Squirrelicious

Hi my name is Diesel and I'm a squirrel addict.

Whenever I see the small grey bushy tailed critters run my entire being begins to quiver with the prospect of a chase. Unfortunately the instance before my brain registers the sighting with the reaction I usually hear a slight, barely audible, sigh from my owner and a perceptible pull on the leash. She is actually able to brace herself for the spring loaded, cat-like explosion rendered from my hindquarters muting my attack before it even begins.

"Sit, sit Diesel, sit, no chasing squirrels, squirrels are our friends....."

Didn't anyone tell her I'm a dog? I try to communicate my maddening frustration with continued lunges and loud whines but end up relinquishing my desires to continue the walk.

Fear not friends in the evening at her feet, curled up on the rug, lulled to sleep by her foot petting my coat I chase that squirrel over mountain tops, under highway passes and always, always reach my prey. What she doesn't know is at the end that squirrel and I share stories over nuts and bones and parts ways as friends:)

Hi my name is Diesel and I'm a squirrel addict, but I'm also a dog a very friendly dog at that.

We're not Welcome

Today was a bright and sun shining day in my city - Vancouver. So family set out in the car with the little howler in tow and drove across town, I think we even went over a bridge! I wasn't sure what was happening until I was let out of the car and saw the "Welcome to West Vancouver" sign. I bet your thinking I didn't know Diesel could read, well I can, and lately my female owner has been so preoccupied with the little pup I've taken to staring at the spines of book on the shelf that's at my height.

So we're in "West Vancouver" and it's happy time with the sun shining and people all about the little pup's contraption is opening and he's plopped into the wheeler walker. I'm not to crazy about the stroller, as the humans call it, because although I get to walk proudly beside every once and awhile helplessly easily distracted female owner runs over my paw. Can't she just steer straight? Thankfully both my owners are along for the trip which means I get man handled, literally. He takes control of my leash and we walk a bit before he settles on a nice little piece of green grass to toss the ball for me. I can't help but notice the sign with a picture of a pup and a red cross through it. I guess they don't like white dogs here. I personally have nothing against white dogs but some of the little yappy ones do get on my nerves. I'm good to go though because I have milk chocolate brown fur. There's no sign banning me.

After a few good tosses it's back on the leash for some more walking. We start walking next to the beach I can see the water and you know how I feel about the water but still I can't help but notice just how much signage there is banning the little white dogs. Too bad this place is nice. Finally my owner takes off the leash and I take off for the water.

After many, many stick returns, ball returns and shaking water off my fur I'm back on the leash for more walking. This day is going great! Then I hear my female owner say something about no dogs allowed on the sea wall??? Then it clicks in my thick skull maybe those signs were banning dogs, not just the little white ones now that I think about it the little black ones are just as yappy.

So my question is this: What do humans have that dogs don't that makes it OK for them to walk on the sea wall and not us?

Oh and please do not blame it on our waste disposal because just the other day my female owner and I were walking in the park and I saw a human male taking a piss beside MY tree. Of course I had to show him how it's really done I mean come on man you gotta lift a leg!

Diesel the Dancing Dog

I don't know what's up with this time of year. The weather has been the same for awhile with the wet stuff pelting my fur during walks and night time lasting much longer than usual. My owners however have found a new source of energy I'm not privy to. For example today I went for my morning walk as usual, came home, ate my bowl down to the last drop and went to take my first nap. It's my routine I like it it's quiet and starts the day off right, but just before drifting off my female owner turn up the music. Of course I had to check it out and wound up both front paws on either side of her hips swaying side to side. "Dance with me Diesel" she says. I have to say I'm quite the dancing dog but only if the tempo is right, speed it up too much and my back paws can't keep up, sliding all over. I survived the song but from the look in her eyes I don't think I've finished my dancing duties today.

Best day of the year

Christmas

The holiday season has arrived. What's it like for a dog you might ask, well let me tell you it's not as nice for us as you might think. Waiting outside the stores for my owner feels like an eternity instead of just a quick stop. I can't count the number of times I've patiently waited for a little piece of a tasty treat to drop at the gatherings only to hear "sorry, Diesel chocolates are bad for dogs." Then how come humans can eat so many without tragic results?

The hardest part is we have this tree with lots of little lights and shiny things.....SHINY THINGS! I know I'm not supposed to get too close and quite frankly I'm a little nervous it might fall down on me, but there's this one at the top that sparkles, it's hard to resist.

