Frodo here. I am moving. To Florida. I felt I should let you know. For all of those readers who delight in our snowy photos, I am here to inform you that snow is not all that it is cracked up to be. At least a certain “type” of snow. The type that has a rather high moisture content – which humans refer to as “wet snow”. True, it is perfect for creating snow persons – which provide an excellent peeing target. But…snow that works well to create snow persons also creates snow balls. On fur.

The other morning we had such a variety of snow. We had not yet had a visit from the gentleman who does our plowing. Which means I had not yet had the opportunity to throw myself in a frenzy against the front door which I do while he is releasing us from our snowy enclave. Despite the lack of plowing, her highness announced that the beatnik and I would be going up to the road to get the paper. Now all of you who live in less moist climates are envisioning dogs who joyfully leap into the frozen, milky colored wasteland. And of course, we did. However, that jubilant initial response lasted all of 25 feet. We were not even half way up to the road, and I suddenly weighed 10 lbs more. The beatnik doesn’t seem to have as big a problem – probably because he doesn’t sport a long fluffy coat. His feet were not suddenly the size of footballs.

Her highness realized my plight and said we could go back -as soon as we got the paper. I would have preferred that the two of them leave me and continue the journey without me- but she insisted that it wasn’t “that far.” Perhaps I should tie 40 lb bags of frozen peas around her ankles and let her experience my agony. I trudged to the road and promptly (as prompt as one can be while suddenly weighing twice as much) turned for home. Meanwhile, the beatnik was leaping up and down- racing back and forth across the driveway in sheer joy. I just glared at him.And to make an already agonizing situation worse- two guesses what her highness said on the way back down. If you guessed “It sure is hot out here”- you are wrong. She said the two words frequently heard on a morning walk. “Hurry up.” Hurry up is not a reference to walking speed. It is a command to poop. Like we don’t know that we should poop on our morning walk. Mind you, sometimes Brother Viktor did need the reminder.

Well. Just TRY to poop when you are sporting a snowball coat. By now, snowballs were not just on my feet – but in places that were even MORE uncomfortable. Every time I tried to “assume the position” those snowballs tugged at certain areas of my anatomy- which was VERY uncomfortable. The beatnik- who had happily jumped into the snow and left his telltale trail of poop (which had settled into the snow), just looked at me with fascination. I grumbled as I tried to produce SOMETHING. Finally after several false starts, I was able to produce. We continued on our journey back to the house – with me getting heavier with each step.

I was never so happy to walk into the front hall. But then, to add insult to an already horribly injurious situation, her highness announced that I needed to “come into the garage.” Great. Now what.

She took me over to the tub and somehow lifted all 100 lbs of me. Imagine my horror. A bath? Could this day get any worse?

But no – she simply ran warm water over my snowballs in an effort to quickly melt them. Meanwhile I was doing the bathtub hop – where I go back and forth every time water hits a limb.

The beatnik gave me a happy smile as I emerged from my baptism. Not funny. Not funny at all.

Two days after the “wet snow” we had “cold snow.” A LOT of cold snow. The fluffy variety that is useless if attempting to make a snow person. So that should be better you might assume. Fluffy snow means colder temperatures. And you know what that’s like? Like walking on fire. Suddenly even the beatnik was limping.

Yes. I am moving to Florida. Or Texas. Or Mexico. Her highness better keep those pockets full of treats. Or she is going to have one very constipated dog….

Have a good one. Peace and paws up.

Yo. Bonjour readers. Elroy here. “The Boss” – or Einstein, as Viktor liked to call him, has instructed that we need to carry on the torch for “brother” Viktor and write this blog thing. And if The Boss says it is so, who am I to question?

Brother Viktor. The dude who often grumbled when I would play bow and try to engage him in games. I sometimes called him the grey grump.

Wait a minute. Was that a fur ball rolling across the floor? Let me check it out. Yup. Boss fur. Now. What was I talking about? Oh yeah. The grey grump. Sure. YOU all thought he was happy go lucky. Yeah- not so much with me. He DID mellow over the years. But. Wait. Did I see something outside? What IS that??? I must bark to scare it away. Oh. It’s my reflection in the glass.

