Howdy blogaroos. It’s Squirmy here on another manic Monday. Let the week begin!

We had a pretty nice weekend- no rain so that’s always good news. On Saturday, I went to an obedience fun match. No scores or prizes – just a chance to practice doing an obedience routine kinda like you would have in a real trial. I did OK overall. I’m still having trouble standing still like a statue on the “Stand for Exam” exercise. I suppose that’s no surprise given that ricocheting is my favorite thing to do. During the stand, I feel an overwhelming urge to sniff the judge and I do think about jumping up, and to do so I end up moving my feet. Fail. I did a redo and I was perfect. But there’s no redo in a real trial. So I guess I’m not quite ready just yet for the big leagues. I would have shown you a short video of me performing- but when I looked at the pants and socks the Warden was wearing, I decided to save her the embarrassment. I never even noticed what a fashion disaster she was. Not that I really care usually. But this time even I felt sorry for her lack of fashion sense. I think being sequestered for years with COVID will do that to someone. Add to that the retirement mode and well – is there some fashion makeover show I can get her on? She needs help.

And speaking of makeovers, yesterday was torture day for two members of our household. Because one needed the makeover – and the other did it. Who am I talking about? The Boss and the Warden. Now we all know how the Boss hates being groomed. And frankly, the Warden hates grooming him. It’s a literal wrestling match. And although she never lets it go for more than 1-2 weeks max, with the warmer weather lately she somehow let it go for 3 weeks. Oh he had a cursory brushing in that time, but not the complete once over where every inch of skin is examined and every little tiny gnarly in every private area imaginable, is brushed out. You cannot even BEGIN to understand how torturous the process is for both of them. First she lifts him onto the grooming table. No wait. FIRST she has to go and catch him. If she makes the mistake of saying “ you need a brushing” he is GONE. We’re talking out the screen door and down the deck stairs. Calling him is futile. The Warden has to go and get a leash, capture him, and lead him back to the house. Once he’s on the grooming table, she gently flips the knotted wooly lump onto his side. She has the pockets of her grooming apron FILLED with kibble. And the wrestling match begins. She brushes a bit, and he tries to roll into a sphinx position. She has to push him back on his side. She brushes and as soon as she stops to take hair out of the brush, he rolls back into the sphinx position and he expects a treat. She has to push him back onto his side. Actually, he wants a treat for every area brushed. I counted. Because I was watching. It was like 359 treats. Give or take a hundred. And heaven forbid you have to brush a sensitive area. Like his feet. He screams. The Warden had a fan going, and thought about opening the garage door – but it was only 8:30 in the morning and she figured people within a 5 km radius would think a murder was occurring. Now he doesn’t cry ALL the time. Just like 25% of the time. And when he’s not crying, he’s panting. He tries to turn over. She moves him back into position and gives him a treat. After almost 2 hours yesterday, they were both panting. But the funny thing is- he’s moaning and panting and as soon as they are done he pops up and is completely fine. I must make a confession here….part of the reason he was doubly gnarly was because yours truly loves to do makeovers on him. I lick his face, the top of his head, his ears, his neck….So I guess I’m partly to blame for his sad state. But not that I’ll stop trying my makeovers – I just haven’t perfected my craft yet. Don’t worry – I’ll keep working on it….

Time for walks. I have to check what shoes and pants the Warden is wearing. Good thing there aren’t many people out at 6:15 AM….

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

Yo. Blog people. Elroy here for a change. That little shark likes to babble on, so I let him. At least it keeps him busy for a bit of time.

So what’s new with me? Besides being a water fetching wonder? Yeah. That’s me. WFW. Water fetching wonder. I like the sound of that. Not to mention the fact that when I go out in the water, the little shark mop can’t catch me. Yeah – the dude still likes to use those teeth. But don’t kid yourself – I try to hump the little mop any chance I get. And he returns the favor with hump attempts – or he bites me. Yup. I generally start the chaos- and he returns my advances with nibbles. Not full on bites. Just nibbles. Then I squeak. He stops. And I go back for more. It’s awesome.

