Missing the good weather

Not so long ago, the windows were open, and a dog could leap from his chair/bed into the great outdoors. Not so much anymore. It is 1 degree outside right now, and windy. Its the coldest its ever been in my entire life! At least it isn't raining or snowing, though. Although, I think that might start soon!

And too top it all off, the boiler isn't working, which means I have turned into a burrow dog, burrowing beneath blankets and into pillows just to fine warmth. It isn't dignified!

But Dad's family is coming so that is going to be fun!

Rockstar Dog Diet

I have a rockstar dog diet. Mom and dad might think I am a picky eater- but in reality, I am watching my figure because I am a celebrity, we have to do that sort of stuff! Between runs with mom, wrestling with dad, and learning to catch things in mid-air, I have the exercise program that Tom Chaplain* could only dream of having.

Combine that with my awesome Lindsay Lohan diet- pate, treats, and dog food only at nights, with some puking- I am truly cutting a fine figure recently. Seriously, I am getting strong, and my muscles are nice and defined, now that is what I am talking about!

Dad and mom might be concerned that I don't eat a whole lot, but I think the ladies are noticing. Yesterday I had a lady whippet check me out with much interest, and today I had a tussle with a lady jack russel! Not bad at all.

Well, now I deign to go downstairs and eat some cesars dog food.... so catch you all later!

The kennel and I

Dad is leaving to take his GREs in about an hour. And although that might mean a fun time with mom, she is extra busy this weekend too... going to a friend's birthday party (without me) and hanging out with Chelsea, who I like, but they won't bring me. And doing her stupid paper.

What can a dog do?

I guess it is just the kennel and I this weekend.

Freaky October Festivities (The Sequel)

Well, I wrote in my last blog about the halloween party, and how everyone dressed up and dancing was so distressing, in my next blog, I'll give out some honorable mentions for creepiness when smelled. But we did much more this October than just have that party.

Mom is determined to dress me up in this dogzilla outfit every time she sees me. And to tell you the truth, I kind of like it! I'll stare at it whining until mom puts it on. But as soon as its on, I am chasing my newer more chew-friendly tail and trying to get the thing off. Mom successfully distracted me into wearing it without incident for 20 minutes once, and because of that she thinks she is going to buy me a raincoat and a hoodie. I started to object, then I realized: I live in England, those things can only be good. Plus I see other dogs with those clothing items all the time! With a raincoat at least, I can be less afraid of taking walks to the meadow with dad!

The above is my Charlie Brown shot. I would have included it in the last blog, but I forgot. Needless to say, they thought at the party since I didn't have a costume, I could be a mummy. You can see how long that lasted!

Well at least everything at Halloween wasn't that scary. Check out that pumpkin behind me... really Paul? An earnest pumpkin? I wouldn't have been scared of that thing if could levitate and spew fire! I mean, I am scarier than that.

Crazy Scary Night

Thats right, its creepy McWinston time! I mean, check it out, what the heck is that? I was especially bothered, because it smelled like dad, it sounded like dad, but it didn't look anything at all like dad! I started freaking out, jumping around, and barking my head off at the thing that ate dad's head. Too creepy for this puppy. Dad did eventually lift the lid and show me he was still inside, and I calmed down a little, but still... after watching a season's worth of Dr. Who- you just never know, and you have to be careful in England (Think 28 days later...)

As you can see from the beverage, there was a party going on, and everything was going great! I was very happy and calm as people came to my house wearing costumes, and generally being weird, but I was very polite, and I didn't jump and I just hung out trying to get attention, which I did occasionally, there were even trick or treaters! At one point, dad passed the bowl of caramel apple lollies underneath my nose, and without even moving my body, I managed to get one! They didn't even notice until Dad put me down. They chased me around, which was an awesome game, but they did get the candy from me, which was a bummer.

Then the construction worker girls came... nuff said! I went and hid outside with mom, who was a little pissed that things got loud. But what can you do? My mom's friends like to party!

Still, I wasn't thrilled when, a day late, my costume arrived. Dogzilla indeed!

Puppy Puke and General October Laziness

Well, it has been a lazy October, as you probably have noticed with the lack of posts. I mean, it got all dark and gray, and well... English. So we slept in, and didn't write posts in the morning like we normally do. Then mom and I's walks/runs started getting later and later, and dad has been forcing me out into the rain to use the lawn. It has just been general comfortableness like that- and has created a mood of laziness in the house.

But I have got my puppy puke on! As you can see by my intense skillz in the picture, I am a beggar like a champion, but this occasionally leads to me getting something I can't handle.






For instance, the Mexican chicken sandwich my dad is holding in the picture? I liked and ate that with relish. However, liver pate? that made me puke a little. Puppy puke is a great thing- it makes mom and dad mad, but they can't yell at me because I'm sick! Wahahahah!

Although, I am leaving puke stains on the floor, which will probably have to be bleached out, and even I don't like those- I sniff them and then turn up my nose and go away!

But at least I am not ashamed to fondle my dad's butt!

Update

Hello everyone, I know it has been a bit since I wrote a blog, but there is a very good reason for this. As everyone else in England is talking about- the weather has changed drastically; so drastically, that no one wants to do anything, not even get up in the morning! Since I normally blog in the morning, this has been a very non-blog weather...

Needless to say, I have so much to talk about, including:
1. Love to Adam and Luke from their trip for a week.
2. Puppy Puke
3. Reading with Dad

As soon as the time changes, but hopefully before; we'll be as good as blogging again!

