Aberrant Prose

Dakota’s blog entry #2

Rainy days are not a GSP’s best friend.

For the first time ever Mom put me in the crate for no reason at all! It wasn’t bedtime and both Mom and Dad weren’t going anywhere!

I wanted to go outside to chase chickens and lay in the sun. Every time I went out I got wet so I HAD to come back inside. Then I had to go back out again to check to see if the sun was out. Then I had to come in because I was still getting wet. Even after two dozen times of making Mom and Dad get up to let me out and in, there still wasn’t any sun.

So I proceeded to rip apart my favorite big white bear toy. After picking up stuffing I scattered all over the living room and office rugs, Mom took him away from me then hid him in the hallway closet. She told me I can’t have him right now. He has to go to the dog-toy hospital.

Next I jumped all over Paris. All she wanted to do was sleep. No matter how much I nibbled at her feet and her head and climbed on her, she insisted she had to sleep. I thought she was a GSP for goodness sake.

So Mom gave me a new stuffed toy to play with; a green alligator from Gatorland, Florida (don’t tell her Mom).

When I got bored with that I started climbing into Mom and Dad’s laps, nibbling magazines in the office, and scooting under the dog beds. Dad said something like, “It is going to be a long winter.”

About then I heard a big sigh from Mom. She got up from her computer and tossed me in the crate saying something like, “And I need to work on my projects.”

Dakota’s first blog

Can you believe I will be seven months old tomorrow? I am only a couple of pounds away from weighing as much as Paris. Although I am not quite as tall as Paris and my legs are not as long as hers I am very good at keeping up with her at the park, something I have heard Mom and Dad say very few dogs can do. You should see Paris and I doing rabbit-like tandem leaps through the grass. Very entertaining I hear.

I have been told I am going through an adolescent phase. I guess it is because I don’t behave as well or come when called like I used to. I now eat the flowers on the patio, jump on Mom and Dad’s bed, and dig up irises. All of this, I have discovered, is much more fun than being good.

I am also a bad influence on Paris. She now sleeps on the sofa and in the recliners just like I do.







One of my favorite things is to stalk the chickens. In fact every time I go out to the field I head straight to the chicken coop, crouching close to the ground as I go hunting. The chickens don’t seem to care though. Most of the time they just stand on the other side of the wire fence, inches away, and laugh at me.

When I head back to the house I really like to race inside, jump on the arm of Mom’s recliner then, from the arm, spring high in the air to leap into the beanbag, especially if Paris is sleeping there. I really enjoy pouncing on her.

I also like to bark. Any unusual sound I hear I am on my feet and ready to go. I am not sure where I inherited this guard dog inclination. To be honest, if anyone calls me on it, I head to the nearest hiding place, with my tail between my legs. At least I don’t bark at squirrels forever in a day (like Paris).

I love the field because it is full of wonderful things to bring back to chew and scatter all over the house; like pinecones, sticks, fruits, and nuts, my favorite being pinecones because of all the little pieces I can chew off. Mom is constantly picking up and vacuuming the messes I make. I especially like the reaction I get when I bring gooey snails inside and smear them all over the floor.

I am in a Good Manners One class right now and for the most part, if I am not bouncing off the walls, I do pretty well. I am the only dog in the class who, when called, will instantly run to and sit nicely in front of my owner.

I have a boyfriend too. His name is Seven. For some reason Paris gets all bent out of shape about this.

I have heard a lot about Madison so I try to emulate her as much as I can. I dig up and arrange my bedding for several minutes before I lay down. I try to eat lots too. Of course I am a GSP so I do have trouble pulling that one off most of the time. For sure I eat a lot more than that picky eater, Paris. A favorite Madison activity for me is to chase Paris around and around the sofas in the living room trying to take the cookie-filled Kong away from her.

Because I come from a line of Northern California GSP hunting dogs I am really good with the “drop it” command. That’s what I am supposed to do with prey. It’s in my blood. When we were at the park this week I found some rabbit bones and when Dad told me “drop it,” I instantly dropped them. Then Paris ran off with my find! Makes me think I should start ignoring the “drop it” command. After all I AM going through a rebellious phase. :-) I don’t see why Paris thinks she doesn’t have to drop things when told. She must think she is too classy to heed her hunter instincts (I understand she was bred as a show dog more so than as a hunting dog).
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In the hunter vein, I love to fetch. I will return a ball or toy over and over until whomever I am bringing it to gets bored.

And ohmigosh, having Paris to play with is the cat’s meow. She has shown me where the cat hides, how to tug, rip up toys, and dig holes in the lawn and field. Even though oftentimes she will give up the play long before I do, she will go and go and go. She really is my hero.

All and all everything is working out just fine around here.

Dogs Blog Too

Today Paris wanted to know what I do on the computer all the time. When I told her I iChat, email, surf, write blogs, keep a journal and do design work she wanted to know more about the blogs. When I told her she decided she wants to write blogs too. Here is her first one:

“Life is good. Especially I have managed to wiggle myself onto the sofa in the evenings now. It all started because Mom likes to pick me up and hold me. I know. I am little so it makes it easy for her to do this. No complaints here. About a month ago I wanted her to pick me up and cuddle me. She wouldn’t. She was on her laptop. So I started to lay across her chair with my legs dangling off the end. That was fine for a while. I still wanted to be in her lap and after a few nights of partial sofa occupation only, I slowly eased my back feet up to get all fours into her lap. Surprisingly she didn’t stop me. I am sure it’s because I am just too cute. And cuddly.

Even though she finally started letting me into her lap a lot of times she would just tell me to “move away” and if I didn’t she’d get out that bottle of water she keeps on the table next to the sofa and threaten to squirt me. I hate that bottle!

Well of course it didn’t take me long to try Dad. I discovered his recliner is really the place to be. Now that Mom has given in he has too. He never threatens me with that squirt bottle either. Now I spend most of my evenings on his recliner while he watches TV or does his number puzzles from the newspaper.

Yes, this dog’s life is good.”