It's a sock, it's a squeaky toy, it's...

SuperPoodle!!

Sometimes humans have crazy ideas, but there is one that has recently come to my attention that I find rather enjoyable. This would be Halloween. Put on a costume that only serves to increase my already ginourmous adorability, and spend the night gallavanting around, eating candy? Yes, please! I attended a very fashionable, hip party dressed as "SuperPoodle." Winston was my trusty sidekick, but I made him a cape just like mine so he would think we were equally super. I must say, the underoos were quite cozy--if anyone's thinking of an early Hannukah present, Winston and I both wear size 2T-4T.

Atonement

Greetings on this Yom Kippur day. First, you should know that I'm finally not a bastard child anymore--Mom and Mama got hitched, and I feel like my new standing as a puppy-in-wedlock has given me a new sense of responsibility. Therefore, I am going to devote this posting to atoning for the few, itty-bitty, nearly insignificant sins I have committed this past year.






Martha and Jim: I'm sorry for peeing on your bed. I got WAY too excited about the golf balls.

Mama: I'm sorry I chewed up your Spiderman glasses. They looked kind of like candy. Boy, was that a mistake.

Mom: I'm sorry I can't stop sticking my head inside your work bag. It's so cozy in there, and there are sometimes snacks!

Grandma Focarazzo: I'm sorry I ate your plants. And dug one up. And got dirt all over the carpet.

Winston: I'm sorry I stole your monkey and chewed off one of the arms.

Mom: I'm sorry I got caught in the bathtub for the 1,000th time. I'm trying to stop, but I think I might be addicted to bath water. Plus, Dove doesn't taste too bad, especially the green kind.

Mama: I'm sorry I peed on you when I got home from camp. I was SO happy to see you that I kind of lost it.

Jen: I'm sorry I chewed your knitting pattern. Maybe it can be like an extra-super-challenge now.

Colleen and Becky: I'm sorry I pooped in your hallway when I was sleeping over. I'm even sorrier I tried to make you think it was Winston.

Winston: Sorry I tried to make you take the rap for the poop in the hallway.

Mom: I'm sorry for running away from the bus. I thought I could drag you out of the way, but you just didn't hold on tight enough. Next time, I'll just bark like crazy.

Hanna: I'm sorry I wouldn't share my stick with you at the park. I'm older (in dog years, anyway), and I should have been more mature. Next time we play, I'll let you win.

Mean old man neighbor: I'm sorry I mistook you for someone who has a heart. Clearly you are not a friend of the canines, and I won't try to share the love again.

Kelly the groomer: I'm sorry I may have acted a bit grumpy that one time. It was not so long after my "operation" and I wasn't in the best of moods. You're really an ok person, and I hope you'll be my stylist forever and ever.

Ben D.: I'm sorry for not reading your vibes right when I first met you. You rock--I'd share my toys with you any day.

To everyone who's ever stayed at our house: I'm sorry for stealing your socks. I've acknowledged my problem, which is the first step to recovery.

Anyhow, I'm sure there are more, but the fasting has gotten me a bit light-headed, and it's hard to focus on the screen. So, happy atoning everyone, and let's hope Mom and Mama will let me have something other than kibble for break fast!

Me, me, me

It seems that you, the people, just can't get enough of me, the Oliver. So, here are some more pictures to help get you through your Tuesday...

Eh, Fuggedaboudit.

I'm not coming out until that vacuum cleaner is in the next zip code.

Winnie, go easy on the Pepsi!

No, no, a little to the left, get the waterfall in the background, it makes me look sporty.

Toby, a novel, by Jack Schaffer

I almost forgot to give you an update on my new friend, Toby. As a sign of friendship, I MAY have sent Toby a giant crab with claws that squeak (I tested them myself). I heard back from Toby that he found the crab even tastier than poop, which says a lot. Here are some prize pics of Toby and the crab.

Oliver: Olympic Hopeful?

It's official, I'm in training for the Olympics. My event is the creek swim. After all my dry-land practice in the hallway, it turns out I'm an excellent swimmer. I discovered this one day when it was very hot out, and Mom and I were walking in the park. As you may know, summers in our nation's capital can be downright steamy, so as we passed by the creek it was ever-so-tempting. I convinced Mom that we should just dip our toes in, but then we both had so much fun that we ended up splashing around in the cool water. In some parts, the creek is deep enough for me to swim in (there are some benefits to only being 2 feet tall). Here I am doing my patented doggie-paddle-butt-float:
Anyhow, this was all practice for the big event. This past weekend, we were happily driving around in the mountains near Shenandoah, VA, when something crazy happened, and we all ended up on a river in these giant inflatable toys! Luckily, I had my canine personal flotation device with me (You know what I and Longfellow the Water Safety Whale always say, "Don't just pack it, wear your jacket!"). Mom and Mama didn't seem too concerned about the whole thing, but I was determined to pull us all to shore. I swam with all my might for 3 miles down the Shenandoah River until I finally managed to get us to dry land. Unfortunately, there aren't any photos of my heroic feats, because Mama left her camera at home after the canoe-in-the-Erie-canal incident. I paddled for what seemed like hours, stopping only to rest in Mom's giant inflatable toy and eat river weeds. Eventually, we were on the river so long that the sun started to set and I knew if I didn't get us to safety soon, hypothermia would set in. I felt like I was in a Reader's Digest story, where everything starts out fine and dandy on a sunny summer day, and then in the blink of an eye, it all turns tragic.

Ok, so there wasn't really any tragedy. But I did pull everyone to safety, and we dried off and found the car and made it home and then I slept all day Sunday to recharge and reflect on my role as protector of this family. In any case, all the ladies we saw on the river swooned over me in my PFD, so I'll have to model it at home and take some pictures for you.

In other news, I have finally figured out the whole car thing. Basically, only good things happen when I get in the car. I either go to visit one of my grandparents or Aunt Martha or my buddy Winston or to the dog park, or I go to the Easy Cheese store. The car is the portal to all things tasty and fun. There is only one problem, I think you'll agree, and that is that my chariot is much too plain and boring for a fashionista like myself. Here I am, nonetheless, trying my best to rock the Honda Element:
As you can see, it lacks something...leopard print seat covers, perhaps? Well, I'd better get back to redecorating the crate (faux shearling is SO out this season). Toodles!

