tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-68346041830079248492024-03-05T15:55:42.533-08:00Bailey the Golden RetrieverI'm the best dog in the whole world! Just ask my mom!Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.comBlogger101125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-1798237575671602022011-05-01T19:50:00.000-07:002011-05-01T20:02:24.735-07:00It's my birthday!Today is my 12-year old birthday! It has been a really fun day.<br /><br /><br /><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqBQCrkJ5CEFzjlZfbvrq_c6wWJH0TJxXr_sv4BIoJxJywfOWOvWDp3o_wW0Vh6ZzZvYjM24ioDcX3HSYtZulXRd2jWvMVebyuTtobiuPSNKtwiqUgcbeNG3SzzW9MqH9VQS7weQG_D0w/s1600/2011+b-day.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 243px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5601946004725384850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqBQCrkJ5CEFzjlZfbvrq_c6wWJH0TJxXr_sv4BIoJxJywfOWOvWDp3o_wW0Vh6ZzZvYjM24ioDcX3HSYtZulXRd2jWvMVebyuTtobiuPSNKtwiqUgcbeNG3SzzW9MqH9VQS7weQG_D0w/s320/2011+b-day.jpg" /></a> </p><br /><p>Mom said I couldn't have a new birthday party hat today, because she spent too much money on this hat she wore to some dumb ole wedding a couple of days ago, and now I have to wear it so she can "get her money's worth out of it". </p><br /><p></p><br /><p>She thought she looked really pretty in it, until the press said it was ugly. I don't really think it is ugly, although it looks a little like the rose trellis in our backyard. So anyway, now it is my hat, and it pinches my head a little, so I'm gonna take it off soon and chew it up, like I do with all my hats. 'Cause you know <a href="http://bailey-the-goldenretriever.blogspot.com/2008/03/this-meeting-is-called-to-order.html">how I feel about dogs and hats</a>!</p><br /><p></p><br /><p>So, except for the hat, I have had the bestest birthday ever! Mom declared it a holiday, and said we would be staying home from work all day and lounging around, and that is what we did. And she opened all the windows, and I spent a long time barking at all the trespassers that walked by in front of our house. And I barked at a box, but in my defense, it was a really big box.</p><br /><p></p><br /><p>Oh, and I got a dumb ole rawhide chip.</p><br /><p></p><br /><p>The bestest part of my birthday was that all my <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/Augusta/Sweet-Freedom-Designs/111164605593162#!/pages/Bailey-the-Golden-Retriever/117686404938533">facebook</a> friends are celebrating with me!</p><br /><p></p><br /><p>See you later!</p>Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com24tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-45765843933818790802011-04-04T06:26:00.000-07:002011-04-04T08:28:43.209-07:00My weekendWell, some good stuff happened and some bad stuff happened, and some weird stuff happened! <br /><p>On Friday afternoon at work, Mom announced that she needed to vacuum, so she brought out the vacuum and plugged it in (Gumball is very scared of the vacuum!) and she started to vacuum, and then she stopped, and said that the vacuum wasn't sucking anything up.</p><br /><p>She checked the vacuum cleaner bag, and it was empty, and she had put it in the right way.</p><br /><p>Then she turned the vacuum cleaner upside down, and started inspecting the big spinning bar on the bottom of it, and she sat down with the upside-down vacuum and got some small scissors and started cutting, and kept talking about how there was some dog hair wrapped around the brush, but not much (HA!) and that normally that didn't affect the sucking, anyway. </p><br /><p>Then she inspected all the hoses, and couldn't find anything blocking them.</p><br /><p>So then she got really confused, and she started taking the vacuum apart, and on the inside of it she found a yellow sponge that looked like Sponge Bob Square Pants, and it was clean. So now she didn't know what to do. She finally decided to explore some more, because she said she was NOT going to buy a new vacuum, and I hope not, because this one has a wonderful "Bailey attachment" that she uses to vacuum me, and it feels Sooooooooooo good!</p><br /><p>She lifted up the vacuum Sponge Bob Square Pants, and said "Whoa..."</p><br /><p>She even made her friend come and look at it, and her friend said "Oh my god you got a hamster in your vacuum!" So that got me to come in for an even closer look. </p><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSjDEF-rz_IqzR4M2nKlIxQ9mQBWWo_Hbva9FUwZ7FHuxiSC6_hxdnkqEIwx3_FnsYVVeDCVlwWrDUnHwEdkbabb4tfZIoTZV9z-HgbVpmXcggMFoHdaBF_3iG2awLGT8pQcsPRaS7TRk/s1600/vacuum+hamster.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 273px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591719885644585922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSjDEF-rz_IqzR4M2nKlIxQ9mQBWWo_Hbva9FUwZ7FHuxiSC6_hxdnkqEIwx3_FnsYVVeDCVlwWrDUnHwEdkbabb4tfZIoTZV9z-HgbVpmXcggMFoHdaBF_3iG2awLGT8pQcsPRaS7TRk/s320/vacuum+hamster.jpg" /></a></p><br /><p>But it wasn't a hamster!</p><br /><p></p>This is what it looked like after Mom used tools to dig it out of the vacuum's tummy. <br /><p></p><br /><p></p>Mom says it was a dense blob of my hair and carpet fibers from the store. And some dirt. it was pretty big! This sort of proves my theory about <a href="http://bailey-the-goldenretriever.blogspot.com/2009/08/toxic-dog-hair-truth.html">toxic dog hair</a>, huh? After Mom put the vacuum cleaner back together, it worked like brand new! But here's the deal: That is NOT my hair. It is Gumball's. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpNTZEItxHRiqOUH-zOVWiw9PmpBuekrPgBkYMTfX9X449dJttc3VDb9MYpDCDNyDxrR-x-8R_tvGpNVt7N4s9pHPk8Sb-qps0n7qsBfNv4XYhqfuknjCBiPpdr0mcuDN83wm7oRI4Zvs/s1600/stolen+bone3.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 218px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5591720153049396002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpNTZEItxHRiqOUH-zOVWiw9PmpBuekrPgBkYMTfX9X449dJttc3VDb9MYpDCDNyDxrR-x-8R_tvGpNVt7N4s9pHPk8Sb-qps0n7qsBfNv4XYhqfuknjCBiPpdr0mcuDN83wm7oRI4Zvs/s320/stolen+bone3.jpg" /></a> <br /><p></p>Here is my proof: 1) As you can seen in this picture, my hair is a lustrous red, while Gumball's hair is sandy brown, like the vacuum hamster's.<BR> 2) Golden Retreiever's do NOT shed. It is a well-known fact, right, guys? <BR>3) Mom vacuums me almost every day at work, so there is no way any of my beautiful hair could get trapped in the vacuum's tummy (um, that made sense in my head) <br /><p></p><br /><p></p><br /><p></p>On Sunday, Mom asked me if I wanted to go ride in the car, so I came running, and jumped in the car, and Mom did NOT go back inside to get Gumball. Just Mom and me went for a ride! It was so peaceful! We went to work, but just for a short visit. And then we had another peaceful ride home! <BR><BR>Later Sunday night Mom was working on the computer (duh), doing something she calls "syncing the iPad." I do not know anything about that, but I DO know that now she has TWO laptop computers, and that is no fair. But anyway, when she does this syncing thing, the small computer is hooked up to the other computer with a short cord she calls the "USB Cable". And this syncing stuff takes a really really long time, like 2 hours! It is ridiculous. But anyway, Mom started the syncing, and after about an hour she decided to go cook dinner, and so I ate my dinner, and then ran upstairs to drool on her while she ate hers. And I jumped on the bed and nudged my way over to her, and she started yelling and yelling, and I decided I better go hide in my bed, even though she was eating. It was a tough decision, but she seemed pretty mad. Mad enough that she had put her hot dinner over on the table, and grabbed the computers, and that's when she started telling me I had stepped on the USB cable and unplugged it from the 'puter, and now she had to start the sync all over. Oh noes. But she started it again, and then I snuck back over to the bed, and eventually she convinced me it was safe for me to jump back up there. And I got to lick her soup bowl when she was finished. Yay! <br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSjDEF-rz_IqzR4M2nKlIxQ9mQBWWo_Hbva9FUwZ7FHuxiSC6_hxdnkqEIwx3_FnsYVVeDCVlwWrDUnHwEdkbabb4tfZIoTZV9z-HgbVpmXcggMFoHdaBF_3iG2awLGT8pQcsPRaS7TRk/s1600/vacuum+hamster.jpg"></a></p>Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-49649774576520161502011-03-27T09:32:00.000-07:002011-03-27T09:52:42.395-07:00It's all about GumballGumball Gumball Gumball. He is my nemesis, you know. He is Mr. Bossy Boots about everything, and tries to keep me away from my toys, and my Mom's bed, heck - he tries to keep me out of Mom's whole room! Mom and I still have lap time, and go on walkies, but that little yapper sure has changed things around here! Yesterday, Mom was giving me some rawhide chews, and Gumball wanted one, and since he doesn't have a bottom jaw or any teeth, I don't really see the point, but Mom naturally gave him some 'cause he asked for them. She put them in this bed, because that is the easies place for him to lick them. And that is really all he can do. He licks, and licks, and licks, and sometimes he tries to chew them, but then he goes back to the licking. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsDEHrZmXDdeOGl0kBKFKjDqh5seOqJBMxier6Uayv-j6n-QlCk5_fZtoGDS3MD3qbvry1KWWsNAbaRoBOFNvdOElKSyrPJBn-8tHmUWWcUKrGeWLv-1BEwGdDN8tKC90IbZkIaevujR0/s1600/GB+bones1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588800608742613954" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsDEHrZmXDdeOGl0kBKFKjDqh5seOqJBMxier6Uayv-j6n-QlCk5_fZtoGDS3MD3qbvry1KWWsNAbaRoBOFNvdOElKSyrPJBn-8tHmUWWcUKrGeWLv-1BEwGdDN8tKC90IbZkIaevujR0/s320/GB+bones1.jpg" /></a> <br /><p>So here is where he has discovered them in his bed, and he picked the one with bacon wrapped around it</p><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsDEHrZmXDdeOGl0kBKFKjDqh5seOqJBMxier6Uayv-j6n-QlCk5_fZtoGDS3MD3qbvry1KWWsNAbaRoBOFNvdOElKSyrPJBn-8tHmUWWcUKrGeWLv-1BEwGdDN8tKC90IbZkIaevujR0/s1600/GB+bones1.jpg"></a></p><br /><p></p><br /><p></p><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy5adDkwuvttTxPThYJFLZCcA1ERvzuKrYnSrFhP8ZVO8lEIuyqwcz4BxaE2QAmhwz0tp4OcIJsiyND_N6ebz9bC0RpSMfRDvyk8zjrO69tKfD3reaNOPSDh9kYvRDcO3D1X39ahlyNaU/s1600/GB+bones3.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588800504844454578" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy5adDkwuvttTxPThYJFLZCcA1ERvzuKrYnSrFhP8ZVO8lEIuyqwcz4BxaE2QAmhwz0tp4OcIJsiyND_N6ebz9bC0RpSMfRDvyk8zjrO69tKfD3reaNOPSDh9kYvRDcO3D1X39ahlyNaU/s320/GB+bones3.jpg" /></a></p>He couldn't lie in his bed while he licked them, so he planted himself on the lip of his bed, and anchored them with his paws and the bed pillow, and licked, and licked, and licked. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVB8n53jW1TqtytZSi7JtTkuZh-udexfDmS9Qp2ZnoLfke7snVvLk1BmSmt1wslFlw2fNFDR48l6X3Txcz7h4KPMVqvsUGIX2XNbXZuVlccodv278C0fPg2t4-O__8XnvWmZlQWp0naIU/s1600/GB+bones5.jpg"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKMl0OEU0gwoM-gKrHc6r4qp1L871FKRW4wPcZ6IiQ7ZKmwURtDHTie5fNYmJVp1ZNiG9HHq3EhQSJUBNJm-kIGQ5d3oKHZXuLgx2USXfax6dWwPYlDJ6waqf1TCZNerQFrphksH2UDDE/s1600/GB+bones4.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 295px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588799948563544610" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKMl0OEU0gwoM-gKrHc6r4qp1L871FKRW4wPcZ6IiQ7ZKmwURtDHTie5fNYmJVp1ZNiG9HHq3EhQSJUBNJm-kIGQ5d3oKHZXuLgx2USXfax6dWwPYlDJ6waqf1TCZNerQFrphksH2UDDE/s320/GB+bones4.jpg" /></a> <br /><p></p><br /><p>More licking. Every hour or so he would get up to go drink a lot of water. </p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgutXFOH-6kFHyUXlM1ZRZCwYv7gF-iXgwRJSIZNeXO2lC9P7G_cjHJHMlWfnUq0Z1EahOGluU8f4yoMvCiuEIP12oONrTPo6CY3E4DC_NVMiGIslS_C6oqhul5zjWmIY15XAsMjqcA1ug/s1600/GB+bones2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588800134950614258" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgutXFOH-6kFHyUXlM1ZRZCwYv7gF-iXgwRJSIZNeXO2lC9P7G_cjHJHMlWfnUq0Z1EahOGluU8f4yoMvCiuEIP12oONrTPo6CY3E4DC_NVMiGIslS_C6oqhul5zjWmIY15XAsMjqcA1ug/s320/GB+bones2.jpg" /></a> Here Gumball tries a new stance on attacking the bones. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgni95bNCjPo_QIJhXOLfVReOPYCcJmTxVCRs1PTWHA2bH_SiapqEC_vjHS_heiTCoG87KteOfwSmChqqggYxUS1K60F47H906NQh2ZrkCuAOByXDMjskMntOB_IAbPlS_tiTluXUJb-7E/s1600/GB+bones.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5588799736231313106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgni95bNCjPo_QIJhXOLfVReOPYCcJmTxVCRs1PTWHA2bH_SiapqEC_vjHS_heiTCoG87KteOfwSmChqqggYxUS1K60F47H906NQh2ZrkCuAOByXDMjskMntOB_IAbPlS_tiTluXUJb-7E/s320/GB+bones.jpg" /></a> This is what the two chews looked like after 5 hours of licking. Gumball was on another water break. I tried to steal these perfectly good bones, but Mom wouldn't let me. As you can see, Gumball also is a bed-scratcher. He scratched for-EVER before he lies down. Every time. His poor bed is a mess. Mom tried to get a new pillow for his bed, but they don't make them. The store told her she has to buy a whole new bed. Someone at the shop suggested Mom just buy some fleece and take off the ratty cover, and sew him a new one. Mom laughed, and laughed! She said she has 2 hundred-something half-finished jewelry projects, and more she wants to start, so why on earth would she decide to go fabric shopping, and then tried to make a cover for his cushion? She figures she'll eventually have to buy a whole new bed. But for now, this one still washes good in the washing machine, and dries in the dryer, and Gumball likes it, so he's stuck with it. Sorry to be such a bad blogger. There are just so many other things to do!!Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-38066029655957172032010-12-21T11:52:00.000-08:002010-12-21T12:11:57.705-08:00My Mom is very confusingMom has started calling me by a new name: "Notchu Bailey".<br /><br /><div><div><br /><div>She calls me "Notchu Bailey" 3 or 4 times a day, but other times she calls me my usual names, like Bailey, or Bay-Bay, or Baby, so that is why I'm confused. At first I thought she was saying "Nacho, Bailey", so naturally that got me up and running pretty fast. But she never had any Nachos for me, so I listened harder and realized it was "Notchu Bailey." </div><br /><br /><div>It is a pretty weird name, and it never means anything good for me. This is how it usually happens: Mom fixes a big delicious bowl of extra special dogfood, with real chicken, and cheese, and bacon, and other yummy stuff. Then she says "Come here, Baby, you're dinner is ready." So I come running over, and then she says "Notchu Bailey". And here is the not-so-good part: every time she calls me that, she gives the yummy food to Gumball.