Yay me!

That's me. E. C. D.

Hi. I'm Oliver. And I'm super excited because I just got a big promotion at Haberman. Yep, I'm the new self-proclaimed ECD. 

Executive. Creative. Director. 

That's the person who leads all the creative at the agency. It also means I'm my mom's boss. My mom's boss' boss, actually. But she's cool about stuff like that. And I can get treats in exchange for doling out cool projects to work on. 

"You wanna work on that TV assignment? I need 4 bully sticks!" This is going to be awesome! Yay me!

With a big title also comes a lot of responsibility, though. Like I really need to get to meetings on time. To not fall asleep during meetings. To not scratch on the door and leave meetings during meetings. And to not scratch on the door to get back into those meetings. Dang, that's a pretty big ask for a curious little guy like me. But I'm up for it. And I'm going to do a great job.

More importantly, I still have my bed here so I'm assuming I can take a nap or two if I really need to. I'm a dog so I think people will understand if I get tired sometimes. Dogs are supposed to get at least 18 hours of sleep a day so a nap is totally fair.

My first project is for Stella and Chewy's raw dog food. Working on this is so fun because I get to taste all the foods and treats. (So far, I like the rabbit flavor best.) I invited the junior team to the tasting too but they declined. I eat their food, but they won't try mine. WTF? It's a little irritating, but they're young and squeamish. I get it. And they do give me a lot of good belly scratches so I'll cut 'em some slack. 

Well, I'm off to a brainstorm so I better go. Can't be late to my meeting! I'll try to post again soon and let you know how this all goes. 

The end.

Ollie

I love Cheetos® almost as much as Lyra

Hi. I'm Oliver. And that's my cousin Lyra. She really likes Cheetos®. Especially the big puffy kind of Cheetos®. She would do anything for Cheetos®. Cheetos® turn Lyra into a little Cheeto-eating robot. I'm not a little Cheeto-eating robot so I guess I don't like Cheetos® as much as Lyra. But I like them a lot.

That video was taken at my first dad's birthday party. It was really fun because I got to go to the party and didn't have to stay home while everyone got to go to a party. Still, I don't see what the big deal is about birthday parties. People just sit around and talk and eat. And I end up following my mom around – just like I do at home. 

I followed my mom a lot. I followed and sniffed Lyra a lot too because she's little and easy to sniff. And she's really funny. When I sniff her she calls out "No, Ollie. No!" But it's so dang cute that it's hard to take her seriously. So I kept sniffing her. Until my mom stepped in and made me stop. I would stop too if Lyra got mad enough to cry. That would just be "mean sniffing" if I made little Lyra cry.

I wish I could be around more people Lyra's size. It makes me feel really big when I can jump up on someone and my arms reach his/her shoulders. But that doesn't happen too often. So I really take advantage of my time with Lyra. 

I really like Lyra. I like Lyra even though she didn't share her Cheetos® with me. I didn't even get a sniff. Not even when I walked towards her while she crammed Cheetos® into her mouth and got a big orange ring on her face. Nope. All I got was another, "No, Ollie. No!" But it was really cute, so I just let it go. I'm nice like that.

Well, my mom's getting ready to take some trash outside so I better bark at her and follow her out to the trash can. There's no fooling this guy about going outside. I know how you humans like to sneak out and leave. And no one's leaving on my watch. Unless you give me some Cheetos®. I'd turn the other way for a Cheeto.

The end.

Ollie

Blog more. Guess I really f'ed that up.

Hi. I'm Oliver. And I suck at holding down the blog fort. (That's fort, not fart. I'm really good at farting.) But this past year, well, so much has happened. I mean, just look at my picture. Clearly you can see how busy I've been. 

My mom's been really busy too. And when she's really busy, I'm really busy – following her around, making sure she doesn't drop any food bits on the floor. Or leave. I hate it when she leaves. 

So, here's my new blog plan, homies. My new blog plan is to write a post about each big event that happened to me over the past year. But in case I get another big ol' case of "lazyass" and fall behind on my posts, here are the highlights:

1. My mom went to see the Replacements. In Chicago. Yep, up and left me to go see some dumb band from her youth. Who does that?

2. My mom got married. I got stuck at Grammie's. Lame. Not that I don't love my Grammie. I do. But she's not my mom. And I don't like it when it's not my mom. 

3. My mom went on a little honeymoon after the wedding. I hung tight at Grammy's. Yep. Taking one for the team.

4. Due to the marriage, I got a new dad and new step brother named Dom. I talked about Dom before, but now it's official. And he's the coolest. He's also going to be driving soon and then he can go get me treats. 