Funny Humans

Every once in a while, some humans come along who are so clever and funny that I must tell the world about them. These are my pals Bevan and Venessa, and they are funnier than Mom's hair first thing in the morning (and that's saying something.) I command you to watch their music video, but I have first dibs on auditioning to be a backup dancer for their next performance.

World, meet Toby. Toby, meet Cyberspace!

Dear readers,
It is with great joy and excitement that I introduce you to my future best friend, Toby. Toby lives in California with Mom's friend Ilana. Ilana happens to be one of my biggest fans, dog-lover that she is, so I totally approve of her as a human companion for a canine like Toby. I haven't met Toby yet, but he seems like a swell guy who deserves the best.
The language of humans can sometimes be hard to understand, so, to help you communicate with your humans, I've defined some key phrases for you: (I can't help it, my mom's a linguist!)

"No" = You cute thing, do that again!
"What are you eating?" = I'm so glad you've chosen such a healthy snack.
"Give that back/That's not yours/Drop it/Stop, canine thief!" = What's mine is yours, my
four-legged friend.
"What the *beep* did you do?" = Your creativity at entertaining me continues to amaze.
"Time for a bath." = Run.
"[Name of food] is not for doggies" = Would you like a second helping?
"I'm going to sell you to the glue factory" = You have me wrapped so tight around your pinky finger that you could do anything and I'd still love you.
"We're going to see that nice vet lady." = Time for Easy Cheese!

And my one big piece of advice: If you're going to do something that you think your humans won't be too happy about (hey, we all have our moments), just wait til they're not watching. It will save everyone a lot of grief in the long run.

So, Toby, I hope you're having fun in your new home, and that we get to sniff each other's butts in person soon!

Love,
Your BFF, Oliver

Buffaloes are just big, ugly dogs

I've returned from my great adventure to western New York, and I have to tell you, I wouldn't mind hanging out there again. The weather was lovely, a nice break from the humidity in our nation's capital (I am covered in black fur, as you'll recall). The company was also lovely--my Aunt Martha and best buddy Jim seem willing to let me do as I please (still sorry about the whole peeing on the bed thing!). They also have wall-to-wall carpeting (MUCH better for running around than wood floors), and there seem to be toys in every nook and cranny. So, I spent the weekend fetching Jim's golf balls, playing guitar hero, grilling out, and just relaxing. Plus, Martha and Jim have easily twice as many flip flops as we do at home, and you know how I like a good, chewy flip flop.

Now, I would send you a picture of me kicking back with a nice cold beer, waiting for the burgers to grill, but I can't. Why, you ask? Well, that would be because I made the monumentally stupid mistake of lending my camera to Mama. She and Mom and Martha and Jim were all going "kayaking" and "canoeing." I had never heard of either of those things, but it sounded kind of like "cleaning," which is really boring, and not at all risky for a camera. Anyhow, they got back later that afternoon, WITHOUT MY CAMERA! Apparently, kayaking and canoeing are things you do in the water, there was some sort of water fight incident, and my camera had taken a little dip in the Erie Canal. Unacceptable. I mean, how dumb can you be? This is highly sensitive digital equipment we're talking about--unlike yours truly, cameras do NOT like to go swimming! So, long story short, I seem to have not only lost my pictures from the beginning of the trip, but now I have no way of recording my experiences. You, the readers, are the real losers, because you won't get to see any more of my handsome visage until Mama replaces my camera.

ANYWAY, we all have to let go sometimes in life and move on. Hopefully, I can salvage pictures of Winston and I swimming in the creek near our house. Winston came and slept over one night while his moms were away, and we had a great time. It was so hot that Mom and Mama took us swimming to cool off. Basically, Winston is like the Xander to my Buffy. He came in and swam eventually, but the whole time he kept saying, "Ollie, I'm not so sure this is a good idea...The water could be dangerous...Are you sure you know how to swim...blah, blah, blah" He's a good guy, but sometimes he's a bit of a weenie. I miss you, Win--stop by to play sometime soon.

My Idol

I forgot that I wanted to share with you my favorite television program. I've seen it several times recently, and it stars a fantastically talented canine named Dolce. Hollywood scouts, take notice, I'm available, and I could SOOO do this!

Ollie Strikes Back

Well, it has been many moons, but fear not, dear readers, I have been thinking of you! I am freed of the evil cone hat, finally, and am back to my old antics, and some new ones. First, here are a few pictures of the cone days...

Here is me with my friend, Justin, the only one in the house who could begin to understand what I was going through...

That was the first day after my surgery, before my moms figured out that I could still get at my stitches, even with the cone on. They tried a bigger cone, but it was so big it fell off my head! So, Mama came up with this "cone extension"...

For the first couple days I just pretty much lied around and made them feel sorry for me. Then, I realized I could use the cone as a tool. I started using it to scoop up all manner of objects, and it was also good to do headstands on!

Anyhow, I'm now feeling much better, so on to more important things. I've realized lately that there have been some parts of my house that I've really left unexplored. For example, I always thought that the bedroom closet was merely a place to steal socks and other dirty laundry from. Nay nay! I spent some quality time in there last night, (Mom and Mama thought I was lost), and there are all sorts of fun things--flip flops, hiking boots, stockings, even a life size ET doll! Another fun area is the bathtub. Now, I know, I've talked about the bathtub before, but I'd never really just hopped in there while it was unoccupied. It's nice and cool in there, it has snacks like soap and shaving cream, and sometimes leftover bath water.

Let's see, what else has happened since my surgery...

• I bit my tongue while playing with my buddies and had to be taken to the vet
• I spent a few days at Grandma and Grandpa's in Delaware while the air conditioning in our house was broken
• I went on my first hike in the mountains
• I got attacked by two crazed Dobermans in the park

Plus, I can add the following items to the list of things I've tried to consume:

• Kitchen timer
• Sharpie marker
• Blue cake frosting
• a CD
• three different types of keychains
• dandelions
• Mom's hibiscus tree
• watering can
• bottle cap
• Wii remote
• bathing suit
• a moth
• tape dispenser
• bar of soap
• shampoo bottle
• ladies disposable razor

Of all the things on the list, I think I'd only go back for seconds of the blue frosting and maybe the hibiscus tree. Although, the soap was kind of tasty--I'm not sure why washing your mouth out with soap would be a punishment.

