Tallest dog wins

There are no equals in the animal kingdom. Or so says Pico's vet.

People try equality all the time and they make a right mess of it. Not too many people are really willing to sacrifice their own higher positions to level the playing field for others.

In the dog realm we have a similar tough time being equals. And while being Equality Dog is almost impossible there are lots of ways to become Top Dog. Being the snarkiest can work. Being the toughest and most aggressive does as well but you sure are going to lose that congeniality contest and your Person will be giving you the evil eye every time you act like a bully toward another dog. Some dogs think barking the loudest is the best way. (I've tried it, and I just get yelled at.) Being able to run the fastest will get you out of trouble but it won't really get you ahead. So I have come up with the best way of all: I am going to be the tallest dog around.

It seems the Barking Hairdo of a Tasha is just not one of nature's able jumpers. But I am. So whenever that Tasha is around and starts competing with me, I'll get taller. And to do this all I need is some handy furniture.

Believe me, my Person has lots of furniture around to help me. Maybe she doesn't like lying on, sitting on and eating on the floor as much as I do. Or maybe she's trying to be taller than me! Maybe I need to find a new way to be Top Dog.

Good dog

No matter how good I try to be, I seem to get into hot water a lot. But right now I am not in hot water. I am in cold water. And the water is so cold that, like Bambi once observed, it is stiff!

This is me on my usual constitutional along the Mississippi River. Only this time I am in the river. Or on the river. Whichever. Up to my neck at any rate.

All I know is I am going to remind my Person of this the next time I accidentally get caught eating the homemade bread left out to cool, or knocking over the garbage, or eating Ollie's breakfast before he finishes or, well, being a dog. After all, who can be mad at a dog who can walk on water?

Détente

What do you get when you add fresh snow drifts and bright sun and two cabin-feverish dogs together? You get some fun! Tasha and I forgot our household rivalries and got down to some serious dog play in the backyard today.

It is at times like this when I think Tasha is pretty okay, if too hairy. And she probably thinks the same of me, except for the too hairy part. If only we could always be like this but sometimes I am too rough and sometimes Tasha is too sensitive. And sometimes I am too sensitive and Tasha is too territorial. Sometimes we both forget how much more fun it is to be friends than foes.

Maybe we both have been hanging out with humans too much!

Pathetique

Adric continues to hold the center of attention around here. He is getting around too well if you ask me and has resumed his former role of King of the Hill and Lord all He Surveys. From his new height he can survey quite a bit, even if all of him doesn't quite fit up there on his perch.

I am reminded almost continually of how lucky I am to be a dog. I am sturdy and fast, I eat things I find and I rumble with other dogs, but I am not prone to the kind of things that get cats in trouble. I do not jump into boxes and I do not aim myself at open dresser drawers and I do not fly from counters and I do not leap up into linen cabinets. I generally stay on the ground floor. Believe me, there are plenty of interesting possibilities in life without launching oneself UP.

My Person sure is lucky she has me. And only one Adric!

Tasha's Sense of Snow

One of the good things about Tasha is she is so furry. One of the bad things about Tasha is she is so furry. I, of course, figure I am just right in the fur department - a little thinner in the summer, a little thicker in the winter, never long enough to step on, tangle-free and with a built-in cleaning setting (called "run fast!").

Tasha causes fur piles to collect in the corners and on the couch and my Person is spending more time with the vacuum cleaner these days, but the good news is that Tasha can stay outside for ever so long. No matter which part of herself she sets down in the snow - feet, backside, chest, forehead even - she has a nice protective blanket of Tasha fur between herself and the cold, cold ground. Who knows? Maybe Tasha is solid fur!

All I know is that I get to snooze peacefully in my little bed (whenever Adric the Wounded isn't already ensconced there) knowing that the backyard is vigilantly protected from squirrels. This is like a little vacation from my job as guard dog, and I am spending it much like Tasha's own People are spending theirs - relaxing in a warm place.