Howl-o-what?

The dogs don't really 'get' Halloween.

"Whadda ya mean 'lame excuse for a costume' exactly?"

But hey, at least he wore them. That's more than I can say for SOME Pipers we know.

Personally, I think Mr. Woo, AKA your 9th grade French teacher, wore them quite well.

The only person in the house who was really in the spirit of Halloween was Donutz.

ZOMBIE KITTEH!!

You can't really blame the dogs for not being down with Halloween though. The downside to living next to a graveyard is that the neighborhood celebrates Halloween hardcore, and the firecrackers have been obnoxious all week, and nonstop since 5pm this evening. Tweed and Woo lasted 20 minutes at the dog park and then were huddled at my feet shaking like leaves. refusing to play fetch any longer.

I get no fun Halloween Parties. I don't get to go outside and play with fireworks with the neighbors. I am stuck in the house babysitting two phobic dogs (and a Piper, who thinks Boys Are Dumb).

So we are enjoying a quiet evening in finding indoor stuff to do. I think I've located Tweed's highschool year book photo:
HAHAHA!


"Oh puke."


And Piper's head shot from her modeling days?


"Yawn. Boring."


And Mr. Woo's ... oh screw it. Here's Mr. Woo in glasses again, cuz it's funny.


"Oh GAWD. That's atrocious!"

Okay, so clearly Donut wants to be in today's entry.

Donut?

"What?"

"Oh, you want to take my photo? No. Go away. I dismiss you."

*sigh*


"HAHAHA! You got pwned!!"
(picture not sideways - that's Woo laying on the couch)


"Pwned? What's pwned? Can I fetch it?"


"Is that a firecracker I hear?"

My "big brave" boys hiding out on the sofa

I should go join them.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!

BOO!

My Dogs Are Creepy

I'm not posing them for group pictures anymore. They freak me out. They're all Children Of The Corn and shizzat.

I'm afeared!!

When I saw Piper coming at me through the viewfinder, I shrieked like a little girl and ran away. I'm sure all the onlookers at Bridgeman Park thought I was mentally challenged. I don't care! It was, like, the last thing someone in a horror film would see before they were chopped (or chewed) to pieces by a smiling psychopath!

"Vut seemz to be ze problem? You appear ... dis-turbed."

Today we did a marathon hike at Bridgeman, with our friends Sandy, her adorable TDBCR adoptee Heidi, who is an itty bitty basenji X border collie (no kidding)
Heidi is SO cute. But she has a great big bossy boots for a teeny little dog. Remember this, it'll be revisited later in the blog.

And they brought their foster guest, Cassie, who is available for adoption on our website.

Cassie doesn't look much like what people think of when someone says "border collie" but she is all BC in personality - she is super keen, and super fun, and super smart and just an all around super puppy of about 9 months. She has a great temperament. You should probably adopt her.

Speaking of you ... it never fails to amuse me when when "you" the stranger identify me as The Food Lady when I'm out in public. I mean, I know it's my own fault for obsessively photodocumenting every walk and plastering it all over the internetz, but it still catches me off guard because in my head, I am still anonymous.

*Waves at today's "You're The Food Lady!" guy* Hai! Now you're famous and I'm stalking you.

And hey, while I'm talking to strangers I came across in today's travels ... to the guy honking at me in his Mercedes on 16th Avenue today: Hai! The reason I didn't go around the car in front of me that was making a left is because I could not fit my giant van between it, and the sidewalk. I really appreciate the "snakey" motions your plastic surgery model cum trophy wife was making with her hands to indicate how I could execute the go-around-the-car-in-front-of-me manouever - thanks for that! But while I could have rammed the little honda in front of me, or driven onto the sidewalk to get around her, I did think either of those options was a bit overly dramatic, just to allow you the freedom to resume travelling at 35km per hour in a 50km zone. I want you to know, though, that your incessant honking was music to my ears, and very nearly inspired me to exit my car and paint your lapels with the little ketchup packs in my glove comparment in an artistic fit if my own. You have no idea how close you were to feeling my tomatoey wrath!

"She's ranting again. Everyone stay very still, and don't upset her. Eventually she will run out of steam. Feel free to look exasperated while waiting it out though. Gawd knows I will."

We arrived at the park a little early (which is how the scary Posed Creepy Dogs idea came to life) and I was randomly taking photos of passing dogs by bribing them with cookies.