So all was nirvana the last little while with regard to the “dietary world”. I was actually eating all my meals. Well- except for a short hunger protest when Aunt Sue left. I don’t deal with change well. Anyway, I’ve been back on my eating two square meals a day schedule. Blueberries are still 50-50. But I’ve always been that way with the blue orbs. I rarely refuse a meal but IF I’m ever going to skip one- it’s breakfast. Except Thursday. And that’s when the drama began. So I ate breakfast AND blueberries and all was perfect in the dietary world. But supper rolled around, and I said “nah.” Her Highness thought it a bit odd, but just picked up my bowl and figured I would dive into breakfast. But daybreak arrived yesterday, and I said “nah” again. Plus I didn’t want blueberries. Or bread. Or biscuits. BUT I did want to snack on grass on the lawn.

Well. Here’s the deal. Want to freak out your human? Refuse to eat. Squeak. (Like you always do anyway). And listen while your stomach roars like a lion because it’s empty. And look pathetic. Unless the mop comes around. Then look completely fine – and try to hump him.

Her Highness tried to feed me numerous items. And I did the clenched jaw thing where she can’t even pop a treat in my mouth. Futile.

She went out for a bit and I happily greeted her when she came home. I seemed FINE, otherwise but I was still practicing my fasting cleanse. Oh yeah – and pees and poops were fine.

Her Highness called Aunt Sue and said she was concerned. Aunt Sue said to just watch me. And give me another day. While Her Highness was talking to Aunt Sue, she got some tiny pieces of cheese from the fridge. She had sequestered the mops, and had nonchalantly come over to me with the cheese. I took a piece. She put Aunt Sue on speaker phone and told her what a good boy I was. I ate another piece. Aunt Sue told me how good I was. Do I have these women trained or what?! Not only did I continue to eat cheese (while being praised by both women) I ate a whole handful of freeze dried raw kibble. Of course I did. I was hungry. Her Highness was SO relieved. She didn’t need to take me to emergency. Wish you could see my eye roll.

Anyway, the little mop had class yesterday and when he got back, Her Highness announced that I was going on an outing. Ya shudda seen the looks on the faces on the mops. Me. The non-obedience dog going on an outing.

Turns out the Bluenose- the famous Canadian schooner on the back of the dime – (and which was built here in Nova Scotia before it sank) was coming to a little town in our “neighborhood”. Not the boat that sank. This is a replica. So it’s the Bluenose II. Clever.

Anyway, it was an afternoon of festivities including music and a BBQ. So guess who got to go. Yours truly because I’m the ambassador dog in the family. Yup. Slap a Nova Scotian tartan bandanna on me – and I’ll let anybody pet me. Seriously. The dog who has had no obedience classes can march through a crowd like I own the place. I’m calm. I’m cool. I’m sociable. Pretty much the antithesis of the mops. I even posed for some photos. Yawn.

Her Highness was so happy with my behavior and even more happy that when I got home, I ate ALL my supper. It doesn’t take much to make the woman happy. Eat, pee and poop.

Today the shark mop goes for some practice obedience match. Blah blah. So he can heel like a wind-up toy and do a down stay. BUT can he sit in front of the Bluenose surrounded by kids and even a dog or two? Doubtful. So who is the obedient one???? Plus I know how to get loads of attention. Don’t eat. How smart can you get?

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

Howdy blogaroos. Squirmy here. If you can’t find me in the above photo – it’s no wonder. Don’t look too long – it’s pretty much impossible. But I AM there. Read on to find out why this photo came about and some new things we learned about me this week…

So it’s been an interesting few days. We learned the following.

1. I’m a sensitive (rather stubborn) boy who doesn’t recover well when told “no.”

2. While I have always been a dog who stares at puddles and water, I’m not so keen about going in them.

3. I have changed my attitude about fast moving long-eared wildlife. In the past, I pretty much ignored them. Pretty much….

