WHAZZUP??!! Two post in a week?? I'm on a roll!
I did something naughty, and I'd like to tell you all about it.
I broke into the human meat locker, that they like to call the "fridge." Mom doesn't know how, but I did it, and I am most pleased with my bad self. Mom keeps all my meatables on the bottom shelf of that wonderful machine... right at eye level for me and my brother. But I didn't take the meat. Didn't even touch it.
As it turns out, meat is not my most favorite feasting material.
Instead, I stretched my long and stretchy body all the way up to the tip top shelf, where I dug through a pile of vegetables, each snugged up in their own little bag. I picked my way through the pile, past the diakon radish, bypassing the carrots, ignoring the onions. Then I found it. The feasting of my desire.
The same thing that I am being all GoodBoySitStay for in this photo.
I am mildly obsessed with celery. It is my most favorite feasting ever. I drip droolies and beg the best begs whenever my mom takes it from the food box. It makes for the absolute BEST cold crunching feasting in the entire world.
What? Are you surprised?!? A meat-feasting beast like me totally digging on some green non-meat aisle material? Dude. Try it. It is AMAZING. And I'm pretty sure that something this good has to be made of meat even though it's green.
In fact, I've even got my brother eating it. He used to chew it to bits and spit it out, but even that stinkbutt has grown to love the crunch of fresh organic celery deliciousness.
Mom doesn't mind the daily feast snack either. She says that it helps to "speed things along" in the mornings when she needs to go to work. I think she's referring to how quickly I gobble down my veg. (By the way, I would like you to take note of the wonderful paper shreds that Big Pupi and I surprised mom with when she came home from the grocery store. She LOVES it when we greet her with thoughtful presents and decorations!)
In other news, mom got a call from the doggy doctor yesterday. My brother had some tests done on his ticker, and she got the results. Let me give you a little back story.
About 18 months ago, my brother was diagnosed with a heart murmur. It was a grade 1 (on a scale of 1–6, with 6 being valve failure). This is a very common ailment for beasts like us. As we age, the valve tissue can thicken, causing a murmur. It can be a progressive problem. But at stage 1, you don't do anything but keep an eye on it.
During our annual exam a few months ago, our new vet said it sounded like the disease had progressed to a stage 2. Not good. That's way too quick for mom's comfort. And given our hard-running lifestyle, heart health is a big concern. Big Pupi LIVES for our morning runs, and so mom thought it best to have a few more tests done.
Which brings me to his robo-dog naked pink chest panel.
Big Pupi spent the day at the doctor, (while I got to play at camp... SWEET), where they shaved his chest and took a gander at his ticker. Turns out that BP's blood mover does indeed have a leaky valve, but it is no where near a stage 2. Although there is some blood going back in to the heart, it is not enough to slow him down or even worry about at this point. My folks and doctor will keep an eye on it, but we don't need to taper down our runs or watch our exercise. She said that his resting heart rate is so low, and his resting breathing rate is slow, which all indicate a healthy heart and healthy body. Good news.
I was smiling (mostly because I get to continue on my morning fast hunts).
To make good news ever gooder, doctor said that BP's heart shows no signs of disfigurement or severe scarring from the heartworm that he had back when my mom first took him home. So overall, he gets an A+ on the old man health chart.
Ever since his first murmur diagnosis, mom changed up his supplements a bit. Now he gets a therapeutic dose of fish oil, at 2,000 mg per day instead of 1,000 (total of 240 mg DHA and 360 mg EPA). He's continued at 200iu Vitamin E every day to help metabolize the oil. Because antioxidants are really good for the cardiovascular and immune systems, he is given 500 mg Vitamin C, and about 300 mg of Coenzyme Q-10. CoQ10 has been shown in clinical trials to be beneficial to heart (and gum) tissue, and is also an antioxidant. Furthermore, CoQ10 is being studied for its cancer prevention benefits, which is something all senior dogs need to keep an eye out for.
BP has also shown some very slight signs of stiffness in his knees, so about 5 months ago mom started him on about 1,000 mg of Glucosamine daily. He gets the shellfish-free kind, because those kinds of fishes make him vomit for hours. After about 6 weeks on this supplement, he no longer shows any symptoms of arthritis. Once we're done with this bottle of Glucosamine, mom will move him to another shellfish-free kind that also has hyaluronic acid in it, as that is supposed to make the supplement work even better. We're both still on a pre-made greens mix with seaweed and alfalfa, and a Multi-B vitamin given a few times per week.