5. My mom discovered that I'm afraid of farts. Not just any fart, but the really loud and scary ones that humans can make with their hands. Dang they really freak me out. I mean, I would do anything (like go to my mom when she calls me even though there's a big-ass squirrel I could chase) to stop that horrible sound. To make matters worse, everyone thinks it's funny. And that really pisses me off. I need to get stronger and stand up to the farts. But that will take time. I'll keep you posted.

6. My mom got a new job. I got stuck at home. Which leads me to my next great adventure: me making some negotiations with some landlords so I can go to work with my mom. It's not going to be easy, but I'm pretty cute so I can make it happen. I just have to be extra careful to not poop on the floor. Not that I do, but sometimes things just get stuck in your fur for a while and then land on the floor. 

I think more stuff happened too, but I can't remember right now. I'm a little tired from barking at the mailman (I mean mail woman, I mean postal carrier) who dropped of some mail in our mail box. She seems to that every day at this time. Go figure. 

Yep. I'm taking a nap now.

SQUIRREL!

No. Just a bird. 

Back to taking a nap.

The end.

Ollie

My mom is home!

I'm super excited my mom is home.

Hi. I'm Oliver. And you know what? My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! 

My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home! My mom is home!

Yep. My mom just got home from work and I'm super happy about it. I'm always happy when she comes home so today I decided to write about it. Yay! My mom is home!

The end.

Ollie

Guess What I'm Allergic To

Me all out of it after my allergy test.

Hi. I'm Oliver. And this picture was taken right after I went to the doggy dermatologist for some allergy testing. I was really out of it because they gave me a big doggy sedative so I wouldn't feel all the skin poking they do for the allergy testing.

The sedative part of the allergy testing was really fun because it made me feel all floaty and relaxed (probably like how my mom feels after a nice glass of wine). Getting up and walking around after the test, however, was not fun because I felt super swirly and kept tipping over. 

Not only that, I had a huge polka-dotted bald spot on my side. And there was no way I was going to impress the hot little Beagle in the waiting room with a blemish like that. It was the size of the Hindenburg. And took a huge chunk out of my confidence. I mean, I wanted to look ruff and tough. Not like a clumsy old turdbag with a bad case of bacne (back acne), or in my case, sidene. 

Needless to say, I felt pretty out of it and self conscious for the rest of the day. I tried really hard to not let it show, hence the photo of me falling asleep while sitting up and trying to look alert. But even I couldn't bulldoze my way through all that brain fog. Not even when I saw a squirrel running around in my peripheral vision.

Squirrel!

Complaining aside, the allergy test uncovered some very interesting information. And it turns out I'm allergic to one thing. Humans. Yep, the cuddliest guy in the world is allergic to the things he loves most. (Sigh. Make that a really big sigh.) 

At first I was really freaked out. But thanks to some super smart doggy pharmaceutical companies, I can still be around humans. I just need to take some really expensive allergy medication until I can get on some allergy shots. So it's a win-win. A win for me and my mom. And a win for the pharmaceutical economy.

My mom also told me that being allergic to humans is pretty common. In fact, she thinks it's kind of cute. Or ironic. Or one of those other weird human words I don't understand. More importantly, my mom said my quirks (like my allergies and the way I poop in circles) are what make me special. And I like being special. So I'm just going to go with what she says.

Yay me!

The end.

Oliver

Happy Mother's Day, Bitches!

That's not me. But that's what I looked like
after trying to pick flowers for my mom.

Hi. I'm Oliver. And I want to wish all the nice mommies I know a Happy Mother's Day. I know lots of mommies so this could take a while.

(I should also remind you that I don't mean anything negative or derogatory by the term bitches. For me, it's just another word for females. Okay, back to my Mother's Day wishes.)

Happy Mother's Day to my birth mom, Oakley. (In case you didn't know, I'm adopted.) She was my momma for 6 weeks before my human family picked me up and gave me a new home. I was sad to leave her, but she said that humans need dogs to make them happy. And I would make my human family really happy. I don't know if that's a big crock-o-crap, but I like that story so I'm going to believe it.

Happy Mother's Day to my real mom. She's the human lady I make happy every day. Sometimes she gets mad at me (like when I pick flowers for her that don't belong to me), but most of the time she loves me a lot. Like a real lot. Yay me!

She gets an extra paragraph in my blog because I want her to know all the things she does that I'm grateful for. My allergy medicine. My belly and chin scratches. The way she puts cheese on my food sometimes. When she takes me for walks and runs. All the toys she gets me. All the treats she gives me. And all the times she lets me under the covers to sleep. Yay under the covers!

Happy Mother's Day to my Grammie. She's my mom's mom and she's a nice lady. I get to stay with her when my mom has to go out of town. She's really nice to me. And she takes lots of naps. I'm always good and rested when I come home from Grammie's.

