Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Oh no!

Mom and I just found this article talking about which breed of dog is most aggressive. Guest the number one breed...go on, guess.


This makes me upset because I have two cousins who are doxie's! Sam, my Aunt Jessica's dog (who is 10 years old now) and Simon, Uncle Adam's doxie!

When mom read me the article I wasn't surprised by which breed took the second and third place in the aggression race. #2, Jack Russel Terriers. #3, Chihuahua

Our next door neighbors have two Labradors and two chihuahuas...and it seems that the smallest dog always makes the most noise at me when I'm outside.

When mom was six she was bit by a black labrador on her right arm. She's still got the scar from all the stitches, so growing up mom was scared of big dogs.
(Thank heavens I only top the scales at 30 pounds...)

What's most interesting about this article is that since big dogs have bigger mouths, their bites typically require medical attention. Whereas with a smaller dog, who have much smaller mouths, their bites are typically treated at home...which gives big dogs a bad reputation.

I don't have an aggressive bone in my body; I might wiggle a lot, lick a lot and jump a lot...I hope they don't come out with a study on the most wiggly dogs...I have a feeling puggles would take the top spot!

Thursday, November 19, 2009


Some days, I like to just sit in the sun (with my tennis ball next to me, of course!)

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Obviously, he didn't get the memo

See that white thing in the midst of all those trees? Its a cat. How did it get there? Well, I hope your sitting down because there is a story involved...

It was a typical Monday morning. Mom let me out back to do my "stuff-fa-fa" and she did whatever Mom's do when their kids aren't watching. I was minding my own business when Mom opened the back door and said, "JACK- GET THAT CAT!", I looked up, "hu? What cat? I don't smell a cat
!" and then. I. Saw. It.

We caught eyes and off we went. The cat, (I'll call him Moe) didn't know its way around my backyard because he ran right past three escape holes (homemade by the resident rabbits)

"Go get him Jack, GOOD BOY!" mom said from the deck, and boy did I get him alright. Moe ran the length of the yard (which is not small, just shy of 200 feet) and then, just as I was on him, he ran up the tree.

And I don't mean he ran up the tree like a lil' sissy either, I mean, he hauled ass up that tree (opps! pardon my language!) To make sure Moe wouldn't be joining me for more cross country lessons, I barked at him a few times, tried to jump up the tree a few times and then when mom called me, I ran back inside...drank a bunch of water an
d needed to run upstairs and tell dad what I just did. (He was very proud of me!)

Mom joined me upstairs when I tried to explain to dad (via butt wiggles) how I just chased a cat up the tree but mom did a better job using her words telli
ng dad my heroic tale. It wasn't long after that Mom's curiosity got the best of her and she ran back downstairs to see if the cat was still in the tree. Yup, just where we left him...second tree trunk from the left, 3/4 of the way up...

This is where the story ends for me, because I did my job. I made sure that Moe got the memo to stay outta my yard (and that he'd pass it on to all his other fluffy, feline friends!)

Now its Mom's turn to pick up the story telling...

So after I tell Eric all the details of how Jack chased Moe through the trees, around the burn barrel and up the tree, I realized something: if the cat went up the tree, the cat must come down from the tree.

That's when I realized something else: don't firemen typically assist abandoned felines in trees? I did a quick inventory of my outfit, pj's, slippers, mussed hair and robe. Sexy. This is when I did the unthinkable, I started to root for the cat. "Come on down fluffy...come on!"

After watching in dismay for five minutes, I'd walk away, catch up on real current events (thank you Matt Lauer) and return to the kitchen window like a moth to flame. Moe didn't budge.

My fifth trip back to the window there was activity. Yeah, Moe!

He made his way down the tree, but not head first, no no, Moe is smarter than that. He went butt-first down the tree, stopping at the occasional branch to rest his hammies.

When he did make it to the grass again, I did a little happy dance (not just because I wasn't going to have to put a call into the fire department...)

It seemed as though this was Moe's first time on the merry-go-round because he wasn't all that coordinated. After several failed attempts at jumping the fence, he finally clawed his way up to the tippy top of the fence.
Moe stayed on the top of the fence for quite some time...then finally, after several half-misses (and a few balance issues), he jumped off and into the early morning dew.

It seems as though Moe passed the memo along because we haven't had any other fluffy visitors...

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Winston, why are you wearing a lamp shade?

Yup, that's my pal Winston wearing a lamp shade on his head. It seems he was allergic to something in our backyard about a month ago and he chewed his tail raw. Ouch! To help stop him from munchin' on his butt, Grammy and Grampy put this lamp shade on his head!

I had to investigate for myself: Yup,'re definitely wearing a lamp shade!There was one time I had to wear a lamp shade (mine was blue though) because I had fleas growing on me! Ewwwww.

Winston wearing a lamp shade means a few things:
1- he runs into objects, like doors, tables and the sofa
2- he can't eat his cookies very well because once he drops it, its gone. (Good thing he's got a friend like me who cleans up after him!)
3- he can't really sniff the ground, so the lamp shade gets caught on the carpet, rugs and hardwood floor
4- he looks really sad all the time

It was fun having my buddy around, even if it was just for one night!

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Gosh, they look familiar!

A long time ago (like, when I became a member of the family) Mom found a website devoted to puggles! Of course, I have a profile, visit it here.

Yup, mom and dad take a lot of pictures of me- don't get me wrong, I'm not camera shy or anything...quite the opposite. As soon as the camera comes out, I turn the cute level to MAX!

They have puggle questions. This week, 'does you puggle like to take a bath?'. Mom said, 'no'...but see here's the thing. Taking a bath isn't my favorite thing to do; but I really like the water...just not getting dry. I'm a wiggle-butt...and having to 'sit' and 'stay' while mom blow dries me...uuuuuug, its tiresome!

Be sure to check out all the other cute puggles- gosh, we look really familiar!

Dog Age read my mind

Just checked my email (with mom's help, of course) and there was our Dog Age tip of the week: What to do for dogs with allergies!

I have allergies!

For those other animals out there that have them some allergies, bark at your boy and tell me what your allergic to! (Also what your mom or dad have done to help with your allergies...)

(Notice on the tip, it says what breeds are more prone to allergies...pug is listed- for those of you who live in a cave without internet access, I'm 1/2 pug! Its all making so much sense now!)

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

Unlikely Friends...

Just got done checking the news on when mom and I came across this fun article talking about unlikely pairings of animals.

Enjoy the slideshow...its really cute!

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

I love sticks

To help mom while she's painting the trim in the house, I am on stand-by duty all day. This means while she's sitting on the floor putting masking tape on the carpet, I lay next to her. When she's moving around, going up and down and up and down the stairs to get things from the kitchen, I'm right along side her. Yes, I'm mom's favorite little helper.

There is one toy she's been using lately that I'd like to play with, its a long wooden stick. Now, anyone who knows me knows that I love, love, LOVE sticks. So, when I saw one sitting next to mom, I had to investigate.

I sniffed it, smelled good, so I bent down to put it in my mouth, "No! That's not a toy, Jack. That's a paint stirrer. Leave it!"

Himph, mission blown. But I don't give up that easy, oh no, not me.

The next day while mom wasn't looking, I grabbed the stick and sat behind her happily munching away...until she saw me. "NO! Jack, drop it!" Awww, man!