Roxy split her leg open or something as equally retarded. I mean what is that animal thinking?
"Oh well I haven't seen that scary vet guy that I hate in about 2 months - TIME TO INVENT A REASON."
She was licking her leg the other day until I noticed and saw there was what looks like a hole in her skin. How she got a perfectly round hole in her skin is beyond me, but then again I don't understand a lot of what that dog does: - Chase loud cars - Lick Crazy Dog's face even though he looks like will explode in a homicidal rage if she licks him one. more. time. - Run through a screen door - Scoot a bed - Attack windshield wipers
And those are just a few. I had to deal with this dumb hole so I put neosporin on it and wrapped it in painter's tape, because why on earth would I have something practical like bandage wraps lying around. BTW, the tape worked like a charm, and didn't even pull hair!
Then yesterday I come home and Crazy Dog is rubbing his ear so deeply against his own foot that he is falling over in ecstasy. Seriously. It was obscene. I looked and well, don'tcha know! He has an ear infection! Apparently it comes in pairs.
I cleaned it out with some q-tips (I KNOW I am not supposed to do that but bite me) and when I was doing that CD fell against my leg and started kicking his leg and grunting. People. I felt so... used.
Moral? Don't get hurt and you wont have to wear that stupid cone of shame anymore Roxy.
If you didn't know already, Roxy HATES windshield wipers. She hates them like she hates leaves blowing across our front walk and the neighbor’s pitbull puppy that thwacked her across the face when she tried to make friends. And man, I have never seen her get so incensed over an initiation into friendship, although I can’t say I blame her, because really who wants to be friends with someone who whomps you over the head with their gigantic meaty paw? Not me.
The windshield wipers are this insane mystery. Why does she hate them so? What is it that makes her brain jelly boil over and spurt from her eyeballs when those things move across the windows? So before I describe my recent ride with her, check out this video of her:
Alright now you can see where I am coming from. In that video I let her have access to all parts of the car to prove a point: That she is CRAZY. But whenever the car is in motion, she is belted in to the seat belt restraint system. So please do not call PETA or whatever BS on me. I have an effing blog about my dogs. It’s obvious that I hate love them.
I take Roxy to camp every week (SEE? I <3 her. Sometimes.) and unfortunately last week it was raining while we drove home. Now. I figured, okay she’s usually really tired after camp so I will just go without wipers until she is asleep and then slowly turn them on. I am so smart. But then she wasn’t sleeping. Shit. I considered pulling over and sticking her in my trunk but well that would be hard to explain should I get pulled over and the police officer wants to look in my trunk and I say, oh sorry officer, but you can’t look in there. And then I end up in jail. Meanwhile Roxy suffocates in the trunk.
So I went without wipers extra long. So safe. Then she shifted herself to behind the driver’s seat where she couldn’t see. Aha! I leaned my head over to block the hole in the headrest and flipped the wipers quickly. No screeches. Success. I’ll beat that stupid dog yet. A few minutes later, one more wipe. Yes!
A few seconds later, another wipe – SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!
HOLY NUTBALLS! I almost drove off the freeway.
The sound that erupted form the back seat sounded like someone had jumped back there with her and was eviscerating her all over my leather seats. And since I was going 70mph on the 91 freeway, I did the only thing I could.
I screamed back at her: ROXY STOP! ROXY NO! BAD ROXY! NO BARK!
And it did nothing. I turned off the wipers. And then she was pacified to only a few whimpers. Well crap. I cant drive 70mph in rain without wipers. Safely I mean.
I was relegated to reaching one hand around the driver’s seat to cover her eyes every time I flipped the wipers on and then off. BUT I considered reaching one hand to roll down the windows and just chucking her to into oncoming traffic. It would have been easier.
Roxy is enjoying camp still and goes once a week to Camp Ilene in Corona where she plays all day and passes out when she gets home and gets her belly full of dinner. She always acts as if she is being tortured when I leave her there, pulling and dragging behind Ilene as she takes her into the yard, looking over her shoulder at me leaving her. Bless her little heart.
She does this EVERY week.
When I go pick her up she bolts out of the door like a bullet, skidding all the way down the driveway to the gate where I'm waiting for her, prancing and crying with excitement. I always ask Ilene, "Was she good?" and she always says, "oh my gosh, she's great. she's so easygoing."
And then I do a double take. "Wait you mean this dog? Doesn't she scrap and boss other dogs around? Doesn't she try to referee and control every other animal and human in her sight?" Ilene looks at me like I'm crazy and says "no, she's so sweet."
Apparently Roxy has her fooled. Not that she isn't sweet. Quite the contrary. But NOT bossy? Insane. She's the bossiest bossy dog I know. She tells everyone what to do. I guess she just enjoys herself at camp. She even graduated to the big dog yard recently and plays well with the bigger, rougher dogs. This surprises me as well, since this very same dog will screech like a banshee if a big dog runs up to her too excited at the dog beach. She then follows this up with a lip lift and snap for good measure: "Get OUT of my face you large animal!"
