Dogster

I have a page on dogster now.... I think this goes directly to me.

A new camera!

Hm. My agent and my favorite human have purchased a new camera. It seems that there was an unfortunate incident with the old one. I don't think my agent wants to talk about it. I kind of think it was not an accident. My humans always aspire to take better photos of me.

Naturally you would expect that I would be the first subject chosen for test shots from the new camera. I was quite indignant to find out that this is not the case at all... rather, the first chosen subject was one of the dumb wolfhound children! No photos were taken of me until maybe about the 17th picture. Here is one of the earlier ones (of someone other than me).



At first I was dumbfounded. Why not take photos of the most photogenic guy in the house? Why one of those gangly teenaged kids? Well, later, when I got on the computer and saw the pictures, I realized why. When you first get a camera you will have only spotty luck taking good photos while you learn the functions. So, you don't take pictures of your best subject until you know a little bit of what you're doing.

It was not for perhaps a week that my agent asked me to model and spent some serious time getting good pictures. Unfortunately he was still learning and did not use optimal settings on the camera. Still, I like this action shot (of me).



And he has taken a few other nice ones too. This one is kind of cool. Made me a little hungry.



There are more in here.

It's HOT!

For a breed whose ancestors lived in the moutains, I have to say I am not keen on the hot weather.

Today it was at least 96 degrees outside, but it felt like much hotter than that. With my thick double coat of fur, I was a bit uncomfortable. I was outside doing my guarding duty when I realized that I just needed a break and I needed it right then. I tried to open the gate to my kennel (have I mentioned I have my own kennel now?). Alas, the humans had it rigged so I could not get out. I am going to have to inspect that more because we must be prepared to escape the kennel on a moments notice should anything threaten my realm.

Anyway, back to my story. I decided to protest the kennel and I used my most pitiful bark. Well, it worked on my favorite human. Next thing I knew I was back in the house and I had plopped myself right in front of the big fan in the kitchen. I made sure to do a litttle extra panting to lull the human into thinking she made the right decision. Little does she know I made the decision for her.

OH! I have to tell you. I have a new house! Yes, I do. It is a log cabin. It's pretty neat. Do you know what I did when I saw it? I bet you can't guess. Why, I christened it, of course! I didn't want anyone else thinking it was theirs for the taking......for example Brogan that big stupid wolfhound.

You know, I have noticed some of the puppies look like him. I wonder if that is just a coincidence?

Well, back to plopping in front of the fan. I'm hoping for a snack since the humans haven't eaten dinner yet.

-Bart-

A new chapter in the book of my life

Greeting faithful readers! It certainly has been some time since I have posted. I just don't have the time for blogging like I used to.

Let me update you on "my" life since February. First of all, I attended a show with my humans in North Carolina. I didn't get to show either one of them......but I did show a lovely lady in red and she beat out the other human in the ring that was being shown by Uncle Choupo. I got to keep the ribbons she won.

I think the judge called her "fat" (because he most certainly could not be referring to me) . My humans must have thought the judge meant me because they put me on something called a diet. This is where I am denied access to the food bins and other sources of nutrition around the kitchen.

Suffice to say, the last visit to the vet I was told that I was LOOKING GOOD. As if there was ever any doubt of that!!!

Did I tell you I had puppies? Yes! Well, not me personally, but Sabrina. I was very overjoyed at first. They were all cute and small and I loved guarding them. However, I have since discoverd a couple things. First, they aren't Estrelas. Nope. Instead they are wolfhounds. This is not good news and I was very disappointed. Second, there were ten of them! Oh my goodness, I didn't know what to do with all those puppies. They would not leave me alone! I was very put out. I will not tell you what I was doing to show my displeasure but suffice to say it made my favorite human quite unhappy.

The good news is that most of the puppies went to new homes. The bad news is that we are keeping three of them. That makes five wolfhounds in this home and only one Estrela. I am surrounded. If anyone reads this.....please send me a fellow Estrela to help out. I am pretty competent but this could be quite challenging.

We also had a tragedy in my family. I can't really talk about it. It was very sad.

There also have been some incidents that make me ashamed to be an Estrela. I don't really want to talk about those either right now. I am busy plotting.

Hope to have more time to write later, but between wolfhound duty and plotting I am mighty busy.

-Bart-

KFC Snackers Rule!

The joy. The delight. It is unimaginable.