So... it sure sounds like a lot. But a couple of vitamins in each meal really isn't a big deal and we're HUGE believers that good nutrition is the BEST form of preventive medicine. Plus, vitamins cost WAY LESS cheese-money than vet bills.
Just a little food for thought from your beastly friends.
And I can promise you that we'll be thinking of our foods when we're out on our run tomorrow!
From your feasting friend,
Saturday, September 24, 2011
WHAZZUP??!! Two post in a week?? I'm on a roll!
Thursday, September 22, 2011
What's up bloggerinis?!
It's your long-lost pal, Stanislaw. Just chillin'. Being beastly. You know. The usual.
I've made the very intelligent decision to entertain you with the most spectacular photos of me (and mediocre ones of my brother), while I update you on our feastings and last few months. The photos have nothing to do with the post, except that Big Pupi and are playing with some sweet new toys that look like meatables. Awesome.
As you can imagine, a whole huge bunch of things have happened since I last wrote to you. For starters, our new doctor says that my brother is probably TEN YEARS OLD instead of the assumed 8. HA HA. Awesome. I always knew he was a grumpy old man! Aside from that revelation, and almost completely losing his hearing in old-man style, Big Pupi is fit as a fiddle (I have no idea what that means). We continue on our fast hunts in the early mornings and he outruns both my mom and me on the last mile. Don't tell anyone that.
Now for news about me! I have been completely weaned off my Prozac and have made enormous improvements on my OCD, twitching and other wacky behaviors. In the past YEAR, I've only had ONE bad episode of screaming and twitching and that's it!! It used to happen every single day before my medicine. Although I will never be a "normal" dog, I am now living a very comfortable and healthy life. And "normal" is boring anyway. Right?
With those minor updates, let me tell you what's been keeping my humans from posting for me.
You see, there's this big scary monster called Economy. This Economy beast did some major damage to my mom's industry in our last city. After a bit of struggle, mom got a job in another city that was too good to be true and she just couldn't turn it down. My dad, on the other hand, already had a good job and is too far through law school to transfer. Dad works full time, goes to school straight from work, and then comes home to homework every night until 2am. While my mom works very long hours, she's allowed to bring her work home with her at night. And so, Big Pupi and I moved down south with our mom.
It's not uncommon for mom's job to have her working until 10 or 11 at night (advertising... sheesh!). Because The Stanislaw requires much attentions and affections, she doesn't always have a lot of time or energies to keep up with my blog. But that doesn't mean that we're not reading yours. I promise that we are! It just means that I'm living life on the down-low for a while.
I'd totally like to bite this Economy monster in the bum. HARD.
But dad is done with school in May, and he's at the very top of his class. I can't wait to be a family again soon!! Mom says that we are making sacrifices so that we can "invest in our future" right now. All I have to say is that this dang "future" better have a squirrel farm for me in there somewhere.
So that's the Happenings with your friend Stanislaw. We're still feasting raw, running hard, and living life all beastly-like.
We've missed you!
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Mom has been working crazy-long hours. I find this inexcusable. I am a full-time job and should be treated as such.
To make that point, on one particularly late night this week, I weebled on the carpet. That's right. And I didn't even get in trouble!!
To make it up to us, (and I suspect to alleviate some of her guilt), mom took my bro and me for a super long speed walk today. The weather was perfect for some dock-jumping and squirrel-track-sniffing. SO FUN. At one point the roll of pooble bags fell out of mom's pouchy-holder-thing and the second she noticed they were gone Big Pupi did a huge pooble. SO COOL! I always knew that my stink bro had a sense of humor.
When we got home, we feasted on BP's fav - fishies.
Mom gets this stuff at the human grocery store and is kind of baffled by the guts and skin and bones that are still in the can.
She thinks it's pretty gnarly, but we think it's so good it's worth being all Good Boy and doing our Sit Wait before feasting. Mmmm... fishes and ricotta cheese. I LOVE our after exercise meals. (I've really never met a feast I didn't like...)
After we fill our bellies, Big Pupi and I like to stretch our rippling muscles with a little stuffy nibbling. Every so often BP lets me nibble on one of his favorite toys, and today I seriously lucked out with Size XL Racoon. His tail makes the most magical crinkly sounds when I give it nibbles.
Big Pupi played with our new octopus toy - a gift from our grandhumans. He likes to get in mom's face with it and tease her. He really wants her to take it and send it flying across the room.
This was one of those flying octo moments.
