My Bit of Earth

Moe Speaks: Summer is ON!

Mom cleaned the duck pool today.  I helped.  It was awesome!   

Moe Speaks: They're Going to Disneyworld

Mom and Dad left me today. Rest assured, I am not completely abandoned--Auntie Roz is holding down the farm.

The troubling part is that Mom said they're going to see a very big mouse. I don't understand how I was left out of such a vacation. I would love to meet that mouse....and bark at him and tear him to bits!

Moe Speaks: Fierce Chicken Protector

Went outside tonight to do my nightly P&P (that's pee and patrol), when I noticed something wasn't right in the chicken coop.  Although I would very much like to have the chickens for dinner myself, you can bet your last squeaky toy that I'm not going to let anything else eat them.  Mom's awfully fond of them, and, they're sort of becoming family...in the way that creatures can be family when you'd gladly have them poached with gravy...but, anyway, the point is no other critters are going to hurt them--not on my watch!

But just as I was getting into some good, scary barking at the young upstart that was trying to get my chicks, Mom came outside fit to be tied.  Something about "neighbors" and it being late and "damned crazy terrier".  After the third "inside" command, I figured I'd better do as I was told, chicks to protect or not.  I went in, and, without even a word of thanks, Mom roughly wiped off the mud from my paws, scolding me the whole time.

And then, the lightbulb went off in her head.  (Aside: If you're going to successfully train a human you have to always be watching for those lightbulb moments--the times when they all of a sudden "get it".)  Her face screwed up in a funny smile, she grabbed a flashlight, and walked back out to the coop.

Sure enough, she found that this ferocious beastie had already breached the outer run perimeter and was attempting to crawl into the coop with the ladies.  Two seconds alone with him and I could have finished him off forever, but Mom insisted that he was just a baby who didn't know any better.  Because by that time she was loving-me-up-to-the-skies for my heroic deed, I was feeling gracious and let the culprit live.

Moe Speaks: The Peep-Cheeps

Fergus!  Taffy!  Any-doggy!  I need HELP!

Surely someone among the genius-Welsh-collective can help me solve this riddle.  Because if I could just get through this vent in the floor, I could have unlimited access to the Peep-Cheeps.  

I can hear them, but I need to know how to tunnel to them....

 

Moe Speaks: In Which I Refuse to Be Neglected

Mom and Dad have been gadabouts lately, I tell you--gadabouts!

First, all our family was in town--truly, in the past week I have been scratched behind the ears by almost all of my grandparents, both aunties, and my wee little cousin--which required some humans-only entertaining out.  Then Mom had to go away for some work, and Dad used that as an excuse for a "Boy's Night".  I am baffled that I was not invited--I am a boy, after all--and Dad came home smelling of cat so I know they must've done something fun.  Then, tonight, Dad's Nice Boss gave them tickets to a funny show called "Avenue Q".  Apparently, it was hilarious, but, again, no pups allowed.

While I was not totally abandoned in all of this--someone was always home for eating and peeing times, of course--my daily hour of snuggling-and-general-adoration was certainly being missed.

When Mom and Dad got home this evening, I sat Mom down and registered my displeasure.  I'm not always 100% sure we understand each other, what with the language barrier and all, but tonight I think she got the message loud and clear--it's time for a few nights of staying in and paying attention to me!  (OK, Porterhouse too....)

 

Dogs, Outtakes

Moe: Throw it, throw it, throw it!!!!!

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Moe: May I help you?

Porter: The grooming is great, but the laying on top of me?  Not so much.

Moe Speaks: Sleep Training

A few weeks ago, Dad carried my basket upstairs at bedtime and plunked me into it.  I generally like my basket so I was willing to be cooperative for a minute....that was my first mistake.

Then I hopped out of my basket to get into bed, and Mom went, "Eh, eh" in that way that means bad things.  

Do you know I think they were expecting me to sleep all night in my basket?

