Defending Barcie's Blog

I'm stepping up my computer security. Strengthen the password and lock my brother out. There will be no more hijacking of my blog! Yes, Kobe started out with a very charming article about the holidays. But it soon turned into a confession about ripping open Christmas gifts!

Goodness Gracious, nothing like putting your bad behavior out for the entire world to see. Kobe, you are giving whippets a bad name. Why, Mom's co-worker said that after hearing about your hijinx she would NEVER adopt a whippet. 

And furthermore, Kobe, I'll write what I like. This is supposed to be a clever narrative about my life, not a forum for naughtiness.  I'm not schooling the nation's dogs into figuring out how to access every morsel in the house. This is not a "how to" forum so every Tucker, Daisy and Harvey can learn how to jump on stoves and eat out of the pan. Uh, uh. 

You can be sure that my blog will be safe from intrusion from now on. Apologies to my human audience.

Holiday Eats & Treats

The holiday season just ended. For weeks beforehand I had been dreaming about big spreads and heavily laden tables:  clove-studded roasted hams, golden skinned roast turkeys, roast beef and gravy. Oodles of noodles, squash, green bean casserole, what have you.

Well, not at my house though. They are "vegetarians!" But, still there were lots of seasonal dishes, homemade goodies from our parent's clients and lots more. 


 Now, I tried my best to get into the Christmas spirit. Barcie and I lounged under the Christmas tree. We gazed up at the lights and made our little Christmas wish lists. Then I noticed, way up high in the branches was a delicious looking cookie, homemade. I happened to LOVE sugar cookies. What was it doing up there?  

But when I wrestled it onto the floor and took a couple bites, pthew! That is not a SUGAR cookie that is a SALT cookie! Even Little Miss Perfect (Barcie) tried one too.

Maybe I'd have better luck with a wrapped gift. I mean, if you are giving food as a gift, it must be edible, right? Soooo, I picked a package that smelled the best. (Hmm, Santa got my name wrong; it’s not “Debbie!”) 

I ripped off the bow, scratched off the wrapping paper and broke open the box…Since it was a plastic shell this meant I had to figure out how to crack that open, too. 

Finally, I was in the box! An entire box of Ferrero Rocher® chocolates! I eagerly gobbled my first chocolate; paper, foil and all. Scrumptious!!

Unfortunately, my fantasy of settling down with a box of fine chocolates was shattered when the owners stormed into the house. Supposedly, chocolate is “poisonous to dogs” or so they claim. After all my hard work!  



  

 

Introduction to Counter Surfing

Barcie, did you think that using “whippet” as a password would keep your laptop secure? Geez, how stupid do you think I….Never mind.

I’m determined to increase readership on this blog. A bunch of ramblings about “the book I just read” and the vacations she took is not gonna cut it.

So, let’s turn to a topic of real importance to all you canines out there:  food.  Now, we usually have to depend on the whims of our owners when it comes to getting a snack. But, with my one- track mind, my long legs and a lot of hard work, I have managed to overcome this limitation.

I call my technique “Grab Groceries and Go.”  Now, humans like to leave food in the refrigerator, a sort of large metal box with a tight fitting door. That set-up I have yet to crack. But I've had much more luck with that other location for leaving food:  the counters.

I have made quite a career out of retrieving all sorts of food items off the counter. And I have quite the delicate touch! Like the time when I moved a glass cake pan to the floor and removed the cake without breaking the pan.

Next blog:  I will spill my secrets and describe my many culinary conquests.

Kobe's Turn

Hey Barcie, guess what? I stole your computer and look what I’m doing? I’m blogging!
Barcie goes on and on so I think it's about time I had a turn. I need to tell my story.

I tip the scales at 42 pounds (15 more than Barcie) so I’m a very large whippet. Or as Barcie would say enormous.

I also have a pronounced limp so that passersby can repeatedly say, “did that doggy hurt his paw?”

My life; where should I start? I’m from Wisconsin originally. WRAP brought Barcie and I and all the dogs in the house to the greater Chicago area.  From there I came to Michigan.

I was born with a club foot. This is a condition in which the foot bends up towards the leg; In people it can be corrected with braces, surgery or other techniques.  I'm a dog with a disability, but I don't let it define me.

My original owners showed and bred whippets. I bet most breeders would have “put down” a puppy born with a club foot since I would not have been suitable for showing or er, breeding.  

But, they not only kept me, they had a vet perform corrective surgery. This removed part of my paw and 4 toes, leaving a single toe and nail on the foot. The procedure allowed me to use my leg. Not only can I walk and run, frankly I am a killer typist!