Happy Mother's Day to Claudia. She the mom of my new dad, Jim. She's a nice lady and I see her a lot in the summer when we all go to the cabin. I like the cabin. It's in front of the biggest water dish ever. (Claudia calls that big water dish a lake.)

Happy Mother's Day to Ann. She's Jim's sister and she has three kids. I like them and make them really happy at the cabin. Especially when I get the zoomies after jumping in and taking a drink from my "lake." (It's so funny that they call my water dish a lake.)

Happy Mother's Day to Stephanie. She's Jim's other sister and she has three kids. Stephanie is the lady I hide behind when I can't find my mom and there are fireworks going off at the cabin. That makes her kids laugh.

Happy Mother's Day to Katie. She's Jim's other other sister and she has two kids. Delilah and Penelope are my best friends at the cabin. They used to be afraid of me, but I worked really hard and got them to be my best friends. Katie is also a dog mom. She has two weener dogs, Roger and Noonan. I peed on Roger's head once, but it was an accident.

Okay, those are the moms I'm closest to. But I also want to say Happy Mother's Day to all the moms out there. Moms are the best thing ever, whether you're biologically related or adopted. Yay moms!

The end.

Ollie

Look How Cute I Am

Hi. I'm Oliver. And I just got my hair cut. Normally I hate it when I get my hair cut. But this time, I'm getting so much attention from the ladies, I don't mind it so much. Yay me!

If you remember from previous posts, you know I don't like getting haircuts. In just a matter of hours I go from looking like a bad-ass teddy bear dog to a wimpy little weenie-ass dog. I mean, look at my skinny legs. It's hard to impress the bitches with skinny little legs like mine. Oh, and that stupid polk-a-dotted kerchief doesn't help either. I swear my stylist thinks I'm a girl. 

It doesn't really matter though. Because all the attention I'm getting from the human ladies is making it all worth it. Young human ladies, old human ladies, even funny-smelling human ladies go nuts over my new haircut. They're all like (and I'm quoting here), "OMG he's so cute. I love him! I want to take him home with me!" Then I get a bunch of belly scratches, chin scratches, head scratches and under-my-collar scratches. 

By the way, I don't know what an OMG is. And if it's a bad word or a swear, I wasn't really saying it, just repeating it. (My mom says it's not nice to swear even though she does it a lot. Especially when she gets stuck in traffic.) 

Anyway, I just wanted to make sure I'm not saying stuff I shouldn't be saying. Human language isn't nearly as clear or distinct as dog. I mean, how anyone couldn't understand what I mean by "WOOF!" is beyond me.

I should also say that I just thought of another good thing about my haircut. (Aside from the fact that it makes my wang look bigger, as I mentioned a few posts ago.) My skinny body makes my head look huge, and that makes my brain look huge and me look extra smart. 

Big brained and big-wanged Ollie, that's me! 

The end.

Ollie

Up Yours, Mother Nature

My snowy 7th birthday. Booo.

Hi. I'm Oliver. And today I'm a little pissed. First of all it's snowing. Again. On May 3rd. Not only does that suck because it's MAY 3RD, it's also my birthday. And now my mom's crabby on my birthday.

I should be jumping all around in my birthday picture, but I'm not. I'm just sitting on the nice couch, being all mellow. 

My mom did tell me to "sit" and "stay" for my birthday picture, so maybe my mellowness is a little misleading. But it still sucks that it's snowing on my birthday.

One good thing about my birthday is that I get to go with my mom to her work today. I even get to use her laptop while she works on her big work computer.

Another good thing about my birthday is that I always get canned dog food for my birthday dinner. I really like that soft stuff and I can eat it really fast. Like in three gulps I'm done. I do need to be careful though. Sometimes when I eat too fast it makes my tummy feel funny and weird stuff happens to my poop.

Another fun thing I get to do on my birthday is go to the Minnehaha Falls park and sniff all around. I usually see lots of other doggies there, but with all the stupid weather, maybe there won't be any. Still, I don't need to worry about that. I'm a doggie and I'm only able to live in the moment and focus on right now. Doggies don't worry about what might happen in the future. Planning ahead is not how we roll.

(There's a squirrel! There's a squirrel, there's a squirrel, there's a squirrel!) See?

The one not fun thing I'm doing on my birthday is getting my haircut. I'm heading to the doggie salon soon and I know it's going to suck asphalt. I mean, look at the afro I'm sporting. It's bad enough when I have regular long hair. But trimming all this madness is going to take forever. I even heard my mom say she wants my stylist to trim my ear hairs. Yep, my ear hairs. Now that's some serious grooming.

Well, it's my birthday so I'm going to use that as an excuse to stop writing. If you want to get me some presents, I do like treats. All kinds of treats. 

