Mom and dad are clearing out their storage space today, so there are lots of boxes all around the apartment... which gives me lots of ideas. I always like to be helpful, so...
While they weren't looking I scored this fantastic pig mask - while I was expecting the taste of bacon, this furry pink thing didn't have much taste to it at all. So to punish it, I destroyed it.
So there.
Love,
Bogart
Looks like I've been tagged by my Airedale dreamgirl Sunshade... the theme for this tagging is "What makes a good doggie friend". So here are my 5 things... 1. ALWAYS be kind to cats. They have these sharp thingies on the ends of their paws. Did I mention that they hurt? Especially when one of them gets caught in a majestic Airedale beard which thus begins a run around the apartment with a cat "attached" and both of us yelping (insert Benny Hill music here and you have a better idea). Mom will laugh hysterically, so it's important that the doggie maintain some dignity and control over the situation. So just be nice to them... all the time... no exceptions...
2. Buy dinner before humping. This one I've been learning the hard way. I'm quite the enthusiastic humper, and never seem to see the need for any pleasantries beyond "gee your butt smells terrific!". I'm thinking that if I could be a little smoother, maybe play a little harder to get, that I'll get more positive reactions from the doggies that I'm trying to hump. And perhaps if I stop going for the boys all the time...
3. Showing up with treats works every time. Even though I am not a dog who is motivated by food (I know, it's odd...) I understand that basically all of my fellow dogs are. So whenever we go somewhere I try to make sure to remind mom to bring at least a few treats with us to share. Whether it's birthday cake to share with my Dale buddies or just a few Newman's Own peanut butter treats (a recent discovery), it's always polite when you're invited over to bring something.
4. Try to turn down the testosterone levels. If you can, that is. As I'm growing and becoming a man, I'm discovering that my hormones have a life of their own. I have no control over when the pump is turned on, and when it's turned off. This is where the humans come in handy, as does the short leash. When first meeting another (especially male and/or unneutered) dog, it's best to err on the side of caution - even if he goes for you first. Now we all know that Airedales don't start fights, we end 'em, but mom prefers (and I basically agree) that I be a lover, not a fighter.
5. Share your hard-earned knowledge with other doggies. It's a dogs world, and we can't let the humans run it. They'd completely ruin it without us! Encourage other cool doggies to start blogs, post pictures, share their exciting days with us all. Support 'em when they need our help, especially if they're rescue doggies that need it most. Remember... IT'S A DOGS WORLD.
Love,
Bogart
Today while I was out with mom, a woman was watching us play. Mom kept saying "good Bogie", and "such a handsome boy Bogie" (you know, just the usual stuff) and the woman came over. She asked if my name was Bogie and mom said yes... and the woman explained that she was from the Phillippines and that in her language the word Bogie means.... wait for it...Good looking.
Now I'm not sure if the spelling is the same, but the meaning sure is!
Love,
Bogart
Lovin' my way around the world on my other blog:
Here's a link to the Steve Irwin Memorial service... it's very very very touching, you won't be able to watch it without crying...
RIP Steve
Love,
Bogart
Dad took me again today to explore the great wilderness that is KC's backyard.
I am officially in heaven. This back yard thing is genius!!!
Space to run at top speed up and down little hills, no worries about running too far away and having mom frantically yell and wave her arms at me before putting me back on leash, and grass!!! Woo-hoo!
And from what I understand, a female Boxer will be arriving soon to live in this wonderland of a backyard so I shall have a playmate. I've been given orders "not to mount" as we're both intact, but it's gonna be really tough to be a good boy...
Love,
Bogart
See all of my back yard antics on my other blog:
So while mom was working, dad took me with him over to his friend KC's new house. KC and his wife just bought a house really close to where we live, and they're going to do a lot of rebuilding. So we needed to go over to check the place out.
I arrived and immediately began running my perimeter. You know, just checking to be sure that all is well before the humans enter. After a quick tour of all of the smells inside (they can't smell 'em but I sure can!) we went out into the back yard.
Now I know that many of you dogs already have back yards of your own and may not understand my excitement. But I live in an apartment, and don't have my very own area to patrol and destroy (whenever I do anything even mildly destructive in my home, the humans get a more than a bit peeved). I love looking at all of the photos of my friends running in their yards and wreaking havoc (both Kimi and Sunshade have great photos on their blogs of Airedales in action), and often wish that I could do the same. Today I got to live out that fantasy as the humans left me to patrol the yard while they went out to get lunch. Boy, was it FUN!!! I was chasing squirrels, barking at neighbor dogs, running up and down a hill, it was FANTASTIC!
I spent the entire day doing this (and yes, I could really get used to this mom) until I absolutely, positively exhausted myself. I can't think of another time when this has happened. No interest in food, treats, or mom. Cats were sniffing my moustache and it didn't even wake me. I just crashed out and even missed my late-night peepee walk. Mom thought it was hilarious to cover me up and put my pillow under my head but hey, it was actually a little chilly last night and my entire body was like a big wet noodle, so why not let mom pamper me a bit...
Zzzzzzzzzzzz.....
Love,
Bogart
More testosterone-fueled maleness on my other blog:
Exactly what do humans think they need these "job" things for? I mean, why do they have to leave for hours and hours, spending less quality time with the most important member of the family, the dog? I don't understand. Something about if I want the bones to keep coming, but I know they will anyway... My "job" as it were, mainly consists of looking adorable, and occasionally turning up the charm when required. That's kind of it. I don't have to buy my own food, drive anywhere, or pick up my own poop, and everything I want or need just magically appears. So I guess I have high job satisfaction.
