I was trying to figure out how to pay a photographer to take a picture of me typing in Mom's blog. ( I was checking out work from home sites) Just then Mom came around the corner and said, "Russ what are you doing?" and snapped a picture. I gave her my very best "I'm innocent" look and she laughed. Then she said she would use the picture for a blog later. HA! Did I ever fool her?
So here I am sitting at the computer trying to decide what to write about, but I am really distracted by the keyboard. I love to chew keys, but last two times I did that Mom got increasing hinky about it. Still can't decide what to write about but the computer cords are looking pretty good. Nope, better not, Mom didn't think much of that trick either.
So I decided to make a list of my top 10 favorite things:
1) Rolling in smelly gross gooey stuff--absolute favorite--dead fish
2) Winning ribbons
3) Chasing squirrels
4) Skirts with fringe (Aunt Cindy didn't think much of that one)
5) Running in, out and between my sister Sara's legs. (Boy, is that ever fun, Mom says it is good practice for agility)
6) Romping in the yard especially when it is raining and really muddy. (Mom mutters about the number of towels that have to be washed. I don't get it)
7) Stealing baby Josh's toys--especially like the one that sounds like a fire engine
8) Hunting Cats--I love cats!
9) Pelting toys and leaving toy guts all over the house. (Mom mutters about her back...I don't get it why doesn't she just leave the stuff on the floor.)
And my all time favorite so far...
10) Swimming in the creek (although I have only figured out how to lure Mom there once, I am working on a return trip)
P.S. Uncle Rus--thanks for helping me win Best of Winners Saturday, but I have a special request for the future. Could you wear bell bottom pants? Mom says they are my favorite.
Russ came home from the show today and was well--we could probably characterize it as a little full of himself.
A nap was our first priority after taking Sara out for a quick business run, and, of course, Russ always enjoys a good afternoon nap with Mom. Except he decided to take his portion of the bed right out of the middle--laying fully extended perpendicular to the headboard. I slept like a pretzel, and woke up freezing. Now why was I so cold you might ask, because Russ had taken all my blankets and bunched them up underneath himself. He certainly looked comfortable.
After our nap, he wanted a romp in the yard. He charged this way and that for quite some time and then announced he was ready to go inside. Then he pelted one of his new toys--I can't for the life of me figure out the pelting of toys by a herding dog, but my border collie did it too.
Topping the evening off, I heard Kathy call to get the cats off the stairs so she could bring laundry down. Then I heard her say, "oh that's the reason for the log jam". Russ was camped out at the bottom of the stairs lying in wait for Skitch and Stubby. Trust me in these situations, no cat in his right mind is going to make a run for it. However, Skitch being Skitch he wasn't going to back down either, consequently the log jam. So I moved the majorly put out Corgi back to give the cats some navigation room, but, of course, Skitch decided to take a few pot shots at Russ before heading out. With as many jabs as Russ has received from that cat, I thank all that is right everyday that Skitch doesn't have any claws or Russ' face would be shredded.
So at the end of the day, Russ was put back in his place by an orange and white 9lb cat!
Just another day, and another laugh with my buddy Russ.
A pair of Kathy's reading glasses were Corgied this morning. We were having coffee with a friend and Russ was gleefully chewing on what I thought was a bone in the dining room. I could plainly see him, well to be honest--I could plainly see his backside and could hear what I thought was a bone--NOT. (Great now not only have I had to train my ear to the difference between bone and wood chewing, but have to fine tune it to the difference between bone, wood and reading glasses. I am sure this is not why my parents spent their hard earned money sending me to music lessons. Sigh)
Our friend said--well they must have been Corgi height. Which got me to thinking--What is Corgi height? Is it 4 Corgi feet on the ground? Which translates into just a little over 12 inches or hassock level. Is it stretched to his fullest while standing on his back legs? This translates into almost 3 ft or the edge of the kitchen table. Or is it anything he can jump up on and then stretch to his fullest so as to liberate some poor unsuspecting object. This translates into 6 or more ft. or end tables, Kathy's desk, essentially anything in the house. Now from Russ' perspective the later is his definition and from my perspective the former is right definition.