</div><br /><br /><div></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 21px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553229251125654578" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCDOaT3Q5CFozrp6rXtXomMMC5SXhr4HPneZ-Tc5uyyjabMqRpcTrWO8Z2B-39CzjnkkYDlVgX3Xhe9JYmlndXHWTUn3_8n3D0UMNATLMp-vC5uZKprmJosM5_g8GLSqmp0XcylK8-MQY/s400/holly2.gif" /><br /><div>I can't believe it has been 3 months since I blogged - I have been working really hard at Mom's store, and time just got away! As much as <a href="http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/pages/Bailey-the-Golden-Retriever/117686404938533">Facebook</a> is a pain sometimes, it is so easy for me to pop in there and just say a few words, and I have to think real hard to do these blog posts!</div><br /><br /><div>I have lots of stuff to tell everybody, and new pictures, so I will try to do better. I love all you guys! Happy Holidays! Oh yeah: look at the new baby my friend Ruth got me! I shake it real hard and bop Mom and Gumball on the head. That is fun! Sometimes I knock Gumball off the bed when I do that, but he shouldn't be up there in my territory, anyway!</div><br /><br /><div></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 247px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5553230057143769394" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiMNdNZrpnd9eAXPsuYHu2NyNGM6rbElNlRyhwcr9n7xALCMoroJ6tpU-ij7UIG6MGqTa_7LztEkTn97WdsBwlDiSsyIrvDkNCBVtOS4agU7jiZWEEwASPs6VJXPj9J3jE4XfktkZn5w8/s320/newest+baby+ruth.jpg" /><br /><div>I hope Santa is good to all my bloggy friends!</div></div></div>Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-67967397275546106352010-09-06T10:45:00.000-07:002010-09-06T10:48:32.066-07:00Mom learned the secret of the moving bedMom finally saw <a href="http://sweetfreedom-designs.blogspot.com/2010/09/gumball-is-something-else.html">how Gumball is moving his bed</a>.<br /><br /><br />I already knew how he was doing it, 'cause I watched him do it all week in the mountains, but I couldn't tell Mom, 'cause it is fun to keep secrets from her, and see her be all confused. Plus, us dogs have to stick together!.Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-63390994857236025562010-09-05T12:32:00.000-07:002010-09-05T18:34:49.978-07:00Sshhhh.... I have a secret!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn7ysqylPFcg6A1GpAPnKHyzFrHLKLAs4K6r3VEZk33u5KN6_w5oonghhm-TCiAFqrpN-zyp-_L9JwMoNhwE3PYgH9K8HLY4MYDukDdmJ6VDX7-fsexMu2LPk9wk-MP1gAECLQCuf9LeA/s1600/zombie+gumball.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 282px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513515620012109202" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn7ysqylPFcg6A1GpAPnKHyzFrHLKLAs4K6r3VEZk33u5KN6_w5oonghhm-TCiAFqrpN-zyp-_L9JwMoNhwE3PYgH9K8HLY4MYDukDdmJ6VDX7-fsexMu2LPk9wk-MP1gAECLQCuf9LeA/s320/zombie+gumball.jpg" /></a><br /><div></div><div><strong><em><span style="color:#cc0000;">GUMBALL IS A ZOMBIE!<BR><BR></span></em></strong></div><div></div><div></div><div>Just look at those glowing green eyes! </div><div></div><div>I have watched enough spooky movies with my Mom to know a zombie when I see one, and Gumball is definitely a zombie! <BR><BR> </div><div></div><div>His eyes glow like this all the time; Mom NEVER sees them, but I see them all the time, especially in the dark!</div><div></div><div><BR>And he has magical powers, too - like, we went on vacation again last week to see our friends Kathy and John in the mountains, and believe it or not, Gumball came, too. And he got to sit in the front seat with Mom, and she rubbed his head and his back a lot all the way up there, and all the way home. I never get to sit in the front seat - Mom says it is because I am too big, but I think front-seat-sitting is a magical power, sort of. Of course, I don't really want him riding in the back seat with me, either. <BR><BR></div><div></div><div>Whenever we are going anywhere and we stop for gas, he hops out of his seat and over the divider thing and into the back seat with me.<BR> <BR></div><div></div><div>But anyway, back to our vacation. BTW, Kathy and John still have <a href="http://bailey-the-goldenretriever.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-took-vacation-and-something-horrible.html">Princess Nummy and Tai </a>living with them, and they were not very excited to see me OR Gumball. <BR><BR></div><div></div><div>So Mom took Gumball's special bed (he needs it for his arthritis), but she said my special bed is too big to take, so I always have to sleep on either her bed (which isn't big enough for both of us!) or on the floor. But I also get to watch TV in <a href="http://bailey-the-goldenretriever.blogspot.com/2010/02/my-best-christmas-present.html">the big recliner</a>!<BR><BR> </div><div></div><div>And Mom put Gumball's bed in our bedroom, and then put a nice comfy comforter, all folded up, down on the living room floor for when we were watching TV, or whatever, and he didn't want to be in the bedroom. Because evidently it hurts his bones to lie on the floor.<BR><BR> </div><div></div><div>So everyday Mom and Kathy would drive off somewhere, and John would hang around for a little while, and then he would leave, and it would just be us 4 dogs alone in the house all day long. I always just chilled out on Mom's bed. But whenever John or Mom and Kathy came home, they would find Gumball's special bed out in the hallway. For a long time they tried to figure out how it kept getting moved, because Gumball doesn't have any jaw or any teeth, and he is pretty tiny, so they didn't think it was him. One time they tried to blame me, and said I was trying to move him out of Mom's bedroom 'cause I was jealous, but it wasn't me, either! And then Kathy told Mom that John was doing it so that Gumball wouldn't be lonely in the bedroom (but I was there - how could he be lonely?) So everyone was very confused, until the day after we got back to our own house.<BR><BR></div><div></div><div>Mom had put Gumball's bed back in its usual spot as soon as we got home, but she had to go to the doctor the next day, so she left us 2 dogs home alone. And when she got back, she found Gumball's bed out in the hallway at the top of the stairs, and she realized that whenever she leaves him at home, he must be somehow (magically, I tell you!) dragging his bed trying to go in the car with her, but it is a big bed for him to drag, so he finally gives up and just sleeps in it wherever he dragged it to.</div><div></div><div><BR><BR>So this morning, Mom and I went for a long walkie because it has started to be a little cooler here in the morning, and to stop the bed-dragging, Mom took Gumball's bed downstairs and left it by the door. But when we got home from our walk, Gumball wasn't in his bed, or any of his usual downstairs spots (like my downstairs bed, or on the sofa, or on a chair), so she went looking for him, and found him lying on the floor where his special bed <strong><em>usually</em></strong> is. So now Mom says she gives up, and he can move his bed wherever he wants. But she still wants to see how he is doing it. But of course, he doesn't do it when Mom is around. Zombies are sneaky like that.<BR><BR></div><div></div><div>Mom says she wants to get a Gumball cam.<BR><BR></div><div></div><div>But back to our vacation - we both had a really good time in the mountains! I watched a lot of TV in the big recliner, and Mom took me for lots of walkies in the cool mountain weather. And Gumball even liked walking around Kathy and John's yard. He is getting stronger and stronger everyday, and one day he even started running down their driveway (he was just trying to find a good spot for pooping) and you should have seen Mom chasing him! There's no cars up there, so she wasn't making him wear his leash, because he is usually a slow walker. HA! He showed her!</div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTKeLWc3QVABbtoufNtTeSGCUM77uslT4IsCEx_BvHjvIbJmbR6j1sHUDqPaP67xIS3iDZ5wBN0jvs5074zVg-5oBcE2rP8fpN5NMHZoHLirVqJvkLSYFlXAQCYMjm9MFYP23UwBCYNmY/s1600/vacation+bone.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 286px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513515441805174354" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTKeLWc3QVABbtoufNtTeSGCUM77uslT4IsCEx_BvHjvIbJmbR6j1sHUDqPaP67xIS3iDZ5wBN0jvs5074zVg-5oBcE2rP8fpN5NMHZoHLirVqJvkLSYFlXAQCYMjm9MFYP23UwBCYNmY/s320/vacation+bone.jpg" /></a></div><div></div><div></div><div>Here is Gumball licking one of those delicious cheddar cheese rawhide chews in his bed on vacation. He licks, and licks, and licks.... and mostly I steal them eventually. They leave stinky stains on his bed, too, so Mom says no more chews in the bed!<BR><BR></div><div></div><div>But Gumball doesn't seem to like his chews very much anymore, and Mom just bought 1000 of them (because SuperPetz here was going out of business, and had them on sale!) and Mom says I can have them now! Yay!<BR></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTKeLWc3QVABbtoufNtTeSGCUM77uslT4IsCEx_BvHjvIbJmbR6j1sHUDqPaP67xIS3iDZ5wBN0jvs5074zVg-5oBcE2rP8fpN5NMHZoHLirVqJvkLSYFlXAQCYMjm9MFYP23UwBCYNmY/s1600/vacation+bone.jpg"></a></div><div></div><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXlpuN6U8d0SMuXBApGk6hVdNhew_UBeMyzO-xwqIcqwZnMwBRqVlMDvx0Xl88XxT5P4XeCZqf-y-BPBNxOBtE-MCSS7FnxX3Xi93M_h9JVXvV4OqRbTyGIkl8xRdnQp_X2KWk7IRw2ig/s1600/vacation+pout.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 234px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513515018636503890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXlpuN6U8d0SMuXBApGk6hVdNhew_UBeMyzO-xwqIcqwZnMwBRqVlMDvx0Xl88XxT5P4XeCZqf-y-BPBNxOBtE-MCSS7FnxX3Xi93M_h9JVXvV4OqRbTyGIkl8xRdnQp_X2KWk7IRw2ig/s320/vacation+pout.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>This is my vacation pout - I am on Mom's vacation bed, with my new elephant, but pouting because Gumball has a special bed, and a cheddar chew, and I know Mom is getting ready to leave!<BR><BR></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>I am glad to be back home, and when Mom and I went on our walkie this morning lots of people came out of there houses to speak to me. At the end of the cul-de-sac where we walk I met a nice little boy named Ben, and his Dad, and they both gave me pats and rubs. And then we walked around the cul-de-sac, and 2 doors across from Ben's house there was a man and a lady with a gigantic golden retriever, who was straining at his leash trying to meet me (I was way ahead of Mom, as usual). The lady said they see us walking a lot, and wanted their Golden to meet me (and they were complimentary about the way I carry my own leash - they said their Golden doesn't do that). Their Golden was 7 years old, and he was a boy dog like me, and the same color as me, but he was huge! And very very active! But he was a nice dog. <BR><BR></div><div></div><div>Mom and I kept walking, and she decided to do a 2nd lap around the cul-de-sac, and when we got back to the house where that Golden Retriever had been, the man was outside the house again, this time with a different Golden Retriever, who wasn't on a leash, and she came running straight at me! I dropped my leash so we could sniff each other, and her Dad came over and told my Mom that her name was Edisto. That is the name of a beach Mom and I went to one time! And even Edisto was much bigger than I am, so Mom thinks now that I must have been the runt of my litter, whatever that means.<BR><BR></div><div></div><div>Mom took me and Gumball to the doctor last Monday (Gumball had to get bloodwork). We both got our nails cut, and we both got weighed. I had lost another pound, and Gumball had lot 6 ounces. Mom was very upset about both of us losing weight. She told the doctor that Gumball eats like a pig, and the vet said not to worry - that he will be OK. Then Mom asked about me, because the doctor had told Mom the last time I had MY appointment that I needed to gain a few pounds, and Mom has been giving me extra food, so Mom asked if I should get even more food! I was so excited, but the vet said NO. Booooooooo! The vet said she has decided that I am just destined to be a lean, mean Golden Retriever (I am <em>NOT</em> mean), and to just leave my meals the way they are. Boooo.</div></div>Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-80636506350358035082010-08-15T06:21:00.000-07:002010-08-16T11:46:43.272-07:00I've Been on 'Strictshuns"'Strictshuns" is what happens when Mom gets strict with me. She has never done this before, so I knew she meant business!<br /><br />"'Stictshuns" means that my Mom said I couldn't use the computer, so I couldn't update my blog and talk to all my friends, and I have missed you! And I couldn't use <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Bailey-the-Golden-Retriever/117686404938533">dumb ole FaceBook</a>, but that was OK, because FaceBook still confuses me and makes my head hurt sometimes.<br /><br />Mom said I had to be on 'strictshuns until I got an attitude adjustment about <a href="http://sweetfreedom-designs.blogspot.com/2010/08/gumball-is-home.html">Gumball</a>. She said I cannot exagerrate about him anymore, or call him "Dumball", or mean kind of stuff like that. And that I have to try to be less jealous. She said I am his big brother now, and I have to set a good example.<br /><br />Then she told me I was really the "little brother" because he is much older than I am, but since he is so tiny, and I was here first, I get to be the big brother.<br /><br />I had a lot of problems at first with this attitude thing. Like, he gets to eat 6 or 7 times a day! (I was gonna say he gets to eat a hundred times a day, but that is the kind of exaggerating I can't be doing anymore).<br /><br />And he eats special food! It smells so good, and he gets to have real gravy on it (not the gravy that comes out of the tap on Mom's sink, like I get). And at first, Mom would have to tie me up with my leash, or shut me up in the bedroom or bathroom, so that I wouldn't eat his food. I never tried to eat it while HE was eating it, but it takes him an hour to eat (that is NOT an exaggeration!) and he has this habit of eating for 10 minutes or so, and then walking a lap around the downstairs, and going back to his bowl and eating some more - and he does this all the time. I figured that once he walked away that bowl of food is fair game, and I should get to clean up what was left, but Mom said "No", 'cause he needs his food 'cause he is so skinny, and after a few days of being tied on my leash or shut up in the bathroom, I learned real quick that I can only clean his bowl when Mom tells me it is OK. So I sit a few feet away, and wait for those magic words.