So we won’t rehash the whole woolie experience. I think I’d like to try it again sometime. In the meantime, the Warden will wave flags at me to get me used to them.

As for the water thing….yesterday, the Warden decided to take us to the lake again, and this time she took a favorite fetch toy and a really long line for the Coyote. All the way to the lake I kept trying to grab the toy. I LOVE fetch. Well. IMAGINE my shock when she got to the water’s edge and she hurled the thing INTO THE WATER! The Coyote leapt in and off he went. Remember- this is a dog who doesn’t play fetch on dry land. I watched with wide eyes as he grabbed the toy and began swimming for shore. With the Warden reeling him in. He dropped the toy on shore and shook himself off. I was in shock. He looked at the Warden and she asked if he wanted to go again. He jumped around in place. Again she hurled the toy. I started crying and racing along the shoreline. At one point I went to a spot where there were a lot of trees and branches and I slipped and found myself in the water. I raced out. Again the Coyote brought back the toy. This went on several times. With me crying and barking. The Warden tried to encourage me to go in – she even went in herself, but I was having no part of it. Much as I wanted that toy.

The Warden wanted to try to get me to go in- but she couldn’t wrangle me while holding onto the Coyote. Because if he’s let loose – he’s gone. All the time she’s begging me and holding onto him, the Boss is eating grass. She notices and yells at him to stop – because who likes grass puke? He takes off to find a spot out of sight to graze.

She decides she’ll take the Boss and Coyote back to the house and she’ll “work with me” alone. We race home – she puts them in the fenced yard, and I happily follow her back to the lake because she’s got the coveted fetch toy. When we get to the lake, she steps in – and encourages me to come in. It’s at this point that I realize her intentions. I back away from the shoreline. She steps out – and calls me in that fake “come here” voice that’s used when you’re about to be groomed or get a bath. I know that voice. I take off into the woods. If you can’t see me in the above photo – it’s because I am self-hidden. I’m really hard to spot. You can find the answer below. If it even helps. Anyway, after repeatedly trying to entice me by tossing the toy on the ground, she decided to give up. Just as she went to get the toy, I raced out of my hiding place, grabbed it and headed for home. Swimming lesson 1 – epic fail.

And now onto the wildlife….Later that day she took me and the Boss out for our nightly land fetch. The Coyote doesn’t participate- he only fetches in water. After a few fetches, we do some obedience training. While each of us works, the other guy is supposed to stay in a down stay and watch. I’m pretty good at this exercise. The Boss – not so much. He cheats. He gets up because he wants the treats. But like I said – I’m good at this…

So the Boss and the Warden were doing some heel work and they were trotting toward me, when the Warden noticed me suddenly put my head up- and I was looking up the luge run driveway. She turned to see what I was looking at and spotted a bunny – and before she could say “nooooo” – I was off. With the Boss behind me. The bunny ran around a large garden bed- and the Warden saw him sitting there, while we were on the other side. “Go bunny” she shouted- just as I came around the bed. He’s still a bit faster than me – and off into the woods he went with me in pursuit. The Boss plays for a bit – but doesn’t want sticks in his coat so he doesn’t go in the woods. The Warden could hear us in the woods – just as the bunny popped out and raced across the lawn. Followed 15 seconds later by yours truly. “ENOUGH” the Warden shouted. So I reluctantly returned to my “stay” position. And she and the Boss carried on their training. Well. It wasn’t 10 minutes later – and GUESS who came back?! I think he likes me. And we had a repeat performance of our previous chase. I still didn’t catch him. He just needs to get a flag….

Oh – here’s the photo which shows where I am during my swimming lesson. You can just barely see the bridge of my muzzle and my white hair. The Warden took this from in the water. Better her than me.

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

Greetings blog aficionados. Frodo here for your reading pleasure on this the 5th of July. And according to the calendar which features unusual historical tidbits, on this day in 1994, a gentleman by the name of Jeff Bezos founded a little company, known as Amazon. He reportedly chose the name because it was at the beginning of the alphabet. If that was the case, one would think the company would have been called Aardvark. No doubt, as some resources say, he also considered the river by the same name. I suppose that makes sense.