Yay treats!

The end. 

Ollie

My New Year’s Resolutions

Resolutions created 12/31/12

Hi. I'm Oliver. And this is my update on the resolutions I made for  2013. I'll start with the actual resolutions I made for 2013 since I never posted them and you probably can't read my mind.

(You can't read my mind, can you? Sometimes I think my mom can. Like when she tells me "no" before I even stick my head in the garbage...how does she already know I want to get in there and start sniffing all the crazy things she throws away? It's weird.) 

Anyway, if you look to the left, those are my resolutions for 2013. Make that Resolutions with a capital "R" because these Resolutions are some major big deals.

1. Spend less time looking for the perfect place to poop. I'm doing pretty good on this one. I used to sniff around and around and around in search of the best spot to launch my logs. Lots of dogs do it because we want our poops to cover any sign of other animals. But now I only check out 2 or 3 places before I pull the chute. If I can't find any good smells to cover up I don't worry about it. I just work my butt magic and back in the house I go.

2. Blog more. Fail. Complete and utter fail. I haven't blogged since January of 2012. To make matters worse, I don't even have a good excuse. No major paw injury, no distracting life changes. Just pure laziness. At least I'm doing it now. And I am pretty proud that I used the word "utter" correctly. I first wrote "udder" which is actually a cow boob. Thankfully I caught it before I pressed "publish."

3. Stop Smoking. Major success on this one. In part because I never smoked in the first place. I just wanted one of my Resolutions to be easy so I could get some extra belly scratches from my mom. The only downside is that I did gain some weight (just like the people who really do quit smoking), but I can deal with that Resolution in 2014.  

4. Learn how to relax when people leave. I put this one on my list of Resolutions to please my mom, but it's never going to happen. Seriously. No amount of cheese, turkey, hand claps, choke collar pulls or "Ollie!" yells will get me to stop. I tried, I can't control myself, and that's that. So if you want to come over, hang out and then go back out into that big crazy world on my watch, that's your business. But I won't be happy about it. And I won't stop letting you know it until you walk away and I can't see you from the front window anymore. In other words, deal with it.

5. Stop scratching myself so much. Two words: YAY ME! I don't hardly scratch myself at all now. All my chest hair has grown back, no more infections on my skin and I'm feeling so much better. I can't take all the credit though. My mom took me to a doggie dermatologist and she did this special skin test on me. Turns out, I'm allergic humans. Yep. I'm allergic to humans and that's why I was itching so much. So I'm taking a really cool medicine that works really well and tastes really good because my mom gives it to me hidden in a treat. Just so you know, I really like treats. Especially chewy chicken pill pocket treats. The medicine is very expensive, but my mom said I'm worth it. Again, YAY ME! Eventually I have to go on some allergy shots which will totally suck. For now, though, I'm a happy boy. 

The end.

Ollie

Treats Trump

Hi. I'm Oliver. And no matter what I'm doing, I will stop doing it for a treat. Even really fun things I will stop doing for a treat. Like when my mom was getting out her Christmas decorations, I got to play with an old Weeble Wobble™ Santa Claus. I was super curious about it, especially because it made a noise every time I kicked it. I loved playing with that little Santa toy. But as soon as I heard the word treat, that Santa toy was history. 


That being said, I didn't actually hear the word treat. I just heard what I thought was the sound of my treat bag opening. So I had to see if a treat was coming out. It wasn't, but even the potential of a treat trumps all the other stuff I do. Even if I'm already eating a treat, a new treat trumps the old treat. Of course, that may sound dumb to you humans, but that's just the way dogs are. They're totally ADHD. More specifically, unmedicated ADHD.  


Anyway, back to my story about me ditching the Weeble Wobble™ Santa toy for the chance to get a treat.


If you need a visual aide to help you understand what I'm talking about, I have one. It's that video at the beginning of my blog. Just hit the arrow button and my video will play in my blog. Speaking of my blog, I'm blogging again. Two blog posts in one month. Yay me! That's pretty good. Although if someone came in and offered me a treat, I'd totally stop blogging and go eat my treat. But since my mom's at work, I doubt anyone is going to walk in and give me a treat. 


If that did happen, that would be creepy. Because no one should be walking in and giving me a treat when my mom's at work. I won't eat any stupid, breaking-and-entering guy's treat. You never know where that treat came from. Sure, I eat a lot of dirty crap off the floor. Sometimes I even eat crap. But treats involving strangers and creepy situations is where I draw the line. 


Yep. That's the only thing that trumps a treat--me being too freaked out to enjoy the treat. I might eat that treat a little later, like once I had a chance to warm up to the treat and get comfortable in my surroundings. But not until I do that safety stuff. 


