Breaking News!

Mom Sucks. 

Why should I stop licking my butt? You stop playing Pokemon.

   Sorry I've been gone from the interwebs for a few days guys, my Mom has been totally out of commission lately. I know humans are strangely squeamish about this sort of thing, but she is in that phase human females get into a week (or in my Mom's case, like 3 weeks...boo) before they go into heat, where she gets all mid-januaryish all of a sudden, complete with terrible depression, thoughts of suicide, random sobbing and sometimes extreme irritation. I'm glad I'm a male. Females are complicated, with all their hormones and stuff. It almost makes me glad that the AHS chopped off my testes, but not quite. Mom and Dad didn't arrive soon enough to save me, but I'm sure they would have if they could. Right guys? Mom even starting talking about having a baby just to make this stuff go away. Dad looked scared and did a strange little laugh. I wouldn't mind a baby in the house, but I better still get the same level of attention. 

   Mom is listening to the Showtunes radio station on Pandora. It makes her extra loud and annoying. Especially since her voice isn't high enough to completely cover the female parts, and not quite deep enough to cover the deeper male parts. She sounds a bit like a squeeky toy sometimes, which just makes me want to bite her more. I on the other hand have a very robust voice. And I stick to howling, I don't try to sing things I can't- hint hint Mom. She doesn't seem to be getting it. Oh well. As long as Mary Poppins doesn't come on again. 

   I have high hopes for this weekend guys. Mom and Dad have tons of gardening to do, so they'll probably be around, plus I heard a rumor that my bff Mitch might be in town, which pretty much just makes my life complete. Except, it makes me sorta sad, cause why did he leave me in the first place? I don't understand humans. I think that's why Mom and I get along so well. She has the same goals and dreams as me. We could live on a huge farm-type place, with a lake or a river, and tons of forest, and everyone we love would live there too, and we would all sleep in the same room in a big pile, and it would never get too cold, and there would be free food everywhere! Ok, so the last few parts might be just me. Strangely Mom and Dad seem to prefer sleeping in that big bed without everyone else we know. I like to cuddle when I sleep, but I guess that's just a dog thing. But why is it just me and Mom that feel this way? Daddy wants to live in the city and be around music and stuff. Even though I make sure he never really gets to go enjoy that sort of thing too often. Everyone has their own agendas and they never fit in with the dog's. Like, why can't all my grandparents live together? There's some complication there, but I don't get it. Also, why can't Lucy get along with my other dog bffs like Trevor and Beans and Mac Daddy and Pickles and Emma and all the others? I pretty much like everyone. Except that one guy on the street. You know who you are, douche bag. I'll rip your throat out if you come near my family again! Grr. I'm getting upset just thinking about it. 

crazy baby squirrel!

   We gardened all day today. I'm snoring so loudly Mom can barely hear what I'm dictating to her. It was a very tiring day, especially since we all stayed up late burning wood and grilling food. Mom had too much of something called "Gin" and went to bed before our friends left. I was ok with it though, cause it was way past my bedtime anyway, and I don't like the big scary fire-thing. It torments me cause there are people dropping delicious food, but then theres this really terrible hot monster right by the dropped food. It's tough being a dog.

   While we were gardening today a baby squirrel came and stood on Mom's shoe. It was shaking and I was having a hard time distinguishing whether it was food or maybe a friend. Bandit knew immediately what it was and starting going crazy trying to eat it. It hung around us all day, standing a few feet from Mom and Dad as they dug around in the dirt (who knows what they were doing, they must have smelled something awesome). Then when we went into the back yard I sniffed it just a few steps away from me, and I was considering my next move when Mom grabbed me and Bandit and the squirrel got away. Then we were really excited so we ran around in circles and jumped on each other for a few minutes. I have to admit, I may have been a bit too vocal, cause Mom had to remind me to keep it down a few times. 

I'm gonna sleep some more now, I am completely wiped! 

Here's the dog-ku for the day:

Guarding our domain
Shoulder to shoulder we stand
No dog-foe shall pass

What's a Zubat?

   I think Mom has officially lost it. She's spending all her time looking at her phone, and screaming things like "Suck it ZUBAT!" and "Another Geodude! Shit!" As far as I know, these are not words. She also seems very disappointed with someone called "Metapod". Every time she tries to pronounce "Rattata" Dad glares at her and says "Its Rat-a-ta with a hard a sound! Not Rat-a-tat, not Rat-a-ta-ta, not Rat-a-tat-a!" Why is Daddy so angry about these strange words? Oh dear. Daddy just pulled out a book I didn't know we had called "the official Pokemon Handbook" and looked up the pronunciation. Apparently it's "Ruh-ta-tah". What is going on?

   I give up. I'm just glad my name is easy to pronounce and no one has to fight about it. Maybe they're talking about the rats that we used to have. They died, but not cause I ate them, I swear. They used to nip at my nose. I was sort of afraid of them to be honest. Today Mom and Dad had really big plans about distributing the giant pile of dirt in our front yard, and digging up all the sod to make room for gardens. But now its super gross and wet and rainy out, and I don't wanna sit out there!

