I Would Do Anything for a Ball, but I Won't Do That

A few things first:

<> This is not that kind of blog.

<> There is nothing parodic about this post, other than the title, speaking of which...

<> Thanks, Meat Loaf.

<> There is a "permanent" x-pen in my family room; it has felt pads under the corners, to save the floor.

<> This is not a PSA about spaying and neutering your pets, but while I'm on the subject, please do.

<>  According to the book The Intelligence of Dogs by Stanley Coren, Cardigan Welsh Corgis are the 26th most intelligent dog breed.

* * *

'S'my ball. My. Ball. 

I might have mentioned before (about 106 times, here and there) that - aside from eating - Dewi's favorite activity is fetching, preferably his rope. No, let me rephrase that: Dewi is a rope addict and might need an intervention.

I know, I know - lots of dogs are crazy about fetching. You might be lucky enough to have one (or more) of your own (bless your hearts). It's just that I think Dewi might be "special." And by "special," well...

Have you ever seen a dog fetch like this??!

So, do you think Dewi might be "special"?

Hold on to that thought for a couple minutes.

(P.S. Did you get a load of Bertie, the cat? hehe)

Now, I'm no expert on dog IQ, but I've tried a few simple tests on both Dewi and Jon Farleigh. Here's a chart with some of the results.

Test	Passed
Finds way out from under a blanket	Yes
Answers to own name, and not to random words spoken in the same tone Ex. Responds to "Dewwwiii!" but not to "Vacuuuuum!" or Fryiiiing Paaan!" for example	Yes
Understands English	Yes
Can find a treat under a cup, in between the couch cushions, under the refrigerator, in the litter box...	Yes
When playing fetch with a tennis ball, and the ball accidentally lands in an empty (shoulder-high) laundry basket, knows to hop in the basket to retrieve the ball Example:	No
If placed inside an empty (shoulder-high) laundry basket with a tennis ball, and given the command to "bring me the ball," makes an attempt to get out of the basket (with or without ball) Example:	No

And...I don't know, y'all. Based on those results, I'm inclined to think:
they're both "special!" 
Wouldn't you agree? ;-)

Out of immense curiosity, for those who have (or have had) Corgis or any other dwarf breed of dog, would your dog(s) be able to pass that last laundry basket test?

Let me know in the poll below! Thanks!

Your Dog Might Be a Profuse Shedder if...

...your cats need to be taped off with a lint roller, lest they yak up dog hair hairballs.*

NOT a dog hair hairball, but it COULD be.
It's actually just a dry pile of Dewi's undercoat...
He sheds this much twice daily.
OK, not really. Thrice daily.
And that's NOT including his top coat.**

Speaking of hairy balls, yesterday, Jon Farleigh and Dewi were playing outside with a tennis ball (that was hairy, because they drooled on it and then shed all over it, which caused the hair to stick [get your minds out of the gutter]) and this*** went down...

Hi. I'm just making sure Dewi a hawk doesn't fly off with my ball.

Hey, Dewi, wanna play now?

Uh huh, I would love to play, brother...ever so badly!

OK...on three...

[thinking] Must get ready...

"...one, two...SIKE!!!!"

[insert maniacal laughter]

MOOOOOOOOOMMMM!

I heart my ball. And my mom person. 

Kids. ;-)

* I'm joking about taping off the cats. I rarely even tape off myself. Besides, they pass hair through their other ends, the "outcome" of which I don't inspect for dog DNA.  Ew.

** When he's blowing coat, which is most of the time. Oh, and JF sheds just as much. 

*** It really happened! I might have embellished slightly, however.

Have a smiley day!

P.S. Please do not spell "psych" incorrectly, like I did...up there, somewhere. ;-)

Ruminations of a Herding Dog Who Misses His BFF

As I mentioned at the end of Monday's post, because Jon Farleigh was at the vet/doggie spa getting his yearly whole-body inspection and summer make-over, Dewi and I spent most of the day alone together. It was enlightening. 

Almost right away I noticed something wasn't quite right with him. Not that he was depressed or wandering around the house looking for his missing canine companion, but that his attention span toward the usual "fun" activities was significantly reduced. 

In other words, I think he was bored (and possibly in "deep" doggie thought).
Note: Deep is a relative term.

BUT, because he is a herding breed, and a particularly high energy specimen at that, Dewi did not sulk or use pitiful body language (think Eeyore) to give his angst (over missing his brother) away. In fact...well...why don't you see for yourself how the day played out.

(I sense something is not right, but I can't put my paw on it.)
"I would very much like to fetch this here rope. Now."

5 minutes later...

(This is not fun without JF trying to steal the rope from me.)
"I'm tired of this game and will no longer fetch for you."

[Follows me into the office where he gets a brand new chewy.]

Dewi: "Munch. munch. munch."

5 minutes later...

