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by Flea

Brown and Sticky

August 18, 2009 in Observations

It's a stick!

What’s brown and sticky? Not what you think! I’d describe the thing that you’re thinking about as brown and icky. The answer? A stick, of course. Crusty nighties! I love a stick. Dad keeps taking them out of my mouth and behiding them around his back. “No Flea! Stop chewing sticks!” I’m all in favor of no sticks, if I have something else yummish to chew on, but sticks are just so omniwhere. Can you imagine if there were gin and tonics lying around omniwhere? Geepees! I’d be like, “No Dad! Stop drinking gin and tonics!”

Seriousness, though, sticks are sexly. Javalilly will frequentimes find a yummish stick and then walk it right by my face like I’m blinding. What a bitch! (and that’s not an insult, humanpeople). Of course I want that stick. But, woaf! She can keep that stick just a skinny bit from my mouth and scamp out of the way when I try to grabble it. After a timeunit of this, I pretend to get borded and give up. I walk off and get humpy with one of the other boys. What does she do then? Drops the fricky stick, of course. I used to think it was a good planet of action, this giving up, but then when she drops the stick, I don’t want it anymuch. I don’t need a shrinkywinkle (cycleollygyst) to figure this out either… if it’s not dangling from Java’s Alabama south-tasty mouth, it’s just a fricky stick. I’ve got some hindlick manouevers in mind for her one day. Oops. Dad’s typing this for me and he just told me “Hey!” That’s not good, if I rememorize right. He’s smiley, though. Conflustering…

O&PS. Dad’s gonna take photopictures of my friends, so you can see about whom I’m talking about, if you’ll excuse the dangling participle… sometimes I get a participle dangling from my butty after eating sticks. I’m told it’s fecally incorrect to mention such stuff, but to quote my dad’s favorite Corinne Bailey Rae* song, “Till it happens to you…”  Youch!

*Dad says she’s a bitch too, but I’m not sure whether he’s speaking dog or not. He gets eye-gooey if I press him about it.

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by Flea

Down!

August 10, 2009 in Training

I know there's a treat in there!

Dad and I had another training session yesterday with Kate, and some other humans with dogs, who I liked mostly. But geepees! This “down” command has been as unnatural as a sudden shower of lamb lung to me. In the beforetime, Dad would look at things on the world-wide internet for computers or something, and then come to me all cheerio with some new planet of making me lie down… there would always be a treat involved, but Dad’s instructions were always so clonflustering that I got quite beside myself trying to understand, and would mostly end up just hopping around, flea-like and barky-nervous, so he would give up the lesson. Thank goodnest!

Anywhich, Kate has figured out how we dogs are thinking, and showed my dad how to trick me into laying down. The technique is mostly about a pointy finger to the ground, with fisty treat hiding. He had to start me off hunting for the fisty treat under his leg, but in an instant pudding, I was doing it with him standing over me, pointing that finger.  I don’t mind laying down, really… I sometimes do it for hours at a time with my eyes closed even… but sometime’s it’s good to grab a playful bite of finger just before my butty hits the floor. Dad might have to get Kate to explain why I do that. Like, darf!