Like this Cheseapeake Bay Retriever

Who felt I did not hand over the cookies fast enough, and was not shy about telling me as much.

And this Lab, who looks very sweet in his photo, but tried to eat my camera, and the pocket that held the blessed cookies. I'm really starting to rethink the Cookie Strategy.

This sweetie, who is a BC X Rottweiler, sat politely, posed cutely and waited patiently for her promised cookie. Good dog!

Tweed and Heidi were pretty impatient with all the stopping and photo taking.

Tweed wanted to be on his way.

Cassie too!

I bet they didn't know that they'd meet a Dandie Dinmont Terrier whilst on the road though. I mean, I sure didn't. I wasn't even totally sure they actually existed in real life, just on the internetz. But then we saw this one, who is apparently the Champion Of Everything Plus Something Else Fancy He Just Won Last Week. I'm not a dog show person so I didn't understand any of it, but he sure had really big eyes for a really small dog.
He was pretty cute.

As we ambled down the road, I was musing over what kind of Huff I'd like to storm off in, and decided that if at all possible, I think I'd like to storm off in a beat up old early 1970's farmer style pickup truck Huff. But in order to do that, I think I would need a dog like ...

this.

Everybody sing it with me now ...

MAYBE TOMORROW, I'LL WANNA SETTLE DOWN.
UNTIL TOMORROW, I'LL JUST KEEP MOVIN' ON.
UNTIL TOMORROW, THE WHOLE WORLD IS MY HOME....

I think she was a WolfDog, and she was super cool looking. And huge. 90 lbs of huge, to be exact.

90lbs of huge, however, is no match for 20lbs of Very Bossy Boots.


I told you!

"And don't even THINK about bothering that poor mastiff either!"


After the last entry, someone asked me why Mr. Woo's soccer ball, which is clearly labeled "Adidas" is called Fifa (tm). So if I may take you back in time, to the days of The Very First Fifa. Fifa The First was a soccer ball we found abandoned in an alley, and Woo tenderly adopted it. That soccer ball happened to say "FIFA" on it and so has every subsequent replacement ball been called Fifa (tm). And there have been a few, starting with the very sad loss of Fifa The First and the garish subpar replacement ball.

"And He who walks behind the rows did say; I will send outlanders amongst you... a man and a woman, and these outlanders will be unbelievers and profaners of the holy and the man will sorely test you. for he has great power, even greater than that of the blue man!"

AHHHHHH! RUN AWAY RUN AWAY!

ParkParkParkParkPark

My nemesis - finding a Suitable Park nearby to play in!

We have found a small neighborhood park about two blocks away that is perfect for our early morning (pre-Animal Control Patrol) play, but as it's not a dog park, I wouldn't take my dogs there to run in the afternoons or anything. It's perfect for pre-work romps though. Every morning we are joined by Connor the Cattle Dog, who shrieks like a banshee and usually gets the ball first.

After work, there's just nowhere to go. Hole Digging Park has now been renamed POOPY PARK. I will spare you the gory details but let's just say that Canada Geese + puddles + thirsty dogs = The Food Lady spending a lot of time scrubbing liquid poo off her brand new area rugs. So Poopy Park is OUT!

Yesterday we tried Monkey Tree Park again. There were lots of dogs there, which was a good sign. However, within 45 seconds of arriving Mr. Woo got pounced on by what was, without a doubt, the absolute *worst* behaved dog I have ever seen, owned by the most ineffectual woman I have ever had the displeasure of not meeting (for fear I would verbally slug her). Her dog invited Woo to play and then pinned all 25lbs of him down with her 60+ lb body and ripped out chunks of his hair. I had to haul the dog off him bodily as his screams were blissfully ignored. He was soaking wet everywhere when I freed him ... and he was MAD!

The dog then stole Tweed's ball and proceeded to play a long and complicated game of keep-away with it, which I (not the owner, mind) finally thwarted by pretending to have an invisible cookie.

I lay all my dogs down on the grass and pointedly stood very still, and after a good 4 minutes of calling the dog's name over and over and over and over and over and over again, the woman finally began walking away and after eating the contents ... wait for it ... of our poopy bag (GAG) the dog finally, reluctantly, followed her owner away. Good grief! Older, timid ladies of the world ... please, adopt small elderly dogs. Not large, gross, hard headed labshepherdpitmutt puppies!

