Looking Slick-er

This raincoat is really growing on me. I think I look quite dashing in it. And it does keep the fuzz dry.

Except for the butt area. Can we talk about this for a minute? These two little elastic straps that go under my feet, around my haunches, and that accentuate my butt-age. They are a little too thong-like for my taste. And yes, I was a bit worried that they might somehow inhibit my ability to make those perfect poops that I've been so good at lately. But basically they just annoy me. Yes, yes, I know that they keep my rain slicker from thrashing around and ultimately keep my butt dry. But really - should an Airedale be wearing a thong?

At least everyone can see me now. The bright red slicker and that fine reflective stripe.

I bring that up because last night mama and I were almost hit by a car here in the Pearl District. It seems that during the Christmas season, and especially when it's raining, humans forget how to drive. They forget a lot of things - civility, kindness, general humanity - but I've really noticed that the driving goes right down the tube. We were walking across the street and a man in a big car was making a right turn straight into us. Usually once humans realize that they're about to hit us, they slam on the brakes but this human just kept going. He stopped literally inches away from mama which really got me angry. I was barking at him like crazy, and mama was yelling some of those naughty words that she uses on such occasions. We were really shaken up, that car was too close for comfort. Note to all humans, especially during all of the holiday hub-bub and weather, be really careful out there!

I mean, I can take care of my mama but I'm not there to be able to provide the same Dale Security Services to all of you. I can only save the world one stick at a time.

One. Stick. At. A. Time.

Love,

Bogart

Spiffy New Raincoat

The weather continues to inspire mama to new heights of sartorial goodness... for me.

Check out my spiffy new raincoat. Yes I know, more clothes for dogs. I'm not usually a fan. But it's awfully darned wet out there.

Ok mama I'm done posing - LETS GO OUT IN THE RAIN FOR A NICE LOOOONG WALKIE!!!!

Hehehe

Love,

Bogart

Goose Removal Officer

Geese. A whole flock of them. Just sitting there, waiting. Taking in a slightly wet day, cooling their feet on the grass. You know what happens next...

Oh yeah, Bogart Handsome Devil's Goose Removal Officer, at your service!

I'm feelin' GOOD after that quick run. And satisfied after dispersing that entire flock of geese. And as much as I love to roll in goose poop, mama pulled me along.

That's ok, it's time for some fancy stickwork anyway... Note the advanced TRIPLE stick carry.

Since mama has to wash my sweatshirt today anyway (well, now she does) I thought I'd lay down on the wet dirt and grass and enjoy a little stick chomp. I mean, I carried these sticks all the way from the Hawthorne Bridge to the Steel Bridge...

Yes that's, right it's ME... no autographs please!

I need some time to savor the complex stylings of these sticks.

You know, it's just like chomping on a stogie. A particularly woodsy-type of stogie. And of course, looking cool while doing it.

CHOMP CHOMP CHOMP

Love,

Bogart

Sweating it out

I am now the proud owner of my very own black human sweatshirt.

After wearing mama's for a few days, she broke down and bought me one of my own. She cut off the sleeves a bit to accommodate my paws, and in the next day or so she told me that she will taper the belly a bit so that it fits me even better.

I like it because it's comfy, it's warm, and it's the same color as my saddle. So everyone who sees me first sees my handsome Dale-ness, and then notices that I'm wearing a sweatshirt.

The fact that it's a bit loose allows me to roam free, and to sniff all that I need to sniff.

And my harness keeps it from sliding back too far where I might pee on it. Hasn't happened yet!

See? Running isn't a problem in my snazzy new sweatshirt.

Now you see it... now you *barely* see it. Works for me.

Love,

Bogart

Super Snuggler

So... I have mentioned that it's COLD here in Portland. It's really, really, really cold. Both mama and I are feeling it. How to get by? EXTRA SNUGGLE TIME

Go ahead, brush your teeth, do whatever you have to do. I can wait.

Hey, whatcha doin' in there? The bed is nice and warm and you're missing some prime SNUGGLE TIME!