Regardless of its beginnings, the company offers a huge on-line marketplace. Need an item? Check Amazon. Except for non-aquarium pets. Dogs, cats, snakes etc cannot be sold. Thank goodness. You can though, buy aquarium pets like fish, snails and shrimp. None of whom require daily walks.

The following is a list of “cute” dog products featured in the Country Living magazine which are sold on Amazon:

https://www.countryliving.com/shopping/g39972023/best-amazon-dog-products/

Personally, I thought there was an over abundance in this article of attire related items. I am here to pronounce I do not wish to wear pajamas, nor do I wish to look like a cow or Chewbacca. We would quickly put an end to most of the toys. The Avocado Toast would be toast. And the corn cob would quickly be kernel-less. This is coming from someone who actually ate a REAL corn cob and lived to tell the tale. After a veterinary visit.

There also seems to be a huge assortment of beds. When one is allowed to sleep on a human bed – like myself, why get a “pet bed.” The Imp still prefers to sleep UNDER his pet bed.

We already have neon light-up harnesses – so no need for the collars.

Now the one item that DID catch my eye was the treat maker. That has potential for Santa’s requisition list.

Meanwhile, yesterday we all took a little walk to the lake- and Her Highness encouraged the FG to go for his first swim of the season. That lad is….something else. But just what he is, I don’t know. She showed him a stick and threw it into the water. He jumped in – and although the stick was right in front of him, he couldn’t find it. She reeled him back in, as he was on a line. Meanwhile, the Imp was going MAD. He has never seen the FG swim- and he didn’t know what to do. He wanted to go in. He didn’t want to go in. He ran along the shoreline watching. He put a foot in. He jumped back. Her Highness threw another stick for the FG – which he watched, and yet again could not find. I believe he was looking for the bumper she usually throws in. He could not grasp the stick concept – despite the fact that he is known to carry sticks he finds on the trail. Her Highness reeled him back in. This time she held him- shook the stick in front of him, tossed it making sure he saw it and let him go. And go he did – pulling her face first into the water and onto her knees. Thankfully, she landed in a rather precarious pose with her derrière out of the water. The pose was lucky because her phone was in her back pocket. She tossed it onto the shore and got herself up – her rubber boots full of water. I just watched with mild delight. And the FG retrieved the stick. Finally. The Imp still could not be convinced to go in. Perhaps today. But you can definitely count yours truly out. No. Thank. You.

Time for our early morning constitutionals before it gets too warm. And then perhaps some Amazon shopping as I do believe they carry dog treats. And food. Those are categories where I can likely find some appropriate purchases. And perhaps some new floaty fetch toys for the FG….

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

Hey blogaroos. Squirmy here on another super Sunday. I’m here to tell you about some new acquaintances that I made yesterday. Here’s a clue: they were wooly.

So on Thursday night, the Warden was scrolling Wastebook and she happened to see that there was someone offering a Herding Instinct test. Now this was not an “official” test for a title – but rather an intro to woolies to see if a dog would have interest in herding them. When The Boss was little he was introduced to woolies and he showed some interest. Interestingly though, years later when he went to an Instinct Test, he sat in the middle of the ring like a stuffed dog. Same was true with Viktor. Another inanimate mop in the middle of a sheep pen.

The Coyote, though showed definite interest in woolies and he passed an Instinct Test with flying colors. He LOVED it. So the Warden decided it was my turn…

We drove about an hour away to a lovely hobby farm – where they own around a dozen woolies. Five woolies were put in a round pen – and dogs were introduced to them using a parachute cord (instead of a leash) so we could be held by our owners. The Warden said that we might have been more successful had we actually parachuted in. I’m not so sure…

Let me tell you what I learned:

1. Anyplace where sheep and dogs are gathered there are enough pervasive aromas to make a dog’s brain explode.

2. Sheep leave a trail of sumptuous morsels – but dogs are not encouraged to sample them. Try as we might.

3. Paracord is strong and super light – but it can easily be dropped or ripped out of a human’s hands. Especially if you are owned by a clutzy human.