Well for now Russ is one more up, but have I mentioned I am very competitive. Trust me it isn't over until I win! (Kathy just came in and said I am blissfully naive and I will never win. Sigh)
Tomorrow is Russ' third show. He really enjoys showing and has a blast, but the grooming that leads up to the show--well that he could leave. He endures his bath, rinse and buff, but the blow drying--well he just "doesn't get the point". No manner of assuring him that it is important reaps anything positive. Check out his disgust.
Okay it is baby day, and when and even if I get a shower is a crap shoot. (Of course, I could get up early and take one before he gets to the house, but lets face it I have never met a morning I liked. The last time in my adulthood I willingly got out of bed before 9 was on a ski trip to Keystone to watch the sun come up over the mountain. Now look I am all distracted again) Anyway, about 1:00pm today, the baby was sleeping, Russ was sleeping (see picture 1)so I thought wow I can get my shower. I tiptoed up the stairs, and got showered.
I peeked around the stairs and Russ was not waiting for me at the foot so I naively thought he was still sleeping, so I got dressed and even blew dried my hair. Wow what a treat! I went back down stairs thinking I would find my sleeping puppy in the reading chair--NOT! Crud! I start to look for him and survey any damage.
I find him looking all innocent hanging out in his "front room reading chair".(see picture 2) I did not see any signs of carnage, so I said wow I dodged a bullet. I head to the kitchen to do the lunch dishes. And then I see it--fabric for a crate cover, my reading glasses and the pattern (see picture 3). He had just strewn it about, so I think that I must have foiled his plot to shred it when he heard me coming down the stairs and he beat Corgi feet to the chair.
Just another day and another laugh with my buddy Russ.
Today Mom said it was time to get the RV ready to go to a show down south. She put away a bunch of junk. Then she said it was time to go get something called propane and gasoline. I didn't get it but she said we needed one to cook and the other to run the RV. You will never guess what she did next--she went and got my crate from the truck!
She told me to kennel up, but I didn't want to but she said I had no choice in the matter. But worst yet, she let Sara run free, and she even got to sit shot gun! Mom said something else I didn't get about me having security issues and needed to be in a den. She talks all that social worker stuff and I don't get it.
Mom muttered about the price of gas and then she said we had to go to a store called Wal--something. Again, she left Sara to roam free and me trapped in the stupid crate while she and Kathy shopped. Yesh! They came back out and put more junk away. We drove home with me still trapped in the crate.
Hey all you good folks out there in Internet land, please e-mail ( firstname.lastname@example.org )me how to get this stupid crate open. Can you imagine how awful it will be riding all the way down south trapped in that rotten crate. Gotta run, Mom just heard me typing.....
After a rough morning of herding, avoiding squirrels, and widdling on the carpet, Russ is napping. Only when Russ sleeps hard he dreams big. His legs run with the wind and he sleep barks. I think he is dreaming of chasing the Big Cats on his pillows!
Someone in our neighborhood is feeding the squirrels. In fact, one of the recipients of these free meals has taken up residence in our Bradford Pear tree. He is a big fat sassy squirrel who frankly I am a little bit afraid of as he chatters at the dogs and makes threatening gestures. Anyway I digress, every time I think I have all the corn cobs cleaned up another one appears in our yard. Russ thinks these empty corn cobs are great chew toys, so I fight a never ending battle with him to leave the disgusting things alone.
So today we had our usual repartee of me finding Russ chewing on the cob, telling him to leave it, then taking it out of his mouth, followed by his "I don't get it look". But what I haven't mentioned is every time I stop him from doing something he really wants to do he immediately goes into herding overdrive. He circles, nudges, grabs my pant legs--oh my I just had an awful thought about summer and shorts--and generally tries to get me to do exactly what he wants me to do. So this scenario usually ends with me trudging toward our front door with a Corgi hanging off my pants!
