It’s not funny

Howdy doody blogaroos. Squirmy here on a terrific Tuesday. Well. Terrific for some of us.

You see, My Enforcer has a problem. Well, three problems if you count all of us. But the current problem is related to the wonderful relationship that the Coyote and I have. I mean it’s super duper awesome that she can live in a household with three boys (two of whom are “intact”) and we all get along famously. And it wasn’t all that long ago that The Boss had “all his parts.” Until that orb ordeal a few years ago. Parts or no parts- he is still the BOSS in this house.

But back to our happy abode. So we all get along great. Actually too great. Yeah the Humpty Dumpty game is a bit of an annoyance to my Enforcer at times (we on the other hand love it) but it’s really not a HUGE problem. But the other issue is the “styling game” which the Coyote and I have recently come to really enjoy. And the thing is, when we play the hair styling game, it also includes trimming. I mentioned this before, but it was this past weekend, while I was being groomed, that My Enforcer realized the extent of our mutual trimming. I had straight line “trim” evidence on the top of my head, on my ears, on my side and on one leg. I’m a bit of a mess.

Now when she goes out somewhere, yours truly is in a crate. So this isn’t happening when she’s not around. It happens if we run outside to play and roll on the lawn. And let’s face it – she’s not watching us every second of the day. She does need to shower and use the bathroom sometimes. And vacuum. And mow the lawn. And do laundry. And make calls. And cook. Honestly, 15 minutes doesn’t go by that she isn’t checking to see what we’re up to. But we are getting GOOD at this. And we’re fast!

So you can say, oh well, you have a funky haircut. But here’s the deal- if you want to be in a beauty pageant, a funky haircut is for poodles. Not PONs. Admittedly I’m not entered in anything any time soon, but if we keep this up, I could be starting a new beauty trend. Punk PON.

Like I said, she’s happy we love each other, but short of someone always being sequestered, she’s not sure what to do? Douse me in bitter apple? Cover me in plastic wrap? Any ideas would be greatly appreciated!!!

Otherwise, hmmmm… I won’t talk about the rally match I was in on Sunday. It was a practice thing. OK. I’ll talk about it. My first run was not bad after the first two stations. Once I got rolling, I was pretty OK. But the second run? Epic disaster. The start line was by the entrance door. Like 4 feet away. And people were coming in and going out. It was too much for my puppy brain. I couldn’t concentrate AT ALL. My Enforcer decided to abort the course. No point in making a bad thing worse. It was proof that not enough proofing does not make you bomb proof. If that makes sense.

I seem to be going through the TBF period. That’s teenage brain fart. I seem to have forgotten everything. Or I just want to do things freestyle- my own way. Our wonderful coach, Jane assured My Enforcer that it’s a phase and I’ll get back into the game. Paws crossed.

Well, time for our morning walks. Then I’ll check to see what my stylist is up to. Unless My Enforcer catches us first…

Have a good one. Peace and paws up. Stay safe.