Tag: dog’s life

Rescue mutt turns sheep dog

Would you look at this? When Cathy adopted me, I figured we’d stay in our nice, clean city apartment. I’d sleep on the couch and rarely get my paws dirty. Okay, I go to Magnuson twice a week with my Aunt Sara. But we stay on the paths and on the beach.

Herding sheep: dont I look like a pro?
Herding sheep: don't I look like a pro?

But Summer from the Downtown Dog Lounge took me out for a day of sheep herding. We went to Ewetopia, a place that specializes in uniting dogs and sheep.  Summer took a whole set of pictures of me working sheep.. Although I am a Canine Urban Princess (CUPPIE), it seems I may have descended from some common shepherd dogs.

I don’t know what came over me when I saw those sheep. Don’t I look like I know what I’m doing?

Now my mom wants to go out there. Personally, I think I’m getting a little old for this herding. I slept for 3 days afterward. It’s tougher than it looks.

Rain…and more…

My mom isn’t handling the rain very well. She was going to take me to the Downtown Dog Lounge for a bath. After a busy Saturday of herding sheep and then a trip to Magnuson with my Aunt Sara, I could use one.

Mom said, “I’m not even going to the gym. I went yesterday anyway and I’m still feelilng the effects. This rain and cold make me sneeze.”

Don’t get a cold, Mom. You’ve got too much work to do. I’ll wait. After all, I’m exhausted.

Dog Obedience Demonstration (Urban Style)

My mom Cathy likes me to sit at the corner when we cross the street. Here we’re on our Big Walk and I’m demonstrating how obedient I can be.

Actually, that’s what my mom thinks I’m doing. In reality I’m looking proud and regal. I’m a proud pack member who’s guarding her owner. Nobody better mess with us.

From the back, I look a little bit like a retriever. What do you think?

Mom gets busy…

My mom has been busy all weekend, but she makes time for me to exercise. Yesterday we walked over a mile to a furniture store so she could buy a new bookcase. (She just gave away her old one on Craigslist. Too small, she said.)

“You need exercise,” she said. “I’m going out tonight.” And she did. She was off to the Symphony, humming the tune to the Idee Fixe of Berlioz’s Fantastique. (My mom is so proud of her new musical knowledge. She’s got a lot to learn, she says.)

Then today I played for two hours in the Dog Lounge with my best pal and adopted Big Sister, Summer. Summer wants to take Mom to the Ewetopia sheep-herding event next week.

Me? Herd sheep? My hair stands on end. I bet somewhere in my genes is a true sheep dog.

We’ll see. Mom says she’ll take off the time if we can work out the driving with Summer. I’m keeping my paws crossed. And very nice paws, too. Summer gave me a manicure. My mom says she’s long overdue for one herself.

“Just be glad I have so much work,” she said. “Somebody has to pay for your crunchies. And dog walks. And…” uh-oh, I know what’s coming… “your vet bills from eating JUNK.”

Time for a nap. And boy do I need one.

So I chewed up a toy: big deal!

This morning Mom noticed I was coughing and trying not to choke. At first she was worried.

But when I coughed up some cloth, she caught on. “Gracie, you are chewing up the toy you got as a birthday gift – the nice yellow bear you got from Summer. There’s a big hole in the bear’s paw. You’ve got cotton filling all over the floor.”

Me? I tried to look innocent. Mom took the toy away and gave me one of those toys that promise to be chew-proof. Boh-ring!

“From now on,” Mom said, “you stay where I can see you. You choose: sofa or dog bed.”

So I’m curled up tight on a corner of the sofa, instead of sprawled out on Mom’s nice big bed.  The dog bed is nice too, but it’s on the floor. We CUPPIEs don’t like to sit on floors. (A CUPPIE is a Canine Urban Princess. Haven’t you been reading this blog?)

“And if you ever leave the bed to eat cat food,” Mom said,  “you’re in the crate for the night.”

Yeah, yeah. Good thing you’re not a human mom. Your kids would be in therapy for life.

Don’t tell Mom, but the crate’s not so bad. I get a peanut butter kong to keep me company. Who needs anything else?

So I’m a mutt…who cares?

Yesterday my mom wanted to take some time for R&R after her gym class. So I spent almost the entire day at the Downtown Dog Lounge with my adopted big sister, Summer, and the other folks who adore me.

“She played in the pen,” they reported when Mom came to pick me up.

“Where does she get the energy?” Mom wondered. I’m not telling.

Then everybody fussed over me on the bus trip home.

“Beautiful dog.”

“So mellow.”

“My dog would never sit like that.”

Of course, my mom has to spoil everything. She likes to tell the world, “Gracie is a rescue mutt. She thinks she’s a princess. Princesses don’t ride on the floor, so she sits on my lap.”

Well, would you want to ride on the floor? Who knows what else has been there? And how would you like being called a mutt?

Actually, my mom Cathy doesn’t mind at all. She hates the idea of classifying people by nationality or ethnic group. “I’m a mutt myself,” she says. “I don’t know anything about my ancestors either.”

My mom is like me in other ways, too.  She resists training and she likes treats. But nobody’s ever, ever complimented her on being well-behaved.

I’m working on it…after my nap.

Dog and owner go shopping

My fashion-challenged mom shops with me at Peridot. My job is to tug my leash when we go past the store, so she’ll go in and look around. She’s getting inspired by all the new fashions.

Cathy is very proud of her parka, which she claims is at least 15 years old. She refuses to buy another winter coat.

Fortunately, she is looking into buying some new blue jeans, because she wants to show off her new body. If you’ve been following this blog, you know she went on a special diet and has been exercising 3 or 4 times a week at the gym. And we walk…and we walk. We’re both in great shape.

“Yes, maybe I could get more clothes,” she tells me. “But I have no place to wear them. I work at home and my only social events are held at the dog park. So I spend my clothing budget on you, your dog walker, your treats, and …oh yes, your vet bills when you eat junk.”

Time to change the subject. And now you see why I’m going naked. If Mom isn’t buying herself a new winter coat, you can bet I won’t get one either.

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.

Copywriting Tips My Mom Learned From Her Cats

My mom Cathy wrote a funny article about how the cats taught her to be a better copywriter. You can read the article here.

My favorite:

#1: Walk on the edge and take some risks.

These lazy good-for-nothings take no risks. Ophelia’s too fat to jump up on the counter to eat dinner, let alone walk on the edge. Of course my mom wrote this article when she still had Tiger, who was jumping around almost till the day she died.

#3: Expect to be appreciated.

Mom got this one wrong. “Dogs beg for attention,” she wrote. “Cats take it for granted.”

Ex-cuuuse me! Do I beg for anything that doesn’t promise food? I get all the attention I need without asking. And then some.

And #10: Who cares if someone hates you? There’s always another food dish around the corner.

All I can say is, don’t count on it. And the cats can give you all the copywriting tips. I’m the one who keeps you going when your schedule gets crazy and you need a little love…or a LOT of love.

And now I shall return to my nap. We had a beautiful day at the dog park, didn’t we? Who forced you out the door to enjoy this beautiful weather?

Next article, Mom: 10 tips on enjoying life I learned from my Canine Urban Princess – the world’s first CUPPIE.