I got so into my nibbles that my legs went all frog-ish and my tail kept up its wiggles. But no matter how in the zone I was, I had to make sure to mind myself because Big Pupi will take toys away from me if I begin to gut them. What can I say? The dude taught me to respect the stuffies.
I love these days that BP shares with me! Size XL Racoon is a hot commodity in these parts and I almost never get to play with him.
I even got to prance around with him and trip over his Size XL body. I fell on my face. AWESOME!
Share your toys, folks.
Lessons on life, from your friend,
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
So, I'm watching the Westminster Dog Show when I see something that looks awfully familiar on the picture machine. I'm all like WHAT?! How do I TIVO this business?!?
And then I come to realize that the black cocker spaniel with the short name Beckham is totally kicking Sporting Group bum and prancing his manliness around the ring.
AND THEN HE WINS.
Woot woot! I'll be rooting for you Mr. GCH Casablanca's Thrilling Seduction. I'm pretty sure we're related, given all of the beastliness and handsome-good-lookingness we both possess. Like brothers or something. No joke.
We're hoping you bounce all those manly furs and dangly ears right into Best in Show. And when you're all done winning, give me a call. I could totally go for a family reunion.
Back to the show!
Sunday, January 30, 2011
I have no idea what "relax" means. Seriously. No clue.
Because of my folks' work-thingy that they seem to love so much and spend so much time on, they put my bro and me in daycare last week to give us a break from the monotony of staying at home all day and all night. They can watch us on webcam while we romp and play, and mom noticed a black cocker spaniel there spending much of its time lying down and chillin' on the playground. At first she thought it was me and became super worried that I was sick. I never sit down! I never hold still! What could be the matter?! But to her relief I went zipping across the screen in a blur of noodle-ish spaniel wiggles and hyper energies.
Sitting still just ain't my thing.
Something about this weekend's weather made my folks want to get outside and play, so Big Pupi and I got to go on some really nice fast hunts and long walks. One would think that a 90-minute run/walk would tucker a little guy out... but there's just no way. When we get home I looked like this:
I lied in the sun trying to be all relaxed-like, but it didn't last long before I had wiggled my way across the room.
What can I say? Those awesome post-exercise feastings of cottage cheese, yogurt and tuna make a boy all happy inside.
Big Pupi, on the other hand, knows how to turn it up on a run and then get some major snoozels when we get home. He feasts and his eyelids get heavy. All he needs is a little patch of sunlight and the snores begin.
Mom topped off our feast-snacks yesterday with a bully stick. I snarfled mine down right away, but BP wasn't hungry enough to eat it and fell asleep with it in his mouth. This is what he looks like when he's all disgruntled because mom woke him up with her flashing toy.
The whole time Big Pupi snoozeled, I took my post by the window watching the comings and goings of the neighborhood dogs and squirrels and birds and stuff.
I prop my front feet up on the arm of my humans' sofa so that I can more comfortably see out the window. I've just about ruined that part of their couch. Awesome!
This is the nerd-butt bro holding his bully right before mom discovered a humongous tick in his mohawk.In fact, she's still not certain if that was a tick or a gerbil up in there. Totally gnarly dude.
And this snapshot is called "Mohawk en Fuego."Humans are so weird. But their food is mighty tasty, so I put up with it.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
'Sup my favorite fuzzy friends? Stanislaw here, staring out the window at the tasty niblets that scamper by.
Big Pupi and I have been B-O-R-E-D lately. My folks haven't been able to take us on our fast hunts thanks to a bazillion and a half hours of work they are forced to do so that they can buy my feasting materials. You'd think that I'd be okay with the situation since it's for my general good, but I'm not. So in lieu of fast hunts, I've been hunting for some seriously naughty things to keep myself occupied. I am in need of metal stimulation, and how can you blame me if those leather strappy things on mom's boot happened to be the item of my occupation-ism?
To avoid any more leather feasting, we've been kept busy on our balance ball. My bro and I LOVE IT. We try to push each other out of the way to get on it and then run around and wait in line for our turn. IT IS SO AWESOME. And delicious. We get to eat little gobs of cream cheese off of mom's fingers when we're good balancing boys.
I've finally figured out the art of actually balancing on the ball instead of just sitting my rear right down on it. My nerdalicious brother has actually learned to stand up on his hinders while balancing on the ball. Sheesh. Show off much?? Mom thinks it's hysterical that BP has learned a whole manner of circus tricks but in the 5 years she's had him, BP is has never learned how to shake. No joke. But you know who's got that whole shake-thing down pat? THIS GUY. Heck, I'll put my whole torso in your hand when you ask for a shake. I'd like to see the dorkus do THAT! His standing ain't got nothin' on me!