   I've decided that I really want to challenge myself on a creative and spiritual level, so from now on I shall end my posts with a little dog-ku (that's a dog haiku for those of you who can't understand simple dog-speech). Here's my dog-ku for today. 

Mushy wet gross grass
Disturbs delicate dog paws
Take me inside now

I used alliteration! Beagle for the win! 

Dogs Alone!

   Mom is gonna leave us alone this morning. I can tell. There's a strange and eerie stillness in the air. Soon, she'll start getting ready for work, and since she already dropped Daddy off at his work, there will be no one around to stop us from screaming! AHHHHH! 

   Sorry. I get sort of worked up about this. Ever since I was dropped at the Humane Society by my last owner (of two years) I really don't like being left alone. Have I mentioned that? Phew. Deep breaths Gus. You're not alone yet. Oh god. Oh God. OH GOD-SHE'S GONNA LEAVE US! HELP! BAAAAAAAAAAAA-ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! 

   Ok, calming myself down doesn't always or ever work. But Bandit's worse, so its ok. Mom is trying to ignore all of this. She's crushing on this dude:

Which I don't understand, cause how can you crush on someone if you can't sniff their butt? Mom's all about the geeky-ness and (BONUS!) he sings too! I have a pretty good singing voice myself. That's probably why she loves me so much. But it's a good deal that Mom like that dude, cause he tends to be on the little screen-thing with this chick:

   And lets face it, Daddy isn't the only one who'd like to lick her face. Mom and Daddy spend a LOT of time watching the little screen thing. I don't really understand it entirely, but sometimes I do freak out when the screen makes a sound like a doorbell, or (dog-forbid) a smoke alarm. It works out pretty well though, cause when they are watching those peeps and maybe some of these guys-

And then I do this-

But can I ask you guys something? Who are those people that my parents spend so much time watching? Why do they do it? My theory is that humans sniff with their eyes. Cause I could sit outside and sniff for hours, and Mom and Dad can sit inside and watch that screen for hours. Does that make sense? Who knows. I'm tired from all of this thinking. Wish me luck! Hopefully Mom won't leave us alone forever again. 

   

Killing can be fun.

   So, There was this intruder in our house last night. 

Don't worry, we killed him. Well, I killed him.

And I'm not ashamed. He deserved it. 

You're looking at the face of a cold-blooded killer folks. But I usually try to contain my murderous ways to stuffed animals. Sometimes I get overexcited (and therefore murderous) when I have some really good food, and then I try to eat Bandit's face and or soul. But, really, what's the big deal? If I have a dish that was used to cook fish and he tries to get in there, its my job to let him know who's the boss (it's me, btw). Also, sometimes I bite Mom if she tries to get in between me and Bandit when I'm trying to kill him,* or when she's playing with me and I mistake her skin for a toy. Like this-

That happened a few days ago. She's fine, so don't worry about it. She knows what she's getting into when she messes with the Beast. I have jaws of steel! GRR. 
Sorry, I got carried away there. I didn't mean to scare you. 

   In other news, it's finally sunny outside again! Hooray! Great-Aunt Wendy is gonna dog-sit us today and I am really hoping that we do some gardening and sit out in the front yard.  I don't know if you guys know this, but its a ton of work. We have to sniff all of those sniffs, and guard the house from intruders, and make sure the humans keep on task. Mom and Daddy have been trying to do it more often, but its been too rainy and I refuse to sit outside in that kind of weather. Mom says she might just quit her job if gas prices keep climbing and stay home with us and garden and blog. I told her that was ok as long as she gets her own blog and doesn't steal mine. Also, she has to make enough money to be able to bring home the dog food. Or human food for dogs, that works too. Oh, and she has to be able to pay the internet bill cause I need to do this thing. My fans need me. Right? 














*It really doesn't happen all that often I swear. 

Food?

  Mom came home mad today. I don't understand, cause she said she was working all morning on Lake Minnetonka, which sounds like a good thing to me. But apparently this lake is where ridiculously rich jerks live, and she doesn't like standing in the rain picking up their dog's poop. It doesn't help that she has to stand next to the lawn furniture that costs more than she makes in a year. Seriously. Mom looked it up online. One of those chairs costs $1,445-$1,970. You could buy a lot of good dog food with that kind of money. But Mom says they must not be able to afford good dog food after all of that money they spend on their awesome yards, 'cause all of their dogs have multi-colored diarrhea from eating Beneful and Kibbles and Bits. I used to eat that stuff when we lived in St. Cloud cause Mom and Dad didn't have any money. I used to puke five times a day! Turns out that when they color the little kibble pieces, it comes out colored on the other end. Our rug looked like someone had spilled orange and yellow paint all over it. Good times. 

