My Mom is very confusing

Mom has started calling me by a new name: "Notchu Bailey".

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."

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.

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 Facebook 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!

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!

I hope Santa is good to all my bloggy friends!

Not much happenin' here

Not much going on here - Mom says it is the Dog Days of Summer - but I don't see anything particularly "doggy" about them.

It is hot hot hot hot hot. And humid. So it is not much fun outside.

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.

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!



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.

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 had a boo-boo on her neck, 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!

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!

I hope you aren't as hot as I am!

I am spending a lot of time making new friends on FaceBook. Facebook still confuses me, but I am trying!

I'll try anything, once...

I don't know about you guys, but I enjoy eating. Good grief - just look at my avatar!

Basically, almost anything will do - I'm not real picky, as you know.

Although, there are a few things that I just won't eat - like plain ole dry lettuce. Or those bacon thingies.


Mom had a banana at the store the other day.


Naturally, I acted like banana was my favoritist food EVER!


And I told Mom I needed some banana, NOW!


But Mom was being all piggy about her banana, and wouldn't give me a single bite.


So then I told her that banana PEEL was my favoritist food EVER in the whole world, and I asked her very politely (I even stood up on my back legs) for the banana peel.


Mom looked at me like I was crazy, but she handed me the peel.

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!








But you know what - banana peels are not good dog treats.

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.

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.


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. Oooops.


Mom says that was my last banana peel. That's OK - I will just go find my friend Franklin and get some REAL treats!

My Weekend

First of all, Mom did NOT let me use the computer last night, like she promised.

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.

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.

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.

OK - on to my story.

My Mom has not been feeling good for a long time, but I have been taking very good care of her. Really!

She blabs and blabs about her problems over here.

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 my good friend John. 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!!)



But here is the problem:

John brought my arch-nemesis, Nummy, with him!



Look at her prancing around my store like she owns the place!







She just took over!

I tried to mind my own business, but she was everywhere!













Look at her licking her lips - just thinking of ways to pester me!

I bet you think she looks all innocent and sweet, huh?

Well, she isn't.

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.

Seriously- she chases me all over my own house, trying to protect her precious food!

Look at Nummy, doing MY job, watching for customers and delivery men.

And this is an absolutely true story:

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.

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.

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.

What am I? Chopped Liver?

So my Mom leaned over and told them they had hurt my feelings, and one of them said, "Well, he has cute eyes".

Hmmmph. Cute eyes.

John and Nummy went home yesterday. I miss John.

Facebook!

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.

So instead, here is today's big announcement!

I am on Facebook!

Come visit me, and be my FaceBook Friend! Hope to see you soon.

And hopefully when I get home tonight, Mom will let me blog my news about what she did to me this weekend.......

So Here's the Deal

Remember my awesome idea to stop eating dogfood so I could spend all day eating delicious treats from the deli near my Mom's store?


And remember how that idea kinda backfired, 'cause my Mom told the deli man that I could not have any more deli treats?


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.


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.

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!

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!



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.







And stand there.








And stand there.


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.




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.





More thought-rays.


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!

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!


Naturally, my super-powerful thought-rays ultimately work (they never fail!), and Franklin opens the door, and comes out to greet and treat me!









At first, I am so excited to see the treat Franklin that I jump up and dance!











But I quickly remember my manners, and Franklin gives me something yummy!

And he gives me lots of pats and rubs, too!




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.

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 al fresco. I love being outside!


And here's a little something for everyone who has read this really long story:
My Mom is holding a secret sale in her Etsy shop 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!

Well, I went to the doctor...

I had to go to my doctor for a check-up on Monday.

She is the very same doctor I have had ever since I was a baby, and she is a very nice lady.

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.

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.

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."

Humans are strange sometimes.

My best Christmas Present!

Back before I jumped into the swimming pool, Mom and I drove up up up the mountain to visit our friends John and Kathy for Christmas.

