Guess who had a birthday today??

You get one guess, so make it a good one!

I’ll give you a little hint:

That’s right!  My boy Tweed celebrated the big One Four today.

He wanted a pawty, and because he is 14 and gets whatever he wants, that’s what he got!

A whole bunch of his friends came to help celebrate.

But only Tweed got to eat the cake.

Just kidding.  He was very generous and shared his cake not only with his doggie friends, but also with the shelter dogs.

And what a freakin’ AMAZING cake it was!  I mean how many dogs can boast a truly personalized cake?  I almost called this entry “Tweed on his 14th birthday” because he really IS on his 14th birthday (cake)!

Tweed’s friend Mia made this cake because my cake decorating skills are on par with my rocket building and alligator wrestling skills (ie, skillz – i don’t has them).  Mia has all kinds of talents (except baseball) and because she loves Tweed, she wanted to make him a special gift.  She could also make YOUR dog a special gift on his birthday or special day – if you want to know more, contact us so we can tell you more!

It was crazy amazing.  It looked just like him!

Tweed and I are amazingly blessed … we have had 14 wonderful years together and doG willing, many more left.  I work with a fabulous group of people and a boss who let us have a party for Tweed at work.  We have fun and wonderful friends who helped us celebrate.

And we have a beautiful family to share our lives with.

Happy Birthday Tweed, handsome boy!  You’re the icing on my cake, Tweedles!

Sheer Heart Attack

Why?  WHY does Wootie hate me so?  Why is he trying to make me drop dead in terror?

This, my friends, is Wootie chasing a coyote this afternoon at the dykes in Maple Ridge.

You will all please keep in mind that this was shot with a telephoto lens and is heavily cropped.  What I really saw was more like this – but STILL shot through a telephoto lens, so imagine it even freakin’ further away.

Lord have mercy on my now sold-to-the-devil soul.

Why was Food Lady taking photos of it instead of trying to catch him, you ask?  Well – YOU try to catch a Wootie on the move, who is a whole football field away.  All the screaming in the world did not stop him from sprinting after it as soon as he saw it, and by this point, I don’t think he could even hear me anyway.  The only thing I could do was stand there and pray to doG that the coyote didn’t glance back and realize Wootie was half his size, and decide to make him a snackable.

We tried to send the biggest dog in the bunch out to save Woo, but Tucker’s no fool.

Nuh-uh, I ain’t runnin’ after no stinkin’ ky-ote!

And the one dog who can generally be counted on to run after strange canines with all his teeth showing?  Was he any help? Yeahno.


What’s your problem?  I came back, didn’t I?

There’s only ONE way to punish a dog this rotten.

hahahahahahaha! And, you know, since we already had the bunny ears out ….


Why am I being punished?  Why?  I didn’t chase any coyotes!

Why’d you spring me from the shelter just to send me straight to Hell?

Predictably, TWooie was a buttface on our walk, so he spent much of it on leash.  He made several credible attempts to bite both Tucker and Nyxie, but wisely steered clear of the Blind Landshark.

I can’t see him, but I can still fit him in my mouth.

I may be a jerk, but I’m not STUPID.  You’re stupid.

However, back at Jenn’s house, TWooie was remarkably content to let Nyxie and Dexter wrestle (which they did, for about 4 straight hours) without being inclined to interfere or boss anyone around.  As a reward, he was allowed to be in the Bunny Ears Family photo.

Yeah. Super. Thanks.

(As an aside, if you have a friend who doesn’t bat an eyelash when Dexter and Wootie get up on their kitchen table, consider yourself blessed.)

Maybe next time you’ll go save a little brutha in need, Tucker!!

I’m so ashamed.

Happy Easter :)

It’s My Party

and I’ll look goofy if I want to!

Today a miraculous thing happened.

Tweed turned NINE YEARS OLD. 9!!! ZOMG!

And I he did it without me throttling his evil little red neck too. At least, not fatally.

Australian Shepherd people tell me that it takes 3 years for an Aussie to grow a brain, and 3 more for them to figure out how to use it. “And add a couple more years if they’re boy Aussies!” they squeak cheerfully. Oh brother. I thought the border collie half of his brain would have kicked in sooner, but I was wrong.

Just a little less than 9 years ago, a rescuer in Washington State sent me this photo:

Gadzooks! I was smitten. I had The Puppy Fever (and look what happened! Now you know why I don’t indulge in the puppy lust anymore).

But he sure was cute. He wuved his big brother Briggs.
And I had the handsomest pair o’ red collies this side of the Rockies.

Of course, Tweed is evil. For many years he has defied me, tormented me, sassed me, embarrassed me and generally made me pull out my hair on too many occasions to count. My friend Elisha commented on a photo of him recently, where he was cocking his head in typical Tweed style and said “he’s waiting for you to tell him what to do, so he can do the opposite!”

My friends know him so well.

But I wouldn’t trade him for the world. He is hilarious, ridiculous, willful, defiant, keen, scary-smart and a character like no other.

So to celebrate, I threw him a party. Complete with a cake made of ostriches. AND I PUT THE GODDAMN MR. PICKLES NEVERENDING PEEPS TO GOOD USE TOO!!!

This cake was made by the FeelGood Treat Company and cost me twenty motherflippin’ dollars at Tisol. Usually I get a personalized cake from ThreeDogBakery. I think next time I’ll go back to them, because their cakes are better. For starters – no chisel required to slice the thing, and I never have a pile of ostrich confetti in a ziploc bag after it thaws.

But the dogs did not complain.


Even though we made them wear a goofy hat before we gave them the cake.

This is not happening. This is not happening. HAPPYPLACEHAPPYPLACE!

Even Sofa* got into the spirit of the party, with a little help from his dad.
*Sofa? YES! Because this big gangly puppy is everywhere, usually crashing into the back of my knees as he gambols around the office, and I end up sitting on him about 7 times an afternoon. And accidentally riding him around the office. So we have renamed him Sofa – a big, squishy, drooling fast moving Sofa.

But what kind of dog owner would I be if I didn’t torment my dogs with the cake first, for your enjoyment?

But pshaw. I do this every year. Time to shake it up a little.

Cue two more dogs to torment.
Tweed got a little anxious about the competition for the cake. Piper refused to believe I had the balls to do this. Sofa didn’t even understand why he was supposed to be there.

Yeah, it was good times.


It’s not a real party until you bust out the whipped cream in a can!

hee hee!

I cannot believe my good fortune!

Turbo was having none of the hissy can of edible oil goodness, but he politely slurped some off Auntie Food Lady’s sticky fingers.

As for Sofa … oh the life of a puppy. This was Sofa’s first experience with whipped cream.

You want me to what?

Oh I get it! I get it!!

Epitome of a good party:

Yay! I like to rock the party!

Happy 9th birthday to my Special Little Guy!!

Here’s to 9 more great years! If I last that long.

For his birthday this year I am taking Tweed to the AAC Regionals in Campbell River on the May long weekend. Wish us luck!!