Howdy blogaroos! Remember us? Holy moly- we have been very tardy in writing lately. Not to worry – everything is fine.
So what have we been up to? Well, the Christmas explosion has gone off at our house – and the place is FILLED with more Santas, elves, trees, Baby Jesuses, and ornaments than a Christmas market in Germany. We’ve watched the Warden lugging boxes around the house – usually while moaning and groaning. Fa la la la la. On Saturday, she hauled in the Christmas tree – purchased at a local tree stand. Why she didn’t just cut one down in the woods I’ll never know. Sure – the bought tree is pretty, but it’s so dense, it was hard to hang the ornaments. Lesson for next year.
She set it up in the former DFZ. That’s Dog Free Zone in case you don’t know. But the name has changed. It’s now called Frodo’s Lounge. Once she started allowing him to go in, there was no stopping him. He rattles the gate to go in- even when she’s not in there. And trying to tell him “no” is fruitless. He is completely milking his “senior dog status” . He refuses to take “no” for an answer. With everything. He just stares at her and persists at yelling out his demands. Whether it’s going into his Lounge, demanding a treat, or reminding her when it’s time for bed. Oh – and speaking of bed and sleeping- he has now entered into that phase of life where he sleeps SO soundly, you literally have to shake him to wake him up. The first time it happened, the Warden thought he was a goner – and then she realized he was snoring ever so quietly. When he sleeps, he SLEEPS. But back to the tree.
On Saturday night when it was placed in the stand, he walked in the room and was immediately annoyed. It was in the way of his “favorite snoring spot” and he didn’t know WHERE to settle. He wandered around the room, trying to find THE second best spot. He plopped down in a hmph.
Yesterday, after the Warden lugged the ornaments from downstairs, he was even more annoyed. Now he had to navigate around boxes. The nerve of her impeding his movements. So what did he do? He plopped down two feet in front of the tree and spread himself out like a bear rug in his Lounge. As a result, the Warden had to literally step over him to jam 4,000 ornaments on the tree. Half way through the ordeal, he made the task even more “fun” by letting out a series of aromatic “puffies” while asleep. Even the fragrance of the tree couldn’t mask that smell. The Warden held an ornament in one hand and the other hand grasped her nose. Meanwhile, he wasn’t the least bit aware of the challenges he was creating. Or maybe he was….
Today we got our first REAL snowfall. It is deep AND heavy. The kind of snow that causes branches to bend with the weight. And snowballs in PON paws. Fun for a few minutes. And that’s about it – as we walk inside weighing 10lbs more.
The Coyote was the first one out for his walk. Everything looked so pretty and Christmasy. And it was picture perfect – until the Warden looked up our rather long driveway. Branches were bending over in a lovely arch. Creating a nature made tunnel. Now most people would say “awwww.” But not the Warden. She said something I can’t print here. And why the less-than-happy exclamation. Well. Early in the fall, the Warden contacted Larry, our very nice plow guy to see if he would be plowing again this year. Yes indeed, he was. He did mention to the Warden that he had a brand new truck, and he was asking that the trees along the driveway be pruned back two feet. Sure! Easy peasy. While Sue and Keith were here, they helped with the branch removal. The Warden contacted Larry to say it had been done. A few weeks later, Larry came by to see the results. He wanted more cut back. So, the Warden went out one day and pruned back more. She figured a tractor trailor could drive through, so it should be fine.
Until this morning. She had pruned back, but not up. As she’s walking the Coyote, she’s reaching up and shaking branches- causing an avalanche of snow on the two of them. The Coyote thought the whole snow thing was GREAT fun. He doesn’t care about snowballs on his feet or in private areas. The snow doesn’t seem to stick to him as much as us PON snow magnets. He didn’t want to come in after his short walk.
Next it was the Boss’s turn. This time, the Warden armed herself with this long pruning thing- to grab and shake more branches. The Boss was NOT impressed with any of this. He trudged about 20 feet from the front door, barely squatted and pooped. He didn’t care to go further. So the Warden picked up his deposit and took him off leash. She knew he wasn’t going anywhere- and she proceeded to shake more branches. She worked her way up the driveway – while the Boss was lying in the snow supervising. She was all proud of her work until she stepped back and started second guessing if she had done enough. She brought the Boss in and when she took me out, she had clippers. I thought the snow was cool, but didn’t want to sit around supervising. I went back in the house after my walk while the clipping continued.
A half hour later, the Warden came back in, sweating and with fogged up glasses. The wonderful Christmas tree scent was now overpowered by the smell of wet dogs. We love winter.
What else is new? The Coyote has a vet appointment on Thursday- just to check his status. Overall, he is eating OK – although he has become a bit “spoiled” with “toppers” on his kibble. No toppers. No eat. He eats half his breakfast when he gets up. And the other half mid-morning. Supper is the same. He eats half – and then it’s anybody’s guess of he’ll eat the other half at bedtime. There’s been a LOT of begging going on some nights. But it’s not for lack of appetite. Because he has one new FAVORITE thing (besides bully sticks) that he will NEVER refuse. Even after he refuses his meal. Sweet potatoes. Yeah – those dehydrated, dried pieces of orange goodness. He absolutely LOVES them. We were going through so many bags of sweet potatoes that the Warden decided she had to make her own. A small bag (which in this house can be gone in three days) is like $15 – so she had to do something. She doesn’t own a dehydrator- so she just sliced them and baked them in the oven at 250 for like 3 hours. They are not EXACTLY like the ones you buy – the store bought ones seem more tough to chew. But, the Coyote doesn’t care. He LOVES when she takes the bin out of the refrigerator. They say they can be stored in the fridge for a few weeks. But they are usually gone in three days in this house. Two GIANT potatoes, when thinly sliced will fill three baking sheets. BUT they do shrink. A LOT. Still – they are a cheaper alternative to the store bought kind. See me for more recipe ideas. Who am I kidding? We PONs don’t need recipes. Just give us the raw ingredients- we’ll eat anything.
Speaking of which, when the Warden was FINALLY putting the ornament boxes away last night, she had a huge pile and dropped one. When she put the other boxes down, she returned for the dropped box. Yours truly was no where to be seen. Which she thought was odd, given my curiosity about ANYTHING. She picked up the box, which had some cotton batting that had been wrapped around the ornament. Just as she picked it up, I raced by with my jaws clenched tightly. But she could see tiny bits of white stuff on both sides of my mouth. Prying my jaw open to get the cotton batting was no easy task. “And that’s why you aren’t allowed in while I’m decorating,” she exclaimed . Who is she kidding. While she’s decorating? I’m not allowed in Frodo’s Lounge EVER. Probably because I do stuff like using the sofa as a trampoline. And I love to steal pillows.
Haven’t started my letter to Santa yet. I have more research to do first. In this household, it’s critical to read reviews on any dog toys. They basically have to say they are approved for play by pack of hyenas and an angry grizzly bear to withstand the wrath of us guys. Hey – maybe I could start doing reviews and they could be “Wojtek approved.” Mind you- the list would be small.
OK. Time to squeak to go out. Just because we can.
Have a good one. Peace and paws up. Stay safe, JBJ.
Viktorsviews. The Next Chapter. 