Hence the reason for less posting lately - mom has been busier than usual. I'd snuggle up to her every day, waiting for some sort of adventure and accompanying cute photos, but no. She's a bit cranky. And of course the camera battery hasn't been charged... for the last few days she kept putting the battery into the charger and couldn't figure out why it wouldn't charge, getting angrier and angrier and wanting to throw the charger out the window... until she realized that she was putting the battery in the wrong way. Oops. Don't worry mom, I've had a few of those kind of incidents too.
So today she took me to the Grove for some Airedale admiration. Many tourists were taking photos of me, so mom didn't want to whip out her camera while she was trying to hold me in place (I am of course a big fan of the "action shot" otherwise known as "just try to catch a photo of me that's not a black-and-tan furry blur"). So no photos of that fun.
But we did slip in to the Three Dog Bakery for a few treats. The man who made my birthday cake was there, mom pointed him out to me, so I ran over and gave him a big sloppy kiss. It was really good cake, after all...
For some reason I really don't like the "pup cakes" until they're soft and room temperature. When we first get them at the Three Dog Bakery I register my displeasure by not only refusing to eat them but in trying to run away from the bag. I do this every time and mom still never learns, and tries to give me one. So we do our little dance and she suddenly remembers. Once we got into the car I felt that the cakes were at a good temperature for snacking, so I grabbed the bag myself (mom was driving after all, and I thought I'd help out) and tore it apart to get to my treats. Mom really couldn't stop me or take too many photos (again, she was driving) but I put up a few - you dogs will understand.
Love,
Bogart
Workin' for a Livin' on my other blog:
No, not the Three Stooges, it's the Three Airedales! And this is a serious story, not a funny one.
Yes, again it’s been wildly hot here in the desert of Los Angeles. Today was a relatively cool 85ish, so I’ve finally risen from my place in front of the fan to dictate a bit.
Mom and I went walking this morning (as we do each and every morning, I insist upon it whether I have done my early morning poop or not) around the Echo Park lake. A bit unusual for us as recently mom has been getting up a little earlier than usual so we could take the longer walk through the park up by the horses (before it gets too sunny, of course). Today there were lots of people out, I guess they were pretty happy too to see that it was going to be *only* 85 degrees today.
And then I saw it. From afar, I noticed one particular duck. I don’t know why he (she?) caught my eye, but once our eyes met I was transfixed. I MUST get that duck. I lunged forward, straining on my leather leash, in the direction of my breakfast, uh I mean new friend.
The way I saw it, I performed flawlessly, as many generations of fine Airedale Terriers have throughout history. Bred to instinctively be both water and fowl dogs, I bravely trudged forward toward my feathered prey. I must catch this and kill this, I thought, and triumphantly run back to mom with the beast limply hanging from my mighty jaws. Yes, yes, this is what I will do!
Unfortunately for my ego, mom had her camera with her this morning.
Love,
Bogart
So sad to hear that Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter, passed away. What a freakish accident, so sad, my best doggie wishes go out to his wife, children, and all the folks at the Australia Zoo.Love,
Bogart
Wow, that was really exciting! This morning I was watching a tennis match on television with mom... it was Andre Agassi vs. Becker and it was a real nail-biter! I was mostly interested in those tennis balls flying around, who knew that people did such weird things with them? Don't you know that you can just throw them and run after them and much hilarity ensues?
Anyway it was really sad when Andre lost because it was his very last game as a tennis player. Mom really likes him so she was sad too, heck even I teared up a little bit when he thanked all of his fans at the end.
Today mom and I will be throwing around a tennis ball in Andre's honor in the park later... when it's not so hot. We love you Andre!!!!!!
Love,
Bogart
Yep, it's a dead mouse. Or a rat. Or something with what was once a twitchy long tail and whiskers. Mom let me take a good sniff, wondering what I would do with it once I had a moment alone. Honestly it smelled pretty darn bad baking in the hot morning sun like that and I certainly didn't want to put something that disgusting in my mouth. So on we went.
Then we had to return library books. Who knew that there was a place that you could go to and they would just give you books? You know, those paper-y things that come apart really really easily with one good chew? Somehow mom hid them from me until we were in the car so I didn't get a chance to "check out" the books this time around, but I was happy to help.
We drove into downtown LA and pulled over at the library's drop box. I handed mom the books, she stuffed them into the box (they dropped kind of hard on the bottom and mom made a kind of funny expression) then it was back to my co-pilot duties as we sped away.
Next it was on to the post office to mail some packages. I absolutely insisted on coming inside with mom and she couldn't persuade me or point out any signs that said that dogs weren't allowed inside. So she shrugged her shoulders, snapped on my leash, and inside we went. I wanted to help her with carrying the packages, but she insisted on carrying them herself. So much for chivalry. Of course the other patrons were oooh-ing and aaah-ing over me. On mom's command I layed down (of course that was mainly to humor mom) and pretended to be the best behaved dog in the universe. It was just a quick wait in line and hey, a PSA for dogs everywhere -- they didn't kick us out or even complain that there was a "dog" in the post office, so everyone should try it. At least for a few minutes of free air conditioning...