That's right. One little sign of creepiness and it's no treat for this guy. Not even a lick or a sniff of the treat if I'm not comfortable. But most of the time I'm comfortable with my treats. And the most important thing to remember is that I really like treats. So if you've got any to spare, send 'em on over. Not in person (or I might not eat them), but in a little plastic Ziploc™ bag with a note to my mom. I'll let her examine the treats and make sure they're safe so all I have to do is eat them.


I like treats. I should go sniff the garbage basket in the bathroom. What's that guy doing walking his dog down the street? Weird-o.


See what I mean? Doggie ADHD.


I like treats.


The end. 


Ollie 

Happy New Year! (4 days late)

Hi. I'm Oliver. And like I always seem to say...man it's been a long time since I've written in my blog. Yeah. I'm a turd face when it comes to writing in my blog. However, that's all about to change. (For reals this time.) Because writing in my blog more often is one of my New Year's resolutions. (So is not getting all pissed when someone leaves my house, but that's a whole other blog.) Regardless, I will honestly try to write in my blog more often. 


So much has happened since I last wrote in my blog. My foot is all better. I've chased like a million squirrels. I went swimming for the first time (and it totally freaked me out). I've sniffed a lot of new ass (met a lot of cool people). I've visited my Grammy a lot. I've barked at the mail woman every day–well, every Monday through Saturday. And I didn't poop in the house once because you can't count the cling-ons that stick to my butt fur. Yay me!


I've done a lot more stuff than that, but it's too much to write down in one blog. This is a good start, though. One thing I will write about is that picture of me. It was taken at mom's boyfriend's cabin over in Wisco (that's short for Wisconsin). It's a fun cabin and I get to sniff and run around and do all kinds of fun dog stuff. That's where I went swimming too. The cabin is on this big lake. I mean the lake is right in the back yard of the cabin. Anyway, it was really hot one day up at the cabin and my mom, who was worrying about me again, plopped me into the water to cool me off.


At first I was super pissed about being in the water and tried to jump right out of the water. But then I realized how good and cool it felt to be in the water. And how that lake was like a giant water bowl that I could stand in and drink out of on a hot day. I still won't go in the water over my head because not being able to touch the ground totally freaks me out. But that's pretty good for a dog who hates the water. So that's where I'm at for now. Yay me!


(Just so you know, I can swim. I just prefer not to swim. Unless I have to. Like if some mean human throws me off the dock and makes me swim to the shore. But that's a whole other blog.)


Summer and swimming and lake water are a long, long way from right now. But writing about it is a good start to me writing again. And hopefully I can keep it up. If I do keep it up I'm going to ask my mom for a really nice treat. Not like a regular dried chicken treat, but something really cool and special like super big, all-natural, not made in china dried chicken treat. Or even a new squirrel toy or fox toy (yeah, Bruce is pretty chewed). I'll see what I can swing and keep you posted. 


The end.


Ollie

Stupid Piece of Ass-phalt

Hi. I'm Oliver. And I got a stupid piece of asphalt stuck in my foot. That's why I spelled "ass-phalt" with an "ass." That little piece of asphalt was a big meanie for getting stuck in my foot. So I called it an "ass." (NOTE: The above photo is a re-enactment of the ass-phalt that was in my foot. My mom left the real ass-fault at the vet doctor's office so I don't have it any more. But it looked a lot like the little dot in that photo.)


It all happened a few weeks ago. I would've written about it sooner, but I needed to let my foot heal before I could type again. There's still a little mark on my pad, but my foot doesn't hurt anymore. And I can jump around and run really fast, just like I used to.


Anyway, I was out running with my mom and I stepped on something sharp. I didn't know what it was so I kept running. By the time we got home, it was hurting more so I started licking my foot and all of a sudden it started bleeding all over the place. All over the floor, all over the couch and all over my mom's new bed spread from Anthropologie.


My mom saw the blood and got really sad. She didn't even yell at me for getting my blood all over her new bed spread. (And I know she really likes that bed spread. It's got pretty flowers on it and everything) Right away she sat me on the couch and looked at my foot. It didn't even look like a cut at the time, but the blood proved that there was a cut there. So my mom washed off my foot and wrapped it up in some gauze and weird purple sport tape. Then she covered up the gauze and purple sport tape with a pink baby sock and more purple sport tape.


Pink and purple bandages? All I can say is I looked like a total weenie even though the bandages made my foot feel better. (See below.)

That pink sock is pretty embarrassing, but all the blood makes me look like a tough guy so I guess it evens out. And just to prove I'm not a weenie, I chewed the heck out of my fox toy, Bruce. You can't see it in the picture, but right after that picture was taken I chewed him, shook him and tore that shit up. That's me. "Mean And Tough" Ollie.