(Chewies are no fun when JF isn't here to steal them from me.)
"Mom, I think it would be fun if we played fetch again. I'll just stand here and  look at you
until you throw the rope."

(I wonder where Jon Farleigh is?)
"I'm waiting."

(I wonder if Jon Farleigh will be back by the time I get over there?)
"I'm coming!"

(This day is taking forever. I wonder if Jon Farleigh is outside?)
"I'm tired of this game and would like to go outside."

[Follows me back into the office, sits on my feet and looks up at me with his "I need to go outside" expression.]

After 10 minutes of fetching outside...

Dewi: (I wonder if Jon Farleigh is inside?) "Okay, mom, I'm ready to go back in."

20 seconds after eating a snack in the kitchen...

(I wonder whether Jon Farleigh will hear me in here and come running?)
"Hi, mom, it's me. I'd like to play with the rope again. Now, please."

(I need to scream so Jon Farleigh will hear me.)
"I said NOW, mom! Throw it now!"

(Jon Farleigh always tugs; maybe if I tug, he'll show up.)
"PSYCH! You lose!"

20 seconds later...

(I don't want to be an only dog.)
"WAAAAGH!"

5 seconds later...

(I think I've been looking for him in all the wrong places.)
"Mom, I'll see you later, okay?"

[Eerie silence. Then me discovering Dewi at the bottom of the stairs, looking up.]

Tigger: "I miss that dang red dog."

***

I think having only one Cardigan Corgi would be too tiring :)

Anyone else have a dog that "ruminates" like Dewi (when he's not used to being the only dog)?

How My Itchy Ear Canals Prove that I Really Like You

It snowed at my house last night. That is a BIG deal for a few reasons:

• It's late winter in my part of Virginia and this is our first measurable snowfall. (Measurable = it at least skims the end of a ruler that's resting flush with the earth.)
• Youngest Child's faith in Old Man Winter is restored.
• I need closure on winter before I am emotionally ready for spring, and in my mind, winter is not complete without at least one snowfall. (I'm strange.)
• I can now participate in the upcoming spring season, without regret. 
• There was tremendous photo opportunity during Jon Farleigh and Dewi's snow romp this morning.

The beginnings of a snow romp. Picture quality: Meh.

So now that I've cleared that up for you, allow me to drill that last bullet point down a little deeper.

About a split second after I snapped that picture up there (despite the blinding glare from the snow), I saw the "light" (shining on my bad camera angle) and decided that (in order to get the best shots of the dogs - with which to impart cheer on my awesome readers) I'd have to get down on their level (in the snow) to take them. 

Same shot as above, different angle. Picture quality: Relatively, not bad.

Unfortunately, I was still wearing my paper-thin flannel pajama pants. 

But being the lazy determined person I am, I decided (not to risk losing the shots in order to go inside and put on some jeans, but) to just squat down as low as possible (without toppling over on my practically exposed a**). 

I'm pretty sure I made the right call.

And I didn't even topple over.

In fact, it wan't until about 129 shots later, when Jon Farleigh decided to lie down in a muddy puddle of slush and eat (most likely deer poop), that I noticed my butt was numb and I was decidedly light-headed (which is what happens when one squats down in snow with one's butt on a lower plane than one's knees, until the blood flow is completely cut off from one's brain).

Jon Farleigh (left): Having a deer popsicle
Me (behind the camera): Realizing my rear is a popsicle

So I decided it was time to take the dogs back inside the house.

And I wished (nearly as hard as one might wish for a gas station when one is driving on fumes) that my knees were 10 years younger and actually capable of hoisting my ice-chest-of-a-butt back into the upright position - so I could walk (and not crawl - with my not-waterproof camera - in my pajama pants - through the frozen slush - to my patio - where I could grab hold of a concrete wall and drag myself upright) back into my house.

The next few seconds (or minutes, I don't really know) are a blur, but somehow I managed to remember from my one physics class (or the hazardous weather section of online defensive driving school that I might have just completed) that the best way to dislodge a car (analogous to my butt, of course) from a snow bank is to "rock" it back and forth. So I planted one gloved hand in the snow for balance and proceeded to swing my frozen butt like a pendulum until its sheer momentum caused my rubbery legs to unfurl behind it. I was so elated to be standing again that I didn't even care that I'd half-mooned the driver of a passing service van.

And then I fetched the dogs and we went inside to get warm.

A little while later, as I sat down at the computer to upload all the photos I'd just taken, I became overly aware of the blood circulating in my previously frozen extremities. You know...like when a limb gets all tingly after it's fallen asleep?

And the insides of my ears were oddly itchy.

But aren't these pictures lovely? 

You know I like you, right?

:)

'Til tomorrow, friends!

The Dogs Must Be Crazy (no, really)

Ever see the original (not sequel) movie The Gods Must Be Crazy? You should. Especially the scene with the elephants. hee hee

That really has nothing to do with this post, though. I only mentioned it because it inspired my title. Because I really do think my dogs are crazy - at least when they do what they do with their leashes - in the video that I've got for you today.

