Smelly 2009, y'all

Reluctant Santa Doooog ...

... wishes all my bloggedy pawpals ...

... a howlingly good year, full of bones, tummy rubs and smelly butts.

(I still love all your butts to bits, even tho' I haven't been smellin' 'em lately. Forgive a doog?)

My ma wears Opy scent. Can you buy this in stores?

Hi doogs,

I'm so excited 'cos my ma and da went to visit my hero, my bionical doog pal Charlie...



...and my sexygruffy Opy-gal-pal...



Oh, and their humans.





And they had a great time. And they spent much longer there than they'd planned to. And they all seemed to get on like a house on fire (even though I wasn't there to moderate and play cute).

Bionical Charlie is lookin' good, and my ma and da got to see his battle scars and the lump which is his pawcemaker. He's such a brave doooog, but he's lucky to have such good, caring parents.

And as for my gorgeous gal-pal Opy, well, her drool and scent on my ma's jacket just about sent me into orbit. I'm still trying to find a way to relieve my ma of that item of clothing and roll around in my bed with it.

Ahem.

So anyway.

Charlie and Opy's humans gave mine Scooby snacks and a stuffy for me. How thoughtful. Thank you very much! Here's the stash:



I'm relieved my da didn't dip into the snacks on the drive back from Melbourne to Adelaide. I wouldn't have put it past him.

Here's my first sniff-down of the stash...



You're mine, l'il fella....





I'll deal with you later...



Here's me trying to hypnotise the ma into giving the Scooby treat to me NOW, but she's blinkin' well immune to that carry on...



...gimme that snack NOW...



....please?

Anyone know any good hypnodooog CDs so I can learn how to get the ma to do what I want?

Keep getting better, Charlie. I love Opy-gal.

Le sigh.

A night of entertainment, movies and popcorn. Without the entertainment and movies.

Tell me doogs, when a night at the movies with popcorn is suggested, WHO NEEDS THE MOVIES?

Yes I'm up for a howlin' night in...

...I'll stand for any type of candy bar...

....just waitin' for the credits to roll...

...now...pleeeeeeeeeease...

...delish.

Five gold stars for that entertainment.

NEXT!

Chow for now dooogs.

For five months I've been missin' you...

I'm so ashamed, I can hardly look at you, dooogs.



I'm hardly barkin' at the ma either.



Oh my dooog, five months?

Honestly, it's been way tooo long without your sniffs and howls, and I haven't been to your smelly blogplaces in agesssss either.



Can you ever forgive me?



Will you ever come and chew the fat again with me?



Of course I'll understand if you never want to sniff my butt again.



Perfect Tosca said she'd bite her foot if I didn't post soon.

I should really bite mine for being so slack, although it wasn't my fault, If. You. Know. What. I. Mean.


No doubt the ma will insist on including a list of pathetic excuses in a later dogpost. 'The dog ate my homework.' 'I was busy.' 'I had to listen to some flowers growing.' 'Let's take on some barkin' challenges and do them all at once, shall we?''I clean forgot.' 'Blog, what blog?' 'Oh look, is that fish really looking at me?' .


I hope you still have all your paws, lovely Tosca.

Thank you all for not forgetting me completely. Thank you for stopping by and leaving tasty comments.

What's the highest compliment I can pay you, to let you know how I feel about you?



Mmmmmm, I know.



You are all like marrow bones to me:

delicious, lickable, desirable, wondrously smelly, pantingly scrumptious, everydooog's dream....

....and oh so good for me!

The day I nearly ran away from home...to be with my pawgal Opy

So there I was on Friday evening last, mindin' my own bizziness, waitin' for the dinner, and the ma comes out and says:

"Great news, Tin Tin, we're going to get to meet Greg! You know, Opy and Charlie's SHD."

Whaaaaat?!

One of the two DWB doog-gurus?

Coming here to our shed?

I almost forgot about food, I was so excited.

Maybe I'd be able to catch a whiff of Opyroma off him.

Maybe a bit of her fur would be on him and I could sniff it off, sleep with it on my bed, and dream doooggy dreams.

Or maybe...

...he'd have a big enough car, and the ma wouldn't notice, and I could sneak into the back, and drive off with him, and then help Greg and Brooke and Opy and Charlie to move to their new human kennel.