But today takes the cake, I got so distracted by the demented squirrel, dog chewing the corn cob, and me hoping my pants last until summer that I forgot Russ hadn't done his duty. Yep you guessed it, he walked in the house and went right in front of my reading chair--well I should probably be honest--it's really his chair now. (Ha! I got the Spot Bot out!)
Just another day and another laugh with my buddy Russ.
Sara is our 10 yr old lab mix who even as a young dog was a lumbering lummox who never went more than a mile without lying down and rolling in the grass to rest and cool off. Now that she is old and arthritis has set in she goes about 100 yds and is done.. But she still loves her "walks', so the routine we have is to walk up about a city block and then back home before Russ and I take our real walk.
Russ is always impatient about the speed with which Sara makes her way up the block. But today instead of just engaging in his usual impish behavior of spinning around her, he took matters into his own hands or mouth as it were. He grabbed Sara's leash and tried to be either her personal fountain of youth or trainer. It's hard to say which but my money is on him thinking he was Ponce de Leon. Anyway, he is pulling her along trying his best to speed her up, but Sara being Sara just lumbered along in her usual manner. When the show started I thought Sara would quickly put the puppy in his place but no go--she silently tolerated his antics. After about 10 ft of this I intervened, and Russ gave me one of his now legendary, "I don't get it" looks while Sara flashed a big doe eyed "thanks Mom".
Russ here. Mom heard the cats carrying on liked they were possessed by something, and of course, she assumed it was me tormenting them. But HA it wasn't me, and she had to apologize. I was just chewing my bone. I was completely innocent. Mom muttered something about that was for all times she didn't catch me. I didn't get it--I am innocent!
Well it certainly did not take long for Russ to exact his revenge. We had our usual Monday morning routine--up early, outside for business, then inside by 7:00am to greet the baby. I was feeding the baby at about 7:15 when Nick announced that Russ had an accident in the living room. Accident--I don't think it was an accident--4 piles of doo in the front room!
What he failed to include in his revenge equation was my use of the Spot Bot! (Let me pause for a commercial--Spot Bots Rock!)
He is now plotting his next chess move from the comfort of the leather chair.
This evening I decided to trim Russ' nails. We have used the old fashioned trial and error method of finding the best way to trim him and landed on--Kathy holding him belly up on her lap and gently talking to him about the days events. We have come a long way from him acting like we are trying to skin him but he still will occasionally squirm. Up until tonight, when he moved I was able to recover, but tonight I nicked his quick. There was a small amount of blood for which the styptic stick stopped the bleeding immediately. He never fussed until Kathy put him down.
Then he let me have it. He couldn't tell me loud or often enough what a blooming idiot I was and that I should never be allowed to handle sharp objects again. In fact at one point during the tirade I think he suggested blunted kindergarten scissors would be too much for me to handle. I told him I was very sorry but nail trimming was not optional. He assured me I will get mine.
It has been about and hour now since the trimming incident and he is still furious with me. Among other things he is bashing the treat ball that has my voice recorded on it into the wall. Let's hope the plaster holds!
Just another day and another laugh with my buddy Russ.
My brother, his wife and their daughter Issy were here for a visit just a short while ago. Issy has decided she really really wants to learn how to show a dog, so I thought taking her to a conformation class would be a good experience. Off we go to the local kennel club's class, and Russ was on fire. He was doing everything beautifully, and Issy was begging to give it a go. So , what the heck, I hand off his leash to her for a run down the mats.
Issy takes the leash with all the confidence of a seasoned handler and starts down on the diagonal. Well Russ has other ideas and herds her into the opposite corner complete with grabbing pant legs. So I stroll across the floor to rescue the poor dear, but also didn't want to embarrass her. When I reached her she looks at me and says, "I guess it's a good thing that I want to show Shih Tzu's." I said, " Yes, dear only people who are a little tipped like Auntie Kim love Corgis." Without missing a beat, she looked up at me and said, "That's what Daddy said too."
Just another day, and another laugh with my buddy Russ!