Here are some videos for your immense enjoyment. Try not to be distracted by the massive amounts of beastliness. I know I do sometimes.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Big Pupi makes a reintroduction:
Hello my feaster friends! It's been quite some time since we've made note of our beastly goings-on. Too long! And with that thought I have a very important announcement to make.I have discovered a new food group.It's called Smoked Salmon, and it's THE MOST tongue-dance-y, tastebuddy-swirling thing I have ever had the pleasure of feasting upon. Now, I've heard that smoking is not good for you, but I'm sure glad these fishies took that risk because it made them DELICIOUS. Mom only lets us have little tastelets of the goodness, but I will be Supreme Good Boy for any scrap I can wrap my lips around. Mmm Mmm Mmm. Fishies.Due to the extreme amounts of nutrition and feastingness that this new food most definitely possesses, I have decided that it must be its own food group. I could live on it!! Because of this, I demand that my folks begin moving this into my normal meat rotations. Like, every Monday, Wednesday and Friday shall be Smoked Salmon feasting days. As well as the occasional Tuesday, Thursday and weekend. Sounds balanced to me. I just made a weekly meal plan. Other canines: take note of my vast nutritional knowledge. I have prepared a PowerPoint in case my humans need more convincing.
In other news, Stanislaw and I are doing quite well and we're enjoying our new home and warmer climate. I don't have to wear clothes nearly as often and I haven't seen my rubber boots in almost a year!!! Stanislaw does miss the snow but finds that mud is just as much fun to roll in. We're adjusting just fine.
The only downside of living here is that mom just can't seem to find a vet that she likes nearly as much as our Chicago doctor. I especially dislike this one doc that muzzled me and then declared me to be 9 years old instead of the my previously presumed 7. (This was after I thrashed and sufficiently kicked her behind and made her a sweaty mess. AWESOME!) Dude, that's like 14 years ahead of schedule. Sure, my teeth are a titch worn down and I've just about lost all my hearing, but have you SEEN my beastly attitude and rippling running muscles? Whatever lady. This spaniel-o-manliness shall never reveal his age. You just keep guessing.
Speaking of age... some folks say that you can't teach an old dog new tricks. Well, I've successfully proved them wrong. My mom got a trick idea from our buddies Mango and Dexter. For Christmas, Dad got us a blow-up peanut exercise ball and mom has been teaching us to balance on it. (By the way, do you like my carpet decorations??!!)Mom usually says that I make her look good and she actually has no clue how to actually train a dog. From my perspective, I can tell you that is absolutely true. She timed me from my first introduction to the balance ball to when I got the trick - 2 minutes. Yup. You read that right. The lazy human barely lifted a finger.
In the video (at the bottom of the post), she's both talking to me and using hand signals (off camera). I can't really hear her anymore, so I run off body language. But mom has learned that Stanislaw learns both the verbal and non-verbal cues by watching me to the trick and then copying what I do. He still doesn't quite get it, (he sits on the ball instead of balances and mom has to help him), but it's mostly there. Here are a pic of his manly rear placed on our balance ball.That's about all from us for now. It's about time I made my salmon presentation to my people. They have such short attention spans that I need to strike while they're focused in my direction. Sheesh. Some day I'll have them appropriately trained.
Your friend in feasting,
Big Pupi (and his brother, Stanislaw)
Sunday, September 19, 2010
Hey feaster folks. Sorry we've been MIA for oh-so long. Big things have happened.
We drove in the pukemobile for two whole days and wound up in a whole new world. My territory now has frogs and turtles and fishies and lizards and other awesome creatures for me to scream at and weeble on. I guess you can call this a homecoming for Big Pupi and me... we're back in the Land of 1,000 Summers. Otherwise known as "Texas." We've been having crazy fun and even pulled mom into a lake for some quality swimming time. Awesome! I love family bonding.
While we made the trip just fine, the camera is no where to be found. Once we're settled and have our wits about us again we'll resume our usual posting schedule complete with full-color photographs of your favorite cocker-beasts. Please try to contain your excitement.
And the feast continues.
