Peeps on Parade and Pip, too.

I know we're late. In some timezones the weekend is all over already. But we figured we could just get a short Peeps post in before it was too late. Thank you to Sarge for this interesting idea.

 Now the Moms will not show up in photographs. They are either vampires or ghosts or maybe in the Witness Protection Program. Daddy doesn't mind, though. Perhaps it's because no on told him Blog Mom is posting him to the blog. Hee hee.

That's Daddy on the left. Franklin's the one on the right. I think the one who got cut off  might be my human brother. There are like a zillion pictures of him on the web. Here's one we...er.....borrowed.

That was when he was out on the road all the time, which he is not now. Which, believe it or not, is one of the reasons we haven't been online as much, lately. It's a long story, but the short version is he changed his life around some and now the house is more full of peeps more often, keeping my Blogging assistant much busier than she used to be. I like having more people around, but it's a bit annoying not to have my blogging assistant at my disposal. Still, things like that never stay the same for too long around here. We just have to go with the flow, is what I'm told.

Daddy's the one who's home with us the most. He's retired and not always well. But he loves us HUGELY and spends tons of time seeing to it that we have everything he thinks we want or need. He worries about us a lot, too. We're not sure why because we're fine, thank you, but he means well. Music has always been his great love. Classic rock is his favorite. He also likes sports quite well and he builds model cars as a hobby now that he's home all day.

Daddy and Blog Mom are married. Blog Mom works during the day as a bookkeeper at a not for profit organization. She loves her job. She isn't as crazy about domestic chores. Daddy does as many of those as he can if he's feeling well. Sadly, he doesn't cook. Franklin lives downstairs with them all the time and sleeps with them at night. I live downstairs with them during the day and early evening if Alpha Mom is not home.

Alpha Mom works in the same place as Blog Mom. Alpha Mom has worked there much longer. She's an attorney there. On weekends there's Sarge, of course. He's our equine brother who does not live here at home. He's a draft cross. Alpha Mom has loved all animal, but especially horses and doggies all her life. She is a vegetabletarian, too. I live with Alpha Mom when she's home, which is not as much as Blog Mom, and I sleep with Alpha Mom at night.

We still have our foster bass player.  In fact he's been here for four years, so Blog Mom is getting less optimistic about finding him a forever home. Here's a photo:

He's not only a fine bass player, he's quiet, housebroken and knows most basic commands. Franklin and I want to keep him. So far so good.

We want to say Happy Blogaversary to Mr. Pip. Looks like we didn't quite make he deadline to join in the Superhero fun. Blog Mom actually got her dates mixed up about that. But that doesn't mean we're not enjoying all the super creative superheroes who have shown up there because we are. And most of all, we just are so glad that we've had this chance to get to know Pip.

Our First Fight

I have to tell you, it's been a difficult evening around here. I've had to yell at Franklin from time to time. His reaction is usually perfectly satisfactory, in that he either stops doing whatever it is I don't want him to do, or if, for instance, a chewy is in dispute, he might run and hide under the chair with it. Either way, I'm the undisputed boss of him and it's all good. Tonight he yelled right back. What's more, there seems to be an idea that I bear some responsibililty for the incident in question. That's an unaccustomed and unwelcome feeling, let me tell you.  Now in general, I love Franklin. Having a little brother is overall a wonderful thing. But he does cramp my preferred dining style, which I believe is at the root of the whole thing.

I've mentioned that I'm a picky eater. Also a moody eater. And, some of the time I prefer to dine at a fashionably late hour. I usually eat with Blog Mom and Daddy. Alpha Mom is not often home at dinner time and doesn't cook at home much either. BF (before Franklin) Blog Mom or Daddy would put down whatever they hoped I'd decide to eat and then I would eat, or I'd tell them to leave it there and I'd get back to it when the mood struck me. I'd have dinner any time between 6 and 11 PM, strictly according to my own appetite and mood. Since the acquisition of a little brother, it's a whole different story. Dinner is served and if it's not eaten it's picked up, because otherwise Franklin will, of course, eat it. I have to admit I'd do the same in his place if I was in an eating sort of mood. If I've refused to eat all evening, I do get another shot when Alpha Mom and I head upstairs at night. Most usually I eat then, but not always. For the last couple of days I have not been in an eating mood at all. So, I suppose by dinner time tonight I was a little hungrier than usual.

 Saturday is hamburger night. I get some burger. Franklin does not because it hasn't agreed with him. He gets dog food. Usually, when I do dine at the same time as Franklin, either he finishes his food first or at about the same time as me, Lola. Tonight I went at dinner with a little extra  gusto or something because I was finished way before Franklin, and I guess that hunger strike I had been on came back to haunt me, because I was still hungry. And Franklin was still eating. So I decided I wanted his food. And he wouldn't let me have it! So, I got a little sharp with him. And he got quite sharp right back. That had never happened before. Not only that, Blog Mom told me I should stop. She said, "No, Lola.". I'm not used to that kind of language from her, either. The whole ugly episode has left us a bit on edge, I think. Oh, I did stop when Blog Mom told me to, and eventually  I did get some more food. She waited a while. Said she didn't want me to think that bad behavior was being rewarded. Bad behavior? Moi?

The rest of the evening passed pretty peacefully, but I think the whole thing was just a bit traumatic for all of us. I hope that we can all put it completely behind us now. Tomorrow we're getting baths at the groomer and I have found I much prefer to have Franklin along. It's always nice to be with pack and partial pack is better than none.

