Shade's Latest Antics.......

Shade's latest "mistake" cost us $164. I took him for a car ride the other day - to pick up Hayley - because you know how much dogs enjoy car rides, right? Well, Shade and Georgette wanted to come along so I let them hop in. Just a short trip, no problem. Hayley wanted to drive home, so I let her. We got back to the house, she handed me the keys and we both went inside and closed the garage. Twenty minutes later, Jeff said "you did bring the dogs home, right?" Oh, shit! We forgot the dogs. They were so damn QUIET when we got in the driveway, we forgot all about them! Jeff went out to release them from their prison and discovered that Shade had gotten himself completely tangled in the rear bench seatbelt that hangs from the ceiling, having done a complete loop-de-loop and was now ensnared in a tourniquet. A tourniquet made of very strong material not designed to "give" easily. We struggled to get him free, resulting in a bite to my hand and Jeff freaking out and finally ordering me to cut the belt! I had SERIOUS reservations about doing that, thinking we could just duct tape the dog's mouth closed, flip him back over and out of the tourniquet and call it a day. But Jeff was getting increasingly frantic so I grabbed the scissors and cut the belt. Yikes. The dog bolted free and the remnants of the seatbelt retracted into the ceiling. The damage? $164 for a new seatbelt and a half hour or so of labor on Jeff's part to reinstall it. I'm not thrilled about having an "after market" seatbelt installed but if we need to test it's integrity, I have just the dog for the job!

As Told By Shade

What? I was bored. All I do is lay on this couch day in and day out. Ok, I could get up and move a little, but I'm like 13 which is.......well, I don't know........but OLD in dog years. I just wanna lay around all day. But I'm just so.......bored! So, I gnawed on the blanket a little. Ok, I chewed it. Just like the identical blanket I chewed the other day. Don't hate on me - they're yummy. Probably one of the other dog's butts was sitting in that spot and the aroma was just too delectable for me to resist. At any rate, I chewed it. I tried to lay in that spot for a really long time, but eventually I had to move to my night time sleeping spot and, crap! You found my bad. I tried to act all tough by growling and such when you yanked me by the collar to drag me out to the kennel, but the thing is? I kinda like the kennel. So.....sucka! Anyway.......tonight I could smell food in the kitchen. I love that time of night when you people go in there and start banging things around and dropping bits of food on the floor and such. I sneak in and out, grabbing whatever I can. But this night? This night I had a plan. I lay low (on the second blanket I chewed a hole in - did you notice? Oops you did! Now it matches the pillow I chewed yesterday! Cool!). I decided to bide my time by acting all old and tired-doggish, but I KNEW those cupcakes were on the counter. I knew they were frosted delectably with chocolate frosting. And I LOVE chocolate. Who cares if it's deadly? You drink alcohol and that's deadly! I saw you licking frosting off the beaters and your butt isn't exactly getting smaller. That could be deadly too. So, I like chocolate. Sue me. That skinny girl went into the office and I heard her typing away on her paper, and then, oh blessed day!, then you LEFT! You took your purse and keys and LEFT! ME! ALL! ALONE! Now was my chance! I knew I'd have to act fast, which isn't a problem because while I'm stealth and sneaky, I'm also lightning fast. You, yourself, gave me the moniker "crocodile jaws". I walked (no running!) into the kitchen, being careful not to make too many tip tap noises with my overly long nails (could you clip these things? They are really starting to irritate me and mess up my stealthiness). I spied them on the counter - how many? Ten? Twenty? One hundred? No matter, they were mini....all the better to swallow whole! Paper? What paper? I hardly tasted it. Besides, it's good fiber. I slurped them down, one at a time, not stopping to lick my lips or breathe. Someone could come at any minute! Slurp, lick, yum! Chocolately goodness! Oh, crap! What was that? Slurp, lick. Pause. Still. Wait........wait..........wait.........ok, nothin'. Slurp, lick, slurp, lick! DONE! In record time. Ohhhh, my tummy is FULL. Better go lay down on the couch again. On my velvety soft blanket with the one big hole in the middle. Oh, that barf I did this morning? That was the hole! Cool, huh? Erg, my tummy hurts. SHIT! Here she comes! That skinny girl! She's looking........she's confused........fridge, counter, cupboard.......and........wait for it..........wait for it.......SHADE!!!! OH MY GOD YOU STUPID DOG! BAD!! BAD!!! I HOPE YOU DIE! YOU STUPID DOG!!!.......grrrr...........grrrrr.........OUTSIDE! BAD DOG! Slink, slink......I do my quick hop-skip outside. I'm gonna be in so much trouble when that guy comes home. He gets REALLY MAD at me when I do stuff like this. Here he comes.....uh oh........OUCH, OUCH! Ugh, my tummy hurts. And they are leaving me out here a really long time. Woof. I hate being outside this long. Woof. Why won't they let me in. Woof. I don't think they can hear me. Woof. Maybe if I.......woof. woof. woof. OH! There we go! Inside, and..........shit. I'm gonna go to jail. Here I go........the cage opens and......clink! That's it. Behind bars. Damn. Ah well, it was worth it. Besides, I'll get them back tomorrow when I barf all over the carpet. Wait till they see all those wrappers! HA!

