Category: dog lounge

Dog Becomes Heating Pad

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.dog in snow

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.

Mom is a snow-phobe

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.

Mom looks great and I’m exhausted.

My mom has been getting compliments on her new svelte self. Back in August, she declared 2008-2009 the Year of the Body. I must admit, I’m surprised. She keeps to her self-imposed diet (based on a combo of the Food Ranger and a couple of books she read). She goes to exercise classes.

She won’t get on a scale, but the other day she said, “I can’t wear these shorts anymore. They’re fallinglosingi inches off! I can’t hold them up when I’m holding your leash.” She gave me a look that said, “Somebody needs to walk better on leash.” Who, me?

She’s always complaining about sore muscles but I have no sympathy. Mom’s got me on a good behavior program. That means I go to Magnuson Park twice a week and the Dog Lounge at least once a week. I’m tired too. Mom says, “Dogs are supposed to feel a little sleepy all the time.”

Great idea in theory, but I seem to be in a one-down position when it comes to the cats.

Secret Agent Gracie? Or Princess Gracie?

Here I am at the Downtown Dog Lounge, greeting my faithful subjects, Summer and Cynthia.

dog with sunglassesAs a CUPPIE, I don’t spend much time in the big play area with the other dogs. I sit on the couch and get the respect I so richly deserve.

My mom says this picture makes me look like a Secret Agent. Well, no one is better at sniffing out food.

But I’m a celebrity. Didn’t Jackie-O have big sunglasses?

My owner needs the exercise…so why do I get involved?

Yesterday Cathy decided she should drop by her gym for a quick workout. She was having withdrawal symptoms after her nearby gym branch closed, along with her killer Sunday workout.

Great idea, mom. But why did you drop me off at the dog lounge? I was ready for a nap.

Fortunately for me, I found some nice dogs whose owners had gone away for the weekend. Some of us are old friends by now. Even more fortunately, Summer brought me up front to hang out with her at the reception desk. So I got a good rest while my mom did her thing.

After she picked me up, Cathy took me across the street to the dog park. I connected with a rowdy French bulldog who let me chase him for a good half hour.

Cathy didn’t budge. She sat in the sun. I could have got away with anything.

Soon my tongue was hanging and even my dim-witted fanatical owner got the message. Time to go home and eat. Crunchies for me, carrots for my Mom.

Hopefully we’ll get a day of rest on Labor Day, but I doubt it.

Dog owner becomes caregiver to aging feline

My mom Cathy finally recognized her limits as a caregiver. She advertised on craigslist for a special needs pet sitter who could help give Tiger fluids. Sure enough, a delightful former vet tech named Jen answered her plea.

Jen came over Wednesday and walked Cathy through the process. She came back today and said Cathy’s doing much better. She even complimented Cathy’s ability to shove a big pill down Tiger’s throat.

Cathy was so excited because Tiger jumped up on the counter and ate a few mouthfuls of food without being prompted. What’s the big deal? I eat all the time, don’t I?cat eating

But I absolutely adore Jen. While she was talking to my mom, she gave me a full body massage. She rubbed my tummy and talked to me in soothing tones, clearly recognizing my royal stature.

Cathy offered to help Jen develop her website when Jen gets ready to expand her practice. My mom has a one-track mind.

Jen did offer a parting shot as she headed out.

“You could give Gracie low-calorie carrots instead of her usual treats,” she said. “Dogs don’t know the difference.”

Who said the f-word? I’m not fat. I’m just becoming royally queen-sized.

Visiting the dog park on a sunny day

Saturday was so beautiful. Mom was thrilled to be wearing shorts. I liked feeling sun on my fur .entering Regrade Dog Park

So after my bath and some play time at the Dog Lounge, we just had to go to the Dog Park across the street.

Look at all those rules! The only one I care about is, “Bring food at your own risk.” One day some wonderful person (my word) or idiot (my mom’s view) brought her lunch and left a whole bagel untended for all of 10 seconds. I grabbed a half and raced around the park, competing with half a dozen other dogs. Great exercise and I was the big winner.

“If Gracie steals food in the park, I’m not paying anyone a dime,” my mom says. This time she’s right.

Here’s a photo of Ed, one of the park regulars, with Sheba, one of his two dogs.

Ed likes to fuss over me (who doesn’t?), but Sheba gets jealous and knocks me down. When that happens I go over to Cathy and say, “It’s time to go home.”

We met a new dog on Saturday: Jack, newly adopted by Melissa and Jeremy.

dog park visitor with dog

They found Jack on Craigslist. He’s shaved because his fur was matted and he came with a digestive disorder. Apparently he’s allergic to corn and wheat so he’s on a special diet and doing fine. He was already house trained and very polite but they weren’t sure how he’d deal with other dogs and people.