I was worried that Santa would not know where to find me!

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!



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!




See how comfy it is for naps?





And it has plenty of room for me AND all my toys!


This is the new ball Santa brought me at my house right before we drove up here.

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!

It even made my nose look big!

Tiny chair!

I love my new chair. I let John sit in it when I am not there. Because that is how generous I am!

Return of the Coneheads - just in time for Christmas!

Well, I did it again.

One day last week, while Mom was helping customers at the store, I hid in my new bed at the store, and licked and licked and licked a spot on my hip until I had another one of those "hot spot" things that always makes Mom put the bucket on my head.

Here is me today, with my bucket head, playing with my good old "swollen tongue" toy.


This is still a great toy, even though it has quit squeaking.

I hate when squeakers quit squeaking!





Now, the good thing about wearing my bucket is that when I get tired of playing with one of my toys, I can just drop it, and carry it around in the bucket until I want to play with it again - this works pretty good with all my toys - even my big babies!

It does NOT work so good with treats Mom throws at me (why do I always miss catching them when I wear this thing?) Anyway - the treat gets stuck around my neck area, and I can't reach it, but I lick and lick trying to get it, and then the treat is all sticky, and my neck is all sticky, and, well - you get the idea.

Mom has special medicine for my boo-boo, and she puts it on me (I don't mind!) and I wear the cone around the house so I don't lick off the medicine, and so I don't lick my boo-boo.

But thanks to this new thing Mom found at the PetSmart (I Looooove going there!) - I don't have to suffer the humiliation of wearing my bucket head in public anymore!


Mom calls these doggie bandaids - they have special stuff on them to keep me from licking, and she can put in on my boo-boo, and it is basically invisible ('cause it is the same color as my fur!) - but when people at the store rub me, they sometimes find it. But sometimes not.

These doggie bandaids make Mom sneeze if she gets close too them - that is because they are coated in Cayenne pepper. They don't make me sneeze, but I sure don't lick 'em, either!

So, I wear the bucket at home, so my medicine can work, and I wear the pepper bandaid at work, so I don't look so silly. The pepper bandaid won't stick to my medicine, or else I would never have to wear the stupid bucket!

I hope everybody has a good holiday!

Mom and I are spending a couple of days lounging around the house, and then on Saturday we are driving up to the mountains to visit our friends, and we hope it is snowing up there!

Something's up!

Something big is up at my house!

Mom is doing lots of laundry, and ironing, and packing her suitcases.

And that only means one thing!

VACATION!!!

So I have been doing a lot of thinking and dreaming about where we could be going.

Maybe it will be somewhere with lots and lots of snow!

I just love rolling in the snow, and eating snow!

It hardly ever snows at my house, and it is pretty hot right now, so that would be a really fun vacation, huh?

Maybe we will go back to the beach!

The beach is so cool! Lots of water for swimming (but don't drink it, 'cause you will throw up!)

And lots and lots of birds to chase, especially those pesky pelicans! They like to tease me - they land really close to me in the water, and I thrash around trying to swim to them, and then they fly 3 feet away, and stare at me, and we do it all over again.

And rolling in the sand is SO cool! Then you go and jump in Mom's lap. That is fun!

And there is horse poop at the beach we go to - and you know how I feel about that!

Or maybe we will go to a big fancy hotel and doggie spa, and I can sleep late, and get massages and belly rubs!

I have NO idea where we are going, but I'll tell you all about it when I get back.

Check out my new poll, and vote for where you think Mom and I should go!!

See ya!

How many do YOU have?

How many names do YOU have?

My Mom has a bunch of names for me, but no matter what she calls me, I know she is talking to me (partly because there's no one else here, but also because sometimes you just know stuff, you know?)

