Vacation awaits

These days have been pretty blah. It's raining, I didn't get to go to the Royal Ascot or Wimbledon (my social life as a British blueblood is in tatters!), and most of the day I just loll around after morning training or suffer through a full-on rest day. But not for much longer.

This weekend I'm booked at a very upscale, dogs-only resort north of Oxford. From what I hear, I get a spacious two-room suite overlooking the lake, three acres to play on during my two daily outings, and twenty-four hour service; even grooming, if I can get my parents to lay out a few extra pounds! Should be paradise.

Anyway, I think it will be nice compared to sitting around in some hotel in (tacky!) Blackpool while my mom shakes around like an idiot and my dad mopes over coin belts and (tacky!) bedlah sets. Sure, they get the beach, but did I mention that the lake-front is inhabited by a brilliant display of the fauna of England? Hello, Dog TV!

I can only hope that I get to board next to some lovely lady dogs. Rowhr!

Where I hope to go for vacation one of these days:

North Dakota, duh!

(Although I could probably go to Cuba on my passport,

unlike my parents! Mwahahahawoof!)

Ain't No Other Man

My dad is the best dad! So here is my post-Father's Day tribute to my dad. Or, maybe I should say my tribute for the month of June, because my dad is so awesome I give him a shout-out at least once a month, just for being him...

Mom, she's tough. She barely ever shares food with me. Dad, on the other hand, understands the seriousness of puppy-dog eyes. Here we are yesterday, sharing a delicious bowl of Singapore noodles.

MMM!

So you really can't beat my dad. Woof!

Stuffed Stuff

Some animals have a sweet tooth. Myself, I have a stuff tooth. I just love stuffing.

It started when both of my grandmas sent me stuffed toys. Fun to play with; better to unstuff. It turns wherever I've been chewing into a cloud of deliciousness.

Just today, though, I realized Mom and Dad have been holding out on me. That whole big blanket thing we all sleep under is just full of stuffing. It's stuffed! It's literally a giant bag of stuff!

Dad seems to want it all to himself, though, and I got in big trouble for just having a tiny nibble this morning. And a larger nibble this afternoon. What's the big deal? There's stuffing enough for all of us!

Of course, I would settle for some of Mom and Dad's Victorian sponge cake. And Mom's stuffed animals. I think that's a reasonable counter-offer.

Woof!

Escargots pour un, si'l vous plait

I'm really quite happy to be spending my formative years in Europe. Lovely meadows, my own passport, language immersion opportunities, and of course, the snails.

Mom tells me that back in the day, when she was a kid, she had never seen a snail! And she only saw slugs once! Which is a real shame, because they are tres delicieux.

Every time it rains, I have myself a little feast. It's snails galore! They come out on the patio, and I have only to brave the rain to bask in my own personal buffet. All dogs go to heaven? All dogs should go to the UK! It's paradise!

Anyway, the snails are the only thing that make the rain bearable. Yesterday, not only did it rain all day but I was stuck in the house while my parents went gallivanting to who-knows-where. I showed them, though, and when they left me for the third time I went to work and finished shredding the upholstery on one of their chairs. Ha!

Although in hindsight, now when it rains and I'm stuck inside I probably will have to be in my kennel. Dang it! No more all-you-can-eat snails!

Woof!

Photo: Romantic dinner by flashlight.

Entourage of One

I've been watching some trashy TV with Mom this summer, but that turns out to be lucky since I've finally realized my place in the family. I am my Dad's entourage.

If you're reading this you probably already know it, but my Dad is pretty much the best person I know. Sure, Mom takes me for runs and picks out my food and takes me to the vet, but my Dad--he lets me lick his face, and he gives me a lot more human food than Mom does. In return, I am his loyal entourage.

I wait for him outside his shower and am quick to lie at his feet and help him dry off by licking them. I also cuddle him awake in the mornings. I take him to the meadow to play.