Good American, Shade!

Today, Shade blessed us with his (at least) weekly barfing episode. It contained leaves and bark (I swear this dog has pica - what's pica you say? According to dictionary.com, pica is a noun, meaning "an abnormal appetite or craving for substances that are not fit to eat...."), and, oddly enough, an American flag! Not one of those tiny pick things you find on top of a cupcake, no, this was a 5x7 American flag on a stick. Or it once was on a stick, perhaps that was the "bark" in the dog vomit. Seriously, what is wrong with this dog? An American flag? I can't even look at him now without hearing "America the Beautiful" in my head...........

How I Cured My Dog........

So, Shade hasn't been eating much lately. We thought perhaps he was sick, or just getting old. Off to the vet for an expensive evaluation. Blood work showed his liver enzymes were high (I swear that is the ONLY diagnosis our dogs have ever gotten from the vet - "the liver enzymes are high" - WTF?). So, we started him on a round of two antibiotics but he still wasn't much interested in eating.

I thought about it and figured, why WOULD he eat? He gets the same damn food every single day, dry kibble, one bowl and that's it. No wonder the dog is always looking for other food (and non-food) sources. If you were given one bowl of dry cereal at day and some water, would YOU be happy? Poor dog. No cookies. No Cheetos. No Starbucks coffee. It's enough to make him want to hang himself by his leash! I figured he needed some variety. So, he started getting some nice, hot leftovers after dinner. Maybe a few spinach leaves out of my salad. Ok, we even thawed and heated up all the mystery leftovers in the freezer to enhance his diet. But the dog food? Forget it!

Finally I decided that perhaps he needed some dog food enhancement. So, I purchased some meaty-looking Alpo canned dog food (in such enticing flavors as "lamb and beef in beef gravy" and cuts such as "homestyle slices" and "meaty chunks"). What's not to love? In fact, after looking at the label long enough, even I was getting hungry. And at $1 a can, I was thinking two or three cans of that stuff could feed my family! What? Times are hard!

Anyway, after tossing away the notion of feeding this morsel-y goodness to my children, I instructed my husband to mix one half of the can into Shade's dry dog kibble. Voila! Husband came back in to announce that Shade was, once again, a member of the "clean plate club". I was thrilled at this and it made me happy all day. Until the water incident.

I let Shade into the garage (ok, not really "let" him in, he barreled past me as I opened the door) and he eagerly lapped up some water. I went back inside, and closed the door, leaving him to hang in the garage for a while. A few minutes later he barked and I let him in. Not until much later (when my husband came home and discovered it) did I see "dog food lake" - a murky puddle of water and kibble in front of the utility sink. So, maybe this dog is just allergic to water. Or a clean floor. I don't know but he has done more barfing in the past few weeks than a fat kid at a pie eating contest!

So, maybe he's not cured. Or maybe he's just bulimic. But I'm not much liking this skinny, barfy mutt. I do feel sorry for him. For about five minutes until he eats a stick of butter off the counter.

Bad Dog, Shade......again!

Oh Shade. Your antics fail to amuse me. It's bad enough that you snuffle through the garbage looking for candy wrappers to lick. It's worse that you eat strange substances, many of them unidentifiable. Like a couple of weeks ago when you barfed on my bathroom floor and something that looked like an SOS pad sat in a puddle of puke. We don't even have SOS pads. Then, yesterday, when you started to make that sound that strikes terror into the hearts of dog owners everywhere....that sloshy, choky sound that means within seconds something is going to be covered in barf. Oh, I tried my best! I rushed you to the door, but my fingers slipped while trying to open it and I was too late. You splashed dog barf on my carpet, my hardwood floor, and worse, my feet! I had to shower. But first I had to pull the huge rug onto the porch to hose off the big chunks. I really don't care if I ever see that rug again. But tonight, your boldness took on a whole new level. I slipped a few tortillas out of the package to heat for our burrito dinner. I turned around and suddenly felt a strange tugging sensation. Thinking one of the kids was taking the tortillas out of my hand, I turned around again, and imagine my surprise when it was YOU, helping yourself to a bite of tortilla stack. It was like a shark bite in a surfboard.......the whole stack had a crescent-shaped bite mark and YOU, you had the guilty look of a dog who knows when he's gone too far! Some penance in the garage and you started barking incessantly. We finally caved and let you in. Clearly, you are unreformable. Because upon your release, you promptly trotted to the kitchen to put your nose on the countertop looking for scraps. Bad dog, Shade! Bad dog!