In any case, I'm sorry for my prolonged absence, and I assure you that it will not be so long until you hear about my next adventures. I'm about to take a trip to Buffalo, and I'm sure there will be many good stories to tell.

Life is like a box of milkbones...

Dear Readers, the drama continues. First, our run-in with the bus. Then, last weekend, I attended my first Festivus. Then, just yesterday, my manhood was seriously violated. First, a few words about Festivus.

Ok, well, two words for starters: Hot Dogs. Contrary to the name, hot dogs do not contain any actual dog. I enjoy delicious foods, but I am no cannibal. Festivus, from what I can tell, is a two day affair that should adopt the motto: Consume mass quantities. Happily, the motto applies to canine Festivans as well as humans. So, I spent the weekend as a celebrity, because all my cousins wanted to hear the story of my adventure with the school bus, and how I was a hero, plus, I got to sample a number of traditional Festivus delicacies like hot dogs and meatballs. Some of my cousins can get a little rowdy, but never fear, I kept them in line. Plus, my new friend Jim was there, and we had a great time discussing llamas, though I'm not sure why he didn't bring his football--don't forget that next time, Jim, I need to work on my spiral!

After all the excitement, I came home and slept for a few days. I was just starting to feel back to my old self, when I woke up yesterday morning, and instead of leaving me to work on my blog alone at home, like usual, Mom and Mama loaded me in the car and we went for a drive. Turns out, the drive ended at the vet, a.k.a. Ollie's Easy Cheese Tasting Room. Anyhow, they were nice enough, but then, Mom and Mama left me there! I don't know what they were thinking, why they would leave a place with so much free cheese, but there I was, all by my lonesome.

I can't describe what happened to me next, as this is a family blog. Let's just say, I fell asleep, and when I woke up, I found that some very important parts of my manhood were shaved bare, and still others were missing. I mean, completely GONE. And the drugging, oh, all I can say is that it felt like I got run over by a bus! All I could do is lie down and whine in my most pathetic manner. I even had a cone on my head, so that I could only partially inspect the areas in question. I think I'll pull through, and Mom and Mama have been very kind to me, and are nursing me back to health. I have a theory, though: I think that evil vet may be building a kind of Frankenstein super-dog, and so she decided to steal the best parts from each of her clients. So, of course, she chose me for the pivotal man-parts. I'm not quite sure whether to feel honored or violated.

I'm feeling a bit weak, so I'd better sign off for now, and put on my ultra pathetic face and hope for some hot dogs. When I'm feeling stronger, I'll post some pictures of my new headgear. Until then, if your humans try to take you to the vet and then leave--run, run for the door!

Some who wander ARE lost...

The story you are about to read is true. No names have been changed, because everyone is innocent, including yours truly. Please be advised that the story has a happy ending.

Here's how it began...

Mom and I got up Wednesday morning for our daily constitutional. The day was cloudy, but not cold or rainy, and all the spring smells were in full swing. We were doing our usual loop around the neighborhood, and we came to an intersection, to cross the street heading back home. Mom always makes me walk in the crosswalks, something about me being "unpredictable," and this day was no exception. So, as we started out across the street, I was quite surprised to see a yellow school bus heading in our direction. I expected it to stop, but when I realized that wasn't going to happen, I pulled with all my 14 pounds of might on the leash, to drag Mom away from the bus. It was enough to keep her out in front of the bus, but not enough to keep the bus from hitting her and knocking her over. She dropped the leash, and I ran as fast as I could to try and find help. I looked back to see a bunch of neighbors on their phones, and taking care of Mom, but I knew I had to go find Mama.

I ran and ran, through the woods and across a raging river, and in a few minutes, I found (what I thought was) our building. I thought, in a few minutes Mama will realize we've been gone a long time on our walk, and will come out looking for us. She'll see me waiting outside, and I'll take her back to where Mom is. Well, I waited and waited and waited for hours. I was lying on the pavement next to the building when someone tried to come up to me. I may have told them a little too gruffly to leave me alone, that I was waiting for my Mama, and it was an emergency. They kept their distance, but they didn't go away. They brought me some water, and just watched me for a while. Then they made some phone calls. After a while, a car pulled up, and it looked kind of familiar. I backed up, thinking it might be someone trying to take me away from my post, but then I took a whiff--Mom! and Mama! But...how...huh??

I was curious why we were leaving the building, but I was too happy to see Mom and Mama to worry about it right then. I gave Mom a full sniff-down, and decided that she was bruised and bandaged in some places, but nothing seemed missing or broken. We took a short car ride and then pulled into another building that looked just like the one I was waiting at. Turns out there is another building in Takoma Park that looks just like ours, and I had spent nearly seven hours waiting at the wrong building! I was still a little shaken up from the morning's events, and tired from running all that way, but Grandpa was there when we got back, and boy, was he happy to see me!

Anyway, back at the house, they explained everything to me. Mom got hit by the school bus, and called Mama to come help her while some nice neighbors called an ambulance and the police, and made sure she was ok. They rode to the hospital together, where the doctors and police proclaimed it a miracle that she wasn't seriously hurt. Meanwhile, they called everyone to let them know they were ok, but that I was missing. Grandpa couldn't sit still knowing I was roaming about the People's Republic, so he headed down here to help look for me. Mom went home to rest, and Mama and Grandpa went out to put up signs--look, I'm famous:
Then they drove around, asking neighbors, tromping through the woods, and generally panicking. Eventually, Mom got a call from the Takoma Park City Gardener, who is actually a very nice guy, and I wish I hadn't growled at him. Mike, if you're out there, I send my sincere apologies, and I'd be happy to chew up your socks any day. He said he'd been watching me for a long time, and that he called a co-worker who he thought might know what to do, and it turns out she had been eating her lunch in the park, and had seen the sign with my handsome visage. They decided it must be me, and called Mom.