The Great Rearrangement Continues

Hi. Remember me, Lola? The forecast here is for continued slow blogging until either the end of time or until Blog Mom runs out of projects she can do, or make Daddy do, in the house whichever comes first.  See that photo above? I don't even look like that anymore. I have my new fall collar and not a single decent photo of it yet. It's pink with silver bones on it, by the way. Maybe you'll get to see it sometime, if we get our priorities straight.

Of course some of these home improvements do show the right attitude. See that bed that Franklin's on? That's my ratty old bed that had been retired but was recalled to duty when Franklin moved in.  That's history. Blog Mom came home from one of her expeditions with a new one, but we don't have a picture of it, do we? Actually, we're not sure we like it all that much. It's a little too fluffy for our taste. We prefer something in a flatter bed, but we're starting to use it. And at least she was thinking of the dogs while she was out that time.  She claims it all has a lot to do with us. She says that the house was never properly set up to accomodate a Pei centered family and now that there are two of us, it's more Pei centered than ever. Whatever.

Blog Mom has really got the bit in her teeth now. It all started, as far as I can tell, with her deciding that she just had to do something about where the cats eat, which was largely on the kitchen table. Because of the Pei, of course. It's actually the only dining table they currently have as the dining room has been pressed into service for other things, so it was pretty inconvenient to have the cats on the kitchen table entirely aside from the impression that makes on any normal people who might sneak into the house.  Anyhoo, there's an old hutch in the kitchen and she thought of clearing it off and giving it to the cats for their dining area. One thing leads to another. When you empty a space you have to put the things that were there other places. And if you're going to move the microwave you might as well get a new one, etc, etc.  Long, long story short - the kitchen had to be totally reorganized. And while we were at it, wasn't it about time we got a new kitchen table? Apparently it was.

Simone got it right away. It took Happy a little longer to remember where to look for his food and he still has to be put there sometimes. They both seem very pleased by the change, I have to admit. Happy sleeps there a lot during the day and both of them seem to enjoy having a dining/napping space that is exclusively theirs. But they did stay away the day the new table came. That was just too much change and commotion for them and they hid out in the bedroom until they were overcome with hunger. By then the table was in place and they could see it wasn't really dangerous at all.

Blog Mom almost satisfied with the kitchen for now, except for a few finishing touches she has in mind. It needs a new floor as does the front hall, but that's going to have to wait until there's a budget for it, and DIY is pretty much out of the question. It's for the best, believe me. However, this aggression did not stop at the kitchen door. She's begun the living room and one idea leads to another. Somehow we've gone to making a place for the kitties to eat to researching the pros and cons of gel burning fireplaces. After the living room she's already got a to-do list for the hall bathroom. And she's thinking up things she wants to do next Spring, too! We did get some new area rugs for the living room. There was a going out of business sale right on the way to the supermarket it seems. I like the rugs and am doing my best to infuse them with a nice, homey essence of Pei.

 I have to admit that despite the fact that some humans were not giving us undivided attention and there was all this upheaval going on, Franklin and I had a very nice, relaxing Labor Day weekend. The weather was beautiful and there were plenty of people around to let us in and out and out and in and see to our every need and most of our wants, too. We napped in the sun and played in the shade had treats and Franklin barked at the neighbors some and all in all, from a doggy point of view it was pretty nice even though Alpha Mom went to the Hampton Classic and didn't take us. She says she's taking us next year for sure. I hope you all had a great one.

Well, No Time Left for a Real Post, But How About a Dance?

It looks like my post about the awards is going to have to wait another day or even two. There are a number of excuses reasons that Blog Mom is having such a hard time getting up to date here. One of them is that she hasn't been able to do much of anything since really injuring her leg earlier this summer. Now it's gotten to the point where she can function a little better. The ankle is not normal sized yet and the calf is still weak and she needs a cane to balance, but that's a big improvement from where she was, believe it or not. Sooo...she's had lots of catching up to do and she's on a tear in the house. She just went through the kitchen and the living room is next on her list for a fall cleaning and minor face lift. She says it's past time that we have to "beat back the crazy". More about that if there's anything interesting to report there.

What's important is that it's a happy day in the dogiverse, because Miss Molly's Mom is reporting much improvement on that front and Mona's Mommy posted a happy update on Shelby. It's enough to make a doggy want to dance. As it happens, my wonderful Aunt Donna sent us a link to a video of a very talented Merengue dancing dog, so we though we'd share that one with you. It sure did get all four of my feet tapping.





Now I have about an hour before bed, so I'm going to use that time to try to catch up with some of my furiends.

Thursday and I'm So Behind

I'm a little behind here.

I need to apologize to all my wonderful furiends. I haven't visited anyone at all today. I mean, I've read a few blogs where I could but I haven't so much as left a word. You know I love you all, right? And I'll catch up as soon as I can, but maybe not for another day. Our usual morning session on the web got cut short and tonight's not looking good either. That kind of thing happens from time to time and I'd be catching up with everyone instead of posting this Blog Mom culpa, but there are major events that have passed by while I was kept from my blogging duties.

This morning I did just get a chance to read that it's National Dog Day, which I didn't know was a thing at all. Thank you, Mayzie. If not for furiends I wouldn't know anything at all, I think. Of course, the day's about over now, but I sure hope everydog had a great one. Mine was so-so. To tell the truth I'm a little off my feed, which is making the Moms and Daddy just a tad nervous and that's part of the reason that I've had trouble getting online. They're too busy watching me and worrying  to keep up with everything they need to be doing. Like helping me blog, for instance.

