Me and my brother foster brother have A LOT in common, but one special thing we share is our mutual love of football.
Want proof? This is about how excited both we get about the Superbowl:
And these are our Superbowl plans:
Hope everybody is looking forward to a relaxing weekend!
Mama sometimes says that when she calls me a handsome devil, she doesn’t mean that I should actually act like a devil. I don’t really get what that’s about, but she sits me down every now and then and says those words. Maybe I need to pay better attention.
So remember how all week mama has been making a big deal about my foster brother Dude’s heartworms, and how they made him real sick? And how he is also very anxietated when they leave, which is extra super dangerous because it makes his face drool and his heart go thump-thump-thump and it makes the headboard turn into sawdust, and I guess drool and thumping and sawdust are Very Bad when a dog’s heartworms are being killed?
Well. Mama and some of her big-brained dog loving friends got their heads together and thought: we wonder if that Dude were allowed to be together with that handsome devil (not actual devil), if that would help the Dude not feel like he has to thump-thump his wormy heart and make sawdust on mama and dad’s bed and leave big foamy puddles of drool by the doors and windows.
So they tried it. Now friends, you have to understand that this is a really big deal because even though I am a very good boy, I am also a handsome devil and so mama doesn’t normally ever leave me alone with any of my friends or frienemies, in case something happened to go wrong. But I guess I’ve been seeming extra trustworthy recently or maybe the Dude seems extra get-along-with-able, because she started leaving us alone together for a few minutes, then an hour, then two.
The first time, we were very good boys. The second time, we were very good boys. The third time?
Some of you remember when I admitted my former baking habit — I also have a garbage disposal habit, which mama says is related. I thought I had quit it, but it’s just so hard, especially when there’s a youngster around who needs to learn the ropes. How could he ever become a proper housedog without knowing the secrets and smelly wonders contained in a kitchen garbage can?
Well wouldn’t you know, mama and dad sure were surprised when they walked in to the house and discovered this masterpiece in the kitchen. Mama started laughing so hard that she almost fell down, and dad just kind of stood there — but he started laughing too when the Dude trotted into the kitchen and instead of looking kind of bashful and confused like I coached him, decided to go right back to work on the masterpiece. Silly Dude.
And before I knew it, mama invited us to go outside, where we had to stand for a good, long while.
Last Friday I confessed to you that I like dudes, remember? Well this Friday I have the following to tell you: My new foster brother is called The Dude. And I like him.
Here’s how it went down.
On the first morning, we started off like this:
And then that afternoon, we were like this:
And then I blinked and it was morning again and I woke up like this:
Now. A less gentle-dog-ly fellow might be peeved to wake up to a noseful of his brand new foster brother’s feet, but not I. Because first, as I mentioned last week, I promised my mama that I would love my new brother. And second, I secretly love the smell of dog feets (my mom loves it too so I guess it runs in the family).
Here’s the thing about the Dude. He and I are really, really good-looking together. He doesn’t have the beautiful brindle furs that I have, but otherwise, we go together so nicely. I am white with browns; he is brown with whites. Observe:
He is my perfect accessory, right? And really, there’s more to it than just how much he adores me the colors of his furs. He’s a pretty cool Dude. For one, he is majorly into snuggling, as am I. For two, he doesn’t try to play with me, which I appreciate (being the distinguished older gentleman that I am). And for three, well — I hate to reveal myself to be a big softie, but — I know he’s had a hard life and like mama says, he just needs a soft spot to land for a while. I don’t really remember what that’s like, but mama says I was in his shoes about 8 years ago (which is so silly because I don’t ever wear shoes). It only took me a day to give the Dude my full stamp of approval (the fastest of any of our fosters yet), and last night I told him a Very Sweet Thing. I said: Little Dude, I’ll be your soft spot to land on for as long as you need.
Now that I’ve shipped off foster sister Dora the Explorer to her new home, can I get something off my chest that I’ve been wanting to tell you for a long time?
I. Like. Dudes. Girls are ok, but I just really, really prefer boy dogs. You still love me, right?
All of my best friends are boys. Remember how famously I got along with my first boy foster dog, Gonzo Bunny-Ears? Yeah, it’s no coincidence that he was a dude.
And yet, mama keeps bringing home foster sisters for me. What’s the deal with that? I ALWAYS whine and complain, and mama says that rescue groups think it’s a good “rule of thumb” to place opposite gender dogs together for the best chances of success. But that’s dumb. I don’t even have any thumbs, so why would I care about a rule of thumbs? And she’s always talking about how “every dog is an individual,” so why doesn’t that apply to these kinds of preferences? If a Chick likes dudes better, let him foster dudes, I say!
So I begged and pleaded and begged and pleaded, and finally mama relented. She said that if I promised to be totally tender-sweet and love him like a true brother or best friend, she would bring me home a dude instead of a girl. And I promised. And I delivered.
Meet the new dude on Monday!