It was a joyous reunion, as I said, and I would have written about all this sooner, but I've spent a lot of time sleeping off the trauma of it all. So, that's the whole story, uncensored. Now, I must be going to get my evening belly rub--let me tell you, there's nothing like getting lost and found to get your moms to do anything you want!

Don't try this at home

How many of you have seen that guy the Dog Whisperer rollerblading with his dogs on TV? How many of you have heard the disclaimer at the beginning of the show that says not to attempt any of his techniques without consulting a professional? It appears that Mom missed that little snippet of advice.

Caution: Reader Discretion is Advised
The following blog post contains graphic descriptions of physical injuries, including dangerous situations, blood, and gore, that may be unsuitable for some readers.

It was your average Saturday afternoon, I'd spent the morning napping, doing some doga on the balcony, chasing the swiffer, nothing out of the ordinary. Mom and Mama went out to run some errands, and then came back for my mid-day walk. While I was stretching and getting ready, I saw Mom putting on a bunch of funny pads and a helmet--she looked like a gladiator (the American variety, not the Roman), but I was polite and didn't say anything, because I didn't want to hurt her feelings. She isn't the most graceful, and I thought maybe she finally wised up and wanted to protect herself while doing dangerous activities like walking. Anyhow, she put on a backpack, and we headed to the park.

When we got to the path, Mom sat down on a big rock, and started taking her shoes off. I got really excited because I thought maybe I'd get to snag one to carry around and snack on during the walk, but she put them back in the backpack. Then she pulled out a pair of rollerblades from the backpack--I have NO idea where these things came from, but they didn't look like the kind you usually see on blonde, buxom Californians with exposed midriffs in movies from the 90's. No, they were more like hockey skates, and they looked a little chewed up, like that one sandal I got my teeth on a while ago. The one thing I noticed was that, unlike the native to the California beaches, these skates had no brakes. I didn't think much of it, because I was SO excited that Mom would finally be able to walk as fast as I like to walk in the park, which is somewhere between greyhound and cheetah.

So, Mom laced up the skates, grabbed ahold of my leash, stood up, and immediately fell down. I was momentarily disappointed, but before I could figure out what to do next, she was up again, and rolling down the path. I trotted along beside Mom, wondering why we hadn't done this months ago, when I sensed danger. We were going pretty fast, and up ahead was a little bridge over the creek that runs through the park. The path curved pretty sharply on the other side of the bridge, and according to my keen sense of balance and mathematical calculations, I didn't think we'd be able to navigate the turn at such a high speed.

I tried to slow Mom down by dragging my paws and stopping to sniff the grass, but it didn't do any good, she just pulled me along behind her like a rodeo bull dragging a cowboy. That's when I knew we were going down. Sure enough, as we started down the bridge, Mom's feet, skates and all, started flailing wildly, and the next thing I knew, she was on the ground. I ran up to her and assessed the situation. Her breathing was ragged, and there was some blood, but she had a strong pulse, and her pupils weren't dilated. I jumped up and barked for help, but I was still tethered to the leash, so I couldn't run home to Mama. Luckily, Mom had her phone, so we called the house, and Mama came down with the car, and we loaded the injured party into the triage area. After some initial bandaging, we were able to drive home, and get the patient more comfortable.

Mom was fine, aside from some pretty nasty bruises, and she says she's going to practice on her own so that we can try again soon. I'm not holding my breath.

You decide...

Hot tubs, chopped liver, leather furniture...is this what doggie heaven is like?

Dearest readers, there comes a time in every dog's life when he experiences something truly astounding, and the meaning of life itself is revealed to him. I, Oliver, experienced that moment last weekend. I tasted chopped liver.

Now, some back story is required for you to understand how it came about that I tasted this nectar of the gods. First, you know I had been preparing for Passover for quite some time. All my cousins were going to be there, and I wanted to be at my best. It was a beautiful spring day, and while we were waiting for my cousins to arrive, Mom and I went out on Grandma's back deck. Grandma's house, and, subsequently, deck, are pretty small, and most of the space is taken up by what I had previously believed to be some sort of special tanning bed. It is, in fact, a giant hole in the deck! Of course, I investigated further...Mom had her feet in the hole, so it couldn't be too dangerous...

I walked all the way around the hole, several times. I sniffed it, I stuck my paw in it, I licked it, and I could find nothing objectionable about it, but, neither did I find it particularly interesting. I sat down next to Mom to get some sun and have a little snooze, but that didn't last long. Three of my standard Poodle cousins came barreling through the back door and onto the deck. As long as there are no steak bones involved, they are a fairly gregarious bunch, albeit quite large, and so began the requisite butt-sniffing and frolicking. Then, before I knew it, I was lost in the shuffle, and I lost my balance and went head over paws RIGHT INTO THE HOLE!

Well, I must tell you, I'd never felt anything quite like this before. It was kind of like getting a bath, only the water was hot and bubbly, and it wasn't just spraying on me, it was surrounding me. For a moment, I panicked, but then almost as quickly as I fell in, Mom was scooping me out. Grandma jumped up and got some towels, and everyone made a big fuss, which I enjoyed. Can you blame them, look at me...

So, you ask, what does all this have to do with chopped liver? Well, I looked so pathetic and everyone felt so bad for me after I got pushed into the hole, that they all started sneaking me little smackerels of chopped liver from the table. You might think that one little lick of liver isn't such a big deal, but when there are a dozen people who are all feeling sorry for you, that's quite a snack!

All in all, it was a most exhausting day. After my cousins left, and everyone else was hanging out in the hole, I snatched a prime spot on the couch to sleep off my liver overdose. Thank goodness Passover only comes once a year!

While I was out...

Have you ever seen that decorating show where someone thinks they are going away to visit their sister or something, but really while they're gone an interior designer and a carpenter and a TV crew show up at their house to help their totally clueless significant other redecorate their room? Oh, come on, don't try to tell me you never watch that trash, I know you've seen it. Anyway, IT HAPPENED TO ME!!! Minus the TV cameras--they must have been filming some other show that day. I am not even joking--here's what happened. My chauffeur (Mom) dropped me off at the salon for my grooming appointment. No worries, I'm even cuter than before, except for one unfortunate feature of my new haircut, which I will photograph for you this evening, that makes me bear a startling resemblance to one Mr. Ambrose Burnside.