So, after about 45 minutes, the Gregster rang the doorbell.

Woohooo.

We had a blast, him 'n' me.

He played tug with me.

He ruffled my coat.

He cuddled me.

He paid me ATTENTION.

I made sure to bring over to him my orange coz that Opy and Charlie sent me.



I could tell he loved me.

I loved him and gave him big sloppy Tin Tin kisses.



He was one of those humans that, you know, UNDERSTANDS dooogs.



(That's me above doing my best Gruffpuppy look.

Good, innit?

Opy, are you impressed?)

Anyway, Greg must understand weird humans too 'cos he and the ma and da had a good ole chat.

Then he had to go.

Moment of truth...should I stay or should I go?



What do you think I did, dooogs?

Why, it was dinner time. I couldn't possibly leave.

And, well, the ma might have missed me.

So Opy, please forgive me for not being a stowaway in your SHD's truck.

But I came sooooo close....

I'm lookin' forward to playin' with Greg again. And to meeting Brooke. But of course it's Opy and Charlie I want to hang out with.

One day.

Le sigh.

Hippo burpday to meeeeee. Wheeeee.

Hey doogs.

It's my burpday today, wooohoooo.

And remember that biscuit recipe that the ma got, oh, I don't know, decades ago?

I barked about it here.



Well anyway.

What does she do?

She goes and makes me some biscuits. Finally.



Oh. My. Dog. I am happy to confirm that they are dribblesomely delicious.



Oh, and I'm nine. Years old.

Going on nine months behaviourally, apparently.

Hee hee hee.

Now gimme those biscuits. Pleeeeeeeease ma.



Lookin' forward to barkin' and howlin' at y'all in the chat room sometime later.

Spot the dog...

...somewhere in here.

Can you see me?

Call me the grand master of disguise.



Keepin' a low profile...



...and keepin' snug...



...but this is where I've been...



Just doin' a bit of chewin' and keepin' the dogarazzis at bay.

Winter solstice: survived thanks to a $7 designer coat.

I'm so sorry I've been a very bad doog pal of late. Can you all forgive me? (well, my slack ma, actually). I'm looking forward to sniffing around your smelly blogplaces real soon.

Now, on to the news.

It's been really cold here in Adelaide these last few weeks, almost as cold as we experienced when we lived in Canberra.

The ma was feeling rather sorry for me sleeping outside at night. I shivered and shook (at appropriate moments. I was actually rather comfy. But you doogs understand it's important to milk the sympathy line for all it is worth.)

So what did she do? Did she buy me a kennel? Nope. Did she allow me to sleep inside (the easiest, most sensible and PREFERABLE option by far)? Nope.

She bought me a coat. A COAT, for Dog's sake.

Me. Tin Tin. Who NEVER wears clothes. Ever.

(Except that one time Jay sent me a bandana, and I posed. And looked handsome.)

Okay, here we go:

See my wagging tail there? The treats made me do it.

My Yoda impression:


"A new coat, I have."


The coat fastens under my (much trimmer) tummy and around my chest.

I hope all you bee-itches out there have noticed how it strains over my dogly chest.

I actually got used to it very quickly. It's lined with real synthetic sheepskin, and although I'm loath to admit it, it has kept me really warm and toasty these last couple of weeks.

Oh, and those things hanging off my collar? My registration tags. The ma thought she'd leave them on like some kind of decoration or something.

So now I'm walking around with relics of my past status hanging off me.

Whatever.

Tin Tin the tree termite terminator. So how did you spend your Sunday?

A tree that looks like a tuning fork is in our back yard. Trouble is, the tree is almost dead.



The da hooked a chain around it.

And guess who pulled it down?



Before you guess, here's what it looked like. Those termites were havin' themselves a big feed.



Blowin' on the paws, gettin' ready for the pull...



...is this helping?



I feel kinda like how Ao4 or my other Sibe pals must feel when they're pullin' sleds and other stuff.



Tin Tin termite terminator at your service.

Now where's the treat ma?

PS ok so I didn't yank the tree down. The stupid humans thought it would be funny to make it look like I did.

Ha blinkin' ha.

I'll be baaaaaaack.

PPS Bye bye sweet FuFu. And hell-oooo hell-oooo Girl Girl.