Anyway. Back to my story.


My foot felt better initially, but the next day I could hardly walk on it. My mom kept looking at my foot and couldn't see anything wrong with it. But she knew something was wrong with it by the way I was limping around. Then my mom got really scared. It's super cute when she gets scared about me. Her eyes get super big, she hugs me a lot and I get a lot of treats. She knows that treats won't make my a foot any better, but I like them and she needs to appease her feelings of guilt and helplessness.


I could've been really pathetic-looking and got even more treats, but those treats make me gassy and I didn't want stinky dog farts to keep her from wanting to hug and spoil me. I'm smart. I know how to work the treat system. The hug-giving system too.


After a few days of me limping around without any signs of a real owie, my mom took me to the vet doctor. Even the vet doctor couldn't see anything wrong with my foot except for a tiny, little mark that seemed harmless. Next thing I know I'm off to the x-ray machine and on doggie sedatives. Ahh. Doggie sedatives. I don't like being in the back room at the vet doctor, but it's a lot better with doggie sedatives.


When the vet doctor showed my x-rays, we found the problem. There, in the middle of my foot, was a little piece of something. It turned out to be that ass-phalt, but we didn't know what it was at the time. The vet doctor gave my mom different treatment options and my mom decided the doctor should perform a little doggie operation and remove that thing in my foot. She didn't like that idea, but it seemed like the best way for me to get my foot better. (At the time, I didn't give a crap what my mom decided to do. I was having a blast spacing out on all those doggie sedatives.)


The next morning, I was back at the vet doctor. (And early too. Sheesh.) The vet doctor liked me so much that she prolonged her vacation and came in to do the doggie operation on my foot. (Now that shows dedication. Not many vet doctors have dedication like that. My vet doctor is a really nice lady.) After my operation, I was pretty doped up on doggie sedatives again. I pretty much just chilled out and slept until I was ready to go home. My foot hurt a little, but my vet doctor put a nice bandage on it so it was really soft and easy to walk on. I think I love my vet doctor.


I was pissed at my mom, though. She made me wear a satellite on my head. Then she even posted this picture on her Facebook. How embarrassing.

Today, I'm as good as new. My bandages are off. My energy is up. And I get a piece of cheese with every antibiotic I have to take. Yay me. I love cheese. I get chicken treats too because I have to take my antibiotics with food and sometimes I don't eat the dry stuff.


This whole foot owie thing, I'm totally working it to get all kinds of treats and attention. Don't tell my mom because I don't want her to stop spoiling me. I know this won't last forever–my foot will get better, I won't need any more antibiotics–but I might as well take advantage of this opportunity. To prove my point, I'll wrap things up with a picture. A picture of me in bed, totally happy and spoiled.


The end.


Ollie

My Mom's Starting To Get Pissed About My Farts

Hi. I'm Oliver. I'm a really good dog, but my mom's not too happy about my farts. I don't know what the big deal is, I like the smell of farts. But I guess that's because I'm a dog. Humans seem to get irritated or embarrassed about farts. Especially when they just torpedo out unexpectedly.


The irony here is that my mom's the reason I get so many farts. Not her specifically, but the dried chicken treats she gives me and my new dog food that's supposed to help with my joints--they both make my back side really windy. 


It's like I'm just sitting there, looking out the window and all of a sudden a fart flies out--completely not on purpose. The next thing I know, my mom's doing that half yelling, half whining thing and her arms are flailing and waving around.


You'd think she was getting attacked by a big-ass swarm of bees. But no. It's just a fart. 


When I was a little guy, I used to turn around and bark at my butt when I farted. (That, of course, made my mom laugh.) But farts don't freak me out any more. In fact, sometimes I think they're kind of fun. Like if my mom's trying to cozy up next her Jim on the couch, I do my best to sneak a one out.


"Wait for it. Wait for it." And then the smell hits them like a dump truck as I chuckle under my dog breath. I suppose that's not very nice of me, but my mom getting mad at my farts when I can't help it (most of the time) isn't very nice either. Maybe she should reconsider what she feeds me. Then again, I'd be pretty bummed if she stopped giving me my dried chicken treats. I love dried chicken treats. 


My mom tried to give me a dried sweet potato version of my dried chicken treats and that was a total mistake. First of all, sweet potatoes do not taste like chicken. Secondly, my mom hated the way they smelled and wouldn't let me near her if I was eating one. I always have to be near my mom when I'm eating. 


Eating and my mom are some of the best things ever. And I have to experience them simultaneously. For instance, I won't eat my food all day so I can eat it with her when she gets home. Not eating a single nugget out of my food bowl? That's a pretty big deal for a dog. 