Anyway, things only started to get exciting when we got home. I walked in the door, and it was the big reveal! My crate was still there (thank goodness!), but everything else was different. All the furniture was moved around, even the carpet I had worked so hard to shred to pieces was gone! At first, I was a little taken aback. Where were all my toys? Would I still have a runway to use for my Risky Business moves? How could Mom and Mama do this without consulting me, the fashion expert?

Then, I calmed down, examined the whole room, gave everything a sniff-down, and ascertained the location of all my toys. Everything was present and accounted for, and the move even made my runway a teeny bit longer for extra sliding distance. Indeed, I had even more floor space around my crate, and to make me feel at home, the moms had gotten me a replacement toy for my dear departed lamb. (Oh, yes, just as the Freds have left us, so the beloved lamb, which I had slept with every night since my arrival in the People's Republic, went on to wherever good toys go when they die.) This toy says, "Toughies" on it, "Tough rating-7 out of 10," (one being as flimsy as a sock, 10 being as indestructible as the side of the bathtub) but I don't want to get my hopes up that it will last for very long.

In any case, everything was fine, and we even got to stop at the dog park, where I met a Beagle named Edgar who is the only dog I've met who comes close to matching my keep-away skills. Edgar, if you're out there, you're da bomb. I'll meet you at the park this Saturday morning. And bring your own stick, you mooch!

Now, I must turn my attentions to preparing for the Passover feast at Grandmas. My cousin, Winston, is technically the youngest, and says he's going to do it, but I'm going to prepare for the four questions just in case he can't put his matzo where his mouth is. I'm also planning a dramatic recitation of Dayenu, complete with costumes, props and choreography by yours truly. If only I had been given one sock to chew...Dayenu!...

Walden Three

Recently, I have been frequenting a place called the dog park. It is a wonderful and fascinating place, sort of a social experiment in dog and human interactions. I like visiting the dog park for several reasons:
A) The dog park is full of humans who appreciate dogs, and, in particular, appreciate my dapper good looks. I tend to get a lot of attention, if I do say so myself.
B) There is unlimited water at the dog park. It is all over in plastic bottles, giant metal bowls big enough for me to stand inside (don't try that at home!), and coming out of a hose.
C) There are lots of toys and sticks at the dog park that belong to no one in particular. I approach these items with the mindset that they all belong to me.
D) There are lots of big dogs at the dog park. You might think this would be a problem, but in reality, it is excellent. Big dogs are not always the brightest. All it takes to get a big dog to chase you is to run up to it with a stick, shake the stick in its face, and run away. They'll chase me every time, sometimes for hours. This pleases me.
E) What happens in the dog park stays in the dog park. Let's just say I tend to be what they call a "big man on campus." I'm sorry I can't tell you more, but that would totally defeat the purpose of point E. You'll just have to come with me sometime and see for yourself.

Here are some action shots taken by Aunt Martha at the dog park:

Me: Is it dead?
Pug: I don't know, dude. Touch it and find out.
Me: Have you gone mad? I don't touch dead things. You touch it. Pug: No way, man! Me: Let's get that dim-witted Retriever to do it. Pug: Good idea.

"Fake right, break left!"

Hello? Are you in there?

Alright, after the Freds, I just felt a little down, and I didn't want you all to be sitting there, in front of your computer screens, while you're supposed to be working or paying your bills or e-mailing your mother, and feeling really depressed about the loss of the Freds. Don't feel too sad for me, it's really not all that bad. I mean, it's not the same as a Fred, but I still have my chili pepper, remote control, lamb, hamburger, human-shaped blob, and socks. So, buck up, it's almost Friday! As a happy Friday present to you all, I've put a new picture in my profile. Mom caught this shot as Mama and I came in from a walk--I needed a new pencil for taking notes when I can't get to the computer, so I picked one up while we were out. On our next walk, I'm going to try shopping for a webcam.

Elegy on a Fred

Dear, dear readers, today is a very dark day in my life. Today, the last of my Freds is dead. All my Freds were loyal, loving, and always smiling. They enriched my life in immeasurable ways. For a while, Mama was suturing up my Freds when they were injured, but eventually it was too much to keep up with, and I had to put them out of their misery. Here's a photo of me and SuperFred in happier times...So, first SuperFred, who was a Puppy Kindergarten graduation gift from Mama, and had two open-fluff surgeries, finally succumbed. Then, just tonight, the original Fred, the first Fred I ever had, given to me as a Festivus gift from my best pal Winston, sang his swan song. Mom captured the drama of the moment...
Yes, that's Fred's guts spilled out all over the couch. It wasn't pretty, but I'm glad I was there for his final moments.

The problem now is that I've always had a backup Fred, so when one couldn't hang on any longer, another was waiting in the wings. I'm not sure what I'll do now, it will be a long and lonely night...

Who wears the pants in this family?

Readers, something very frightening happened to me last night, and I wanted to share it with you right away in the hopes of possibly saving you future trauma. We got home from an Easter visit to Grandma and Grandpa's, and after a late dinner, I was napping on the living room floor, minding my own business. Mama was on the couch trying to fix her computer (silly PC users!), and Mom was unpacking in the bedroom. Now, when I say I was "napping," I mean that, as usual, I may have had my eyes closed, but I was certainly aware of my surroundings. I take my responsibility for observing and documenting the goings-on of the household very seriously, and I NEVER sleep on the job. So, when I saw a very strange being walk into the living room, I knew immediately that something was wrong.

