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.