<br /><br />But I still don't understand why he gets to eat so much - Mom says my doctor told her he needs to gain 4 pounds - but she told my Mom I could stand to gain 5 pounds, and Mom only added a midnight snack for me!<br /><br /><br />And I'm not supposed to step on him anymore - so I always look where I am barreling now, and try very hard to be careful where I put my feet, 'cause he always seems to be right up under me!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQBYiGmA_VYN-iw3xuUZN8JQYOOoXWeRFWPeb3IgZ6noCgIXAq8GfLFy4B9BSjlTZ04bYAnUupNjjKAlpiUwpaYlqGRWZBwEG_Ta147kl3-KwiQuEUzH5XDx7DIuin7IvuzUeyI_sNoEI/s1600/new+elephant+baby2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 246px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505629160273475090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQBYiGmA_VYN-iw3xuUZN8JQYOOoXWeRFWPeb3IgZ6noCgIXAq8GfLFy4B9BSjlTZ04bYAnUupNjjKAlpiUwpaYlqGRWZBwEG_Ta147kl3-KwiQuEUzH5XDx7DIuin7IvuzUeyI_sNoEI/s320/new+elephant+baby2.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Mom got me a new elephant Baby to reward me for being a good big brother.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />And here's something else I don't understand - Gumball doesn't like Babies! Or Squeaky toys!<br /><br />I'm not complaining - I am happy that he doesn't steal my toys <a href="http://bailey-the-goldenretriever.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-took-vacation-and-something-horrible.html">like Nummy does</a>!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6cEwUvcbKVk9LVLrkmhrWoPR7p0_Wjvqf8FrxOQ8Puvu07gAzESquHjjHPG64qtLFrH5YIe8VtnNf-ZDGLlrE0NHnWDyqFdKe4FHHNarFpyB9LI_0acW1HHFWO7XCEjqftEp3qqevGck/s1600/stolen+bone.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 278px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505628883338731074" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6cEwUvcbKVk9LVLrkmhrWoPR7p0_Wjvqf8FrxOQ8Puvu07gAzESquHjjHPG64qtLFrH5YIe8VtnNf-ZDGLlrE0NHnWDyqFdKe4FHHNarFpyB9LI_0acW1HHFWO7XCEjqftEp3qqevGck/s320/stolen+bone.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br />But the little chowhound steals my bones!!<br /><br />Oh Noes!!<br /><br />Mom started giving me extra bones, and I was enjoying one on the bed, and Gumball came over and just put his mouth right on it, so I moved back, and he proceeded to drag it off to his bed.<br /><br />He doesn't even know how to carry a bone correctly, and all he does is lick lick lick them - Mom says it is because he doesn't have any teeth.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkZumzp_o4gW58Fn29gtHB90bCtMMZIPGVHahRX-jwpOhixFiJC-hehVjNLf_-kNt5UAibvD8YbZaQk47839ksEjiMED_-Unj4jYOqQ3jfB6ky0FOH7XXgXmqrSfSUhbXcLWM1ZlWE7pA/s1600/stolen+bone3.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 218px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505627836020513314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkZumzp_o4gW58Fn29gtHB90bCtMMZIPGVHahRX-jwpOhixFiJC-hehVjNLf_-kNt5UAibvD8YbZaQk47839ksEjiMED_-Unj4jYOqQ3jfB6ky0FOH7XXgXmqrSfSUhbXcLWM1ZlWE7pA/s320/stolen+bone3.jpg" /></a><br /><br />This is me pouting right after he stole this delicious bone. He somehow gets one end of my bones in his mouth, and then drags them backward, using the floor or the bed as his bottom jaw ('cause he doesn't have a bottom jaw either) and the next thing you know, they are in his bed.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4_oVOZZ7O1fxSYHjdR93ctIKJNzij23JeSAMklS_-eXsY8W_gmb8vDWv3TbKVixYPb9VFLpgMURtdxmyU5rVHM0h2TDQpHF8cFrxC158Iw8ZCrW8wN5qnk_CXSE_-vGllEE5EnX0WdHA/s1600/cheesebone2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 233px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505627619867787826" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4_oVOZZ7O1fxSYHjdR93ctIKJNzij23JeSAMklS_-eXsY8W_gmb8vDWv3TbKVixYPb9VFLpgMURtdxmyU5rVHM0h2TDQpHF8cFrxC158Iw8ZCrW8wN5qnk_CXSE_-vGllEE5EnX0WdHA/s320/cheesebone2.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br />Here is Gumball playing with my stolen cheesebone, and you can see the other special bone tucked in his bed.<br /><br />He even buries them under the soft mattress in his bed! But I know all about his hiding places, and when he is not in his bed, I go over to it and steal my bones back. I am still getting in a little bit of trouble for this. Mom says she will just get me a new bone every time he steals mine, but it's the principle, you know?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />He started stealing my bones the day before Mom took him to see my doctor, and left me at home! I knew she had been there, because she smelled like my doctor's office when she got home! Mom says the doctor told her that Gumball remembers chewing bones when he was younger, and that it was perfectly OK for him to have bones, and they DO seem to make him happy, so I let him keep stealing them. But I still steal them back sometimes!<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXtV25Iz-IyawNGfyElEXloLExTUDkB74xVe4fHfXb3PcWEf05zDtqFuefYKRm50zZtfZ2t-LAMbi-3F078yk3_65FpYsicE1GkPAhwwWhcbm1eTB6kTFpxx5SoIatvYCKoRjlXn3VR1k/s1600/he+has+my+bone.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 178px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505628308264836626" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXtV25Iz-IyawNGfyElEXloLExTUDkB74xVe4fHfXb3PcWEf05zDtqFuefYKRm50zZtfZ2t-LAMbi-3F078yk3_65FpYsicE1GkPAhwwWhcbm1eTB6kTFpxx5SoIatvYCKoRjlXn3VR1k/s320/he+has+my+bone.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Mom sometimes puts his bed on top of her bed, and he used to sleep up there with her, but she stopped doing that a couple of days ago, because when he gets thirsty or want to go outside, he would just leap over the side of the bed and onto the floor, and Mom was afraid he was going to get hurt.<br /><br />He has special stairs that he can use to get up and down from Mom's bed, and he is getting better about using the stairs instead of jumping.<br /><br />You see how he has his own soft special blue bed? He has one at Mom's store, too. At home, he has a bad habit of sneaking into my special bed, instead of his. But at the store, he has never even tried to get in <a href="http://bailey-the-goldenretriever.blogspot.com/2009/12/yall-will-never-believe-this.html">my bed</a>. Mom says that is because it is too far away from my Mom - and I think that sounds about right, because he follows her everywhere!<br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmUSWYyL76WDGQR-XqF1LVNTIJPqidV8AxDDZrrqQN84idFdClWIq6CRpKx230AGd9RX20Psh_XK17LYnQ5AX1kof0iGYHiYDmHtdha_e8OOhMb-zeQCTTpVfFeWZDAhSHNDzv6y4Wt6g/s1600/no+bones.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5505628593420595554" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmUSWYyL76WDGQR-XqF1LVNTIJPqidV8AxDDZrrqQN84idFdClWIq6CRpKx230AGd9RX20Psh_XK17LYnQ5AX1kof0iGYHiYDmHtdha_e8OOhMb-zeQCTTpVfFeWZDAhSHNDzv6y4Wt6g/s320/no+bones.jpg" /></a></div><br /><br /><br />So this is my big pouty face after my bones got stolen. Even my Babies couldn't cheer me up.<br /><br />But I am doing much better, and Mom keeps telling me I am the bestest dog, and she gives me lots of kisses and hugs, but things are definitely different. Like we hardly ever play soccer anymore.<br /><br />And we don't go on walkies anymore, but Mom says that is because it is so hot. I'm not sure about that. At least I know Gumball can't go on walks with us, because most of the time he walks super-slow, and then gets tired, and Mom carries him. And when she carries him, she rubs his back, and kisses his head, and talks to him in his ears, and most of the time I just run ahead of them so I don't have to watch all that. And that is just for our short potty trips at home or at work - imagine what it would be like if it was one of our long walkies!<br /><br /><br /><br /><div>I'm not so sure about this big brother stuff, but I am trying very hard to be a good big brother, 'cause it makes my Mom happy, and she tells me how good I am, and also because I did not like 'strictshuns!</div>Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-25258113520600657162010-07-25T11:53:00.000-07:002010-07-25T12:18:39.107-07:00What's wrong with these pictures??Today is Sunday, and that is the day that Mom and I sleep late, and laze around the house, and generally just chill out. And I woke up before Mom (of course) and just lay in my bed, thinking about all the laziness I could accomplish today!<br /><br />And then Mom got up and went into the bathroom (naturally, I followed her.)<br /><br />And then that OTHER dog started talking to my Mom - telling her that he needed to go out!<br /><br />Everyone knows you don't have to tell Mom this in the morning, and that she gets to go first!<br /><br />But she finished, and then carried the OTHER ONE downstairs and outside, and he peed a lot, and then he pooped, which for some reason made Mom weirdly happy - she never gets excited when I poop!<br /><br />And then we went inside for breakfast. And she fed the OTHER one first. This is so not fair.<br /><br />He finally finished, and I cleaned up his mess, and Mom fixed my food, and let the OTHER one lick all the gravy out of my breakfast. There is only so much I can take! But he finally drank it all, and Mom put more gravy in, and I ate my breakfast, while the 2 of them went upstairs.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7zanWLDzHyN9r_dI446LVIwqv9f4GmEb9AwxbuYIrQk5Izapkwp1QU2kNRNqvDshkqC05va0K1WqNkWjeLZ4a9lO2nftM16lWtB-70nZSaesmnkANktNCm0Is3Rk2cNKuof85GAbNOLI/s1600/b-g+bed+7-25+1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 162px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497920276189899586" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7zanWLDzHyN9r_dI446LVIwqv9f4GmEb9AwxbuYIrQk5Izapkwp1QU2kNRNqvDshkqC05va0K1WqNkWjeLZ4a9lO2nftM16lWtB-70nZSaesmnkANktNCm0Is3Rk2cNKuof85GAbNOLI/s320/b-g+bed+7-25+1.jpg" /></a><br />And when I got upstairs, I jumped up on the bed and found the OTHER one ON MY MOM'S BED!<br />Yikes! Look at my pouty sad face!<br /><br />But I held my ground, until Mom came and sat down right where I was, and I had to move to the foot of the bed.<br /><br />The OTHER one got to stay up there with her.<br /><div><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuJyGSdRen5WnhaSKZrT3AP4uv8j9KB4janx-dJrn4eW_OS8WLbPb9dLbig-eywQeoOKzpKMiGvKruSN7OiVeiThw3y6UlvmobyjxUxGZANYdZIIKxyI6MlzW3quOY5MdSOHPRxxgUt3o/s1600/b-g+bed+7-25+2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 149px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497920156321704626" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuJyGSdRen5WnhaSKZrT3AP4uv8j9KB4janx-dJrn4eW_OS8WLbPb9dLbig-eywQeoOKzpKMiGvKruSN7OiVeiThw3y6UlvmobyjxUxGZANYdZIIKxyI6MlzW3quOY5MdSOHPRxxgUt3o/s320/b-g+bed+7-25+2.jpg" /></a><br />But NO. </div><div> </div><div>The OTHER one decided he would come down into my territory, and he put his butt right next to mine!!<br /><br /></div><div></div><div>Mom says you are lucky you cannot see the expression on my face right now. But there was no way I was moving off my Mom's bed!<br /> </div><div><br />After a couple of hours, we went outside for a pee break, and when we came back in, Mom fixed more of my delicious food with gravy, and let the OTHER one have all the gravy. Then they went upstairs, and I stayed down in the kitchen, gobbling up the gravy-less food.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2_wYHo6AHm2Fi0CQeRZLg2vhqUSheGGAw0WBI3ecC-4FaHZ9JgVS8ns1Ss9ZV8PVwfWzRu6l78QlKt6rZPrunrLBDHa3Q-ha2ml6bB13Dem-WZv3f51PLYC2T10CuLFig6owdygflkPw/s1600/finally+-+order+is+restored.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 182px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497919825973354690" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2_wYHo6AHm2Fi0CQeRZLg2vhqUSheGGAw0WBI3ecC-4FaHZ9JgVS8ns1Ss9ZV8PVwfWzRu6l78QlKt6rZPrunrLBDHa3Q-ha2ml6bB13Dem-WZv3f51PLYC2T10CuLFig6owdygflkPw/s320/finally+-+order+is+restored.jpg" /></a></div></div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2_wYHo6AHm2Fi0CQeRZLg2vhqUSheGGAw0WBI3ecC-4FaHZ9JgVS8ns1Ss9ZV8PVwfWzRu6l78QlKt6rZPrunrLBDHa3Q-ha2ml6bB13Dem-WZv3f51PLYC2T10CuLFig6owdygflkPw/s1600/finally+-+order+is+restored.jpg"></a> </div></div><div>When I got upstairs, the OTHER one was nowhere to be found, and the bed was MINE!!<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2_wYHo6AHm2Fi0CQeRZLg2vhqUSheGGAw0WBI3ecC-4FaHZ9JgVS8ns1Ss9ZV8PVwfWzRu6l78QlKt6rZPrunrLBDHa3Q-ha2ml6bB13Dem-WZv3f51PLYC2T10CuLFig6owdygflkPw/s1600/finally+-+order+is+restored.jpg"></a> </div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div><br />And I enjoyed it until Mom kicked me with her giant foot, and I had to get off the bed for my own safety - so I decided I would get in my nice soft bed.<br /><br /><div> </div></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCrLUT8YYClHqcL4RVVnlQfOT78JBS6yV8FSRTDO3RHeGQMUYTCsU3Q-Jy3wvZguTe7eEVkKtrQ2qktTnQvUyCoqGoXciM4ludpkdEgcN1ySeNOJB2njNPVktjeejPXYTMEDWzAIfCt4U/s1600/aahhhhhh.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 318px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497919997172727154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCrLUT8YYClHqcL4RVVnlQfOT78JBS6yV8FSRTDO3RHeGQMUYTCsU3Q-Jy3wvZguTe7eEVkKtrQ2qktTnQvUyCoqGoXciM4ludpkdEgcN1ySeNOJB2njNPVktjeejPXYTMEDWzAIfCt4U/s320/aahhhhhh.jpg" /></a></div><div> </div><div><br />But, OH NOES!!</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>The other one is in my bed!</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>This is totally not fair.<br /><br /></div><div>Is there NO end to my sacrifices??<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjA8T7gVzvgOipmzzgPoMFn4w-ueQxAzp7u2pMDD_t57kjtMXUL8MSk_OSLfZIWq2VvScRDdGSGDA5aiw2JvHDoukSIti3OBFMz53DuWIVlZ2JphqcNNfCf_t6-S2RRtFbja0wlJMS-J3M/s1600/good+grief.jpg"></a></div><div><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2_wYHo6AHm2Fi0CQeRZLg2vhqUSheGGAw0WBI3ecC-4FaHZ9JgVS8ns1Ss9ZV8PVwfWzRu6l78QlKt6rZPrunrLBDHa3Q-ha2ml6bB13Dem-WZv3f51PLYC2T10CuLFig6owdygflkPw/s1600/finally+-+order+is+restored.jpg"></a> </div><div><br /> </div><div></div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzEnrWA71Qu6vDS2pvICx51sQTr3kklPJlVS-Ck-qWVXLM_WhdGUWTpZCA_GaFJ7QTBkjyTAHpdu5wGh1j80X0xpcegG79ga9-43ORLU6zqlyKJjAre0RT4yvnO3yPiZJF-Wq5K9dolSc/s1600/good+grief.