My humans left a special treat for me on the counter. It was a KFC Snacker. At first I did not realize that it was there.....but then ever so softly I heard it calling. It said in its seductive sandwich voice "Bartholomeu, I am for you." It was like the "That Which Survives" episode of the original Star Trek. Only this time the sandwich was not named Losira and it wasn't trying to kill me. Thank goodness my KFC snacker didn't end up to be a holographic projection either!

No, my snacker was very, very real. Then it slid down my throat so smoothly I didn't even have to chew.

Now, why did my favorite human check my breath when I was done? You just have to wonder what these humans are thinking sometimes.

-Bart

He needed some exercise anyway.

I've been busy lately. As I have mentioned before, we're down one dog in our pack. A situation my agent needs to rememdy. Tomorrow is Valentine's Day and maybe he'll bring a puppy for my favorite human.

The wolfhounds are such slackers that I am left to do all the work. Whether it is chasing the cat, cleaning the stove, sink, dishes, etc. Okay, so the hounds will stare at the cat over the gate. But, they won't go for her.

Which reminds me......I kind of like the cat. She's so very attractive. Did I mention she looks like me? Yes. Black with brindling.....though in cats I guess they call that tortoise shell. I have to wonder about that (and maybe ask Mytrle, as the tortoise is a cousin of hers, I believe).

So, while I am doing all the work around here (like a modern day Cinderella), I noticed a couple things. One is that Brogan was looking a little soft and out of shape. The other is my agent was deluded into thinking he had Bart-proofed the gate.

It was a beautiful Sunday morning. The country landscape was covered in snow and it looked so inviting. There's no better time than the present. I nosed the gate and with a little brute force had it opened enough to SQUEEZE out. Oh, the sweet taste of freedom! Brogan was a willing participant in the escape. On the other hand, Sabrina was annoyed and barked her fool head off. TATTLE-TALE! If it hadn't been for her we might have gotten much farther away from the house before anyone noticed.

We were off! I ran around the house a few times to warm old Brogan up. Then down the road and across the bridge (so we didn't have to tramp through the creek). Next it was up the hill on the snowmobile trail.

Brogan was keeping up with me, which is pretty surprising since he's really a geezer in wolfhound years. I'm not sure how many miles we ran, but it was GREAT!

Now this story does have a down side. Apparently I stressed out my favorite human as she wasn't so confident that I could take care of myself and Brogan out in the "wild." I'm really sorry I did that. I never like to see her cry. I also didn't want her angry with my agent either.
She sort of blamed him for the gate thing. I don't know why she did that. When I want out, I get out. Next time I'll have to do it in such a way that my agent is held blameless.

The upside to the story is that my agent had to walk the snowmobile trail too!!! This was so good for him. It was as if I killed two birds with one stone. Brogan and my agent both got plenty of exercise.

My agent finally caught up with us. We were so happy to see him! Especially because we ended up getting a ride home. I could have run all the way home, but Brogan was looking spent.

Once home we spent the afternoon napping. Can you think of a better way to spend a day??

-Bart

I'm back... and saucy.

As you can tell, I have taken a brief (well, not so brief, really) hiatus from my blogging for a while. Sometimes a dog just has to be a dog. But so many things have happened lately that I had to tell you about some of them.

First and foremost, the topic of food. My favorite human says I must have some Italian in me. Well, let me tell you, you don't have to be Italian to enjoy her pasta sauce. And one day last weekend, she made a big pot of it for me.

Now, I have learned that when stuff is cooking on the stove, I should stay away from it. Only because it might singe my paws or burn my tongue. But, here's the thing. The humans quite often leave food on the stove without the heat on, so that I can have access to it. When that little red light is not on, I know I can have at it! And my favorite human must really have loved me that night, because there it was, this big huge gleaming pot of pasta sauce left on the stove, with nary a little red light in sight!

It had cooked all day so I knew it would be good. I had ample opportunity earlier to get into it but I waited, because waiting is half the enjoyment. It had the lid on it, which took quite some doing to get past. Alas, I did splash a bit on the walls and the stove. And I guess my humans didn't appreciate that, because they soon came into the kitchen (they had been off watching TV or something), yelled my name (in praise, of course!), and put the pot into the fridge as punishment.

Oh well, it was good... even thought it could have used more meat. So, I now have to wait until my next opportunity to get some more of that. I'm really looking forward to it. Maybe then they will make me some pasta too.

A period of mourning.

As you may notice, it has been quite some time since my last post. I have been observing a period of silence in honor of the passing of my fellow packmember. Today's post is written in his memoriam. He told me many a story on those long days we spent together guarding the house while the humans were away.

