My Dog Is From Outer Space!!!

Yes, my dog is wearing a cone. He feels humiliated, shamed, less than canine. The tragedy of it all! It started a few days ago when I took Teddy to the groomer. He’s an older pup – 13 1/2 years old – so he has a few lumps and bumps and assorted nuggets as older dogs tend to have. I highlighted these for the groomer (literally, in bright blue) so that she could avoid them when she shaved him, but alas – I think she nicked the cantankerous growth that has existed like a second head on Teddy’s ear. Last night it was all pussed up and a complete mess – yuck! So, today I took him to the vet (he loved it, oh yes, loved the muzzle they put on him – what fun!) who said that the angry nugget should be removed – in surgery – tomorrow! Boo hoo! So, like a car going in for a tune-up, Teddy will be going in for surgery to get the growth removed and his teeth cleaned (let us not forget the deworming medication for his tapeworm infestation, too). All for a pretty penny, which I will be charging, of course. The good thing is that I get to make fun of him for having to wear a cone for the next two weeks. The cats are kind of scared of it, and Teddy is having a hard time not banging in to things when he’s wearing it. Anyway, here are some pictures for you to enjoy!



Ho ho ho (hey – are you talking about me???)

‘Twas a quiet Christmas this year: the warm glow of a muted TV, the happy hymns of James Brown’s Funky Christmas playing softly in the background, the smell of apple cider and cinnamon air freshener wafting through the air…and oh yeah…our mayhem-otic zoo of animals trying to destroy each and every present as we tried to unwrap them!!! Chaos reined in our living room, the cats shredding anything with ribbon on it, spacing out on catnip, the dogs trying to see if each package had a squeaky in it. Teddy Bear whining for more dog treats, Michael squawking to get out of the cage, and Leo…lurking in the back room just daring anyone to disturb him while he plotted…plotted for destruction.

Actually though, it was good – Mom and I got lots of great gifts; I think my favorite was an Indo Board that kind of simulates surfing or skateboarding – you have to balance on this roller thing and try not to kill yourself or damage the walls in the house when you fall off and the board goes careening out from under you. I’ll be posting pictures of me with broken limbs shortly…But I also got some PJ’s (thanks for supporting my lounging habit, all), and a watch jewelry box (woohoo! A nice organized home for my Swatch collection!), and various other fun things. After opening all the presents, Mom and I went up to Uncle Danbo’s house where he had bought and prepared a fabulous feast for us – turkey, green beans, cranberry sauce, candied yams, and cornbread. Yum! It was in fact the easiest holiday ever – no cooking, no cleaning up. Merry Christmas to us!

Anyway, we went to see “Memoirs of a Geisha” on Christmas Eve – excellent flick, you should go see it. It’s a little long and the book was better, but still outstanding if you like that sorta thing. And just so you can get a picture of how my weekend went, here’s a photo montage of Zoe during her reign of terror as we opened presents (yes, her eyes naturally have an evil glow about them that the camera captures quite nicely; this, my friends, is the horror I live with daily):

Mom’s in the doghouse because…

She’s got a new dog! Yesterday, Mom went to Petco to buy her cat some stuff and came home with a new dog (which indeed is not the “cat stuff” she originally intended to buy). His name used to be Poncho, but Mom is renaming him Bailey. He’s two years old, some sort of border collie mix (I think maybe with Australian sheep dog or something), and seems to be fairly well trained and obedient. A bit goofy, too.

Of course, Leo (Mom’s cat) can’t stand him, and Michael (Mom’s parrot) has already crafted a handful of plans resulting in Bailey’s demise (which mostly involve a lot of pecking and biting). I introduced Teddy Bear to Bailey in neutral territory – the grass island on Fairway Park – and things seemed to go pretty well – Teddy growled, they sniffed each others’ butts, and then ignored each other. However, when Mom brought Bailey into my place, Teddy went ballistic and ran out from under the bed, barking, and charged Bailey. Zoe, my cat, puffed out immensely. Ok, so we have some territory issues, but that’s ok. Things will work out well between the two of them, I think!

Mom seems to be very excited with her new companion, and I hope it works for her. Her house is now officially a menagerie of animals (all of whom hate each other), and if Teddy and I ever stay with her again it’s going to result in some real chaos. I guess we’ll cross that bridge when we have to!

In Escondido, cats do grow on trees

Last week I finally purchased a cat tree for Zoe and Jesse. It took them a little while to get used to it, but they now consider it to be the center of their universe. While Jesse (the declawed one, of course) has figured out the “scratching pole” aspect of the tower, Zoe still prefers to claw on cardboard scratchers. Both of them have figured out that they can jump up to the top perch, where they like to spend the greater portion of their day. Zoe prefers to nest in the tube part, while Jesse likes to sit on top (although the pictures I took today are exactly opposite of that). Aren’t they cute???

My Furry Family

Below are some pictures of my immediate family, namely my cats Zoe and Jesse, and my dog Teddy Bear. I love them tremendously, even if they are a major pain in my ass most days.

Zoe (left) and Jesse (right) are my two cats. Zoe’s main job is to wake me up in the middle of the night by licking some of my exposed skin until I’m in pain and bleeding. Jesse likes to yank my chain by peeing in the hallway, outside of his litterbox. Oh, those madcap kitties! Full of hijinks and shenanigans!

This is Teddy Bear. He usually looks like he’s been up to no good. In this case, he doesn’t want me to know that he’s just consumed all the cat food I’ve put out for Zoe and Jesse. Additionally, I’ve recently discovered that he likes to snack on cat-box “leftovers” (which may partially explain the bad breath). But I love him despite his whininess and voracious appetite.