Which left us with the second worst behaved dog in the world, the Malinois. For at least 10 minutes, and I'm not exaggerating, the Malinois trotted in a big neurotic circle with the clear intention of beating any of my dogs to the ball if I were stupid enough to throw it. I tried the lay-my-dogs-down hint again, and the owner just stood there, speaking softly to the Mal in a language I don't understand. At first I thought he was incredibly obtuse, but after a while I realized he was just another owner whose dog has no recall command, and it wasn't that he was ignoring his dog - rather, his dog was ignoring him. He could not call him, nor could he catch him.

People please - if your dog does not have some semblance of a recall, keep him on a leash until he does!

I finally stomped off in a huff and found a corner of the park where there were no ball stealing Malinois or poop eating mutts, but by then our outing had kinda been soured ... I drove all the way to Queen Elizabeth Park for this?

So today, we went back to Doggie Death Park.


The super tall grasses are mostly gone. I don't think they've been mowed, they have just died off as Autumn has progressed. So it's not quite the poopy landmine it was the last time we were there, but still tall enough to get some advert-esque dogs-bounding-through-tall-grass shots.



So it was good for everyone. Piper and Mr. Woo got to play Fifa (tm):

and Tweed got to play with a regular ball (which we didn't lose).

There weren't too many other dogs there, although we did run into this extremely happy coffee table ... errr, Lab.

He wanted to be friends with Wootie, but after Monkey Tree Park, Woo was skeptical:

He just wanted to play some ball

While Tweed kept watch

----------------------------------
The Fifa (tm) Faces of Woo:

Are you going to kick that?

Don't look at Piper, look at me. I'm cuter, and oranger.

What do you mean by "the game is over, stop staring at me, we're going home Mr. Woo," exactly?
(comes right before BARKSCREAMBARKSCREAMBARKSCREAM)

If he wasn't so cute, he might be considered a real bossy boots pain in the rear!

But you have to admit, he's really cute.

Introducing

Big Air Photography

The official launch of my photography website.

Please have a look around, and tell your friends.

So this evening I am forced to admit that I am a bad, bad Food Lady. I have clearly failed to be a moral compass for young Tweed. For today, at the beach, I discovered Tweed posing for Playgirl. Even with that stringy half assed excuse for a tail!

The horror.

He is too sexy for the sand, too sexy for the sand ...

Either that or he was possessed, perhaps by demons. Come to think of it, that would explain quite a few questions I have about Tweed.

Onlookers were shocked.

Piper was so embarrassed she went into hiding.

But the real trouble began when Mr. Woo, who so wants to be like his big brother, started emulating Tweed.


It's just downright humiliating. I blame YOU, blog readers, for all your talk about how
"Tweed is sexy" and "Tweed is awesome" and all that. You've corrupted him. I hope you're happy.

"Oh, hai. I have no chin."

I don't know why it is, exactly, that some days I take my camera with me and don't get anything I want to show anyone. And other days, the photogods smile down upon me, and give me things like:

This very expressive random black dog, who is the new Official LongDog, as well as holding the title of Spanish Banks Ball Receptacle.

...with crazy feetsies.

Or this very photogenic Aussie we call "Fat Tongue"
You'd think that tongue thing would be painful.

Maybe that's why he was barking - "OWWWW, that futhermucking hurt!!!"

Even my own dogs were full of photo ops today.

GET OUT OF THE SHOT, WOO!

Seriously, this photo would be so much better if Woo were not in it! I mean, I think Tweed is doing The Funky Chicken dance, or possibly The Electric Slide.
But then again, Woo was in, like, EVERY shot today. He was like Photo Op Ninja Dog. Take aim, begin to depress trigger and POOF, Woo comes flying into the frame.

Sometimes literally.

Piper offered up a little comic relief with
Wootie Toy Fail

but not even Piper was immune to the Woo FLIES Into The Photo syndrome.


Is it any wonder she gets all Mad Teeth (tm) at him sometimes?

He didn't even need anyone else to be in the frame to sproing into action.

I did get a couple of nice, Woo-free photos:

But my new favourite is this shaking photo of Tweed.

Because he looks like a 1960's hairdo with legs and a face. Tell me he doesn't!