My mom finally got me a blog makeover. Thank goodness! People were complaining they couldn’t read about my posts or see my photos.

We’re not too sure about this theme (my mom thought it looked good but she didn’t look too closely) so tell us what you think!

Click on the “Comments” below and tell us.

Mom says today was the ultimate in urban living for a canine — and for her, too. She was behind schedule so we flagged down a Yellow Cab to take me to the Dog Lounge.

We CUPPIEs know how to ride in a cab. I sat straight on my mom’s lap, looking out the window, and didn’t budge. The driver likes dogs (otherwise he wouldn’t have stopped for us). I started to help him by licking the window, but my mom was horrified. “Gracie,” she said, “you don’t need to wash the windows.”

I spent a delightful morning being pampered with a workout in the Big Dog area, followed by a bath, pedicure and ear trim. Summer gave me a beautiful red and white bandanna to wear home. Everybody on the bus made a fuss over me. “Such a well-behaved dog,” they said. “So beautiful.” It was a community of urban bus riders. And all created by me.

“What’s her name?”

“Gracie. Amazing Gracie. Or Princess Gracie.”

“What’s her breed?”

“All American Mutt,” my mom says proudly.

Come on, Mom. You’re a copywriter. Can’t you come up with something more…regal?

Yeah, right.

My mom just read me a story about a banker who lost her job. She couldn’t find a corporate position so she started walking dogs. You can read the story here.

Here’s what she wrote: “…I get so much gratification from walking dogs. They’re so appreciative of the simplest things you do for them. No matter how bad my day may be going, when I walk into a home and the dog is so happy to see me and gives me kisses, it puts a different spin on the day.”

I know just what she means. When my Aunt Sara comes to take me for a trip to Magnuson Park, I jump up and  down. Aunt Sara tells me to sit so she can put my leash on but I am so excited! Dog walkers are saints in my book.

More people should be dog walkers. My mom says we need cat groomers even more than dog walkers. She was hoping to find a mobile unit to groom Ophelia. Finally she gave up and just ordered a new comb. She’s become quite the do-it-yourselfer these days.

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/12/21/jobs/21pre.html?8dpc

With the cold and snow we aren’t going anywhere.

My mom wrote a poem about Christmas after she moved into her house in South Florida. She was overwhelmed with boxes. And it was just a few days before she got her first dog, so she had a lot more time. You can read it here.

“Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, just the Mac and the mouse…”

Still true.

Go visit: http://www.copy-cat-copywriting.com/santasouthflorida.html

Cathy took these photos of Lower Queen Anne, our “hood.”

It’s beautiful but Cathy is getting frustrated! She wants to run around downtown, go to the gym and take me to the Dog Lounge!

My mom Cathy took me out to play in the snow today. Seattle is buried under many inches and we’re stuck at home.

We spent about 40 minutes walking around the neighborhood. Can you tell I am starting to feel a little chilly?

Luckily Cathy was afraid my paws would get frostbitten. So soon afterward, we went back in. I headed straight for my bed. A cold dog is a a tired dog.

OK, it’s cold out there! Aunt Sara took me to the park yesterday and I came home exhausted. I’ve been sleeping…and sleeping. When Cathy takes me for walks, we’re both in a hurry.

Last night my mom was feeling really cold. It didn’t help that I managed to sit on one of her quilts and refused to budge. So finally Cathy grabbed me and said, “Gracie, time to earn your crunchies. You are now a heating pad.”

Good grief. That wasn’t in our adoption contract, was it? What about Ophelia? She should put her long hair to good use besides shedding all over the place.

But before I could protest, I found myself getting warm and drowsy. And then I was dreaming about running in the park with my buddies Bailey and Violet and that new puppy who just joined our pack. And getting hugs from Summer at the dog lounge. And walking out in the snow with my mom first thing in the morning. And then…

“Gracie! Ready for your walk?”

That’s not a dream. It’s for real. We go downstairs for our walk. Hey — the snow is all gone! Must be getting warmer.

No more heating pad. But I’m sure mom will come up with another ridiculous idea for me. Why should I have to earn my crunchies, anyway? Royal princesses aren’t supposed to work.

Yesterday evening my mom came home from the symphony, humming bits of Tchaikovsky’s 1st Symphony. Winter Dreams.

No, I didn’t recognize the tune. I am a dog, remember? She told me and the cats all about her latest musical adventure.

But then she took me out for my Late Night Walk. Winter Dreams? More like a Bad Dream. We were attacked by big fat wet snowflakes. And my mom was freezing, even in her parka with two sweaters. We walked half a block and Mom said, “Gracie, we aren’t going anywhere.”

OK, I have to admit it. I took care of business with haste and led the trek back to our apartment.

This morning all the buses were screwed up on account of snow. Mom was late getting to the gym and dropping me off at the Dog Lounge. She was irked.

I didn’t care. I spent an hour playing with the other dogs. Then I moved up front and helped my Big Sister Summer run the front desk. My job is to entertain everybody and pose for PR photos. It’s a tough life.

Summer sent my mom home with 2 sample packets of my favorite treats. Thank goodness. Since my mom went on her new diet, she’s been watching mine a little too enthusiastically.

I love my crate!

Which is good, because last night my mom got exasperated with me. I was curled up at the foot of her bed as usual and I was getting restless. So I was licking my paws and other parts of my anatomy that a lady should never discuss on her blog.

“That’s enough!” my mom shrieked as I woke her up from a terrific dream she was having. “It’s the crate for you!”

Uh oh. What did I do? Since when is scratching an itch considered a major crime?

But Mom tossed in my kong toy with a nice big chunk of peanut butter. Ah….who cares about the bed anyway? I can protect the household while I slurp.

My mom Cathy never gets sick. She’s tough! But Saturday evening she started feeling wretched. We all went to bed and slept…and slept.

She woke up Sunday morning and thought, “Time for exercise class.” Then she took me out for a walk (thank goodness!) and staggered home.

“Not today,” she told me, shaking out a few crunchies so I wouldn’t starve.

Here’s where I earned a year’s supply of crunchies and treats. I snuggled up next to my mom and didn’t budge. She felt safe and cozy with me there, stretched out, solid as a rock.

Of course our new housemate, Ophelia, stayed close by. She has her cushion and I have mine. We have an unspoken agreement and we joined forces to support our ailing owner.

Creampuff disappeared. She probably took advantage of the opportunity to snuggle up to her best friend, Cathy’s desktop computer. The modem is nice and warm.

By Monday Mom was back to normal. By noon she was drinking her coffee. At 2 PM she took me on a 40-minute walk. By evening she was off to exercise class.

And tomorrow I go to the park with Aunt Sara. Life is good.