Mama did a little Christmas Jingle when Our Waldo Bungie invited us to participate in a bit of secret santa fun with some of our other cool dog friends and their blogger people — Twenty-Six To Life, Two Pitties in the City, Pittieful Love, That Touch of Pit, and Two Grad Students and a Pittie.
So we thought and thought and thought, and mama designed and designed, and then send off our special little gift to Nemo, Melanie, and Heidi at Twenty-Six To Life. We hope they like our creation! Pee-S, Dora the Explorer insisted that we use her colors, Raspberry Pink and Dora Gray, on your present.
And then like magic, we got the most delicious smelling package on the front step after we got back from our evening walk yesterday. It smelled like pure, pumpkiny heaven!
Well wouldn’t you know, it was an adorable, thoughtful, wonderful, delicious secret santa gift in the mail last night — a package from our mama’s home state of Maryland, from my good guy pal handsome Knox at Pittieful Love!
The humans got a tin of sweet, savory, spicy candied pecans (they say it taste great with that fizzy stuff that comes out of a bottle), and me and my Dora got a great big tin full of pumpkin spice dog treats, made by handsome Mister Knox himself. Knox was even nice enough to throw in some dog bone cookie cutters and his very own recipe for the pumpkin treats, so we can make them ourselves. Between you and me I’m not sure how Knox can bake without any supposable thumbs. And mama put the recipes and cookie cutters away in a high cabinet right away so that I didn’t get any baking ideas. But still — that was pretty thoughtful of Knox, huh?
Mama’s favorite part was the sweet card with a photo of Knox and his people, and my favorite part was the doggie santa hat! Obviously Knox remembered how much Dora and I love getting dressed up and having our photo taken. We are the hammiest of hams, after all!
Jess and Knox, we want you to know that the pumpkin treats are to die for — we slobbered all over in anticipation, and then loved them ever-so-much. But next time you send treats, please include specific instructions to mama that they are for snacking ONLY, and not for practicing our “leave it” command. Sheesh!
Thanks for the fun gift exchange, everybuddy!
For more info on adopting Dora the Explorer, click here or contact us at info [at] loveandaleash [dot] com.
I’ve gotta tell you guys. I really want to like Dora the Explorer. I really do. She’s so pretty, and mama and dad seem to like her ok. But honestly? She scares me a little.
Mama says that’s because I’m such a sensitive boy, and she’s such a confident girl. She loves dogs and loves to play, mama says. But me? I don’t really like to play. At least, not with new dogs. It takes me forever and a day to warm up to a dog before I’m ready to play, but Dora wants to play right away. I’ve never really been into loose women.
I really like my Dora when we go for walks together and when we’re hanging in the yard. When we’re outside, she ignores me and I ignore her, and that’s perfect for me.
We walk side by side, sometimes pretending we’re sled dogs. When it’s extra chilly, we put on our matching red hoodies and walk with our bodies and heads touching so that the touching sides stay a little warmer. In moments like those, I think I love her.
But when we’re inside, it’s a whole other story. Dora gets so excited when she sees me that she jumps, and barks, and basically throws a happy, excited little fit. And I know it’s so silly because she just wants to be my girlfriend, but it scares me. Sometimes I run away, sometimes I tremble a little, and sometimes I just close my eyes and pretend she’s not there.
Mama says that if we keep going nice and slow, maybe Dora will learn to chill out when I’m around inside, and I’ll learn how to not be so sensitive. I’m not really counting on it, but I guess we’ll see. I’m kinda hoping she gets adopted before we even get there. Won’t YOU please take her home with you?
XOXO, Sir Chick
For more info on adopting Dora the Explorer, click here or contact us at info [at] loveandaleash [dot] com.
You all probably know how much I loved my grandparents’ house in Merry-land, and how I’d go visit there all the time when mama and dad were traveling. I was sad to leave them and my best friend Tex, but you know what? I have another grandparents’ house here in my motherland, and we went there for Thanksgiving.
What did we do there in Galveston, you might be asking yourself?
Well, I did lots and lots of supervising the Turkeyman:
The turkeyman is my favorite because everybuddy else in the house is vegetarian, which is just plain silly.
I also got to do some mega-flirting with my great-grandma, who is one of my very favoritest old people. She’s so nice and always gives me little snacks from her plate. Sometimes she accidentally lets me take a sip of her Peanut Grigio wine, too!
Naturally, I did plenty of maxing and relaxing at the dinner table:
And on the sofas:
And out in the sunshine with my Turkeyman:
And last but not least, I spent some good quality time with my Disneydog. Disney is even older than my greatgrandma — she’s 17 — and I’m not sure how many more times we’ll get to hang out together on this side of the rainbow. She’s gotten a little skinnier and can’t see or hear very much anymore, and she is allowed to pee wherever she wants now. But she is still the boss of the house and she sure does keep me in line, and I respect her for that. I hope I’m just like Disneydog when I’m 17!
Hope everybody else had just as nice a Thanksgiving weekend!
