My Flaky Human

Levi is back. Can we talk? Me needs advice on what to do about Moomie. Me loves her but she is a flaky human. How do I help her understand that boy puppies are suppose to do the things me does? Like yesterday we were in the back yard and I was tracking rabbits when me found where they hide their belly beans in the grass. Levi was enjoying those tasty brown things when Moomie grabbed me and dug them out of my mouth! What self respecting puppy dog wouldn't eat bunny beans? Moomie doesn't know the first thing about raising baby boy schnauzers. Levi is upset with her right now.

Then Wednesday me found Moomie's boobie hammock hanging in the bathroom. Levi is smart. Me figured out how to get it off the hook and I turned it into pull-toy for my stuffie, Mr. Goose. He was having so much fun riding through the living room and Daady was having fun watching the two of play until Moomie came along. End of fun. End of Daddy, Mr. Goose and Levi being happy.

All week long it was, "Levi, no!" Levi, drop it." Levi, Levi, Levi---she's going to wear out my name and I'm only not even 9 months old yet. If she does, will she have to start calling me by my middle name? Me doesn't even know how to pronounce it. All I know is it's spelled s-t-r-a-u-s-s and me thinks it is going to sound like a sissy name.

Levi did do one bad thing this week but I'm not going to tell you about it. It might get back to Moomie and she hasn't found the friend I brought in the house. To tell you the truth I can't find her either. She got away.

It's nap time, me has to go. Oh, guess what! I hear Moomie say we get to go back to obedience school on Monday. Maybe someone there will set Moomie straight about what boy puppies are suppose to do. Keep your paws crossed for her learning before she turns me into a girlie dog. ©

Bad Boy Puppy

Levi is turning into a bad boy puppy making me as proud as an alley cat that just found a plate of fried chicken sitting on a picnic table. That goodie two shoes act he had going there for so long must have been him making sure Mom and Dad fell in love with him until he was positive the ink had dried on his adoption papers.

He's had quite a week. He discovered the joy of pulling threads in a throw rug. The floor is minus the rug now. He figured out that decorative couch cushions are just stuffies without eyes and lips to kiss. The cushions are lined up like soldiers on the back of the couch now where he can't reach them. Yet. He also made his Houdini escape from the dog yard that I wrote about the last time I blogged, and Levi learned to chew paper and pull house plants apart. But the biggest bad boy stunt of all happened the day before yesterday when he peed in the house for the first time in two weeks.

Well, what did Mom expect with the peeing on the carpet. She'd completely forgotten to let him out at 10 PM and by midnight my baby brother was tired and he had forgotten to try working on his canine-to-human mental telepathy. Mom caught him in the act and made the same mistake she did the last time she caught him. She called him a 'bad boy' in a loud, angry voice and he paid her back in the same way he did the other two times she did that. He didn't peeing again for over twelve hours, making her feel really bad for his tiny little bladder. But three times is the charm and I'm hoping Mom knows by now that Levi's a lot different than me and Jason were at his age. We could let the scolding go in one ear and it was forgotten ten minutes later when it came out the other ear. Baby Levi keeps it in his brain and truly gets his feelings hurt. He wants Mom to always be syrupy sweet, full of praise and wiggly all over the way humans get when they are using that positive reinforcement stuff. So he's trying really hard to learn the house rules...unlike me who always thought that rules were best when you broke them and could then watch Mom and Dad get all puffed up about it.

The next day after the soiling the carpet caper, like clock work Mom took Levi outside every two hours and stayed long enough to read a whole chapter in Whistling in the Dark and when she'd come in Dad would use one of the few words at his post-stroke disposal and would ask, "Pee?" and Mom would have to report "No" and feel bad all over again for yelling. ©
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National Stuffie Appreciation Day

In honor of National Stuffie Appreciation Day, May 8th, I'm sharing photos of Levi's and my stuffed toys. Levi is using all my old hand-me-downs. Mom says he can get some of his very own when he's old enough to go shopping on a leash.

This is the Blue family, Mr. Dippy Dog and Miss Teddy-Do. Mom likes the blue family because she can see them on our gray floors and Dad can run over them with his wheelchair and not get stuck.



When I was earth bound, I hated the White family, Mistress Lamb and Wacky Duck, because they were too noisy for my tastes but my baby brother loves to make them squeak and squeal.



Levi and Wacky Duck.



These are the Rainbow Buddies. Both of them were fun to play with and triangle was my very favorite stuffie. Today, Levi got his first lesson on retrieval with the rainbow ball. There is a bigger triangle in the closet but Mom is waiting for Levi to grow up a little bit more before giving it to him. I used to stick my head right inside of that triangle and Levi is trying to do the same thing with the little one.



This is a photo of my very first stuffie and it was taken on the day my humans brought me home for the first time. Can you believe it! They made me live in a cardboard box until I got housebroke. You can just barely find me in this photo. My eyes are in between the yellow and blue.



When I was three years old my Dad sent away in the mail for this Energizer Rabbit stuffie. He really did spoil me rotten. Mom sold it when they downsized, but there's still a little one packed away.



This is Dad's stuffie from when he was a toddler in the '40s. Boy, did Dad get mad when I tried to take him for a walk one day. Teddy lives in a glass cage now.



This is another of my dad's stuffies, Mr. Froggie. He won the green guy playing a carnival game called 'frog flopping' back when he and Mom were young. Dad would never let anyone play with Mr. Froggie either. He lives on a high shelf in the library.



These are Mom's stuffies from the '50s. They do things. One walks and one has a radio in its nose. The small one is into voodoo, he's full of pins.



This stuffie lives in the guest bedroom. I feel sorry for German Dog because no one plays with him. Mom says she rescued him from a flea market, so I guess the guest bedroom is a better place to live than a flea market. I hate fleas.



Happy National Stuffie Appreciation Day!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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