Emergency Baths after Awesome Walks

Man- I had two great walks this past week, both of which ended up with emergency baths; which I guess is how you can tell a good walk from a bad walk- but still- emergency baths then make the walk not so much fun at all!

The first walk, Dad took me out for an early morning walk before work. We walked to the meadow and then started walking along the river, meadow-side. That is the side of the meadow where during the winter it looks like a lake. But since it hasn't gotten to that point yet, it was actually a pleasant walk. It was early, and no one was out (and the weather wasn't great), so dad let me off my lead! I ran around and played with birds and had a great time. Then the best thing of all happened; I found a dead bird!

A dead bird's head to be precise, the rest of the bird was about 15 feet away, and I found that too. So of course, I took the oppertunity to roll in the bird as much as I could. Dad didn't have the lead, so he had to chase me down, and that was fun too! So I rolled in dead bird and a little bit of poop, it was awesome. But as soon as I got home... into the tub! I couldn't believe it. And not only that, but dad washed me (he does a better job anyway) and then left me for work to add insult to injury.

A couple nights later, dad thought we should try again, and we went back to the meadow, back along the river, but I didn't get let off my lead. So we were walking along, and it got muddier and muddier (it had been raining all week); suddenly, Dad yells and I look back and he is up to his butt in mud! He had just fallen into some wierd bog hole. His shoes, his sweatpants, everything was soaked and muddy! So I said- "awesome!" and of course jumped into the mud with him... emergency bath 2 that night! Mom isn't going to let dad take me on walks anymore!

Although yesterday we went for a saturday afternoon walk in great weather and dad through my ball for me, but then I bit him in the hand by accident and made him bleed, so even though there was no mud or fowl, and no emergency bath; it wasn't a fully sucessful walk! Bad luck!

Photo: Emergency bath wrestle after mudballing; I am trying to kick dad in the head... I almost went chuck norris on him.

Uhoh!

As you can see from my: aroo? face: Halloween is coming and mom is planning on making me wear clothes! Apperently, she got a forward of all these dogs dressed in costumes and she wants to do it to me too. I mean, I am already in costume- I am a caniwulf! But no one understands me, it is so sad.

 

Dad is bemused, too: mom wants to go for themed outfits. She has thought of pirates, mermaids, and dominoes (whatever that is). Well, our family is going to look crazy! I thought a good theme for all of us would have been wolf family, but I couldn't convince that one to go through. Dad thinks knight, princess, steed, but I don't want to be a steed.

 

Well, this all comes down to one thing, though: last year at the house, a few weeks before I showed up, mom and dad through a big Halloween bash for all the Rhodes; and the question is, do we want to host it again this year? And if so, are we going to need co-hosts, etc? Well, I think we better get on the ball deciding, I would love to be running around a party- that sounds great! But we'll see.

 

Woof!

 

PS Thanks for all the comments! Keep up the good work.

Blog Participation

People, you must particpate in the blogosphere!!!! I have noticed a significant drop-off in comments on the blogs... and frankly it saddens me. I mean, do you know how hard it is to type with paws? Yet I try to do a blog at least three times a week, you could throw in some brief comments, let me know how you are, respond to the post, tell me how cute I am, etc! I mean... look at me, I am techno-dog for nothing!

 

So did everyone manage to watch the video? If you are that lazy, please feel free to comment with a yes or no to that question! If you can't comment on the blog, for some reason; feel free to email me: winstonbengfort@googlemail.com!

 

Good news, too... Luke and Adam are coming to stay for 10 days!!!!!

And now for something different

I present, "A Standing Dog in Motion" Enjoy.

Blogger is releasing its new video service for its blogs, so lets give it a tryout. This is Mom's video taken a long time ago, I was doing something interesting before then, but then I stopped. Needless to say, while Mom and Dad's new camera would take videos, after dad dropped it off a parking meter on the C&O Canal path, it won't anymore.

This video was taken with Mom's old camera, which is a clunker and doesn't even have sound! What can you do? So I am going to try to convince mom to convince dad to get a digital video recorder, something small, and with a hard disk so there can be more dog video!

And now for the sound: Woof!

How Old is too Old?

Well I turn (ahem) 7 on October 6th; 1 whole human year! Being 7 really makes a dog think, especially since everyone else's blog is all about age, I mean, what is a poor puppy to do? So here are my thoughts:

60 is the new 40? Doubtful, 8 is the new 6! But not really with Dogs, I mean, we still live to the same old ripe age of 15, usually. I guess that is pretty long, though, comparatively speaking.

How old is too old? None of this divide by 2 add seven, the vet already took care of that so I don't have to worry about it, and it sucks! And... I am not any less aggresive, so there!

Old humans are as much fun as young humans, and I can catch them easier...

Why Being a Dog ROCKS!

Mom is shivering, and I'm laughing at her, because as a dog I'm not bothered. The house is cold, because the painters came and painted up everything and none of the windows can be shut right now. And the sun may be out, but it's only 8 degress (Celcius, you colonials!). But all I have to do is turn off my shedding and chase the sun across the floor, and I'm just fine!

And there are side benefits to having so many windows open. Like at night, while Mom and Dad are being boring, I can chase all the little bugs that fly in! So much fun! And, I can hear whatever's going on outside, so I can be super-vigilant and let my parents know if anyone is going by our yard. I feel like that's pretty important information to know.

Mom's been complaining so much, though, that I've been perfecting a special look to give her: The Sideways Glance of Disdain.

Some of us like the windows open, Mom! Woof!