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 197px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5497919699775162738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzEnrWA71Qu6vDS2pvICx51sQTr3kklPJlVS-Ck-qWVXLM_WhdGUWTpZCA_GaFJ7QTBkjyTAHpdu5wGh1j80X0xpcegG79ga9-43ORLU6zqlyKJjAre0RT4yvnO3yPiZJF-Wq5K9dolSc/s320/good+grief.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzEnrWA71Qu6vDS2pvICx51sQTr3kklPJlVS-Ck-qWVXLM_WhdGUWTpZCA_GaFJ7QTBkjyTAHpdu5wGh1j80X0xpcegG79ga9-43ORLU6zqlyKJjAre0RT4yvnO3yPiZJF-Wq5K9dolSc/s1600/good+grief.jpg"></a> </div>But Mom got out my old bed (look how pitifully non-deluxe it is!) and I decided to lie there, and give Mom another one of my patented pouty faces.<br /><br /></div><div></div><div>Mom tried to tell me that this bed is supposed to be for the OTHER one, but I call foul on that.</div><div> </div><div>'Cause look who is in it! Me, that's who!!</div><div> </div><div>And just now I got up to try to go get back in my good bed, and the OTHER one is still there - so I growled at Mom to make sure she knows about all this injustice, and she just asked me if I want to go outside. Can the woman not understand a thing I tell her? That was totally NOT my "I need to go outside" growl.</div><div> </div><div>So now I am lying on the plain old bare floor, suffering. With my butt facing my Mom, 'cause she needs to know I am mad.</div><div> </div><div>And Mom says the OTHER ONE's name is Gumball. I say his name is Trouble, or Interloper, or GET THE HELL OUT OF MY BED!<br /><br /></div>Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-66394204563371820702010-07-22T19:39:00.000-07:002010-07-22T19:56:48.050-07:00Oh NOESMom and I were driving to work yesterday, and she stopped the car in the middle of the road, and <a href="http://sweetfreedom-designs.blogspot.com/2010/07/rescuing-gumbo.html">picked up a tiny dog</a> and put him in the front seat. I NEVER get to sit in the front seat. I was jealous, and worried. <div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwZSk9s3pOsgaziaJPdhcZWg0oddLqVnv-thcz9soFW0sV2aOV_-0xopldlGg9NuuFRVxv_cahL0cL4jYnVzs5HmX9hWeoDgBXKocYHdVXJZIwjPFiG9f-MJxZ0jRXYejmZRr0fpt2y2Q/s1600/g+7-21+-+2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 173px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496928255793749858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwZSk9s3pOsgaziaJPdhcZWg0oddLqVnv-thcz9soFW0sV2aOV_-0xopldlGg9NuuFRVxv_cahL0cL4jYnVzs5HmX9hWeoDgBXKocYHdVXJZIwjPFiG9f-MJxZ0jRXYejmZRr0fpt2y2Q/s200/g+7-21+-+2.jpg" /></a><br /><div><br /></div>Then Mom dropped me at the shop, and locked me inside, and drove away with the little dog. She chose him! Oh NOES!<br /><br /><div></div><br /><br /><div><br /></div>But she came back later, with no little dog.<br /><div><br /> </div><div><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVvxSrKATvxAOKlzuBxr8TYkQcU4_lBt1XUxvaav7m6nrFZb9SUk0MxL4DObnP9CAD0HzZygavLz7Nd6qgMQNznonBq11GDpOa3KqNecXcRPs7fVRDnoxNk3Lel02aClTOfKhXqg_YYKw/s1600/g+crate.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 194px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496928053320723394" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVvxSrKATvxAOKlzuBxr8TYkQcU4_lBt1XUxvaav7m6nrFZb9SUk0MxL4DObnP9CAD0HzZygavLz7Nd6qgMQNznonBq11GDpOa3KqNecXcRPs7fVRDnoxNk3Lel02aClTOfKhXqg_YYKw/s200/g+crate.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div>But after work, we went to the doctor's office, and there was that little dog again, and the peoples put him in my Mom's arms, and she carried him out to the front seat again, and stuffed me in the back seat, and we went home, and she let the little dog in our house, and in my backyard, and she gave him special food that smelled really good! And then she started building my old doggy crate from when I was a baby, and I got worried again - but it was for the little dog. But I still stay far away from it. </div><br /><br /><div><br /></div><div> </div><div>The little dog isn't good for much, as far as I can tell. He gets carried everywhere, and he won't play with me, and I don't even get to eat his food. And Mom is always holding him. And he sleeps ALL the time.</div><br /><br /><div>I don't know about this. I never asked for a baby brudder, but Mom says he is an old man.</div><br /><div><br /><br />I am very confused.</div><div><br /> </div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5496927636651762018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTUgtgPrYVu0nAyIG5hHJlYEjWw1MlH34fjAlcailTSd5pRszEg3ksy2RzRP7QvlUuYVUn6nTrWEriNtXKgx5yhFmyxNgEVWt0PhuwVmFgIb-kUH-uHnBCtc4t3SOpojOoWiVTIAfjMZk/s320/g+basket+3.jpg" /></div></div><br /><p> </p><p>If my friends reading this know people in the Aiken'Augusta/North Augusta area, please send this to them via Facebook, or Twitter, or e-mail, or whatever. Let's get the word out so this little doggie can get back home to his regular Mommy! Thanks!</p>Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-11980564590067769572010-07-18T11:47:00.001-07:002010-07-18T12:10:24.262-07:00Cruel and Inhumane? You tell me!My Mom <strong>tortured</strong> me for over 2 hours today!<br /><br />She does this a lot - and it is high time I told the truth about this horrible treatment I receive!<br /><br />Mom fixes herself these fancy lunches, and dinners, and sometimes even breakfast (like French Toast, which looks and smells delicious, but she has never never let me taste it- she says the sugar is bad for me.)<br /><br />So anyway, she goes downstairs to the kitchen, and fixes the stuff.<br /><br />Today, she fixed a big old fancy salad - with lettuce, and grilled chicken, and cherry tomatoes, and corn, and carrots, and sunflower seeds, and cheese cheese cheese, and dressing -- all my favorites, except of course for lettuce. I will NOT eat plain lettuce - but Mom's lettuce always have lots of dressing on it, so it is yummy.<br /><br />Anyway, before she started fixing her salad, she gave me a big bowl of my breakfast. Which is AS IT SHOULD BE - of course I should eat first. So I was eating while she was making salad.<br /><br />She finished making her salad at about the time I finished eating, and then she spent 5 minutes tossing and mixing it really good - just the way I like it!<br /><br />And then she carried it upstairs, and set it down on the bed, and started playing on the dumb old computer again.<br /><br />She says she has sensitive teeth, and doesn't like cold food, so the salad has to warm up before she will eat it! That, of course, is nonsense.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgPYYpyxKODeJm1sX3fonFpsxzRNhihvJ-CeSxAS0z98v7jh5eFoHwy45pEYWD3p-XbL_A1dJ6VhJYUg_UVwZrtCoBkcqq5X9lfeBrb-Zm6SnSbuUlWCoLqyyZm7YkzNyD08YJjL63IG4/s1600/waiting+for+salad1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 162px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495320894030454898" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgPYYpyxKODeJm1sX3fonFpsxzRNhihvJ-CeSxAS0z98v7jh5eFoHwy45pEYWD3p-XbL_A1dJ6VhJYUg_UVwZrtCoBkcqq5X9lfeBrb-Zm6SnSbuUlWCoLqyyZm7YkzNyD08YJjL63IG4/s200/waiting+for+salad1.jpg" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgPYYpyxKODeJm1sX3fonFpsxzRNhihvJ-CeSxAS0z98v7jh5eFoHwy45pEYWD3p-XbL_A1dJ6VhJYUg_UVwZrtCoBkcqq5X9lfeBrb-Zm6SnSbuUlWCoLqyyZm7YkzNyD08YJjL63IG4/s1600/waiting+for+salad1.jpg"></a><br />So I have to sit there, mere inches from that delicious salad, and just wait.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div>At first, I am still smiling, because I always forget how long this part takes.<br /><br /><br /></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUCPw4T6NCBnAYB1GBAUhOuc9tYL_AvsCxHe73a3v3s2YDD3pK3WZz-zgO4c77a7-wQhTV865Qg5AHjRa3KX9TI2fNi7CWzhp0i-Flangdxl3etg4ZVNUOukWF9os5PhV9i1q89vYFKPI/s1600/waiting+for+salad2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 181px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 200px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495320724868573266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUCPw4T6NCBnAYB1GBAUhOuc9tYL_AvsCxHe73a3v3s2YDD3pK3WZz-zgO4c77a7-wQhTV865Qg5AHjRa3KX9TI2fNi7CWzhp0i-Flangdxl3etg4ZVNUOukWF9os5PhV9i1q89vYFKPI/s200/waiting+for+salad2.jpg" /></a><br /><br />Soon I start to get tired, and have to rest my head -<br /></div><div><br /> </div><div></div><div>But I know my manners, and I know better than to get my "big nose" near her salad.<br /><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir5LyygU8VrDZFcsIgTzgCezXSecSgfr6aWoM5yU3uksjiigNUCfFgytG4MTQVDg8hZB3HziQudhi9MD3C_Z4Ivy8dQglKjz8VEXjq2wfDZfJiWhL4j7lV-dE4ilfmO3Sq752cULjMcg0/s1600/waiting+for+salad4.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495320521060460130" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir5LyygU8VrDZFcsIgTzgCezXSecSgfr6aWoM5yU3uksjiigNUCfFgytG4MTQVDg8hZB3HziQudhi9MD3C_Z4Ivy8dQglKjz8VEXjq2wfDZfJiWhL4j7lV-dE4ilfmO3Sq752cULjMcg0/s200/waiting+for+salad4.jpg" /></a><br /></div><div></div><div><br />After a long long time, I finally show her I am no longer interested.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>This usually works, and she starts to eat.</div><div> </div><div> </div><div>But she takes a few bites, puts down the salad, and goes back to the 'puter. And so sometimes it can take her 3 hours to eat her dumb old lunch.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI0gS7Nr4BFxMes7R3WRuQOBHDke4qSt0V9o5ZAqfjoPBoFK5T29J1cqXzxTutcTweXOvHpYcqCNJ6uqUa185ipAOYOm10eMKHl75jBXp1CQTBfP-8FsUnF4u_NXCVWAzb4O-AOlFZkEA/s1600/my+turn1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 152px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495320221004354258" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI0gS7Nr4BFxMes7R3WRuQOBHDke4qSt0V9o5ZAqfjoPBoFK5T29J1cqXzxTutcTweXOvHpYcqCNJ6uqUa185ipAOYOm10eMKHl75jBXp1CQTBfP-8FsUnF4u_NXCVWAzb4O-AOlFZkEA/s200/my+turn1.jpg" /></a></div><br /></div><div>Finally, she finishes, gives me the bowl, and I clean it for her.</div><div> </div><div>I do a really good job!<br /><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgI0gS7Nr4BFxMes7R3WRuQOBHDke4qSt0V9o5ZAqfjoPBoFK5T29J1cqXzxTutcTweXOvHpYcqCNJ6uqUa185ipAOYOm10eMKHl75jBXp1CQTBfP-8FsUnF4u_NXCVWAzb4O-AOlFZkEA/s1600/my+turn1.jpg"></a> </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgK4mwwT1wNRuzPvF3daDQIO_i826Av1_D-8IQGzVwVZfqNr1gMwbaxkyOy5y2I9OyRLTXFdX1SMllDs9WAC_0T1YyEwim9mRlxcFAM4ZLo0sirUeA4X63iOkYTklgkRABUbgcVharars/s1600/my+turn2.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 150px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5495320062862328114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgK4mwwT1wNRuzPvF3daDQIO_i826Av1_D-8IQGzVwVZfqNr1gMwbaxkyOy5y2I9OyRLTXFdX1SMllDs9WAC_0T1YyEwim9mRlxcFAM4ZLo0sirUeA4X63iOkYTklgkRABUbgcVharars/s200/my+turn2.jpg" /></a><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br />Some days there is a lot more salad for me to clean up than others, 'cause sometimes Mom gets full faster than other times - </div><div> </div><div>Today was one of those days when Mom didn't get very full, so I didn't have much cleaning to do.<br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br />Do any of you have cruel torture stories? </div><div> </div><div>Don't even get me STARTED on baths --- they should be outlawed!!</div>Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-14660351247701863582010-07-15T18:28:00.000-07:002010-07-15T18:39:54.330-07:00I got to take a Walkie today!It has been hot, hot, hot, plus <a href="http://sweetfreedom-designs.blogspot.com/">Mom</a> has been kinda sick - but today, even though it was 97 degrees when we left work, it was only 82 when we got home. A cold snap!<br /><br />Mom rushed inside and changed clothes, and asked me if I wanted to go walk with her.<br /><br />Well, duh...!?!<br /><br />So we took off, and I walked so much faster than she did that she had to keep whistling for me (<a href="http://sweetfreedom-designs.blogspot.com/2010/07/doctors-visit-and-new-bracelet.html">she has suddenly quit talking, to everyone - I don't know why</a>. But I know what her whistles mean! I would get very far ahead of her, and she would whistle, so I would kill time by running up to peoples' front doors and peeking in, or checking out their garages if the garage doors were up, or just meeting new friends. I got to meet 4 new friends: a lady who was "weed-whacking," and a man who was shining his truck tires, and a man and a lady who putting their dog in their truck for a ride, and then a nice lady with a toddler - the nice lady called me over (Mom was a long way behind me) - so I pranced over with my leash, and that toddler started screaming bloody murder - and that made his Dad come out of the house, and by then Mom had caught up, and was apologizing because I had "scared the baby", but the Mom and the Dad both knew that the Mom had started it all by calling me over in the first place....<br /><br />But my point is, I got head pats and butt rubs from 4 new friends today!!Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-64558337196032431032010-07-12T11:57:00.001-07:002010-07-12T18:31:23.365-07:00Monday Musings: My favorite place at Mom's shopY'all might remember: I have a <a href="http://bailey-the-goldenretriever.blogspot.com/2009/12/return-of-coneheads-just-in-time-for.html">Sweeeeeeeet set-up at work</a> - a nice comfy king-size bed, in a corner, under a table, so I feel nice and safe and protected! And my toy box is right there, with all my Babies, and my bones, and my balls. And I lie in my bed sometimes (but I prefer to be close to Mom! And sometimes I follow her around and around, and she tells people that I am afraid that she will sneak out some secret back door in the store and leave me there. <strong><em>What?</em></strong> It COULD happen - just because I haven't FOUND a back door yet, doesn't mean there isn't one. I watch horror movies! I know about secret passages!!)<br /><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493098118187959250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTZusk_joR7p50FezbzDPmQ4SA90H_GeZvrSNdXCC2XT4PPI1UGzkQdUk2TBH-w9v-VSfDmYQLZMjpvhhBmLNfB1oGhDLfSln458uLpYjZcil_03Fv1l0Zo7GxWHHrcasjTq7ojdwcWgM/s320/bailey+shop5.jpg" />You can't see my toy box in this picture, because Mom didn't get me a toy box for work until last month - she said my toys were getting out of control!!