There was another very impawtent event that I did not post about at the proper time, which was yesterday. It was Alpha Mom's birthday! She turned 385 in standard dog years yesterday, August 25th. We didn't forget her birthday. In fact, Franklin and I got her a netbook and she really likes it. ...Oh, OK, I'll tell the truth. We didn't buy it all by ourselves. The kitties chipped in, too, but only a little. But I think that it's only right to say a formal Happy Birthday to one of the best Moms in the whole world here on my blog. So, better late than never.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, ALPHA MOM! 

with love from me, Lola

Speak, Franklin!

Hi everyone! My big sister Lola says that it was one month ago today, August 10th that my unfortunate incarceration ended and I joined the family. She also says I should write this post (almost) all by myself to thank  you all for your very nice and kind welcome to me and also for being so supportive through my name changes. I do thank you really a lot. You are all  so nice and friendly and I'm real happy to meet you all. I did want to say that, but I really didn't know what else to write about. My Big Sis said that I should talk about my Gotcha Day from my point of view, so I will. I pretty much always do what she tells me. More or less.

I'm going to let you write on my blog. Please don't embarrass me.

  It was a dark and stormy day when the lady came to meet me. I'd been on the inside for over three months for the crime of having a family that was moving and couldn't keep me. OK, I know that other dogs have it a lot worse than I ever did. I don't want to be a whiner, but it still wasn't a very cool experience, you know? I do have to admit that the warden and the matrons were pretty chill peeps. They looked out for us and everything and we got time in the exercise yard  every day. Also my family couldn't provide some important medical care  that I needed and I did get that while I was on the inside. I was going out of my mind, spending so much time in that little cell, though. And that's why I could have blown the whole deal.

A month ago today I was just hanging out in my cell when one of the matrons came and told me I had company. It was the first visitor I'd had and I didn't have any idea that this was like an important interview or anything. I was just excited to be out of the cell and to meet a new person because I really like people a lot. Matron brought me into this room  where this lady was waiting and I went all crack dog.  I ran around the room - stopping to say hi to the lady every so often - like I had a firecracker up my butt. And I lifted my leg and marked everything  that wasn't moving about every 5 seconds. I'm sooo embarrassed thinking about it now. After a few minutes of this the lady left and I went back to my cell and I figured that was that. But it wasn't.

An hour or so later the same matron put a leash on me and took me outside in the pouring rain. This was getting to be a pretty strange day. Now I'm a Shar Pei and I don't usually like to go out in the rain at all, but I didn't even care. That's how desperate a dog can get for a change of pace when he's incarcerated. We were out in front of the jailhouse and that same lady got out of a car, but she wasn't alone this time. There was another lady and a beautiful lady Shar Pei with her. I was so excited to meet this Shar Pei. I don't know if she was all that thrilled. I mean, it was raining a lot. We spent some time getting to know each other. Well, really I was mostly telling her how pleased I was to meet her and she was mostly trying to stay as dry as she could, but it was still a big thrill for me. After a while I got taken back inside again and I was planning on a nap and maybe dreaming of that lady Pei, but I didn't go back to my cell. Instead, one of the ladies came inside and spent some time with the warden and then she took me outside and we got into the car. The car with the beautiful Pei.  Wowser! I did not see that coming.

I finally figured out that this was something important. This could mean I was getting what I wanted most in the world - a new pack with a pawsome big sister. It seemed too good to be true, but I didn't want to make any more mistakes. I sat real nice in the back seat of the car and just looked out the window, all casual, like this happened all the time. We got to a house and went inside and I made a point of not even looking like I was thinking of lifting a leg. And I never have. Not once. I understand "house". That room in the jail just wasn't part of a house to me.  I haven't had a really bad day since. I have two Moms, a Dad a human brother and a bass player. What more could a dog want?

I love our big back yard, but I love my Big Sis more than anything.

 My wonderful big sister Lola started teaching me things right away. The very  first life lesson she taught me was never, ever try to mount your sister, even if you're not blood relatives. Hoo boy, I never made that mistake again. She also taught me how to play and also that we play when she says we do and it's not such a great idea to try to insist when she's not feeling like it. She feels like it a lot more now than when I first got there. I guess 'cause I learned how to do it right.

Big Sis introduced me to our pawsome neighbor, Sambuca

 She's still working on me and she can be pretty strict about some things, but I don't mind that. She's so much older  wiser and more experienced than I am that I don't mind at all that she's the boss of me. Actually, everyone's the boss of me, almost. That's not so bad, though. Everyone's kind and they love me so it just makes me feel safe and taken care of.

Another thing that Lola taught me is about dog beds. I didn't know that dogs could have beds or that we needed them. Turns out they're pretty great. I have more to talk about, but it's time for me to be in my bed right now. Maybe if I didn't embarrass her too much, Lola will let me do this again some time.

Night night everybuddy.

My Little Brother's Absolutely Final (we think) New Name

I have a couple of apologies to make. Of course none of this is my doing, but it's the innocent who suffer, is it not? Firstly, we were hardly online last night so I know I missed some of my furiends' posts. I will try to catch up today. That couldn't really be helped and does happen sometimes, but I still feel badly about it.

The second thing is where I'm more than just a little embarrassed. After all the encouraging comments you left about my little brother's new name (Brookstr) they changed it again. They said it just wasn't sticking to him. I'm not sure what that means, but you have to remember that even though there are four four-leggers here my humans didn't name any of them, until my brother. They are way out of  practice in coming up with names for anyone at all. (That was my attempt to be the loyal dog that I am and to make excuses for them.) Blog Mom saw something on the TeeVee last night and had an "inspiration". And everyone liked it. Even my little brother is showing early signs that he'll answer to it. So, without further ado, my little brother will henceforth be named Franklin. (You better be sure this time, Mom. I'm telling all my furiends - again.)