Home Alone with Dad

Well, I am home alone with Dad for the weekend, its day 2 of momlessness, and I think Dad and I have just got the hang of it. Mom left this weekend for Birmingham, for another bellydance thing. Luckily she let dad off the hook this time since she had previously dragged him to Blackpool, so I got to stay home with him rather than be sent away. I didn't even realize what was going on- I just assumed mom was leaving for errands or class or something.

Yesterday morning we were all in bed at 7; when in my doorbell like fashion, I sprang out of bed and ran downstairs barking. Mom went to see who it was- surprise! It was painters that our landlord sent to dress our windows. Well, mom and dad didnt let me meet the painters, and then the backyard was off limits for me most of the day until the paint dried. Mom took off at 11 and it was just me, dad, and painters- so I didn't really notice what was going on. I acted out for mom not being around and not being allowed outside.

I did my crazy poo dance, and tore up the carpets, etc. Dad finally got so tired of me that he took me out for a run to calm me down, which worked. We then spent the rest of the night watching Ghost Rider. When it was late, and about time to go to bed, I realized mom still wasn't back. Dad was reading Sharpe in Bed, and I was with him, but I kept whining to go out, and barking at every little noise I heard, hoping Dad would get out of bed and open the door for mom. It was wierd, she wasn't there.

Anyway, now it is Sunday morning and Dad says mom will be back today, so I am much calmer, and am just sleeping in the sun...

Dog Wrestling

Crazy! Two days ago I ate about 6 bowls of food, human food, and treats, but just lay around all day tired and acting depressed. Yesterday, I was going crazy! Litterally bouncing off the walls, and parading my blankets around and hitting things because I kept tripping over them. I was jumping up on mom and dad and biting and barking and being crazy!

As you can see in the photo above, I was dog wrestled into calmness. My parents tried to calm me down, but nothing woudl do it! Dad usually does the dog wrestling, but mom got hers in yesterday. You can tell by my face that I am thrilled mom can wrestle me down...

Anwyay, Dad finally took me for a run at night, and I dropped like a log. Hyperactivity is tiring. Just like a kid I had my sugar crash (oh yeh, sugar- mom was giving me rice krispy treats!!!) Just kidding, it was Dad. Mom doesn't give me human food, but dad told me to say it was her.

Anyhoo... I am now going to go and pass out in bed again with mom, who still isn't up yet, even though Dad is about to get in the shower and go to work! (Its awesome). Basically, I like mom more than dad, but dad gives me food...

The Best Worst Week Ever... Retrospective Part 3 of 3: The Clink

Take a look at all these pictures, what do they have in common? That's right, no me. Why? Becuase I was unceremoniously dumped into the clink for the rest of the week, adn therefore making the week the best worst week ever.

Everyone went to the Trout, but did I get to go along? No. Dad did take me to the Trout to drop the car off then we walked home together. I even behaved great- Dad let me off the lead and I came when I was called, and sat next to him while runners went past! We walked a whole mile, and I was tired out. But then they put me in the kennel, and went to the Trout again without me! I like the car, but I didn't get a second ride in it.

At least they came home that night...

Next day I went to the dreaded Lakeside Kennel! I fought as hard as I could to escape back to the car, I thought I was just in for another fun car ride, but no- I got left. Because I was mad, I ate all my dog food, which impressed my parents (talk about backfire). The lake is nice, but I want people attention!

They came back the next day, and I gave them what-for. But then on Saturday, the left again! After a nice relaxing morning and a walk, I got stuck in the kennel at noon for what I assumed would be a couple hours- NOT! They weren't back until like 7 at night! Of course I was fine, I had food and water and a dog door, but still.

The next day, same thing. Early in the morning, bags were packed, and I was stuck in my kennel. When mom and dad got back- no Nana and Nanee! What is that about? I guess Dad and Nana had to duke it out for Alpha Male, and that is why they didn't come back- someday I'll have to do the same thing I suposse...

Well, it was the best worst week ever, and I really enjoyed meeting my grandparents- hope I see them again soon!

The Best Worst Week Ever... Retrospective Part 2 of 3: PUNTING!

I am a water dog, as my family and I discovered last tuesday when we went... Punting! For those non-Oxford dogs/folks who do not know what that is, punting is an Oxford/Cambridge type thing whereby a flat bottomed wooden boat is propelled through the water using a large wooden pole, often times with hilarious results. There was a lot of discussion before we left whether or not I could swim, and to tell you the truth, given my love of baths, I wasn't too keen on the idea, but as soon as Nana got into the boat, I had to, too! I was straining at my lead trying to get in.

I guess the second part of the story (realy the first) is that we weren't sure whether or not I could even go punting. Who knows how Wolfson would feel about a dog in its punts. So Dad snuck me around the back to get in the punts while everyone else got all the gear from the lodge. They met us at the harbor, and we got going before anyone could say anything! I have to tell you, though, a dog in a punt- not a terrible thing; mostly I sat looking at birds and enjoying the water, it was like a big drink!

After we struggled for a while, we stopped to have a picnic lunch on the side of the river- I even got a little bit of vin rose! It was a lot of fun, I got to have some pita bread, and some apples and carrots, and went chasing around my own little private meadow. It was actually pretty relaxing. I just wish that I had known that dry land is an oppertunity when you are a nautical dog... Later on the trip, I had to pee so badly because I didn't take the chance when I had it!