<br /><div><BR><br />But I digress. When Mom is helping customers, if the shop is pretty busy, with lots of people walking around (especially childrens), I like to go get in my bed, because I was never around lots of people until Mom starting taking me to work with her, and it gets a little overwhelming for me, so I retreat to my safe corner. [I was never around children when I was growing up, and never met any 'til I started working at the bead shop, so they kinda freak me out a little sometimes! ]</div><br /><div></div><BR><br /><div>But my sweet bed is NOT my most favoritist place at work. My favoritist place is behind the counter - especially if there are lots of lots of people in the store (especially childrens) - but I never go behind the counter unless my Mom is back there, because if Mom isn't back there, I can't SEE her, and I have to be able to see her at all times (or she will sneak out the back door!)</div><div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5493096527451398706" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgS7sBrFSVQITjrmHb_AsH_wH0XYA0nXCzdxJKz7TWXaMpDfTEKxEdGm6lfoYVtkSt3gj8cfjXKwmQlaYLlUdVNlQwLdNdP9KrbtDwGb0vhrnaIQ-T-Azx9v5A5Mk1hyh5VYFzyO0YZtFE/s320/i+am+comfy+-+Really.jpg" /></div><BR><div>So when Mom is working behind the counter, I get in the furtherest most corner back there, and curl up and relax. Mom always laughs at me, because it is a very tiny corner, and I always rest my head inside the metal cabinet so that I fit, and Mom tells me that I can't possibly be comfy, but it isn't so bad! </div><div><BR></div><div>And when Mom needs to get the wire, or the crystals (which are in the cabinet behind me) she just steps right over me, and I don't even move. I know she would never step on me! She sometimes says that I am a little bit in the way, but I know she is just kidding, 'cause she is a big kidder like that.</div><div></div><BR><div>And I might have forgotten to tell you: I got a promotion at work! I am now Assistant Manager and Head of The Complaint Department. The way this works is, if someone has a complaint, they are supposed to come whisper it to me, and then I kiss them until they forget about their complaint.</div><BR><div></div><div>Unfortunately, Mom hasn't had any complaints yet, so I haven't gotten to give out any of these complaint kisses. But I do keep an eye out for peoples that bend down to look at the beads on the lower hooks, and I rush over and kiss them before Mom can stop me. She says not everyone likes my kisses.</div><div><BR></div><div>HA! I told you she was a big kidder! </div>Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-35335682553361861032010-07-07T09:04:00.000-07:002010-07-07T18:46:06.925-07:00Not much happenin' hereNot much going on here - Mom says it is the Dog Days of Summer - but I don't see anything particularly "doggy" about them.<br /><br />It is hot hot hot hot hot. And humid. So it is not much fun outside.<br /><br />When I go outside with Mom, I run for my soccer ball and I really want to play soccer with Mom, but by the time I bring the ball to her, I am too hot to play, so I just stand there, holding my ball, and let her rub my butt. Then SHE gets too hot, and tells me it is time to go inside.<br /><br />But she lets me bring my soccer ball inside now, and we play a little bit in the house, but we have to be very careful!<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWO7V55-31zhcQqxeIa8bRzzV5F9ImXAcejrCWO9VKztVMwwua248zU-ZTLpjxFQoIfWl7dywQfOo_MIYDhJswD20tHMWoOlmFIuFvwW-u8YL9H-okanH2rD-BFSTQuuVX1npLS79QEpU/s1600/my+new+ball.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5491195933825953522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWO7V55-31zhcQqxeIa8bRzzV5F9ImXAcejrCWO9VKztVMwwua248zU-ZTLpjxFQoIfWl7dywQfOo_MIYDhJswD20tHMWoOlmFIuFvwW-u8YL9H-okanH2rD-BFSTQuuVX1npLS79QEpU/s320/my+new+ball.jpg" /></a><br />My friend Kathy came to visit me 3 weeks ago, and she stayed for a real long time, and that was a lot of fun. Except one morning Kathy and my Mom left the house when it was still dark outside, and they were gone for a long time, and when the garage door finally opened again, only Kathy was there! She left my Mom somewhere! I was very upset about this.<br /><br />The next day, Kathy left me all alone at the house again, but she came home soon, and she had found my Mom! I was so glad to see her. But Mom didn't feel good, and <a href="http://sweetfreedom-designs.blogspot.com/2010/06/gross-surgery-photos.html">had a boo-boo on her neck</a>, and had to go to bed. She started to feel a little better after a few days, and we are going back to work everyday, but she says she still doesn't feel good enough to take me for walkies. I think it's partly because it is so hot!<br /><br />I survived the bang-bang noises again for another time - this time, our dumb ole neighbors made the bang-bang noises for 2 days in a row! It was scary!<br /><br />I hope you aren't as hot as I am!<br /><br />I am spending a lot of time making new friends on <a href="http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/pages/Bailey-the-Golden-Retriever/117686404938533">FaceBook</a>. Facebook still confuses me, but I am trying!Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-20228217251534508952010-05-30T08:42:00.001-07:002010-05-30T09:10:32.347-07:00I'll try anything, once...I don't know about you guys, but <a href="http://bailey-the-goldenretriever.blogspot.com/2009/01/good-things-come-in-orange-packages.html">I enjoy eating</a>. Good grief - just <a href="http://bailey-the-goldenretriever.blogspot.com/2008/01/i-love-popcorn.html">look at my avatar</a>!<br /><br />Basically, almost anything will do - I'm not real picky, <a href="http://bailey-the-goldenretriever.blogspot.com/2009/08/my-name-is-bailey-and-i-am-poopaholic.html">as you know</a>.<br /><br />Although, there are a few things that I just won't eat - like plain ole dry lettuce. Or <a href="http://bailey-the-goldenretriever.blogspot.com/2009/04/i-went-ptui.html">those bacon thingies</a>.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXA_HJgfKBnES8NuTMQwXrRWVGJIoC9Zdu1iyhk3E6o24DMsf4b3M39q-8Po1LaiNNJ3lnvKNWXPZ7Mh_FmvqmhIfOtTmXak9E2x2JDvnDdYaoKyegcwOVD9tMrotxaqAfTAHLbiHqaDU/s1600/banana+peel.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 242px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477089759288856146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXA_HJgfKBnES8NuTMQwXrRWVGJIoC9Zdu1iyhk3E6o24DMsf4b3M39q-8Po1LaiNNJ3lnvKNWXPZ7Mh_FmvqmhIfOtTmXak9E2x2JDvnDdYaoKyegcwOVD9tMrotxaqAfTAHLbiHqaDU/s320/banana+peel.jpg" /></a><br />Mom had a banana at the store the other day.<br /><br /><br />Naturally, I acted like banana was my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-error">favoritist</span> food EVER!<br /><br /><br />And I told Mom I needed some banana, NOW!<br /><br /><br />But Mom was being all piggy about her banana, and wouldn't give me a single bite.<br /><br /><br />So then I told her that banana PEEL was my <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error">favoritist</span> food EVER in the whole world, and I asked her very politely (I even stood up on my back legs) for the banana peel.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQewkZLSjFdw-jILhovTMgQnptEf2PJvMnb721VF5HLbqh2e-FzbHx3AORNJsN9IgfeiHmNCPjnxyz2gyuk8ED-lkzvOWrnuASREsQ_IpjVgSeC0S4HBniXwnXuRPYnBW3WeZvEAdOm7c/s1600/banana+peel1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 314px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5477089508265594114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQewkZLSjFdw-jILhovTMgQnptEf2PJvMnb721VF5HLbqh2e-FzbHx3AORNJsN9IgfeiHmNCPjnxyz2gyuk8ED-lkzvOWrnuASREsQ_IpjVgSeC0S4HBniXwnXuRPYnBW3WeZvEAdOm7c/s320/banana+peel1.jpg" /></a><br />Mom looked at me like I was crazy, but she handed me the peel.<br /><br />I have never even smelled one before - but since I had put on such a big show about getting this peel, I knew I couldn't spit it out, so I had to act like it was the best treat EVER!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />But you know what - banana peels are not good dog treats.<br /><br />So I had to carry the peel around, and whenever Mom tried to get it away from me, I ducked my head the other way, and acted like I had some great treasure.<br /><br />Mom finally left me alone, and I carried the peel a little while longer so she would know I thought it was special, but then, when she wasn't looking, I dropped it in the middle of the floor in the store.<br /><br /><br />By then, Mom had forgotten about it - and she didn't remember it until a customer came in and saw the peel on the floor. <span id="SPELLING_ERROR_2" class="blsp-spelling-error">Oooops</span>.<br /><br /><br />Mom says that was my last banana peel. That's OK - I will just go find my friend Franklin and get some REAL treats!Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-16047422922992856962010-05-26T10:49:00.001-07:002010-05-26T11:12:17.201-07:00My WeekendFirst of all, Mom did NOT let me use the computer last night, like she promised.<br /><br />She told me that she was watching "Dancing With the Stars", whatever that is, and that my blogging was not going to get in between her and Maks.<br /><br />So she watched TV, and I sat in her lap, but then she suddenly got all mad about something, and turned off the TV, and said "that SUCKS!", and told me no more TV, and no computer. So she read a book.<br /><br />Then she told me after a few minutes that Maks had gotten robbed! Robbing is BAD! I feel very sorry for Maks, whoever he is - Mommy was very mad about his robbery.<br /><br />OK - on to my story.<br /><br />My Mom has not been feeling good for a long time, but I have been taking very good care of her. Really!<br /><br />She blabs and blabs about her problems <a href="http://sweetfreedom-designs.blogspot.com/">over here</a>.<br /><br />Well, evidently, I didn't take good enough care of her, because last Thursday, we were at the shop, and the door opened, and in came <a href="http://bailey-the-goldenretriever.blogspot.com/2010/02/my-best-christmas-present.html">my good friend John</a>. John is one of our friends that we visit in the mountains a lot, and he pats me and rubs me and plays foot-ball with me (that means he and I wrestle my toy balls with his feet when he is sitting in his recliner! It is a fun game!!)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilu2QlzO673JgZfzu1fWNhblHw7q3u7wwCX11xNNyB61MWW8lJOeUkoyt1hQO4O1Xa-SyMbBYdcR3BEQAXxJP33V6zkWjLlVYGsygJLPgb0O3e-NHBJUNuIL3ukW2H9AOd_hSHQ2sIo0o/s1600/Nummy+shop1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 249px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475638499814530050" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilu2QlzO673JgZfzu1fWNhblHw7q3u7wwCX11xNNyB61MWW8lJOeUkoyt1hQO4O1Xa-SyMbBYdcR3BEQAXxJP33V6zkWjLlVYGsygJLPgb0O3e-NHBJUNuIL3ukW2H9AOd_hSHQ2sIo0o/s320/Nummy+shop1.jpg" /></a><br /><br />But here is the problem:<br /><br />John brought my arch-nemesis, Nummy, with him!<br /><br /><br /><br />Look at her prancing around my store like she owns the place!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH2Oxl2fo0gyKp4xG5bRLHZVfl1BJA9T7Yy3T7OSWw0AYqD8l5ZmL5otpA23u0WQKB-Q-No8pLT191vtaZW-gp67iAanJo2OD4ebfywCgFZI20pjAYptLvJSvC14PieEWAT1gD4pdgFrg/s1600/Bailey-Nummy+4.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 218px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475638343858503842" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH2Oxl2fo0gyKp4xG5bRLHZVfl1BJA9T7Yy3T7OSWw0AYqD8l5ZmL5otpA23u0WQKB-Q-No8pLT191vtaZW-gp67iAanJo2OD4ebfywCgFZI20pjAYptLvJSvC14PieEWAT1gD4pdgFrg/s320/Bailey-Nummy+4.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br />She just took over!<br /><br />I tried to mind my own business, but she was everywhere!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiinKtR6cibAWa_0Q1h0yqWObETrwww3Iv2hP9a7axV_Jgq20CFQ33dt1j7xhF4ypdQwC0hK0Mky2Wdhgg_JE10sWcJvYD8KsiGv42hTL-Vr2hGk4hHZP8mpOn-Bp1H3fkf2ioTHNopBfc/s1600/Bailey-Nummy+1.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475638076754547906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiinKtR6cibAWa_0Q1h0yqWObETrwww3Iv2hP9a7axV_Jgq20CFQ33dt1j7xhF4ypdQwC0hK0Mky2Wdhgg_JE10sWcJvYD8KsiGv42hTL-Vr2hGk4hHZP8mpOn-Bp1H3fkf2ioTHNopBfc/s320/Bailey-Nummy+1.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /> Look at her licking her lips - just thinking of ways to pester me!<br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHbK2A3KttcKOzAqEH7EpVFMzDPgTd7mLFKpbEncwqLaLf31lAargGsymFAELMwLcWVu2An-Ns72qf3ErwHz1Rz5Ycw6IwpzRizhIgY7q4g3dldwt7Oy2f-vaA6o5_5N15sZD2wkm0tsA/s1600/Bailey-Nummy+3.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: left; HEIGHT: 240px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475637943335117874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHbK2A3KttcKOzAqEH7EpVFMzDPgTd7mLFKpbEncwqLaLf31lAargGsymFAELMwLcWVu2An-Ns72qf3ErwHz1Rz5Ycw6IwpzRizhIgY7q4g3dldwt7Oy2f-vaA6o5_5N15sZD2wkm0tsA/s320/Bailey-Nummy+3.jpg" /></a><br />I bet you think she looks all innocent and sweet, huh?</div><div> </div><div>Well, she isn't.</div><div> </div><div>She steals my toys, and I share my food with her all the time, but if I try to take a bite of HER food, she turns into a snarling Tasmanian devil.</div><div> </div><div>Seriously- she chases me all over my own house, trying to protect her precious food!<br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBXGpslYlNvnznlLFi8yf-GcnMw7asIq38yOpZtQIlEG66A-nkLGUFFTQkVWihfbGoLhXjauiTAK5gUHjjnaytaQH-8p-g3nfH0e7NTp5UJ8s4aWHAR4IXlYTCo17QUM1-p7V-40fwBgM/s1600/Nummy+shop4.jpg"><img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 245px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5475637541234731170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBXGpslYlNvnznlLFi8yf-GcnMw7asIq38yOpZtQIlEG66A-nkLGUFFTQkVWihfbGoLhXjauiTAK5gUHjjnaytaQH-8p-g3nfH0e7NTp5UJ8s4aWHAR4IXlYTCo17QUM1-p7V-40fwBgM/s320/Nummy+shop4.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br />Look at Nummy, doing MY job, watching for customers and delivery men.<br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /><br /> </div><div></div><div><br /><br />And this is an absolutely true story:</div><div> </div><div>One night, we went to Chic-Fil-A after work. John was driving Mom's car, and he was holding Princess Nummy. I was in the back seat, as usual. Mom was on the passenger side.</div><div> </div><div>When we got to the window, Mom reminded John that he had to roll down my window so I could talk to the peoples at the drive-in window, so John rolled it down.</div><div> </div><div>But then, he asked the peoples at the drive-in window if they had any treats for cute dogs, and 3 pretty girls all stuck their heads out the window, ooh-ing and aah-ing over that devil-dog Nummy, and saying how cute she is, and then apologizing for not having any treats for her.</div><div> </div><div>What am I? Chopped Liver?