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Sunday, December 25, 2011

The fat man cometh.

Quite frankly, I'm surprised.  I mean, who knew the Big Guy could actually squeeze himself down that narrow chimney?  It's rather a feat, really, given his girth and all.  I would have let him in the front door if only he'd knocked, but according to Pearl, that's not how it happens.  Seems kind of weird though.  This whole chimney thing.  I mean, we've got a driveway as big as an aircraft carrier.  It seems good old St. Nick could have just landed there and knocked on the door rather than maybe scratching the shingles and maybe taking out the power lines.  Just saying.

Pearl says that's just not how it's done around here.  Meh.  Needless to say, I was a little surprised when Abe and Elle woke up this morning and didn't bat an eye at all the snow the big guy left in the living room.

So, when Abe and Elle were doing some something (I don't know what they do when they leave.  I'm trapped in a crate.)  Pearl broke me out and I did a little net surfing about other ways of breaking and entering, I mean, Santa's arrival.


You'd be a little freaked out too if this guy woke you in the middle of the night and asked for a photo!


In Spain, apparently, Santa climbs in your window using a fire escape ladder.
Santa entering your window.
Uh... OK.

In Germany, one website said the following:
Children leave letters on their windowsills for Christkind, a winged figure dressed in white robes and a golden crown who distributes gifts. Sometimes the letters are decorated with glue and sprinkled with sugar to make them sparkle.
That's kind of cool.  It's a little less creepy than the Spanish version.
Finland, on the other hand, has its own take on Santa.  Apparently, Santa is Finnish.  Weird, because when I spoke to him the other day, he didn't have an accent.

Anyway, one website said:
The Finnish equivalent for Father Christmas, Santa Claus, St. Nicholas etc, is joulupukki, who has his origin in the pagan Nordic shaman tradition of people dressing up in animal disguises.  Joulupukki was once a symbol of fertility and more of a frightening figure back then than today. He was clad in thick fur-lined coat turned inside out, wearing a mask and a pair of horns on his head. The name joulupukki literally means "Christmas buck" (billy-goat).
OK.  Pearl is putting me back in my crate.  She thinks I might scare some of the younger pups.

Anyway... Merry Christmas!

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Happy Christmas Eve.

Here's to wishing you all a happy, safe, and owner-filled Christmas, whatever that is.  The Christmas, I mean.
If I pee on the presents, will Santa be mad?

Monday, December 19, 2011

Torturing puppies?

Nothing gets my big ears a burning than torturing puppies.* I KNOW! How can I think such a thing, you ask, but how else can you explain this?



I mean, what else would bring dozens of people to their knees weeping so earnestly. Imagine, if you will, the poor little defenseless puppy, all cute and cuddly, it probably has a cute wet nose even. Maybe she has a lazy eye, and, you know, if it weren't for the lame leg, would be the best dog ever. Kind of like this one:

Yes, I am this cute.

Or maybe this one:
Right back at'cha, buddy.

Or this one:

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
Why would you ever want to hurt something wishing you a relaxing weekend? It's criminal, I tell you. C-r-i-m-n-a-l. Why, I think I ought to send a mass email or something, dew claws a typing, to all my friends and rally the troops, or march, or walk around the block. Maybe even protest or something.

Pearl noted that I misspelled criminal above. Sorry. I mentioned I have dew claws. Plus, it was in all capitals, and you probably missed it, too. Right?

Well, I mean, if I weren't a dog, which I am of course, I would cynically think these people were being forced to weep so openly for some dude who wore elevator shoes. I don't know what elevator shoes are, but Pearl says they're something people in tall buildings wear. Why you need special shoes for a building, I don't know. Pearl and I wear our shoes all the time, and they're called paws, so they say. Abe and Elle wear shoes, too, but not "elevators." Abe calls them "poop shoes," whatever that means.

Anyway, regardless of why these people are weeping, I kind of feel bad for them. I mean, something really bad happened, and they're probably really worried about the future, or food, or maybe how cold it is. It looks cold where they are. I hope they have warm coats.

*No puppies were harmed in the writing of this blog post.

Friday, December 9, 2011

Some dude with a beard.

I'm not exactly sure why Elle thought it was a good idea that I sit next to this stranger.  I mean, yeah, the plump guy wasn't so bad.  Now, I'm no fashion guru.  That's Pearl.  She's the one who paws through newspaper ads for all the latest fashions, but something tells me that whatever this guy is wearing is a wee bit out of style.  I'm just saying.  I'm kinda certain red is not the new black, not that I can see color.  Nevertheless, something seemed to come over me when I saw him, all jolly and such as he was, and he "Ho, ho"ed a lot.

Then outta the blue, I grew some antlers and bells.  And, what the hell happened to my ears?  They don't look like that normally.