Of course I checked him out and I’m so mellow, few dogs can resist. They even use me for temperament tests in the Dog Lounge. Within minutes Jack was sniffing out new friends all over the park.

We were waiting at the bus stop when they hailed a cab. I had to laugh. The driver seemed to be asking about the dog but Melissa was firm. “He’ll just sit on the seat and he’s very good in cars.” No room for discussion.

My mom needs to do that when we hail our own cabs. She usually brings something for me to sit on so I won’t get fur on the seats. She doesn’t argue: if they won’t take us, she’ll get another cab. I prefer the bus, myself. Some drivers welcome me and I love being the center of attention.

Dog sleeping

After a day of getting a bath, playing in the dog lounge and then catching up with my dog park friends, I was exhausted. Cathy wants me to sleep on my cushion but I’m too tired to care. Here I am dreaming about springtime in Seattle.

Urban Dog Gets Bath, Pedicure

Yesterday Cathy dropped me off at the Dog Lounge for a bath. downtown dog lounge seattle

Thank goodness…I was beginning to feel itchy.

Don’t tell anyone but I go to the groomer more than she goes to the hairdresser. “More bang for the buck,” my mom says. “Gracie looks gorgeous after her grooming session. I look…marginally improved.”

I’m not saying a word and if I were you, I wouldn’t either.

Here I am right after my bath with Terri, the trainer who’s trying to teach me some manners. When she says “No,” I listen. If she weren’t so nice…

dog trainer with gracie

And here’s Summer, who gave me my wonderful bath, trying to figure out what to charge Cathy. I should get a discount because I’m such a good advertisement for the place.

I suspect the staff thinks Cathy should pay a surcharge. When she picks me up, she asks a dozen times, “How was Gracie? Was she a good dog? Everything okay? Did she get to exercise? Will she be good and tired when we get home?”

My mom needs to get a life. But at least she makes sure I have a good one.

Yes…I have to ride naked.

My mom, Cathy, doesn’t mind spending money on me. She’ a very generous owner. I get trips to the dog park and outings with my Aunt Sara. I eat high quality dog food (when my tummy isn’t doing the tango…otherwise I have to eat yukky rice). I have a kind vet who keeps reminding Cathy that I’m a great dog. And the folks at the Downtown Dog Lounge adore me. They use me for temperament testing when a new dog comes.

As soon as the weather gets just the least bit chilly, all the dogs in the park start dressing up. They have little coats and sweaters. They look so cute! One dog at the Lounge wears pink with ruffles, to match his mom’s color scheme. Adorable.

But do I have a coat? Ha.

During my first winter with Cathy, we had some really cold days. Brr! So my mom called the vet.

“Does Gracie really need a coat?”

“Is she shivering? Does she seem comfortable? Then it’s optional.”

“Good,” my mom said. “I can’t imagine stuffing her into a sweater every time we go out.”

So I’m the only naked dog you’ll see on the bus.

It’s hard to argue. Cathy is not exactly into fashion herself. Her idea of dressing up is wearing her best pair of shorts (in summer) or her favorite sweats (winter). And on really special occasions, she’ll break out a new pair of running shoes.

The good news is: We live near a wonderful clothing store, Peridot. The young women who work there are dog-friendly. I always say hello to the resident dog, Scout. And they save Cathy’s butt when she has to look presentable. Last week she had to give a presentation and they sold her a coat dress (do I have to say it was on sale?) and told her how to accessorize it. Here she is, looking about as presentable as she gets. Cathy Goodwin Speaking on Copywriting and Networking

Meeting the dog (and cat) expert

Arf! Gracie here.

My mom Cathy finally did something sensible. She went to an author reading at Elliott Bay Bookstore where she heard a talk by Arden Moore, a cat and dog behavior specialist. The event featured Arden’s cat book but Arden talked about dogs too.

Arden even blogged about my mom Cathy and my roommate Tiger:
http://www.ardenmoore.com/arden-moores-blog/arden-moores-blog.html#ardens-blog

Actually Tiger is a grump. You know what they call female dogs? That’s what somebody should call Tiger. That cat sleeps on a special cushion on my mom’s bed. She’s 18 and still jumps up on the counter to eat her dinner.

Then there’s my other feline roommate, Creampuff, whose name accurately describe the consistency of her brain.

My mom adores them. They were here first.

The best part of the day was I got to spend 4 hours in the Downtown Dog Lounge on Bell Street, hanging out with my favorite dogs. The worst was when my mom came to pick me up. I could tell she had been listening to a dog trainer. She had that gleam in her eye that said, “We mean business.”

“Gracie, sit!” she said firmly when a motorcycle went by. Ditto for a skateboard.

Sigh.