New Years is WHEN??

But I haven't made my "Res-o-lu-tion" yet!  Think, Robin, think...

The Roll Over King

That's me.  My foster lady showed me how to do a "roll over for treats" awhile ago, but if she wants to show me again, that's okay.  Did I tell you I don't have to eat that rice and slimy cottage cheese slush food anymore?  Hooray!  Now I get fishy-smelling goodies for my food and get eensy sausage goodies for rolling around on the ground like I do with Sweet Pee.

She says I am the "Roll Over King," and the Nice Mister did a video because he was so proud.  See?

Can't get enough

Sweet Pee and me are happy.  She told me she doesn't miss her leg much anymore, and actually, without it, I can move and jump and tumble around her much easier.  I told her that I think she is much more fun with 3 legs anyway.

We got the "A-OK" to play tonight for real, and it was so exhausting!  I stayed on the floor a lot because she is just a baby, remember?  And, it's only fair this way.

And remember when I told you that I hate my crate because it has ALONE time and I would sing my sad songs about it?  Well, not anymore.  This is me in Sweet Pee's crate after playing.  The foster people put Sweet Pee in the front room because they have to watch her to make sure she's not licking her lost leg.  I think that I would like to be in the front room too, even if I have to be in a crate after playing because the foster lady needs a "piece of quiet" for awhile.  Ahhhh...joy.

A puppy after my own heart

This blog is about me, but I have so many friends that come over, and they told me if I put photos of them on my blog they would give me sweet goodies.  Chlo-wee from yesterday smuggled in chicken softie treats (and I only get rice and cottage cheese right now because the foster lady says my bottom "needs it,"), so I also need smuggled in softie treats.

Today I got to play with someone I think is very special.  Her name is Sweet Pea.  The Humane Society didn't want to leave her all by her lonesome on Christmas so they asked the foster people to take her home, and she is like a little present to me.  She's waiting for a home too.  I call her Sweet "Pee" because she does this a lot (she's still a baby), and I love to do that right on top of hers.

She has 3 legs.  But I am still more bouncy than her even though I have 4.

She's on pain med-i-ca-tion for her lost leg, so she's a little slow, and I can't wait until she is normal again because I think we will have the best time together.  She already knows how to  get ready to play...(and see how I do this by making my cheeks all smooshy and laying down?)

And then she knows about rolling and nuzzling in necks...(I try to make this easy for her because she only has 3 legs)

Sweet Pee is a puppy after my own heart because I am a party machine and I can play for many hours without a water break.  And the foster people just don't quite understand the rolling and nuzzling and chewing that is involved in playing for real (believe me, I've tried doing this with them and they always make me stop and "take a chill pill").  But now with Sweet Pee, I can do all of these things.  Because we both got a second chance, and that's so nice.

Thanks Santa

Santa is the best.  He told Chlo-wee that I am contagious.  And that she should love me and all of my ways.  And she did.  Chlo-wee is very noisy when she is playing with me.

I am such a happy camper on Santa's day.

Dear Santa

Dear Santa, I want to play for Christmas.  For about 3 hours straight.  And there should be toys involved.  And the foster people should move the furniture so I can twist and turn into little pretzel shapes with my little body.

For Christmas, I want to show Chlo-wee how precious I am when I open my little troll mouth.

And do twisties on the floor like a little fishie.

And even though it's taken 4 weeks for Chlo-wee to pay attention, I want you to make her love me until she can't stand it anymore and caves.  Because I am so damn cute.

The Ancient One

I finally met the Chi-wa-wee they call "The Ancient One" today.  

"The Ancient One"

 She has been with the foster people the longest, and she lives in a cave in the back of the house.  I am always in my crate when I hear the shuff-shuff, shuffling coming from the cave...across my room...and to the backyard and then back again.  But slowly, like a long-lost ritual, I got to see her.  Just a glance at first.  If I forgot to look, I would miss her, and for awhile I thought she was trying to play tricks on me.  And then I got to be outside the room with my leash on only.  But, I was never allowed to look directly at her.

"The Ancient One" has many rules.  When I get too close, she opens up her mouth at me and I have to run away because I think she has an angry squirrel that crawled up inside and fell asleep in there.  When I want to smell her butt, she goes into a scary dance, and at first I think she is playing so I play bow, but the foster lady says that will only get me into trouble because "The Ancient One" is displeased.