I started going crazy, whining and running back and forth on the punt looking for a place to go (but it was all like indoors where I can't pee!), I tried to get in the water, but no one would let me do that either! I think my family thought I was getting nervous on the boat and wanted to get back on land... no one thought to hold me over the boat so I could pee! Once we landed, I took the longest pee of my life, it was amazing, I just kept going like a little racehorse. After I was done, I was ready to get back in the punt, but to my dismay, punting was over! I guess such a little dog just can't hold it for 3 hours or so.

Mom and I did have a run in with a Swan. We were just happily punting along (Dad and Nana finally got the hang of it!) When all of a sudden, this Swan came out of nowhere! At first, it looked nice enough, and was probably going to the punt for a handout like it had recieved from other punters. Then the dang thing noticed me... I stood up happily to meet a new friend when it hissed at me! It seriously, hissed, and was pretty scary. But instead of just swimming away (it definately could have swam faster) it followed us for a mile, just hissing at us! It only left when it saw other punters to hit up for food! What's the deal?

What a great day on the water! I have never got to spend so much time outside before, it was really nice, and when I got home, I was pooped- I slept all day! It was awesome! This day almost made up for the clinking I recieved, and had it been the last day, it would have, too bad for short puppy memories!

Woof!

Picture 1: Me watching Dad skillfully navigate the Cherwell River

Picture 2: Look out Mom! Trees ahead!

Picture 3: Picnic on the grass

Picture 4: Mom and I stare down the evil Swan

Picture 5: Nana and I have a relaxing cruise on the water

The Best Worst Week Ever... Retrospective Part 1 of 3

This week was the best worst week ever. I am an Oxford dog- so notice that there is no comma between best and worst, making them two adjectives that describe week- no; this was the best of the worst weeks- meaning that it wasn't the worst week ever (as in the it was the best at being the worst week), but rather a week so full of highs and lows for a puppy that I didn't know if it was the best or worst week ever. I have decided it was the best worst week, making it one of the worst weeks because everything bad happened at the end and everything great happened at the beginning, and I am a puppy and puppy memory and mental state really relates to things that have just happened!

Things started out promising- Nanee and Nana came to town to visit! They stayed a whole week! And then on Sunday we had a big Sunday Roast and I got to play with Jake and Nick, Jeff and Rebecca, and Eliana! It was a house full of people to play with, and even better- I got roast meat! And that always makes for a great time! Then we went punting and had walks and longer walks, and were outside in Oxford- and the week was really great. But then towards the end of the week, things went bad, because I got put in the Clink overnight and then on Saturday I got left in the kennel for 7 hours! Then, to make things worse, everyone left on Sunday, which made me very sad because I was full of energy from being in the clink for so long.

Well, long walks, Sunday Roasts, and punting aside, meeting Nana and Nanee definately made up for being in the clink for so long, so that is alright. I am sad they are gone, and now I am acting out to my parents to try to bring them back, it isn't working though, and I haven't even gotten a long walk yet (just a short one yesterday!!). Whats a dog to do? Stay tuned for posts about punting and the rest of the week in the next two posts....

Woof!

Nanee and Nana!

Nanee and Nana are here! They arrived on Saturday- Mom and Dad left in the car for a whole 3 hours, and I thought that they had left me again, but when they got home that had nanee and nana with them! yay! So now I have more people to play with! I spent all day yesterday galloping around, having a great time. We also had Sunday Lunch which meant... Roast Meat!!! And a bunch of people came over, including Nick, which is always awesome! I played all day long with everyone.

Now I am tuckered out, but that is ok, because I can go back and forth and sleep with Mom and Dad or Nanee and Nana all I want! I am even sleeping in this morning so back to it...

Dog Fighting (Serious)

Ok, this is my serious face now. I was watching BBC Breakfast with my mom and dad the other day, and one of their stories had to do with Dog Fighting in the UK. At first, I sat up to listen, thinking they were talking about the dog wrestling I do with Dad, but I was mistaken. In fact, they actually make dogs mean to each other and try to kill each other!

 

I think I briefly heard the whole Michael Vick thing- that guy was a jerk, and I don't know if that was even handled properly- but things are much, much wierder here in the UK. In the U.S., and rightly so, Vick was blamed for his behaviour concerning those dogs- the dogs that were still healthy were rescued, even if some of them had to be put down because they were too mean or too sick (but they were put down humanely) the dogs and puppies that could be rehabilitated, were. Does that happen in the UK? No.

 

In the UK- they blame the dogs! In fact, as it turns out, pitbulls are illegal in this country. Now, I am a well bread dog, and dogs of my breed have won Crufts, so I am not worried about me, but the fact remains- I am a Staffordshire Bull Terrier (and proud of it), and the Bull part is still there. Apperently, Irish Bull Terriers, American Pitbulls, and many other types of Bull and Bull Terrier can just be hauled off and executed in this country- talk about big brother!

 

First- dogs are naturally instinctive, we used to run in packs, and we have the alpha male sense, which means we want to be the alpha male in our pack. We also hunt for food, and eat meat. It makes sense that we are tough. However- the dog breeds in question are also domesticated- meaning that our pack now consists of humans, and the alpha male (at least here in leckford road) is dad. We eat dog food out of a bowl and human food off the table- we don't hunt, and we certianly aren't savage.

 

In fact, we are what our humans want us to be. I sit, go couch, stay in a kennel, and do my business outside because that is what my alpha and mom taught me to do. Sure I am a little bull-like- I pull on the lead, and I am nippy; but my parents have taught me to be friendly and to heel when they want me to heel. I love people and other dogs, and I am just overexicited in my exuberence of being friendly like my parents taught me.

