Thoughts on Middle Age

I recently turned the big "7." I can feel my age now and then; I move a little more slowly when I first get up from one of my delicious naps. I need to stretch a bit more to get all the parts moving.

Of course, I can't let my humans see me slowing down. It just wouldn't be right. After all, I can still run fast enough to keep the ball away from them, only letting them have it when they're about to lose interest. It's not like I'm ready to join the AARB (Association for the Advancement of Retired Beagles) or anything like that.

Still, age does have a few benefits. I can justify sleeping longer and more often, not that I ever felt the need to justify what is my divine right as a regal Beagle. And I can get away with claiming more lap time from my humans.

With age also come wisdom or at least an increased ability to drive my humans crazy. Lately, I've taken to staring at my humans and also pacing by the back door in an attempt to be let outside. What makes this more fun is doing these things just a few minutes after coming back in from the previous trip outdoors. This is also a great game to play when your humans are in the middle of doing something, especially if you can it seem urgent that you be let out at that very moment.

I've heard humans say a mind is a terrible thing to waste, but a devious mind is a wonderful thing to employ and enjoy.

Bark. Bark. Growl.

Ollie's Big Adventure

This week, I got a taste of some real freedom. Thanks to the fact that the fence around my humans' house is almost falling down in spots (no one seems to know who the fence belongs to, which is great for me), I found a spot to squeeze through, and I was gone.

Ah, the new sights and new scents! So much to see; so much to smell. Unfortunately for me, when I escaped our yard and got through a neighbor's yard, I turned the wrong way and ended up at the end of a dead-end street. So I couldn't make a complete getaway.

When my female human discovered I'd broken out, I guess she was worried because she came running. She was so cute; she seemed so worried when she spotted me. Not that I was. I was having too much fun.

However, I was at the end of a road, and I didn't feel like trying to crawl through plant life and who knows what to get somewhere else. So when my female human called for me, I swallowed my pride and my desire for freedom and adventure and came running. If I'd known how much she was going to carry on afterward about the fact that I came back, I probably would have thought twice about doing so.

I probably would have still come back, though, at least this time. My male human takes pretty good care of me; he feeds me and gives me water. Plus, he would probably miss not being able to pet me or have me sleep in his lap. And it's not like I can get room service just anywhere.

But now that I've had a small taste of freedom, the attraction is strong. One day, not even the promise of a treat may be enough to bring me back. So they might want to think about fixing the fence, regardless of whose it is.

Bark. Bark. Growl.

One Human's Odor is Another Dog's Cologne

Tonight was bath night. Yuck! My lady human said I stink. I think that's another way of saying I smell too good for the rest of them.

My male human never said anything, but he accepts me as I am, Eau de Backyard and all.

Anyway, my lady human has to resort to underhanded tricks to get me into the tub. She use treats to lure me and distracts me with the wonderful aroma of those little beagle bites. Then, when she has me in the room where the tub is, she closes the door. No escape! At least she lets me have the treats.

What is really devious about all of this is that she lures me into that room at other times and doesn't give me a bath. Then, after I've let my guard down, splish, splash, I am taking a bath.

I hate baths. They mess up my perfectly coiffed fur and take away the smells that make me the Beagle I am. Once I get out of the tub, I could be any dog, even a Poodle or a Pekingese *shudder*. Talk about useless. But that's a topic for another day.

I got my revenge, though. Once I escaped from the tub, I rolled on the carpet everywhere I could and left behind nice wet spots up and down the hallway. When they step in them, it's almost like stepping in you know what. It's almost as much fun as the time I used their bed as a toilet. Now that's my kind of fun!

Bark. Bark. Growl.

Updates and Observations

I haven't had much to say lately. My humans haven't done a lot lately (they're kind of boring sometimes, to tell the truth), so there hasn't been a whole lot to blog about.

My humans recently got me a new doghouse on wheels. It's newer and nicer than the last one, and it has nice big windows I can look out of all day. When I'm not sleeping that is. So far, we've only gone out of town with it once, but that was a lot of fun.

As I get older, I become more aware of just how easily humans are amused. For instance, my lady human is all excited because she "taught" me to shake and lay down. Heck, I lay down all day anyway, and if I can get a treat for doing what comes naturally just because she says "lay down" I am all over that.

I'll admit that learning to shake was a little more challenging. Being right-pawed, I only shake with that paw. If I were ambipawterous, or if there was the potential for increasing the treat intake, I might try harder to learn to shake left-pawed, but she seems happy, and I get treats for little work, so it seems like a win-win situation.

Hopefully my humans will get off their tails and start doing more stuff with me so I have more to write about. It's hard to type with these paws (try it sometime), so I want it to be worthwhile. Regardless, I'll certainly be back next month (if not sooner). It's my birthday, and I'm hoping for lots of treats and other goodies (hint, hint). I also know we have a birthday trip planned (they're calling it Labor Day, whatever that is, but I know better), so I hope to have something to report from that.