I think she is so small that it would be fun to roll her around like a circus ball on my paws, but when I asked her to do this with me, she said foul language at me.  I got so fus-trated that I peed on the foster people's table.

But the lady says I'm being a good boy and that I just have to let her "be." Anyways, I snuck into the Chi-wa-wee's cave last night and found this picture tucked underneath her bed.

I think that she has a spell that gives dogs Bad Manners, so I will limit my time with her and just be a good boy...on my bed...with my toys.  A little fus-trated, feeling like I need to pee on many things, but safe at least.     

I am a happy boy

This is me after playing with my flirt pole.  My tongue is very long.

The lady asked me to sit with my tongue for a happy shot.

Wait...did you take my groovy side?

Yes, yes you did.

I am a helpful boy

I learned to roll over today.  And I also learned to be helpful in the kitchen.

And when Mister wants to light a fighter.

And when the lady folds blankets and she wants to make sure they all fit in the closet.  This is me smooshing them down.

 And this is me running with "crazy eyes."  I am helping other dogs run after me.  The lady and Mister say I am a very busy boy being helpful.

This is Me. This is my Crate.

I have spent some time thinking about a way to memorialize my "alone time," which I hate.  Today, I shared with the lady my ab-horr-ence (learn a new word every today...check), with the thing that has cuddly things inside it and treats tucked in the crevices but also has "alone time" and THAT cancels out everything else.  I did it in a song...a ballad, if you will.  An old ballad from the olden days.  Low, long yodels.  Little bubbles of song deep from my belly that go on for a long time.  The lady took this picture after I was done.  She said that it showed my per-son-a-lity but it wouldn't help my case.  I need to be one with my "alone time," she said.  I will sneak a recorder in with me next time so I can start my new album, "The Life and Times of a Foster Dog Who Doesn't want to be one with alone time but just wants to be one with the people and the stuffies and the walking around the city and cuddling and learning parlor tricks." 

The Art of Pleasing

My foster lady says I'm like the Goldilocks story.  She says I'm "Just Right."  She said this after I learned how to lay down when she told me to.  I already knew to lay down, see?  This is me laying down with Penny (I miss her by the way).  But I get sweet goodies when I do things that my foster mom says I should do.  She also said I was "Just Right" to the foster Man when I came up and snuggled in her armpit.  And she said it again after I played really hard with my stuffy toy and then fell asleep.


Here is me laying down in black and white.  I did it so fast and fancy-like that it means I was doing an "Art," so we put it in a picture with no colors.

She doesn't say I'm just right or doing an "Art" all the time though.  She made a stinky face when it was so cold outside today and she wanted me to potty so I stood straight and did it on my feet to warm them up.  It sure felt "Just Right."  

My friend Penny

This is my friend Penny.

She came to spend the weekend while her foster dad went to be grateful with his family at Thanksgiving.  Penny is 7 months old, so I am older than her.  She has very long legs.

Since everyone is being grateful today, I want to tell you what I am grateful for.  I am grateful for playing with Penny.  Even when she makes me carry her around.

And I am grateful for butts.

This is me smelling Penny's butt

And I am grateful when dogs smell my butt.

This is Penny smelling my butt

And I am grateful for the people in O-hi-o who found me and took me away from the cold place.  And I am also grateful to the BADRAP people for wanting to give me a chance to play and eat Cal-i-for-ni-a food and sleep on a "Lazee-boy" at night and for letting me stay with the foster people who have many dog friends and warm places in their house.

And I am grateful for eating grass with Penny.

Me.  Grass.  And Penny.

I am NOT a goober face

Remember when I told you my foster people said I had a "goober face" so they needed a new camera and I thought it could mean I could have less rules?  I was wrong.  I looked it up, and I am thoroughly offended.  I'll let you read the definition.  Then...look at this face.  And tell me what is goober about it.  

 So, I had sort of a complex this morning after I got on the compeeter, and I was acting all sulky, and then all of a sudden, there was a knock on my door!  Chloe came to visit!  Chloe likes to visit my foster people because they always have new dogs here (another hit to my ego; I'm not the first to be graduated here).  Anyway, since you know I'm velcro, I knew Chloe and me would have a crazy, lovey play session.  See, Chloe used to play with Bucky, and then he got adopted.  You can see how much she loves him here.

I wagged my tail, and I put my butt in her face.  I licked her mouth and did jumpies all around her (I know dogs like that), and ya know what?  She barked at me.  So I rubbed my side on her side, and then I licked her face again, but all she did was run away from me.  We spent the rest of the afternoon like this.