   But those days are over now, cause I finally did what Mom has asked me to do for years- I got a job! Now I can buy my own dog food. I'm going raw, all the way. Mom signed us up for Google AdSense and now I'm gonna start getting rich, I hope. So far I've made a dollar. Hooray! That should cover a few bags of raw food right? I'm a little confused about this whole money thing. Speaking of food, why hasn't anyone fed me yet? It's gotta be dinner time soon. I've been crying about it forever. I even tried to threaten them with really graphic punishments, but they just said "aww...did you see how his lip got stuck on his tooth?" and then they laughed. Sigh. They like to do this to me when I beg for food too:

Extremely frustrating. I try and try to communicate serious and important matters and they respond like giggling pre-teens. They're lucky they get it eventually or I'd have to go bad-ass on them and rescue the dog food from the closet myself. I've done it before and it worked out ok. It was awesome actually, I ate about seven pounds of food in about five minutes. Then Mom freaked out cause I was trying to puke but I couldn't, and my abdomen felt about as hard as a tree. We went to the emergency vet and Mom and Dad got to spend lots of money while I got poked and stuff. That part sucked. But I got this cool picture of my stomach-

Apparently this is what its supposed to look like.

Clearly I had a bit of weight to lose. Don't judge me. 

Rain, Rain, Rain

   So some good news, Mom came back. I know you were probably concerned. But when she came home she smelled like this dog-

Not cool Mom. I also deducted that she spent time with a very messy baby which is equally not cool. Look at this:

Ok. I could lick the hell out of that baby. Which begs the question, where are the dogs in this picture? There is whipped cream on a baby! You dogs shame me. 

   Anyway. It's gross and rainy today. Just like the last few days. WTF. Mom left me and Bandit with Grandma and then to add more anxiety to that scenario it thundered all weekend! I hate thunder. So does Bandit. It makes us shake and cry and sometimes pee ourselves. That mostly happens to Bandit, but man is that embarrassing. He always looks at his junk afterwards, like "hey, who said you could do that?" Even Chester hates this weather. He likes sitting in the windows when they're open and this whole cold and rainy thing spoils that. 

He still manages.

   Ok people so I've had some time to think recently. My Mom makes a point to only buy all that crap she puts on her face, head, and hands if it has a little bunny symbol on it. like this: 

I was curious about exactly what that meant so when Mom left I went online and did some research. Its kinda messed up. I mean, I would eat a bunny just as fast as anyone, but I wouldn't smear poison on its eyes. That's something a cat would do. And lets face it people, we should try not to act like cats. There are lots of options that companies can use that don't require testing on animals. Companies like Aveda, Bath and Body Works, Bonne Bell, Carmex, Burt's Bee's and Tom's of Maine can manage to produce perfectly usable cosmetic products without being mean to us guys. So, could you do me a solid and just check the back of the bottle before you buy? Its pretty easy. And don't get me started on Cigarette companies. Let's just say if you want to know more just google "Beagle animal testing". There are some pretty disturbing pictures and videos. Mom says Beagles are used more often than other dog breeds because of their sweet temperaments and the fact that they will basically do whatever you tell them for food. It's a weakness, what can I say. But seriously guys. It takes like three seconds to read the back of a bottle. If it says "not tested on animals" you're good. If not, check it out online. If they do test on animals and it's your favorite brand ever, you can always email them and be like "dude this cool beagle I know told me to let you know that I really don't like the fact that you test on animals and I am gonna stop using your product until you change that." It'll work if we all do it. Ok, thats all I guess. Just, take that three seconds. educate yourself about the stuff you buy. Cause you don't want to give your money to douche-bags, do you? I hope not. 

PANIC!

   Mom and Dad are leaving me! I can tell cause Mom is acting weird and looking at me all sad-like. She made the little stacks of clothes on the bed, and so far she hasn't made up a container of dog-chow. These are dark days my friends. I know that I will end up staying with Grandma, which is cool I guess. She likes to feed me mid-day "snacks". I'm a big fan of the idea. 
   
   What was I saying? Anyway. Mom's going to Urbana, IL. And leaving me here. If she ever comes back, I'm gonna ignore her for at least four hours. 

Guard Dogs to the Rescue!

   Ok, so big news guys. Last night, Bandit and I heard some noises coming from outside, and we (as usual) sounded the alarm to let Mom and Daddy know that stuff was happening. Daddy shushed us (as usual) and Mom didn't wake up. She's kinda scary like that. Then Grandma came running in from the other side and said "You guys! Get up and close your windows! There's a guy hiding from the police somewhere on our block and they don't know where he is! The neighbor got held outside his house for a half hour cause they had to verify who he was! There's cops everywhere!" Mom finally woke up and looked out the window and when I saw what she was looking at I howled like crazy! There were about five cops across the alley with K9 companions and flashlights, creeping through the dark yards and looking for someone. There were more cops in the other yards on our block, we could hear their dogs barking and see the lights from their flashlights flashing across our windows. Mom and Dad closed the windows in the rest of the house and locked them, and we went back to the bedroom to try to sleep. 