 

The status quo is I'm humoring them by at least starting the night in the basket, but once they go to sleep they can't yell at me for crawling into my nice, warm, big bed.  I have their best interests at heart really--how will they stay toasty without me?

Moe Speaks: It's so funny that I forgot to laugh....

 

Another of Dad's little jokes....

"Hey look!  If we just put some Velcro on the ceiling Moe could hang out up here all day!"

I pretend to be amused, but only because it's my birthday this week and I'm angling for something good. 

Porter Speaks: Waiting for the Man With the Bag

Mom says Santa will be coming soon.  I'm watching for him very carefully.

It's my duty to bark at everyone who enters our house, of course, but also I want to be sure to get the jump on Moe vis-a-vis Santa's bag of treats.  While Moe is much quicker than I am these days, I have infinitely more patience--thus, the waiting....

And I'm also hoping he'll give me something extra special if I return his hat!

Moe Speaks: This is Also INAPPROPRIATE

In addition to carrying me like a goat, Dad thinks it's funny to put me in boxes.

Don't worry, he doesn't seal the lid or anything.  He just closes it lightly over the top of me, then laughs as my head pops out.  

He likes to do it with laundry baskets too.

I apparently don't understand his twisted sense of humor.

(Incidentally, the chew marks on the box--totally Porterhouse!)

Porter Speaks: A Room With a View

One of the things I like about this new place is that some of the windows are dog height.  It's so very hard to stretch up and put my paws on a windowsill these days.  I like it that I can keep an eye on the squirrels and birds without climbing...indeed, I don't even have to get out of bed!

Moe Speaks: I Am Not a Goat

While I do admit that I like to be carried and held every now and then--up to bed when I'm sleepy, under Mom's sweater when I'm cold--I am firmly stating here and now that this type of carrying is inappropriate Dad, very inappropriate for my status as supreme being of my house.  

I am a dog and a Welsh Terrier--two qualities that make me one of the finest creatures on this earth.  I can't just be slung over your shoulder like any old livestock!

Moe Speaks: Pondering Leaves

I long ago accepted that my mother is a bit stranger than most humans when it comes to cleaning things, but last weekend she tried to clean up the yard.  

I don't just mean that she picked up my poops--which I appreciate--but she swept up all the leaves too.  I wish I understood the purpose of this....

Happy Howl-O-Ween!

Meryl: See, I picked a devil costume this year because Moe is a devil inside and now a devil outside too--get it?

Porter: LMAOROTFL!

Sweet Husband: Moe-Moe, I'm glad your...manly parts...have already been removed....

Moe: If y'all don't throw my squeaky toy for me at least a hundred times after this, I'm going to poop on you in your sleep.....

Porter: Still LMAOROTFL!

Meryl: Oh hush you three!  Happy Howl-O-Ween everybody!

Moe Speaks: A Walk in the Woods With My New Friend

I do not much like other dogs, but this Leroy fellow--whom I previously dismissed and, I'm ashamed to say, beat up on a little--might just be alright.  

This weekend we went to his house for a walk.  Leroy's Mom and Dad recently rented a new house that came with its very own woods and creek, and suggested that we come out and enjoy it.  The parents (both Leroy's and mine) reasoned that, with all that space and all the toys and food picked up, there could be no reason for us all to be less than sociable.  

We had a wonderful time, wandering through the woods and splashing in the creek.  Although I did have to tell him once to get out of my space, I really do think that, on the whole, the walk was a success!

OK, but aside from the fun with friends, the most awesome thing happened.  I almost caught a turkey!  Yes, you heard me, a turkey!

We were walking along and I smelled something funny, so I went off the path into the woods.  Seconds later I bolted him out and he flew off--just barely missing Mom who, small blame to her, yelled and almost fell down in surprise.  It was so cool!  Mom said if I would have really got him, she would have let me eat part of him for Thanksgiving dinner.  

Another funny thing happened while we were swimming in the creek.  Mom tried to sit down on a rock to watch us swim, and Leroy--being the considerate dog that he is--went to check on her and give her a hug.  Oh how she squealed with a wet, muddy Lab in her lap!