But first, let me explain a couple things: I don't have a fenced yard, and although I live in a sparsely populated area, I never allow the dogs to run free out back unless they're supervised and their leashes are still attached. This will make perfect sense in the video.

I also disclaim the following:

• Jon Farleigh appears (in the video) to be eating something that he got from the grass. It most certainly might have dropped from a deer. He would have eaten it even if I had made a scene. 
• The dogs run across the street and I don't run after them. There was nothing coming...for miles. 
• Jon Farleigh is not hurting Dewi. They bite each other's butts for fun. :)
• If you are prone to motion sickness, use caution. My hand is not the steadiest. (Dramamine? Ginger ale, anyone?)
• It's 10 minutes long. I had too much fun watching the action to cut off the camera. Oopsie! (really, it's fun)

Click here to watch on YouTube.

Anyone else think I should hitch the boys up to a little red wagon?

Have a wonderful weekend!

P.S. Jon Farleigh "parts" next week!

Dewi and Tiffany Go Together Like Hooterville and Manhattan

But make no mistake - they DO go together!

Anyone remember the old TV comedy Green Acres?
(It's from the mid-60s, but still popular in reruns.)

Green Acres Theme, Short

Click arrow for 16 seconds of theme song.

Well, it was the first thing I thought of when I envisioned Dewi's debut at Tiffany & Co. (In case you're new to this blog, I took Jon Farleigh into the Tiffany at our local dog-friendly mall and promised that on my return trip to pick up some cleaned jewelry, I'd take Dewi along.) Naturally, as I cast the characters of the future blog post in my head, Dewi (my goofy, herding inferno) had to be Eddie Albert's character, Oliver (who longed for the land and fresh air of Hooterville), and Tiffany was going to be his high-maintenance, Manhattan shop-a-holic wife, Lisa, played by Eva Gabor.

It was going to be the perfect post! Dewi and Tiffany going at it to the lyrics from the Green Acres song. Move over "Biscuits at Tiffany's"!

But then, last Sunday afternoon, I took Dewi to Tiffany. And just as I was certain he'd plow through the counters (and human legs) like a bull in a china shop, the unimaginable happened.

Oooh, shiny things.

Look, mama! Pretty shiny things!

And, before I could say "in your dreams," Dewi had an entourage of adoring sales associates bearing biscuits. He was in doggie heaven, complete with a Tiffany-blue box and red satin ribbon.

I was too stunned to take a picture, but the whole scene went down just off camera, here.

Then, still on his cookie high, Dewi imagined himself in a diamond-studded leather collar...

Diamonds are a dog's best friend???
(Okay, so I made that last line up, but he WAS checking himself out in the mirror!)

Poor Jon Farleigh had to wait outside.

What am I, chopped liver?

Until he got to go in...

Who's chopped  liver now?

Good thing I can't afford to go back in; I think the free biscuits and lavished attention are going to their Corgi heads. So much for Green Acres. :)

*****

Here are a few more photos of the mall - just for fun!

Checking out the HUGE tree

I told you it was huge.

Dewi would rather drink straight from the spigot.

This little guy's doting person told us he's a Corgi x Pit Bull mix. Such a cutie!

I just noticed that dog in the background. Looks like he'd spotted us. ;)

And as we were leaving, we observed this meeting...

Pit Bull meets baby yellow Lab

Couldn't you just die?! :)

*****

Have gobs of fun this weekend!

Just for You: The Daily Rumpus, Daily!

Make sense? Okay, that's all then. Have a nice Monday!

Well, alright, I guess I could post a photo or two, or five...

Last week's Daily Rumpus contraband: (left to right) new glove, Youngest Child's flag
football medal, saltine cracker sleeve, 3-D glasses, electronic GigaPet, football slipper

So to prove to you that I do not write a fictional blog, and because it's just plain entertaining (to me), I've decided to show you all the stuff the dogs scored during their morning rumpus rituals last week. 

Can you see the crude "peace" sign they chewed into it?

Ironically, this "peaceful" glove (and it's mate, and two other slobbery pairs of gloves) were set aside to be donated to less fortunate children. I naively laid them on the counter just above the dogs' chewie drawer, beside a tennis ball. Silly me. :)
(By the way, the less fortunate will still get their gloves, and some hats, too. Courtesy of JF and Dewi.)

Jon Farleigh is willing the cat to toss him the slipper.

See? She's not buying it, though.

If Cardigan Corgis were just two inches taller, life as I know it would be dramatically altered.

And just for you - because I know you can't get enough of the boys being naughty - and I need to expand my social media horizons - starting tomorrow and each weekday, I'll be posting on Facebook and tweeting on Twitter the morning rumpus contraband of the day.  

I wonder what JF and Dewi will score tomorrow? 

Be sure to watch Facebook or Twitter to find out!