Say what you mean!

OK. I can be more open with you than I can my human mom. I mean, she cares for me and...well, she babies me a lot. Maybe too much. I owe her, though. She took me in when my previous owner was treating me badly. Anyway...I just have to vent.

My mom doesn't like for me to go out by myself because I am a wanderer. I can't help it! It's in my nature. I have to explore. When the squirrels start playing and the bird are chirping something goes wild inside me. My sense of obedience simply leaves!

Sorry, I got off topic.

Several days in a row my mom let me go outside to do my business alone. I did good the first few times. But one day, ONE...not two...just ONE, I ran with some of the guys and got really wet and muddy. I felt so free. I had the time of my life. That is, until I came home.

All I heard was nag, nag, nag about the dirt and mud. Think about it from my point of view. I am a dog. Dogs like to run. Dogs like dirt. If you let a dog outside alone, he is going to get dirty. Hello! Common sense, right? Yeah, I thought so, too!

Why can't my human mom just say what she means?

She says, "Do you need to go outside?"
She means, "You are not allowed to have any fun. No fun! No fun!"

She says: "Go play with your friends."
She means: "Don't run off with those other dogs."

I get really frustrated. I am a dog. I live in a house filled with humans and cats. What does she expect when I have the chance to run with the big dogs? And she wonders why I love going to the vet so much. Canine interaction, man! For real! I crave it. I have to have it. The vet doesn't fuss about my hygiene. He puts me in a cage near other dogs. A time or two there's been some pretty hot babes in there. Not that it matters now that I've been "fixed" but a dog can dream.

Anyway...it's been good to get this off my chest. If you talk to my mom, don't tell her I told you about this. She's sensitive when it comes to me. But who wouldn't be? I am adorable, or so I have been told.

Until next time, take it easy. Enjoy life. Take a roll on the floor. Scratch like there's no tomorrow!

~Doggebone

Doggebone dictionary: "politically correct"

How about a Doggebone definition for politically correct?

Politically correct (adj.): the term used to describe words or text adjusted for for those who cannot handle the truth.

In Doggebone's dictionary, at least for today, the abbreviation "adj" stands for adjusted not adjective!

Got a word you want Doggebone to define? Ask him. (No ugly words, please!)

Cat litter: Risky business

Yesterday was a learning experience. I admit that scrounging in the litter box is not ideal, but, hey, I am a dog, remember!

I did learn a valuable lesson or two or three or...

1. Dogs that play in the litter box do not get treats. 
2. Playing in the litter box will get you in deep trouble.
3. Running from your human mom only increases the level of trouble you are in.
4. Dogs that eat certain types of litter will become horribly sick.

Personally, I've been caught in the "box" many times over the past few months, but yesterday was different. How am I supposed to know when the litter brand is changed?

Obviously the traditional FreshStep brand is not compatible with a dog's digestive system. By mid afternoon I thought I was going to die. The harking was horrible. My human mom was frantic over my harking and frothing. I heard her verbally analyzing the situation. She said, "When he went out, he was on the leash with me...so I know he didn't get into anything that could hurt him." Hmmm....if she only knew.

But, she did figure it out.

Apparantly, all the hacking was my body's way of expeling the litter. In one of the dozens of cleanups, my mom saw the bits of litter.

We had the meeting by the "box" and she proceeded to explain the "no"..."ahck" and other sounds that mean I am not to touch something. Okay already, I get it! I am dying over here. Do you think I don't realize what the connection is?

Anyway...
My mom fixed me a place to sleep in the laundry room. She provided a bowl of fresh water and set up the child safety gate. She gave me a loving pat on the head, a scratch behind the ears, said "I love you, Doggebone" and diappeared around the corner.

The night was long. Harking took the place of my regular sleep. Shortly after 2am I found relief. I slept straight through the alarm, my human siblings rumbling around as they readied for school, and the sounds of my mom and her coffee pot. The harking was gone.

Whew! Lesson learned!

But my stomach didn't feel so great. I jumped to my feet and did the dancing thing my mom likes me to do. She knows that means I have to "go." Apparantly, there is more to taking care of a bad litter ingestion than harking. But I feel much better now.

I played with my feline siblings for a bit, passing the "box" every now and then. I am fighting the temptation. It is an ongoing battle. I think I might have to start a therapy group. Let me know if you want to enlist.

Rebuttal to another post

OK. My mom writes that Fall is relaxing, serene...you know, all those girly, good descriptions. BUT...I have to add...

In my world, which is strictly from a dog's point of view, Fall means bad hair days and being scared half silly from the buzzing of the alarm clock that sounds an hour earlier since my human siblings are back in school. Humans do not realize the changes that dog's have to go through in this "relaxing" season. We are faced with an onset of increased hair in preparation for Winter. Have you taken time to really look at a dog's hair during the onset and shedding seasons? Well, it ain't pretty, I assure you. Try living with that! Yeah, yeah. I know. Humans go through static hair days in Fall, but at least you have hair products to tame the wildness. Dogs have nothing but a natural mess. We have to wait it out.

Now, the alarm clock. It isn't fair, you know. Humans let us get used to the schedule of the Summer months and then BAM! This buzzing, blaring sound wakes us every morning all because human kids have to go to school. Sleeping is one of my jobs in life. I don't go to my mom's job and blare freaky sounds in her ear, so why is she interrupting the natural progression of sleep for me? It's not fair. It's not right. And, if the sound was not enough...I run and jump and bark (even cry sometimes) to let her know the alarm is sounding. Cut it off! Cut it off! What do I get in return? A grunt, a nudge for me to move, and more snoring. Why set that thing for 5am if you're just going to slap it every five minutes for an hour? Sometimes, humans make no sense!

I'll say more later. Mom is up and getting dressed. I think I'm going to take a nap.