What up dawgs?

I know it's been ages since my last blog, but that's not my fault. Apparently my mother has been too busy, or too sad to blog for me because, well, lately things have been going downhill for me. But let's not dwell on the melodramatic. Let me give you an update on what's been going on with me and the other dogs in my life.


I'll start with my friend Red. He recently came over for a weekend to stay, or at least that's what his mother intended. Red had a completely different agenda. He ran away. It gave my mom quite a scare. She searched for him for hours, followed every lead she got, and when she had given up hope, she hung up missing posters. That same evening, she got the brilliant idea to post something on Craig's list. Lo and behold, some good citizen had gotten Red to stop running long enough for the doggy police to pick him up and take him in. Thanks to the posting on Craig's list, she was able to assure Red's mommy that he was safe in jail for the night and that she would go get him in the morning.

You may wonder why I'm telling you about this, since it really isn't about me. Well, let me tell you. The morning after Red's great escape, before my mommy went to pick him up in jail, she let me outside to do my morning duties, and get this.....she forgot me! I know. It seems utterly impossible someone could lose two dogs in less than 24 hours, but that's just what she did. She let me out and then went to breakfast. That left me no choice but to wander the neighborhood looking for someone to help me get back home.

To add insult to injury, when the kind neighbor called her to report me found, she denied any knowledge of me. She said the person must be confused and that the dog she was looking for had been found and was in jail. It took the neighbor a few tries before my mom realized it was me that she had lost this time. The gall of that woman. I almost ran away on purpose after that incident. I'm still giving her the cold shoulder. And poor Red. He must still be traumatized. He actually ran so long and so far his paws blistered and peeled.

In other news, Barkley has discovered the joys of the fan. I, on the other hand, just insisted my mother install an air conditioner. Fans are so 1980.

With my health continuing to deteriorate, things have been rough for me. I am having more trouble than ever getting up and down. I can no longer do any stairs without assistance. I really have no interest in walks or balls anymore. Mommy thinks I might be on my last leg. I believe she's planning on putting me down come winter. This has been a difficult decision for both of us. I want her to do what's right for me, but I love her so much and I know she won't be able to cope with my loss.




While I've been experiencing a lot of lasts as of late (like my last bath ever), I recently experienced a first. My mother was out at a concert when one of her old friends came up to her to express their condolences on my passing. I guess she got the impression from my blogs (or the lack thereof) that I had passed away or been put down. I guess that's why I decided to make a deal with mom. I let her brush me in exchange for her posting a blog. So folks, there it is. I'll try to write more, but as you know, my mother is awful busy. She owes me big time though.

A walk in the woods

I went on a hike about a month ago at Corbett's Glenn. It was a beautiful place, but the rolling hills sure did tire me out.

We get by with a little help from a friend.

Are we there yet?

I guess that wasn't so bad.

Can't get into the Cadillac with muddy paws now, can we?

Meet my new roommate

I recently moved into yet another apartment. Although I do wish my mother would just stay put for a while, I'm kind of excited about this new living arrangement because this house comes with a roommate. Meet Barkley, a 12-year-old Chow, Cocker Spaniel, Golden Retriever mix. She's even got a purple tongue.

At first, things were a little testy between Barkley and I. We had two little fights, both which resulted in me being pinned to the ground, but now that we've come to an agreement on who's the boss, things are really great. I pretend she's the boss, but I secretly know I rule this roost. Mommy said it's good for me to have a companion to grow old with.

It's nice to have someone to walk beside. Sometimes I even lean on Barkley a little bit for help keeping my balance. She doesn't like treats nearly as much as I do, and she seems to have turned a blind-eye to my tennis ball. She has squeaked my fuzzy soccer ball a few times, but she seems to understand it's not something to chew on, only to be admired and kicked around, so I haven't stopped her from using it yet.

Although she's much more spry than I am, she's not very fast when it comes to eating her treats, so I've taken to gobbling up my own treat and then quickly rushing to where Barkley is with hers and stealing it. She usually gets mad, but I don't care.

I think I've taught this young whippersnapper a few new tricks. Being that she's still able to jump on the people bed, she sleeps there by day. She likes the vantage point from the bed for people watching, but I know for a fact she's also making eyes at the Spud's Mckenzie dog that lives on the second floor across the street. Mommy told me she's caught them staring at one another a few times. Barkley recently got her own bed, so now she's getting the feel of what it's like to be a real dog. I have to admit, I'm a little jealous of Barkley's bed and when she's not using it, I'll sleep on it just to remind her who's the real boss here. I'm sure you'll hear more about Barkley and I in future blogs. Barkley doesn't have a blog. She's just not there yet.

