Luke the Wonderdog vs a ball

She's created a monster!

If you look up "Pain in the Ass" in a medical encyclopedia, this is what you'll see....K's dog Luke.

I know, your first reaction is, "He's so cute, all dressed up in his Christmas sweater, posing for his Christmas card center spread."  But I'm tellin' ya, he wakes up at O-dark-thirty every morning, having had 8 hours +/- to think up ways to just pester the hell out of me.

He's an attention whore.  You wanna read or watch something on TV?  Not without his blessing you don't!   If he wants to play or eat or just be stared at for a while, he will hound you (terrier you?) until he gets his way.  He's a whiner.  Dang, he has that little squeal down to a science.  I swear he knows exactly at what pitch my ears start to bleed, and he can hit it like an opera singer every time.  OUCH!  Are all Yorkshire Terriers like that?

I just thought of something:  You think K's trying to kill me?  "Death by Yorkie"?  *hmm....I do have insurance*

When K's home she'll play with him, but if I get home before her I have to take him for a long walk, the goal being to wear him out so he'll sleep and leave me alone.  Never mind that it wears me out, too, and makes ME want to sleep.  

Next time I want one of those kinds of dogs like in the TV commercials, the kind that will bring you a beer from the fridge or hide the remote from the missus so she can't switch over to one of her reality shows.  

That's what I want.  But I probably won't get one.  This one will likely outlive me, out of spite.

But, yeah, I guess he is kinda cute. Dammit!  ;)

S

How I spent my Saturday morning....

Blowing bubbles.  OK, I'll elaborate:

Luke the Wonder Dog needed a bath, and as K had to go to work for a while this morning, I figured, "Fine, I'll give him a bath.  How hard can it be?  He's only 7 pounds."

Once I caught the little bastard the fight was on.  He really doesn't like that shower wand thingy.  Too bad.  The groomer told me that for in-between visits I could bathe him myself using Herbal Essence shampoo on his body and Johnson's Baby Shampoo on his head.  She also said using a soft sponge....not the scrub kind....would make a little shampoo go a long way.  No shit!  Define "little".

Lather....rinse....repeat on the body, no problem.  I got the old soap out of the sponge and opened the new bottle of baby shampoo and squeezed, and....nothing.  I squeezed so hard I thought the bottle might explode.  Still nothing.  Then I realized it must have one of those little removable pieces of plastic on top of the bottle, under the cap.

Ever try to unscrew a smooth plastic top off a bottle of shampoo when you're wet everywhere above the waist and still semi-slimy from the previous shampoo?  I finally got one hand dry enough to unscrew the top and sure enough, there it was.

Next hurdle:  The little piece of plastic had a tiny extension that you're supposed to pull to get it off the bottle.  Tiny, as in maybe 1/16".  I have man-hands and short fingernails.  Needle-nose pliers?  They're in the other room, and remember I'm wet and soapy.  Plan B?

I did what any man would do....I used my teeth.  I bit it and pulled, and I suppose the built-up pressure from my powerful earlier squeeze caused a glob of shampoo the size of a quarter to shoot up into my mouth.  Blech!  Blech!  Spit!  Spit!  I'm trying to tell the dog to just stand there and quit shaking and all I'm doing is blowing bubbles.  I grabbed the shower wand and aimed it at my face, hitting myself and the wall behind me, too.  By now the dog's probably thinking, "And you call me the dumb one?"

An hour later I finally got the dog dried off and the bathroom mopped down.  Then I spent another half hour eating stuff (an Almond Joy) and drinking a Coke, trying to get that soapy taste out of my mouth.  I'm afraid my taste buds are permanently injured.  

I'm gonna write that baby soap company and tell them they ought to give their shampoo a flavor in case this thing ever happens again to some other unsuspecting man.  Like maybe beer, or guacamole.

"How hard can it be?" my ass.

S

Public Enemy #1

Luke, aka "The Lukester",  'lil Buddy, "you little bastard",  PITA, and finally Public Enemy #1.