Anyway, giving me a vegetable substitute did not help matters. The dried sweet potato treats made me toot just as much as the dried chicken treats. And they smelled like stinky fish. I don't know why a sweet potato would smell like a fish, but it does. At least mine do. 


The only other alternative is no chicken treats at all and that would suck. Royally. I would totally give up my joint-health dog food before my chicken strips, but that's probably not an option. I need to eat that joint food so I don't get the arthritis. Getting the arthritis would be as bad as not getting any chicken treats. 


I guess my mom will just have to get used to my farts. And I'll just have to get used the fact that my farts are really annoying and could even put a chasm between me and my dried chicken treats. In the mean time, I'll just rely on my cuteness. My cuteness can totally help make up for my gas. I just look at my mom, tilt my head and she melts. And then she yells at me for farting.


The end.


Ollie

Some HOT Bitches Were At My House

Hi. I'm Oliver. And a few nights ago, my mom had some HOT women over. I don't have a picture of my reaction, but if there was one, it would look like that picture up there. My eyes were super wide and my tongue was hanging out because those ladies were HOT. 


Those ladies were my mom's work friends and (not to be redundant) they were super HOT. I mean, I've always loved the ladies, but these women were perfect. Perfect belly scratches, perfect head rubs, perfect laps for me to sit in. The whole experience taught me a lot, too.


For instance, now I know why my mom goes into the office sometimes. I'd leave me too if there were a bunch of HOT bitches involved. Nothing is better than a bunch of HOT bitches. (To help clarify, the word "bitch" isn't a bad word for dogs, it just means "female." So don't think I'm being disrespectful by using that word. That word is only bad if you're a human.) 


Anyway, back to my point of understanding why my mom has to go into the office. It's really about the hot bitches. Of course, I don't want to encourage anyone to leave anyone, especially for 8-10 hours--that's a really long time. But at least I understand my mom's motivation for going to the office. I'd go see the HOT bitches too if my mom would let me, but I'm not very good at sitting still and minding my own business when I'm at my mom's work office. 


I get all distracted by all the new stuff and smells and HOT ladies going, "Awwww. Your dog is so cute. Can I pet him?" I have no idea why they ask to pet me because my response is always, "Rub my belly! Rub my belly! Rub my belly! Rub my belly! Rub my belly! Rub my belly! Rub my belly!" I'm up and down and up and down like I'm on a pogo stick. That's how excited I get when HOT ladies ask if they can rub my belly.


Anyway, back to the HOT bitches that were at my house a few days ago. They were really nice. And HOT. And they laughed a lot so they must be pretty funny too. I don't know what was so funny, but they sure did laugh a lot. And I didn't even let it make me feel stupid or self conscious. A lot of dogs would feel self conscious about HOT bitches laughing at stuff. But I'm super confident and don't let little things like that get to me. The only thing that gets to me is when a HOT wheaten acts all aloof and won't let me sniff her butt. Now THAT's humiliating. 


But these ladies were all really nice. And HOT. So I hope they come over again soon. I really want them to come over again. And if they have any nice HOT wheatens to bring over too, well, that would be freakin' awesome. 


The end.


Ollie

It's Really Slippery Outside

Hi. I'm Oliver. I'm really athletic and agile, but today it's really slippery outside. It's so slippery outside that even if you were a polar bear you'd still wipe out when your mom let you out to go pee and you got sidetracked by a squirrel.


That's why I put that picture of the polar bear up there. You know he felt dumb when he wiped out in front of all his neighbors. It's embarrassing when you wipe out in front of other furry, little creatures. Especially squirrels. They laugh at you even though you could bite them in two. Lucky for them, it's icy outside. And the animals that are higher on the food chain can't run very fast when it's icy outside. Not even polar bears. Not even me.


It's so icy that my mom wiped out this morning too. She went out to get the paper and fell right on her ass. KABLAMO! I felt bad for her though. She was in her bare feet and got a big cut on her big toe. It was bleeding everywhere and swelled up because she jammed her big toe too. I wanted to help her, but I stayed out of the way and didn't try to lick her toe even though I wanted to lick her toe. Licking always makes me feel better--that's why I lick my feet all the time. But my mom doesn't like it when I lick her. I still try to lick her, but this time I didn't. 


After she cleaned herself in the shower, my mom got out a big bandaid and some gauze and some ointment and fixed up her big toe. I think she should have to wear that big lampshade on her head too (like I do when I get hurt), but apparently humans don't have to wear those things. I tried to convince her, but she doesn't understand "dog" so my barking was moot.