I will survive

Sorry I've been on hiatus from blogging folks. My mommy told me many of you were looking forward to reading my stuff, so I apologize for the long absence. I've had a lot going on, much of which I'll be getting into over my next few blog posts, but first and foremost, I have to tell you all the great news. I'm not dying!!! I went to the vet yesterday and I got a new leash on life.

For the past few weeks, I've been having a lot of of trouble getting around. I've been falling a lot, walking around like I am drunk, and turning around has been nearly impossible. If I get myself backed into a corner, I find the best way to get out is to sit down, walk my front legs around to the direction I need to head in, and then I drag my back legs up and head on my merry way. It's been pretty hard for my mommy to watch, and she's been concerned that I might be in pain, or on my last legs (no pun intended). When mom's friends come over and see how I'm acting, they get really sad, or say "poor dog." There's been talk about maybe getting me a wheelie cart for my back legs, or even worse, putting me to sleep.

Well, thank god my mommy got an expert's opinion, because it winds up I'm not even close to knockin' on heaven's door, or at least not as close as mom feared I was. Apparently I wasn't taking a strong enough dose of my Rimadyl and so it was barely even helping me. The vet more than doubled my dose.

According to the vet, there's pressure on my spine, either from a tumor, a cyst or a bulged disc, which is stopping the communication between my head and my back legs. The vet said it's like walking around without being able to feel your feet or know where they are. It's just something that happens with old age, and it simply means I need a little more time to get around. But the good news is, he reassured mom I'm not in pain.

The best news is, the vet told my mom there are three indicators of when a dog is getting ready to die or be put to sleep; appearance, activity and appetite. My mommy told him that my appetite is the same as it's always been. Although it's a bit more difficult for me to move around, that doesn't stop me from pacing the floors constantly or walking in the park or around the block. As for appearance, well, I'm as gorgeous as ever. Besides some tartar build-up on my teeth, the vet said I'm in excellent shape for my age and he thinks I have a good amount more time on the earth. So, look forward to more blogs in the future. Until my back legs give out entirely, or something else changes, I'm not going anywhere. (Mom, please get more treats for me because this calls for a celebration.)

I'm really sorry I haven't had time to blog lately. Mom said people are going to stop reading if I don't come up with something to write about soon. I'm just exhausted lately. Getting old is a lot harder than I could have ever imagined. I turn 15 tomorrow.

A few of my favorite things

Now that spring is here and the snow is gone making it easier for me to walk, I figured I'd blog about a few of my favorite things.


1. Lying in the sun at the beach, in grandma's Florida room or at home.


2. My fuzzy soccer ball. Please refer to Introducing the amazing tales of Lucy for a photo of the ball.

3. My grandma. After getting off on the wrong foot with her by chewing some antique furniture, I finally won her over and now I'm her favorite grand-dog.

4. Treats. Only the best for me, Milk-Bone brand. Please refer to Dog Training 101 in order to get your owner to provide maximum number of treats per day.

5. Cleaning myself. I like to think I have the cleanest and whitest paws in Rochester, if not the country.

6. Smelling things. It's the beagle in me.

7. Squirrels. Mom once captured a picture of me running half-way up the tree after one. I haven't done that in years. Once I caught a squirrel in my grandma's yard and I broke it's leg. Mommy is still upset with me over that incident.


8. My mom. She knows how to scratch me in the right places, and which treats to buy me. She's always trying to find ways to make my life easier, although she also tries to rush me a lot.

9. Getting my ears itched. When it's done right, I make a groaning noise to express my appreciation.

Knock, knock, knocking on heaven's door

Okay, so for the most part, my blogs are usually funny and upbeat, but these past few days I've been really feeling my age. In just 10 days, I'll be turning 15 years old.

I attended a birthday party this weekend at a house with all wood floors. It was very difficult for me to get around. I am falling a lot more than usual lately. Yesterday, I was over at my friend Barkley's house eating some of her food and I fell on the floor pretty hard, spilling the entire dish of food all over. And today, I got a stomach ache and threw-up my breakfast. I know I'm not getting any younger. I love my mommy so much I can't stand the thought of leaving her all alone, but lately I'm just so tired, clumsy and forgetful.

I know the issue of how long I should live is weighing heavily on my mommy's mind. I suppose I don't make it any easier on her when I have my good and bad days. One day I'm knocking on heaven's door, and the next, I'm off hiking more than a mile. Sooner or later I know my mommy's going to make an appointment with the veterinarian and I'm pretty sure they're going to tell her she has to get me a new medicine, one that will be much pricier than the medicine I am currently taking.

So, how do you know when it's time? Since I can't tell my mommy myself, maybe some of my dear followers could give her some guidance or advice, or even just a little comfort as my final destination draws closer.