Tag: dog’s life

Brrr!!! Winter in Seattle has come too early this year.

My mom and I are bummed. Cathy wanted to take me for a good, long walk today. “I’m going out this evening,” she said last night. “So we’d better give you some exercise.”

Then we woke up to a cold, rainy morning. I hurried through out early “do your business” walk and my mom hustled me back home. “No strolling around today,” she said firmly. “Too bad the Dog Lounge had to close the Belltown location. You’d spend a few happy hours there.”

Yeah, I agree with that one. I miss seeing Summer, Cynthia and my other good buddies every week. It’s just too far to get to the new locations. My mom says she doesn’t know any other dog lounges that are convenient and anyway, she’s loyal to the Dog Lounge. So am I.

The really good news, she said, is our ceiling seems to have stopped leaking. The management company actually fixed it! That means we can move my crate back to where it belongs.

“Let’s just be sure,” my mom said. “I don’t want to leave you in your crate with water dripping like a torture chamber.”

Good thinking, Mom. I mostly like my crate. It’s cozy and the cats leave me alone. Let’s keep it that way.

Dog Owner at Internet Marketing Conference

My mom admires Connie Green, an Internet empire builder. So when Connie organized a pre-conference get-together, Mom flew in to join them. She left on a 6 AM flight and arrived on time in Las Vegas.

The group posed for a photo. Connie’s in back, wearing pink, with a big warm smile. Mom’s the one on the far right, wearing a hat. She’s crouching down just a little so people can see the folks behind her. Nobody dresses up because they all work from home on the Internet .Some of them don’t even have suits anymore.

“Do I look OK, Gracie?” she asked, showing me the photo. “Not too old or too fat?”

What do I know? I am a dog, remember? I think she looks fabulous when she’s got a hand out to give me my treats.

Back to work (sigh…)

My mom went out of town last week and I got to spend 5 days in the Downtown Dog Lounge. Yaay! It was like a vacation. I played with my Big Sister Summer and got a nice spa treatment on Sunday: bath, mani and pedi. They even did my ears.

Aunt Sara picked me up on Monday because Mom doesn’t have a car. When Sara dropped me off, she said, “Gracie needs a new leash and collar.”

Finally!

“I was going to give her a Christmas gift,” my mom said.

“Nope. You need it now,” said Aunt Sara.

My mom is well-intentioned but a little clueless sometimes. What happened to my birthday?”

But I knew I was back at work this evening. Mom was feeling a little tired. “With all the flu going around,” she said, “I am not taking any chances.” She headed off to bed and pressed me into service as a heating pad.

“It’s cold out there,” she said.

Other people would turn the heat up. Not my mom. She’s into ecology and healthy living. She opens the window, piles on the quilts and grabs her dog. If dogs had a union, we would modify the contract. Dogs go on walks. They don’t do heating pads. I should get overtime pay.

Smart Dogs? Hah. I could do that.

The New York Times ran a story today about a Labradoodle who serves as combination service dog and psychiatric aide. They said the Veterans Admin will spend $300 to study the impact of service dogs.

Save your money, Dogs are natural psychiatrists. I personally keep my owner, Cathy Goodwin, sane and motivated. Without me, who knows how she’d spend her time? Would she get out of the house and do things if she didn’t have to walk me? Would she go to bed early if I weren’t waiting for her?

I am a natural social worker. I go up to strangers on buses. I snuggle up to strangers sitting on benches on the street. People pat me when they want a dog fix.

And while I may be a princess, I’m not a high-priced breed by any means. The government can save its money. There are dozens of wonderful mutts like me. If I can keep my owner in line, any dog can do anything.

Dog Judged on Circumstantial Evidence (“Blame The Cat,” She Says)

This morning my mom was awakened when I bumped into her bed. I was trying to jump up and return to my assigned cushion without waking her. After all, I got down, didn’t I?

So my mom gets up, suspicious from the get-go.

“Gracie, you’re off the bed. The cat food dishes are empty. Totally clean! The cats never finish every crumb of their food. So Gracie, I conclude that you were eating cat food! Now I can’t give you breakfast. You’ll get sick from overeating.”

Come on, Mom. You’re a softie when it comes to human justice. You don’t believe in convicting criminals based on circumstantial evidence. So why me?

Mom’s always saying the justice system picks one suspect and ignores other possibles. Well, let’s consider Ophelia as the Prime Suspect. Ophelia’s been getting MUCH larger. She eats fast and furiously. She looks like a plate-cleaner to me. And who knows? Maybe I just thought you were ready to wake up and leapt off the bed two seconds before you woke up.

“Forget it, Gracie,” Mom said. “The only consequence to you is a very slight cutback on your rations. Everybody’s been commenting that you look bigger, too.”

Busted…or falsely accused. What do YOU readers think?

Dog plans low-key birthday celebration

Today is my seventh birthday. My mom almost forgot: she’s got two teleseminars to deliver today plus she’s going out this evening. So we aren’t doing anything much to celebrate.

Besides, my mom said, “you’re going off to board at the Downtown Dog Lounge while I go out of town. You’ll be there 5 days. That’s plenty of time to celebrate with your buddies.”

And tomorrow I get to go to Magnuson Park with my Aunt Sara, just like every Friday.

Hey…I just figured it out. A city dog’s life means every day is like a birthday.

Turning seven isn’t a big deal. My mom thinks I’ve slowed down a little since she adopted me, almost four years ago.