</div><div> </div><div>So my Mom leaned over and told them they had hurt my feelings, and one of them said, "Well, he has cute eyes".</div><div> </div><div>Hmmmph. Cute eyes. </div><div> </div><div>John and Nummy went home yesterday. I miss John.</div>Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-58845145765116095262010-05-25T11:40:00.000-07:002010-05-25T11:43:41.436-07:00Facebook!I have a ton of stuff to tell you guys, but Mom left the dumb-ole camera at home, and what is all my news without the pics? BOring - that's what.<br /><br />So instead, here is today's big announcement!<br /><br />I am on <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Bailey-the-Golden-Retriever/117686404938533">Facebook</a>!<br /><br />Come visit me, and be my FaceBook Friend! Hope to see you soon.<br /><br />And hopefully when I get home tonight, Mom will let me blog my news about what she did to me this weekend.......Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-16396663441732078102010-05-16T17:18:00.000-07:002010-05-16T18:40:14.245-07:00So Here's the DealRemember <a href="http://bailey-the-goldenretriever.blogspot.com/2010/05/guess-who.html">my awesome idea to stop eating dogfood so I could spend all day eating delicious treats from the deli near my Mom's store</a>?<br /><br /><br />And remember how that idea kinda backfired, 'cause my Mom told the deli man that I could not have any more deli treats?<br /><br /><br />Well, Mom and Franklin (that's the nice man that owns the deli) worked out a deal, where if I eat my breakfast, I can have a little bit of treats from Franklin.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8F-cexNjF5Hd7j6WzS1N_5snQ_n1RwynuSy3Ap7UtnLIX2sPE1mV7NpeFedN5y9uNqXmhtV556XAId1UuakU0vcW0dHDxll5cDNKqHJ6aHdtvBrVSTu-mvOWiRQw8_iCSHq-JQobi_Mw/s1600/waiting+1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472030153069739442" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8F-cexNjF5Hd7j6WzS1N_5snQ_n1RwynuSy3Ap7UtnLIX2sPE1mV7NpeFedN5y9uNqXmhtV556XAId1UuakU0vcW0dHDxll5cDNKqHJ6aHdtvBrVSTu-mvOWiRQw8_iCSHq-JQobi_Mw/s200/waiting+1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />If you remember, the deli is right on the way to my potty spot. As a matter of fact, it is right next to my potty spot.<br /><br />And it is a long way from Mom's shop - this photo shows a picture taken about about 3 shops away from the deli, and about 4 or 5 shops past my Mom's shop. I am standing in front of the deli. See all that pine straw just past me? There is a long stretch of pine straw and bushes going alongside the deli there - and that is a great private spot for all my doggy business!<br /><br />When I tell my Mom that I need to go out, I always mean it ('cause I would never tell a lie!), but I have now started telling her I need to go out for different reasons! Only Mom doesn't speak Golden Retriever so good, 'cause she always thinks I am telling her it is potty time, and she can't understand how I could possibly need to go potty every 20 minutes!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7KFkzRi0llxdtP2dCG8GIyacoUjkDdcJsCnUN-eh_k3l3cZH_AU2ZpILTX4HdPZ_hvHV-FoCUhyphenhyphenXH1YyLHb0p6c9wJC65UtooigdJS-Sbmt7H11GuTywRfu7fRr0Rr_JNEtLsSkFDa9Q/s1600/waiting6.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472029890331022850" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7KFkzRi0llxdtP2dCG8GIyacoUjkDdcJsCnUN-eh_k3l3cZH_AU2ZpILTX4HdPZ_hvHV-FoCUhyphenhyphenXH1YyLHb0p6c9wJC65UtooigdJS-Sbmt7H11GuTywRfu7fRr0Rr_JNEtLsSkFDa9Q/s200/waiting6.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />So Mom gets my leash, and her sunglasses, and her silly-looking dumb old hat, and her keys, and opens the door. I scoot out and start trotting toward the potty spot while she is locking the store door, and she finally starts following me, and most of the time I just stop in front of the deli, and stand there.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNRnymI4s7S5hgY0qKC7lH9RbFG5qVQmvCwJN_kP7bCq_0v0-maOdHOj0dB7OVkMJ-9U2ELrqUwauRXoNM60C8bfUPs47d0b0Jlfn0odmz9J7trwEogTvHvoR1oa5hjN80mCofcnA_4YQ/s1600/waiting4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472029745952490034" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNRnymI4s7S5hgY0qKC7lH9RbFG5qVQmvCwJN_kP7bCq_0v0-maOdHOj0dB7OVkMJ-9U2ELrqUwauRXoNM60C8bfUPs47d0b0Jlfn0odmz9J7trwEogTvHvoR1oa5hjN80mCofcnA_4YQ/s200/waiting4.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />And stand there.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuBZisDDeDDRGhmdIWm-lO7jW-Dwyi6sP2RggeOIxg8u5OwWAIKcgCE2JwPzg_MvKgpd2Ty2j_Ued0b1fyay5FlwHiGFGhej4CKDPHwOE5L22j3yJFbC1KsXGbbt4k5TA9jrFHwf0f7Do/s1600/waiting2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472029270247330082" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuBZisDDeDDRGhmdIWm-lO7jW-Dwyi6sP2RggeOIxg8u5OwWAIKcgCE2JwPzg_MvKgpd2Ty2j_Ued0b1fyay5FlwHiGFGhej4CKDPHwOE5L22j3yJFbC1KsXGbbt4k5TA9jrFHwf0f7Do/s200/waiting2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />And stand there.<br /><br /><br />See, if Mom doesn't have any customers at the time, and she sees that I was only "mooching for meat" as she calls it, she stops at "Montego Bay", which is a really nice store with comfy chairs outside, and pretty plants outside, and really really nice peoples there, and she sits down and starts running her mouth with all the nice peoples, and keeps one eye on me, and one eye on her store, in case a customer comes.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghky2LVIzTPJl-SEd3-GufSZ_Ip538BhcIeYRhVn0cx-LNBkEzg0dVrmIFyMJagf-LZQ3nfV1ptNEEfU-43T1AV10utfWsYzUKXrMBPvt2QpoTTgd9ozxhHX54rmZh8X-__hBAg4iqps0/s1600/waiting+-+and+checking+on+Mom.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472029052124564498" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghky2LVIzTPJl-SEd3-GufSZ_Ip538BhcIeYRhVn0cx-LNBkEzg0dVrmIFyMJagf-LZQ3nfV1ptNEEfU-43T1AV10utfWsYzUKXrMBPvt2QpoTTgd9ozxhHX54rmZh8X-__hBAg4iqps0/s200/waiting+-+and+checking+on+Mom.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Every once in a while I check to make sure Mom is OK, but mostly I just stare inside the deli windows, sending thought-rays at Franklin.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigw6Eam5PslAKM6bihSc5phv-pls8y69J5N2jLVm7TM5LYEneYKe3BbhdW2fyLgPnOB0gDZE-bml8KoVlWtjRBVKzKBurdj21SmZBrPC62V_hB54p3d_L15fPXLTsX6p2vmdWpIWcK2LE/s1600/waiting5.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472028901560191442" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigw6Eam5PslAKM6bihSc5phv-pls8y69J5N2jLVm7TM5LYEneYKe3BbhdW2fyLgPnOB0gDZE-bml8KoVlWtjRBVKzKBurdj21SmZBrPC62V_hB54p3d_L15fPXLTsX6p2vmdWpIWcK2LE/s200/waiting5.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />More thought-rays.<br /><br /><br />Sometimes, my thought-rays are so powerful that cars pull up to the deli, and people open the door and go inside, and I scoot right on in behind them!<br /><br />That makes Mom jump up out of her Montego Bay chair and run run run to the deli and haul my hienie right out of there. You guys should see my Mom run. In her dumb old floppy hat. She is a hoot!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghrzA5uk55_XiijZJf4CGMYQ1X4AKpD-L4eg_b6LxLilyLGRqKQOn-lFbW_z-643B16UYX_memAPoSNZOOKkfRnFzWowHTPoKJ6RuEaLjMi9ksttOPo2ljfobwwIYnXZMhYMQM8JpjjaU/s1600/bailey+butcher1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472028430434491218" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 165px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghrzA5uk55_XiijZJf4CGMYQ1X4AKpD-L4eg_b6LxLilyLGRqKQOn-lFbW_z-643B16UYX_memAPoSNZOOKkfRnFzWowHTPoKJ6RuEaLjMi9ksttOPo2ljfobwwIYnXZMhYMQM8JpjjaU/s200/bailey+butcher1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Naturally, my super-powerful thought-rays ultimately work (they never fail!), and Franklin opens the door, and comes out to greet and treat me!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqxLxV0iSUQUMp933OB_NoedVOe_aXXSs_-8ckMjyTK0rSLWy3lNhGE3w-qen2R7BI3RzPdG9dJGrRDENyIz-1Bx9ZIuWjVAS8yWAB1dT8texLGuJdneNj2_Bhrp5VUjBMufQUM5buaRk/s1600/yay.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472028200075994450" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqxLxV0iSUQUMp933OB_NoedVOe_aXXSs_-8ckMjyTK0rSLWy3lNhGE3w-qen2R7BI3RzPdG9dJGrRDENyIz-1Bx9ZIuWjVAS8yWAB1dT8texLGuJdneNj2_Bhrp5VUjBMufQUM5buaRk/s200/yay.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />At first, I am so excited to see <del>the treat</del> Franklin that I jump up and dance!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAbVsEk5fl_Qj8tIfGMZz-AU-Z_V9bdIUl12KxHzvGyN7Gk0Y8Bl3FkiS-Yh8m0f51_EpE3BI11uIx3apoNLwsxPsEACBS7FqlUfXCg49H5iffGyXMzK4Sp49oeTo9vrVnCKbh71tX9Hg/s1600/finally1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5472027937207326674" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 150px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAbVsEk5fl_Qj8tIfGMZz-AU-Z_V9bdIUl12KxHzvGyN7Gk0Y8Bl3FkiS-Yh8m0f51_EpE3BI11uIx3apoNLwsxPsEACBS7FqlUfXCg49H5iffGyXMzK4Sp49oeTo9vrVnCKbh71tX9Hg/s200/finally1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />But I quickly remember my manners, and Franklin gives me something yummy!<br /><br />And he gives me lots of pats and rubs, too!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Every day Franklin asks my Mom if I ate my breakfast, and makes sure she says yes before he gives me any treats, so now I am a good breakfast eater again.<br /><br />Except that now, I have been refusing to eat my breakfast in the kitchen, so Mom is taking it out on the deck, and I am eating <em>al fresco</em>. I love being outside!<br /><br /><br />And here's a little something for everyone who has read this really long story:<br />My Mom is holding a secret sale in <a href="http://www.etsy.com/shop/SweetFreedom">her Etsy shop</a> just for all my bloggy friends - if you visit her shop and see something you love, she will give you 10% off the regular price. All you have to do is, when you are checking out, look for the box that says "message to seller", and just type "Bailey is my friend" in the box. [You'll have to pay the regular price when you check out, but Mom will refund 10% of the item price (not counting the postage) back into your PayPal account]. But hurry - Mom says this sale ends on June 1!Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-7766921582463140782010-05-13T13:27:00.000-07:002010-05-13T13:33:11.946-07:00My Mom asks for a moment of your timeI have a lot of fun stuff to tell you, but Mom says it has to wait - she would like you to take a look at these 2 posts from her blog, and see if this stuff if happening to you like it is to us.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://sweetfreedom-designs.blogspot.com/2010/04/is-it-just-me.html">Is it just Me?</a> and her follow up post <a href="http://sweetfreedom-designs.blogspot.com/2010/05/evidently-it-is-not-just-me.html">Evidently, it is NOT just me</a>.<br /><br />My Mom says thanks!<br /><br />She also says that <strong><span style="font-size:130%;">if</span></strong> it is happening to any of you, make sure you don't publish the posts OR click on any of the links, 'cause bad things will happen!!Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-20670935302802769502010-05-02T09:04:00.000-07:002010-05-03T14:43:26.453-07:00Guess Who??!Did you guess? It's ME!!!!!<br /><p>I'm back! Sorry to be gone for so long.</p><p></p><p>Yesterday was my birthday (now I am 11!) Mom told me that I have not been blogging very much, and I have a ton of stuff to tell you!<br /><br /><br /></p>Remember when I told you that <a href="http://bailey-the-goldenretriever.blogspot.com/2009/12/yall-will-never-believe-this.html">Mom takes me to work with her</a>?<br /><br /><br />Well, I stay very, very busy these days!<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://sweetfreedom-designs.blogspot.com/">Mom's store</a> is in a pretty business center, with about 7 big, long buildings full of stores and all kinds of businesses (like restaurants!).<br /><br /><br />Every morning when we get to work (except some mornings when Mom oversleeps) we walk all around the shopping complex TWO times, so that everyone can know that we are at work now! (Mom says we are <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8JwuMmNTeu74PiM0x72zy6LQxblt-wMyX9MpXiy0JiOu_HzAogN3RDcxTqSyIWJXzwrYMmDwYv9v_jSdXxuS6bwcAr5suHIa4uI-IxJ410eZdMtf6JBnjNjW7zEy-pMZtzIRqQX4qulU/s1600/walking+at+work.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466714056687179218" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8JwuMmNTeu74PiM0x72zy6LQxblt-wMyX9MpXiy0JiOu_HzAogN3RDcxTqSyIWJXzwrYMmDwYv9v_jSdXxuS6bwcAr5suHIa4uI-IxJ410eZdMtf6JBnjNjW7zEy-pMZtzIRqQX4qulU/s200/walking+at+work.jpg" border="0" /></a>walking for exercise. She says potato, I say potatah. Whatever). Naturally, I carry my own leash, 'cause Mom walks too slow. And I get very very far ahead of her, but if it is time to turn a corner, I stop and wait for her, because I like to keep one eye on Mom!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />We have been having some really nice weather, so at the time of the morning that we are walking, lots of stores have their doors propped open so that I can walk in and make sure everything is safe, and that everyone know I am there! (Mom says the doors are open to get fresh air. Whatever.) All I know is, everyone is always glad to see me, and gives me lots of pats and rubs! Whenever I see an open door, I start to run, and scoot inside the open door! I have to run, because sometimes the open door leads into a restaurant, and for some reason, Mom does not want me to go in restaurants, and she starts to run really fast to try to block me from getting in those doors. Seeing my Mom run is funny!!<br /><br /><br />Everyone at the shopping center likes to see me walking, and they think it is funny that I carry my own leash. Lots of people take pictures of me, and one lady always comes out to greet me, and one day she took my picture, and the next day she told my Mom that now I am on Facebook. I do not know what that means.<br /><br /><br />After our walk, we open up the store, and then my job is to greet all the customers! That is a lot of fun, and more pats and rubs for me! And I get a lot of treats, too, 'cause Mo<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8GyqTxDzJBo000H_uEkk8KVQNCiuu9i8qoGcvTv74btOq9n9dz5fjwTCieYnHYNjn27SP6MSXZmZ2dql3Y8uWnS7WtQfFEgQyyT9-EaYtH_Vxu8jnLJPGX7TtGZ2Thfjq2nax2B-U7NQ/s1600/greeter.