Friday, July 2, 2010
It's Big Pupi again:
My folks have had me for just about 5 years now, and in that time my mom has never ever heard me howl. She didn't believe dad when he told her that I burst into squealing song every time she takes Stanislaw out and leaves me home. The thing is, I will never howl as long as I know someone is home, and so the only times dad has ever heard me sing my secret melodies is when he's still in bed snoozeling and I can't see that he's home.
The requirements for a Secret Howl are rarely met, but on this particular early morning mom had to take Stan out for a second morning walk (he was having issues finding his poobles) and dad was still in bed. Convinced that I was alone, and without realizing that I was being filmed, I flexed the golden pipes and howled like a beast of frightening proportions.
My singing stuffy Elf, (whose proper name is Saint Elf de Apartment Next to Kitty Smell), gets me really revved up for a good howl. All that manly thrashing was caught on tape. The howling however... you can't see me do it, and so I'm letting you know now it wasn't me. There's no way that my testosterone-fueled voice can reach octaves that high. No way. Impossible. I think I've been framed.
My howl always has, and always will be, my secret howl.
Sorry mom. Better luck next time.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Big Pupi has ISSUES.
When the clock strikes 4:30 PM my brother and I begin begging for our 5:15 feasting. We are never late, nope. Not ever. It drives mom crazy!! We stare at her, silently screaming through body language. Every time she looks up at us, I lick my lips and step gingerly from the right paw to the left. This is a polite way of saying: FEED ME YOU USELESS HUMAN!!!!
This goes on for the better part of an hour, and will not end until we are fed. Staring makes humans feel all squirmy and uncomfortable. It's pretty awesome!
A few nights ago, during my begging, my mom noticed that I was the one looking uncomfortable for a change. I tried to hold my gaze but kept feeling the need to tend to my manliness. As a beast which normally has laser focus, this was a tip off that something was indeed very wrong, and it didn't take long for my mom to realize that I once again suffered from a case of Angry Weebelitis. Again!! Why??!!
I immediately fell into a depression. I knew where this was heading - straight to the Place of Tile and Steel where I will be poked in the most inappropriate of places and handled in the most inappropriate of ways. DANG WEEBLE! Why must he spend the entire summer giving me grief?!
Mom and my vet were concerned about putting me on another dose of oral or injected antibiotics since this problem seems to continue throughout all of the warm weather months. That makes for a LOT of medication and a majorly increased risk of breeding some sort of super bacteria in my manliness. This sounds rather unpleasant, and I happen to be a big fan of my weeble. I don't want to harm him.
So the vet gave my mom some tools to bring home. I got all excited, thinking for sure that Dr. lady had set my mom up with some super awesome stuffy tools for my construction endeavors, but NO. What she got was this:
Sure, it's seriously better than the torture element she was given last year, but c'mon. Is this a stinkin' JOKE? I don't come up with these sorts of things and use them on people? What the heck is wrong with you humans?!
Unlike last summer's dentist's-looking monster device (which would inspire me to get outright violent with mom [a first], and which was never again attempted after I made my thoughts on it clear), this new device hooks into a soft rubber tube with holes at the end.
The evil contraption gets shoved a few inches into my manliness! THE HORROR! Then the medicine gets flushed through and when it's all done I get to feast on some serious cheese. Actually... I have to be honest with you... it's not so bad, especially compared to its predecessor. As long as my medicine is warm I'll stand there Like Good Boy for the few seconds until it's over with, and so far it hasn't made my weeble fall off. I know this for certain because I spend much time checking on such important matters.
I haven't had one single hint of Angry Weebelitis since this process began. I guess this is a good thing. E. coli of the wee was never all that enjoyable.
Once it is all said and done I feel the need to protect my manliness, and so I sleep with my legs in crossed protection positioning. That stinkin' hose can't get in here!
While all this torture and cruelty is happening to me, Stanislaw is being all Lounge Boyish in his man cave and mocking me for my weeble disorder. Whatever. He's got a bad case of noodlebutt and he knows it.
After a traumatic event my singing stuffy elf always makes me feel better, and so I thrash the heck out of him and force him to sing "Jingle Bells" about 3,543 times over and over and over again. I do this just to make my mom go insane and to remind her that even though she's got that hose thing, I've got the power in this place.
Oh, and don't think this whole event is going to deter me from staring you down for my dinner, dearest mother. Heck no. In fact, I'm thinking of pushing my start time up to 4:15, so I can get a FULL HOUR of slightly unnerving staring in every single day. Yeah, that's right. For as long as that hose is in the picture there will be staring contests and singing stuffies. Deal with it.
From a disgruntled dog with a happy weeble,