Well, Pearl said this guy is called "Santa."  I'm not sure what kind of name that is, but it doesn't seem to matter much.  He was nice, and he gave me treats and stuff.  Asked me if I've been a good boy or not, which was kind of rude given that we'd just met.  Of course I have, I said.  What kind of question is that?  OK, so there was that one time when I had an accident in the house, but I didn't know the basement was "out of bounds?"  Come on, I was new.  And, sure, there was that time I started eating the door trim.  Cut me some slack!  I'm not perfect despite what Abe tells people.

Pearl is warning me to be nice.  Sorry.  Something about all the stress of "Christmas" shopping has got my antlers in a bunch.  I don't know what this "Christmas" is, but if me shopping for presents makes Elle happy, I guess I can cope like everyone else.
Shopping gives me a headache.

It seems I've got a nose for bargain buys.
It turns out these gifts aren't for me.  Disappointment.  But, I heard Elle talking to Abe about how these gifts benefit my peeps at the Champaign County Humane Society.  Now I feel bad, like I was being selfish and everything.  I figure I might as well give back, right?  Not everyone is fortunate like me, getting a home and stuff.  The photo with me and the big red guy benefits Crisis Nursery and Catsnap.  I mean, who doesn't like kids, their mothers and cats?  It is this Christmas thing, after all.  It was organized by Pet Supplies "Plus" and Fetch Pet Care.

So, the house is changing too.  Suddenly there's a tree in the living room that no one noticed.  It kinda freaked me out.  You'd think someone would have seen that sprouting up through the carpet.  There are presents and stockings a little too close to the fireplace, too.  It seems kinda dangerous to me, hanging stocking by the fire.  A bit of a fire hazard?  But apparently it's "normal," Pearl says.  Abe mentioned something about Santa coming down the chimney, too.  How's that gonna work?  I mean, did you look at this guy?  Does he look able to fit down a chimney?  I didn't think so.

Oh yeah, white stuff fell from the sky last night.  Random.

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

RIP, "Dad."

Well, I'm bummed.  Word on the dognet.listserv came down that my brother, er dad, Semper, had a tough time of it a couple of nights ago, and he's "passed."  Some of you may remember Semper, er dad, from this post in September.  Now, I'm a bit confused, really, because Pearl said something about him "seeing the Pearly gates," the other day, and I thought she was talking about the backyard like she was being possessive or something.  You know, like, "take your filthy paws off the Pearly gate."  Well, then she got to talking about Carmen.

Apparently, another dog used to live in my house... our house, Pearl says.   Sure, I've heard rumblings every now and then from Abe and Elle.  Like, they'd say, "I miss Carmen."  Frankly, I thought they were talking about the opera.  Now, everybody has heard of that!  What dog hasn't?  Every time it comes on we start howling...

See, this is what happens when we hear this song...
In any case, I've been told there was a dog named Carmen who used to troll the backyard for goodies, even in her blind state.  Really, the stories I've heard Pearl relate are kinda hard to believe.  A dog found on the side of the road with puppies and heartworm.  She'd been shot in the leg, so she limped.  Then she went blind.  I mean, come on.  It's preposterous, right?  What dog could possibly have all that happen to them in 13 or so short years?  Anyway, I'm not entirely convinced Carmen lived here.

Wait a minute.  Pearl has rifled through Abe's computer while they were out, and she's pulled up this photo.  "See," she says.
Someone named Carmen
Well, I mean, yes, it appears this photo was taken from what looks like the living room.  And, I admit that I've seen that mean looking vacuum cleaner in the background one too many times.  I hate that damn thing.  But, if anything, this Carmen seems to be howling, too.  See... it's in the name.

I seem to have digressed.  Anyway, Pearl says that this Carmen passed away too, and it got me to thinking about my dad, and how even though I met him only once, I already miss him.  It was good knowing you Semper, er Dad.
Dad and me

Friday, December 2, 2011

Cocoa the Wiley.

Well... It turns out it's just me and Pearl.  I can't say I'm surprised.  Word on the Adopt-a-Parent listserv was that she was heading to Shin and Eve's, and low and behold, Shin and Eve got some dog named Wiley.  It's kind of weird because, seriously, Cocoa and Wiley sure look a hell of a lot alike.  Know what I'm saying?  Granted, I was swiping my dew claws through Abe's smartphone, and I wasn't able to sniff Cocoa like any proper greeting would entail.  And, since I don't have opposable thumbs I couldn't zoom in on the damn thing, I'll just have to assume that Wiley and Cocoa are one in the same.

Since Wiley is pretty, well, wiley, it's tough to get a decent photo of her.  Here's some, though.
Wiley
Wiley doesn't smell like Abe's smartphone.
Although the patterns on her fur are similar, Wiley is her own woman.  And she and Bailey seem to be getting along just fine!  I've got me some new girlfriends.  Boom chica mao mao!