Walker's Bluebacca (aka Blue) August 2, 1992 to August 20, 2005

Born a wee blue merle Australian Shepherd in Ohio, he travelled to live in an apartment near Lake Erie. There he grew up and blessed the home with many a dog hair and a few tinklings (especially on the Christmas tree).

He holds the record for the most number of times pooping in one day (13 times, can you believe it?). He had the unfortunate experience of developing carsickness on long trips. An expert digger, he made very large holes in the yard. He was also known for eating carpet, something I may try myself.

In his younger days he was pretty daring. Once he jumped right into the frozen water when walking near the bay. He liked the water and would go in on any occasion.

Then there was that time he worried the humans to the point of taking him to the vet.....only to discover that he had nothing more than a hairball. That was the $500 hairball. Next time they skipped the barium and went right to the Petromalt.

My humans were very sad to see him go and I am also. I never like to see my humans sad (annoyed with me, yes......but not sad).

Goodbye, Blue.....our herder, fellow guardian and despiser of wolfhounds. You were loved and you will be missed. I will endeavor to keep our humans safe until we meet again.

I think I will keep my agent...

He has redeemed himself nicely. You see, this morning he was the last one out of the house, and "forgot" to let the big dummy Brogan inside before he left!

An Estrela wouldn't mind being outside all morning -- it was a nice day, after all -- but the big dummy did not like it at all. And an Estrela, if caught in such a predicament, and actually wanting to come inside, would have been able to figure out how to get in (after all, I have managed to let myself out and I have heard of fellow Estrelas doing the same).

So I have decided to give my agent another chance. If he keeps up this favoritism, it will certainly serve in his favor!

Sprung! (kind of)

First of all I will say that I need a new agent.

On Saturday, my soon-to-be-ex agent came and took the big dumb wolfhound out of lockup. At first I thought, "ok, he'll be right back for me..." but he never came back.

So yesterday he did come pick me up. I played it all cool, like I was real happy to see him, but that was just showing off for the humans and little dogs in the waiting room near the exit. And what do you know, when I come home, I get to spend a little time outside, and then BAM! back into the pen.

But it gets worse!

While I am in the pen, there are interesting things going on in the kitchen. Sabrina's pen is being dismantled and removed from the room. I had a quick glimmer of hope that this would lead to a little more play room in the kitchen. But I was soon to find out the truth -- Sabrina's pen was being moved out to the garage, to hold Brogan the big dumb wolfhound, which is good, but my pen was also being moved out to the garage, to hold me! Can you believe it!?

Well, Brogan did not like being out there one bit but I think he got tired of barking. I, for one, was the cucumber-cool Estrela. But I was plotting my revenge. Today while my agent was at work and the kids and my favorite human were outside, I escaped out of the kitchen and left some nice wet pee spots on the carpet, in several rooms. That should send a message. Brogan, copycat that he is, also peed, but in the kitchen, and at a time when he was the only loose one who could have done it (what a dummy he is).

But wait, there's more! Brogan keeps bragging about why he got to come home early. I will not repeat what he said, but let's just say that I heard from other sources that his braggadocio is not to be believed.

Regardless, I have now essentially moved from one jail to another, and I can only wait to see what will happen next. It is very hard to guard the household from these various lockups, even for an Estrela. And to be treated like this by my own agent.... this is why I need a new agent. Now accepting applications!

I just can't do it

Well, I physically could do it -- an Estrela isn't a wimp, you know -- but I just can't see any point in continuing this hunger strike any longer. It is obviously not working, so why shouldn't we just eat, like normal people? That dumb wolfhound Brogan is being more stubborn but I know he is starting to come around, eating a little bit here and there because, really, he doesn't want to go hungry!

Jail?

Okay, I am not pretty sure this is jail. What crime I committed, I do not know.

I can't dig holes here, clean the sink, sniff and groom Sabrina (sorry Gisela!), chew on the furniture or bark to annoy the neighbors. Sigh. I shall plot to be returned home. Brogan has filled me in on how he refused to eat (can you believe that?) the last time that he was here. It resulted in him earning an early parole. I am remembering how my poop strike did not work when I stayed with Uncle John. I can try it here but somehow I don't think it will matter. These humans look experienced in dealing with dogs.

How sad can I make these big brown eyes look?

From the "inside"

Today I am writing to you from some strange kennel. I do not know why I was sent here or how long I will be here. The big dummy Brogan is here too.

