VOLTAIRE CLEAR FOR LANDING

It's been crazy weird around here lately--all I hear is 'Voltaire's coming--puppy, puppy, puppy!"  I really have no idea what a Voltaire is or for that matter a puppy but the Humans keep saying it over and over.  You'd think they want me to say it and I might if they don't stop.  Anyway, last night they put this sign around my neck, loaded me into the Nalligator with Grandogma and off we went for a ride.  I love to go for rides.  We drove to the airport and it brought back memories from someplace not long ago but I couldn't quite put my paw on it. 


 

We waited and waited and finally some Lady Human came out the door looking for us.  Must have been pretty important as all the Humans left me sitting in the truck which didn't seem fair since I did have to wear that sign and all.  After a few minutes, out they come all grinning and talking and my Mom Human is carrying something (very stinky I might add) all wrapped up in a blanket with a goofy looking Christmas hat on its head.  What the heck is this and why is it getting in my truck?  This is a joke, right?  No doubt, we are just delivering this thing someplace else.  It smells bad and no one is paying attention to me so I let them know I was still back here--I barked and barked and let it know it better be heading on down the road--the Humans were not amused.


Well, I'll be darned if we don't pull back up in the driveway and take that thing into MY house!  Mom took him straight upstairs for a quick bath and was bragging about what a good boy he was, standing still and not crying.  Boy, do I have a few things to show him--I HATE baths so I don't take them.  Stupid puppy.  Mom brought him back downstairs and the Short Dogs started acting like fools.  Agnies just couldn't wait to play like the Mommy, Bob couldn't wait to get the toys and I couldn't wait to make it go away.  Mom fed it and kept taking it outside to do the 'go potty'--geez, how hard is that?  When she got back, Grandogma was oohing and aahing so they took some more pictures.  What's so special about all this anyway?  It eats, poops and runs around like it's got batteries and I wish someone would find the off switch!

Well, I finally got into trouble when I almost knocked the gate over but the Humans were talking about this new thing and here's the scoop:

His name is VOLTAIRE (officially FantASIA's Voltaire of Solace) and he got here from my Puppy Mom, Laura Kathryn of Solace Shilohs.  He is a breed quality stud muffin from the Asia and Aslan litter born October 26, 2011.  Someday, he'll probably make some more annoying puppies but for now, we're stuck with him.  Glad he finally calmed down and left me alone.  Stay tuned, I'm still working on what to do with him.

ELVIS HAS LEFT THE BUILDING STUPID

Being the 34th anniversary of the passing of that great Memphis legend, Elvis, it seemed fitting that we pay tribute to Mr. Blue Suede Shoes.  Personally, I never cared much for him or his music but I did like Priscilla (until she messed up her lips with that poison injection and now looks like a Goldfish) and his daughter has certainly been a hot topic of various trash magazines (but I thought her video with The Michael was a good effort to cover-up their marriage disaster).  Truth be known, Elvis just wasn't as cool as say, Ringo or Mick or even Elton John.  Couldn't sing all that well but he sure could move those hips!  Funny how a dead celebrity tends to skyrocket their popularity...Marilyn Monroe, Michael Jackson, Janis Joplin--see what I mean?  Too bad talent has to go the way of drug cocktails and dain bramage. 

Hey, that looks like my Great Aunt Gracie!

By the way Bob Barker, you can stop looking for Him...you ain't nothin but a hound dog...

ON BEING A BITCH

Now before ya'll go getting self-righteous on me, there's some things we need to get straight.  We ladies here in the southern part of the mid-western Plains are generally known for our extremely polite and gracious manner.  For instance, a true lady will always offer something cool to drink and snack on when you pay a visit.  She will not, however, be glad you were 'in the neighborhood' and stopped by without calling first.  It would seem that there are more and more hateful humans in this world than you can shake a finger at or in my case, stick a nose in an inappropriate place at.  I, myselves (those other biatches in my head that make me misbehave; i.e., chase cats, bark loudly so the humans jump two feet off their chairs, open doors and let a/c in/out and pin the short dogs to the ground when necessary) always try to do my best to a) give you fair warning and let you know I'm behind that fence or door, b) with permission smell you, then wag my tail and c) ignore you unless there is food in your hand or a nearby location.  We are just nice like that.  This is just the way we bitches are because we are DOG bitches.  We really could care less on most days what you Humans' political, religious or personal interests are so long as we are fed on schedule. 

Humans of the female sort tend to run on a different short leash.  There are nosy, sneaky, arrogant, lazy, self-righteous, opinionated and downright stupid bitches--sort of like the Seven Dwarves on Hormones.  I mean seriously--the only time you're gonna see the DOG bitches get into each others face is over food, space or possessions of the toy type.  Once we're bred, we don't even care about the last boyfriend we jumped the fence over. 

No matter how well you think you know someone, just throw out your ideas on the government and/or religion and see who's fur stands up on their neck.  As the Human Grandogma says, "If you can't say something nice, keep your trap shut."  Something to think about in the coming days of political ugliness and party posturing ya'll.  I'm a Leashatarian Shiloh (free to do whatever I can get by with) and I say--be nice or you might step in somethin'.

