Tag: dog’s life

Dog’s Life Gets Complicated By Endings and Beginnings

My mom was feeling a little sad yesterday because the Queen Anne Farmers Market is closing. Sure, we have Pike Place Market all year round, but the QA market is small and special. She’s got all her favorite vendors and she came home loaded with green leafy stuff.

She’s also got that gleam in her eye that says, “Back to my special diet!” I knew something was up because yesterday we walked all the way to the top of Queen Anne hill. “No bus for us, Gracie,” Mom said firmly. “We need the exercise.”

As usual, when Mom needs exercise, the dog has to go along. Even if the dog is tired and hardly in need of more exercise.

Alas, I didn’t get to go to the Farmers Market. I remained home in my crate. See, mom has taken up a new hobby.  As with all her interests, she dives in with lots of enthusiasm and little expertise. She goes to class Monday night. Then on Thursdays and Saturdays, she goes to the studio to practice. She’s determined to master the basics of throwing this term.

The truth is, my mom has less talent than just about anybody when it comes to pottery. She studied a year in Philadelphia and a year in New Mexico. She makes oddly shaped pots and passes them off as “original.” Her friends have to struggle to keep a straight face when she shares her misguided creations.

The good part is, it keeps my mom out of trouble. And she feels so guilty about leaving me that we get extra dog park time.  Life could be worse.

P.S. My mom says she wants more comments on this blog. Please say something! Just click on “comments below.”

A Dog’s View of the Michael Vick Animal Rescue Campaign

My mom read me this story about Michael Vick, the football player who went to prison for torturing and killing dogs.

An animal rescue group had planned to put up posters protesting Michael Vick’s presence back on the field. But then they had a better idea: donate 3 bags of dog food to a shelter every time Vick gets tackled.

Wow..every so often humans get it right. Michael Vick will always be associated with his anti-dog actions and yet dozens of homeless dogs will benefit from the donation.

We dogs are not big on revenge, although my mom tells me Garth Stein’s Book, The Art of Racing In The Rain, does have a particularly steamy example. We are, however, big on dog food, although I am currently skipping breakfast because my mom figured out I snuck off the bed and polished off the cat food last night. Can I help it if I look smug when she finds me on the floor, instead of my usual spot on her bed?

:”Keep this up, Gracie and you’ll be sleeping in your crate,” she says.

Go ahead mom. I love my crate, especially when I get a yummy kong toy with peanut butter. Maybe Michael Vick can donate a million of so to dog treats? That’s as worthy a cause as you’ll find anywhere.

Basketball Keeps Mom Out Of Trouble

Earlier this evening my mom put aside her HUGE “To Do” list and headed over to Key Arena for the last home game of the season. “It’s going to be a dreary blowout,” she muttered as she gathered up the things she always takes to a game.

My mom’s friend Bill in New York is her sports advisor as well as her dog advisor. Bill has watched sports and owned dogs all his life. Earlier that day Mom had complained, “With three of five starters missing, this game will be a disaster.”

Bill said, “Now you never know. There can always be an upset. Someone could step up. The other team could have a bad day.”

“Yeah, yeah,” my mom said. She’s like me. She tunes out.

So mom got her game bag together. Her ticket. Her binoculars. Her highly lllegal snack. (She claims the arena has greasy, overpriced food. The security staff go through everyone’s handbag. They pretend to be looking for concealed weapons. They are actually looking for concealed sandwiches.) Her paperback book in case she gets bored and wants to read (yeah, right). Her credit card so she can stop in Metropolitan Market on the way home, without disturbing my nap. And let’s not forget…my mom’s Seattle Storm fan t-shirt and Seattle Storm fan dorky hat.

While all this is going on, I’m settling in my crate. We just got back from the Farmers’ Market so I’m tired enough to nap and wish Mom luck.

Something To Look Forward To…Not

Mom was on the phone with the vet yesterday. I could tell because I heard my name and as a dog, I get these intuitive flashes about what’s really going on. And it’s not good news. Next week I am supposed to go get my teeth cleaned.

“If your teeth go bad you could get a kidney infection or worse,” my mom said, frowning at me. “And Malari thinks you’ll need anesthesia. And maybe blood tests.”

Anesthesia? No problem. That’s like a big nap, right? But then my mom said, “So Gracie can’t eat or drink after 10 PM? No water? No food?”

Uh oh. Now I’m paying attention.

“Well, I will have to put her in her crate the night before so she won’t have a chance to get into the cat food. I’ll clean up all the crumbs.”

Oh no. My tummy will be making growling noises.

“And Gracie’s dog sitter will come pick her up.” Now finally we get some good news. I adore my Aunt Sara. I’ll have to miss my trip to Magnuson but at least I’ll get to say hello. “Gracie won’t be in shape to go on the bus and some of those cab drivers are a little snippy about dogs,” my mom said. “And she’ll feel better in a familiar car.”