“Thank goodness!” she says. “You aren’t chewing as much. And I don’t get all worn out trying to keep up.”

Earth to mom. When I was first adopted, I didn’t get twice a week excursions to Magnuson with my Aunt Sara. So of course I needed more exercise. Anyway, getting adopted can be very stressful for a dog, even someone as flexible as I am. Back then we had Tiger the cat, who totally ran the household. I had never seen a bus, let alone been a passenger.

“Graice, you’ve been with me longer than you’ve been wherever you were before,” my mom says. “You should totally have forgotten your pre-adoption life.”

Pre-adoption? What’s that? I can’t imagine life without my mom. Even that fat cat Ophelia has become part of my family. And I think I was born to be a CUPPIE.

Carry on, world. Being seven is pretty awesome.

Well, see where I rate in this household!

Our ceiling is leaking. It was leaking last winter. Mom reported it promptly. Then last week it REALLY came gushing down. The leak is just over the top of my crate in our living room.

“Luckily nothing valuable was harmed,” Mom told the building manager. “Gracie’s crate got wet. We had to move it because I can’t leave her in a crate with rain coming down and maybe getting inside.”

Yeah right. Now my crate is jammed up against a bookcase. I don’t have a view of the whole room. I get claustrophobia in there. And it’s farther from my window. And it’s my crate, for heaven’s sake. The most important piece of furniture we own.

No sympathy from Mom.

“It’s just for a little while,” she says. “You spend less time in your crate than most dogs. And let’s face it: you live a great life. We just went to the dog park yesterday. I have videos to prove it.”

Mom did have a moment of fantasy. Maybe we’ll move to Belltown.

But we won’t go unless we absolutely have to. I know my mom. She loves being near Metropolitan Market. We’re close to her pottery class. We have about 10 bus lines within a few blocks.

True, we’d like to be closer to her exercise class and one of the Downtown Dog Lounge locations. We could be closer to a dog park. But then we’d be farther from these other places. Belltown doesn’t have a decent place to buy food. There’s a great pet store but we get our dog and cat food delivered. Mom says she can’t carry those 25-pound bags any more.

Luckily they’re coming to look at our ceiling today. I’m keeping my paws crossed for a speedy resolution.

City Dog and Dog Owner Enjoy a Seattle Moment

Mom says people want some pictures of her, not just me. But usually it’s just the two of us, and I don’t have fingers, let alone opposable thumbs. Besides, I’m a lot more photogenic than my mom.

On Wednesday my mom announced that we were going to walk up to Queen Anne. Going up is a LOT harder than going down. On the way back, my mom was so thrilled with the view she insisted we walk over and take a look. Personally, I could care less about views. I’d rather dig for something more interesting, which my mom won’t allow me to mention in this blog.

We saw some tourists taking pictures. My mom said, “If I take a picture of your family all together, can you get a picture of us?”

They said, “Sure.” Mom struck a pose and I’m looking at her, like, “What is going on here?”

It turned out they were a couple visiting their son, who is studying at University of Washington. My mom likes to give people information about Seattle because it makes her feel like an old-timer. Well, we have our fourth anniversary coming up. You’re not a newcomer, Mom. But it’s kind of cute when you play tourist.

My mom wants me to add that she hadn’t planned to have her picture taken, so she was wearing her old shorts and sweatshirt. Luckily she got her hair cut so she looks a little ore together than usual.

Please write a comment to reassure my mom that she doesn’t look as awful as she thinks. Tell her she doesn’t look old, even if you have to lie.

Great video about a therapy dog

My mom found this video through a message on Twitter. It’s called Moments with Baxter.

Baxter is a chow-retriever mix. He’s a great therapy dog.

My mom wants me to be a therapy dog. The video says you have to be patient and sensitive. I’m sensitive. Patient? We’re not sure. My mom is a little worried because I don’t like to walk on shiny linoleum floors. When we go to a place with shiny floors, she has to pull me along. It’s embarrassing for her. I’m too nervous to care.

Dog’s job description keeps getting longer and longer

The relationship was growing cold. So was the weather. And the couple was experiencing all sorts of personal and financial pressures.

So what should they do?

Get a dog, of course.

Have you noticed that we dogs are taking on larger roles in people’s lives every day? Just in my humble home I am expected to be a

personal trainer (“My dog forces me to get out and walk…”)

heating pad when it’s cold (I’ve blogged about this before and may be able to delegate this chore to Ophelia)

social facilitator (my mom gets into interesting conversations because of me)

vacuum cleaner (I catch all the crumbs in the kitchen and when I’m lucky, a few cat crunchies that spilled over)

source of entertainment (“she’s SO cute when she does that…”)

and a whole lot more, as my copywriting mom likes to say. Lisa Scottoline, one of my mom’s favorite mystery writers, even wrote a book with a title that should make any dog sit up and take notice: Why My Third Husband Will Be A Dog.

Now dogs are being pressed into duty as marriage counselors and relationship rescuers. Gimme a break.

I feel like an employee of a company whose job description keeps getting longer and longer,  witih no extra compensation. I certainly haven’t noticed any increase in crunchies and treats.

Then again, my mom is like those bosses who say, “You’re lucky to have a job.” Just this morning, she was musing, “Gracie, if I didn’t have a dog, I’d have a LOT more money and a LOT more free time. But I wouldn’t have these other things.”

Somehow I don’t think this is the time to discuss creating a doggie union.

P.S. Please leave a comment! My mom says she’ll let me blog as long as we keep hearing from our readers.