Of course, my mom still went to work even though she should've stayed home with me to make sure I wasn't too upset over her trauma. I'm not, but she doesn't know that. For all she knows, I could be crying and crying and crying--wondering if her big toe is okay--but I'm not. Nope. No worrying or carrying on for this guy. I mean, I am concerned, but I've got mailmans and squirrels and bunnies and neighbors and dogs and squirrels to bark at. (I said squirrels twice. They get double the barks.) Besides, if the bitch decided to go to work with an injured big toe, that's her problem.


(By "bitch" I mean "woman" as in a generic female. Bitch isn't a bad word when you're a dog even though it sounds like a bad word. Another word that sounds bad, but isn't is the word "suffrage." It's about the right to vote, but it doesn't sound fun at all. Women really like that word, especially women who were around in 1920.)


Lucky for my mom, no one saw (or laughed at) her when she fell. It looked pretty funny, but her foot was so bloody and bruised that you'd have to be a real A-HOLE to laugh at that. There are a lot of guys who are big A-HOLES, but I'm not one of them. I didn't even try to lick or sniff her foot because I knew that would make her mad. And when your big toe really hurts, you don't need anything else to make mad.


Yep, my mom's lucky. It could've been a lot worse. She could've fallen and broken her ego. A bunch of hot firemen could've been cruising by when it happened. Or squirrels. Squirrels who were finally starting to caution themselves, but then everything changed because of one dog's dorky-ass fall on the icy sidewalk. 


Stupid squirrels all safe in their trees.


But I'm sure my mom's fine. And in 4 hours, 53 minutes and 44, 43, 42 seconds, she'll be home to prove it to me. Oh, and if you're a robber, don't even think about coming over and taking advantage of the empty household. I'm here. And I know how to bite you in the nuts. I had nuts once so I know how much it hurts when someone messes with your nuts. The alarm's here too. And so are the police if anyone breaks in and sets off the motion detectors.


I don't really need an alarm, I'm pretty bad-ass. But just in case I need some backup, I've got the alarm. Yay me! And yay for my mom who didn't even cry when she hurt her foot this morning. She said a few cuss words, but she didn't cry. Maybe some day i'll learn how to work the video camera or just my mom's cell phone video camera and capture her falls on film. (Even a klutzy-ass polar bear on ice skates could operate one of those cell phone video cameras.)


Oh, and happy Valentine's Day too. Valentine's Day is pretty stupid, but sometimes my mom gives me special treats so I'm encouraging the good karma. 


The end. Happy Valentine's Day! The end.


Ollie

I'm In A Movie!

Hi. I'm Oliver. If you haven't heard from me in a while, it's not you. It's me. Really. I've been super busy since my last post. I was even in a movie. That picture of me is a screen-grab of me in the movie. I'm being a good boy in the movie. My mom asked me to "sit" so I did. The movie isn't all about me, but I'm in it.


You can't go see my movie in the theater with popcorn and a diet coke. Nope. It's not playing in real movie theaters. Or at any film festivals in Canada. The only way to see my movie is if you go to my mom's work, which is a really boring place for dogs. I went there once after I got my teeth cleaned at the veterinarian place and it was really stupid. My mom's work doesn't have any toys (like Bruce, my fox toy). And all the food is people food. Seriously. Not one dried chicken treat. Grrrr.


Anyway, back to my movie. The movie is all about my mom's work department and the stuff they do at work. That's why they only play it at my mom's work. It'll be on my mom's work web site too, but for now it's only showing at my mom's work. It's my first time in a movie, but I did such a good job in the movie that I hope some big casting agent will see it and ask me to be in more movies. (That can happen when your movie's on the world wide web.)


Or maybe a big film director will see it--you know how they're always checking out indie films to find the next big undiscovered talent. That's why I'm really excited for my movie to be on the world wide web. Anyone can look at it whenever they want. Even in the middle of the night.


It's a really good movie too. Everyone loves the movie. It's over 2 minutes long and I'm up on the big screen for like 10 whole seconds. That's a lot of seconds for a 2 minute movie, especially when they have to show all 25 people in the creative department. Not everyone got as much screen time as me. And no one got as many "he's so cute!"s. There's another doggie in the movie too, but he lives in Costa Rica. And he's union talent. As if he needs to be in an actor's union. What a dick.


Of course, I've been busy doing other things besides my movie. Like barking at squirrels, barking at the shovel, barking at the vacuum cleaner, barking at the broom, barking at the dustbuster, barking at other dogs, barking at the mop and barking at lots of other stuff. The only thing I didn't get to bark at was all the people at my mom's 40th birthday party. That night I had to go to my grammie's house. LAME. 


I'll be writing more soon, though. With spring just around the corner and all sorts of squirrels to chase, I'll have plenty to report. Yay me! And yay you for still reading my blog. If I were reading a blog where the person (or dog) didn't post anything for 5 months, I'd give them the finger. So thanks for sticking with me.


The end.


Ollie