She will then bark from a safe distance of 30 feet away from the fence, screeching at the larger dog on the other side, who typically just looks at her quizzically, seemingly amused.
The dogs had an adventurous new year, including barking maniacally at noise blowers and horns that were used at midnight by me and my semi-buzzed friends (seriously have you ever had a Woowoo? It's a drink and it's potent. AND DELICIOUS).
Crazy Dog apparently believes the horn blowers will suck his brains out of his head through his eyeballs, because hwy else would he react SO VIOLENTLY to them. But with a little coaxing (woowoos anyone?) he will balance them on his nose. Who'da thunk?
Here is the aftermath. And then, in that last picture, even though we warned her the champagne was yummy - oh so yummy - she drank it anyway. Silly Roaring Corgi that she is.
This is the new addition to the family, well, my brother's family. Her name is Dottie. And she is super adorable. And only 10 months old. I mentioned her in this post.
That other wonky looking dog is Eva. In case you were confused.
Every year we head up to my parent's house to carve pumpkins for Halloween. It's a great idea because we don't have to have the mess at our house and it gives the pups a chance to play in my parent's yard, which is astronomically bigger than ours. I wonder what that's like to the dogs. It must seem like a national park to them, being that they're used to a five-by-five concrete slab with some half-dead potted plants.
For some background, my parent's have two GIGANTIC dogs. They are Russian WOlfhounds, named Cosmo and Quinn.
Whenever we are going to my parent's house we make it an event. For at least a week ahead my husband and I like to say things like, "Do you wanna see Cosmo?" and, "Quinn! Come here Quinn!" What this actually does is cause the dogs to go retarded. Their little fuzzy heads cock so far to one side that I am sure they have neck pains for days after. Their tails (or butts, in Roxy's tail-less case) go bananas wiggling around and the crying starts up and ends in a ridiculous display of jumping at our faces with kisses.
They are in affect saying, "PLEASE OMG PLEASE YES LET'S SEE COSMO AND QUINN OMG MY FAVORITE."
It's torture for them because alas, we do not go see them right away but we get to giggle at their desperate eyes. The only thing that lets them forget what we were just talking about is to trump it with, "Who wants a cookie?"
If having kids will allow me this much pleasure in torture, then sign me up.
Come one, come all! See Roxy fly through the air and accomplish her greatest feat – the ring of fire! Because I swear she would leap through a hoop of fire if there was a flying insect on the other side. Or a shiny object. ADD much? What? Exactly.
I’m sitting on my couch the other day with the sliding door to our carpet-square-sized “backyard” open, but I have the screen door pulled almost shut. Except enough room for a dog-sized creature to fit through. Our doggie door from our last place doesn’t fit, and because I am tired of buying new things to fit places we rent that just need to be replaced at the next location, I haven’t gone out and replaced the old doggie door. So we deal with the bugs that come through the open slider. Heck, we have live-in bug catchers anyway. If I shut Roxy in a room with a bunch of flies, she would entertain herself all day.
So I’m sitting on the couch while Roxy goes in and out the open area to the backyard, like she has done many many times before. I happen to look up just as she comes through again and realize omg, she just came through the screen door part. She just burst through the screen part, ripping it from the screen door frame, and she DIDN’T EVEN REALIZE IT. She just looked at me like what? And went back out the open part. Like in her mind she decided okay I need to go back inside and check on my humans and then just ran through the closest section? And it had a screen but oh well?
If Crazy Dog had tried to come through it and then it touched his skin he would have been like OMG THE SCREEN TOUCHED ME IT WILL KILL ME AND THEN I’LL DIE. When we first moved here he tried to run back inside, misjudged and slammed his face right into the glass door and then? He wouldn’t go outside for WEEKS. Because that scary glass door monster was lurking out there ready to eat his flesh while he watches in agony. I’m pretty sure he thinks this about most things, because when he glances at things like a fan, a trash can, or a potted plant, the fear that hits his eyes is almost sad. Almost. Mostly we laugh and point fingers at him.
I was looking at my stats today on this blog. You know, spying on fans and inflating my ego on how many hits I got in the last week. Which, by the way, was only 54. And half of those were probably me spell checking and formatting the post.
So I have this little tool that lets me see referring pages; pages that people come from and find my blog. There were some seemingly normal ones. And there there was this one:
...but that's not the only reason I am posting a video. But maybe a little. No really I wanted to share with you all the second video of Roxy roaring. It's pretty darn cute. Cuter, even, than a hermit crab.
Roxy loves agility. Well, she loves anything that isn't boring. So since agility includes all kinds of nutty things like tunnels and hoops to jump through, it qualifies. Don't get me wrong, by the third time she does the sequence of equipment, she's looking for a good dog butt to sniff to pass the time.
It's that boring.
But if I dance around her and generally act like an idiot, whatever it is she's doing is somehow so. much. more. fun. She's no doubt laughing at me, not with me.