The funnest part of holiday season is Christmas morning when I see my bleary eyed owner walking down the stairs and heading toward the fireplace where she picks up this giant sock. Now I don't really wear socks and this one is clearly not my size but I've become quite fond of the sight of this sock. I tremble while she pulls out the goodies placing them on the floor, unwrapping the packaging, I watch on the verge of uncontrolled exhilaration waiting for that one bog bone, the one at the bottom it's always there she pulls it out last and hands it to me first. I snatch it up quickly, tail whacking the walls as I find my place and dig in.

That place, my friends, is a place of peace and productivity as I systematically rake my teeth over the hard surface. In my peaceful place after my exhilaration has quieted I look up to have a peek at my family and can palpate the love in the air. Usually in my euphoric state I feel the need to spread the love back and rub up against each and everyone of those silly humans. I show off my bone and the progress I have made so far all the while making it clear it's mine they'll have to get a bone of their own.

Now I know there is something about a old man in a red suit and white hair but for me Christmas is all about my family we spend the whole day together eating treats and taking long walks. It might just be one of the best days of the year:)

So here's to peace on earth and goodwill between people and animals Merry Christmas everyone!

Sharing a room

I love to sleep in my crate at night. Only at night, during the day it is much nicer to lounge on the balcony in the sun or curl up at my owners feet. Night time is great in my crate I get my beauty rest all the while knowing the first thing I get to do in the morning is go for a walk. What a nice way to wake up right?

Well, that has all changed now and I'm not sure how I feel about this yet. Ever since the new puppy, Reid, came home I've been forced to share my room. He sleeps in a crate much higher than mine with no top which also has a spinning musical piece (OK that part is pretty cool I wish I had a spinning musical piece on my crate); however, Reid has taken to.......well how can I describe it?

I think a high pitched howl about sums it up AND he does this multiple times during the night. So now when he wakes me from my slumber my beloved owner comes into the room, but it's not to take me out for a walk, noooooo. Instead she takes the little howler out into the living room for awhile. I bet he's getting in trouble for the howling, it's not allowed in the house. Somehow though he's just not getting the message since he continues to howl every single night since he came. Maybe he's slow to train; he's not part Labrador like me.

How do I know he's not part Labrador you ask. Well I've seen them put him in the water and this also solicits the howling response from the little bugger. They also have to hold him because I don't think he can swim yet. Labs can do this from birth, we're special this way, we LOVE the water. We even have special webbing in between our toes to make us swim faster!

To sum things up so far this new puppy can't swim and howls a lot, especially when I'm sleeping good thing he has some great smells going for him.

And then there were 5

My happy go lucky, dance like no one is watching owners left for a couple of nights. I knew something was up when they got out the bags, but usually I get to go too? This time they left me behind. OK, fine they always come back, they always come back.....but this time when they came back they brought an itty bitty, tiny puppy home.

I know it's puppy because he eats at the breast like how I used to when I lived with my mother and my siblings. We used to scramble over each other to get to the milk, but this puppy doesn't have to fight or struggle he has his own, actually he has two. My owners call the puppy "Reid" other people call it "the baby". Either way his bark needs work.

So far it's not so bad I still get out for walks but my female owner can't go as often any more so when I can I curl up by her feet just to be near her. She's still my favorite, but I have to admit this new puppy does have more interesting smells. I sniff his bum a lot (he doesn't return the favor yet).

I figure I'm open, I'm adaptable let's see what this new little puppy has in him....it could be fun!

Where has the sun gone?

The last two mornings have been a little rougher getting up and out of the crate when it's time for the morning walk. As I'm stretching at the door of the elevator considering another lie down the door opens and in we go. Now I'm a little more awake and I can feel my bladder stretching, yearning for the outside world now, a little release. Then I get to the front door and blink my tired eyes over and over. I see MY tree ahead but I can't help noticing the little river of water running down the sidewalk, where did that come from?

As we're stepping out the door I glance over at a fully covered foot stepping across the threshold. These are called "shoes" by my owners they don't make the same flip, floppy sound like the ones she is usually wearing.

Oh, ugg, I just got spattered in the face with water. Normally I LOVE the water, swimming, drinking, splashing playing but there's just something about rain that makes me uncertain. I look down pound the pavement, do my "business" (by the way why do humans call it business) there's no transaction involved I leave my product and at the most someone picks it up and throws it away - where's the business in that?) and head for cover. What I don't get is why she always wants to walk around in the rain more. She's covered head to toe getting splattered by the tiny pellets of water and she insists on continuing.

It's a good thing I know I'll get a big bowl of food when we return otherwise I'd probably run for cover while waiting and watching her trudge along in the rain. But I don't leave her, I'd never leave her she seems so fragile walking in the rain.