Stop Touching My Stuff!!! Or Bad Dog Shade, part ??

My recent posts about there being no respect or boundaries for other people's stuff in the house can now extend to the DOG! Shade, to be exact. He has taken to hopping up on our bed at night. Now, when my sheets were in need of changing, I didn't mind (just this one night and I'll change the sheets tomorrow - however, that changing sheets thing didn't happen the next day or the day after that, or the day after that, but I digress.......). The thing is, while I appreciate that the dog is old and surely more comfortable on OUR bed, he has a perfectly adequate blanket and pillow (yes, his OWN pillow) at the side of our bed which should suit any dog just fine. The REAL problem here is Jeff. Because he LETS the dog get up in the bed and then claims "he just jumped up and wouldn't listen to me when I said to jump down." Yeah, right! True, he has NO control over his dog (we all know who the real alpha dog is around here!), but seriously? Last night I got in bed and not only was Shade lying on MY side (as usual) but his BUTT was on my pillow! It's one thing to have him lie at the end of our bed (preferably on his own blanket so as to keep the dog hair to a minimum), but this dog claims my side as if it's his own, and then has the nerve to plant his backside on my pillow where I put my FACE? I think not. Needless to say, I lost it! I ranted and raved, pointing out how hard I work and how difficult it is to find time to wash sheets in the face of our ridiculously huge laundry piles, and how these were brand-new, clean sheets just put on the bed, etc. and ended with "I want a new pillowcase," slammed the bathroom door behind me and proceeded to get ready for bed. (Jeff did get me a new pillowcase, but still.......). I think the real problem, and what set me off, was that it's like there is NO space in this house I can call my own. The bathroom gets overrun with the girls taking my makeup, my bed is claimed by the dog. No wonder I sit and read on the toilet! It might only take me a few seconds to take care of business in there, but I will sit and finish a chapter of my book because it's the only place I KNOW I can be alone, no one bugging me (and that's not even entirely true, because the kids and Jeff will stand outside the door and talk to me!!). I just think my bedroom should be my sanctuary, at least a place I can escape and know that my ONE HALF of our queen-sized bed is mine and will remain undisturbed until such time as I would like to crawl in and escape (for about five hours, since that's all the sleep I get these days anyway). I swear, if things keep up like this, I'm going to rent a studio apartment for myself. When I want to escape, I'll say something like "I need to pick up a few things at the store!" and I'll race to my apartment where I'll bliss out in total solitude! And perhaps drink tequila straight from the bottle. SIGH.........

Grrrrrr............

Let me start by saying I awoke this morning to a stuffed up head and splitting headache (damn allergies that I never had till living in Seattle!). The sound that awoke me was that dreaded hack of a dog barfing! Yes, Shade, ever lovin' Shade, spewed barf in a six foot wide swath on my bedroom floor. So, as I wait for the carpet cleaner to kick in so I can shampoo the carpet on this NOT FINE Saturday morning, because it's cloudy and gray and icky out and yesterday was sunny and I'm pissed about that too, I will use this opportunity to bitch about a few things (and perhaps make an even longer run-on sentence than I just did!).

