color blind. I hope he has decided that although well intended, his harrowing rescue trip is not his best use. I hope he has decided that my memory would be better served if he stayed close to home. Staying and taking care of the family. Making sure the wife doesn’t eat a whole steak. You know, cholesterol. Making sure the children have someone to dress as a hairy princess. And making sure that the cat box is clean most of the time.
When I walk through the door, back from the great historic Iditarod Trail, his reverence for me will be complete. He will shower me with hops and kisses as if to say. You made it and I will never question your ability to make through the most extreme situations a human being can endure, until tomorrow when I forget all of this.
Poor Romeo
Thursday, March 6, 2008
IDOG
Good morning. Currently I am far from my dog, Romeo. Sometimes when I travel I wonder if he thinks disappearing is just another of my great powers that makes me the undisputed pack leader. He must sit staring at wife as if to say... "Please tell him that I get it. He rules and can do anything. Tell him that I understand that he can disappear at a moments notice and if he comes back I will treat him with the reverence he deserves. Please just tell him so that he will return and we can play sit, stay, pee and have beef knuckles like the old days. You know. Two days ago."
Hopefully, someday Apple will release the revolutionary new product that allows you to communicate with your beloved hairy pal... IDOG. Then and only then I will be able to explain the importance of my absence due to business travel and how that equals more beef knuckles. Then and only then will I be able to convey why I think he would be famous if he would just try to use a toilet and how that would lead to huge sponsorship deals with Charmin and even more beef knuckles. Then and only then will I be able to explain why Mama and Papa close the door to the bedroom a couple of times a week and don't let him in for up to four and a half minutes, no matter how much it sounds like one of us needs his help.
Well, in the absence of IDOG, Romeo and I have to guess at what one another really means leading to wacky misunderstandings. like the time I was very frustrated by my computer and kept repeating a four letter word that he thought meant to "sit" so he began to panic as I became more agitated and finally barked at me as if to say. "Dude! I feel like I've lost my mind I can't possible be more seated! You're not even lookin' at me! If you don't straighten this out I'm going to lose it and start eating the cat turds again."
Poor Dog Dork
Hopefully, someday Apple will release the revolutionary new product that allows you to communicate with your beloved hairy pal... IDOG. Then and only then I will be able to explain the importance of my absence due to business travel and how that equals more beef knuckles. Then and only then will I be able to convey why I think he would be famous if he would just try to use a toilet and how that would lead to huge sponsorship deals with Charmin and even more beef knuckles. Then and only then will I be able to explain why Mama and Papa close the door to the bedroom a couple of times a week and don't let him in for up to four and a half minutes, no matter how much it sounds like one of us needs his help.
Well, in the absence of IDOG, Romeo and I have to guess at what one another really means leading to wacky misunderstandings. like the time I was very frustrated by my computer and kept repeating a four letter word that he thought meant to "sit" so he began to panic as I became more agitated and finally barked at me as if to say. "Dude! I feel like I've lost my mind I can't possible be more seated! You're not even lookin' at me! If you don't straighten this out I'm going to lose it and start eating the cat turds again."
Poor Dog Dork
Wednesday, March 5, 2008
Dog Nerd
My dog is mostly Australian Shepherd (working dog). He was evaluated and I was told that he has the intellect of a two and half year old human child. Now I understand why he doesn't fit in with the other dogs and wears a pocket protector. He's way smarter than them. He is like the ultimate dog nerd.
"Hey fellas! What say we go find some human people and do exactly as they say! That's exhilarating!...Guys?"
"No thanks geek! We're gonna eat our own crap and run around aimlessly."
What do I tell him when he comes to me and says;
"Owner, I fear that the other dogs don't enjoy my company. Maybe it's that I am a working dog. Perhaps they envy me because I have a job and a 401K. They just chase that green round thing endlessly and they never want to play "sit, stay, speak" with me. It's as if the care more for that inanimate fuzzy green orb than their fellow canine. I know! I'll dress in a big, round, fuzzy green suit then maybe they will run along with me and be 'good dogs'."
Poor dog dork.
"Hey fellas! What say we go find some human people and do exactly as they say! That's exhilarating!...Guys?"
"No thanks geek! We're gonna eat our own crap and run around aimlessly."
What do I tell him when he comes to me and says;
"Owner, I fear that the other dogs don't enjoy my company. Maybe it's that I am a working dog. Perhaps they envy me because I have a job and a 401K. They just chase that green round thing endlessly and they never want to play "sit, stay, speak" with me. It's as if the care more for that inanimate fuzzy green orb than their fellow canine. I know! I'll dress in a big, round, fuzzy green suit then maybe they will run along with me and be 'good dogs'."
