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Sahara's new fetish.

Sahara has a new addiction. Buoys. One had come ashore at St Kilda yesterday, and another doggie walked past proudly holding it in his mouth - until Sahara saw it, and then it was a lost cause. I have had to leave it in my car to stop her playing with it - she pounces on it, runs with it like a soccer ball and generally worships it, while squeaking at it and making strange hysterical yelps, because it's too big to pick up with her teeth.
Strange dog.

...birthday wishes

How sweet! Sahara was wished happy birthday by the doggies at Beneful. Not that I would ever feed my dog that scag, but I have them registered on their dog blog thingy. They sent me a printable birthday hat, which for some reason won't upload to share with you.

Dogster, my favorite doggy forum, sent Sahara 25 bones (like a cute way of telling a dog you think they're pretty!) and a rosette in the shape of a birthday cake. Awww!

She seemed to enjoy her doggie choc chip cookies, and I see Finn & Sootie have their special doggie donuts in store - looks like I will be making a trip to Kew tomorrow morning!

Same old, same old...

my wake up call, as usual.


Happy 1st Birthday to my gorgeous girl.

Ham & Chicken flavored cake is on the menu this morning.

Yum.

My little Baby is growing up.

It's Sahara's first birthday tomorrow, and I'm getting a little anxious as to what to do about it. I don't want to be a crazy doggy mommy as I always fear, and go all out with a cake (which I will obviously end up eating it, unless I make it out of mincemeat and meaty bites or something), nor do I want to let the occasion go unmarked.

Does anyone have any suggestions for the Queen of the Under Prepared?

(I did find these doggy candles in case I decided to go through with the cake idea, but they look rather phallic to me).

Ouchies!

I went to visit my brother for his birthday yesterday. I think he particularly enjoyed Sahara - she's met her match in him; someone who gives as good as she does, and retaliates even better. And yes, that's my 'blow up man' in the right of the shot - he has no appendages, he is merely for comic value when the religious people knock at the door/when entertaining guests. As you can see, Phoenix was loving the attention (from Mum, not Clinton, the blow up man), and giving his best 'my mother beats me' type smack of the paw, indicating he wants some lovin' because he's just so neglected. Ha. Mum and I took them for a lovely walk through the wetlands, and as she has some neurotic fear they will eat small children, I kept them on leash (with many warnings Sahara likes playing in bogs and will quite happily drag one in after her) and Phoenix was sporting his new choke chain. I wondered why he kept getting a dirty patch on his neck, and on closer inspection realized it had BURNED A HOLE IN HIS NECK (see photo evidence below). It took off around an 8cm strip, complete hair loss and red raw skin. It doesn't seem to bother him, and he's lapping up all the attention I'm giving him for being such a mean puppy mummy.
On the long drive home, I asked Chef to tape a show on called 'Millionaire Dogs', which I watched this morning. Other than how callous they were about how many dogs are euthanized each day in NYC, and showing pet stores with puppies for sale in a somewhat encouraging way, it was pretty darn good - although hit a little too close to home with the whole 'I do that...' and 'If I had the money Sahara would have those' type moments.

Doing what she does best.

My little slurry :)

Snapshots

When I woke up all snuffly and putrid this morning, I asked D for an extra blanket, which he duly fetched. As he was tucking my up into a cocoon, I noticed he was carefully doing the same to Sahara and Phoenix, who were happily cuddled up beside me. It got me wondering who was the top priority in this family. I then started thinking about the first few days and weeks we had Sahara, when D would rush home to see how she was liking her new food/how many puddles she'd made on the carpet/just how violently she had ripped apart the swimming pool and my belongings.




So, of course, I started going through my happy snaps of her when she was oh so tiny. All 1700+ of them. And I thought I'd share with the world just how adorable she was, way back when, when her ears didn't stand up and she was almost pure white with orange ears...

1 & 2: The first two photos of my darling, when she first came home from the pet shop and I was presented with my beautiful puppy, who I'd begged for after seeing all alone in a pet shop for weeks...(and yes, I know all about puppy mills, back yard breeders and such, but like hell I was going to leave my soul mate in a tiny glass cage to rot).




3 & 4: Day trips to the beach over Xmas, and driving around with my new pooch, who had attitude from day one...