Fact is, holding the foot up in the air with a pathetic demeanor and a winsome look on my face has been a great method for getting handouts. I’m not cute and speedy like Barcie so I need to get by with other attributes.  

Might I just say that as much as I love my sis Barcie, she can be a royal pain. As if the world is hanging on her every word. Seriously girl, do you think you’re Joyce Carol Oates? You write a blog that practically no one reads.

Well, I'm going to help her boost her readership.  So look for more from Yours Truly.
Signed,
Kobe, the big brother

 

 

Barcie on Break

Barcelona is taking a brief hiatus. She suffered some minor scratches near her eyes, but they aren't serious.

 According to Barcie, she was viciously attacked by a squirrel. Right in her own yard. She was just out for a breath of air and no kidding, a squirrel dropped on her and began to slash her with its claws.

She even dug up a picture of some crazed squirrel from the UK (left) and stories (below), plus a web site about the matter.

"In June 2005, a woman was attacked in her own living room by a crazed squirrel in Passau, Germany. The rodent jumped in through the window and sunk its teeth into the woman. Whilst fleeing the scene the squirrel bit a builder and a 72-year-old man, before the pensioner managed to kill it with his crutch."

Here are the top 10 stories about squirrel attacks (just in case you're interested) 

http://www.mirror.co.uk/news/weird-news/killer-squirrels-watch-out-here-372363#ixzz2dbWQIjjr

We believe that it's possible Barcie started the encounter. Just a hunch.

Toodles, Barcie’s Parents 

 

My Skunk Story

  Dear Readers,

Please don’t think I’m bragging, but just the other day I was sure I'd save my humans from certain harm.  Lately there have been many of the creatures called Mephitis Mephitis, in our yard, also known as skunks. You know, Pepe Le Pew. Not as cute as the cartoon though.

 

My latest read, the book  Rabid, A Cultural History of the World’s Most Diabolical Virus by Murphy and Wasik, reported that the skunk was the source of numerous cases of rabies in the old West. And here’s a fun fact:  a single skunk bit 16 people at a military fort. Every one of them died. Rabies, without vaccine treatment, is pretty much fatal.

Naturally I didn’t want such a thing to happen to my owners! So every night before using “the necessary” I carefully patrol the backyard. I spied a striped rascal sneaking around the bushes and tore after it. I saw the devil stamp its feet and turned its back. (A clue, I later learned, as to what was coming next.)

 

You know us whippets, nearly the fastest dog breed. I pounced and grabbed the skunk but a rotten egg stench filled the air. My human shrieked my name. Assuming she wished to inspect my catch, I scurried over.  Instead she grabbed me with a horrified look on her face.

Before I knew it I was whisked into the shower stall. Seconds later peroxide fizzed on my skin; an ingredient in that homemade remedy that removes skunk spray from dog coats. I was scrubbed, washed, rinsed, pressed, buffed, etc. until the odor of skunk was somewhat dulled.

How was I to know that skunks are no longer a threat for rabies? Do I look like a public health expert? Instead of being a heroine I’m sopped and discouraged. Sigh!

 Toodles, Barcelona  

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

My School Days

I’ve been attending obedience classes at the Huron Valley Humane Society. I wasn’t sure what to expect! The other students were quite an assortment of dogs; a pit bull and basset hound mix (a bassapit, a bassbull?)  spaniel, labs and a tiny toy breed our instructor dubbed “Killer.” I was the lone whippet of course.

One black mongrel just set me off and we had several hostile barking exchanges. He was always looking at me, ya now? Fortunately, Michael Burkey, the teacher (www.Michigandogtrainer.com) switched our positions so I didn’t have to see his snarky face.

I felt that I had to snap at all the other dog’s friendly overtures. You just never know when they’re out to get you! This worry definitely had an impact on my scholastic achievement. Even if I was being enticed with slices of Pupperoni and baked liverwurst.

I did enjoy my training neighbor, Killer. Who knows, we might even have played together in another setting. I did eventually relax a little but it was a challenge.

The training? I was barraged with commands:  “Leave it! Stay! Place! Lie Down!” Goodness, it took months to master “Sit!” I’m not accustomed to following all these orders. At the Carjo’s we just did as we pleased. And Kobe is such a naughty dog it doesn’t take much to look like a canine wizard in comparison.

So, now that class is over, back to the old routine. Now that I’m not in dog-filled room I guess it's not so bad trading my independence for some tasty snacks. Where’s that liverwurst?

Toodles, Barcelona