Could it be?

Back in the car, yet again.  But as we drove on and on, I started to get that prickly feeling.  The hairs on my ears rose up and started to point all in one direction, and I knew with that unerring canine sense that helps lost dogs everywhere to find their way, even across continents, that we were headed towards my home.  Then I no longer cared how long it took, that I was trapped in my box, that I needed to pee, that I wished I had a squeaky.  Everything went by in a blur until I heard a whining, and realized that it was coming from me and that we were driving up my driveway.  Then Amy was there and I was dancing with joy and I leapt up and gave Lindsay a big kiss on the nose for bringing me home.

Party Animal

Last night Mark and Lindsay had some friends over for Mark's birthday.  I thought that I would contribute to the festive flavor of the gathering by lying under the table with my squeaky skunk.  It gives me a really cozy feeling to squeak while surrounded by a forest of legs, with the cheerful hum of voices above me.  One of the guests turned out to be far more generous than the stingy Boyers and gave me a number of tidbits under the table as a reward for my lovely concert.  It feels good to have my talents appreciated.

Mighty Mouser

Those nomadic Boyers are always on the move.  When we got in the car yet again, I thought to myself, "They're like a bunch of jumping beans."  Thank goodness for my trusty box, which allows me to feel at home wherever I am.  Perhaps I really am a turtle after all.  However, it was rather pleasant to get back to the country and snuffle around in the grass.

In the evening they encouraged me to snuggle on the sofa and watch "The Good Wife," but I find those legal procedurals kind of dull, and I noticed an obnoxious mouse taunting me from across the room, so I decided to do a little hunting while everyone else lounged around.  I staked out a very wily spot and almost got that little devil.  I think I noticed everyone looking at me more respectfully afterwards.  If I can catch him today, maybe then they'll let me in the bed.

UPS calling 

I’m a little irritated at Amy.  Yesterday Lindsay was talking to Amy on the phone and telling her that Mark has nicknamed me The Turtle because I like to stay in my box and only occasionally poke my head out.  So?  What’s the big deal? I like it in my box. It’s not a crime. But Amy told her that a good way to get me out of my box is to knock on the wall and pretend to be calling out “Hello!” to the UPS man.  Man, I hate that!  I hate that stupid word “Pavlovian.”  Most of the time I know perfectly well that it’s not really the UPS man, but somehow I can’t stop myself from imagining the smell of cardboard boxes, that brown uniform . . . . grrrrrh!  Bite him, bite him! Then I have to deal with the disappointment that there’s no UPS man and the humilation that I’ve been tricked yet again.

A day of simple pleasures

Yesterday I really took it easy, taking a nap in the heavenly room and quietly enjoying my box.

In the evening I demonstrated my sophisticated grasp of the house etiquette by patiently waiting to be invited up on the sofa.  I brought my squeaky fox up with me. I can't really explain why it's so much more fun and exciting to squeak the squeaky on the sofa than down on the floor.  It's just one of those things.

Keep 'em guessing

Yesterday when Mark came back from karate, I greeted him as if he were a long-lost friend I hadn’t seen in many years.  I find it’s best to alternate between giving humans the cold shoulder and then showering them with hysterical enthusiasm.  That way they are always trying to be nice to you to get that warmly rewarding response. The suckers!

In the afternoon, Lindsay introduced me to a tiny room I hadn’t even noticed before that is a paradise where dogs are allowed on the bed at naptime.  I guess they’re keeping me guessing too!

Rhapsody of Squeaks

I didn't think that I wanted to go back to the city, but once I got back here and got over the initial shock of having to pee in the "prison yard," I found myself in an exuberant mood.  Lindsay provided me with a selection of squeaky instruments, so I decided to put on a performance.  I hadn't really given them a taste of what I can do, but I found that their squeaky frog and my beloved squeaky fox really put me in the mood.

I am going to miss the chipmunk hunting and the wading in that refreshing stream, but whenever I feel a little sad, I just cheer myself up with a few squeaks.

Getting into the swing of things

Yesterday I went on two long walks. Mark won me over by taking me for an extra walk and giving me a dog biscuit (or DBs, as they call them) every time I came when called. After my walk with Lindsay, I surprised her by running down to the stream and swimming across it myself so that she didn't even need to rinse me.  Refreshing!

At naptime she invited me to join her on the sofa.  I snuggled under the blanket and put my head on her feet.  I was hoping to show her not only how grateful I am for her kindnesses while I am staying here, but also how nice it would be if she would let me get in the bed.

When am I going to wake up?





Yesterday a couple of assaults were made on my person. First Mark decided to brush me, which bummed me out in a supreme fashion. Then, after a pleasant walk in the woods, Lindsay gave me a rinse in the stream. After my initial objections, I realized it was actually rather refreshing.

At naptime I decided to make my move. It has slowly become clear to me that I am not allowed to jump on the sofas, although this seems nonsensical to me, and I had a strong suspicion that I was also not allowed on the bed. However when I saw Lindsay settling down for a cosy nap on the bed, I was sure I could convince her that my presence would be a welcome addition, and I took a flying leap onto her chest. O sad moment! She did not want me there. I felt so bereft that I let Mark, the evil brusher, comfort me with a little pat.

I wasn't too keen to get back in the car again after only a day and a half in Brooklyn, especially since they made me get in that damn box again. Do they think I'm some kind of baby? But it was worth it, because we went to the country, where I took a long walk in the woods and chased some chipmunks.

I was feeling pretty good about things that evening, quietly lying in my box. I left it for just a minute to investigate an intriguing squeaky skunk, when Leo had the nerve to sneak into it. I could tell that he knew that he was doing something wrong from his furtive movements. I didn't realize how fondly I felt towards that box til Leo horned in on it in that shameless way.

Things got off to a good start yesterday.  We went for a long walk, and I got to sniff scores of urban canine bottoms, in all of their varied shapes and sizes, as well as all of the interesting residues that they leave in parks and on sidewalks.  The city certainly is culturally very rich!

However, after that things went downhill. The rest of my outings were to the very tiny yard here. You call this outdoors? It's more like a prison yard. Lindsay was out all day and Mark was working at his desk.

Today they seem to be making preparations for some kind of trip in the car. What next?

Just like being in the slammer

I've always wanted my own blog.  While Amy and Peter are away working on Peter's surgery and recovery, my main job is to have an excellent a time as possible, so this is my record of what a great time I am having with my city cousins in Brooklyn.

We drove for a long time while Lindsay sang loudly.  How am I going to keep up with current events if she doesn't play NPR?  Finally we arrived in Brooklyn, where there is a fascinatingly smelly yard filled with the doing of my cousins and plenty of things to bark at.  Nandi and Leo and Mark greeted me very warmly and seem glad to have me here, but why am I not allowed to lie on all their cozy sofas?  We all went for a walk around the block, and it is fun to be part of a pack. Perhaps tomorrow we will all go mad and attack something!

Hello Brooklyn!