Hey! You know why cats have nine lives? Because the first eight are so boring, they keep coming back trying to get it right.

Bark. Bark. Growl.

What a Dog's Gotta Do

Sometimes, a dog's just gotta show their humans what's really important. That is to say, show the humans just who's boss.

Yesterday, my human was sort of running on this big round black thing, but he wasn't going anywhere. And he certainly wasn't giving me the attention due me as a regal member of the canine community.

Since he wasn't going anywhere, I figured he might as well spend some of that energy lavishing attention on me. But, humans being humans, he needed a little nudge, a not-so-subtle hint that his energies would be better spent elsewhere. That is to say on me.

Here I am. Of course, it doesn't
pay to look too interested.

So I took the plunge. Needless to say, I was a bit nervous about getting up on the round black thing. But, as they say, nothing ventured, nothing gained. So up I went.

Of course, once I was up on the round black thing, my human had to get off since he couldn't run while I was there. And that was the whole point.

Luckily, my human is pretty smart, at least as humans go. He got the hint, sat down on the floor, and began ministering to me. I rewarded him by allowing him to pet me and then, to show my appreciation of his efforts, by licking his hand.

Some might think I was being a bit shameless by being so blatant in my approach. But you know what they say. Sometimes a dog's gotta do what a dog's gotta do.

Bark. Bark. Howl.

My Kind of Fun

Ah, the weekend! Nothing like a little time in the sun, a little food, and a little game of keep-away from my human. You can take a look here: 
Of course, I have to let my humans have the ball once in a while, or they lose interest. So, I let them think they're taking the ball away from me. Then I howl so they'll know to give it back, and we start all over again.

Playing keep-away with my humans is fun - for a little while. Eventually, though, I get tired of the game. Then it's time for a little snooze, unless of course there is food to be had. Nothing perks me up like a little snack. Maybe I can get them to serve me on the veranda, whatever that is.

Bark. Bark. Howl.

The Other Dog

Lately, my human hasn't been home as much as he used to be, and I'm getting a little suspicious. I can't prove anything, but I suspect he's got another dog on the side.

It's late when he gets home, and he's usually too tired to do anything except rub my belly a little and maybe throw the ball once or twice. He doesn't seem to have the energy to chase me when I'm keeping the ball away from him (my favorite game).

I hear the other humans talk about him working so much, but I think he's been cheating on me. After all, I don't see any new treats or toys for me. If he's working extra, where the proof?

So far, I can't prove anything. I sniff every night when he gets home, trying to catch a scent of "the other dog," but so far, nothing. But I know it's out there somewhere.

Regardless of whether it's another beagle, a collie, or, Dog forbid, a poodle, I can wait. Sooner or later, he'll come to his senses and remember whose human he is. When that time comes, I'll be waiting to play keep away or maybe just to lay in his lap. He seems to like that.

Freedom!

I got to ride in the big truck the other day, and we had the big white house on wheels behind us. That meant we were going somewhere. Yippee!

I didn't know where we were going, but I didn't care. I just knew there would be new things to sniff, new things to see, new territories to mark.

My human nearly got us in an accident when he almost hit some other human stopped in the middle of the road. If I could have gotten out, I'd have gone and given him a piece of my mind. And, before you ask, yes beagles have minds. We just don't mind all the time. That's a little beagle pun, by the way.

My stay here so far has not been as much fun as I'd hoped it would be. We've spent most of our time inside, but I can't blame my human too much. It has been windy and wet, and I don't care much for water except to drink it once in a while.

Still, I did get to go out and about a few times so i could say hello to the neighbors. Most of them aren't of the same social class, but one must be polite. Even a mutt has feelings, I guess.

My human has promised if the weather gets better he'll take me for a nice long walk. That would be divine. There'd be plenty to see and sniff, and afterward, I could take a nice long nap. A beagle's life can be pretty good sometimes.

Bark. Bark. Howl.

They Eat This Stuff?

My human's been working a lot lately, which means he's had less time to serve as a lumpy pillow for me to lay on. He also hasn't been around much for me to play keep-away with.

That means my human's mate has been busier around the house. That means things sometimes get missed. Like closing the pantry door, lucky for me.

When my human or his family leave the pantry door open, I feel like I've hit the mother lode. Sometimes, I'll find some yummy bread to eat, or a potato to gnaw on. Once, my human left some chocolate with some white stuff in it on his desk where I could  get to it. Man, was that tasty! I wish he'd do that again.

Today, though, was payback. The pantry door was left open all day, and me with the house to myself. Being a beagle, of course I had to check it out. Inquiring minds, you know.

Well, I found a box full of packets of stuff that looked like something I could sink my teeth into. So I tore into a packet, and it spilled out onto the floor. So I tried again. And again. After tearing into a bunch of packets and having them all spill out like sand, I gave up. It wasn't worth the effort. [EDITOR'S NOTE: For the record, it was seven or eight packets of instant oatmeal.]

