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.

Stairway to heaven

Good ol' Adric used to be sort of like Tigger - you know, with a top half made out of rubber and a bottom half made out of springs. (And if you ask me, he is just as annoying as Tigger.)

But Adric is having trouble being springy these days. As a matter of fact he is under doctor's orders NOT to spring. The problem is Adric is a cat. And he is only happy when he is up on top of something. And in the winter, that means up on top of the hot water radiator.

Now in the summer when it is hot, all the cats mope around and throw themselves on the floor and spread out as thin as they can, looking aggrieved and moaning weakly because they are too warm. But in the winter all they want to do is toast themselves until they are piping hot! (Only fools try to figure cats out.)

Adric can't make it up to his favorite hot spot and so my Person decided to help him out by building him these great stairs and then covering them with comfy fleece. Now Adric can haul himself and his new bright green cast up to the cat roasting area and down again without doing himself another injury. The stairs are so sturdy I can walk on them too. Even though I have been told not to.

I wonder if my Person would build me some stairs for the places I have trouble getting to, like the cupboard where my food is, or the top of the refrigerator where my treats are? I'm not going to hold my breath - it seems to me that the things I want are frowned upon but whatever Adric wants, Adric gets.

Seeking warmth

There is this old saying that the January sun is a warming one, making the cold days of winter bearable. For in the far north, sunshine and extreme cold seem to be winter's favorite pairing. But it is hard to consider January sun a warming influence when it is below zero outside and the birds are puffed up like feather dusters and the snow sounds like styrofoam when you walk on it and the hairs on your chinny chin chin freeze into a frost beard while you root around on the ground for the interesting edibles that nature always provides for a keen-eyed and keen-nosed little red dog.

However, if you are in your Person's house and find a patch of January sun shining away, it is indeed warming. And here I will lie, warming myself and finding that I agree with that old saying so long as I am safely inside!

Poor kitty

My cat brother Adric has some nicknames - notably Badric. He earned this one by jumping on top of doors, shredding toilet paper rolls, turning on the hot water in the tub and then shutting himself in the bathroom creating a personal sauna and by assisting me when I scout for food (not a Person-approved activity) by tossing loaves of bread and other goodies to me from the counter top. He even threw me an entire bag of training treats from the top of the refrigerator. I ate them all and maybe that is why I am so well-trained.

Well, Adric has a new nickname and it is Sadric. He is the saddest sad sack of a cat ever. That isn't a holiday stocking he has donned. Poor Adric had to have surgery on his broken leg and now he's got this big old cast with a red wrapper to haul around and his very ample-looking thigh has been shaved. How embarrassing is that? And that other blob of shaved-ness is his even more ample belly.

That Adric sure doesn't have my trim sportsman's physique. But he doesn't go for daily runs by the river either. He sleeps and stretches and walks around like a princeling and sleeps some more. And that is on a busy day.

I feel badly for him even if he is getting the royal treatment - he has special beds all over the place and every time I try to nap on one my Person growls at me. And he gets extra food (look at that thigh, Person, and restrain yourself!), and he gets held whenever he wants and that is almost all the time. And he gets special medicine but I would rather have treats than that.

I am hoping for a nice romp outside today but there is a slick layer of ice on the ground. Even with four legs I am going to have to be careful out there. I may be a little red dog but I sure don't want to end up with a red leg like Adric!