 

If overexuberience is one of our genetic personality traits, then dog owners like those in the news article I linked the title to, are just using that enthusiasm for a poor end- trust me, you have to train a dog to be mean- you have to hit it, not feed it, and make it hate other dogs- all things that since it didn't happen to me, mean I don't attack other dogs.

 

Anyway, this law against pitbulls has made sort of a dog racism in this country. Even though I am a superior breed and am one of the most beautfully showed dogs in the world, whenever I meet other dogs on the meadow, chances are the owner of that dog is not happy to let me near the dog, thinking I am a big mean pittbull- and that simply isn't the case. (A little backwards, here aren't we people?)

 

MR. BROWN- PUNISH THE HUMANS INVOLVED IN DOG-FIGHTING SO SEVERELY THAT YOU DON'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT ANY DOGS HURTING LITTLE GIRLS (because they won't want to do it anymore).

Winston Wants Chicken!!!

I think I am finally getting the art of begging down- I mean, why eat dog food when you can eat human food, right? Plus the only way dad gets to make and eat meat is if he shares it with me! I have discovered that being ultra cute is not the way to go. When I started my begging career, I would try to be real sweet- I would put my head up on dad's lap, and look at him, I would go under the table and try to jump on his lap, I would nibble at his pants legs to show that I was hungry. Oddly enough, that just got me yelled at, and I was so badorable. (Badorable- adj. my dad works for a dictionary so he can make words up I guess- this is a verbal conjunction of bad and adorable, badorable).

Finally I started to just stand there and throw tantrums. My parents thought this was funny. I would whine and bark and then stamp my feet. It is really hard to stamp your feet when you are a dog, it takes a little bit of coordination. I had to stamp my left front foot, right back foot, left back foot to get that stomp stomp stomp sound without falling over.

If I sit on the hard, cold, wood floor, I usually get a treat- but my butt is all slidey, and I don't want to sit there.

Anyway, after they eat, I usually get food, but seriously, I deserve to be fed don't I? I mean, they are suppossed to take care of me, why don't they give me there food? I only get bits, not a whole meal like them! (A few days ago, mom found out that I was barely eating half of what I was supossed to be eating, so they have been focused on getting me to eat mounds of my dog food... but I don't like it)

Well, off to beg some more, it is almost breakfast time, and that means... TOAST!

Woof!

Blinky Toy!

I got a new toy yesterday! And it... BLINKS! wahahaha! It is amazing, a blinky toy. (The picture is all red because it is dark to prove that the blinky toy actually blinks... I have never been so happy about a new toy in my life. I played with it all day yesterday, it was amazing- and more importantly, it hasn't been destroyed yet! Well... all the way destroyed at least.

 

Squeaky toy was nothing compared to this thing...

 

Anyway the story goes that Mom and Dad discovered a pet shop in the Covered Market in Oxford, one that they never knew existed. They started exploring for tough toys that I wouldn't chew up or eat (my record for a 25 cm rawhide cigar is just under 3 minutes, completely eaten, although it takes almost 1920 times that to digest (in dog minutes... still a long time). The discovered some big, thick rawhides and the blinky toy which was made for tough chewers. They gave it a shot.

 

I managed to rip one of the three balls off in an hour, but the rest of the toy is still mostly intact... so far so good! I love it so much. Dad took it away after the first ball ripped off because he didn't know of the safety of the toy after it, and put it on a bookshelf. I spent the whole time it was up there sitting and being so good to get it back! Finally they did... I am still playing with it!

 

So much fun... blinky woof!

A Broken Spirit doth a Sad Dog make

So, picture this, folks. It was Thursday, and my Mom was taking me for a walk along the canal. I was having a great time--I met a schnauzer, I sniffed the breeze, I watched bicyclists go by. Then, I found a primo poop spot and managed, even though Mom was keeping a close eye and a firm grasp on me, to smudge a little bit onto my neck (on the white part, so it was especially becoming) and on my collar.

Mom seemed disgusted at first, but then when we got to a nice grassy playground, she let me roll around with all abandon! And I mean, for about 5 minutes (35 doggie minutes!!). I thought she had finally calmed down. We even took a new route home through the meadow, along a muddy cowpath, and I had some great-smelling stuff on my feet! I really felt like a dog!

Turns out, she was leading me like a lamb to the slaughter. I knew something was wrong when she didn't take me off my leash before opening the front door. And when she started gathering up my dog towels, I tried to bolt--but what could I do? I was still leashed. And so, I resigned myself...and had a bath.

I even tried to act noble, hardly trying to escape and mostly just standing there as she unrelentingly soaped me up and rinsed me off, soaped me up and rinsed me off, soaped me up and rinsed me off...but inside my heart was breaking! I had never smelled so good in my whole life, and in a matter of 5 minutes (35 doggie minutes) she destroyed all I had built.

What's worse, she even washed my collar and in the meantime I have to wear my ridiculous baby collar. I feel like such a loser. I'm just going to go lay in a patch of sun and try to dream my troubles away.

Woof!

Wierd Spots

YAWN! (I am stretching- doggy style), I have just climbed out of a nice warm bed, under the covers next to mum and dad's feet, and I thought I would put up a post this morning before dad gets in the shower. I have to say, I protest at this treatement of me- dad's post yesterday was fragarent libel- I mean who doesn't prefer cushions to your towel kennel?

