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!"