So. Last night I went on a long walk with my wonderful friend Amy and it was delightful, warm and sunny and good conversation. Then, we went to The Rock for a drink. I was starving so I ordered these little mini calzone thingys and chose chicken when asked "chicken or pepperoni?" Well, these were about the worst little balls of dough filled with nastiness I've ever had! For one thing, they were some kind of weird, shredded (probably canned) chicken mixed with BLEU CHEESE DRESSING!!! Now, I think bleu cheese dressing is about the worst thing in the world (and a bit pompous, if you ask me, with that "blue" being spelled "bleu" all French and shit). To me, bleu cheese is like eating curdled milk mixed with something really sour (vinegar? saurkraut?) with a little dirt mixed in. Yes, dirt. Bleu cheese tastes like fresh dirt smells. Just ICK! Why would you torture your taste buds with this nastiness? Oh, even thinking about the taste is making me gag a little. Anyway, I just had to send them back. I didn't want to be Miss High Maintenance customer or anything, but it was too much (and I was STARVING and drinking for God's sake, I needed some FOOD!). I got chicken strips instead and even those were weird. They came out looking for all the world like fish and chips. The batter was that thick and slightly mashy kind you often find on beer-battered fish and chips. But no, there was some chicken underneath. After carefully scraping away all the batter (because yes, it was just too much) I ate some chicken, dipped, thankfully, in ranch dresssing (and not that nasty BLEU CHEESE crap, if I haven't made myself clear enough.......).

Ok, enough about what I ate. Here's another thing that pisses me off a little. What is up with Michelle Obama wearing $540 sneakers to the food bank to volunteer? I mean, whatever, she's the Prez Wife and all, but still! $540? My entire shoe collection doesn't add up to $540 (I mean, that's a lotta damn shoes at Payless, you know what I'm sayin?). And it's not like they were diamond encrusted or anything. They looked much like low top Chuck Taylors. So, why the $540? My kids rather enjoy those low top Chucks in all the fun colors. But at $39.99 a pop (on sale) they got them for Christmas! Geesh, Michelle O, think a little.

Also, the stupid dogs are barking their fool heads off in the garage because we're having our neighborhood garage sale today and of course, they have to bark at everything, even when it's nothing! Speaking of garage sales, that is another thing that got me a little rankled. There is this HUGE neighborhood garage sale in my area and it's always held on the first weekend in May. Which means if you're not part of that HUGE sale, it's probably not the best weekend to hold your little ole neighborhood garage sale, based on the fact that you will only get the trickling customers and you'll be lucky if they have any cash left in their wallets after visiting the HUGE sale. This, by the way, is not just my opinion, but based on scientific knowledge (ok, really just a couple years' of experience trying to do this when I was in charge of said sale). But still. I'm not even participating because I wasn't supposed to be here this weekend. So why am I even bitching about it? Because I can...........

Which brings me to this weekend. I was supposed to drive over to Spokane with Jeff and cheer him on in the Bloomsday run (FYI one of the largest footraces, like, I don't know, EVER or something, but whatever). But because we 1. Couldn't get a definitive answer from anyone over on that side (yes, family included!) on where we might be able to stay two nights and 2. Didn't have anyone to watch the dogs, and didn't know if we could bring them along (because said family didn't get back to us), we decided I would just stay behind and watch the dogs and "enjoy" a weekend alone (refer back to previous paragraph about stupid dogs and know that I will probably spend the weekend doing laundry......). Anyway, so off Jeff goes to hang out, ride his bike, have drinks with friends, etc. And run Bloomsday, which don't even get me started on running a 12K! Ugh.

Hmm......have I exhausted all my bitching yet? I dunno.........but here's the thing. It just occurred to me that I could do absolutely nothing all weekend. I could lay in bed, read and eat Twinkies all day and no one would know. (Well, I don't have any Twinkies, but you get the idea). And I woke up with this allergy headache, which is about right for this crappy weather. So, who cares if I sleep it off for, like, 12 hours?

I can't believe my good fortune! Just when I was out of things to whine about, I get a telemarketing call! At 9:30 a.m. on a Saturday! Perfect. And here's the thing. They asked if it was the "Gordon" residence. Which, is halfway right. I mean, half of the people in this house are Gordons right? (But none of them are here, so technically today it's the Moore residence). But this reminds me that it's not so easy to get rid of your previously married name. Now, don't get me wrong. Gordon is a fine name - for my kids. But not for me. I am a Moore now, and I'd like to be known as a Moore to the oustide world. But NO! It's like the Ghost of Gordon Past will haunt me forever. Example number one - the credit card company that WOULD NOT take my ex-husband's name off my account no matter that I sent them copies of both my divorce decree AND my marriage certificate. I ended up having to close the account. Example number two - Safeway. For some reason, they still have me as a "Gordon" in their records so when I shop there and they hand me the receipt, they say "thank you Mrs. Gordon" and I do a double take? Where? Where is my mother in law? Geesh.

Ok, I should go have some Crunchberries now and move on to cleaning up the dog barf in my room. Good times.

Really, really bad dog Shade!!