We have found the squirt bottle or even the threat of getting the squirt bottle the best deterrent for barking, chasing the old cat Tigger, indelicacies that come with having a male dog, and the like. Now we understand Russ well enough to know that the first chance he gets he is going to do away with the squirt bottle, so we are very careful to keep them above Corgi reach. As he has grown, Corgi height has changed dramatically and today when his head popped up over the edge of the kitchen table--well let's just say I was dumbfounded. (Took me a few seconds, but OFF came out of my mouth!)
So I suppose that I should not have been surprised when I found him chewing the squirt bottle that I just happen to know was on the desk! But I was surprised to find that he figured out how to unscrew it, empty the contents on the rug, and then chew the actual squirt mechanism. Little does he know, we have back-ups!
Those big 'ol bat ears just slay me, and Russ uses his ears very expressively. I found him this morning with peaked attention, and asked, "Hey satellite, what's ya bringing in". He replied, "Devious feline activity."
We are getting ready for a flood at our cottage, so today some friends were helping us pack up. Russ did not think much of this strange behavior, but finally decided that while humans engage in weird behavior there is little he can do to change it. So he decided to do what he enjoys most at the river--roll in gross stuff. Check out our You Tube Video of the "roll". http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=SeAh70_6iUY
Kathy came up with a new verb in our house--Corgied. Let me tell you a lot of things have been Corgied in our house, but I'll let the pictures tell the tales! (Trust me nothing is getting replaced or fixed until all the babies are grown!)
Another day, another laugh with my buddy Russ.
P.S. Dad I will have the antique rocker restored once the Corgi babies are grown. Pinky swear!
Okay three posts in one day may seem excessive but it has been quite a day of Corgi Capers.
After having the baby all day, I made a mad dash to the grocery for some quick pasta primavera supplies. A hour later we are all sitting down for a nice quiet family dinner when I heard a strange rustling noise. I said, "What was that?" Kathy replied, "It can't be Russ he is right under my feet." I looked under the table and all I saw was Sara. (Check out the blog picture of Sara and Russ--hard to mistake the two). I knew immediately that Russ was up to something and set out to find out what. I quickly found him chewing money he had scammed from my wallet which by the way was sitting half way up the stairs. (Fortunately the camera was sitting on the coffee table right next to where he was disposing of my money!) My driver's license and credit cards were untouched, all he did was dog slime a few single dollar bills.
Can you spell jealous? Another day, another laugh with my Cardi buddy Russ.
Okay usually I only write one blog a day but today while I was writing the last post Russ decided to unpack the diaper bag. Just as I published I heard an odd noise and went to investigate. Oh my what I found...wet one's ripped to shreds, socks pulled from the bag, my scuffs pulled from the basket and gold fish and peach puffs were being eaten for a late morning snack. I retrieved the "snacks" and took some pictures mean while Russ took up his post in the kitchen. As soon as I walked down the hall, he gave me the "What's the problem...I don't get it" look.
It is Monday so it is baby day and as I have noted before it can be a little crazy. As baby Josh is walking now, we have barricades up around stairs, over outlets, and in forbidden room doorways just to control the chaos a little bit.
Josh and Russ have learned that each other's toys are way more fun than their own and consequently I have pretty much given up on trying to redirect toy allocation except when Josh chews Russ' toys and vice versa. So this morning has gone pretty much as expected until I went up stairs to put the baby down for a nap.
When I returned I found Russ camped out in the living room with all the couch pillows, hearth rug, Josh's toys and a ball glove. I told him that if he was trying out for HGTV's design star show that he had his work cut out for him.
Russ can be a little intense especially in the morning. When he wakes up, he is ready to be up and out the door quickly. We learned this early in our dog-human bonding time, so this morning was not much different than any other morning except I thought, albeit stupidly, that since it was Sunday I could convince him to go back to bed with me.
Here's the scene... We go outside for a business session, and instead of our usual routine of sit/stay by the front door while I take off shoes, hang up my coat, and remove his leash, I put him on the chairlift to go back upstairs. He was game because it did not involve the horrible long sit/stay! I put him back in bed, gave him a toy and naively crawled back into bed. Immediately it started--bark, bark, bark, bark. I told myself if I just ignore him he will settle down. Wrong! More bark, bark, bark, bark. I covered my head with the blanket and hoped he would settle. Wrong Again...more barking! I gave up and got up.