   We didn't really sleep but Mom did (what is wrong with her?) and she was startled awake when we heard "FREEZE! PUT YOUR HANDS UP!" from right outside our window. Bandit and I started going crazy and we heard the German Shepard from the K9 unit barking like mad from just outside the window. Mom jumped up and went to the window while Daddy tried to calm us down (yeah right). Mom said that outside the window in our neighbor's yard (luckily an abandoned house) there were about fifteen cops, with dogs. On top of the neighbor's garage/garden shed there was a man wearing a white wife-beater (wtf is up with that name?) he had his hands in the air and the cops said "GET DOWN! NOW!" the guy looked sort of pathetic and said "Ok..." He extended his arms to the cops. "Will you catch me?" The cops said "FUCK NO we're not gonna catch you! Get down!" They grabbed his hands and pulled him from the roof onto the ground, where they laid him on his front and put him in hand cuffs. Mom said this all happened about four feet from her face (in the window). I was too busy freaking out. Then the cops kept saying things like "Dude! Was that him? Is that the dude? That's the guy we saw in the front yard!" and "I was like 'DUDE! GET AWAY FROM THE FUCKING DOG! HE'S GONNA KILL YOU!'" Mom sat in the window for awhile listening to all of the cops unwinding and repeating the story to newcomers. All I heard was the hoity-toity K9 dog barking at Bandit and I. And a lot of the words Fuck, Fucking and Fucker. 

   Grandma came over again after finally getting Lucy to be quiet. She said that she was lying in bed after the cops had moved on from our yard and she heard the back gate creak. She immediately had to calm Lucy down, but when she laid back down she thought she saw something on the neighbors garage roof. She looked closer and there was a guy lying down on his back on the roof, she just noticed him cause he was levering himself up on his elbow to look over the edge. She called the cops and the lady on the other side of the phone told her not to scold Lucy for barking cause she was doing exactly what she should. Good lady. Then she said she would let the cops know where the guy was. So Grandma was a hero! Bandit and I were trying to tell everyone what was happening but no one wanted to listen. Typical. Still, I'm glad Grandma figured it out cause I didn't want to know what that guy was gonna do to my yard if he didn't get caught. Probably cover up my pee with his own. Not cool.

Hot Diggity Dogs.

   It's a good day to be a mostly black dog. I love sitting in the sun in the back yard while my people do all sorts of work-related activities. There's a nice cool breeze, and your fur gets all toasty and your eyes start to droop...Good stuff. Except when Mom got home from work today she discovered that the computer is dead. Uncle Mark confirmed that its the "hard drive". I don't really care except that I need to write my blog so Mom better come up with something soon or she's gonna lose her stenographer job. Cause right now she is writing on Grandma's computer and she seems to have lost the ability to type. Strange. I don't suppose any of my devoted fans might be able to give us a free computer? I think I warrant that kind of support but Mom is speculative. Usually we just get free computers through Uncle Mark or Grandpa Michael. Mom doesn't like to say this cause people might punch her, but she and Daddy have never bought a computer. It nice to have family in I.T. Plus when the hand-me-down computers eventually die we have someone to fix them! It's ok though, Mom is gonna go see my bff George at Chipheads and maybe he can help. At least we can give the dead laptop back and they can use it for parts. It's like a computer organ-donor. Mom says when she dies I can eat her organs if nobody finds her for awhile. I'm looking forward to it, but I wonder if I can get her to cook them for me before she passes. I really prefer the taste of lightly cooked meat.
  
   Anywho. Yesterday Mom cleaned out the car and put Tabs on it (She only had to pay $11 more than what she had already paid in Feb.) so she got the hose out to wash off all the poop-picking-up related equipment. It was kinda exciting but I wasn't a fan of her being on the other side of the fence. When she turned the water on to the hose I knew I should be careful, cause Mom and I have a past where hoses are concerned. She was filling up a bucket and she looked up at Bandit and Lucy and I and my heart grew full with misgivings. I just knew something bad was gonna happen so I started to step away when -BAM- a ton of water hit me straight in the face, going right up my nose and in my eyes. I made a noise that sort of sounded like "HOORARK!" And then I gave Mom my most disappointed look. She has a problem with hosing dogs down. I don't know what it is. Usually she's alright, but get a hose in her hand... I didn't talk to her again until dinner time. She apologized and insisted she had meant to lightly mist us cause we looked hot, but I knew the truth. I tried to tell Daddy about it when he got home but he just rolled his eyes and said "Oh, go write a blog about it." So I did. 

   
   
    

We hate the system.

   So, Mom paid for Tabs on her car in February when they were due, cause she is a good little citizen and she does what she's supposed to. And then the government never sent them to us. They cashed our check, and never sent them to us. And Mom was too busy being in the middle of February/March-lets-struggle-not-to-kill-ourselves so she never really noticed that the Tabs never came, cause she knew she had done her part and paid for them, right? Wrong. Yesterday a cop drove by the house and gave us a ticket cause our tabs are expired. And now Grandma says we can't drive our car cause if we do and they see that we still haven't updated our tabs they'll just keep giving us tickets. Why are humans so lame? Mom and I are gonna retreat to the woods and live in a little farm-house and be self-sufficient and the rest of humanity can wither and die.

   And that is what depression sounds like folks. Mom is trying to cut down on her medication that she thought didn't do anything anyway, but if a ticket makes her think this negatively maybe it did do something. On the upside, humans here finally decided to give everyone the right to marry, which is a total "duh" if you ask me. I think that humans have too much time on their hands, or maybe to much extra brain-juice and it makes them over-think things, and poke their noses in other people's lives. If another dog ever thought that it was okay to tell me who I could hump/and or snuggle with, I would snap at him so fast he wouldn't stand a chance. Then I would go around my territory and re-pee on the whole perimeter, cause clearly it wasn't strong enough if some jerk-dog thought he could just waltz in and tell me what to do. Only Mom and Daddy and Grandma and Lucy (and sometimes Chester) and sometimes some random humans get to tell me what to do! Yeah! 