Shade ate about ten Hershey bars and just now threw up the evidence on my bedroom floor!!! Jeff and I were watching the ER finale and now he's on the floor using the carpet cleaner and scrubbing dog barf residue. I swear, this dog is nothing but a pain in the ass, and frankly, animal lover that I am, I don't see the point in having a "pet" like him. But Jeff goes back and forth, and I know he would never get rid of this beast. Perhaps I can slowly poison him with a wee bit of arsenic sprinkled over his food each day? Now, if only I knew how to find arsenic..........

Bark Barf - or Bad Dog, Shade - Part ??

So yesterday Shade decided to "deliver" a large amount of what was essentially bark onto the family room floor. This dog is such a pain in the a$$. He will eat literally ANYTHING. Among our many happy finds - an entire box of staples, an entire bag of rubber bands (these arrived post-digestion in a perfectly formed, absolutely dry ball - amazing!), cedar siding, truck wiring, Pixos plastic beads, a variety of lip glosses, a tube of toothpaste, bedding, and paper. He has never been to the vet for any of these transgressions - everything passes through uneventfully (and we get to clean up the results!). Jeff talked this morning about getting his mouth wired shut. I suggested maybe he had pica - a strange disorder that causes people to eat non-food things due to iron or zinc deficiency. Jeff reminded me that his escapades run to food products as well. Like last night - he was in our bedroom and the girls opened the door for mere seconds, and that sneakly little criminal slipped out without a sound and was downstairs eating cake off a plate at the table in seconds! I found the overturned plate, fork and crumbs this morning as evidence. BAD DOG SHADE!

Bad Dog, Shade (and Charlie and Georgette!)

Last night we made a very long trek to the airport and back and while we were there, we realized that we'd left chocolate out on the coffee table at home. While Shade was hooked up to his lead (we have to keep him "chained" to the couch leg when we can't be watching him like a hawk or he will eat everything in sight), the other two dogs were "loose" and sure enough, when we returned home, there was a lot of wrapper litter and no chocolate! Now, Shade was definitely NOT the main culprit in this fiasco, but he managed to "convince" the other dogs to bring chocolate his way, as many of the wrappers were within his reach. This morning I discovered a small spot of "evidence" complete with Hershey Kisses wrappers (courtesy of Georgette, as the other two dogs spent the night in the kennel). The part that really makes me mad is that it was MY chocolate, from my stocking and it was GOOD chocolate (not your typical Hershey bar stuff). I really hope those dogs enjoyed getting their daily dose of antioxidants in that dark chocolate. And I hope they have the stomach aches to go with it! Stupid dogs.

Bad Dog Shade - Part ??

Right after we cut the cake tonight and gave everyone a piece, we were all laughing at something and Shade took that opportunity of distraction to slurp down a piece of cake, whole! Unfortunately for him, he left behind the evidence - a paper plate, a fork, and a suspicious shadow in my peripheral vision that alerted me to his naughtiness! Stupid dog! Hayley was quick enough to capture the criminal on camera. If you should spot this hideous criminal be aware that he is armed with no wits and may have tell-tale smudges of chocolate frosting on his lips.

Bad Dog Shade! - Again......

Last night Hannah put Shade in our bedroom because he wouldn't stop barking (a frequent occurrance these days!). When Jeff went upstairs to bed, he discovered Shade had managed to extract a container out of my gym bag (which I had used as an overnight bag for our last camping trip) and consumed unkown amounts of medicines including Tylenol, Advil, Benadryl, Children's Tylenol, and Prilosec. We put him in the kennel for the night, figuring he would get sick at some point. This morning he's as good as new and showing absolutely no signs of having consumed untold quantities of drugs. Stupid dog. Cheated death again!

Bad Dog Shade - Part Four

Yesterday morning Jeff opened up the garage door to let the dogs in so they could go out back. In the second it took for Shade to dash ahead of Charlie and be out of Jeff's sight for a second, he had grabbed a stick of butter off the countertop and had it in his mouth. Jeff saw him and said "what do you have?" and he dropped the butter and tried to hide. Jeff grabbed him and yelled at him and Shade had the audacity to growl at him! Needless to say, he spent the entire day outside as punishment. Bad, bad dog!