Anyway, life isn't all easy for this dog. A couple weeks ago, some mysterious spots appeared on my face, shown in the above picture. (See, this proves I am not a celebrity dog, because I don't care that these pictures are online!) You may not be able to tell from the picture, but those spots are perfectly round, tiny little bald spots on my face! (Or maybe it makes me more of a celebrity because all of the famouse ones have their nasty pictures all over the place, in magazines, etc.)

Dad thought it was pimples, but it isn't! I don't know what the heck it is! Other theories are that I got burned with a splattered liquid- when dad is cooking, I usually sit on the kitchen rug to try to get food from him, or that gunk from my eyes dried up on my fur there and when I scratched it out, I pulled out the hair.

Personally, I think tiny flea sized aliens are making crop circles...

Well, the hair is growing back, but its white for now, hopefully it turns black again! I have to have the amazing photos to, not just the nasty ones, or I'll just be like Brittany Spears!

Woof!

Master McCrazy

Ben here- Winston is still asleep in my spot on the bed. Yesterday when I went to bed I discovered Winston fast asleep on Jaci's pillows. Not caring, because they weren't my pillows, I got into bed- the dog didn't move. This morning I wake up, and the dog is next to my head! Not only that, but he has my blanket, I don't have any, and he is pushing me away with his paws!

As you can imagine, that didn't last long considering that I outweigh him by like 220 lbs, he got chucked, unceremoniously under the covers, down by my feet. I then woke up to go make coffee, and get ready for work, and he was still under there. I patted him and left. But when I came up to get a sweatshirt (It is August, and I think we need to turn on our heater again- it is a high of 12 degrees today!) and where is dog? but in my spot.

He is so cute now... but when he grows up, he better not be on my pillow, I'll tell you that much! I would have tossed him in his kennel right then and there , if he hadn't been puking a lot lately, and Jaci complaining about how hard it is to clean the kennel gets on my nerves...

You got to love the dog, but soon he is going to be spending some more time outside in the garden thinking about how dogs should behave...

My (mom's) Throne

Yesterday, Dad and Mom were having a reading/studying day because it was absolutely pouring outside. I won't go outside in the rain- I know I am English, but I just don't like to get wet, and since I am a luxury dog I just won't do it. I hold it until I am so full I just puke in the morning. (I am sure mom's blog will have something to say about that!).

 

Anyway, Mom was complaining that she and Dad were not together enough because their offices were seperate so when Dad is on the computer he is "boring". I quite agree, when he is on the computer he barely places with me- sure he'll toss my ball for me and pet me if I come under the desk, but seriously, I need 100% attention, and I just wasn't getting it!

 

Since Mom was working on her French too- Dad sugessted they would be less boring if she came into the library (Dad's office), but mom complained that she didn't have a place to sit. She and Dad went online to see if they could find a chair from Ikea or something- but no luck. They blame the Brittish- apperently we like to pay way too much money for cheap furniture! (Something about it wasn't tea that made us rebel, it was pricey balsa..."). Then Dad had a masterstroke. While mom was brooding in her office, he went downstairs and collected the chair cushions, and pillows, and brought them upstairs, and covered them with his red blanket, making a little reading spot next to the radiator and under the window!

 

Brilliant! I said, but was immediatly told off when I jumped onto the throne. Mom then came in and was plesantly suprised and did French on her chair, while I had to sit on my own blue, puffy, crappy papasan chair... ugh!

 

Then mom went to get lunch, and YOINKS! The throne was mine! You can see me above on my throne with my french books, muwhahaha! Anyway, I am the king of this house, so I should get a throne, not some measely papasan chair. You would think that the way my parents act- they were spoiling me! I mean, its not like I sleep on their pillows in bed, I have to sleep at the bottom of the bed!

 

So now, when Mom is not on the throne, its mine...

 

Woof!

Toothbrushing Saturday

Today was tootbrushing day! Normally I get a denta-bone or something of that sort to brush my teeth with- but apperently the Vet thought that was the weak way to do it, and managed to convince mom to buy some expensive chicken-flavored (delicious) toothpaste that was vet approved! Dad got me a Spongebob Squarepants toothbrush, and today we brushed my teeth!

I didn't really know what was in store for me, because I have never done this before- and it didn't help that Dad and I were dog-wrestling before we did the brushing, so I think I was more aggressive than I could have been- but the chicken toothpate was so good that I couldn't resist, I finally gave up trying to kill Spongebob and let dad brush. Unfortunately the damage was already done...

Well, I guess its back to dentabones for me! Woof!

Strong

I wish I were as strong as my dad- when we play tug of war he can pick me all the way up by the ball I am holding in my mouth! Even at night, I can't push him off of bed, even though he can push me to my spot (see previous posts). Soon I'll be big enough...

Anyway, its early, and I am a sleepy dog, so back to bed with mom for me- I can't believe dad gets up this early... yuck!

Sleeping in Bed

I have finally coerced my parents into letting me sleep in bed with them! Basically I whine, and bark, and make a racket everytime they put me into my kennel, and behold- I am in the bed! They hav even finally given up on trying to put me into the kennel for even part of the night! As a luxury dog, I require a bare miniumum of 100 thread count sheets, comforter and duvet. I don't think this is too much to ask, seeing as how I am doing the vital job of keeping their legs warm.

Dad thinks that I am willing to sleep in my "spot" (shown in the above picture). Often times when we all get into bed, I will head up to the top of the bed for goodnight kisses and licks. But really, I am going up there to see if I can get some pillow. I mean if dad and mom have pillow, why can't I? I think that is just rude that they don't give me any! Dad gets tired of it after a while, and sends me to the bottom of the bed by pushing me and saying: "go spot", but I don't care, I fight back by twisting and biting and whining. I have gotten to the point, where now I can sleep between the two of them at night.