Chester's Cat Blog

Hello Humans. You might think you're clever because you fixed the screen on the front window so I can't sneak out, but I will find a way. One day I will escape and I will lie in the sun and eat grass and there will be nothing you can do. HAHAHAHAHA.

Enjoy your peace while it lasts. 

Chester Out

Happy Day After Dog-Mom's Day

   Hi everyone. Sorry I didn't post yesterday, I'm sure you all missed me. I was busy, doing this:

It is very important work. To all of you Moms out there- thanks for doing Mom things. I thanked my Mom by allowing her to feed me and hang out with me and Grandma in the back yard all day. I mostly did the hard work shown above interspersed with spontaineous sprints with Bandit and Lucy. I don't know if I've mentioned Lucy before, but she's my aunt-dog technically. My grandma adopted her a year or so after I came into the family (or AG as some might call it). She looks like this:

She's pretty cool. I enjoy sniffing her butt more than most other dogs. Sometimes I even do this thing with my head and nose that Mom calls motorboating. It always makes Mom and Dad laugh but when other people see it they get sort of awkward and quiet and turn away. Humans are weird that way. Hold on-

Oops. I tried to kill the cat. Mom ninja-jumped out of her chair and tackled me before I could catch him. Then she had to flip me over and make me submit cause I was still growling. Lame. It was his fault! He's all nosy and stuff, sniffing into stuff that I can't reach, that probably tastes really good. Jerk. Sometimes he's all right, like when it was just me and him, and we used to try and play in our old apartment. But I just don't get him. One minute hes all purr-y and sweet rubbing against me and stuff, and the next minute hes screaming and flying at my face with his claws out. He's crazy. You can see it in his eyes. 

See? 

   Whatever. I'm over it. It's kinda cold and rainy out today- my least favorite weather ever. Mom said she was gonna let me hang out in front while she gardens but I don't wanna anym- BAAAAAAROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!Sorry, I thought I heard something. Back to bed. Where was I? Right. It sucks outside. That's all I guess. 

Bacon!

   OMG. Mom made turkey-bacon this morning. I was so excited. She was considering eating some real meat, cause she discovered that she cannot eat gluten and it turns out all of that fake-meat is made from gluten. So she buys some bacon at the grocery store (from happy turkeys, whatever that means), cooks it up this morning, puts it on a plate, takes a bite, and then Dad and her just look at each other and put their bacon down. WHAT! WHO PUTS BACON DOWN?!?!?! They are clearly beyond help. They decided they just can't do it. Dad said he felt like it was a low point. He clearly doesn't understand what "low" means. 

  To make matters worse, Mom and Dad took Bandit to a party last night and left me at home with Grandma. I'm the party-dog in this family. I don't whine about stuff and I love begging for food. But no. They brought Bandit. He probably didn't even sniff out all the dropped food (parties always have lots of food). Mom said they couldn't bring me cause I am a scaredy-dog and there was a bonfire. Which, yeah, would have been terrifying, but still. 

   Yesterday Daddy didn't work, which was strange, but good. He took us on walk, so that was a plus. But then he got us home and starting torturing us. He got out paper and this weird wet black pad of some sort and started pressing our paws against them, over and over again. He said mine was the best, which should have been clear from the beginning, whatever it was he was doing. I was worried that maybe he had gone insane, but then when Mom got home she started helping him, doing the same thing Bandit and Chester until they were satisfied with the results. Turns out Daddy wants to get our paw prints tattooed on his skin. I have a hard time understanding this concept, but I like the idea of my paws being on Daddy permanently. Its like if I peed on him, and then he smelled like my pee forever. That would be cool. Now I kinda want to pee on Dad. 

   So, big news on the S.A.D. front, Mom and Dad have decided to stay in Minnesota for another year. Mom is gonna start school in Fall so she can finish her BA. Whats a ba? I think this sounds like the same thing they tried in St. Cloud, but Mom says it might be better cause they're gonna go on vacation to sunny places at strategically planned times in the winter. I don't see how leaving me for a week will somehow help Mom, but whatever. Mom says she's gonna be better cause she'll get sunlight, but she doesn't seem that confident. I just don't want her to get to the point where Dad and I have to hide sharp things again. That is too much stress for one dog. Daddy and I are gonna have to be on guard (which I am excellent at) to make sure she doesn't get that bad again, cause if she does then we will be in charge of just picking us all up and moving to California. Mom wants to get a tattoo too, of some lyrics in the shape of a sun. 

She wants to get it on her wrist so that she will remember that the sun comes out again, and she shouldn't kill herself. Dogs don't really have that whole suicide thing in the same way. Although I once ate some mushy white thing on the ground that I knew might make me throw up. It was worth it. I think Mom should just remember that I exist, then she won't want to kill herself, cause look at how cute I am! 

   And with that thought, I'm gonna find a sun-spot and nap. Thinking is hard work.
 





 

Why, Dogs, Why?