What was I saying? Oh Viktor. He never let me do hair styling on him like The Boss does. And we never ran around or played much. BUT, in the last couple of months we would actually sleep near each other. A big difference from early days. When you look at early photos he would be rather appalled to have to sit next to me. But I eventually won him over. Because I’m lovable. Who cannot love me? And ya know what? I really miss the grey grump.

My view of the world is different from the mops (the PONs). For example, both of the mops live(d) for food. Canine vacuum machines. To me, food is overrated. It’s not like her highness prepares gourmet meals all the time. Mind you, she does switch food for moi. Because I don’t always eat. I come by the name “Picky Picard” very honestly. It’s a trait inherent in many of us. Who can concentrate on food when there’s so many OTHER things in the world to pay attention to?! Flying leaves. Butterflies. Snowflakes. Dandelion fluff. Air.

I think we Picards have a keener sense of hearing than the mops. They have too much hair on those floppy ears to pick up the tiniest of sounds that we Pick-ards do. I stand on the highest ground around so I can see in the distance AND listen. I love standing absolutely still and observing. Actually, I have two things I REALLY love. (Besides cuddling so close to her highness that I try to crawl into her body.) Yeah – I love observation paralysis. And I love running. Both of my favorite things are completely different. The running part often gets me in trouble. Humans need to chill. I know where I’m going. Or I think I do. I was a gazelle in another life.

I know there are plenty of Picards who enjoy obedience. Me? Not so much. I’m not food driven, and while I DO like toys, they get rather boring pretty quickly. I do LOVE it when her highness throws a toy. But hey, why bother bringing it back? She’s just going to throw it again. Hello? I figured that out.

One thing I have learned from The Boss, is that grooming is not fun. True- I thankfully do not have a coat like the mops. But The Boss has demonstrated how if you look like you are being tortured, the process is shorter. Cool idea. That guy teaches me A LOT. I respect The Boss. He’s my idol.

One thing I do like more that the mops is sheep. Yup. THEY were cool. Might have been beginner’s luck, but I passed something called an Instinct test. Her highness hopes to try me out with more sheep this year. Viktor told me the sheep leave interesting morsels – but remember, I’m picky about edibles. I suppose though, I should give them a try the next time. I mean they are locally sourced.

Yeah. We’ll try to keep doing this writing thing. Hey. Is that a bird outside? Oh. He’s gone. Um. Oh yeah. This blog thing. I’ll try it for awhile. If I don’t get bored. Mind you, I suppose I do need to represent my Picard constituency. Whatever that means.

That’s my intro. I’m done now.

Have a good one. Peace and paws up.

Salutations blog readers. It is Frodo.

As you know, we are mourning the passing of brother Viktor. Brother Viktor. That makes him sound like some kind of religious figure – and as you all know, nothing could have been further from the truth. Let’s face it- he is the dog who stole bananas from the counter – and ate them – peel and all. He also had an affection for dryer lint. I could NEVER understand THAT craving. He also like to eat pockets. Remember her highness’ new coat? That incident was not appreciated.

He is also the dog who would make repeated unsuccessful attempts to catch a rabbit. And would often go AWOL while doing so. I on the other hand, know that rodent chasing in the woods results in dirt and subsequent grooming. I’ll take a pass on that game.

But then Viktor would willingly participate in grooming – and would literally do anything for a treat. Except smile and pose for the camera. While there are dozens of smiling shots of the grey haired cyclone, those did not come without fistfuls of treats. Snow shots were particularly challenging as he preferred to bury his head in the snow.

Viktor would fetch until he was ready to collapse. Yours truly plays for just so long and then gets bored with the monotony. I find it a rather tedious game.

Let’s be perfectly honest. When one looks up the definition of “good dog” ( with regard to obedient behavior), his photo is not depicted.

However, we ALL mourn his loss. Greatly. Our household is very different. Her highness, as he dubbed our human, is feeling very sad. She said, “Viktor had a purpose in life and he fulfilled it. He never won any remarkable dog shows but he was a champion to so many. I am blessed that I was so lucky to have him in my life. Eight years is not enough. But then, no time is ever “enough.”

No. No time with us canines is EVER enough for you humans.