Another place I like is under the covers. I actually will go to my spot under the covers, so I can lean up on their feet, but if I am in the middle, I like touching them both. Mom and Dad say that I am tryiing to push them off the bed, but really, I lie in the middle so I can cuddle them both at the same time, then either mom or dad will flip over, and I have to stretch to reach them! This makes it look like I am crowding the bed or pushing them off, but really I don't want either of them to feel left out.

To be fair, mom does this to dad, even when I am at the bottom of the bed, she'll try to cuddle him, he'll roll, and he ends up with no blanket, and no bed, and she has most of the bed! It used to be worse back when the bed was against the wall, because then dad or I would be smashed up against the wall which is not fun.

Also not fun- sunlight in the morning! It gets bright early here during the summer, I mean 4 am early, so even if I am not under the covers at night time, come 4 am, I am heading under- I have to crawl up onto dad's face, then nudge him until he opens up the covers enough, so I can get in. Then I crawl and cuddle on his legs until he opens them so I can be between his calves- then he can't roll so much and knock me about, plus I actually get air that way.

Dad gets up early- around 615, this is also disappointing, because then I have to go downstairs to gaurd him while he makes coffee, but as soon as he sits down to watch the news- bang! I am upstairs and back in bed! I could stay there all day!

Woof!

Rain, Rain

Its raining, its pouring, the old man is snoring, got out of bed, bonked his head, and now its four in the morning... and I'm barking!!!

I can't let my parents sleep at a time of such great rain! Not that I would go out in the rain myself, I don't like getting wet, I am a luxury dog, and do you know what that would do to my beautiful coat? Anyway, the rain brings all sorts of fun things out, like snails to eat, and birds to play with, its exciting!

Two nights ago wasn't so exciting, though, I puked four times during the night, the first time on the comforter. Mom took care of me and cleaned up the puke all four times- dad was grumpy though because he lost his blanket and then mom took the other blanket away from him because she was grumpy he wasn't cleaning puke. To be fair- dad was the one who fed me the corn cob that probably led to my puke fest, but he had to go to work in the morning and mom didn't...

Mom was revenged, though, when the next morning, as dad was cleaning the kitchen, the garbage bag split open spilling trash water and rotten watermelon all over the place!

Whats a dog to do? Its getting dirty and wet in my kingdom! Honsestly, you think they would tidy up a bit, as a luxury dog, I don't like filth...

Woof!

How Refreshing!

Mom took me for an extra-long walk today, to University Parks! It was great! I got to trot along on my extend-o-lead, smell the flowers and the poo, and even made a new friend!

His name is Simba, and even though I'm twice as old as he is, he is already much bigger than I! His parents asked Mom if I was ok with other dogs, and she said yes, that I love them. Which is absolutely right! So I got to spend a few minutes making friends with Simba. We started with the classic simultaneous bum-sniff, but soon I was jumping in arcs over Simba's back and he was trying to pet me with his ginormous paws. It was great. Probably the best five minutes I've ever had in the park.

Unfortunately, Mom wanted to keep walking, so I had to say goodbye to Simba, but I sure hope I run into him again someday. Dogs gotta play!

Woof!

Winston saves the day

Sometimes, my parents seem to imply that, while a beautiful specimen of an animal, I'm a bit useless. Well, I showed them.

Picture this: Saturday morning about 7:45. We're all in bed, and I'm snuggled under the covers to block out the sun. Suddenly, there comes a knock on the door. Do my parents move? No. But I, I leap from the bed, tearing out of the covers, and scrabble frantically at the bedroom door while my mom says, sleepily, "Winston, what the heck?" and leans up to open the door.

I race downstairs as a second knock comes. This time, thanks to my energetic warning, my parents raced downstairs to answer the door where, lo and behold, there was a delivery man with my dad's long-awaited computer. As my dad signed for it, and only then, the alarm clock started going off downstairs.

Who's useless now, huh?

King of the Castle

Family! Friends! Dog intelligentsia everywhere!

I'm back from vacation and back in my domain. I guess you could say that my time away was spent at a sort of spa. You know those places where rich people go to do yoga, eat nothing but juice and get colonics? My vacay was similar, but just with a different sort of discipline. And more food.

Jake and Ruth took great care of me, but I was unfortunately forced to live as a dog, often spending up to six hours in my kennel at a time! That was ok, though, because I found that after the first day the kennel time became an almost spiritual experience, where I could go into a zen-like state and meditate on life, doghood, and the water dish. Instead of yoga or Pilates I was treated to vigorous afternoon catch sessions, sometimes with like-minded canine enlightenment-seekers. And, though living on a farm makes a dog stinky, I was allowed to revel in my smelliness--no baths were taken in the two weeks (which, you'll remember, is like three and a half months in dog years). I even got an evening supper delight--little packets of delicious and meaty stew made for fussy little dogs that expect the best, like me!

Anyway, it was fantastic, and eventually I stopped trying to pull Jake back to the car to take me home. I was glad to see my parents again, though, and get back to the life in the lap of luxury; Dad even convinced Mom to let me sleep in the bed for a coming-home treat. And there was a minimum of kennel time today. I will never forget, though, my lovely time at the Jake and Ruth Spa at the Lower Farm.

