Pictures Of Me, Part Two

A few of Mom's favorite pictures of me!

Pictures Of Me

My Mom has a bulletin board at work upon which she recently tacked new pictures of us.

A little back story on my Mom. She is believes in fairness above all things. I know at Christmas, the other dogs and I will have exactly the same number of treats in our stocking. So will my kids. Mom will count out their candy and make a chart to keep all gifts even.

Don't even get me started on Easter and jelly beans!

She counts the pictures she hangs on our fridge to make sure she has the same number of our kids, the same for the nephews, the same for us dogs.

So it came as a shock, a huge shock when I heard that I have Five Pictures hanging on her bulletin board! Five! The kids have three each, Sarah Beagle has three and Olive Badger has two.

But I have Five!

I guess Mom does have a favorite!

She says it's just that I am very photogenic and have the best pictures to choose from, and it was a fluke. She didn't think about it until she stepped back and looked at her collage.

Hmm. I guess we'll go with that story, so as to not hurt any one's feelings, but I know. I'm her favorite!

What Are You Dreaming Of, Dad?

What are you dreaming of, Dad? When your legs are twitching back and forth, when your arms flutter under the covers?

Is it like when I dream? And I'm chasing squirrels and cats and the other two dogs?

Or are you a ninja fighting zombies?

I'm leaning towards the zombie dream. That seems like something that you would dream.

After all, I'm not sure you can fully appreciate the awesomeness of chasing squirrels and cats and the other dogs. I have seen some of your zombie movies and I have to agree with Mom on some things. First, I am too young for all that scary violence. Second, it's pretty gruesome. Third, that is probably why you have nightmares.

It could also be due to late night snacking. That bowl of old valentine hearts seemed to have a lot of visits from you....

Either way, you should listen to Mom a bit more, Dad. After all, she's usually right about all things, including how best for her to have undisturbed sleep!

Fierce VS Cute

Being Fierce or being Cute....which is better?

My Dad was petting me, giving me lots of loves, making me feel like the number one dog in this three dog house, when he said, "Emma, you sure are cute!"

Cute? I'm so sure! I'm totally Fierce, Dad. Fierce!

I may have silky soft ears, and beautiful brown eyes, and a shiny coat to die for, and that may add up to cute, but I'd rather be known as fierce.

I'm a warrior dog, racing out the door, baying to the moon, nose on a scent.

Huh? I'm so cute when I do those things?

I guess I'll always be a cute dog to my Dad, but I can still be fierce to strangers who walk by my house.

....And I Got Wet

What we have here is a situation, dear readers. It's a battle, the start of a war, and I am as determined to win as my Mom is.

Of course, at the end of the second skirmish she was dry. Me, not so much.

Apparently Mom and Dad and I guess the whole neighborhood and every person who walks by our house thinks we three dogs bark too much. At first it was fun. Mom called us the Barking Beagle Brigade and no one minded.

I will admit though, we've gotten a bit loud. We bark in the house. We bark outside. We bark in our crates at night and we bark in the mornings when the door is closed and we want out.

We like to bark.

A lot.

Mom said last night that it was too much and we were going to have to stop. I ignored her until she turned on the hose. That means she is serious and the girls and I retreated. But later, much later, past the time when we are allowed to bark outside because politeness at such an hour calls for quiet, we begged to go out one more time and as soon as we were out, we started barking. Mom tried calling us in, but we willfully ignored her.

I know. Not my most obedient moment. I regret it now, but last night, the call was upon us. Something had walked through our yard and we had to follow the scent and let it know we are dogs that do not like to be trespassed against.

Neither does Mom. I thought we were safe, in the way back corner of the yard, far away from the dreadful hose. What I hadn't counted on was Mom getting a giant glass of water and bringing it out to douse us with.

.....And I got wet. We all got wet. We ran inside and gave Mom looks of disappointment. She knows we don't like to be wet. She knows we like to bark.

But she says enough is enough. I'm not sure I agree. In fact, I quite don't. The battle is on!

Or at least, on when she's not home. She's deadly accurate with a cup of water.

That's My Side Of Mom!

I am a creature of habit. I like to do some things the same way over and over and over.

One of those things is at 5:30 in the morning, when Dad let us out of our crates, we all run to Mom and Dad's room because Mom is still going to be half asleep for 20 more minutes. That's 20 minutes of snuggling under the covers with her.

I am always on her left side. Always. If Dad is in bed, then I'm between the two of them, because Mom's left is MY side.

This morning Olive Badger was in my spot! I know it's not exactly Mom's fault. She usually won't let Olive lie there, she keeps the left side open and waiting for me. But this morning, I got up on the bed to find Olive in my spot and Mom trying to move her.

The funny thing about Olive is that she maybe the smallest of us, but when she doesn't want to do something, she is the hardest to move!

But finally, she was on the right side of Mom, the Olive side, and I got my side back.

Smelled like Olive though. It was almost too much for me to bear.

Then Mom patted my back and I flopped down with a sigh. It might smell a bit like Olive Badger, but I can deal with it if it means I can be with Mom.

On the left side. Stay out of my place, Olive!