So, what was the inspiration, you might ask? Was it something on the History Channel about Benjamin Franklin who was so impawtent he's on some of our best green papers? No. Franklin D. Roosevelt, who was elected president about 100 times? No. My human brother was home and was catching up on episodes of True Blood that he'd missed, and there's a new vampire this season named Franklin. Now Blog Mom says that it's not that she's naming my little brother after a vampire who is kind of crazy even for the undead. It's just that the name sounded right. However, she does see a resemblance.

Not a vampire

Vampire

I don't really see it myself, except that in the show Franklin's eyes are kind of red rimmed a lot and my poor brother basically had his lower eyelids removed in a very drastic surgery for his Entropion and will probably always look like he's very, very hung over.

All of this was almost a moot point as we thought we lost him last night. Someone - I'm not naming any names (Daddy) wasn't careful when opening the front door and he shot right out. These humans are not used to having a doggy who does that. Not since they had labradogs, they said, and that was many years ago. So all hell broke loose. Everyone was running around looking for him. It was very dark and no one could see him. They were all yelling at each other to get flashlight and a leash. No one thought of putting me on a leash and letting me find him, which I would have, right away. Anyhoo, all of a sudden they saw him down the block, under a street light just ambling around. He didn't try to run away when they got to him. He seemed quite pleased that everyone had come out to join him on his evening ramble. All of this only took a few minutes but everyone got some more gray hair because of it. Now they have to learn how to train him not to do that,  and they have to train Daddy to always be extra careful in the meantime.

Let's Go Mets

I'm starting out the holiday weekend by helping the humans root for the Mets. Daddy and I like to watch the games. Well, I might sleep through some of the very long ones, but then, so does Daddy, sometimes.

Tonight my human brother is here. He's having a night off. His friend is here, too and Daddy and the Moms and we're all watching baseball. That's a pretty pawfect evening and a great start to the weekend. Plus our team is winning, at least so far. Probably because of the support they're getting from me, Lola.

All About Us

Lots and lots of furiends have done this quiz by now. Too many to list here, I think. I figured I'd better get on it now, and then there was some discussion as to whether the cats were going to do it, too. The blog is called Pei Days, not Pei and Kitteh Days, but the majority ruled in this case and we're all doing it at once.

This is our life

THE BASICS

Name and Age: 
Lola, 7ish years old. I could definitely pass for 5.

Simone: 12 or 13, we think

Happy: Could be about 7. No one really knows.

Breed: 
 Lola: Chinese Shar Pei

Simone: Domestic Short Hair mix of some sort

Happy: Domestic Short Hair mix of some slightly fluffier sort

Nickname(s):
Lola: Good Girl, Baby, Sweetie, Sweetie Pei, Beautiful Girl, Woojy Boojy Boo Boo Lovey Doggy, assorted others

Simone: Simoney Woney (Daddy only), Psycho Cat, The Evil One - Those last two aren't used quite so much lately, as she's either mellowed, stabilized or is just getting old, but are listed here for historical value.

Happy: Hapster, Captain Happy, Happles, Hapless, Doofus

The picture of feline grace - not so much

 Where’d ya come from?

Lola: Brooklyn, most recently graduating from the Sean Casey Animal Rescue

Simone: The people with the bouncy bulldogs

Happy: The eviction next door

Favorites 

Toy 

Lola: Right now I'm enjoying working with a rawhide chewy. I chase it around a bit, capture it and only chew it briefly, so it  lasts quite some time. Of course, you can't go wrong with a tennis ball either.

Simone: She likes to play with things that are dangled for her, except for anything that's purchased for that express purpose. Those things, she just ignores. Also likes long stringy things that pose a danger to her insides.

Happy: Not big on toys. Eat. Sleep.Eat. Go in and out. Eat.

Snack:

Lola: Cheese!!!

Simone: Whipped cream

Happy: Whipped cream with a salmon chaser

Human Person:


Lola: What an undiplomatic question. Well, if I must. Alpha Mom is called "Alpha" for a reason. 'Nuff said? I do have very close and individual  relationships with each of my humans. There's plenty of Lola love to go around.

Simone: Daddy

Happy: Daddy.

We call Daddy the cat whisperer.

FUNNY STUFF

Worst Habit: 
Lola: I don't have bad habits. There are a couple of areas of legitimate disagreement between the humans and myself, such as the optimal speed for a walkie, but my speed towing is not a habit. It's a choice. Same goes for my early rising. That's a lifestyle choice that I make for myself and Alpha Mom. And the picky eating thing? Just being a matter of taste is all. Nope, no bad habits that I can think of.

Simone: Shredding. Furniture and occasionally flesh. Thank Dog her aim is getting worse and she's slowing down a bit. Doesn't help the furniture, which is a lost cause anyway, but it's much safer for the rest of us.

Tortitude - she's got it.

Happy: Well that in and out and out and in thing that he does every night is a bit annoying to everyone, but get this - after he's asked to out for the zillionth time the humans kind of stop jumping right up when he meows. So, he starts scratching. We all assumed he was scratching at the door and no harm seemed to be done. After all, who doesn't scratch at the door once in a while? I think we all do that sometimes. Well, they just recently noticed that it wasn't the door at all. It was molding around a doorway NEAR the door and he's just about destroyed it. Everyone was pretty surprised that a cat could even do that.