These are some of my names - some of them are really silly, but I don't mind:

Bailey
Bailey-Boo
Boo
Boo-boo
Bay
Baby
Stinky
Stinky Baby
Stinky-poo
Stink
Big Stink
Stinker
Poo-Bear
Poo
Bailey-doo
Bailey Doodle
Baby Doodle
Doo-doo
Sweet-pea
Sweet Peasums
Pea-pie
Baby Cake
Baby Cakers
Cake
Cakers
Sweetness
Sweetness-pea
Peas and Rabbits
Doodlebug
Sweetums
Goofball
Goofhead
Baby Darlin'
Darlin' Pea Pie
Pretty
Pretty Boy
Baby Doodles
BB
B-dog
Stinky Pot
Cuddle Bug
Doll Baby
Stinkerpotamus
Stinkypotamus
Love Muffin
Fur Ball
Hey You
Foot Boy
Bailey Poo-kette
Poo-kette
Bailey Boo-ker (rhymes with pooker)
Boo-ker
Bailey Boo-kette
Boo-kette
Snuggie Uggums
Big Dog
Pookie
Boogie
Boogalooze
Love Bunny
Booger-dog
Bubba Dog
Beakie
Beakie-Doo
Beakie Doodles


That's all I can think of right now!

Mom can call me whatever she wants, as long as she doesn't call me Late to Supper.

HaHAHaHAhahahahaha

Tell me some of your names!

Oh yeah - don't forget to vote for my definition (don't vote for the wrong one)! Thanks!

Check me out!

Hey guys - I have made it to the BIG time as a journalist now!

I am now published in Urban Dictionary!

Take a look, and give my definition a paws up!

Thanks!

Me - giving a paws up. I need a little more practice!

My Name is Bailey, and I am a Poopaholic

Mom told me that I absolutely, positively, cannot tell this story.

So here goes.

I am mostly a good dog, but sometimes dogs have certain urges ... and that is why there is a well known saying: "A dog's gotta do what a dog's gotta do."

And, well, I do doo-doo.

Like many poopaholics, I started with that gateway doo-doo: rabbit poop.
We have lots of rabbits in our yard, and they leave lots of poop, and it is yummy.

Except for this bunny - he lives next to our deck, and I've never seen him move. He doesn't ever make poop, and he doesn't even smell like a bunny.

But I digress.

We have a really really big back yard, and lots of woods in our yard, and I like to roam around in the woods a lot. And lots of times that is where I poop. But if I don't poop in the woods, I poop in one of Mom's flower beds.

That is very important to this story.

See, a long, long time ago, before I was even born, Mom had another beautiful Golden, and he was very persnickety, and would only poop in the freshly mown grass. So Mom had to go out everyday and scoop up his poop and throw it in the bushes, so that both of them wouldn't step in it.

So when I came along, and never pooped in the grass, she was very excited - 'cause she didn't ever have to scoop poop anymore!

And then one day, I ran out of bunny poop, and discovered some of my old poop in a flower bed, and I ate it.

And then I couldn't stop - I think of it as recycling.

Mom was horrified, and decided I might have a dietary deficiency, or something, so she took me to the vet, and asked the vet what she should do about a poop-eating dog.

And the vet said: "Well, you could always just scoop up his poop.... But there is nothing wrong with Bailey."

Well, duh.

Mom was really mad at the vet for this advice. She tried putting a muzzle on me when I went out in the yard, but I could squeeze my tongue out through the tiny opening in the muzzle, and still eat poop.

So Mom has given up on my "horrible addiction" as she calls it.

TDH strikes again!

I don't know about you guys, but my Mom has this strange, magical machine in the kitchen, and I really wish she would get rid of it.



It is square, and has a door that folds down, and most of the time my Mom leaves the door open ('cause she is lazy -- oops, there goes my treat tomorrow...!), and lots of times my toys roll under that door and get stuck. And sometimes I catch the edge of the door with my cone, and that is just annoying.