Bad Dog, Shade - Part Three

The fun never ends. After the last "dining" fiasco from Shade and his over-indulgence of zucchini cookies, I started all over and made everything again. I had one large zucchini from the garden left, so I was able to make a double batch of the cookies (which I actually made into bar cookies to save time) and two loaves of zucchini bread. I sent some of the bread off to work with Jeff and fixed up three plates of cookies for the neighbors. I left them sitting on the counter, and Shade safely in the kennel when I left for work. Alas, last night Jeff came to me with three paper plates in his hand that he had retrieved from Arlie's bedroom floor. Were these the same plates that once held delicious goodness? Yes, they were. And, once again, the goodness went to Shade's stomach. He must really like zucchini. Or the thrill of the hunt. But I've got a plan. I'm going to cook up something special for him next time. Like arsenic brownies.

Bad Dog, Shade - Part Two!

On Saturday night we had supper club so Hayley was babysitting a bunch of kids at our house. Shade was imprisoned in Arlie's room - or so we thought! At some point, one of the kids must have let him out because he proceeded to eat four dozen cookies that were cooling on racks off the kitchen counter! Stupid dog! He showed his appreciation for this feast by barfing on the deck this morning and letting some rather aromatic gas escape his nether regions this evening. Never a dull moment with the spawn of the Devil.

Bad Dog, Shade!

As you may know, we have a large, old, black dog named Shade. Shade is part hunting dog, so, technically he's Jeff's hunting dog, but once he flushes a pheasant out of the brush, he wants nothing else to do with it (he's no retriever!). When Shade first took up residence in our home, he had been exclusively an outside and garage dog, with occasional forays into a guest bedroom with the door closed, lest he growl like Cujo at unsuspecting visitors. I, frankly, was terrified of this dog. And suddenly he was a permanent resident of my home! He growled at Arlie and Harrison at every turn, and I had to put a stop to it. I had to be the alpha dog! So, one terrifying day, after a particularly nasty show of teeth and a guttural sound (from Shade, not me!), I grabbed his collar and growled back, albeit it not as formidably as he. That was the beginning of a long transition for Shade, which up to today has reached a new level of "freedom" for this son of Satan. He's actually allowed to roam around the house a little instead of being tied up to the leg of the couch (seriously!). That was our compromise to letting him be part of the family in the family room. If not there, he was outside or in the kennel. Kind of a prison-like existence, no? However all that is with good reason. Let me tell you about Shade's antics. Before he was "mine", he was Jeff's (and we still argue, along with Hannah, over who he loves more!), and he performed some amazing feats. Like one day he ate the siding off one huge section of Jeff's house. Yes, he ATE it. He didn't tear it up and leave it strewn about. No, he was kind enough to consume his destructiveness and suffer no ill effects. Soon after that, he was left in his dog run overnight with Jeff's truck. Upon awakening, Jeff discovered that Shade had chewed up all the wiring to the lights under the truck. Since he's been in my house, he has refrained from structural damage, but his antics are unique just the same. He has "unzipped" a ziploc bag and eaten a sandwich out of it, leaving the bag behind with nary a tear. He consumed two entire one-pound bags of Easter chocolates, foil wrappers and all, with no ill effect. He once stole a banana off the counter and peeled it, consuming the inside and leaving the peel just perfect. Last night he repeated his banana trick, only this time no peel was to be found, only a slightly chewed stem. This dog will wait until everyone is occupied and then sneak out of the room, foraging upstairs in the kids' rooms where he is sure to find a few cracker crumbs left in a box or a package of Reese's Pieces left over from a birthday party. (Let me stop here to say that my kids are NOT ALLOWED to eat in their rooms, but they break the rules all the time, clearly!). If there is no delectable delight to be found in his favorite haunts, he is just as content to eat lip gloss, toothpaste, breath mints, and lotion. He has never once been to the vet for anything except a regular checkup, having an iron-clad digestive system that seems to handle what goes in. On top of that, he is always "verbal" making whining sounds, barking incessantly, or just breathing loudly. And to top it off, this huge dog, weighing in, I'm guessing, somewhere between 80 and 90 lbs. thinks he is a lap dog. He will climb right up into your lap or on the bed and snuggle, head on the pillow and everything! Which might be cute if he didn't smell so bad and have dew claws that could gut you in one swipe. In people years, this dog is like 75, yet he still managed to attempt getting amorous with Georgette right in front of us yesterday, even though he's had his manhood removed years ago! I kicked him off, saying "you dirty old man!" Yes, Shade is unique, the quintessential "bad dog". Some days I could just leave him on a freeway off-ramp. But somewhere inside my stone-cold heart I have a soft spot for him, poor fool that he is. And so I offer him a blanket at my bedside and saved an old pillow just for his comfort. But if he eats another banana off the counter again, I'm going to kick him to the moon!