Poor dog dork.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
My dog is hurting my image
I was driving the streets of LA "feeling it".
I was on the hunt for my new home. Rentals are many in my price range but I have developed a standard for how my house should smell when I live in it. Therefor I have to sift through the wreckage of a thousand real estate deals gone awry due to overzealous agents, overspending wives, or under committed husbands.
In the process I have seen the term "single family home". This term must seem boastful to Cambodian people. In Cambodia a two bedroom apartment must be billed as a "17 family home. You can fit twenty but I'm going to need an additional deposit."
At any rate we have a dog so I've noticed something else. "Pet OK under 20 lbs". These prospective landlords all seem very concerned with how much my dog weighs. As if my dog's fitness somehow has an impact on my ability to pay the rent. "No man who allows his dog to care so little about it's body could possibly be successful enough in any field to handle his responsibilities in a timely manner."
So armed with this new knowledge of my dog's overall lack of interest in his appearance and well being effecting how the word views my commitment to adulthood. I sat down with my dog and had a little talk with. I said "Romeo. It has come to my attention that you're overweight and unhealthy according to people who haven't met you. These people have informed me that this is a reflection of how I handle my finances. Needless to say something has to change because now, it's not just about you anymore. Your preference for treats, lack of interest in tennis balls, and absence of exercise initiative is hurting my public image. I'm willing to help you but you have to want to help yourself." He stared at me and touched me with his paw. I can only assume that he was telling me he was ready to give up the beef bones and make a change.
We went out that day and began a strict training regiment. He lifts little weights, runs the entire time he's awake, and eats one chicken smoothie every day followed by 2 slurps of water. I am proud to say that he is down to 26 lbs and that's pretty good for a full grown, rather tall Australian Shepherd. He would also be happy but he's resting.
I haven't told him yet but as I get closer to the move in date he's going to have to cut weight pretty hard. He needs to lose at least another 4 lbs. I'll put him in the sauna for a couple of hours and that should get him close. If I shave him right before we meet the landlord, that should get him down to 21 lbs or so. I can cheat an extra pound if I insist on using my own scale for religious purposes.
Onward and upward folks. Here's to healthy animals and living in the big city!
I was on the hunt for my new home. Rentals are many in my price range but I have developed a standard for how my house should smell when I live in it. Therefor I have to sift through the wreckage of a thousand real estate deals gone awry due to overzealous agents, overspending wives, or under committed husbands.
In the process I have seen the term "single family home". This term must seem boastful to Cambodian people. In Cambodia a two bedroom apartment must be billed as a "17 family home. You can fit twenty but I'm going to need an additional deposit."
At any rate we have a dog so I've noticed something else. "Pet OK under 20 lbs". These prospective landlords all seem very concerned with how much my dog weighs. As if my dog's fitness somehow has an impact on my ability to pay the rent. "No man who allows his dog to care so little about it's body could possibly be successful enough in any field to handle his responsibilities in a timely manner."
So armed with this new knowledge of my dog's overall lack of interest in his appearance and well being effecting how the word views my commitment to adulthood. I sat down with my dog and had a little talk with. I said "Romeo. It has come to my attention that you're overweight and unhealthy according to people who haven't met you. These people have informed me that this is a reflection of how I handle my finances. Needless to say something has to change because now, it's not just about you anymore. Your preference for treats, lack of interest in tennis balls, and absence of exercise initiative is hurting my public image. I'm willing to help you but you have to want to help yourself." He stared at me and touched me with his paw. I can only assume that he was telling me he was ready to give up the beef bones and make a change.
We went out that day and began a strict training regiment. He lifts little weights, runs the entire time he's awake, and eats one chicken smoothie every day followed by 2 slurps of water. I am proud to say that he is down to 26 lbs and that's pretty good for a full grown, rather tall Australian Shepherd. He would also be happy but he's resting.
I haven't told him yet but as I get closer to the move in date he's going to have to cut weight pretty hard. He needs to lose at least another 4 lbs. I'll put him in the sauna for a couple of hours and that should get him close. If I shave him right before we meet the landlord, that should get him down to 21 lbs or so. I can cheat an extra pound if I insist on using my own scale for religious purposes.
Onward and upward folks. Here's to healthy animals and living in the big city!
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