The mark of a successful entourage is having its own entourage, and you can easily see that in this scenario, Mom is mine. I would call her my personal trainer/nutritionist. She also does odd jobs like escorting me to OUP so that I can carry out my own entourage role for Dad.

It's what they call on TV the fabulous life, just so you know.

Photo: another of my jobs is personal security. I

use my fabulously ferocious bark to get the job done.

Getting Back in Shape the Winston Bengfort Way

Like any star, I must care for my physique. That's why, after two-and-a-half weeks of recuperation, I'm back on the straight-and-narrow with my personal trainer (her name is Mom). Yesterday, we ran the canal, and today we ran to Wolfson and then walked back. I get water given to me from the trainer's cupped hands. It's both glamourous and grueling.

I even changed my diet. After snubbing the Science stuff I was on, the 'rents finally got the picture and got me some great new stuff, called James Wellbeloved. Delish! And I got some sweet little Cesar "A Little More Refined" wet food that gets mixed in every once in a while (Mom checked--Cesar is specially designed for people who obsess about their little dogs and it wasn't a part of that recall). Sometimes I get a nice cooked egg to keep the coat shiny. So yeah, you could say I'm working hard and looking good.

Anyway, if you'll excuse me, I've got some new toys that I've just got to destroy. A dog's work is never over! Woof!

Action shot!

My Surgery: A Retrospective

Now that I've had some time to put some distance between myself and the horrors of my recent surgery, I'm ready to share some of my most intimate photos with you, my loyal fanbase. I hope this will only serve better to bond us together, and to show that I'm not afraid to bare my heart to my dearest readers.

Dad left early the morning of my surgery--which leads me to suspect that it was all Mom's doing. She took me to the vet at 9 AM. Usually I love going there--just yesterday I made Mom stop and go in on our walk so I could snag an extra treat--but this time, Mom left me! I was kept in a little room and not given any food all day, although Mom left my red ball from Grandma with me. The next thing I knew, I'd been shaved on one of my legs, hooked up to some device, and I just passed out! It was crazy!

When I woke up, I heard the nurse calling my Mom and telling her that I was okay. I most certainly was not! But I was still feeling pretty woozy, and I had to hang out at the vet for the rest of the day. When Mom finally came to pick me up at five, I was happy to see her but I barely had the strength to wag hello. We walked home really slowly and Mom put me on the armchair.

The worst part, and by far the most embarrassing, was the cone. Every time I tried to inspect what the vet had done to me, Mom coned me! Lame!

Anyway, I was feeling much better by 4 AM and woke Mom up to tell her so. After that, it wasn't really so bad--I milked the situation like any rock star or favoured child would and got to lounge most of the weekend with lots of treats, ice cubes, and even a squeaky duck toy.

Talk about a dog's life! Woof!

Photo 1: Coned and sedated. Yuck.

Photo 2: You can see the spot where I was shaved and hooked up to the contraption at the vet's.

Photo 3: I lulled the duck into a false sense of security. He didn't last the night.

Photo 4: Once I was back to normal, I used the opportunity to turn my cone into a fashion statement. Me-yow!

Call me Greasespot--Greasespot Sandal-Eater

Dogs get no love. All week I've been locked in my kennel all afternoon while dad is still at work and mom goes off to some sort of party dressed in a black-and-white costume. Then today, I had to go to the vet, which I like, but I don't like the veterinarian--that meany! She took out my sutures, but I still can't forgive her for what she did to me...

Adding insult to injury, when mom and I got home, mom grease-spotted me! They say it's supposed to keep the ticks and fleas away, but I don't know about that. And then she locked me in my kennel for a whole other hour. But I had my revenge.

Mom released me and went into her office to do some errands. I went downstairs quick-as-you-please and sat myself down for a hearty lunch--on her new turquoise flip-flops. And let me tell you, it was delicious while it lasted. Almost as good as dad's blue and white flip-flops I ate earlier this spring.

Mwahahahaha! Woof!