Chloe's dad said that she was being a "diva" and a "pill," and just needed time to warm up to me.  I hope this doesn't take too long.  Maybe we'll try again this week, and I'll rub my non-goober face in her neck, and put my bottom in the air, and try even harder next time to make her love me.  I mean, I am optimistic by nature.

Until then, I'll keep myself busy with other important things.

Read my last post, you get the drift

I am being worked.  If you read my last post, then you know what I mean.  Sit to eat, wait to go outside, drop my toys, go potty here, and then there's the bedtime rules.  No yodeling in my crate, and I'm not allowed to get up at 6 am.

The lady says that nothing in life is free, but I Think that pocket pits like me should get a break.  I mean, my legs are like, a foot from the ground...and I give the best kisses.  I mean geez, help a guy out!

Okay, enough of the griping for now.  There is a light at the end of this very loooong tunnel.











I worked so good today that the lady let me zen out on her lap.  See, if I am held like a wittle baby, I sort of go to sleep really fast.  It's one of my most endearing qualities, AND my favorite position, and I get to do it if I'm a good boy (and especially when I let go of my toys if the lady tries to take them - I'm sort of greedy like that).

So, I guess if I have to work so hard, I should get some good rewards.  Heck, if I didn't get my "zen time" at least,  I would consider blowing this pop stand (I say "consider" because, well, it's raining and it's lightning, so...but consider it I will).

And I would probably stay for awhile longer because I got on the couch tonight, and the lady came up to me, and I closed my eyes so she wouldn't notice me, and even though I'm not allowed up there, she told me to get off and still gave me a sweet goodie.  That was nice.  P.S. I heard the lady mumbling that my pictures aren't coming out very well.  She said, "He is even MORE of a goober-face in these photos, so I have to get a better camera."

Less goober-face, I think that means I could also get less rules.  Score.

Me just closing my eyes, hoping the lady
doesn't notice I'm on the couch even though I know it's only for zen-time.

She makes me wait

I've been graduated for one day, and I thought I had it made.  I could fly free.  Eat many things.  Chew on small bits and big bits and bits attached to other bits.  I thought I could be unencumbered by the rules of a lesser dog.

But my foster people, especially the lady, thinks that a "tie-down" and a "crate" will help me learn Manners.  And so I wait.  Oh would you like to go to the kitchen to check out the food bin, Robin?  Oh no thank you, I would much rather be tied to the table and salivate while I wait 100 hours for you to come back.

Robin, I have this wonderfully scrumptous sock that I'm flipping around in my hand, would you like to have it?  How generous of you, but no!  I prefer to be shackled to your waist so that I can't even leap up to taste a measly corner.

As so I wait.  Because the lady brought Manners to graduation, and he's really crimping my style.  Sigh.

Here I am!

This is me going to my graduation

You've probably met my friend Chunk.  He has his own blog, see?  http://justaskchunk.blogs.../how-did-i-get-here.html   

We talked last night, and he told me he'd heard Nice Mister talking, and Nice Mister said I would probably get my own blog too because I was a good boy and had "velcro," like Chunk, and was going to graduate soon.  Guess what?  Two people picked me up to take me to graduation!  Graduation happens at their home, and they also call it "fostering."  

So here I am!

Me and Elliot

I came from O-hi-o, and then one day, all of a sudden, Chunk and me got to go to Cal-i-for-nia, and we met Nice Mister and Elliot and Josephine.  We got to play and sleep anytime we wanted, and it was so much fun.  That's when I found out my "real" name.

Me and Josephine

All the people call me "Robin," but I think my real name is "Party Central!"  I think that I am a party-in-a-box because my dogs like to be around me and play with me all the time.  Even strangers love to touch me and pet me and kiss my face, so I think I definitely have "velcro."  

Even on my first day at graduation at my foster mom and dad's house, I got tons of lovies and my own toys and bed.  I have to say, though, that my foster people are a little bit un-predictable, because every few minutes today, they would look at each other and yell "Gas!  Oh no, it's Gas!" and then fan the air around their heads.  If I was sleeping, Gas woke me up.  If I was playing, Gas interrupted me.  I've decided to assign myself the job of "The Gas-Finder" because I really can't have my foster people doing this all the time.  If I find him, I'll sit him down and tell him he has to find another house to be disruptive in.

It's been a very busy day for me.  I've been graduated, I gave myself a new job and I wrote a blog.  This party needs to go to bed.