5 & 6 The first two photos of her ears standing up! Doesn't she look like an alien??



7: Trying to cool off on a nasty Summer day in the shower.



and 8: my all time favorite photo of my little bug :)

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Totally adorable, is she not?

Killer Whipper Snipper

I don't know which is more amusing to me - Phoenix attacking a whipper snipper, or the vast amounts of smoke issuing from it.

Also - in my previous post - here - I mentioned The Paws Store and all it's doggy brilliance, and I see there was a very similar article in the Sunday Herald Sun this week. I should so totally be given a job by them now.

...gag

Last night as I was watching CSI, D randomly yelled "He's gonna be sick!". Now, I was a little preoccupied with drooling over CSI Stokes (phoar! tasty!) and to be honest, wasn't really paying any attention to anything D was saying. That is, of course, until I heard it. Yep, Phoenix started gagging. His sides started heaving. There was drool. Knowing what he's like, there was a mad scramble to remove him from upholstered objects, and as I knew there wouldn't be time to make it to the back door (and I didn't fancy unchewed Meaty Bites all over my front step) I did the only thing a dirty, country bred girl could do. I grabbed the plate we were eating dinner off, and shoved it under his gob while he barfed.

Now, let me tell you when I first had an issue with vomit. When my family dog, Babe, spewed, she did it well. I came home one day to an entire laundry full of sick, which smelt so vile, and was covered in a green foamy substance, it has been burned into my mind forever more. It took me AGES to clean up - stuck in that stinky room will half masticated rib eye, sloshing around in a pool of grass, stomach acid and string. Yeah, I don't know where that came from, but she had a real fetish for it.

So, of course, the first time Sahara vomitted in the car, so did I. It's like a chain reaction - she starts heaving, I see her go and it sets me off, and there's never quite enough time to pull over.

Last night was no different. But, to give me credit, I had managed to fully disinfect the plate and make the decision to never eat from it again before I upchucked. And I managed to be far, far away from any rug, couch or doona cover, which is more than I can say for the dogs usually.

... for my lovely banner :)


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Not Impressed Vol: 2

Not impressed...

This is the state of my fence...

...all the various holes my estate agent has had 4 months to fix...
















...and below is what happens when I have to lock the dogs inside, due to fucking ridiculous lack of fence...

Sahara's bed. Egg cartons. Milk. Pancake Mix in the kitchen...and then Phoenix's bed, door knobs and all the sticky tape holding the shower door shut in the bathroom, as can be seen in the video above.












Stay tuned for What Happens When Katie Gets Mad At Having No Fence, VOLUME II: Getting Real Estate Agents Fined And Ass Whooped For Being Unprofessional, Overpaid Twats.

A trifle disconcerting...

I found some doggy quotes that were supposedly meant to make people laugh, but make me a little worried because they are disturbingly very close to the mark...

You've just spent $60 on groceries and realize none of it is for yourself...

You often claim that it was love at first sight with you and your dog...

You justify the addition of a significant other in your life so you can have
someone to
hold the dogs when you're out walking in town and want to run into a store
to buy coffee or ice cream...

You keep eating even after finding a dog hair in your pasta.

You have *two* dog doors between the house and the fenced yard, so the
doggies can run circles, half inside, half outside.

You have 32 different names for your dog. Most make no sense, but the dog
understands them all.

You have a bad day and decide that your dog is the best "person" to talk it
over with.

You can't see out the passenger side of the windshield because there are
nose-prints all over the inside.

You carry dog biscuits in your purse or pocket at all times.

You carry pictures of your dog in your wallet instead of pictures of your
parents, siblings, significant other, or anyone else remotely human.

You carry plastic "pick-up" bags and an extra kennel lead in your purse,
pocket, and car at all times.


I actually even forget to take doggy treats out of my pockets after training, so whenever I pull out a $5 note at the milk bar or my phone, several lumps of slightly green and furry cheese and something that once resembled liver fall out, along with the 'poo bag'.

And yes. I keep spare leads in my car, D's car, at my mothers, and next to the bed in case there's a fire and we need to escape quickly.

Puppy Play Date

Phoenix, Sahara, Bruza, Maccas, Kaos, Mayhem, Kai, Jack & Xander (and some random Labs) get their beach on yesterday evening...