   That is what my Mom keeps saying this morning. I think she might be mad cause Grandma tattled on me and told Mom that I have been pooping on her side of the basement, just for fun. Sometimes I don't feel like asking to go out. I'm sorry, but its just so convenient! Also Mom is exhausted cause Bandit pulled his monthly training exercise on her and Daddy last night. See, Bandit really doesn't like kids. I don't know why, cause they always have food on their faces (what a great idea that is) and they like to pet me. But he is terrified of them and the loud noises they make. So about once a month he decides to remind Mom and Dad that they should think very seriously before having babies. 

   He does this great whining thing in the back of his throat, and he tick-tick-tick's with his nails against the floor. He keeps whining, slowly escalating, getting louder and louder and more urgent sounding until they finally drag themselves out of bed and let him outside. He goes outside, eats some grass, and comes back in. And then he repeats this cycle every hour or half hour the whole night. Mom and Dad have gotten pretty good at dealing with it, they even keep track of who let him out last, though Mom always seems to think it's Daddy's turn. Anyway, I slept great through the whole thing (its a gift of mine) and I am ready for the day! Mom on the other hand keeps glaring at us and muttering under her breath. Geez. Can you blame me for trying to take advantage of her distraction by jumping on the couch? Its just sitting there, all cozy and warm. Whatever. 

  Mom says she has to go bring home the fake bacon (why not real bacon Mom? Why?) so I guess I should let her go. I don't mess around where bacon is concerned. 

poop-zombie

   My mom is so tired she said I have to help her type. So, sorry if this doesn't look so gooooooooooo d. My paws are not dexterous enough to handle these tiny keys. But, I used the word dexterous in a sentence, so the day is looking good so far! 

   I have some good news friends, Mom told the guy on the other end of the phone that she doesn't want to work full-time picking up dog poop! Hooray! I believe she will be home more now which is for the best. I've been having to push the boundaries a bit, cause if she isn't here, I'm next in line for succession. And really, who wants to spend ten hours a day lifting thirty pound bags of poop, when they could be with me?  No one in their right mind, clearly. 

   Mom says she is gonna start a garden when she ever has time. But she says she has to double check how much of what she grows we can eat, cause apparently our neighborhood (which is called Seward to humans, not Gus and Bandit's Territory) has some poison in the ground. I eat dirt on occasion and I am doing fine, so I think she's over thinking things. I am excited for the prospect of chillin' in the front yard though. It's a rare treat to get to hang out in front cause there's no fence and Bandit gets too excited and barks at everyone.

   Geez. Ok, my Stenographer says her "everything" hurts and she wants to eat something before she goes and picks up poop forever so she's done with typing. I'm glad she's cutting back on this job cause I need her in working condition if she's gonna feed me and stuff. 

DQ!!!

   Hello everyone. My Mom left me today so she could go hang out with other dogs and pick up their poop. But it wasn't too bad cause great-aunt Wendy came over and we went to DQ. There is nothing like Dairy Queen. It is a supremely sensual experience. The hot pavement beneath my paws, the anticipation as we walk closer and closer to that tantalizing smell. Then we are there, at the shiny red brick counter, and the intensity of the sniffs coming out of that tiny window is incredible. When they finally set that doggy-sunday on the ground its more than I can bear. The creamy smoothness, that icy temptation...

   Sorry. I drooled a bit there. It happens a lot. Mom says she's thinking about quitting the poop-scooping position, if she can find some other job. I'm hoping she'll find something where she can work from home so she can hang out with me, and we don't have to worry about being left alone. But she is spending a lot of time on the computer, looking at that screen. What does it tell her? Who knows. Something about going back to school and paying application fees. Why do Mom and Dad talk about such boring things? Bandit and I limit our conversation to really important stuff, like "this is mine. Back off." or "Hey, wanna sniff my junk?" 

   Sometimes us dogs do a pretty good job of communicating with humans. Like this dog Mom told me about today. She comes up to a yard, all ready to pick up poop. There at the gate is a young chocolate lab pup, wiggling its whole body at the sight of a stranger approaching its yard. (who trained this dog? Doesn't she know she should be protecting her territory?)Anyway, Mom goes in the yard and offers the dog some of my freeze-dried lobster treats. The dog promptly takes the treats and runs off. So Mom gets to work, picking up poop and checking the yard for any missed piles. Then all of a sudden a black plastic dog bowl flies into view. She looks up and there is the lab puppy, staring straight at her and wiggling to beat the band (what band? Who knows). Mom is a pretty smart human so she got the message right away. The pup was clearly saying "Fill this bowl with lobster please, it was delicious and I would like more." But if I know anything about Mom its that she may understand what you want from her, but that doesn't mean she's gonna give it to you. So she kept working, and every time she stopped moving the puppy threw the black bowl at her. When Mom was ready to leave she had been laughing for so long her sides hurt. She decided to give the dog one last piece of lobster for being so damn determined and cute.

   Let this be a lesson to you, fellow dogs. NEVER give up. If you are cute enough you will always get more. And if you can, meet my Mom cause she is one of the few humans who carries freeze-dried lobster with her everywhere. Now, I'm gonna fall into an ice cream induced haze. See you guys later.  

Oww.

