My Bit of Earth

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.  

Moe Speaks: My Vast Domain

Would you check out what Mom and Dad got me?  My very own little kingdom full of smells and dirt and squirrels and grass!  

They've been working on it for awhile now, but tonight the fence was officially finished and I got to chase balls all night long.  

I think Mom and Dad are also pretty happy.  Ever since we moved to this new place, we've been taking about five walks a day.  While it's been nice to get to check out the neighborhood all the time, I think they like it better when they don't have to be on the other end of my leash.

Of course, Porter immediately began looking for a secret passageway to get outside of the fence, but so far she hasn't come up with any.  While life certainly is nice within our fence, I can see how being able to get out of it could come in handy if, say, a cat was teasing us from outside.

Here's a closer shot--any doggy see any weaknesses?

Moe Speaks: Mom Knocked Me Silly On the Scary Stairs

Hey everybody!  It's been awhile I know, but I've been ever-so-busy exploring and supervising at the new place.  I really like it so far, except for one little thing....the tricksey, evil, scary basement stairs.

Now, I'm a very brave dog, but it took even me a few days to be brave enough to try these stairs.  They're wicked steep, and the concrete floor at the bottom?  Not soft at all.  But the really scary part is that there are sneaky dangers, like the one that got me today.

Mom didn't realize that I had followed her downstairs, so when she came back up she shut the door.  When she realized I was still down there, she went to open the door for me, but I wasn't back far enough.  The door swept me over the left edge of the stairs and I landed on my back on the concrete floor--ouch!  

I'm comfortable enough in my doghood to admit, I cried just a little--it really hurt!  Mom scooped me up real quick, and took me upstairs to Dad.  At first I felt OK, but then I got a little woozy.  (Meryl: He was doing some sort of drunken-crab-walk and his eyes were rolling back in his head--scared the bejeezus out of me!)  Mom and Dad were pretty worried, so it was into the car for a surprise visit to my doctor.

Of course, by the time we got there I was feeling better.  I'm a terrier after all, I bounce back fast!  But my doctor still looked my legs over and shined a funny light in my eyes.  The verdict? No broken bones, no neurological damage--whatever the heck that is--basically, Doc said Mom must've just knocked me silly.  She gave me some good drugs in case I was in pain later and sent us on our way.

(Meryl: And, of course, he was back on the darned stairs almost instantaneously!  Thought I might have knocked some sense into him, but no such luck....)

Moe Speaks: Oh. My. Goodness.

Our house is full of boxes.  And, Mom gave away my favorite chair--to a complete stranger, no less.  Just left it out on the curb, and somebody came by and put it in their car!

My humans have clearly gone insane....but they're still feeding me, so all hope is not lost.  Eggs and potatoes for Sunday breakfast, as usual.

Moe Speaks: Water Season!

Porterhouse divides up the year into two seasons: Walking Season and Not Walking Season.  But I base my calendar on something far more important: WATER!

And water season began with a bang at our house this weekend!

It all started when Mom and Dad were discussing taking us for a walk.  I could tell they didn't really want to go--Dad said it was kinda hot out and Mom had prickly skin because she had tried to barbeque herself in the sun earlier in the day.  Dad said, "Porter looks pretty happy where she is....."  (Sleeping in the sun.)  And Mom said, "But Moe looks like he's a little stir crazy....hmmm, maybe we could just get out the H-O-S-E?"

And they did.  And it was wonderful!

Moe Speaks: HELP! They're Taking My Stuff!

I don't know what's going on, but I think I need back-up on the double!

Mom and Dad have lost it!  They're putting all of our stuff into boxes, including some of my toys!  Mom said we're "moving" it all to a different place.  Why the heck would we take our stuff some place different?  We need it to be here, where we are!  

Especially my squeaky chicken, I can't believe she packed my squeaky chicken!  He won't like the other place, because he'll be lonely there...unless...you don't think Mom and Dad would put me in a box and send me to a different place, do you?

HELP any-doggy, HELP!!!

Moe Speaks: Tips and Tricks Part 2: No More Halties!

Hello there doggies!  Today another tip for training your humans--no more Halties!

Like many of your humans, I'm sure, my mom and dad are under the mistaken impression that they should be comfortable on my walks.  So they bought this black, strappy thing called a Haltie that goes over my nose and keeps me from pulling them along when they're walking too slow.  Not good!

I've tried getting out of it by rubbing my nose in the grass.  Doesn't work at all, so don't waste your time.  Instead, convince your humans to take it off for you, like I did.  How, you ask?

Well, your best chance is to wait until the weather's kind of muggy.  Act really hot--tongue lolling out, panting, the works!  Then, start hanging back a little bit.  Walk really slow, and maybe even pretend something is wrong with one of your feet.  (This will probably get you a paw inspection, but it's a small price to pay.)  

Before long, your mom (or whichever of your parents is the bigger softie--in my house it happens to be mom) will feel bad for you.  She will worry that you're getting too hot, and off the wretched Haltie will come!  (She might carry you for a little while too if you're carry-able.  While this limits opportunities to sniff, if you drape your head over her shoulder and really play it up, you might even get to play in the hose when you get home!)

Moe Speaks: In Which I Defended Mom's Life

I defended Mom's life the other day.  Dad says she was never in harm's way, and Mom was completely not worried throughout the entire incident--but they obviously didn't understand the danger, of course.

It all started when we were sitting outside after Mom got home from work.  She was making things with sticks and yarn with her hands, and kicking the ball for me with her feet.  Porter--whose senses are obviously not as sharp as mine--was napping in the sun.

All of a sudden, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a bit of movement right up next to the house.  I ran over to investigate, and Mom put her sticks down and followed me.  She told me to "wait" so I did.  (Note from Meryl: And my heart about burst with pride.)  But I didn't take my eye off the little slithery-slider even for a second.  

Because it was, in fact, a slithery-slider.

Once Mom gave me the "OK" I ran in closer to investigate.  The slithery-slider was obviously scared to death of my terrier-stare, and when I barked at it, it quickly slunk into a hidey hole before I could rip it to shreds for coming near my mother.  I watched its hole for awhile longer, but the coward didn't dare to show its face again with me on the alert!