But the real problem is, Mom puts dishes in this machine - dishes and cups and silverwares - all kinds of stuff that I could be cleaning for her, and when she cuts on the machine, it makes a quiet noise for a long time, and then the dishes come out with absolutely no food left on them. This is a waste of perfectly good snacks!!


And what I really want to know is, where does all the food go??


Well, I thought I figured it all out yesterday:

Mom was unloading the machine - taking all the plates that I could have cleaned for her (and a whole lot faster, too, if you know what I mean!), and after she got the bottom shelf emptied, she said "hmmm" and she pulled the bottom shelf all the way out real fast and reached her arm way inside the machine, and she grabbed something out of it, and just kind of tossed it on the kitchen floor, and went back to inspecting the stoopid machine.

I had been halfway watching her from my comfy rug in the dining room, but when I saw her drop this thing on the kitchen floor, I jumped up like a rocket, and zoomed into the kitchen to check it out. 'Cause I just knew it was food - right? I mean, food goes in - so it must come out.

And Mom heard my claws clicking as I ran like a fool, and she turned around and saw me zooming in on it, and she said "No, Bailey" which everyone knows is Mom secret code for "Now Bailey, that is a delicious snack that I really really want for myself, so you stay away!", so I took 2 quick sniffs, and sucked up that treat!

Like lightning, I tell you.

And Mom said "You are SO gross, Bailey."

And that's when it hit me - I had just eaten a giant clump of Toxic Dog Hair.

Bummer

Y'all remember how I told you about all the construction going on next door? And how I have this really cool peep-hole in my fence?
It's always been there forever and ever, so I could visit with the next door doggies?




Well, Mom came home from work a few days ago, and let me out, and I ran to my peep-hole to check on the new doggy that moved in last week, and look what we found!

I am so mad!

The new neighbors blocked off my peep-hole.

Mom is mad, too - because it is her fence!



Mom and I played a little soccer today, but not much, because it was really hot and humid outside.



Mom said she might get her saw out and give me my peep-hole back. I hope she does, 'cause I am a very curious and friendly dog! I want to visit with the doggy next door.

But the neighbor peoples don't seem very nice at all.

Toxic Dog Hair: the Truth

My mailbox has been flooded with e-mails from other friends whose dog toys have inexplicably fallen apart, and they also suspect toxic dog hair (TDH) is the culprit.

As a responsible journalist, I have now done extensive research into this, and these are my findings:

I have inspected hundreds of photos of my poor dead dog toys - I have found copious amounts of dog hair in every photo!

By now, you have probably seen the pics of poor cow baby's left ear - covered in TDH!

Here is more irrefutable photographic evidence:

Poor piggy baby

And a close up photo of poor piggy's tummy area:

Click on the photo if you need to - I have circled what I believe to be Ground Zero of the TDH accumulation.

I have hundreds of more photos that tell the same sad story, but quite frankly, it was very painful for me to go back and look at all my dear old, and now sadly demised, friends, and I just don't think I can bear to relive these memories again.

So here are my new theories, the result of several hours of extensive study, whenever I wasn't sleeping, or eating, or getting my tummy rubbed:

Toxic Dog Hair (TDH) is responsible for:

1) Global Warming -- there are probably tons and tons of TDH floating around up there somewhere, trapping those greenhouse gases, whatever they are...

2) Hurricanes and Typhoons (forget that silly "Butterfly Effect" nonsense - I suspect TDH)

3) the Blue Screen of Death and other critical computer errors -- there's really no doubt here -

my Mom has had to have her computer professionally cleaned (and even replaced, one time) because so much TDH got inside it that it stopped working --- sorry, Mom

4) the Current Economic Crisis - I won't even pretend to know what this is, but the News Guy is always saying it, and he sound really sad and serious when he says it, so it must be something bad, and I bet TDH is involved.

5) And, most importantly (to me), the deterioration of my favorite babies.

That's all I have come up with so far, but I will keep conducting my top secret research.

Let me know if you have some horrible events you believe are caused by TDH.