PARIS, HEATWAVE AND THERE'S A HAIR IN MY MOUTH

Bonjour!  That's French for good day.  However, do ya'll see me in this picture?  Me neither.  That would be Tres Bad!  I sat around listening to 'conversational' French for weeks and was prepared to be the Madame Pompidou of Paris when I was shocked to find that not only was I stuck with Bob Barker and Ms. Agnies BUT that little wienie dog, Beanie and his yappy, jumpy, more irritating than you can imagine terrier, Blue, appeared and the humans were gone--for two weeks, no less.  I had to set some things straight right away and almost lost my mind (and a few pounds) until My Humans returned.  I did not eat the cats although it did pass my mind several times.

When My Humans returned, the nice cool weather I so love turned rapidly into a heatwave.  I swear ya'll, you could cook eggs on the back of a cat layin' in the sun.  I determined that the only necessity to exit the cool air conditioning would be first thing in the morning and last thing at night.  When you have a gorgeous fur coat as I do, there is no amount of panting or water drinking that cools this big girl down to tolerable.  I hate the swimming pool, water hoses and misters.  They simply muss me up and I refuse to be a dolt lying in the sun like I don't know better--note to Bob and Agnies--it's hotter than blazes out there and if you don't lie in the sun, you won't get so hot!  Anyways, this record-setting heat has lasted for nearly two months now.  Someone has made amends with the rain gods and sent it our way these past few days and we are basking in low 90's instead of cooking at 115 degrees and that ain't the heat index.

Speaking of hot--what's a girl to do when she does get wet or messy and I must admit, I do make such a fuss with My Humans that they thus far have 'almost' given up on baths.  I have dumped at least 100 lbs of hair on every available nook and cranny in the house, on the chairs and I can't help it--I eat it.  Now that might seem a bit odd to anyone else but it IS my hair and if I like to chew on it, so be it.  Mrs. Human has been hacking with her tiny scissors at these awful mats on my butt and I look rather shaggy at the moment but I can assure you, I will just grow more hair to replace the missing ones and maybe twice as much hair.  That way, I can spread the love as far and high as possible.  It's the least I can do so she has something to do besides sit in that pool if I can't be in there!


Mr Human gave the deck a mini facelift and we simply adore what he's done!  He's so thoughtful...

WHO ATE THE CHEESE?

 So, we're all laying around chewing on some antlers with nothing to do but we knew some good smells were coming from the kitchen cause Mom had started her Italian sauce and meatballs.  It's always a good time to think of ways to sneak a taste of anything coming from that kitchen.

Well, Mom found out just how big I'm getting when she put her plate-size-imported-from-Italy Pecorino-Romano cheese slab on the back of the counter and headed upstairs.   Only took me a few minutes to pull it down and share some with the  short dogs.  I could smell it from the backyard so I just opened the door and let all of us back in the house.  I was kind enough to leave just enough for the humans to use--well, because I got caught red-pawed.  Kind of hard to hide a pound of cheese in your mouth.

Works for me.  My real name is Liliana Santucci!  Ciao, baby.

WELL HAPPY ST PATRICK'S DAY, Y'ALL!  Yes, I had to dress up a bit for that green beer and corned beef (just kidding about the beer).  Being I'm from an Irish family, this is a big day around the house.  Shamrocks, leprechaun hats, lights and green stuff are all over the place.  They keep calling me O'Callahan and 'be sure you chase off the snakes'--Whatever.  I'm way too busy chasing CC Cat and Karma Kitty to worry about some nasty, slimy snake. 

May the road always rise to meet ye and a pot o'gold be waitin' for ye when ye get theres.
(I really said that.  Ask the short dogs).

Too busy to blog

Well, there's been a lot of frog killin' going on down here since we last spoke (that's southern talk for 'busy as a beaver building a dam').  The humans took off during the holidays for New York City.  Yes, I and the short dogs were left behind.  My sister from Colorado that was supposed to stay with me (and I do love her more than she probably cares for me to show her) went to the Big Apple so I was left to my own devices.  There seemed to be an abundance of short dogs, Beenie Weenie and Blue were visiting so there were five of us here.  Why I wasn't put on that plane I can't figure out.  I mean really, how often am I going to get the chance to see and meet my founding Mother at New Zion or shop in Manhattan? 







Well, loves, what goes around comes around.  It seems the great blizzard of the century caught the humans by surprise.  They finally got back and we had our own blizzard.  Serves everyone right.  I do love the snow.  Maybe it's in my Shiloh-genes. 
 

 

Of course, some of us are just a whole lot smarter about these weather changes than others.  It would appear short dogs are short on brain cells as well.  Good grief.

And let's just say the other short dog, Master Bob Barker, was unable to withstand the freezing of his oh-so-low-to-the-ground private parts.  He mostly sat on the porch and peed.  My Mom was very, very unhappy for this behavior.