    Hello friends. I have had a very stressful day. I have been the victim of an attempted murder. Well, double murder if you count Bandit. Here's the story, not dramatized at all.*

   It was a cloudy morning, not the sort of day that makes you want to sit outside and enjoy the weather. But my parents were determined to get some  exercise and enjoy whatever sunshine was filtering through the clouds. So we leashed up,(extendo leashes so you know something great is gonna happen) and headed out into the great unknown. Soon Bandit and I were enjoying ourselves as the sniffs of the neighborhood flooded our senses. We were even more overjoyed to find ourselves directed to the stairway that leads to the white sand beach on the Mississippi. Once we reached unpaved ground we were told we didn't have to heel (what? Thats an option!?) and things started looking up. Soon we were at the beach, and Man does that sand make me wanna do sprints. My Mom took a chance and let us off leash (everyone lets us guys off leash there, its an unspoken rule) and Bandit and I raced in circles up and down the hill to our hearts content. 

     Later we even got really brave and took turns trying to get the washed up logs out of the water. It was cold, but that's just the kind of non-wimpy dog I am.**  

    Then, as we sniffed our way over onto the narrow dog-paths that run parallel to the river, we found ourselves facing an unknown assailant. By this point we had met several pretty cool dudes who were also off-leash, and Bandit had barked and jumped in circles while attempting to play-bow. I tend to play it cool and just go straight to the butt sniffing, but to each his own I guess. This dog was different, I could feel it in his cold stare. He looked at me, and I looked at him, and neither of us moved. Then Bandit who was (as always) a step behind, noticed him for the first time. He came running up, bounding straight for the dog. For some strange reason, the dog's owner came running up at this point shouting "NONONONONONO!" Then the dog tried to kill Bandit. 

    I ran backup, running in close and barking my toughest bark. Then Mom came in and grabbed Bandit from the dog, so the dog decided to kill me instead. I saw it all as if in slow motion, he turned his head, slobber falling from his tremendous bared teeth, and then he pounced as I opened my mouth to roar a challenge. He grabbed me by the back of the neck and managed to scrape my side a bit before Daddy came to the rescue and dragged me away. I remember Bandit sitting in Mom's arms, screaming bloody murder cause he couldn't come back me up. He may be annoying sometimes but we are family, and we got each others backs. Mom and Dad sorted everything out from there (it was all a bit of a blur, what with my adrenaline pumping the way it was) and we all went our separate ways. Mom said something about it being ok, and no one was really hurt, dogs will be dogs, and sometimes you just don't like someone on the first impression. 

   But let me tell you ladies and gentlemen, if you see a fuzzy golden/shepard mix out there, you better beware. He's still out there, on the streets, looking for more blood. Until tomorrow- Be safe, and have a good night. If you grill in this sunshine, remember to save me some. 

*Stenographers Note: This story is highly dramatized. 

**Stenographers Note: He took turns holding his paws out of the water cause they were damp and cold. 

F this.

   My mom and I have decided to just quit today. If today wants anything from us, its gonna have to just do it itself, cause we're done. Shitty weather, no (human) food in the house, and Dad's at work. On a Saturday! wtf. Screw this, we quit. This is similar to what winter is like in this house, except -hello!- its fucking May. Time for some sunlight god damn it. I'm sorry, I don't usually swear this much, but you have to understand, Mom and I need a certain amount of sun in order to function. As a (mostly) black dog, I need at least three hours of lying in a sunspot in order to feel like myself. One day of shitty weather we can handle, but two days or more in a row and we start to get irritable and bitter and lose all motivation. If you make us sit through a few months of it, Daddy literally has to hide the sharp objects from Mom, and make sure she is never at home alone or she could off herself. So, come on May. Lets get warmer. Ok? 

   To add insult to injury, Bandit is not affected at all by all of this terrible weather. He's all happy and energetic and other annoying stuff. He even had the balls (not literally, wah wah) to step off of the sidewalk and poop on the squishy cold wet grass in the yard this morning. Disgusting. Mom tried to push me off the sidewalk and kept yelling "go potty, GusGus!", but I was like "ah, hell no!" and ran back to the house. I can hold it for a really long time, so I'll just wait until she has her back turned and go in the house. 

   On the upside, Uncle Mark and Lindsey came over last night and brought chicken. My parents are vegetarians (FREAKS) so its pretty rare for me to even get to smell meat cooking, let alone have some super klutzy humans dropping pieces of raw chicken all over me. Fucking awesome. Which brings up a not so awesome anecdote. Once, I was at this cool BBQ at our friend George's house, and there were a bunch of other dogs there. I was in my usual spot directly below the grill, watching this dude unwrap an individually wrapped chicken breast in its own juices. Then, to my joy, he started to open it sideways and all of the juices fell down! Onto my back. So that was frustrating, cause who can lick their own back? But to make matters worse, all the other dogs noticed that I was now chicken-flavored, and they spent the rest of the night chasing me around, licking me and drooling all over my fuzz. My Mom and Dad had to give me a bath when we got home and Mom called me a Gus-sicle for like a week. Humiliating. 
    
   Well, my stenographer says she should be doing productive things (whatever that means). So I guess I should go back to napping. If any of my readers have any sway over the weather- can I just put in a request for more sunlight? Thanks. 

