My Mother is Mean to Me

The question is Ange ou Demon? I am a licky demon, a sad angel...

Non Sequiter Day at Winston's World

I am not a big fan of my mother right now...

Read my last post for better reading:

http://winstonbengfort.blogspot.com/2008/06/superman-is-not-cat.html

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!

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!

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!

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!

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!

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!

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!

20 Days Later

This is the part where most bloggers apologize for not uploading something in 20 days and then give excuses about why they were unable to do things. I however, am not going to apologize, I am a dog- it is spring; there are certain things that a dog has to do when it is spring, and certain urges and feelings that must be met. However, for two reasons I am back to you on the world wide web today: 1) The weather has turned really crappy, really quickly; and 2) My celebrity demands it!

For most dogs, the most technologically advanced they get is with GPS tracking chips that carry all their veterinary information implanted into them in case they get lost, stolen, or have to travel abroad. I jumped on that bandwagon when I was 4 months old. However, as already discussed I have become an international dog of mystery what with my blog writing, my face book profile, possible youtube.com debut, and my international friends list. Although I have yet to be abroad, I do have a few trips scheduled for the upcoming months and years.

I believe it is because I am a dog ahead of my time that has earned me my celebrity, and to tell you the truth, being famous is tough, especially for an 8 month old! Friday I had cosmetic surgery just to maintain my good looks and good behavior, my father had to get a job to support my picky eating habits (which are almost to the point of anorexia), and I behave like a rock star whenever I get the chance- trashing whatever room I am staying in.

Then there are the paparazzi- always trying to take a picture of me, forcing me to always be on my cutest. Then when something not so cute gets shot, the light is bad, or a weird angle (not to mention photoshop), all the tabloids want to make fun and mock me. I mean, what is that about? Can you say invasion of privacy?

But what is a dog to do? I think I need a spot on "The Simple Life" just to relax for a few weeks.

Woof!