Most Embarassing Moment

Lola: I don't really have a lot of those. I'm not what you'd call a goofy doggie. But there was that time when I yelled at a doggie (in retrospect, a rather small doggie) who I assumed was bothering my neighbor Sambuca. It turned out that he was a friend of hers. A quite barky friend, but there was no threat. Go know.

Simone: She doesn't do embarrassment. She's got tortitude.

Happy: Well, just off the top of my head, there was the time last week when he fell off the kitchen table. For no apparent reason. And then he did it again the next day. You know what? They don't always land on all fours after all.


Family dynamic (this is a question for those of you with more than one animal in the house. i.e. who is alpha? who is the cuddler? who is the naughty one? etc. I just want to know how you fit into the family!)

We are all alphas in our own minds. We're a bit cautious about each of the others, too. I'm the only dog at the moment and I'm not terribly hierarchical anyway. It's live and let live as far as I'm concerned. Simone is a tortie. She feels she was born to be an alpha. Then there's Happy. He doesn't care about being alpha, I don't think, but like anyone, he's not crazy about being pushed around. As he's entered the prime of his life and Simone has gotten her AARP card, he's getting to be the one who stays on the table with the food on those days when they aren't into sharing space. She probably should have been nicer to him when he joined the family. On the other paw, she still rules Daddy and Blog Mom's bed.

Now I have to say that we're all cuddlers in our different ways, but never, ever with each other. We cuddle with humans. I'm never naughty. As to the kitties, I'll let the shredded furniture and molding speak for itself

Your humans’ FAVORITE thing about you!:

Lola: Well, that's hard to say. Is it my impeccable house manners and the peace of mind that my humans enjoy because of them? Or is it my sweet and loving disposition and mostly calm temperment? Or could it be the intelligence that helps me to be a true companion so they  know they can not only tell me anything, I'll give them good advice, too? I think it's the disposition that they love best, although really I'm a total package, so it's hard to say.

Simone:  Blog Mom and Daddy like the way she snuggles, especially when she sleeps with them at night. She licks their hands, too. They like that and after all, I can't be everywhere at once.

Happy: He might not be the Einstein of the feline world, but he's really quite a nice cat. Blog Mom also thinks he has a pawticularly pretty face and handsome whiskers, but that's kind of superficial, isn't it?

Happy Father's Day

I want to wish a happy Father's Day all the Dads out there, especially my Daddy. I've only had him for just over a year, but I have to say he's worked out very well. Mainly he just loves, loves, loves me, so of course, I love him back. He gives me treats when I want them, even if I don't ask. He'll give me the food right off his plate if I look at him right. If he goes out to eat he always brings home a doggie bag. He can give a great belly rub and he never minds when I wake him up, even if he's not feeling very well. We spend a lot of time together while the Moms are at work and he lets me know how much he appreciates my companionship and vice versa, of course.

In the interest of full disclosure, I have to admit he's also a devoted kitty Daddy.  I just feel he probably loves me best, but I can't actually prove that. We all got him pressies and cards. I'm pretty sure he's going to like them. I got him a pawsome Mets shirt and the kitties got summer weight plaid lounging around the house and/or sleep pants with the Mets logo on them. Both are in more subtle tones than the screaming orange and blue of the more traditional Metswear while still retaining their essential Metsness. Blog Mom functioned as our personal shopper and I think she did pretty well. To celebrate the day here on the blog I thought I'd put up a small photo tribute to Daddy.

Simone and Daddy

Happy and Daddy

Do you notice a certain similarity of theme here? Daddy is first come, first served when it comes to providing a sleep surface for kitties. There's a bit of competition to see who can get on him first when he looks like he's settled down for a while.

Me, telling Daddy I love him

So, that's Daddy in a nutshell and that's why I hope he'll have the best Father's Day ever. And I hope the same for all your Daddies, too.

The Poop on Horse Poop and other questions

Firstly, this is not a real post. If it were a real post there would probably be at least one picture. My last post raised a few questions and I wanted to respond to them.  I noticed that a lot of pawple try different ways to do that. I'm thinking  new post just for that might be the easiest way.

How did you get a horse brother? 
I believe it was Twix who asked how Sarge came to be my brother. Well, he was there when I got here. Alpha Mom is crazy about horses and from what I'm told always has been, ever since she was a tiny little girl, back in the middle of the last century. That's like hundreds of years ago. Somewhere during her adult life she decided that if she really, really wanted her own horse she could make it happen. So she did and she's had a horse ever since. We are not a pawticularly affluent family, at least by American standards, so while Sarge may very well retire someday, Alpha Mom probably won't be able to thanks to her equine habit, but it's worth it to her and that's what matters.

What's the deal with all that horse poop, you lucky dog?
Most of the other questions related to the popular subject of horse poop. Yes, I suppose that I do have access to a wealth of horse poop. Sarge alone could make enough in one day for us all to have a little of our own. I would love to send some to each of you, but apparently there is a question of how the Postal Service would take it. Some seem to think that they might take it as a federal offense. Silly Postal Service. But no, I don't roll in it. I just enjoy the scent in the air. The reason is that the slightest little roll in the poop and I'll find myself having an extra bath. So would any of you, as Mayzie so famously discovered. Now some would find it worth it, but I am a Shar Pei and we don't like baths. At all. We hate them so very much. Even Hero, who thinks nothing of taking a swim in the ocean or the rushing rapids does not like baths, so there you go.

I've Been Abandoned!

