Burpday update...

Thanks so much to all my pawpals for wishing me a wonderful burpday.

It was another great day.

First I brought my mum to our beach at the end of our street...



...then when we got home I was presented with my treats...



...two toys and a great big honkin' bone...



...which of course took priority...



...and is still challenging me.

But I will prevail.

Burp.

Happy birthday to me!

Yep it's my birthday... woohoo!



I'm eight today.



And I can't help thinkin' about all the dogs who aren't as lucky as I am...

...cos I love my furever home.

Waggy licky hugs and butt-sniff kisses to all my paw-pals.

Who says dogs can't fly?

Clicky here and see









...and many more.

North Queensland beach baby circa 1998

Okay, okay, so my body was outgrowing my head at a rate of about five to one there for a while.

And the paws were going every which way.

But the tail always followed.

Blogatherapadog’s couch (iii)

Your human will soon see the wisdom of your ways.

Take little steps, my friend.

Our small victories will tally up, leading to one great one.

Just bide your time.


Please see my human on the way out and leave your payment (kibble will do nicely, thank you).

Blogatherapadog’s couch (ii)

I’m sensing apathy here.

Are you with me on this?

I can help you through it, you know.

Blogatherapadog’s couch

So how does sharing make you feel?

Do you blame your human?

Have you accepted yourself completely, as you are, spots 'n' all?


(Payment in kibble will do nicely, thank you.)

...and the fifth tag-ee

Hmmmph, I couldn't leave a comment on Dusty's blog 'cos it's limited to comments from team members only.

So my fifth tag-ee will be Günter.

I've been tagged! The five weird and wonderful habits of a highly effective blogdog.

I've been tagged by Charlie the Blue Heeler Cross. Thanks Charlie!

I like playing tag, but this is the first time I've played blog-tag.

What happens is this: you play the game and start by listing five weird things/habits about yourself. Then you tag five friends and list their names.

Those blogdoggies who are tagged need to write on their blogs about their five weird things/habits, as well as state this rule clearly, then tag five more 'victims'. And so on.

Don't forget to leave your 'victim' a comment that says "You're tagged!" in their comments and tell them to read your blog.

So here goes with five of my weird and wonderful habits:

1. I can make my mum feel really guilty. If she's going somewhere without me and I'm feeling particularly vulnerable, I'll sit with my back to her as she goes out the door. Just so she knows. And she does. Oh, and I like to eat.

2. I supervise hanging of the clothes on the clothes line. Always. Doesn't matter who's doing the hanging. I just sit there and make sure it all runs smoothly. Did I mention I'm hardly ever fed?

3. I just loooooove going to the beach and fossicking in the seaweed or trotting in the waves. Always good smelly fish-bits to be found.

4. After I get a bath (well, hosed down with stinky shampoo actually) I go absolutely beserk and gallop around the garden. Heaven help anything in my way, human or dog alike. I'm usually hungry at that point too.

5. I love being scratched just down where my tail meets my body. When my mum (or anyone) does this, I arch my head and neck right back (but not enough for it to drop off). Oh by the way, even after dinner I'm always up for a treat.

...and here's a bonus point:

5.5 Sometimes I think I'm a horse. I like to prance, trot, canter and gallop... I don't neigh though. No, I don't do neighs. Then sometimes I think I'm a lap dog, but that doesn't work so well: 30+ kilos of blogdog on average human girl lap just doesn't cut it. Did I mention I'm rather peckish, usually?

Hopefully I didn't break any rules with that 5.5 addition. I have many many more quirks, but I guess they'll have to wait for future posts!

Now, I tag these dudes:

Butchy and Snickers the woolly wire-haired terriers

Kingsley the border collie from Singapore

Beagledom – Daisy & Peanut

Sam I Am the weimaraner and finally (drum-roll)

Dusty from Kansas

Now I'm heading on over to their smelly places to let 'em know.

Chow for now, pets.

Some hot-off-the-press advice:

Never pet your dog when it is on fire.


From the Surrealist Compliment Generator.


Uh huh.

Bombón El Perro: mighty dog. Makes me want to go to acting school

We watched my kind of movie the other evening.

It was called Bombón El Perro, a film by Carlos Sorin from August 2005.

Bombón was an Argentinian Dogo, one of the coolest and biggest lead actors I’ve ever seen.

He managed to look dignified even when slobbering through his jaws (which looked about the size of two of my dinner bowls).

The movie was about a kind and kinda sad human who was always doing good deeds for others and who was given a gift of Bombón in return for a good deed.

Bombón transformed his life (as we do) and it's a nice, poignant story about the two of them.

Bombón was a big boy indeed. I wouldn’t want to cross him. Ever.

He made this point a couple of times in the movie.

Apart from that he was a major sad solemn dude for the entire thing, oh, except at the end there when he had a bit of a fling with a gal and he was laughing all the way home in the truck.

Me. One day. Maybe.

Event planning, then I ain’t invited.

Helllooo everyone, thanks to all of you who dropped by and found… ...well, a post from me to say there’d be no post from me for a while.

I helped mum entertain her nephew Mark and his girlfriend Rachel. Happy mum, cousin and girlfriend.

I oversaw the hanging of washing on the line. And I let them play tug-rope with me. I also made sure I was as waggy and jumpy as usual whenever the visitors were leaving or coming back.

All important stuff.

Lots of sight-seeing and eating out, whale watching at Port Elliott, diving (in 11°C hee hee hee), wine tasting (guzzling, actually) at the Barossa Valley, meeting relations at the Central Markets…

I helped my mum plan the whole thing.

Of course it went without a hitch.

Except.

How come I didn’t get to those vineyards too?

Rockfords. Penfolds. Wolf Blass. Elderton. Jacob’s Creek. Turkey Flat. Bethany.

I probably could’ve put away a few jars, and I bet I'd have found some food too.

I was left minding the house.

Didn’t even get a bowl of vino to accompany the kibble.

Huh, guess I should be grateful I got any nosh at all.

I'm busy busy busy...

...helping my mum look after my human cousin Mark and his girlfriend Rachel who are here on holiday from the northern hemisphere.

I'll post again soon, I promise!