A Forest Walk

Last weekend my mum took me for a walk along the bluebell trail in Nokesville, Virginia. Good thing her friend, Michele, and Michele's mummy, Inez, came with us. Without them, we would have gotten seriously lost and never found the bluebells. Mum has a terrible sense of direction. 


Just as I got into the smells and rhythm of the forest, we had to stop. Mum insisted we pose for a picture. Michele whipped out her camera and snapped away. I couldn't just stand there and pose, like some show dog. I felt restless, so I just kept moving. I just couldn't help myself. 


Anyway, here's a picture of Liz and me with the bluebells. 


Grace

Showers

Have you ever taken a shower with your dog? Why would you?

My mum takes a shower with me once every two weeks! Why so often? Because I have a little skin condition. The vet sold her this rip-off shampoo and "suggested" I shower once a week. That's a bit much, even for Liz. So, we've settled for a bi-weekly routine.

Here's the scenario:  I know it's shower time, when I hear the word "shower." After ten minutes of chasing me 'round the house, she grabs me by my collar and drags me (yes, drags me) upstairs and into the bathroom. Then she pushes me into the tub. I then suffer the humiliation of being hosed down, shampooed, rubbed and rinsed while she sings to me.

I don't care if it helps my skin condition. I don't care if I smell like a dog. I hate showers.

Grace

My Weight Update

I hate to admit it, but my mummy's "boot camp" is working. After a week of afternoon speed walks, fewer treats (except from my human dad), and more romps 'round the surrounding woods, I'm back to my fighting weight and shape. 


So, does Mum loosen things up a bit and let me get back to pigging out and lying around all day? No way. "Your challenge is to keep the weight off and stay in shape so you can take care of me in my old age," she tells me. 


I know she's no "spring chicken," but to me, she's just a tall, young two-footer with no fur or tail.  


What would life be without a tail? 


Grace

I'm in trouble (again)

I've put on weight!  My mom (who works hard to stay at her "fighting weight") says I'm turning into a fat American dog. 

So, I'm now on a "diet" (fewer treats, less generous dog food portions) and more -- much more exercise. Yesterday we walked (very fast) for more than an hour. Every time I turn around, my mum pushes me outside. "Run around! Chase squirrels!," she orders. "Burn up some calories!"

I know my mum still loves me, even if I'm a bit heavy. But I'm starving!

Grace

MY SPECIAL DAY

Today is my 6th birthday. A bit of history (in case you've already forgotten): I was born in St. Louis, MO on March 2, 2004, the first in a litter of six.

Six months later, I met my new human mum (Liz). (My first human mum -- "Mum#1-- is Carolyn, my breeder. She's a lot like the Dog Whisperer -- cause she has a magic touch and heart, when it comes to Airedale Terriers.) 

My day started out with my barking and waking up my mum. She bounced out of bed, headed down to the kitchen and let me out to do my business. Then she fed me my birthday breakfast (Bil Jack for adult doggies -- as usual) while singing the birthday song. It's a family tradition, or so she told me. I can't sing, so I just wagged my tail.

For my birthday, Liz gave me two new chew-proof tennis balls. I just hope she doesn't make me wear that stupid pink "birthday girl" ribbon. 

Uh, oh. Too late. 

Grace

MY HUMAN MUMMY (PART 2)

I always wondered why my human mum spent so much time tapping away at her computer. Yeh, I know she edits my blog. (Grammar and punctuation are not my strong points.) But what else was she doing? Why did she spend so much time staring at the computer screen? Perhaps she was ordering doggie treats for me. Maybe she was looking for an Airedale Terrier play group. 

One day, I decided to find out. She had left on her early morning swim, and I knew she'd be gone for a couple of hours. So, I sneaked into her office to look for clues. 

I climbed up on her big swivel chair (and nearly lost my balance). I sniffed around a huge stack of file folders. When I placed my paw on the pile, it toppled to the floor, scattering papers everywhere. What luck! I put on her reading glasses, jumped down and dug in.

I was so absorbed in my task, I lost track of the time. Before I knew it, I heard her footsteps on the stairs. I had to think quickly. So, I lay down and pretended I was asleep. Within seconds, her familiar smells filled the room and she was standing right over me.

"Gracie, why are you wearing my reading glasses?" I opened my eyes, stretched, sat up and tried to look adorable and innocent. Was she laughing or crying? I couldn't tell.

"Come on. Let's go downstairs and have some yoghurt."  (We both love yoghurt.)

My human mum is one cool lady, if I must say so, myself.

Grace

NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS REVISITED

O.K. Here it is the end of January, and I'm already sliding a bit. Well, more than a bit. I still haven't figured out how to brush my own teeth. I still stare at humans, like, all the time. I could go on and on, but I'd just get depressed. I've even developed a new -- and irritating habit -- trying to climb up on my mum's lap.

I can't help myself. Maybe I need to see a shrink.

Grace