I am despondent. Please don't mistake the photo above for a  comfy afternoon nap. That is me sinking into a black hole of despair.(Ok, there might be a little napping going on there.) I've been left behind. Alpha Mom left early this morning  and won't be back for 672 days more than 24 more hours. The only ones left here are me, the two cats, Blog Mom, Daddy, my human brother and the foster bass player. The house seems so EMPTY! This is going to upset my night time sleeping schedule quite a bit, too. The normal routine is  that right after my evening nap is over Alpha Mom and I go up to bed. I sleep in her bed for a couple of hours or so and then I spend the rest of the night in my own bed. The one that's in her room. I have three, actually. One downstairs and two upstairs. I'm kind of a collector.  Now I know that Daddy and Blog Mom would be delighted for me to sleep in their bed, but it's kind of Simone's territory.

I don't think she'd think that four's company, do you? And I'm just not sure I want to cross her. Soooo....I guess either Blog Mom or Daddy will have to sleep on the couch while I try to struggle through on the loveseat and/or my bed. I hope Alpha Mom is satisfied if I end up with bags under my eyes tomorrow.

Cats! Part Deaux

It's about time I finished introducing my cats. When we left the subject of our family felines Simone was living happily ever after with Stevie, and only incidentally, Blog Mom and Daddy. The only fly in that ointment is that there is no "ever after" in real life. Things change in good ways and bad ways and just in ways, all the time. One way that things changed was that Happy joined the family. He had already been named. He certainly wasn't happy when he joined this family.

Happy in a more characteristic pose

Happy was a victim of a landlord/tenant problem. One of the neighbors had been renting an apartment in his house and then he had to sell in a hurry and the tenants had to go, also in a hurry. Seems they forgot to pack the cat and Happy was left behind and considerably traumatized by this abandonment. That's not hard to understand.

Of course, once my family found out about it Happy was invited to stay with us. Or ,rather, them. These events predate my arrival by a couple of years, at least. He didn't want to come in for the longest time. He liked people, but was terrified by other four leggers of all types. If Happy had been listed on Petfinders it would have said that he'd prefer to be an only pet. The only thing is, with the number of cats available for adoption at any given time, and Happy being a gray tabby - not exactly a rarity - it was thought that he might be better off learning to adjust than to take his chances at the local shelter.

They let him stay in the garage and fed him there for a while, but Alpha Mom took him to the Vet for a check-up, shots and a neutering right away. Seems his original people had forgotten to do that, too, and he was left free to roam around the neighborhood creating more homeless kitties. After a time the humans here decided that the garage thing wasn't working out so well. It was constantly filled with other cats, most of whom had homes of their own, and they were eating Happy's food up. He was getting skinnier and skinnier. They insisted that he had to at least eat inside. He did and gradually got used to things like soft furniture and warmth on cold days and such and got big and plump and healthy.

Here's what Happy is -confused. Since he was outside for a long time he's allowed out when he asks. He just pretty much stays around the yard anyway. He has a strong urge to go out at night, too. As soon as it's dark he starts asking to go and will get kind of crazy if someone doesn't let him right out. The thing is, he's neutered. He doesn't need to hunt. He doesn't really know why he's out there once he's let out. So as soon as the door is opened again he comes back and has a bite to eat. And then he starts yowling and insisting that he must go out again. With the amount of coming and going in this house that whole process gets repeated at least five different times during the evening.  It's fairly entertaining, actually.

 Simone, of course, wasn't happy about Happy joining the household. She isn't exactly a "more the merrier' type. She tried to say she wasn't having it, but found out that she didn't quite have that kind of authority. She had to adjust, of course, but she's still probably less than thrilled about the whole thing. Stevie didn't mind. He never really minded anything. He didn't mind my arrival either. The others did, of course. But they had to adjust to that, too. Now, with the exception of an occasional brutal attempted attack on me, we're rubbing along all right, I think.

Peaceful Weekend

I want to thank all of you for your kind comments. Of course, the thing of it is that we miss YOU when we can't keep up. It's just not the same if we don't know just what you've all been up to. You make us smile and amaze us and sometimes we have to worry for someone, but in any case, if we're not in touch it doesn't feel right.

Us, we weren't up to all that much this weekend, but that wasn't all bad. Daddy felt quite well on Saturday and he and Blog Mom went out to the store. Alpha Mom and I had a nice morning until it was time for the groomer and my bath. There's some upheaval there, I have to tell you. A couple of weeks ago I had a week off from the dreaded bath because, according the alpha groomer, they had a "family thing" and were closing the shop. Well, when we went back the next week it was entirely different people running the place. It had been sold! It was a little upsetting because even though I hate baths, I rather liked the people, but I'm always up for meeting new people and the new people running the place seem to be very nice young women. They also have a Golden Retriever on staff, helping out with receptionist duties so I have to like their hiring practices. We'll see how it goes, but I do have to mention that they neglected to put a new bandana on me this week. It's not that I lack for bandanas, but it's just a nice touch. In other woofs, the jury is still out and I still hate baths.

Today, Daddy was sleeping a lot. That usually means he doesn't feel so great. I try to help out be licking him awake whenever I feel he's been sleeping too long. He seems to appreciate it. It was a beautiful day, just like yesterday, but Blog Mom felt she needed to stay close to home, so she and I spent some time together in the back yard. She felt bad about the lack of new pictures and was hobbling around on her lame foot with the flashy beast hoping I'd do something that looked different from the ten zillion pictures that we already have of me in the self same yard. It was kind of pathetic.

Because here's the thing - I generally do the same thing back there every day. First I check for birds and/or squirrels to chase and chase them as needed. Then I check the perimeter. Just in case.

