TESSA WESSA WOO

Drum roll please!!! Ears up!! Snouts in the air!! Let me introduce my sister . . . no wait . . . my niece . . . no wait . . . my cousin? Oh, who cares, she's my Tiny Tessa, and she's staying at my house tonight. I told you about her before, cuz I've stayed at her house, where she lets Suzanne & Wes live. They've gone to Galveston tonight, so I'm gonna take care of her.

We just went on a walk, and Tessa's legs run about a thousand tiny little steps to just one of mine. I don't know how she does it; her legs are a blur. And . . . and . . . yuk, yuk, she turns around backward, grabs the leash in her mouth, and bounces and bounces and bounces backward pulling on the leash. She looks like one of my woobies or a wind-up toy! Dad just howls laughing at her, which only seems to make her do it more - the big show off. She's breaking her rules; she's not 'pose to do that, but Dad's a big ole pushover, so he lets her do it. Sorry, Wes & Suzanne!!

Oh, just before Tessa arrived, I got to go to the dog park. Oh dog, was that so much fun!! There were a ton of dogs there, so many smells my nose got tired, mud holes, big toys to run through and walk on, water fountains just my size, and best of all . . . a big pond. Dogs were flyin' off of the banks into the water to retrieve tennis balls!!
Oh - my - gosh; I nearly passed out with excitement. I swam and I swam right over the . . . (no no that's a stupid song). I swam and retrieved and leaped and retrieved and swam and leaped and retrieved. Dog heaven I gotta tell ya.

A special shout out to my new buds, Harley, the English bulldog who swims like a large rock, and to the ever-so-weird golden retriever-spaniel mix dog who actually looked like a golden-Corgi mix. Never did get her name or number, but she looked like a midget sheep. I'm not gonna lie, some breeds just should not mix.

DOG TRANSLATOR . . . SERIOUSLY!

I KID YOU NOT! HERE IS THE LINK TO AN HONEST-TO-GOODNESS DOG TRANSLATOR, OR, SHOULD I SAY . . . THE WAY TO "SPEAK DOG."

Now, I, being of the more intellectual, educated, verbose canine variety, don't really need a translator, but clearly, some of my lesser, furred brethren do. Check it out:

http://www.petcentric.com/SpeakDog/default.aspx?DCMP=EMC-PETC-PETC-May09_2

Just remember to use simple wording. Most dogs don't speak using such complex/compound, grammatically correct sentence structure as I do.

PURPLE EPHALENT

GEEZ; everybody's got an opinion! Seems some of my boys feel that I've snubbed my purple ephalent by not mentioning him as one of my favs. Good grief, he's just a woobie! He doesn't read blogs!!

But OK, FINE! I hereby state that I love my faithful, purple ephelant . . . almost as much as I love my big, fuzzy bone . . . almost. He's very soft; he's big, and he doesn't have to go to washing machine camp as much because he's dark purple and doesn't look as dirty. So, he can get really, really ripe (hmmmm) before mom sends him away to be cleaned.

I feel bad putting his picture here because he's missing an eye (I have NO idea how that happened). However, since my boys are being so fussy about full disclosure, I posted a picture of him.

SATISFIED?

WOOBIES!!

I have a bunch of stuffed toys. In fact, I LOVE my stuffed toys!! I sleep with my big white bone - it's my fav, and I bring my toys to anyone who comes to my house, cuz I know they wanta see 'em. My toys are soft and feel good in my soft mouth (you DO know that we retrievers all have soft mouths, right?). Now . . . guess what I just learned??? All my soft toys are called:

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . "WOOBIES" . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Mom was talking to Debra - who helped me get born, took care of me when I was just a little squirt, and then gave me to mom and dad. So Debra kept talking to mom about "woobies." She wanted to know if I'm a wobbie-lover or a woobie-killer! DUH!! Finally, mom got her to explain that woobies are just my toys. WHO KNEW?

Well, mom went nuts, the way she does sometimes over certain words. I know, that's just weird, but then . . . well . . . she is mom. Anyway, mom thinks that "woobie" may just be the coolest word ever, and she's gone all obsessive over it. So, I decided to do a little woobie research myself, and here's what I found on "My Woobie World":

Just exactly what IS a Woobie, anyway?

woobie - (wu-bee or woo-bee); n.,

1. Beloved object, often carried around in the mouth for extended periods of time;

2. Foul-smelling object often saturated to twice its normal weight with pet saliva;

3. Pagan object of worship, often embraced by canines of the Golden Retriever breed;

4. Constant companion, sometimes revered and sometimes abused;

5. All-purpose mouth-ornament, may function as pacifier one moment, and dental floss the next.

Many of my favorite things can qualify as woobies - stuffed animals, tennis balls, or even dad's old socks. So you see, even if you're not lucky enough to be a Golden Retriever, you can still be a Woobie-Lover.

In my next post, I'll tell you all about "The Legend of the Evil Woobie"

Stay tuned!

ABBEY, ANOTHER NEW FRIEND!

Hey everybody, pretty soon I'm gonna have to join Snoutbook, cuz I'm getting so many new friends! Check out the picture above to meet Abbey, my next door neighbor. Abbey's an old gal (10 years old), but she's pretty darn spunky. She came over for a weekend sleepover, and boy did we have fun. We wrassled (Texan talk) and played and walked and snoozed.

She has grey eyebrows which look kinda funny on her brown face, especially when she gives her best beggar look. She pretty well suckered mom and dad when she arched those greybrows, tilted her head and put her paw up on their legs. She must've practiced that look for a long time. She tried to teach it to me, but it looked pretty gay when I did it. Plus, I don't have greybrows . . . yet!

Abbey also snores . . . really loud, which is not too attractive, I gotta tell you. Sooo, I just slept in Dad's closet while she was here.

Oh, and Abbey loves to retrieve tennis balls. Kinda made me miss my Anna, who was the tennis ball retrieving queen. Sigh!

Abbey's back home now - just across the fence, but I can't see her or hear her. I wish I could, cuz I think we could be good pals. Maybe she'll come back to visit soon.