Howdy blogaroos! Squirmy Wormy here on this chilly Thursday. Holy moly we have had some cold weather the past few days. Mind you, we canines don’t REALLY care. At least the canines in this house because we have long coats. I know some of my distant relatives- like the Doberman family, and the Italian Greyhound family probably don’t love these frigid temps. But in this house, we would stay outdoors all day if the Warden allowed us time in the “yard.” Even the Boss would be totally content to lie outside on the deck. But no- she calls us in after a few minutes. The Coyote and I are continuing our excavation digging in the yard – but it’s a bit tougher with frozen ground. Not impossible though.

Plus want to know the best new yard addition? (Besides ALL of our toys which I have taken out and are now frozen to the ground. I can’t even move Tuggie – which is a real dilemma. ) But the NEW addition is the Christmas tree! You see when the Warden, Sue and Keith took it down, they tossed it over the railing on the deck and into the yard. To be dragged into the woods where it can decompose. Except the dragging part never happened. So it’s still in yard. Where we boys hang out. So you KNOW what it has become. Pee mail central. We have all left multiple messages on it – in the unlikely event that some random dog will jump the fence into our yard and read our messages.

Yesterday the Warden was feeling lazy – so she decided that instead of three separate walks, she would take me and the Boss together. One might think that is an easy task. But truth be told, it’s chaos. First off, she wants us to poop at home, so she doesn’t have to juggle poop bags, and two leashes. So that means she says “hurry up” about 52 times. We actually did both comply with her request, after I repeatedly kept trying to jump on the Boss. Anyway, we pooped, so she figured she could take us up to the golf course for our walk. And that was fantastic for the first 10 minutes, until the Boss decided to poop again. So here she is, dressed like a stuffed astronaut, holding onto our leashes, and taking off her mitts in the sub zero temperatures to pick up the deposit. She decided to let us free- which was fantastic because we could totally run and roll. Ten minutes later, yours truly decided to poop again. Off came the mitts, and now she had two bags to carry. So much for pooping at home.

While she was trudging along in the cold, the Boss and I were having a grand time. We both love to roll on icy patches – IT’S THE BEST.

As we start getting close to the road, the Warden wants to put our leashes back on. And that’s where the real chaos plays out. As soon as I know I’m about to be cuffed, I hit the deck, and roll on my back. My feet are paddling in the air. The Boss is much more cooperative, when he isn’t barking in the Warden’s face. Getting us leashed up is not easy. And then, once I am all leashed up, I roll again. And again. Once I agree to move, I try to pull ahead of the Boss, like it’s a race to get home.

Anyone who sees the walking or should I say waddling over-stuffed woman being pulled by two shaggy beasts while swinging two poop bags, must be totally amused. We would make a great cartoon.

Meanwhile, the Coyote gets a solo walk to the lake- with the Warden repeatedly shouting “don’t pull!” He doesn’t always listen.

But I’m thinking that part of the whole non-listening think may actually be a language thing…Read on.

Today happens to be Public Radio Broadcasting Day – and what’s the first story I found on Public Radio? One about dogs! And how we can differentiate when different languages are being spoken. Give it a listen:

Maybe that’s why the Coyote doesn’t respond to the Warden’s requests. Maybe he comprehends French better than English. And maybe if she used Polish with me, I would respond to everything. Maybe.

The Warden decided to try a little experiment by speaking gibberish to us. And she taped it. The Coyote and I just stare at her like she is crazy. The Boss, on the other hand, seems to comprehend what she’s saying. Or – more likely – he doesn’t CARE what she’s saying – he just wants to get in the last word. And of course, he does react to intonation.

So we can blame the whole non-listening thing on language. Or just the fact that we don’t WANT to listen. That’s a possibility…..

Anyway- time to pull. I mean walk.

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

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