All About Me.

The world revolves around me. Right? Right.

Saturday  night I heard the most horrifying thing – February 7th was going to be all about Momma. She was gonna party, eat and be merry. I thought to myself, “Self – how can this be?” After all Momma has had plenty, and I mean PLENTY, of b-days, shouldn’t she AT least share the day with me? I immediately began to plot – how can I turn February 7th into Ben Day?

I had to do something drastic to draw the attention to me – somethin’ earth shatterin’ that would cause Momma to share her day with me. Suddenly I had it…I began to drool, I refused to play ball, I nosed at my food, slept on the couch and made Poppa bring my water bowl to me. I even pulled out the old vomit trick.

All of a sudden I began to realize -  I am not feelin’ good at all,  maybe I took this little game of mine too far.

Too far indeed – I was poked and prodded every hour until I was rudely aroused mid-sleep, carried out to the truck and driven off in the dark. What had I gotten myself into?

Momma had whisked me off to the doggie ER.  The Doc gave me a good look over and told Momma to leave me for some tests. Doc told Momma he would call in the morning. CALL IN THE MORNING??!! - I began to whine and dig my toe nails into the tile flooring. A lady started heardin’ me down a hall and away from my Momma. I sat down, refused to move and barked out  “Momma don’t leave me!!! Don’t let them take me awaaayyy!!!”

Momma walked towards me, bent over a whispered “Don’t worry, I’ll be back”. I had been abandoned.

Several hours later Momma returned and took me home. I guess I always knew she would.

A bed was set up in the kitchen and Nurse Woods was on duty. Whenever I am sick Woodsy is by my side, he is my protector. 

He made sure that Lance and Coop stayed a paw’s length away.

I had won – Momma’s Day had become Ben Day.

Bet you peeps are curious on how I ended up in the ER.  My right lymph node stopped functioning as it should. I developed a jello like mass below my jaw line, fluid not drainin’ right, and the side of my face developed a hard mass.

Momma flipped out, she and Poppa looked for a bug bite or somethin’ and came up with nothin’ . Then they started to let their minds wander to dark places – like Lymphoma a nasty cancer pretty common in us Goldens. They attempted to stay cool, calm and collected. Figured they would bring me in to see my regular doc in the mornin’.  Then my breathin’ changed – I was off to the ER so fast I still had sleep in my eyes when we arrived.

Have no fear,  I am in GREAT  health – just have a suspected lowered immune system from spending 51/2 months of 2009 fightin’ infection.  The cause of all the drama was Marty Von Blinkinstein. Durin’ one of our wrestlin’ matches the little guy punctured my skin and I developed an infection. Yep, a silly little puppy puncture, no bigger than a needle prick, sent me to the ER.

This is me this mornin’, still a little droopy and sportin’ a new hairdo, but ready to party like a rock star.

P.S. Miss Molly is adopted, Ginger and Mary are in foster care.

The Many Moves of Marty Von Blinkinstein

A stately 3 legged dog is standing on tile, that’s me.

A brazen whirlin’ dervioush starts nibblin’ on my back leg, guess who that is.

 I valiantly attempt to scramble across the tile to escape the nibblin’.

The Upstart claps down on my leg.

I can’t get any traction.

Loss of limb is imminent. 

Momma runs towards me, she tries to pry open the jaws of death. 

The Upstart chomps down tighter.

I fear Momma has failed me…amputation flashes before my eyes – I will be a two-legged dog.

Faster than a speeding bullet, stronger than a Momma – Woodsy to the rescue.

Tiger takes a big old paw and swats Marty on the head.

Marty, now fearing for his life, screams in horror and  let’s go of my leg.

Momma clutched the screamer in her arms, gives Tiger and I a kiss and takes off for work.

When Momma returned from workin’ I found these pics of the traumatized ankle biter.

Relaxin’

Reclinin’

Stretchin’

PS. Marty is leavin’ in the mornin’. Travel safe little guy.

Oh Momma !!!!

I am a gracious dog – BUT Momma’s stealin’ of MY blog and postin’ a “WANTED” sign is not so BOL!!! to me. I am willin’ to forgive and forget this time…just don’t let it happen again. I am watchin’ you Momma.

The ‘Oh Momma’ continues…two days ago Momma laughed at a Rescue Angel who had a 9 week old pup at the house. Momma said “I don’t like puppies.”

I know horrifying right? Like who doesn’t like puppies?”

 Momma said “Pups are cute, but hell on wheels.” Evil Momma got what she deserves for saying nasty things about sweet puppies…the puppy is at OUR house for 3 sleeps. BOL!!! BOL!!! BOL!!!

Little Martin Von Blinkinstein or Squints McGuillicutty started out makin’ Momma look like a rookie in rescue.