I understand that many of you reading were fans of my brother. And I am here to make an announcement. It is with great trepidation that Elroy and I have decided, in Viktor’s honor, to continue sharing our tales. This will not be easy, as my brother “the wild child” was different from both of us. And people liked him. They liked to read his stories. Because humans do things like slow down to see an accident. And Viktor’s views were often like a train wreck.

Obviously he was entertaining. But I am here to announce that I have a voice as well. A very loud voice. And one that I choose to use often. Particularly at meal time. And why would one bark incessantly at meal time? Because, frankly, I am giving her highness instructions to speed up her meal preparation performance. She’s too slow. Way too slow. Imagine if we sheepdogs were so slow when guarding or moving our sheep. The flock would be scattered in all directions. We are used to speed and precision. We expect the same from humans at mealtime.

Yes. I have a voice. And tales to tell. I am the “good dog.” Or I have proclaimed myself as such. I am also brilliant. Although when her highness witnesses my digging at ceramic tile in an effort to become comfortable, the label “smart” is NOT one that comes to mind.

No barrier can contain me. I did not obtain the name PONdini without escaping from multiple enclosures. Mind you, I did wear down my canine teeth pulling on chain link fence. Which is unusual as we are rarely in the fenced pen. Still, I would not be in any ads for canine dental products.

I confess to being “sensitive” when it comes to feet examinations. And grooming in general. But that’s because I am smart. I see grooming as a total waste of time – given that I will look ragged within minutes of grooming completion.

I am more intent than brother Viktor was – and I take my role as guardian much more seriously. I own our property. Our road. The county. And any place that I arrive first. I am proud of my ability to throw myself gnashing and roaring against the front door when the oil delivery man comes. Mind you, all the delivery man need do is pull out a grooming tool like a comb, and I’ll make a hasty retreat…but he doesn’t know that. I am a protector extraordinaire.

I will be sharing this space with Elroy – who Viktor dubbed the FG. Or Friendly Giant. Sometimes new readers did not know what FG stood for. There are no doubt “other” names that one can conjure up using those letters…

Elroy will be sharing his voice in the next blog posting. You will see that his voice is different again. And his views are different. Very very different. The crazy beatnik dog (as I call him) has a totally unique way of viewing things. I have diagnosed him as having attention challenges. Mind you, he’s the same dog that can stand on a rock and stare at his surroundings (without moving a muscle) for 10 minutes. Indeed. I call him a “Punk”-ard because his hair often resembles a punk rocker. Yes, the Punk-ard is different…

On behalf of our little family, we extend our sincere thanks for your outpouring of sympathy on the loss of the little grey dog who was larger than life. We loved sharing him with you. And now…although we have big paw prints to fill…his memory will live on…

Peace. And paws up.

Hey. It’s me – Viktor here. Well, not REALLY here. I’m somewhere else. But I’ll always live on in the heart of my human – and in memories for many of you reading this.

My job on earth was done. I had a purpose. To tell my story and to live a large life. I had a goal to make people laugh. And sometimes I actually made them cry. I know that my human has cried buckets of tears in the past few days. But I really don’t want her to do that. Nor do I want you to cry.

I want my human to be happy for the amazing times we had – and for the fact that I was able to expand her world exponentially. She has met wonderful people from all around the world. Just because of me. And OK, I guess my brothers in crime also deserve some credit too. It has been an incredible journey.

If you are wondering, I arrived at a very cool place. Coincidentally, I arrived with my Saint Bernard friend, Dudley, and a cute PON girl I just met, named Bloom. The place is just as you would imagine – or I would imagine. Free treats, lots of food and plenty of bunnies to chase. Paxton is here – and I immediately greeted Bucket Head with a nip on his nose. Good times. I’ve met many canine friends here including Harper, Beamish, Guinness, Schubert and Barney who also once owned my human. As well there are plenty of others here- Emzy, Jazz, Sobe, Abby, Hudson, Nello, Cognac, Dorey, Nanny, Bruin, Charlie, Chumley, Jessy, Ozzie, Meg, Cajun, Cabot, Josey, Chimo, Mischa, Sophie, Solo, Java, Chinook….the list goes on. The saying that “all dogs go to heaven” must be true. I’m not sure how I got here, but I’m behaving so nobody changes their mind….