Check out how smug he looks when he won the battle of wills!
When you have small children in the house one does not expect any privacy, but my son is 17 yrs. old and I have enjoyed privacy for a number of years. Enter stage left--Russ the Cardigan. A closed bathroom door is torture for Mr. Russ, so he figured out how to open the door. If he hits it just right or pulls the handle--pop he is in! Oh my...how many years will this go on?
Russ takes his job of keeping the world safe from cats very seriously. He herds, chases and generally creates havoc in their lives. We decided early on that the cats were very young and as long as he wasn't being aggressive we would let the situation resolve itself. Well it has--the cat pecking order has been turned upside down with Skitch the mild mannered lover boy becoming top cat. He will take no crap from the Corgi! Here's how it unfolded today...
Russ took up his usual watchful spot at the head of the stairs by the baby gate. (Basement is the cat refuge and Corgi free zone.) This way he can be assured that he is poised and ready for any cat activity. Well Skitch was not having any of it and charges through the gate like a feline possessed and lands right on top of Russ. Russ bid a hasty retreat complete with a Corgi "kiyi". (Note the tip of Russ' tail as he runs from my used to be mild mannered kitty Skitch)
Russ and I were out on a very nice walk today and he was being so well behaved I decided to stop at his favorite "beach". Well actually it is a sandy area next to the creek and he loves to romp and find hidden stuff in the sand. I have been very clear that the creek is off limits, and he has respected this boundary. Until today...
So we stop at the "beach" and he is running, turning, digging and generally having a wee of a good time. All of a sudden he gets a wild hair, and literally takes a flying leap and belly flops in the creek. It was 54degrees and the water was COLD! I call to him to get his sorry self out of the water but I got the Corgi finger, and it was very clear that he wasn't coming out until he was a Corgisicle. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry, so I laughed until I realized I was going to have to go in after him.
Did I say it was 54? Well 54 feels good in jeans and a sweatshirt, but shoeless, sockless with my pants rolled up above my knees was pretty chilly. I wade in after the little bugger--stones killing my nearly frozen feet, but hey it's all in a day with a Cardi puppy, right? I retrieve the Corgi who is none to happy about being forcibly removed from the water and make my way back to shore.
Russ shakes off the cold water while I put shoes and socks back on and we head for home. Now he is a herding dog with a typical herder attitude so he is fine, but me I am cold, wet and cranky. And I know that the minute we get home, I have to give him a bath because he is beyond being a mess! Did I mention that he rolled in the sand after I took him out of the water?
He hates being bathed so in my mind this is sweet revenge, but he loves being clean. The movies were taken during his celebratory laps around the house following his bath. (Sorry no pictures from the swimming expedition--forgot the camera and even if I did have it with me, I was a little busy trying not to go swimming myself!) (3/13/07 I added a picture of Russ at the beach taken several days ago)
When Russ arrived in our home the only thing that shocked me was that he wasn't allowed to climb steps until he reaches maturity or around 18 months. I remember reading that and thinking "holy cow, Batman--he is going to weigh 35lbs by then". Then I quickly remembered we had chair lifts. We started teaching him immediately how to ride patiently up and down, and now he sits and waits as if it is his due to ride in comfort while the rest of us slogs climb the steps!
You might be wondering if we put the chair lift in for the dog, and while I suppose it is possible we would do such a thing the chair lift predates Russ. They were put in for Kathy's mother when she broke her ankle. Now I vote them among the top ten additions to our house--second only to the Spot Bot! I still bow down and thank all that is good and true daily for the Spot Bot!
We are getting ready to go to the National Cardigan Corgi show, so preparations include getting the RV ready. The RV lives at our river house, so Russ, Kathy and I headed to the river to charge batteries, run the generator, and generally see what all would be needed before we head south.