This person had not entered through the front door, where normal immigration procedures apply (ie, greeting, sniffing, jumping, licking, etc.), it had simply appeared as if it came from the bedroom, but I was sure that my moms and I were alone. Stranger still, the person was wearing something very, very disturbing. It was sort of like those lampshades that I see some dogs at the vet wearing, but over its legs instead of on its head. I figured this bizarre dress and furtive entry could only mean trouble. I went straight into intruder mode, growling a low, threatening growl, and curling my lip. Then, the creature spoke. She said, "Ollie, what's wrong with you?" I paused, tilted my head to see this intruder better, and took a sniff. She smelled like...Mom! Well, right away I ran over and gave her copious kisses to try to cover up the fact that I had mistaken her for an intruder. Then she and Mama started laughing, which just made me feel stupid. How was I supposed to know that Mom was just trying on a dress she bought while Mama was busy picking out an LCD TV? Mom and Mama are only supposed to wear pants, where you can see both legs, and there is no scary lampshade-like fabric. I know it sounds old-fashioned, but I just don't approve of women these days wearing dresses, especially when you're been around for four months like I have and have never seen them wear one. Mom took the dress off and (thank goodness!) put on some normal sweatpants, and then sat down and explained to me that since the weather is getting warmer, she might sometimes wear the lampshades on her legs, and that I'd have to get used to it. I felt a little better, but I have to tell you, I think it will take years of therapy later on for me to get over the trauma of seeing Mom in a dress.

Max Schmax

Something very disturbing has come to my attention. I owe this to the colleague that Mom was travelling with this week, who is a dog owner herself (Hi Mojo!), as most reasonably intelligent humans are. She sent this link to an article on CNN.com: http://www.cnn.com/2008/LIVING/wayoflife/03/21/dog.blog/index.html

Let me start with the fact that I am appalled that I was not interviewed for this story. Neither was my mentor, Jack. I consider these horrendous oversights on the part of this "Sarah Jio" of CNN. I checked out "Max the Golden Retriever," and I have to say, I wasn't impressed. Who taught this dog English? Has he never read Strunk & White? I suppose this is what we have to expect from a Golden Retriever, but I never expected something so juvenile, base, and--dare I say--boring to show up on national news. I have sent my complaints to CNN, and I will let you know, dear readers, as soon as I hear back from them. As for the rest of you struggling artists out there, keep on writing, and have faith that someday soon, the world will be able to distinguish true literary greatness from amateur drivel. And Mojo, anytime you want to write a guest post, just say the word.

When the Mom's away...

For the last four days, Mama and I have been home alone. The first night when she didn't come home I was so depressed, all I could do was lie on the ground with one of her dirty socks and cry. Mom left us with some flimsy excuse like "business travel," but what kind of business could she possibly have been conducting in Wausau, WI? There aren't even any dogs there! I wasn't too happy about being left behind--I could totally fit in a carry-on!--but I had to pull it together and take care of Mama. We had popcorn and beer for dinner every night, because that's all I know how to cook so far. I've decided it's important I learn some new recipes so that if we're ever on our own again, I can make all sorts of gourmet meals and make Mom jealous.

Anyhow, some good things did come of our time alone (I'll refer to it hereafter as "the dark days"). First, Mama and I got to have some real quality time together. After I got over my depression, we went out cruising together in the "outdoor woods". Mama didn't manage to pick up any ladies, but I sure got lucky with a bunch of sticks and rocks. The other excellent thing is that Mom discovered (while sending us daily photo updates from the road) that the new Mac OS has a new (and WAY improved) version of PhotoBooth. If you have never used one before, you need to find your nearest Mac user immediately and ask them nicely to show you how. It is the most fun you can have besides sock chewing. You can take pictures of yourself with all sorts of effects, sort of like funhouse mirrors, but with the new one, you can superimpose yourself onto different backgrounds.

So, as soon as she got home, Mama and I had a photoshoot...here are two of our best shots...

Just Keep Swimming...Just Keep Swimming....

Wheeeeeeee!

As you can see, this presents endless possibilities for photo entertainment. You can also import any picture into the program, so if you send me a picture of yourself, I can add myself in and post it here, then you can show all your friends and co-workers, and everyone will think you've met the famous Oliver of Oliver Opines in person, and you'll be the most popular kid on the block. Just my little way of giving back.

Poop and Circumstance

It's official, I'm a graduate! On Sunday, I passed my final exam with flying colors and graduated from puppy kindergarten. Luckily, Mama was there to take pictures as I showed I could sit, stay, lie down, come and shake. I also made it through a very challenging obstacle course. The toughest part was the tunnel made of towels. Most of the other puppies in the class were scared of the tunnel part, but I just wanted to play with the towels. Mom kept trying to get me to go through them, but why would you pass up the opportunity to shred a perfectly good towel?? Anyway, it was Mama's first time at puppy class and she was so proud that she got me a graduation gift. I'll post pictures of me with my gift next time--trust me, it can't be explained in words.

So long puppy kindergarten, next stop, Harvard!

UPDATE: Sadly, I had to disembowel the graduation gift before Mom could get a picture of it. It was possessed by a very dangerous, mysterious parasite, and the only way to exercise the demons was to split it open and remove all the stuffing. I hated to see a good toy go to waste like this, but I had no choice, I couldn't let those evil spirits hang around in the house, so I gritted my teeth and did what had to be done. Then I burned the remains, just in case, and buried the ashes under the couch cushions. If you would like to purchase a new one for me, you can find it here: http://www.petsmart.com/product/index.jsp?productId=2755324 (trust me, only the 24-inch is worth it).

Ode to my Mama

So, dear readers, today is a happy day. Not only did I read that Sadie has agreed to go on a date with me (older women can be so sexy!), it is my Mama's birthday. Now, before I even read Jen and Ben's comments to my last post, I had been composing some birthday limericks in honor of my mom (great minds, my friends, great minds...). Here they are, in no particular order...

Mama's Slippers:

Mama's got a new pair of slippers
They smell better than pickled kippers
A scent worth beggin'
Or turning vegan
I'd even go under the clippers.

The one and only Mama:

In my house there's only one Mama
She is more fun than a pet llama
Her feet smell like roses
We like to rub noses
I think she might vote for Obama.

I need you, Mama!

I may just be a small poodle
But I've got a very large noodle
When she is away
I cry and I bray
Life without Mama is brutal.

Happy Birthday, Mama!

Picture backlog

Ok, so for the last couple weeks, I couldn't find the cord to connect my camera to the computer, so I couldn't post any pictures. Well, turns out I had taken it to a secret, undisclosed location for its own protection. But, it's back, and now I can share with you some pictures from the last few weeks...

Me and Winston at Grandma and Grandpa's after a long day of playing.

I always like to stay informed of current events.

Look at how utterly adorable I am! Even Mom can't handle it.

Ok, now I'm bored with this. Are we done here, paparazzi? No more pictures, capische?