They feed us well and we get exercise, and there are lots of new humans to adore me. I managed to sneak out to use a computer in an office during "free play." I have to be quick because I don't know what they would do to me if they caught me, even though it is my right as an Estrela to be using the computer!

I just know that Sabrina is getting to clean out the sink instead of me... the only good thing is that it's not Brogan!

Corn!

Tonight the humans had corn on the cob for dinner. And they thoughtfully left the used cobs in a bag on the counter. It would have been nice if they actually left the UN-eaten cobs out for me too, but an Estrela can cope with sub-standard food.

But here's the confusing thing... when I got a corn cob out for a little post-dinner snack, the humans actually yelled at me and took it away.

They hung the bag full of husks (ok, even I won't stoop so low as to eat those) and cobs up on a cabinet doorknob. I will have to treat this as a personal challenge.

It was a bonanza, but I missed it

The other night something wonderful almost happened.

You see, our dog food is kept in some plastic bins that are stacked in the kitchen. Being plastic, they are not exceptionally strong, which has already proven advantageous to moi -- the bottom bin has been warped a bit by the weight of the bins on top of it, so that the door doesn't shut tightly, allowing free snacking. The humans for some reason actually put a lock on it once I let them know about this, which must have been a mistake, so I broke it off of there one time (they subsequently swapped it with another bin, and I have chosen not to break this one as well).

But that is not the subject of this story. The other night I was awakened from my slumber by the sound of the dog food bins crashing on the floor. Someone (I'm not sure who, because I was asleep, but I have my theories) knocked the dog food bins over... and they of course spilled much of their contents onto the floor. I am sure this is partially because of the weakened bottom bin, which no longer provides a very stable base for the "tower of treats." Oddly enough, the humans either didn't hear it, or didn't care, because they did not come out to investigate.

And this is why I said something wonderful almost happened. I was locked up in my pen. It would have been truly wonderful, miraculous even, if I had been loose. Still, I have many reasons to be pleased with this occurrence.

• Since the bins fell right in front of Sabrina's pen, she intimidated the other dogs so that they did not get any snacks, either. She got whatever she could get through the pen, but that was it... and she had to watch my agent clean it up in the morning.
• Now that I have seen it can be done, I can try to repeat the occurrence at some point when the humans leave me loose in the kitchen while they are outside or something.
• As I said, I was sleeping so I don't know who did it... but I'll bet it was that dumb wolfhound Brogan, trying to frame me again, forgetting that there was no way the humans could possibly have suspected me, since I was in my pen! I am still chuckling over that thought.

Festival, Schmestival!

Well, Brogan the "fierce," I don't know where you and the other dumb "wolf"hound went on Saturday, but it sure wasn't anyplace where you would get attention from anyone. You couldn't have been "cleaning faces" or getting "hugs" or "being the center of attention." Because I know that my agent and my favorite human would never take you two, rather than me, to something like that. I am the one that always gets to go to Petsmart, remember? I am the one who goes to dog shows. Me, not you!

And, wherever you really were on Saturday, you missed out bigtime. You see, while you were probably getting poked and prodded by the vet or something, I was partying. The kibble was flowing and the stereo was pumping out tracks from my new mix cd... "Who Let the Dogs Out?", "Hound Dog," "I'm Gonna Buy Me a Dog," "By-Tor and the Snow Dog," "Puppy Love," "Givin the Dog a Bone," "Bad to the Bone," and "Muskrat Love." I took advantage of some golden chewing opportunities, then I popped in the DVD of "Best in Show" and Daisy and I watched it. On the couch. We could stretch waaaaay out on the nice soft fabric.

That's what you missed, big guy.

Note to my agent and my favorite human (Brogan stop reading now): the above is fiction, I did not lay on the couch, play the stereo, destroy any "good towels," or pee on the floor. And if you find dog food between the couch cushions, it was not me! Maybe the children have been sneaking it.

Maybe I am getting through to them

As you know, as an Estrela Mountain Dog, king of all breeds, I am naturally the leader of any pack I am in. Rather than the brute-force approach taken by most other breeds, I prefer a more nurturing, educating leadership style. Other dogs cannot be Estrelas, but they can learn from us and try to take on some of our better qualities, even though for the most part they cannot actually succeed.