Picture this:

Momma brings  Marty to work for the day.

Momma takes Marty out for a potty break and a little stroll.

Momma returns to the office – everyone has gone to lunch.

Silly Momma  has no crate.

Momma HAS to go to the bathroom.

Momma and Marty go to the ladies room. 

Someone else comes into the ladies room.

Marty wanders into the next stall….lots and lots of giggling.

Momma tries to nicely drag Marty out from the next stall – more giggling.

Marty is enjoying his visit.

Very nice lady offers to bring Marty out when she is done…LOL.

I know, I know – how cool would pictures have been – but I guess Momma can’t go to the bathroom, wrestle a puppy AND take pictures all at the same time.  These pics from my first meeting with the little upstart will need to do.

Yep, he is rudely countin’ my legs.

 Gutsy ‘lil dog was tryin’ to grab my tail….maybe, just maybe, Momma has a point about pups being hell on wheels.

PS. A little back story – Marty came up from Tijuana and his eyes aren’t right. Marty wears a cone so he doesn’t irritate his eyes. Be happy for Marty, he is on his way to Homeward Bound and the best possible medical care. Until he makes the transport, he is on pain meds and loved by me and the fellas.

WANTED

 

244 Miles

Miss Molly ended her stay with us early this morning. It was so early the freeway looked like this when Momma headed out. In route to the drop off spot, Miss Molly played Rescue Angel. She stopped and picked up Rusty. (Momma forgot to get his picture, shame on Momma).

Rusty left a tearful family behind.  Hey OBAMA where is the Canine Family Member  Stimulus Package?

At the drop off point Momma meet up with the two Rescue Angels who were drivin’  the next leg of the journey. They had a total of TEN DOGS today!!!

All of the doggies were very very nice – a little anxious but the load up when smoothly. I looked at the photos of the doggies and thought they all got one thing in common – lookin’ for love. Their back stories really don’t matter - owners dying, loosing their home, found at a shelter or no longer a valued member of the family -  what matters is they find furever love.

Lookin at the pictures of the dogs travelin’ today made me feel glum.  

And THEN, THEN – I saw this picture.

Does this guy not know that I am the ONLY stunnin’ redheaded chair jumpin’ guy in my Momma’s life? Momma had like 6 pictures of this guy, more than any other dog.  Momma even had this picture of Revo, yep he even has a cool name… flashin’ his pearly whites and batting his bedroom eyes at my Momma.

 How many times do I have to tell Momma – she has enough men in her life? Isn’t 5 men enough for one lady? hmmpf!!

Today the dogs will have traveled between 387 and 495 miles.  Momma’s leg of the trip is the shortest – 122 miles up and 122 back home: 244 miles. Every Rescue Angel has to drive to a pick up point, a drop off point and home again. If I were a bettin’  dog I bet  over a 1000 miles were driven today - well done troops. But that happens once or twice a week 52 weeks of the year.

I can’t stop my bloggin’ without sharin’ my top ten Memories of Miss Molly:

10. Tricked Momma into bringin’ her home.

9.  Found the dog food closet and knocked at the door until she ate.

8. Pretended to HATE the crate at our house and then had no issues with it today.

7. At work Molly wouldn’t pee on a leash. Momma had to walk her on a 25 ft training line – she is a private girl.

6. Always up for a game of bitey face.

5. Ran through the house laughing after rolling around on the wet shower floor.

4. Knocked on garbage cans with her paw hoping they would magically open.

3. Taught herself the dog door and LOVED the freedom of comin’ and goinin’ as she pleased.

2. Stole a taco off Poppa’s lap and split out the shell and the lettuce while inhaling the meat.

1. Stole our hearts.

PS. Travel Safe Ten Dogs and a Hitch Dog-Hiker who caught a ride on the 99 after playin’ dog ball on the freeway.

PSS. Ms. Abbey – you are my one and only Cougar.

Wordless Wednesday – Miss Molly

Miss Molly

An unexpected visitor arrived on our doorstep last night – Miss Molly.

This 8-year-old charming girl was dropped of at the shelter on Saturday, by her unhumans(I borrowed the word from the lovely Khyra). On Monday a Rescue Angel called to see if she could bail Miss Molly out of jail, she was told “N0″. 

Many shelters have “owner surrender holds” which means a dog sits and waits to see if their owner changes their mind about surrenderin’ their dog.  Don’t get me started on that one, yep you guessed it…I get all hippity hopped mad on the “owner surrender hold” - you drive your unhuman-self to the shelter drop me off … I wanna  be sprung from the pokey by the first  Rescue Angel who comes along – but this shelter says“NO, you gotta wait.”