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466714296737845554" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8GyqTxDzJBo000H_uEkk8KVQNCiuu9i8qoGcvTv74btOq9n9dz5fjwTCieYnHYNjn27SP6MSXZmZ2dql3Y8uWnS7WtQfFEgQyyT9-EaYtH_Vxu8jnLJPGX7TtGZ2Thfjq2nax2B-U7NQ/s200/greeter.jpg" border="0" /></a>m keeps a big jar of treats on the table for customers to give me!<br /><br /><br />This is me saying goodbye to a really nice lady that was buying beads at the store at Christmas time.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I also keep an eye out for delivery trucks, and let Mom know when more beads are coming to the shop!<br /><br /><br />When things are really quiet in the store, with no customers, and no deliveries, and Mom is working with her stupid beads instead of playing with me, I lie down beside her with my Baby.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWWZfQUCY324F5g3coKIonhQPsXtMCURD1syMZGyOMTOBBy_70z4SJCM4zGChnYudSrhcvhWxdVLUJziq7-dWsIFiulweY9M4wkg6AMw6b5aGmWH2JqTDFrOPQvF_vskokhyphenhyphenxvp1A7rE0/s1600/poor+piggy.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466713173595296850" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWWZfQUCY324F5g3coKIonhQPsXtMCURD1syMZGyOMTOBBy_70z4SJCM4zGChnYudSrhcvhWxdVLUJziq7-dWsIFiulweY9M4wkg6AMw6b5aGmWH2JqTDFrOPQvF_vskokhyphenhyphenxvp1A7rE0/s200/poor+piggy.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br />Remember how sad it was <a href="http://bailey-the-goldenretriever.blogspot.com/2009/08/toxic-dog-hair-truth.html">when my poor piggy Baby fell apart suddenly</a>?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Well, Mom got me a new piggy baby to love at her store, and I have started lying down with piggy baby covering my head. Mom always goes "Awww" when I do this. She doesn't kn<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1rveCWgY8YJN_oXMxYNXvtrO_4FhxycsXmuBG96YNB-5_iys7HAAnZgtaSNS8L-KXQSoFLSy8vI8IUU6DA9ZbfMJSOp8InaP8JtJErSTq7jmMUho4O6A5kLtvTIV1qebcUbkBMVhdTJY/s1600/baby+at+work.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466712834009534674" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1rveCWgY8YJN_oXMxYNXvtrO_4FhxycsXmuBG96YNB-5_iys7HAAnZgtaSNS8L-KXQSoFLSy8vI8IUU6DA9ZbfMJSOp8InaP8JtJErSTq7jmMUho4O6A5kLtvTIV1qebcUbkBMVhdTJY/s200/baby+at+work.jpg" border="0" /></a>ow why I do it at the store, but I don't cover my head with my babies at home.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />And about a month ago, when Mom and I were doing our walkies, Mom noticed th<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR2ScVIoWf-TvwFLXzt5iLz1j7Urw4kd6ECFe9LdI67aPELsuEJGfNxsKZi3EyEFLDgk4PM0hWWMxZnOrKanO14mMY50_lpnQoj-tmSyaUmxPrnb-6fxW5Be13fWdtBeoFFSDhU8_SSJU/s1600/pollen+prints.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5466712580088564258" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR2ScVIoWf-TvwFLXzt5iLz1j7Urw4kd6ECFe9LdI67aPELsuEJGfNxsKZi3EyEFLDgk4PM0hWWMxZnOrKanO14mMY50_lpnQoj-tmSyaUmxPrnb-6fxW5Be13fWdtBeoFFSDhU8_SSJU/s200/pollen+prints.jpg" border="0" /></a>at I was leaving footprints all over the sidewalks! Lots of other peoples noticed, too, and would tell my Mom that they could tell I had been there, 'cause they saw my footprints! But no peoples were leaving footprints -- only me!<br /><br /><br />Wanna know why? It's 'cause of pollen! We had inches and inches of pollen covering the ground. Our nice green sidewalks were not green anymore - they were bright yellow. And every time I put my feet down, a big yellow cloud puffed up! We finally got some rain, and all the pollen is gone now.<br /><br /><br />There is a German deli just a few doors down from my Mom's store, and it is on the way to the place where I go potty. There is a really nice strip of grass with a lot of bushes and stuff at the end of our building, and it is perfect for me. Every time it is time for me to go potty, I walk really really fast towards the potty place - way faster than Mom (duh! She is slow). And Mom thinks I am running to go potty, but actually I am just going to the deli - I stand outside its door, holding me leash, and lots of time (if they don't have customers) they see me, and come outside with treats! Yum!! And when customers come out of the deli with bags of goodies, I follow them to their cars, sniffing their bags. Mom hates when I do this.<br /><br /><br />Last week I started refusing to eat the nice breakfast that Mom fixes me every morning before go to work. Mom thinks I was doing this so I would have more room for deli treats! She told the nice deli man to stop giving me treats.... that was mean. Now I have to eat dogfood again.Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-59198603571196782822010-03-18T09:46:00.000-07:002010-03-18T09:53:43.020-07:00Well, I went to the doctor...I had to go to my doctor for a check-up on Monday.<br /><br />She is the very same doctor I have had ever since I was a baby, and she is a very nice lady.<br /><br />But I think she was very confused on Monday, because she kept calling me "Jerry" instead of Bailey. "Jerry this," and "Jerry that." Oh yeah - I remember - she was calling me "Jerry Atric". That is a weird name.<br /><br />My Mom told her I was not "Jerry Atric", but my doctor insisted. And then she drew some blood from my leg for tests, and she gave me a paw-dicure, and told me I was a good boy (duh) and sent me home.<br /><br />The next day, she called my Mom and told me all my tests were OK, and my Mom told her again that I was not "Jerry Atric", and the doctor laughed and said "Well, keep thinking that, and maybe he will stay healthy."<br /><br />Humans are strange sometimes.Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-88573179936907780732010-03-07T16:04:00.001-08:002010-03-07T16:18:04.745-08:00We got SNOW!I am so far behind on my blog! Sorry, everyone - things have been really crazy here! <div> </div><div>I have lots and lots to tell you, but this post is all about my very biggest news ever!<br /></div><div>We got snow! Tons and tons of snow!<br /><br />We <strong>never</strong> get snow!</div><div> </div><div>This happened a few weeks ago. It started snowing while Mom and I were still at work, so we left early, so we could play in the snow at our house.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5vZqrfgY2fto5AWd8yHOoNeEjalxFECVkVLJqfYBIdznqnjcWvoAcV-1654KR5gh6ZV0zZLa96zj0Fi7UeMnNKHdk9gNv2MaYhZU3OKTkNS7hDDGPHLj01BhANCgL2SVujXNxgp7aWr8/s1600-h/wheres+my+soccer+ball.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446048453324953714" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5vZqrfgY2fto5AWd8yHOoNeEjalxFECVkVLJqfYBIdznqnjcWvoAcV-1654KR5gh6ZV0zZLa96zj0Fi7UeMnNKHdk9gNv2MaYhZU3OKTkNS7hDDGPHLj01BhANCgL2SVujXNxgp7aWr8/s200/wheres+my+soccer+ball.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Naturally, I wanted to play soccer, but I couldn't find my soccer ball anywhere.</div><div> </div><div>Mom finally helped me find it.<br /></div><div><br /></div><div> </div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirR7KDYt6qTGiYSswvTb70qdL5TJD5g2DiIlNv0zN010e9qhG_LSZNxK7trc7LWD6LcIJnuOnZq2HquBHdSlJ2KVE-a6f8Q86x7MLi2uMfPL_mQd6orszFLQb02oWUcQdqWM9gBCOh-3M/s1600-h/theres+my+soccer+ball.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446048263378500866" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirR7KDYt6qTGiYSswvTb70qdL5TJD5g2DiIlNv0zN010e9qhG_LSZNxK7trc7LWD6LcIJnuOnZq2HquBHdSlJ2KVE-a6f8Q86x7MLi2uMfPL_mQd6orszFLQb02oWUcQdqWM9gBCOh-3M/s200/theres+my+soccer+ball.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><div> </div><div><div>See me pushing my soccer ball out of the deep snow?<br /><br /><br />I think this is when I discovered that snow is kinda tasty!<br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGBpLwUTa1MnQlrbVeq1yABUNYkE5xMhZOi_Tyoa83zT0owL6Z3v4wro9gEmAdmxxKM-5n7GSgwNbIpXKtMB5gsuLTBlSVEpsiwQ4YAv0_OcmhQfpSGbpgWEC3ly6PdmD0qtvRwzxp4tU/s1600-h/morning+soccer.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446048113628867986" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGBpLwUTa1MnQlrbVeq1yABUNYkE5xMhZOi_Tyoa83zT0owL6Z3v4wro9gEmAdmxxKM-5n7GSgwNbIpXKtMB5gsuLTBlSVEpsiwQ4YAv0_OcmhQfpSGbpgWEC3ly6PdmD0qtvRwzxp4tU/s200/morning+soccer.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /></div><div>Mom and I played a lot of snow-soccer.<br /></div><div><br />It was a lot of fun! But I got really wet and cold, so I finally told Mom it was time to go inside.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRt78YcCJkM9QOfte1YeIulYmxAzgWtMRDkrxj6txdS8Gy74AuxodLMvtrskS5jd7Qh-KvMR-MuzfU9auALnDNA457NkMvcXjzozLBGR8HhAcDskHqNUtVr2r_tHWPw2LyOmEFiyodswU/s1600-h/bailey+eats+breakfast+al+fresco+2-13-2010.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446047953152687922" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRt78YcCJkM9QOfte1YeIulYmxAzgWtMRDkrxj6txdS8Gy74AuxodLMvtrskS5jd7Qh-KvMR-MuzfU9auALnDNA457NkMvcXjzozLBGR8HhAcDskHqNUtVr2r_tHWPw2LyOmEFiyodswU/s200/bailey+eats+breakfast+al+fresco+2-13-2010.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The next morning, the snow was still there, and I wanted to play in it.<br /><br /></div><div>Mom wanted me to eat breakfast, but I would not come back inside, so she finally brought my breakfast outside. That was a great idea!<br /></div><div><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK3kbZ-bpK3VWXqBuVyJdc7h-EV3NcUSHgtUGVXUrU70dQS43keyWzPnCQT1DN8pohCVzG-FOEDLjge_cSPeNElLHOcQ-oFrCn21TyoQjs8vwCjgWn3n90Vct9kOk4HtW7uokvRK1s63Y/s1600-h/breakfast+al+fresco+2-13-10.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446047720927377746" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK3kbZ-bpK3VWXqBuVyJdc7h-EV3NcUSHgtUGVXUrU70dQS43keyWzPnCQT1DN8pohCVzG-FOEDLjge_cSPeNElLHOcQ-oFrCn21TyoQjs8vwCjgWn3n90Vct9kOk4HtW7uokvRK1s63Y/s200/breakfast+al+fresco+2-13-10.jpg" border="0" /></a></p><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><br />Did you guys ever get to eat outside? It is really fun!<br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK3kbZ-bpK3VWXqBuVyJdc7h-EV3NcUSHgtUGVXUrU70dQS43keyWzPnCQT1DN8pohCVzG-FOEDLjge_cSPeNElLHOcQ-oFrCn21TyoQjs8vwCjgWn3n90Vct9kOk4HtW7uokvRK1s63Y/s1600-h/breakfast+al+fresco+2-13-10.jpg"></a> </p><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw3rBGZbM57WgGBJwILSZ5-cPDZiX_PT7s1w8QL-4pyCnz4aGrZwgU2IZ88EcSFjr-jpKX4PkQUt9SVHL9yhVSRNzuoANEmslBDVo_UyU8pRxkpwNmFFXS7ZQa7zoBgtOnHTLilg1QJPI/s1600-h/yellow+snow.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5446047353259169298" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw3rBGZbM57WgGBJwILSZ5-cPDZiX_PT7s1w8QL-4pyCnz4aGrZwgU2IZ88EcSFjr-jpKX4PkQUt9SVHL9yhVSRNzuoANEmslBDVo_UyU8pRxkpwNmFFXS7ZQa7zoBgtOnHTLilg1QJPI/s200/yellow+snow.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /></div><p></p><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw3rBGZbM57WgGBJwILSZ5-cPDZiX_PT7s1w8QL-4pyCnz4aGrZwgU2IZ88EcSFjr-jpKX4PkQUt9SVHL9yhVSRNzuoANEmslBDVo_UyU8pRxkpwNmFFXS7ZQa7zoBgtOnHTLilg1QJPI/s1600-h/yellow+snow.jpg"></a> </div><br /><br />After I ate breakfast, I made the snow yellow!<br /><br /></div><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjK3kbZ-bpK3VWXqBuVyJdc7h-EV3NcUSHgtUGVXUrU70dQS43keyWzPnCQT1DN8pohCVzG-FOEDLjge_cSPeNElLHOcQ-oFrCn21TyoQjs8vwCjgWn3n90Vct9kOk4HtW7uokvRK1s63Y/s1600-h/breakfast+al+fresco+2-13-10.jpg"></a> </p></div>Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-30673504325324298972010-02-01T14:16:00.000-08:002010-02-05T18:57:44.086-08:00My best Christmas Present!Back before <a href="http://bailey-the-goldenretriever.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-learned-what-pool-is.html">I jumped into the swimming pool</a>, Mom and I drove up up up the mountain to visit our friends John and Kathy for Christmas.<br /><br />I was worried that Santa would not know where to find me!<br /><br />But I didn't have to worry, because when I got there, the first thing I saw was my brand new chair! It is perfect for me! Mom thought it might be for her, but I quickly showed her!<br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433403370296101074" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 233px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpSX5r3b3_9l_ogswp2sXrgdNMMAIxmS3OezJnLkhKRFPT-xhW18yJZFVzD8r2PoKTiUqtPcENPIKvOlWZujB7jEs7IQnxX30iNID9AT55wHkzGcUS-XFQXDyz1n7oKjnMxBnTHpZNCuk/s320/new+chair+from+Santa.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br />It has a pillow on top, in case I decide I want a pillow. And it has a sheet to collect all my valuable dog hairs!<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis6VcB-CEi1jreiBlU9jjYl2jCKB4sAx1bfkdpaSb9IQ5KTek7sCigryP0eDhBhdkzPwcG_Nends0NHdrGMHSfApsYIfKm8oX_y3KZ0YTha2qxdxXNaIpoZ-HlDNwb6cWe5EcLMXlorYg/s1600-h/nappin+in+my+new+chair.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433403143358159522" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis6VcB-CEi1jreiBlU9jjYl2jCKB4sAx1bfkdpaSb9IQ5KTek7sCigryP0eDhBhdkzPwcG_Nends0NHdrGMHSfApsYIfKm8oX_y3KZ0YTha2qxdxXNaIpoZ-HlDNwb6cWe5EcLMXlorYg/s200/nappin+in+my+new+chair.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />See how comfy it is for naps?<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />And it has plenty of room for me AND all my toys!<br /><br /><br />This is the <a href="http://bailey-the-goldenretriever.blogspot.com/2010/01/happy-new-year.html">new ball</a> Santa brought me at my house right before we drove up here.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYzpfpKOgki_9-28wY4PIXKI0bqORcyEUtem730gpndWnjNHzrhytZWy9b6t2ZHz-dpoKy6PmgV52EpAnorFcOfVZQ2RX3CgcBhW7JpB6iQSV3Vukax9tgZQm5vqbolY6SIA9UI6rWgW4/s1600-h/old+chair+-+too+small.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433402706750252546" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 204px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 152px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYzpfpKOgki_9-28wY4PIXKI0bqORcyEUtem730gpndWnjNHzrhytZWy9b6t2ZHz-dpoKy6PmgV52EpAnorFcOfVZQ2RX3CgcBhW7JpB6iQSV3Vukax9tgZQm5vqbolY6SIA9UI6rWgW4/s200/old+chair+-+too+small.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><br /><br />Just to refresh your memory, this is the old chair I used to sit in at Kathy and John's house - see how tiny it was!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><br /></div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIwjoOrQ08RYw_D4kBL7k3TqOSvkfX0nmgYUrCLzvrxBnUTdYOct1A20I9d-w0UhAAaYpn2W9kSFNdJEQi98HaimnahtX1qHBHW4k9l5bYR1RZE60Z9CINmXZcO-huYYdP4aKRCAPK9Mw/s1600-h/does+this+chair+make+my+nose+look+big.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433402900960246354" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 170px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIwjoOrQ08RYw_D4kBL7k3TqOSvkfX0nmgYUrCLzvrxBnUTdYOct1A20I9d-w0UhAAaYpn2W9kSFNdJEQi98HaimnahtX1qHBHW4k9l5bYR1RZE60Z9CINmXZcO-huYYdP4aKRCAPK9Mw/s200/does+this+chair+make+my+nose+look+big.