Now, anyone seeing the motley crew of individuals I have to work with might be immediately inclined to throw in the towel when it comes to education, and resort to the usual snarling and baring of teeth. Besides the two big dumb wolfhounds there is an Australian Shepherd that must be almost 91 in dog years (he once told me, "I was an Aussie when Aussies weren't cool"), and a smallish mutt that, thanks to the wolfhounds, seems to be getting more neurotic every day. But, I am not just anyone, I am Champion Bart the Estrela Prince, and thus I take it as a personal challenge upon myself to do what I can without resorting to violence.

So last night I was heartened by something that occurred. My favorite human had spent many hours yesterday in the kitchen preparing food. She had worked with the boy child on some excellent-smelling dessert with blueberries picked from the bushes in the back yard that so tantalizingly call me to them at this time of year. Most of the afternoon, I and the big dumb wolfhounds were locked in the dog yard, so I didn't have any opportunity to sample it. Old Man was locked in the big crate with the fan blowing on him, but the little mutt (who I am told used to be a lot of fun) was loose in the kitchen.

And wouldn't you know it, she remembered some of my lessons! She remembered how all the food in the house is actually ours, even when they don't directly give it to us. She remembered that humans sometimes leave food in challenging locations, which is a practice meant to encourage us to use our minds (some of us having more in that department than others) as well as our bodies. And she managed to sample some of the blueberry cake! Way to go, little mutt!

Now, she didn't get it exactly right. It seems she was still a little skeptical that the cake was for us, and thus she only took a minute sample that almost went unnoticed (that was at least clever, if misguided), and did it while the humans were busy outside. But still, progress is progress, and I am pleased.

But I still have to work out how to get myself some of that dessert. I know there is some left, but while we got some scraps from dinner, there was not a blueberry in sight.

Just keep me away from the baklava.

Wishing for Rain

Yesterday my agent was rather busy in the kicthen. He was moving crates and chairs out onto the deck. Then he mopped the kitchen floor. Now it smells funny. I don't like it. It's way too clean. I like to simulate the outdoors indoor in my kitchen. You know, drag mud, sticks and stones in and then "mark" everything with my scent. Now, nothing smells right!!!!

I'm hoping for some rain so that I can return my kitchen to that "earthy" smell. The rain will make the yard nice and muddy so I can do a proper job. I think I will research how to do a rain dance. I may not be a Native American, but I am smart so how hard can it be????

Ducks Gone Wild

I don't know what goes on in those peanut-sized brains of the waterfowl. As I have previously reported, I am stuck in the house while they are left to their own devices. Last night "some creature" was spotted outside their pen. The humans went to deal with it armed only with a spotlight. WHAT were they thinking??? What were they going to do to protect themselves? Blind the creature? Throw the spotlight at it? All they needed to do was take me with them. But NOOOOOO. Instead I was forced to stand at the kitchen sink and watch out the window at the spectacle. Luckily, I am good at math and had quickly calculated just the right velocity and force I would need to jump through the window if the need would arise (it didn't, but I was prepared anyway). Fortunately for the humans the creature out there took off (probably because it knew I was glaring through the window).

But back to my original thought, which was that the ducks are truly not beings of superior intelligence (like Estrela Mountain Dogs). The ducks were just being stupid today. They were wandering into the road. Now, even the wolfhounds know that we don't stand in the road. That's just not safe with the crazy drivers here that mistake 45 miles and hour for 65 miles on hour.

The humans had to go herd the ducks in. Now, I am NOT a herding dog and maybe if the Australian Shepherd that lives here was not a hundred years old and sick with that tumor, he could help with this little problem. Which reminds me......I heard a wicked rumor that a certain wolfhound that shall remain nameless could end up losing his family jewels mighty quick if he doesn't stop bothering the Aussie. I digress.

I am going to keep using my Estrela powers of mind manipulation on the humans. They need those ducks to be safe!!! I need to be with my ducks!

Frustration

As we all know, or as we should all know, Estrela Mountain Dogs are besides being the king of all breeds, livestock guardians. Well, my whole purpose in life is to guard my favorite human's ducks. She has nine ducks, I can't remember their names so we'll just call them the ducks. Two of them are a rare breed, like me! So, here I am stuck in this stinking house (and when I say stinking, I mean stinking - who would think that peeing inside would make it smell?) and I can't even watch my (I mean her, no.....I mean my as everything in the realm really belongs to me) well, I can't even watch my ducks. They are unprotected out there! What is far, far worse is that my agent has been toying with the very lives of my waterfowl friends. For some reason, he cannot remember to latch their predator-proof pen at night. Now, this would not even be an issue if I was out there. There would be no danger to my ducks.

What is an Estrela Mountain Dog to do??????