The Rescue Angel was very sad…suddenly a Shelter Angel, broke the rules. They said poor Miss Molly hadn’t eaten since Saturday and was huddled in the corner shakin’. At closing time the Shelter Angel drove Miss Molly to Rescue Angel #1, who then drove Miss Molly to meet Momma on the side of the freeway.

 Momma was all set to take Miss Molly to boardin’  – then she saw this sad shaky little dog. Momma called home and warned Poppa and us fellas that we were havin’ company for dinner and a sleep over if dinner went well.

Sad, shaky, tail tucked,  little Miss Molly arrived at our house and each one of us fellas went out one by one to say hi. The peeps had all five of us walkin’ nicely and figured Miss Molly would do just fine.

Suddenly, a little switch went on and Miss Molly THE FAKER was exposed. She got in the yard and her tail gave a wag, she began to trot, then run and then, THEN began to wrestle in a very unlady  like manner with us fellas.  She has a bit of hooligan in her, which you know means she fits in with our pack.

Miss Molly the scaredy-cat old lady spent the evenin’ frolickin’  like a  pup.  Miss Molly was still scared unless she was playin’ – so really she was just part faker. She would hop over the door openings – then sprint into the family room and do a lap. She went back to pantin’, pacin’  and shakin’ if a door was shut - even if she was in a room with humans. If she stopped movin’ she would aggravate her lick sores. 

This mornin’ Miss Molly took up temporary residency in the shower.

I kept lookin’ at Miss Molly.

Then I would look at Momma and ask “Is she coming out?”

Momma said  it wasn’t polite to stare.  I just couldn’t help myself – she is awfully cute. Maybe she would like to be my cougar??!!!

It took a bit of doing but Miss Molly eventually gave up her post in the shower and trotted off to work. Not sure how long Miss Molly will be visitin’, but me and the fellas promise to make her feel welcome.

PS. Rusty the lab was adopted. Ginger is still waitin’ for a home.

Sun(day)

The Sun is back – YIPPEE!!!

Momma got up early and took Lance, Tiger and Coop out for a trail run.

I stayed home and made sure that Poppa had a pal to snuggle with…

VERY, VERY important work supervising a sleeping Poppa.

Plus I had to rest up for my rescue work  – more on that later.

Coop was the star of the trails today – his smile is back.

If there was mud, Coop found it.

Dirty but happy.

Now about me – I had to go and give some potential adopters a test drive.

Momma says she brings me along on Home Interviews because I am the most unpredictable.

We arrived at the potential adopters house and  a very very sweet 3-year-old Golden named Bodie greeted us at the door. He gave a bark hello then promptly gave me a big kiss and ran me upstairs to show me the toy basket. I took Bodie up on his offer to share - I grabbed a toy, ran towards the coach and launched my bad boy self on  to the couch and nuzzled the house’s Missus. Momma quickly picked me up and plopped me back on the floor. Bodie and I wrestled and played. Our tails cleaned the coffee table – and well I jumped on the couch a record FIVE more times and even sauntered up to the Missus, smiled  and belched in her face.  

 Momma just shook her head and said “That’s my boy, Benjamin A Dog – B.A.D.” 

 

Bodie HAD to show off how nicely he sits when his Dad asks – me I kept up my testing and refused to sit. The Mister still gave me pets and let me run all over the house – even though I flipped him the paw when it came to sittin’ and he was the one helpin’ Momma wrestle me off the couch.

Best news is after all my jumpin’, burpin’ and disobedience  Bodie and his people said they would STILL  like to adopt a rescue dog and deal with a potentially ill-mannered hooligan. They even said a 3 legged guy like me would be A-OK. 

In the end Momma agreed I did a pawsome  job testin’ the  limits of Mister, Missus and Bodie – so I totally scored a righteous reward.

Gotta say though – Momma always says “If you won’t eat it, don’t feed it to your dog.” YET somehow she is a sucker for spoilin’ us with burgers that she won’t eat – but hey you don’t hear me complainin’.

Let’s all BOL at Momma’s double standard.

Being a Dog

The sun peeped out from all our rain – and we went out to romp.

Every good romp begins with the sacred spherical object also known as BALL.

“Can you see it in my eyes? Throw the ball!!!”

“Can you see it in my smile? Throw the ball!!!”

“Come ON throw the BALL!!!”

“Run Fellas!!! – she threw the ball!!!”

PS. Coop has not been doing well with the thunder and lighting that comes along with the stormy weather that has been hittin’ S.Cal.  Currently Coop is retricted to the dreaded leash, any little sound makes him bolt.  Coop happily took  Poppa out for his daily walk. 

Wordless Wednesday – Lance and BillyBob