The world must know!!

The End is Near...

When Mom came home from work, she found this on her pillow:

Do you recognize it?

Here is a hint:

It is cow baby's left ear.

Once again, one of my brand new dog toys is falling apart, all on it's own.

But I think I have figured out the reason all my dog toys keep falling apart!

If you look closely at the top picture, you will notice there there is a lot of Bailey-hair all over the ear. Hence, dog hair must cause deterioration of dog toys, and the longer you play with them, the more dog hair they get on them, so the more rapid the deterioration.

I really AM a genius, just like my Mom says!

It's for my own good...?

Does that statement EVER mean anything good is about to happen?

You guys know I've been wearing this stupid cone forEVER.

And my Mom has been taking care of my boo-boo, and checking me all the time, and I got all better this week, so Mom decided to start letting me go without the cone.

She does this gradually - by letting me go for just a few hours without it at first, so she can watch me, like I'm some kind of recidivist or something.

The nerve.

But anyway, she started freeing me from the cone on Monday when she was home from work, and we sat around the living room all day - she was working on her stoopid beads, and I was left to my own devices. Do you want to know what I did? Really what I did?

Mom was really, really wrapped up in her bead stuff, and the TV was on, of course, and so she wasn't paying much attention to me.

And about an hour later, she noticed that she was hearing a very repetitive licking sound coming from somewhere - and she started looking for me, and she couldn't see me anywhere. Because I am smart, and I had crawled behind a big chair to hide from her!

And she got up really quietly and sneaky-like, and snuck up and me and caught me licking - but I wasn't licking my all-healed-up boo-boo. I was, of course, licking my .......... "business". After all, I hadn't been able to do this in FOREVER!!!

And evidently, that was OK with her, because she didn't put me back in the cone.

So for 4 days, she let me be out of the cone whenever she was home and awake, and I was perfectly behaved, and didn't do any bad licking, so last night she let me sleep without the cone.

She even gave me a huge rawhide bone so I could celebrate, and have something delicious to chew and suck on!

And then this morning, she gave me a full body frisking, and didn't find any wet spots, so she decided I was over it, and she went to work and left me out of the cone! Hurray!!

And I spent all day sucking on my thigh, and when Mom got home, she frisked me again, and discovered what I'd done, and put me back in the cone, saying "it's for your own good".

Yeah, right.

Stupid cone.

Gingey's home!

Well, Mom must have sent enough ransoms to the lady in the mountains, because Gingey is home at last!

I am just so excited! This picture was taken just moments after Mom opened the package -

I ran around the house a lot with Gingey!

We went upstairs while Mom changed her clothes, and I paused on the bed, but never let go of Gingey.

Then Mom went downstairs to cook dinner, and I raced after her, and I was so excited, and between wearing my cone and having Gingey in my mouth, I guess I couldn't see the stairs, and I was running too fast, and I fell down the stairs!

Fortunately, Mom was just a few steps from the bottom, and she heard the commotion as I came thundering down the stairs in a big tangle, and she stuck out her leg, and saved me! I composed myself, and raced her to the kitchen, and you know what?

I never even dropped Gingey!!!!

Bother and Worryation

Happy Independence Day, everybody!

As usual, I spent last night in Mom's closet, just like I do every July 4 (and every New Year's Eve, too).

I peeped out a couple of times to make sure Mom was OK, but mostly I just hid deep in her big comfy closet, 'til all the bang-bang noises were over.

I came out around 1 AM, and jumped up on Mom's bed to let her know it was time to take me outside.


And that's when she noticed that my left hip was all wet. And she knew what I had been doing in the closet - I had been "worryating" on my left hip, and now I have a great big boo-boo there. Mom said I was naughty. I can't help it, though - sometimes I just do this when I'm nervous!

It was all red last night, and Mom put medicine on it.

And naturally, now I have to wear the cone again.

Oops.