We have much to be thankful for this year, and wish you a beautiful holiday weekend with plenty of time to reflect on the blessings in your own life.
Chick is planning to over-eat and spend the day napping in the sunshine. We hope your Thanksgiving is equally peaceful and full of warmth.
With much love,
Your friends at Love and a Six-Foot Leash
Well, she’s gone and done it. My mean mama has given me a bath in my new bathtub.
I had high hopes for this new house, but it turns out my new bathtub is just as evil as my old bathtub. Maybe even more evil because there’s a snake that spits water, and mama can hold it in her hand and make it spit at me. If it isn’t obvious just from me typing about it, I hate that snake.
Mama says the snake helps me get her get the dirt off my belly. I like the dirt just fine where it is, but I guess my evil mama prefers me to be as white as can be. Look at all the dirt in the bathtub. I worked hard to adhere it to myself, and she just ran it off into the water with her evil soap and her evil snake.
Maybe the worst think about taking a bath is that it reveals my top secret superhero spots that I work very hard to keep hidden from the world. They are the source of all my powers, and I swear they are weakened if everybody sees them. Just look at my secret ear spots and my leg spots — you’re not supposed to be able to see those!
Ok, but I have to admit. When the evil bath is over, one of my favorite things happens. Mama lifts me out of the bathtub and snuggles me up in a big soft towel. She rubs me all over and then lets me wear the towel like I’m Yoda. I kind of love it, but I pretend I’m still mad at her because I want her to know how much I hate bathtime.
And then another good thing happens. A long time ago mama and I made a deal — I will give her one bath of good behavior in exchange for one high-quality rawhide chew, payable upon completion of the evil bath. Here I am waiting with my payment by the back door to go out and chew it in the sunshine.
I would never, ever, ever say that it’s worth it, but I sure do love those rawhide chews in the sunshine.
I hope everybody is having a good week and steering clear of those evil bathtubs and the evil spitting snakes!
Hi guys!
I missed a few Chix-a-Lot Fridays because I was having so much fun playing with my uncle Tex the Lab at my grandparents’ house that I just didn’t have time to write. Plus I’m not great on the phone and mama was traveling in California, so I wouldn’t have been able to help her with the blogging anyway. So I’ve declared this week to officially be Chix-a-Lot Week!
Some of you have been reading for a while and remember that this foster brother supreme (me!) had to hang up his Maryland crab mallet and make the long three-day journey down to Austin, Texas, where he was happily reunited with his cowdog boots and pearl snap shirts. That’s right, we’re back in my homeland, Austin!
I can’t wait to start fostering other pit bull dogs again– it’s been almost a month since sweet Curious Georgia broke my heart by moving to her new home. But mama says we’re not ready quite yet, since we have a house full of boxes and haven’t even found our dog fostering supplies like our crate, extra leashes, bowls, and bribes treats yet. Hopefully we’ll get our first Texan foster dog right after Thanksgiving, yippee!
In the meantime, I want to introduce you to my new back yard! It’s my very favorite part of our new life, and it’s going to be perfect for all the dog fostering I’m going to do. It’s much bigger and much sunnier than my old yard, with plenty of stuff to sniff (the next door neighbors have free-range chickens) and plenty of places to roll around and scritch my own back (we have our own grass)!
This here is my new Live Oak tree. I have a couple of these in my front yard too, but this is the big one in my back yard. It’s my favorite place to take naps and sunbathe.
See that funny post there? That’s there to support the branch that sits on top of it. Live Oaks grow very very wide and not just tall, and sometimes they can’t support their own weight, and they need our help and the help of supports in the ground. This support supports the tree, and I support the support by peeing on it, eating all of my kongs right next to it, and taking all of my outdoor naps right under it. We’re getting to be good buddies!
Next up is my fire pit. When it gets cool at night in December and January, this is where we’ll invite our human and doggie friends over to sit around looking at the twinkly hot thing they make in there. Sometimes they put food on sticks and warm it up on top of the twinkly hot thing. Once I even got lucky enough to snatch one of the sticks that had been holding a sausage, and I ate the whole thing because it was covered in delicious sausage juices!
Okay, here is my mama’s new garden, and behind that, you can see some of our oak trees in the front yard. The people who lived here before had dogs too, and they cleverly put up an extra fence to keep the dogs out, can you believe it? I guess their dogs liked digging up tomato plants to find the compost and fish emulsion buried underneath as much as I do. I guess I’ll just have to admire her herbs, peppers, tomatoes, squash, and other goodies from out here. Oh well.
And last but not least, here is my very own dog house! Now mind you, I don’t do dog houses since the regular big house is my dog house. But still, it’s pretty neat to have a dog house in my yard. I plan to keep my foster brothers and sisters in there if they misbehave. Or that’s what I’m gonna tell them to keep them in line, because I’m nasty clever like that.
I hope you enjoyed meeting my new Austin yard!
Love and a Six-Foot Leash 