Jethro had a sleepover at his Auntie Lisa’s house last night so Wolf and I could have an evening out. Spoiled rotten, I tell you.
She even bought him new toys. The squeaky-honky hedgehog is a favorite, but there’s nothing quite as fun as this one:
And snuggled in her lap, no less! I’ll never hear the end of it.
We’re very concerned about the effects of media on the current generation of youngsters. Jethro will stop whatever he’s doing just to follow the bouncing “DVD” logo.
Posted in JETHRO
Surely this is what people wonder when we show up at the Costco checkstand with industrial-strength sized packages of baby wipes, shop towels and glucosamine (which is actually for Truman).
Nope. Just raising some puppies.
Posted in Truman's Humans
I think out of all the little-puppy toys I have in the Spoiled Dogs Toy Chest of Opulence, the Nylabone “puppy keys” are my favorite. Unfortunately, they are also Truman’s favorite, so if I don’t want them chewed into oblivion, I have to make sure they’re only out when El Big Dog is safely snoozing in another room.
Of course, the “Holee Roller” balls are also great toys. Really convenient for making compound toys to test your puppy’s intelligence and persistence.
And I just like the way they make a puppy’s nose wrinkle.
Posted in JETHRO
This gigantic dog bed was possibly my best dog-related purchase ever. Because Jethro is tiny and will be unable to venture out into the real world until he’s about 20 weeks old and has had his full course of Parvo vaccines (lots of scary Parvo out there right now, and we’re being cautious), I anticipate many, many, MANY photos of the boys in my living room, on the gigantic dog bed.
That little bench is usually where I leave Truman’s bowl, but GDA dogs have to be accustomed to eating from a bowl on the ground.
Moments after this photo was taken, the boy tried to climb onto the bench and into the bathtub. He doesn’t look particularly mischievous, does he? Looks kinda sadsack, to be honest. Don’t let him fool you.
Posted in JETHRO
October 1, 2010 — Jethro: Otherwise Known As…
Yes, yes, I know. They’re not supposed to have nicknames. They’re supposed to learn their REAL name.
Jethro does know his real name — his recall, in fact, is so much better than Truman’s ever was or will be…. Jethro is not just smart, he’s willing, one might even say enthusiastic. He’s also known as the following, around the house:
Most of these names are used to refer to him, not to speak directly to him by way of command or identification. But sometimes I will speak casually to him as if he understands English. For example, as I am digging tiny tree parts out of his mouth and saying, “Jethro, GIVE,” I often follow up — after “Good give, Jethro!” and other hearty praise, of course — with, “Nice going, Eucalyptus Breath. Now back in the house.”
Still, I promise you, when you call “Jethro-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!” …he comes a-runnin’.
September 30, 2010 — Fall? Maybe?
Still too darn hot. But Truman is wearing his festive fall collar nonetheless, because handsome knows no season.
Posted in Traditions, TRUMAN
September 28, 2010 — Heat Wave
I’m sorry — was I just complaining about cold garden hose water on my feet at three in the morning? Let that be a lesson to me.
Los Angeles set a crazy all-time heat record yesterday. It was 113 degrees downtown. We live in the south bay, where it’s never (haha! HA!) that hot, we usually have a lovely marine layer to keep things under control, and we enjoy a daily afternoon breeze. Our house, for this reason, does not need air conditioning. Uhhhh…usually. Today it was, what, over a hundred? In my living room?
We were miserable. And Jethro was miserable. Poor little dude in his little fur coat, so brand new and confused, and all of a sudden it’s probably hotter in his new home than it ever was in Sylmar (which is saying something!). The humans spent most of the day trying to keep him — and ourselves — cool and hydrated. He spent most of the day belly-up in the x-pen. I gave him ice cubes, I hosed down his belly when we went outside to the balcony to relieve, I put him in the bathtub and splashed some water on him as he stood there looking pathetic and exhausted. He even dug in his water bowl to get the sheet in the x-pen wet so he’d be comfy lying down. We had all the windows open, in the vain hope the breeze — and we are talking about a daily occurrence, this breeze — would come to our aid. Nope. Pure misery.
He woke up seven times last night. SEVEN TIMES. Every 30 minutes, for a while. I’d take him out to piddle, hose him down and put him back to bed. The neighbors do not love us, I’m sure.
Posted in JETHRO
I'm Jenny. You may recognize me as the one with the opposable thumbs.
LabradorRodeo 