This is Kelly's dog,  Luke.  Most of the time he and I get along fine, and when we do, I just call him "Luke".  Sometimes we get really chummy and I call him "The Lukester".

He sleeps on his own fluffy blanket at the foot of our bed.  We're careful not to kick him, and we all sleep in peaceful coexistence.

At 4 AM this morning when he woke up and started walking around our bed, he became "'lil Buddy", as in "Go back to sleep 'lil Buddy".  It's not time yet."

When he woke me up AGAIN at 5:18 he became "you little bastard", as in "It's still dark outside.  Go back to sleep you little bastard."

When he was jumping around and whining at 6-something he became PITA, as in "OK, OK, I'll take you outside.  You're a Pain In The Ass, you know that?"

After he peed a thimbleful and chased bugs for a while we went back inside and I tried to go back to sleep, but his incessant whining got me up again.  I closed the bedroom door so at least K could sleep, and I "slept" sitting upright in my big chair while PITA had his breakfast and roamed the house.

Around 7-ish I gave up.  He won.  His whining and "talking" and demand....not "request", but DEMAND....that I play "chase the mouse" with him meant any more sleep this Sunday morning was out of the question.  At that moment of realization, PITA officially became "Public Enemy #1".

He should be appearing on "America's Most Wanted" any week now.

S

Poor Luke....

This morning K is taking her dog Luke to the vet's to have him....er....you know.  Ouch!  I can't even bring myself to say it.  He's a little over 6-months old and he's starting to strut his stuff, lifting his leg to pee, etc.  They say you need to have this done before his full hormones kick in and he starts humping everything he can catch, marking his territory, and such. Actually that would be kinda funny, watching Luke, a tiny little Yorkie, trying to climb on a Great Dane.  Haha!

 K and I had our weekly "date night" last night instead of tonight as usual so we can stay home and take care of the poor little dude.  K made me laugh when she said she first thought having a dog neutered was just giving him a canine vasectomy.  Umm....no my dear, it's a LOT more invasive than that.  I wonder if dogs have enough sense to hold a grudge?  If so, he's not gonna want to have much to do with K for a while.  

Hope we all have a better day than Luke will.  :)

S

Please, say it ain't so!

Did any of you watch the Westminster Kennel Club dog show last night?  It was the final evening of judging and when the big reveal finally came this was declared the grandest dog in all the land:

Really?  Really??  I know, "beauty is in the eye of the beholder" and all that, but Jeez, that thing....it's technically a Pekingese....looks like a prop from a Star Wars movie.  Or maybe something from a Saturday Night Live skit:

Anyone remember Gilda Radner as "Roseanne Roseannadana"?  I think all that hair (on the dog) is to cover the wind-up key.  And to think they passed over some beautiful dogs like a Dalmatian, a Doberman Pinscher, and a regal looking Irish Setter that was my personal favorite.  The sole judge was a lady from Colorado.  I'm guessing she lives on a 14,000 ft high mountain, without oxygen.  Sorta makes K's Yorkie look rugged and manly, don'tcha think?

S

The End Is Near!

The big home we've been building for the past 10 months will be completed this Friday, ready for the new owners to move into on Saturday.  Yesterday I received the C/O (Certificate of Occupancy) from the city, so technically it's finished right now.  We're still doing clean up inside and we have one last coat of polyurethane yet to apply to the wood floors, and THEN it will be 100% to my satisfaction.  So when I say "the end is near", it's really a good thing because it comes with a nice paycheck.  I'll take photos tomorrow morning and have them to share with you here tomorrow evening (if anyone cares).


In other news, K has decided she's ready for another dog.  I had told her she could have whatever she wants, and to my horror she wants a little yappy Yorkie.  *sigh*  Oh well, a deal's a deal.  I'm sure it'll be cute, but a dog that's about the size of a gerbil just doesn't do it for me.  I'll really have to watch where I walk, and sit, too.  Still, having another dog around will bring back a semblance of normalcy to the Lowandslow household.  She hopes to be able to get him next month.  For now she's acting like an expectant mother.  Haha!


Have a great day everyone.  :)


S