So Russ is frolicking and playing in the side yard when I notice him rolling in something while chewing some foreign object. Without missing a beat, I say, "leave it" and he drop the object. By this time I am standing next to him and realize he was chewing on part of a fish and what he was rolling in was the rest of the dead yucky fish. Completely grossed out--I promised him that his days of kissing me are over until he learns how to rinse with Listerine!
Now you might be wondering how a fish got in our side yard. A good question. Here's the deal--sometime in January bald eagles arrive in our pool of the Mississippi River, and stay until the northern waters are ice free. Eagles are exclusively fish eaters. Once they snare a fish with their amazing talons, they fly up to the trees to eat the squirming very much alive fish. Sometimes they lose the fish and it ends up---yep you guessed it on the residential yards. So my cute little corgi found one dropped fish. Still gross and Russ will not be licking me until his teeth get a good brushing. Fortunately he likes beef flavored toothpaste.
Tuesday is always a busy day, but today chaos is the only appropriate word to describe the happenings.
Did I mention that my hard drive got wiped clean leaving only a MS DOS prompt? Well living on that computer was my calendar, so for the last couple of weeks every day has been a crap shoot. But today took the cake, Kathy had an eye appointment, I remembered my hair appointment for a cut and color at noon but I didn't remember that I had Dr. appointment as well. So at 10:20, I learned I had a 10:30 appointment. Hello! Okay I locked Sara in the bathroom because she hates the vacuum cleaner even more than Russ and would eat the cleaning woman, jumped in the shower, had clean clothes on and reasonably dry hair and was out the door 7 minutes later.
It wasn't until I was at the doctor that I remembered I left Russ out. Now my little buddy can get into trouble with supervision--imagine my panic. Kathy was only about 5 minutes from the house so she scooted home to assess damage, triage as necessary and put Russ in his crate.
Turns out all he did with his time was roll the voice recorded treat dispensing toy in front of the bathroom door to torment Sara with the sound of my voice saying, "Sara, Russ, come and get a treat. Here puppy puppy puppy". Poor Sara! (But she loves Russ so much that she didn't destroy the toy or Russ for that matter when she was released from captivity)
PS The picture is of Russ hanging out with my new computer. He was probably dreaming of eating more keys, posting to his blog, or checking the number of points he has or.....?
Russ is starring with his Champion Uncle Moose on the homepage at Foggy Bottom. I am so proud of him and his Uncle Moose. They look amazing and definitely regal on this page. But as Russ' breeder and Moose's mom Cindy already noted, we all know they are puddle swimming, roll in anything smelly Corgis who are capable of all manner of capers. But today at this moment--they are stars of the show! Check it out www.foggybottomusa.com
Russ here. I hate the Spot Bot. I really hate the Spot Bot. It is loud and ugly. It is an evil machine. I want to find a place to dump it but Mom keeps finding it. Please e-mail me privately with ideas about getting rid of the Spot Bot. I can be reached at email@example.com No really I can be reached at this e-mail address--Mom set it up but I changed the password. Russ out--Mom is coming.
Russ is a morning dog. No let me be really clear--Russ is an in your face, I'm up so everybody in the universe should be up morning dog. (I have tried various parent tricks to get him to sleep later--keeping him up later, taking him out very late for his last widdle run, but nope no good--he is a morning dog) Let's take a walk through Sunday morning with Russ.
At O'ridiculous :30 he announces that it is time to get up. He has the most interesting noises that sound a bit like a cross between a cow in labor and a bark. I beg for just a few more minutes, but no way, he is ready to get up.
O'ridiculous:33, he and Sara are tethered and ready to go outside. It was a beautiful sunny morning, so much romping and frolicking without much business happening. (If you remember, we had an incident where Russ completely forgot to do his duty a few days ago, so I am patient.) All of a sudden Russ starts barking like "Jack the Ripper" has returned from the dead and is heading right for me. Then I realize he is guarding me from a flying piece of white plastic.