I sniff around in case anything is new. Nothing much was new today. Not since yesterday. If  nothing interesting is doing in the adjacent yards, that's pretty much it until I get bored. Then I either go inside or nap out in back depending on the weather and my inclination. I declined to play ball. I just wasn't in the mood for that, plus I really prefer to have the human do the fetching. I just like to get hold of the ball and kill it and then kind of fling it and run back to the human sans ball. Then the human goes and fetches the ball and we do the whole thing over again. Let's face it. Blog Mom was in no shape to fetch. So I suggested that we just have some face time. I'd lend her an ear if she wanted to talk.

So we chatted a little. Not about anything really. Just companionable conversation, you know. 

We shared a few laughs.

There's really nothing that beats good company to put things in perspective. If I do say so myself

I've Been a Bad Blogger

During this past week or so I have been a terrible blogger and in the last day or so, I've even fallen behind with some furiends' blogs. I hope to catch up some this weekend. Blog Mom says it's been rather fraught here lately. "Fraught" is a word she tends to use at the times when her face gets all tense and things are going wrong. Things this time around involve going to human vets a lot, mostly with Daddy. Plus she hasn't got her lame foot fixed yet, because the foot vet is waiting for approval from the insurance company. So far he only got approval to look at it.

Then there were the plumbing problems. Humans absolutely require a lot more plumbing than we dogs do. All this has resulted not only in a lack of blog posts, but also a bit of a dirth of new pictures of me, Lola. I'm putting in an older one so you won't forget what I look like.

Me, when people had time to take my picture

Some of this, of course, is to be expected when you adopt older and special needs humans. If Daddy had been on Petfinders he would have had one of those little hearts under his name.Thank Dog that Alpha Mom is still in pretty good shape. I don't regret it a bit, though. Older and special needs humans need dogs at least as much as younger humans do. Someone has to do it, and they show their appreciation every day, even though you really can't tell it by our recent blogging frequency.

Happy Mother's Day

Happy Mother's Day to all the Moms - Whether you're Human, Doggie, Kitty, Bunny, Gecko or even Squirrels - Here's to Moms of all species!

Oh, and speaking of Moms, Simone is so on Blog Mom's list - and not a good list, either if you get my drift. Blog Mom has been saying to everyone how Simone has mellowed lately and become such a nice, mentally stable kitty. And it's true, she has been much more pleasant. Except this morning she was sitting on Blog Mom's lap while they checked e-mail and I was just passing by on the way to my bed. It was time for my morning nap, you see. I didn't even glance Simone's way. I wish we could all be closer, but the truth is the cats and I generally confine ourselves to a stiff nod if we must pass in the hall or on the stairs. Otherwise we just ignore each other. That's their choice and not my idea of how families should interact. So I was just passing by, thinking no thoughts about a pussycat whatever. Simone got all stiff and hissy and Blog Mom told her to knock it off, but she paid no attention and took a swipe at me, claws out, too. Attacked me, in other words. She missed, but Blog Mom is so disappointed in her she said. That's the worst - when they're disappointed in you. Simone knows it, too, because she's been sitting on Blog Mom most evenings since this big personality improvement she was supposed to have had. Not tonight. She's over on Daddy who wasn't in the room for the brutal attempted assault.

Blog Mom says if Simone keeps it up she just might reconsider the idea of getting me a little brother. She says that one of the reasons they, so far, have decided not to is because these cats are not fond of dogs and I don't bother them. I think Blog Mom's thinking is along the lines of "If you're going to hiss and scratch maybe you need something to hiss and scratch about."  I doubt if Blog Mom will go through with it. I'm pretty much using up the canine portion of the family budget very nicely, for one thing. I'm not sure how I feel about it myself. I like company, but I have it awfully good being the one and only dog, but I think it's good if Simone contemplates the possibility and develops a little appreciation of....well....of me, Lola.

Blogging Might Be Slow For a Few Days

I just wanted to let my furiends know that we might experience some blogging and commenting delays for a while. Blog Mom has gone lame! Yes, JUST like a horse.She had an x-ray and she's got bone spurs. She's waiting for a referral to an appropriate vet.

Why in the world would this slow down blogging, you ask? Does she blog with her feet? She doesn't, but that would be something to see.  Well, at first, it didn't affect our more sedentary activities. Not really. This has been coming on for a while. But as the pain has gotten worse, Blog Mom has become less useful in all areas of life. As of this evening she has taken to spending a fair amount of time lying about on the couch, moaning and whining. It's times like this that you really have to feel sorry for two-leggers. It's not so easy for them to just pick up one leg and go about their business with what's leftover as we so often can. I've put my nurse's hat back on and I feel that my special "I know you don't feel good" licks have been some help. At least we can put this post up.

In between bouts of dramatics, we'll attempt to visit as usual, but I doubt we'll be able to visit everywhere in a timely manner until we've cleared this up somewhat..

Cats! Simone, An Introduction

I think it must be Caturday on Monday. Mayzie has a hilarious and adorable post up about her bonding process with her other brudder, Ripley who is a pirate cat, I believe. Meantime, I've been working on a couple of posts about my sister and brother cats here. I have to admit I've given them short shrift in this space. There's a reason for that. They don't really like me. They might feel they have their reasons, but they're rooted in prejudice and stereotyping. I have certainly been nothing but pleasant to them. Pleasant and a little careful. Still, we're all family now, and they don't really ever hiss at me anymore, so I guess they are entitled to be featured on my blog from time to time. Tonight is all about Simone, who is the senior pet in the house, both in age and years on the job. She is, however, not the boss of me. Let's keep that straight.