Speaking of people from around the world, a special man from France who was a regular blog reader, arrived just a few days before me. It has been a pleasure to meet him.

And of course, my human’s mother is here and offered to share her yogurt container with me. I also met her father for the first time. I had no trouble picking him out – he’s a dog lover just like her highness. He’s pretty good at playing fetch.

Speaking of which, it’s about time for me to play.

Please know that I’m OK, as are all your canine friends who are here. We live on in your hearts. And we’ll forever and ever be your guardians. We are always watching…

Have a good one. Peace and paws up.

On September 20, 2014 a little dog in Nova Scotia, Canada decided he had a story to tell. And one story became two, three, hundreds and well over a thousand. Over the past few days I have really come to know that you loved the wild moppet – and his never-ending tales of mischief. I am moved to know that he has touched your life – as he has mine. I’ve lost many dogs, and each one holds a special place in my heart. And sometimes that place is extra big.

Viktor always had such an incredible joy and love of life. We could all learn lessons from him about enjoying every day. I will miss his unbounded exuberance and his race to the treat jar. His love of fetching. And his wild hair when he returned from the woods after a bunny chase. And Viktor always did things “his way.” Even at the very end. We all know how challenging and gut wrenching it is to make that loving “decision” when a dog is critically ill. Viktor took the “decision” away from me. He fell asleep on his own.

This has been an incredibly difficult time. It truly has shattered my soul.

But Viktor didn’t live for sadness and although it’s only right to grieve, one must look at how to honor his “legacy”…

He leaves behind two “brothers” whose voices and views on the world are different. VERY different. But the intellectual and the beatnik have their own stories to tell….in Viktor’s honor. We just need some time before we begin sharing their tales…

Thank you for reading… and your love for a shaggy grey dog.

Viktor is failing.

I so appreciate all of your suggestions, and overwhelming support. I love him beyond the stars – and I know that so many of you love him as well. Right now, Though, I need some space and time . I won’t be responding to messages right now.

You know my love for him – and I know you know I will do everything reasonably possible for him. I know I share him, but right now he is all mine. Thank you for understanding.

To begin, I want to thank all who are praying and sending messages of hope and support. I have come to understand that many of you feel a closeness to this wonderful dog that is hard to imagine given that you have never met him. I have shared everything about him – the good and often the bad! I can truly feel the love that many of you have for him.

He remains critically critically ill. They called yesterday afternoon and said I should come. I raced over but by the time I got there he had rallied. A bit. His ammonia levels are extremely high – causing his brain fog and semi-comatose state. They have been working to reduce those.

He could be seen at the vet college which is a 4 hour drive, but he is in such a poor shape, they didn’t know if he would survive the ride. I would have to drive him. They weren’t recommending the journey.

Last night at midnight they again called with concerns. He showed decline in some blood values, but improvement in some. For example, his ammonia levels had improved. They do not know what the cause is for his problems. Some things point to liver problems but his overall liver function is NOT in crisis. An ultrasound was not remarkable. Some of his kidney values are off – but again, some are normal.

They have tested for lepto and tick illnesses. The results were negative.

There are at least 6 vets who have been consulted on his case, and they are stumped. They said if I didn’t hear from them through the night, no news was good news. Or at least stable news. It’s 6AM. No calls from them. I will call shortly and will go over after the other two boys have been cared for. It is nothing short of agonizing.

Thank you for all the love and concern. It is challenging to write this update – because he remains such a very sick boy. But they do not feel he is in discomfort or extreme pain. That I could not bear. As long as he shows improvement in at least one area, we will continue to fight the fight. The problem is, we don’t know who the enemy is….

Linda here. Viktor really needs your prayers and strong positive wishes. He deteriorated over the past few days and became increasingly listless and weak. I took him to the Animal Emergency Hospital yesterday, as our regular vet was not open for the holiday. They have run numerous tests and aren’t exactly sure what is going on. His bloodwork and urinalysis is showing varied results.

They said that they would call if there was any serious change in his condition. It’s just after 5AM and no calls through the night – so no news is good news. Or at very least, stable news.

The other two musketeers are not sure what’s going on. Mind you, Frodo would have been more than thrilled to get Viktors’s dinner portion….

Sadly, my sister leaves today. We will weather on.