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />It even made my nose look big!<br /><br />Tiny chair!<br /><br />I love my new chair. I let John sit in it when I am not there. Because that is how generous I am!Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-42937936026695562822010-01-24T15:30:00.000-08:002010-01-24T17:28:58.245-08:00I Can Haz Cheezburger, too!<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEmGE0tBaZE9eJ-cOk9xhn9gb5ZBBIXB-AlGopTY1XffL_tTDUnZ-gRkOXz6svrKYXzcRKhAyV91on5S4uERinFbLaDVv8E9ebPqMFUWF0sxNjp0TyIKdcrfn2fHi8YZ5bhiu72oTChLM/s1600-h/cheeseburger.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430453940046178450" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEmGE0tBaZE9eJ-cOk9xhn9gb5ZBBIXB-AlGopTY1XffL_tTDUnZ-gRkOXz6svrKYXzcRKhAyV91on5S4uERinFbLaDVv8E9ebPqMFUWF0sxNjp0TyIKdcrfn2fHi8YZ5bhiu72oTChLM/s320/cheeseburger.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>Have y'all seen <a href="http://icanhascheezburger.com/">this website</a>? I don't get it. A website for cats??? Cats and cheeseburgers???</div><div></div><div>Well, this is me and my cheeseburger - take that, you silly cats!</div><div></div><div>Oh, there is <a href="http://ihasahotdog.com/">one for doggies</a>, too....<br /><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgSaGBskFj_fC2j2VD94bdJnBlzsJcp5X15VgbxVIeElf40JQNMB61hwogM2_GCpnYAIQbClaxlNzChrhAc8oDaZvGu_7KyZqVQt_1xUba4EPVpOY7tr3gnx2251PEUDmunxOIZXzUrXY/s1600-h/new+ball+2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430453340174225314" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 188px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgSaGBskFj_fC2j2VD94bdJnBlzsJcp5X15VgbxVIeElf40JQNMB61hwogM2_GCpnYAIQbClaxlNzChrhAc8oDaZvGu_7KyZqVQt_1xUba4EPVpOY7tr3gnx2251PEUDmunxOIZXzUrXY/s200/new+ball+2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />ANYway, for Christmas, my friends John and Kathy gave me a bunch of these great balls - they are hard, and good for playing catch!<br /><br /></div><div>We visited them way back for my <a href="http://bailey-the-goldenretriever.blogspot.com/2010/01/i-learned-what-pool-is.html">big vacation to the snowy swimming pool</a>....<br /></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqPo5ZdJYegXavDMG3XwBnk0yzCzu3jx-WHTrXlo1xjKqTnij4JWaCGbFYxI-9k9IoCRZsL4xujXF0jdbfHj5z64TuIc4ROnM_HPbqvnHmJVYdrdvgDwBho8BqIESqNvcVSYDsELrEwus/s1600-h/pupcorn.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5430453691764237394" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 174px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 200px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqPo5ZdJYegXavDMG3XwBnk0yzCzu3jx-WHTrXlo1xjKqTnij4JWaCGbFYxI-9k9IoCRZsL4xujXF0jdbfHj5z64TuIc4ROnM_HPbqvnHmJVYdrdvgDwBho8BqIESqNvcVSYDsELrEwus/s200/pupcorn.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div></div><div><div>I took Tai and Nummy some of this great popcorn for dogs - it is <strong>Delicious</strong>!</div><BR><br /></div><div></div><div>You should see if your peoples can find some for you!</div><div></div><div><BR>Mine is all gone now, but Mom says she will get me some more soon.</div><div></div><div><BR><BR>I have been having tummy aches for the past few days, and throwing up my breakfast a lot, and sometimes I don't even eat my breakfast - Mom says she will give me a few more days, and if I don't start to eat better, we are going to the doctor.</div><div></div><div>Oh boy.</div><div></div><div>Mom thinks I am tricking her, because I will eat people food just fine. And she thinks Maybe I got spoiled on our vacation, because I got t0 eat so much people food leftovers everyday, after Mom and her friends ate at the fancy people food eating places.</div><div></div><div>She thinks Maybe I am just holding out for better food....who knows?? </div>Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-35136694145743699582010-01-18T11:56:00.001-08:002010-01-18T16:59:46.302-08:00I learned what a pool is....Mom and I took a trip earlier this week - we went to a hotel (I <strong>love</strong> hotels!!)<br /><br />The last time I stayed in a hotel it was at the beach, and I went swimming in the ocean everyday, and chased pelicans. That was fun! That was a long time ago - way before I started blogging, but <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/sweetfreedom/2140056270/in/set-72157603847117647/">here is a picture</a>. I hope we go back sometime!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLJp8Sg-mu5W03ZKY6qC7C3DYC2hkANlvyiS6235tJZn3iZqsVPq1wHicyZecRMvNTDELLD1dRzFvS9bmIVXE-nlC_ZCrWQZBGa7sEE691ARm22MqgtPVui6P60ALC-L0H19IvWGhaZHE/s1600-h/snow.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428172755470954338" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLJp8Sg-mu5W03ZKY6qC7C3DYC2hkANlvyiS6235tJZn3iZqsVPq1wHicyZecRMvNTDELLD1dRzFvS9bmIVXE-nlC_ZCrWQZBGa7sEE691ARm22MqgtPVui6P60ALC-L0H19IvWGhaZHE/s200/snow.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This vacation was almost as fun - there was snow! This is the most snow I have seen since I was a baby!<br /><br /><br />Mom and I played a lot in this snow - look at all our footprints!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRCzENf04mHoNqXSE8QeiLFEBxXWQtu8auPasE3HqJ5DxkCEdNS3q4QpCYcCiguZH3WsSaRfwwsUGsynzVyss8ZVmTKR7m6U-OEpXybnN87kUA1VYsh46bEXBF0RenpHYwMC6bMcJr8Xk/s1600-h/hotel+layout.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428172436886955410" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRCzENf04mHoNqXSE8QeiLFEBxXWQtu8auPasE3HqJ5DxkCEdNS3q4QpCYcCiguZH3WsSaRfwwsUGsynzVyss8ZVmTKR7m6U-OEpXybnN87kUA1VYsh46bEXBF0RenpHYwMC6bMcJr8Xk/s200/hotel+layout.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />As you can see from this picture that I have expertly diagrammed for you, the snow, and the pool, were right outside our hotel room.<br /><br />I made Mom take me for a walk every 5 minutes!<br /><br />It was very very cold! But that is my favorite! It makes me frisky!<br /><br /><br />This is the "swimming pool." I had never seen a swimming pool before. I have only <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">swimmed</span> in the ocean.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428172209390801170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCa_kDx6lVPYqELcBQqkCmm2EOyiWk9IODlwaYo8feKTFK8yk90-VY3bIaa7qk-yr_ziqp8fABQaaPo-E6YB5PW16UfNTIe-3WcWpuWGiSUWcc3Dm71IAV84UOdETZpTjiSgies2gEEPs/s320/pool.jpg" border="0" /><br />Mom and I opened the gate and walked around this pool. Notice how the corner of the pool is nice and dry in this picture.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguNRmZXMFuuacMT6D_dBb5WAjhJlYn0G1ErGplIQDS-ikWD0b0Xip45kaekr3D7NjHcp8Ku1Jcldp8tQbxPS7PORq3XMLn2Kc1BS_FKbMdHpMWECvTHWbW0GK3dx4Yj4to5hRDhBFc6dg/s1600-h/broken+ice1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428171891019568578" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguNRmZXMFuuacMT6D_dBb5WAjhJlYn0G1ErGplIQDS-ikWD0b0Xip45kaekr3D7NjHcp8Ku1Jcldp8tQbxPS7PORq3XMLn2Kc1BS_FKbMdHpMWECvTHWbW0GK3dx4Yj4to5hRDhBFc6dg/s200/broken+ice1.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br />While Mom was talking (yak yak yak) to her friends, she was not watching me at all, and I strolled over to the corner of the pool and took a good long sniff.<br /><br />Then I decided to walk on the pool.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div><div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuZUH1LEjlpvqWcp1-3mgt3AhKLKzGpFGrT0DkV5iF0VkxZWk8tceQa-6oCRW_xv73heBkNeqeQY444Q4j95_TPM5cQ4yZvw4PSNvYPZlb00oiWo-QrO7SzI8jxw9XU7AhskXzUWcwaZA/s1600-h/broken+ice2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428171768341760626" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuZUH1LEjlpvqWcp1-3mgt3AhKLKzGpFGrT0DkV5iF0VkxZWk8tceQa-6oCRW_xv73heBkNeqeQY444Q4j95_TPM5cQ4yZvw4PSNvYPZlb00oiWo-QrO7SzI8jxw9XU7AhskXzUWcwaZA/s200/broken+ice2.jpg" border="0" /></a> That's when I learned I can't walk on a pool!</div><div></div><div></div><div>Look at the broken ice where I fell in!</div><div></div><div></div><div>I went under the water a bunch, and then I <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">treaded</span> water and swam over to the corner, and put my front legs up on the corner, and used my back legs to climb out of the pool.</div><div></div><div>Then I shook off, and got everybody wet. </div><div></div><div>Now I was friskier that ever!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ2cyIzvgVdMAGm1TUf6c3dG6QVro3ArGfb6cwzUv36Y-JGXDbeNaKh8C6RqzTne6jiqjaaSjohROfjUvlIsuqR4WA0nLvz1Wp4GqXJxezrkBkMw-6jK6xHnkLZdNRA7E_N62Hq4vXECc/s1600-h/post-swim.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428171591526032354" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 150px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ2cyIzvgVdMAGm1TUf6c3dG6QVro3ArGfb6cwzUv36Y-JGXDbeNaKh8C6RqzTne6jiqjaaSjohROfjUvlIsuqR4WA0nLvz1Wp4GqXJxezrkBkMw-6jK6xHnkLZdNRA7E_N62Hq4vXECc/s200/post-swim.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />This is me, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">chillin</span>' on the bed in the hotel, after my swim.</div><div></div><div>I had SO much fun on this trip!<br /><br /></div><div></div><div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZGSJa6mh0r8hTD3tH9rgt2tjqQDkDGkEO5DeVQHwu3AiOC7e8VqFPRFOwzhGxe_Pr03x2-ewwPsqnYGFgvXfYasM-5Z7HQ1mDxxzN_n6afM2XGPLTZjoKVUBHKGFHwnj285Jk7Z8phiQ/s1600-h/Tai+and+Nummy+at+the+hotel.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428171400201293490" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 138px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZGSJa6mh0r8hTD3tH9rgt2tjqQDkDGkEO5DeVQHwu3AiOC7e8VqFPRFOwzhGxe_Pr03x2-ewwPsqnYGFgvXfYasM-5Z7HQ1mDxxzN_n6afM2XGPLTZjoKVUBHKGFHwnj285Jk7Z8phiQ/s200/Tai+and+Nummy+at+the+hotel.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br />Remember <a href="http://bailey-the-goldenretriever.blogspot.com/2009/06/i-took-vacation-and-something-horrible.html">these guys</a>? <br><br /><br /><div>Well, in some weird coincidence, they were staying at the same hotel!<br></div><div></div><div>Mom and I visited their room a lot, and it turns out they aren't as bad as I thought. <em>OR maybe they are.....</em><BR><BR></div><div><em></em></div><div><em></em></div><div></div><div><br>Mom calls <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Tai</span> (the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">cocker</span> spaniel) "Girlfriend" a lot, and sometimes calls her <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">BGF</span> (best girl friend), and holds her on her lap a lot, and gives her lots of rubs and treats, so that is not so good. I get jealous....<br></div><div></div><div></div><div><BR><BR>And I can't see <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Nummy</span> very well, 'cause she is so tiny, and she's black, so she blends in with other shadows (but look at her glowing evil eyes in picture!), and I step on her sometimes - it is an accident! Really!!<br><BR></div><div></div><div></div><div></div><div>Note: <a href="http://sweetfreedom-designs.blogspot.com/2010/01/we-took-short-trip.html">Mom's version of this whole vacation</a> may vary from mine. You guys know who to believe - we gotta stick together, right?</div></div></div></div>Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6834604183007924849.post-171383268848042532010-01-06T17:15:00.000-08:002010-01-06T17:27:07.812-08:00Happy New Year!and Prospero Ano Nuevo, etc...<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO-_ng30LlJFbRhbHeiFJnyT_zYCjihtOYTbdKst1_S6Ki6Y7VJbwM3lTxNHqQe4rwtwzZYZJuGH79FjJXaOC-7EwO4MY-Hy7inhp6BiDwKyBqOltoY1DgEFzhJ5K_w0hj_-U66tsRGno/s1600-h/new+blankie+12-09.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423802001895256194" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 146px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO-_ng30LlJFbRhbHeiFJnyT_zYCjihtOYTbdKst1_S6Ki6Y7VJbwM3lTxNHqQe4rwtwzZYZJuGH79FjJXaOC-7EwO4MY-Hy7inhp6BiDwKyBqOltoY1DgEFzhJ5K_w0hj_-U66tsRGno/s200/new+blankie+12-09.jpg" border="0" /></a> I hope everyone had great holidays!<br /><br />This is the new soft blankie that Santa brought me, for lying on the sofa with Mom. It is made out of soft soft fleece, and has pictures of bones on it!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaOPkyBoRRxCK3KvRAPWZl10Zvo63myati6ZLzTWM7YOB7Mk08zkxSv8QrSBgfruCLRhzzqV2fmJUmk5Sq5dpZ4-RJFAf-LdSvFnJJlTqVmJ7mrcGL2gg0UZtseyQVDF7Tq_79QlBwz5s/s1600-h/new+ball.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423801870950359858" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 178px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaOPkyBoRRxCK3KvRAPWZl10Zvo63myati6ZLzTWM7YOB7Mk08zkxSv8QrSBgfruCLRhzzqV2fmJUmk5Sq5dpZ4-RJFAf-LdSvFnJJlTqVmJ7mrcGL2gg0UZtseyQVDF7Tq_79QlBwz5s/s200/new+ball.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><br /><br /><div>This is the new ball Santa brought me. It is big, and soft, and chewy, and comes apart really easily when I chew it.</div><div> </div><div>Mom says Santa probably didn't know about it coming apart when he told the elves to make it for me!</div><div> </div><div>I can't find this ball right now - it is lost somewhere in the house!</div><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYj2IG7E-LK9LwFRPN3CQhJxDFYcGek7t04e-k2xufBRnpH8FYJ1TzUo-9iawcdcvwgRYnWd1WZtsRoutN97n6s-mOcApkY29MvrSH5CtNG_CVQ_y88aaUbhsTif1HksKsgXJpE04hzR8/s1600-h/new+blankie+and+new+ball.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5423801744892162098" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 200px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 107px" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYj2IG7E-LK9LwFRPN3CQhJxDFYcGek7t04e-k2xufBRnpH8FYJ1TzUo-9iawcdcvwgRYnWd1WZtsRoutN97n6s-mOcApkY29MvrSH5CtNG_CVQ_y88aaUbhsTif1HksKsgXJpE04hzR8/s200/new+blankie+and+new+ball.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />This is me with my new ball and blankie on Christmas, while Mom was watching TV.<br /><br /><br />We went to the mountains the next day, but didn't get any snow.<br /><br />We still had a really good time, and I will be back soon to give the juicy details!<br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaOPkyBoRRxCK3KvRAPWZl10Zvo63myati6ZLzTWM7YOB7Mk08zkxSv8QrSBgfruCLRhzzqV2fmJUmk5Sq5dpZ4-RJFAf-LdSvFnJJlTqVmJ7mrcGL2gg0UZtseyQVDF7Tq_79QlBwz5s/s1600-h/new+ball.jpg"></a> </div>Baileyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11098168264165539408noreply@blogger.com8