Let me pause for a breed moment--Cardigan's are breed for herding (sheep, cattle, etc), tending or keeping the children in the yard while parents were in the field, and it has been said they would have been set to doing the washing and ironing if they only had thumbs. Importantly, they also were breed to guard the homestead. Now Russ takes his job of guardian of the home fires very seriously. Many have said that if they didn't know he was a mere 30lbs they would take him for a big dog with his bark. So here it is O'ridiculous:39 and he is carrying on like this piece of white plastic is going to kill me dead in seconds. It takes a couple of minutes, and proving that white plastic is harmless and he settles down.
We return to the house where two teenage boys (my son had a friend sleep over) are eagerly awaiting a down home farm style breakfast--waffles, biscuits and sausage gravy, hashbrowns, and bacon. So while I busy myself with this, Russ keeps the world safe from cats. He romps a bit with Sara and tries to get the tennis ball out of the plastic dog puzzle. Life is good.
When we sit down to breakfast, he decides to redecorate. My mother-in-law comments that it is nice to have a dog that takes an interest in the house. Anyway after he pulls his crate to the middle of the floor and takes out the crate cushion. He seems satisfied with the results and moves on.
After breakfast he is ready for his second trip outdoors. It is much warmer so more romping, running, and frolicking. This time he is so excited to be in outside he starts rolling in the grass. He gets completely lost in the activity and rolls right into the sump pump release hole. He is muddy and wet but happy. Being a sturdy herder, he shakes it off and carries on.
He decides that grass is fun and can be ripped and shredded. He runs as fast as he can, stops cold, pulls grass up by the mouthful and shreds it to bits. I initally was horrified by the scene but quickly decided that it was much like when Nick was young--we were raising a kid not a grass farm. I have had a good number of years of beautiful grass and now we are raising a Corgi (soon two) and not grass! May the fun continue!
He is sound asleep now, as once the morning antics are over, he really needs a long nap.
On our walk today Russ was having his usual good time. There were squirrels, deer, bikes, and people. Well at some point along the way he decides to herd me. I decided this time to stand my ground and told him firmly "No" and then ignored him. Russ does not take well to being ignored so he doubles back, jumps up and snatches my mitten. With his ill gotten gain he takes off for the hills. Lucky for me I always have him dragging a 20ft lead! Imagine his surprise when I reigned him in and took back my mitten. He once again feigned innocence and accused his evil twin Rosario. Who me? Is wasn't me?
This is definitely one for the scrapbook, but before I begin I feel the need to flash back a few years.
About 3 yrs ago, my sister Heidi and I were walking the bike path after dark and a strange fellow approached us. My sister was walking Sara and I had my beloved border collie Tippy. When the fellow got close enough to hear me, I said to Tippy, "Let's go Killer". The fellow avoided us like we had the plague. Mission accomplished. Later Heidi decided she should have called Sara--Bullet. (Believe you me when Sara was a young dog, Bullet was perfect. She could run a straight line like greased lightening!) Okay flash forward to today....
A new physical therapist (PT) called today to say he was on his way and wanted us to "put away our vicious dog". Vicious dog--we don't have a vicious dog, so imagine my surprise. When the new PT came to the door, I met him at the door with Russ in my arms. He said, "Is this the vicious dog"? I said, "Yep, we call him Killer". The obviously embarrassed PT reached out to pet Russ and Russ licked his hand. Yes indeed a vicious dog for sure.
Turns out what happened was the previous PT has put in the system computer that we had a vicious dog. As Paul Harvey would say--here is the rest of the story. When the previous PT had come to the door, Russ had met him and jumped up on him. When this happened I told Russ off and he got down and went about his happy business. Oh my if this constitutes a vicious dog--we are all in trouble!
My buddy Russ and I were playing a rousing game of tug and chase the ball when the phone rang. Shoot, but it could be the school so I decided to answer it. As I walked toward the phone, I made a request of Russ that he not get into anything while I was busy!
I was gone for maybe two minutes and returned to the living room for more fun and games with my Corgi. Imagine my surprise when I found him passed out on the couch. It is such a shame that he can't relax.