My life as a beltway bandit

Earlier this week, I was on my way home from Grandpa's new house (by the way, new carpet is THE BEST!), and we made a stop along the way at Mama's office. It was a Sunday, but she is so important that she had to work. I thought I might see if I could help out, so that she could come home ASAP to make me dinner. I can't help it, I was hungry! Anyway, we went into the office, and it turns out there were a bunch of people there. I checked out everyone's office, just to make sure there were no food scraps or interesting things to chew on the floor--a puppy could get hurt! Those are some lucky employees, let me tell you! I sampled the water there, it flows right out of the refrigerator door, like a magical, life-giving spring. I can't imagine the deep, spiritual thoughts I'd have if I drank that water every day.

In any case, I spoke with some of the employees, and their company was in serious need of some organizational development, as well as diversity training. I mean, they had never even seen a Canine Consultant! So, I taught them how to help me work most efficiently, and sensitized them to some issues canines might face in the workplace. I think it is now a much more accepting environment for workers of all species. I hope I get called to consult again soon.

Sadie Lewis, will you be my puppy-tine?

Dear Sadie,
You seem like a really swell dog. It seems that all the dogs I know are boy dogs, and we really could use some bitches in this neighborhood, if you know what I mean. I can tell that you must be really smart if you know tricks like scooting your butt along the floor. Anyway, I like long walks in the park, sleeping in piles of laundry, and sticking my head in the shower. I'm looking for someone to share my rock collection with.
Will you be my puppy-tine?
Love, Oliver

I should have all my socks taken away...

Dear readers, I beg your forgiveness. It has been many moons since I last wrote to you, my faithful followers. I won't make excuses, but let me just say that there has been a lot going on. First, I've found that this puppy chow my moms are feeding me is really packing on the pounds. Plus, Mom has a new job and is wrenching me from my peaceful slumber even earlier each morning. Therefore, I've started an exercise regimen. In addition to the walk that Mom takes me on, each morning and evening I take a swim down the hallway. How can I swim down the hallway, you might ask...well, if there is anyone out there willing to lend me a video camera, I would happily show you. That way you could use it as an instructional video and you, too, could be swimming down your hallway in no time, no water necessary!

There is an activity I have discovered where water IS necessary, and that is showering. I was always curious about what goes on behind that curtain in the bathroom, and I tried sticking my head in to see what would happen, but I always got turned away. Finally, one day Mama gave in and let me in the shower with her. Warren Eckstein would be proud. Anyway, it turns out the shower is really not all that exciting--I was pretty much ambivalent about my shower experience. It was ok, but not nearly as much fun as rock collecting.

I've also been making lots of new friends here in our nation's capital. I'm still hoping to meet Jack, my mentor, very very soon. I met a lovely golden retriever named Darby who used to live in New Mexico. He gave me a chili pepper he had brought all the way from Albuquerque, which I love. It turns out that chili peppers squeak--this discovery inspired me to do a little experiment to find out what sorts of things squeak when you chew them, and which things don't. Here are the results:

Squeak:
chili peppers
hot dogs
hamburgers
Fred (a very long, dog-like creature)
lambs
Poof (a white fluffy gingerbread-man shaped creature)
Wubbas
cell phones (more of a beep than a squeak, but still enjoyable)
Winston, my poodle puppy buddy

Don't squeak:
bones
socks
shoes
underwear
pants
my collar
my paws
brushes (both human and canine, dental and hair-related)
the vacuum cleaner
the coffee table
rugs
magazines
chairs
pillows
sticks
TV remote control
ice cubes (though they are SO tasty it makes up for the lack of squeak)
rocks
gummy candy shaped like penguins.

I think it would be a great service to dog-kind if people started putting squeakers in these non-squeak items.

I must be off for my evening swim, but hopefully, soon I will post a video of my patented no-water swimming technique.

I feel strangely...naked.

Well, readers, it's been a long day. I slept in until 7, romped about in the white toy (which has gotten very slippery and wet since yesterday), and then my moms and I got in the car and went for a ride. We got out at the shopping mall (aka Petsmart), and went inside, and then paid a visit to some ladies in the salon that we visited last week. Only, I sensed something was awry...last time we visited, Mom came in with me and I sniffed everything, and the ladies there went gaga over me (as usual), and then we bought some toys and left. This time, my moms left me with the ladies! They're nice and all, but I was a little concerned that my moms were leaving me with strangers--how irresponsible. Things only got worse from there. I can't tell you the terrible injustices, violations of personal space, and indignities that occurred--this is a family-friendly blog. Suffice it to say that beauty comes at a price, and in this case, the price was very, very steep. But, I took it like the manly man I am, and I must say, I think I came out looking like quite the dapper gentleman!



So, Mom and Mama came to pick me up, and luckily they had brought the fleece coat that Aunt Martha gave me, because with all my hair gone, I was freezing! Then, we all went to the park, and it turns out the white toy made it all the way to Kensington! We ran around in the snow with a bunch of other dogs, they were all really friendly, and I got LOTS of compliments on my new look. Here we are plotting to attack the white toy together...

After the park, we went home and I had a great nap. Then it was time for some housework. I helped by keeping the laundry warm. This is a very important job. Cold laundry is just unacceptable.
I would love to share more about my busy day, but I fear that I just cannot stay awake any longer. Now I know why all those great writers were addicted to coffee, but Mom and Mama keep theirs in the freezer, which I have yet to figure out how to open. It's just my height, though, so I'm sure it won't be long.
Until I find myself a big cuppa joe, I remain,
Sir Olivier de Takoma Park

Toothfairy leaves dog giant, frozen toy; humans baffled

Yesterday was the best day of my life so far.  The toothfairy came, but she didn't leave a bacon-double-cheeseburger.  Instead, she left a giant, white, fluffy toy that was so big, it covered all the grass in the neighborhood!  This toy is AMAZING!  You can run around in it, eat it, pee on it, and it just keeps coming!  Mama took me for a walk to play with the toy, and I asked her to take my picture by it, because I was so proud that the toothfairy would think I was SOOOO good that I deserved this present.  Anyway, I wonder just how big the toy is, because we walked as far as we could until I got too tired to keep going, and the toy went as far as I could see!  I hope the toy made it all the way to your house, and you're out playing with it too!