I don't know what my humans see in this stuff. You can't chew it. And even when you can eat some of it, you end up being thirsty because you've just eaten sand or something like it. Give me something with crunch to it any day of the week.

All that effort for no return, I think I'll take a nap.

Bark. Bark. Howl.

What Were They Thinking?

It was nice and sunny yesterday, a great day for a walk. I needed to get outside, I was restless, and I was hoping my human or his mate would take the hint.

But humans can be a little, shall we say, clueless sometimes. So, instead of taking me out for a nice walk in the sunshine, they stayed inside. On a sunny day! What were they thinking?

I don't know why, but there are some days when I'm here all by myself, and some days when they are all here. Yesterday was one of those days where they didn't all leave me.

My human did leave the house for awhile, which made me sad. But my human's mate and his son stayed home. I was hopeful I might yet get my walk, but the son spent most of the day with a book, and the mate spent most of the day at the kitchen table. And she wasn't eating.

That was very unusual. She never does that. Instead of eating, she sat there with a bunch of papers and that rectangle lighted thing with that awful click-click sound. After my human came home, the mate asked him if he would help with the tack sez.

I don't know what tack sez means. All I know is that they wouldn't play with me or pet me or anything because of the stupid tack sez. I don't understand. I could tell they weren't having any fun.

Why did they choose the tack sez instead of me? I am sad. I think maybe they are too. We would all have been happier, I think, if they'd taken me for a walk instead.

Bark. Bark. Howl.

How Low Can You Get?

Recently my human's mate made some changes around the house, and I'm not happy about them at all. In fact, I'm bite the mailman mad. How can I get the rest I need to adequately protect the place when they're gone when my bed has been moved off the love seat to the FLOOR?!?

Is this how you treat a member of the family? I'm being treated like a dirty dog. I tried to show my displeasure by pretending I was asleep on the sofa and refusing to get off when she yelled at me to get down. Now there's this big black thing on the sofa, and there's no room for me to get up there. What's a beagle to do?

As if that isn't bad enough, tonight my human's mate and their son both forgot to feed me. I had to wait for my human to finally get home from work. Boy, was I glad to see him, not least of all because it meant I could finally eat. Still, I had to voice my displeasure. So I gave him an earful. I really did. I think he got the point.

You better believe I'll find a way to pay them back for disrespecting me. Maybe I'll throw up on the carpet again. I love doing that to her, especially when my human's gone. That way she has to clean it up. Then he'll get an earful from her next time when he gets home. That'll show them both who's boss.

Bark. Bark. Howl.

On The Job

Just came in a little while ago from making my security patrol around the perimeter of the back yard. While I was making my rounds, my human - I almost slipped and said the "m" word ("master" for those of you not well versed in human-canine relations) - stood at the sliding glass door, waiting I suppose for me to finish my rounds.

Seeing him standing there put extra pressure on me to hurry, but some things cannot be rushed. My human's son knows how that is. Sometimes, it takes him ten or more trips to clear the table after dinner. And does he ever drop a few crumbs for me? No! But I digress.

Securing the perimeter of our back yard is a time-consuming job. I have to check each blade of grass, sniff each clump of dirt to make sure no unwanted intruders have gotten in. Sometimes, the wind changes, which means I have to go back over some spots in case I missed anything. Occasionally, I also have to lift my leg, if you know what I mean.

Now this is not merely performance of a bodily function. No, this is part of the patrol process. It serves to mark a particular area as secure, at least until the next patrol. Occasionally, I have to chase off intruders - cats, squirrels, and the like. I suspect my humans think I'm too slow to catch any of these intruders, but I don't really want to catch. I mean, who really wants a mouthful of cat? I sure don't. Yuck! There's not enough toilet water in the world to wash out that taste.

Well, the next patrol will be coming up pretty soon, so I'd better get some rest.

Bark. Bark. Woof.

It's a Dog's Life

Here within these virtual pages, I will use my human to relate to those of you not fortunate enough to be a dog, what a dog's life is really like. Occasionally, I will share bits of canine wisdom I have gained and perhaps pose philosophical and other questions.

First, though, an introduction. My name is Oliver, and I am a six-year old, tri-color, purebred Beagle. I am a member of hound royalty, but I do not expect you to bow before me. No, seriously. Get up, you're embarrassing yourself and me.

My humans are a pretty good group, as humans go. They feed me, they let me sleep, and they occasionally let me play keep away with a tennis ball.

I think that will do for a start. This blogging stuff is hard, and I need to get some rest. I'll leave with a question that has bothered me for several months now. Humans teach us dogs how to "shake hands" with them and learn their form of greeting. Why won't they let us teach them to sniff each other's butts so they can learn ours?

Bark. Bark. Howl.