Most of the four leggers (and a few of the two leggers, as well) who have lived in this house have been rescue animals of one sort or another. No one here can recall ever going to a store or a breeder and buying a pet. Even taking the step of going out to a rescue organization and formally adopting, as in my case, was an exception.  Blog Mom says that if she ever feels a cat shortage coming on she can just leave the door open for a while and a new cat will appear.  Simone, however, was a rescue cat only in her own mind. Most of her story took place before my time here. Some of it even took place before I was ever born. Simone is about 12 years old now.

Her first home was with another branch of the family and if things had worked out differently she'd have been my kitty cousin or something like that. She went to live with her first humans as a small kitten, at a time when they were in an apartment where it was impractical for them to have a dog. They adopted a second cat after her and the two of them got on just fine and all was well because they didn't know a thing about their other sister.

 The other sister was Rosie. Rosie was living with Blog Mom and Daddy, temporarily (3 years) until such time as it was once again possible for her to live with her own humans. That day finally came and boy was Simone suprised. And pissed off. The other kitty was more able to roll with the punches, but Simone got all stressed out. Part of the problem was that, being an English Bulldog, Rosie wasn't easily discouraged from things. So if Simone didn't want to get acquainted, Rosie wasn't going to take a hint. She was also almost impervious to pain, so the fact that Simone had all her claws didn't even slow her down. Not that she was real fast anyway. By the time Rosie went to live with Simone she was pretty old for a bulldog and it wasn't all that long before she went to the Rainbow Bridge. Rosie, I'm told, was very sweet and had not a mean bone in her whole body and everyone was very sad to lose her. Except for Simone, who was doing the happy dance, practically on poor Rosie's grave. It was in poor taste is what it was. It also indicated a certain lack of imagination because apparently what happened next was something Simone never thought of. What happened next was Roxie:

Yes, there was a new arrival at Simone's place and it was a bouncing baby bulldog. And when they said bouncing, they meant it. I supposed Simone would have given a few important teeth to have old Rosie back after a few  months of Roxie. The other kitty continued go with the flow while seeking and finding higher and higher ground. Simone lost a few small patches of fur due to stress. Finally, fate intervened in the guise of yet another housing dilemma for Simone's humans. This one brought the entire menagerie, humans included, to stay here at this house for a little while. (5 years). When that happened, Simone's  heretofore tolerant sister kitty finally found an animal so frightening and monstrous that she simply could not co-exist with him. Who was this beast, you ask?

It was Stevie Ray Cat, beloved by all my humans and a buddy of Daddy in pawticular. My human brother found Stevie as a tiny kitten, seeking refuge in our garage. Eventually Daddy coaxed him into moving into the house and he and Daddy hung out together for the rest of Stevie's life, which was about 14 years. Stevie was still here when I moved in. In fact, it was partly because of Stevie that I got chosen instead of the younger Shar Pei that the Moms met when they got me. Stevie had cancer and the vet said he only had a few more months and they wanted to be sure that the new dog would not be a trouble to him. I didn't disappoint. If he'd lived, I'm pretty sure we would have been friends. He didn't seem to mind dogs, or much of anything. They said he was always that way. If a dog or other cat got up in his face (which I never would, by the way) he'd just go all Zen and stare back, but in a peaceful, non-confrontational sort of way. He didn't run away and he didn't fight or get mad either. And it usually worked, but not with Simone's sis. It just got worse and worse and it got so Stevie couldn't even walk into his own kitchen to have dinner without being attacked by psycho cat. To make matters worse from angry kitty's point of view, Simone thought Stevie was great. They hit it off extremely well.

Well, Daddy and Blog Mom couldn't see Stevie being persecuted in his own home and eventually a decision was made to separate the animals. Simone saw her big chance and without much of a backwards glance, chose to consider herself a member of Stevie's family group rather than the one she'd arrived with. And that's the way it stayed. For years, Simone and Stevie hung out together and developed a routine. They'd play really early in the morning, running around like wildcats. That was all Simone's idea. Stevie had never been much for playing, even as a kitten, perhaps due to his traumatic start in life. But Simone brought out his inner kitten in the wee hours of the morning and then they napped and hung around thinking kitty thoughts for the rest of the day, very happily. Oh, and Simone's bare spots filled in very nicely.

Coming soon: Even Simone has to make adjustments.

He's Home!

I might be able to be back later, but for now I had to put my nurse's cap back on and see to Daddy. I sniffed him and snuffled him  and his overnight bag, and even the plastic bracelets that he wasn't wearing when he left here last Saturday, and checked out everything he'd been doing all week. Lots of weird smells there, but underneath them it's definitely Daddy.  I applied prodigious licks which he very much appreciated. Now I have to watch him because Blog Mom has to go back out and pick lots and lots of medicines the doctor ordered for him. I don't know if there's enough cheese in this town to get all those down.

A Happy Song and a Sad

Well it took all day to get on the computer, and I'm not even on the right one, but that's a whole other story. When I logged on I saw this wonderful post at Bolo's blog. A song for me, Lola. If it's OK with him I'm going to copy it and put it on a keepsake page, which I just decided I need to have. That was such a gallant gesture. It just makes a bitch feel really special, you know what I mean?  Thank you so much Bolo. I needed that, because here comes the sad in the next paragraph.

My Daddy is in the hospital. He just had a regular vet appointment this morning. He has lots of those. Blog Mom thought he didn't seem totally well so she decided to drive him there and he lost something called consciousness while he was there and apparently no one could find it. The vet called an ambulance to take him to the hospital and that's where he'll be, probably for a couple of days while they do lots and lots of tests on him. So, if in the next few days I don't always get around to visit everyone, that's probably why. I'll try to keep you updated when I can. I'm going to try to catch up with as many friends as I can right now.