I’ll feel a LOT better when it’s all over and I am back home in front of my bowl of crunchies. I should be grateful I have an owner who gives me vet care but somehow…

Dog Mom Feels VERY Old Today…

This morning my mom took me out for our usual morning walk around 7 AM. Labor Day? Who cares. I need my walk.

On our way out she stopped to talk with a new neighbor and her boyfriend. They were enjoying a smoke break. (Our building is dog-friendly, no-smoking. Just the way I like it.) My mom was telling them she works at home.

“But wouldn’t you rather just retire and do nothing?”

Good grief. My mom was shaken up. “I need to start wearing more makeup,” she said, as we headed around the corner. “It’s SO depressing to have a young body and more or less young mind and get treated like an old lady…”

My mom thinks she has an old mind because she doesn’t know any of the new music. She hates it. She has spent a lifetime listening to classical country and classical concert music. Period. She tries to like jazz. She just discovered Queen song “We Will Rock You” at the WNBA game. People kept a straight face when she asked, “Where did that come from? Oh, the 70s? I was still on George Jones back then…”

True, my mom wore her yucky old sweats because it seemed chilly. I sense a new wardrobe and hairstyle may be coming. My mom needs to remember that to a young person, everybody looks old. She claims you can get senior passes at movies starting in your 40s because the teenagers at the box office can’t tell 40 from 60.

Meanwhile, my mom plans to spend the whole day in hiding. Me too…unless we get a dog park break. Nobody at the dog park is into fashion. I don’t even wear my new bandanna.

Dog Gets Bath Followed By Treats

On Saturday night I was totally zonked. Friday of course I went to Magnuson with my Aunt Sara. Saturday mom took me for a walk and I got to run a little in the local dog park. So when bedtime rolled around, I was stretched out on Mom’s bed, ready for a snuggle. I didn’t move the whole night.

“Gracie, if you’re going to sleep up here, you will need a bath,” Mom said on Sunday morning. “Whew! You smell like a dog.”

Like, duh. What am I supposed to say? Cats smell like cats and…

So Sunday morning we headed over to the Downtown Dog Lounge on Elliott. Mom was cursing the day DDL lost their lease in Belltown. “This is SO inconvenient,” she muttered. Nevertheless, she dropped me off. On Sunday baths are half price. I told you Mom is cheap.

Mom caught a ride from the gym so she was here early to pick me up. Just before I went home, the staff gave me a beautiful bandana and a treat. I could do without the bandana but DDL has the best treats. My mom’s camera caught two staff members fussing over me, paying the homage due a true Canine Urban Princess.

Accepting a treat in the Dog Park

Lindsay, who was Dog Park Steward until recently, is exempt from the “No Treats” ban imposed by my mom. Lindsay likes to sit on the wall surrounded by a bunch of dogs. That’s her big black lab, Jasper, on the right. Jasper is an official service dog. He’s all trained and he looks awfully impressive when he’s wearing his tags.

Hmm…have you noticed a pattern to the recent pictures in this blog? All about treats. Is my mom trying to tell me something?

Why some people do not deserve to be dog owners

My mom Cathy woke me up from my nap today. “Look what I just read in an Examiner column,” she yelled, pointing to her laptop. I refused to budge so she told me what she read. And then I see why she got so mad.

You can read the whole thing for yourself, right here.

Accoding to my mom, some Examiner.com columnist praised the best Craiglist Ad of the Week. The  ad was headlined: “Wanted: Someone To Make My Kids Cry.” Here’s the story:

A single dad was looking for an actor to pretend to be a dog walker. The dad had found a new home for the dog which was a “terror” who couldn’t be trained. This actor would take their cocker spaniel for a walk and return, pretending the dog had run away. In fact the dog would supposedly go to a new home. The actor would be there when the kids started crying. The actor would be pad $500 for about two hours of work.

Can you believe this? A cocker spaniel who’s terrorizing the family?

I’m a dog and I can tell this whole thing is sick. No wonder nice dogs like me end up in rescue.

Here’s what my mom wrote as a comment:

  • Sorry, I don’t think this ad is funny. If the dad would invest the $500 in a dog trainer, the kids would have their dog and no reason to cry. Has the dog been tested for health problems? Was it abused? If the kids grow up into terrors (not surprising, with this parenting) will he give them away too?

Dog and owner on beach

My mom wanted a picture with the water. So as we were leaving, she got Jake to take a picture of her with Scott, the club president. Scott looks happy because he’s getting married in a couple of weeks. My mom looks a little uptight because she’s within a mile of a camera. Even though she wanted this picture, she told me, “I belong in the Guinness Book of World Records for Least Photogenic Person on the Planet.”

I don’t know what she’s talking about. Guinness? Records? Planet? But I do know she was never born to be a model.

I, on the other hand…

Downtown Dog Lounge: Hangin’ Out

Mom left me at the Downtown Dog Lounge on Sunday while she swent to work out. While she was gone, my good buddy Sue took this picture. Mom fixed it up a little in Photoshop.

Yep, that’s me. Hangin’ out with my buddies. I look like I’ve just had a couple of beers and am waiting for my Designated Driver Mom to come take me home.