You're all the way on the other side of our apartment... in the cold, all by yourself. And I am HERE in all of my fuzzy warm-ness.

Ok, then if you're not going to snuggle with me then I suppose that one of the kitties might want to. Oh, Kafka...

YOU KNOW THAT YOU CANNOT RESIST ME AND ALL OF MY FUZZY WARMTH.

And truly, who would want to? Now get over here mama, SOMEONE has to keep you warm - LETS SNUGGLE!!!

Love,

Bogart

The Feline Purrsuasion

As you know, I share my abode with several felines. This is Sekhmet.

I think she enjoys my company the most - well, at least I don't see her claws that often. Sekhmet is 13 years old, and is the only cat my mama has that came with her from NYC to the west coast. Our "elder stateswoman" as mama says, or "Queen of Sheba" as Sekhmet thinks.

I am really intrigued with her. She has a fantastic talking AND singing voice. Mama says it is because she is part Siamese. She's quite the talker.

She's also a drooler. When mama pets her and she's purring really, really hard, she starts to drool. It's pretty hilarious.

As you know, cats are pretty clean animals and Sekhmet is no exception. Plus she has me around to help out.

I think she's pretty awesome. A mighty purr in a tiny body. Such a pretty girl. One of these days I'll get her to snuggle with me...

Love,

Bogart

Arctic Blast

Brrrrrr! It's COLD here in Portland!!! We're having what the television called an "arctic blast" and I can certainly attest to it's blast-i-ness. The wind ruffles my fuzz and whips me right up the butt. Not pleased. Today was especially cold, so mama felt like she had to protect my delicate Dale-ness... perhaps when your mama starts thinking, normal and sane things come out. When my mama starts thinking? This is the result...

That's right. I am a dog in a sweatshirt. A HUMAN sweatshirt.

To be even more specific, MAMA's sweatshirt. COVERED IN CATS.

Ok so the cats are along the bottom, on my belly, but YOU CAN SEE THEM FROM THE FRONT WHEN I WALK MAMA!!!

How can you make it up to me? Well, you can start by giving me some of those fine cones that I see you hiding...

I normally elicit many reactions when I walk down the street. Many smiles, lots of "cute dog"'s, and many butt pets. Basic airedmiration. But while wearing a sweatshirt? PEOPLE LOVE ME

But I must keep my focus on my cones. You know, in case someone tries to take them away while I'm distracted while being airedmired.

With a week or so full of "arctic blast-i-ness", I fear that the sweatshirt will be my newest friend. Don't tell mama, but since it's so cold, I ACTUALLY KIND OF LIKE IT.

Love,

Bogart

RIP Robin - You Dome-y Bastard

And that's not a slam. That's what my dad always used to say, with love.

One of my bestest buddies in the entire world went over the Bridge today - one of the Mareike-Dales, Robin, the big handsome boy with the awesome tail and the dome-y head.

I have so much to thank you for my fuzzy friend - not just for teaching me how to be a dog, but how to be a DALE.

I remember the first day we met, at the Silverlake dog park, me with my dad who just couldn't believe that there was another Airedale running towards us, much less 3 Airedales! I will never forget all of the times we spent together in your backyard, dad with beer in hand and treats in pocket. And I cannot thank you enough for covering my butt when, after my first birthday and eating way too much doggie cake, you rushed right in to cover up the fact that I puked it all out (ok, you all ate that but I knew you were just trying to cover up my rookie mistake).

The picture we all have in our heads is of Klaus waiting for Robin, beer in hand, and a vest full of treats.

So everyone can look up to the sky tonight - there will be a new Airedale-shaped star looking down on us all.

I know that my dad is waiting for you and will take good care of you now. I'm sure you'll recognize his voice, and greet him in your traditional way - by ripping apart his clothing to try to find where he has the treats hidden. Don't tell him I said so, but he always LOVED that even if he pretended otherwise.

Good night, sweet prince. You had an awesome-smelling butt, even though I was always more interested in Kermit's. And the biggest Aire Kisses in the world to my bestest friend, Mareike.

Love,

Bogart