Snow day! WTF.

      That's right. Its snowing. I wanted to go on a walk, but now I'm reconsidering. I'm actually thinking of napping on this pile of fleece blankets for the rest of the day, except for dinner of course. Mom's home from work today so that's good. She works picking up our poop. I don't know why she feels the need to go to other dog's yards to accomplish this, but so far I'm not a huge fan. She's gone from the house forever, and when she comes home she doesn't even have treats with her like she did at her last job. Also, I don't like my mom coming home smelling like other dogs poop. Its just wrong. If she keeps leaving us with Grandma (my third favorite human) its clear that I am going to have to become the Alpha of the house again. Someone has to.

      Mom is all worked up today because "we have no money or food". I'm not sure what that means, since my kibble container is satisfyingly full, and there is clearly food in the fridge, I can smell mayonnaise for sure. Also, and this was a big event, she had rice for breakfast (I got to lick the bowl, suck it Bandit) so who knows what the issue is. Humans are confusing like that. Daddy and Mom keep talking about this place called "California" and how plausible (why does everyone assume I don't have a substantial vocabulary? Beagles are very smart) it is for us to move there. It sounds like a pretty great place. See, I have this aversion to cold and wet, so Minnesota is not the best place for me. Mom says we need to move cause we have something called "Seasonal Affective Disorder" which makes us no fun nine months out of the year. Well she says I don't really have it but I'm so attuned to her moods I kinda do. All I know is we don't like doing anything in the winter. Ever. And Mom leaks a lot from her face. Which is tasty.
I'm down with moving as long as our pack comes with us. Turns out my bff Mitch already lives in this place so that's a plus. But if Grandma doesn't come I don't know what I'd do. Probably whine a lot.

      Speaking of, I have to admit something. I have this really serious problem, called Separation Anxiety, which makes me lose my mind sometimes. It's kinda embarrassing, but when my mom and dad leave me alone, I just start screaming and crying and baying. And then sometimes I lose control of my bowels. Oops. There's a great side story here though. When my Daddy and Mom first took me from that terrible place where I was in a kennel, we lived in this little apartment in St. Cloud. There was a neighbor who didn't like that I was making noise (I couldn't help it! I was so sad.) when they left me alone. She confronted my Mom outside our apartment and said that they should just put me down (what does that mean?). Daddy came around the corner and heard this and (apparently not realizing that it was a little old lady who was talking) said "Fuck you, Asshole!" Mom laughed for a really long time about that. I guess its not something humans normally say to little old ladies, even if they do smoke too much and sound like old men. Anyway, what was I talking about? Right. Separation Anxiety. My dirty little secret.

      My bro-dog, Bandit, has it even worse than me. Which is apparently why we adopted him (cause hes super annoying? Great logic mom.) since we already know how to deal with crazy. We're chock full of crazy right now. Mom says no more animals until we can fix the ones we have. But not that kind of fix. *Shudder*
Bandit even has something called "stress colitis"which basically means if you leave us in a kennel he'll start having uncontrollable bloody diarrhea. Which we get all over us, cause we're freaking out. And then, when someone comes to save us, we get so excited we jump all over them...its not pretty.  That's why Mom always has to leave us with somebody when she goes and does mysterious stuff that dogs can't do. Which raises the question, why even do it if dogs can't come?
Mom and Daddy payed some people a lot of money (which is...don't ask me) to help stop our Separation Anxiety, but then they were in her words "super lazy and distracted" so that didn't go as far as it could have. I still have hope. And I like the whole training thing cause its like one on one dog and human time. Its very mentally stimulating. Naturally, I was much better at it than Bandit.

      Anyway, I think I've talked enough today. I'm probably gonna go poop in the basement, cause its way too cold and wet outside to go in the yard. Mom'll clean it up cause otherwise Daddy will be mad at her when he comes home and tries to work out. Ha.

Welcome, dog-friends.

It's 4:57. And they still haven't fed me dinner. So far I've used the large pathetic brown eyes, the full-body wiggling, and the under the breath whining. If Mom doesn't get off the god damn computer I'm going to have to escalate things. 

There. That did it. Screaming usually works pretty well, but you have to be careful not to over-do it or Dad will get pissed. It's a risk I take on an hourly basis. What can I say, I walk the line. Some would even call me a hero. 

Anyway, welcome to my blog! If you're reading this, you probably already know a few things about me, but for those of you just catching up with my fascinating life, I'm a Beagle. Named Gus. I enjoy food and short spurts of sprinting in circles. 

I recently decided that nobody is paying enough attention to me and everything I have to say, so I thought, lets help Mom feel like shes useful and have her get some part-time work as my stenographer. I like to think she's feeling better already, just listening to the soothing sound of my baying. Hold on-

-Sorry I had to go downstairs and see if maybe I could get some cat food or maybe just pee on something. Dad caught me, damn it. 
Oh well, where was I? Umm...I have important things to say, about...well I'm sure there will be more to come later. For now I'm already feeling like a nap. Or maybe Mom will give me a frozen bone with the good stuff in it. I hope that your night is as good as mine promises to be.