How will the toothfairy find my crate?

Dear readers, I have some very exciting news to share.  I lost my first tooth!  The best part was that I really freaked my moms out.  (Author's note: due to reader request, from here on out we shall call the mom who's name is Abbe "Mom" and the mom who's name is Lauren "Mama"--she is part Italian, after all.)  We were playing the game where Mom goes in the bathroom and shuts the door, and then I have to try and push it open.  I love this game, and sometimes I'll even bring presents with me to show Mom how much I like the game.  So, I had the white fuzzy toy that Aunt Martha gave me for Hannukah, and I waited a few minutes, and then made a very dramatic entrance into the bathroom.  I left the toy at Mom's feet as a present, but Mom shrieked, and yelled for Mama to come over.  There was blood all over the toy, it was like doggie Psycho! Mama caught me, and then Mom looked in my mouth and saw that I had lost a tooth.  Apparently this is normal, but no one is sure where the tooth went, which worries me because I am expecting gifts from the toothfairy, at least a hot dog or something, maybe even a bacon-double-cheeseburger if I'm really lucky.   If I don't have the tooth to put under my crate, how will the toothfairy know where to leave the presents?

This is a puppy on drugs...any questions?

Whoa, I just woke up from a big nap, and I must say, I'm feeling a bit sluggish. I suspect foul play, and I think I know what happened. I was at the vet this morning, and everything was going great. Usually I'm the only patient, but there were some big dogs there, probably thugs, loitering in the corner. Of course, I walked in and everyone immediately forgot all about the thugs and recognized me for the star I am. Then, I got up on my throne, was fed some more Easy Cheese by my harem, got a fancy new dog tag that said, "Rabies Vaccine" on it, and headed back home.

Before we went back upstairs, I took mom on a little stroll, so I could show off my new bling. Sure enough, an admirer I'd never met before actually pulled over to the side of the road to proclaim my utter adorableness. Some very rude driver started honking at her to move out of the way, so she had to leave, but clearly my new jewelry was making an impression.

Anyhow, we got back inside, I monitored Mom closely as she made lunch (she needs supervision in the kitchen, always), and then while she ate I sat down to load some pictures onto the computer to post for you, dear readers. Just as I was getting to work, I felt a sudden, debilitating drowsiness come over me. I mean, this was no little snooze, I was out cold! You can see from the picture, I tried really hard to keep my eyes open, but it just wasn't possible.

Even now, I'm writing from the couch because I just can't sit up! So, I was thinking, what on earth could possibly make me so sluggish and not my usual, playful self? Then, it came to me. It was the vet. She must have drugged my Easy Cheese! I could have DIED here, people! I think she is jealous that the harem pays more attention to me than they do to her. Probably, she called in the thugs to sell her drugs to put in the Easy Cheese. Clearly she underestimated me! I can never trust her again, and I'm going to have to figure out where to get my Easy Cheese fix from now on.

In any case, what I was going to tell you before I had my near-death experience is that I'm finally posting a photo of my rock collection. I've arranged them in a Stonehenge-esque display that I think really highlights their unique shapes and textures. I also tried to collect some mixed-media pieces--sticks, leaves, bottle caps, dental floss, etc.--so that I can make it sort of a "found art" project. If you have anything you think is really special, send it on over and I'll see if I can work it in.

Also, yesterday my friend Winston and I started a puppy training class together. We decided it was time to get in shape; after all, we're not getting any younger, and it gets harder and harder to maintain my manly physique. Turns out puppy training class is just full of a bunch of snot-nosed 10-week-olds who haven't even been housebroken...really, it was insulting that I would be placed with these babies. But, resilient, patient guy that I am, I just used the opportunity to pretend that I had not learned anything in the past two months, and got mom to give me a whole bunch of treats for "learning" stuff I mastered weeks ago.

That's about all I can manage for now. I'd better get some more rest so I can make a full recovery from my poisoning. Let this be a lesson to you all...NEVER trust Easy Cheese from the vet!

Lapidary Interests

Since I have gotten so proficient at "eliminating" in the out of doors, I am now able to be more observant of my surroundings while on my jaunts about the neighborhood. I must say, I am fascinated with the biodiversity and natural beauty of the land. You know, these purple mountains majesty, the amber waves of grain, and gravel, oh, glorious gravel! Since I have the advantage of being so close to the ground, I am able to really examine all the types of rocks, pebbles, and jewels that are abundant in the People's Republic. Some of these stones I find so irresistibly beautiful that I am moved to take them back to my crate to study and admire. So far, I have a small collection of gems that I have carried in from my walks, up in the elevator, down the hallway, and into our living room. My moms display them proudly, though I'm not sure what happened to one rock I collected that was such a lovely shade of bright green, with all sorts of crags and craters. I think I heard mom shouting something like, "Is that chewed gum?!" I shall continue to find specimens for my collection, and will post a photo soon.

In any case, I wanted to bring you up to date on a few other developments:

1. I have taken up the ancient holistic art of belching. I believe have a natural talent for belching, I am trying to teach my moms how to belch, but they have not achieved anywhere near the volume I have.
2. I have become something of a cheese gourmand. You see, at the vet, I get something they call "shots." As far as I can tell, this involves my moms making very pathetic faces while the vet stands behind me, watching as I use my expert palate to taste cheese. So far I have tasted two varieties of cheese, "Easy Cheese Cheddar" and "Easy Cheese American." Both are delicious, and they are made by a revolutionary artisan process that allows them to be served out of aerosol cans. Ingenious!

I have been so busy lately, as my mom tells me she's getting a new job, and won't be home with me on Mondays anymore. It's a shame, because Mondays were so good for getting errands and chores done, like cleaning the kitchen floor and dishwasher with my tongue, collecting dustballs that I weave into tapestries for the walls of my crate, monitoring the dog who lives on the other side of the sliding glass patio doors (the dashing fellow looks just like yours truly!), and shredding tissues. My moms sure do have a lot of tissues to shred, especially during cold season, I just don't know how I'll keep up. But, this will leave me with lots of time to blog, so I promise to get some new pictures on soon.