4. Some dogs have super duper natural instinct – like a 10 week old Sheltie I watched. Even a Lab can have interest in sheep – and a Rottie who took the test before we got there, apparently was also amazing. Some of us…well the instinct is not “as apparent.”

So after watching numerous other dogs – many successful, and some not so much – it was my turn. I was attached to the paracord and in we went. I immediately began to scan for morsels. But after the Warden said “leave it” I looked around to see what else there was to do. Sheep. I took a look, and after them I went. So quickly that the Warden could not hold onto me with the paracord. One of the examiners took the cord and shouted “he’s strong!” Yup – and I had a new game. For about 30 seconds, the Warden was thrilled . Finally a PON who was interested in sheep. I was going around the ring and she was shouting “awesome – good boy- easy” – probably so many times that the examiner – who was likely protecting her own hearing – said the Warden could be a bit quieter. Right about then the Warden shouted for someone to get a camera. Unfortunately, my moments of brilliance were never captured because just as I got really close to the sheep – from what seemed like out of nowhere, a flag was dropped in front of my face. In race car driving they drop the flag to make you go. In sheep herding, they drop a flag to make you stop. And stop I did. Permanently. Yup. I’m a sensitive guy who doesn’t bounce back well from being told no. Surprise. So with that dropped flag, I quit. I mean who needs to be told no. OK – OK I guess I DO need to get over it- but I didn’t. And even after a break, when I went back in later, I had no interest in playing the game. I was being a drama king. Just like The Boss.

We noted on the test form that the examiners didn’t actually circle pass or fail. I think it was their very nice way of saying fail. While I did initially show interest – so much so that the Warden couldn’t hold onto me – my rebound skills after being corrected need some adjustment. What can I say – I’m a sensitive guy?

Apparently some dogs need several introductions to sheep to understand the objective. I think I need more introductions to flags. And being told no. Is it any wonder our household is chaos? Anyway, we tried! And it was super to have the opportunity!

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

Howdy do blogaroos! It’s July 1 – and it’s Canada Day! And even if you don’t live in Canada, you are welcome to celebrate along with us. Which means extra biscuits! You dogs reading this can thank me later. Any reason for extra treats is a good thing.

So I started looking at the topic of Canada Day – and Viktor did a brilliant blog about Canadian dogs a few years ago so we are stealing some of his info!

So do you know the six breeds of dog that originated in Canada? First off, we have a northern dog that was bred for sledding. Not riding in a sled. Pulling a sled. They are actually called by two names – the Canadian Eskimo Dog (the original name) and the more recent, proper name – the Canadian Inuit Dog. Here is information about the history of the breed – some of it not too pleasant. But very interesting just the same.

https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/canadian-inuit-dog

Our next Canadian breed is the web-footed, water-loving affectionate gentle giant- the Newfoundland.  Here’s a good description of these big guys: 

Next we have what is probably the most popular dog on the planet.  The all around happy-go-lucky Labrador Retriever.  They really don’t need a video – everybody knows about Labs – but just in case you have been living on a dog free planet – here they are:

Next we have a breed that comes from our very own province – the Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever.  Every second household here has one. OK.  That’s not true. But they DID originate here. Check them out:

So there you have our Canadian breeds. But wait – I said there were six breeds that originated in Canada. And there were – the Salish Wool Dog and the Tahltan Bear Dog being the last two. . Unfortunately, both are believed to be extinct. This is a very interesting video about both breeds that we just found since Viktor wrote his info:

https://youtu.be/V9Uvv4e6iYU

Now you have your Canadian dog history. You’re all set. So you can go grab a bag of ketchup potato chips or some poutine or a butter tart or a Nanaimo bar and have a Molson Canadian or a Caesar – and wrap yourself in your Hudson Bay blanket – and celebrate a little bit of Canada today! Have a good one, eh?!

Peace and paws up. Stay safe.