The leaves were very pretty, and Mom was excited when she found some deer tracks.  I was excited when I found these tennis balls...until I tried to pick one up and discovered that they are not, in fact, tennis balls.

I wanted to go in this old box car and see if I could find more potential snacks, but Mom said no way.  There's always next time though!

Moe Speaks: I Will Not Be Ousted

We have a problem.  Mom and Dad--mostly Dad 'cause, lets face it, he's the enforcer--have been half-heartedly "training" me to sleep in "the dog bed".  A short visual demonstration is necessary to explain the scope of this problem.

See this?  This is my bed.  (D'ya hear that?  MINE!)

This is Porter's bed.

This is the dog bed.

Again:

Now tell me, seriously, which of these beds would you chose to sleep in?  

But, just so you all don't get too worried, please know that Mom and Dad's resolve weakens to nothing once they've been asleep for a bit.  While I do have to start each night in the dog bed, my bed is retaken quickly as soon as they start to snore.

Moe Speaks: You Can Bring a Girl to the Street Dance...

...but you can't make her polka.

This is me at the annual Labor Day Street Dance in Mom and Dad's old hometown.  My Pretty Auntie (Meryl: That would be Sweet Sister) took me as her non-date companion, but when we got there--for some reason that I cannot fathom--she absolutely would not take me out on the dance floor for a polka.

Perhaps it's better that way.  It is certainly hard to keep up that 3/4 "oomph-bop-bop" rhythm when you (literally) have two left feet!

Moe Speaks: Ten Throws

I've trained Mom to do a new trick--are you ready for it?  Everyday when she comes home from work, we walk through the garden together looking for ripe tomatoes.  Then she sits down on the back steps and throws the ball for me ten times.  (Some days she gets distracted and does more, but it's always at least ten times.)  Isn't she a smartie?!?

Well, some days I do have to remind her a little bit.... 

C'mon Mom, let's go!  Throw it!  Throw it!!!

Leaping through the air with the greatest of ease!

Flying over the ground...I'll run anywhere for my ball!

Chew break!

OK, time to get back to work.  Only...where's my ball?  Ball???  OHMYGOODNESS!  I CAN'T FIND IT!  WHERE IS MY BALL?!?  OH!  DISTRESS!  AGONY!  HEARTBREAK!!!  OH...hey, there it is....

If I can train my human to throw my ball everyday, you other doggies can too--now get out there and go for it!

Moe Speaks: From This Spot

From this spot, I can....

Look out the window at passers-by, guard the house from intruders, check on the neighbors....

Sleep, snooze, snore.  And occasionally (but not necessarily today, because she is watching) have a good rumple in Mom's pillows....

Ponder life and my purpose in it....think about questions like, "Why are tennis balls round?"  That's really important, ya know....

(Note from Meryl:  The pillows--which Moe and Porter both love to rumple in whenever I turn my back--came from etsy seller Leslie Janson.  Love them!)

Moe Speaks: I Have an Itch to Scratch

OhmyDOG have I been itchy lately!  Darned 'skeeters are biting me like it's going out of style and I do not like it!

The other day Mom got worried about it and sent out an APB--who had ideas for an itchy terrier?  My pal Fergus' mom responded with a suggestion for the full anti-itch treatment.  I was bathed, sprayed, powdered, bandaged, and...this is so embarrassing...onesie'd!

Of course, I didn't put up with that for long.  Although I'll admit that the bath and stuff was very soothing, the baby clothes bit had to go.  I figured out those snappy things pretty fast, so Mom let me wear my "Squirrel Patrol" t-shirt instead--not as good as being nekked, but at least I don't look as STU-pid.  Still having to wear the EVIL CONE and a dumb band-aid on a particularly bad itchy on my neck--although I ate part of it and threw it back up just to make sure Mom and Dad knew my opinion.

But there is a silver lining.  First, I do seem to be feeling less itchy.  Second, Mom felt guilty, so I got a new toy out of the deal.