A Family Excursion

Today was Awesome!! Right now, my buddies Jake and Ruth Ann are in France watching guys running over dogs, I mean, the Tour de France, so Mom and Dad and I had borrowed a car from some friends for various runnings around and because they left to "go home" (wherever that is--this seems like home to me!). But we had to drop it off today, and because Dad's city bike broke, we decided to make the long walk home an excursion for the whole family!

We dropped off the car at about 4:35 and set out. It was a beautiful sunny day today and let me tell you, I was pretty happy to be outside. First we walked up a giant hill, then along a high, grassy strip of land, through a neighborhood, a shopping center, and a whole different meadow than yesterday. And I got to walk through Mom's college! I was very proud of myself.

By the time we finally got back to friendly territory, though, I'll admit I was pretty pooped. I tried to dive into the veterinarian's, but Mom and Dad drug me home instead (what can I say--I really like the treat's Jo the nurse gives me!). When we got home it was after 6:15--we walked for almost two whole hours! Even Mom and Dad admitted that they were pretty tired by the last thirty minutes or so.

I tried to bring home a nice souvenir by rolling in some poo along the way, but all that got me was an unceremonious dunking in the bathtub (my second this week, so Mom wasn't happy either, but she only washed my poo spot this time). Now I'm just going to crash downstairs with Dad and watch a bit of the Tour de D0g-Rolling highlights on T.V. and think back on our awesome family excursion. Woof!

The Duck Strikes Back

One of my favourite things to do on runs with Mom is terrorize the ducks that sleep on the end of the canal. Fun for me, fun for them, I thought. Until yesterday.

Mom and I were taking the long route to Fiddler's Island, and I had been sending every duck for at least the last half mile scurrying for cover. And we ran past the next batch, I slowed down because one duck hadn't moved, and I wanted to get a closer look. Mom had just kept running, but I was on the extend-o lead so that was fine. I got closer and closer. The duck just kept looking at me.

Suddenly, with a flutter of wings and a low hiss, the duck leapt into the air and hovered just above my head like a kung-foo movie star! Mom looked back at this point, her mouth dropping open, and yanked me to safety. I was ok, just a little startled and confused. Whatever happened to the natural order of things?

Which leads me to believe that either 1) this duck had a nest nearby or 2) this duck is half duck, half Jackie Chan. Probably the result of some illegal laboratory testing. How do you like those reasoning skills?

Woof!

Bring your doggie to work day

I wish. I keep trying to accompany Dad to work, but he somehow always manages to slip out and leave me with my ultra-boring mother. Today, when she didn't deliver a promised walk promptly, I was forced to destroy a brand-new roll of toilet paper to express my frustration. (I got a nice long walk in the end.) But that doesn't mean I'm not ready for the day Dad decides to take me with him.

As you can see here, I even dress to impress in colours to match my dad. I mean, he could probably take me with him and no one would think anything of it. I would blend in like the perfect accessory.

I guess until that day comes I'll just keep building up my range of colour collars and keeping my coat nice and shiny. A dog can dream, can't he?

Woof!

Whoops, caught with my eyes closed!

My Fantasy Football

My new friend Marrissa and I go after the Football like a shot!

The Fourth of July was yesterday, and my colonist parents of course put up a serious rukus- but not as much of a rukus as I managed to put up! It was a good day all in all, especially because they took me to the Merton Sports Grounds with them for an American Style BBQ and Fireworks, but most importantly- American style football!

I was let off the lead to roam around, and in order to impress my parents, I didn't go to crazy on the many people that were there, I just ran around wagging my tail at some, and jumping on those that said hi to me, gave them a lick and moved on. I stayed pretty close by, although, this one time I followed this bearded guy around the back of the building and mom had to chase me down... Needless to say, the guys started a game of pick up football, and that is when I really learned to love Cornwallis' folly.

I would run around between the players following the ball. As soon as one of them dropped it, I was off like a rocket with it! Five grown men hot on my heels- and I love the attention. I managed to get my tooth stuck in one of the laces by accident, and those guys aren't exactly gentle (my dad had to come in and defend me at one point, I may look like a big dog, but I am just a puppy!) but I'm ok, because it was so awesome. I made the brand new football look like a worn and ratted old thing! So much fun! I even got some meat from the BBQ.

Later on I was chauffered home so that I could sleep off the excitement, it was too much for a puppy to handle! I heard that my parents stayed and set off fireworks, and woke all of St. Catherine's College by singing a cat howl version of the national anthem. What do you do? I was so pooped, I haven't had that much excitement in a long time!

Woof!

Back from the Clink

Well, folks, I'm safely back in the arms of my so-called "loving" family. Who knew the "resort" I was promised would be all bars and concrete!

No, I didn't get to meet other dogs, either. They kept us all in solitary confinement unless we brought brothers or sisters along. And I'm an only child!

Even worse, if I didn't eat my food, it got picked up! I'm used to just snacking all day. And now my parents have been doing it too...they may have been "bad habits" for them, but not for me!

Sure, we got some time outside everyday, but not enough. My figure is a wreck! I was out with the personal trainer for a midday run between showers, and let me tell you, I need it!

I did manage to get some special treatment by putting up a stink at bedtime. To think, these people didn't even let me sleep in their bed! I demand the lap of luxury at all times. One of the ladies had to compromise and crawl into my cell and pet me to sleep. Still, I'm not entirely impressed with the standard of service.

I tried to keep myself angry at my parents, but I was just so relieved to see them that I simply couldn't resist giving them some kisses between reproving nibbles. Three days in a giant kennel! The nerve!

Woof!

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!