Dog days of Spring

I don't want to leave you with the impression that I'm always busy. That's just usually when photos are taken. Most of the time, you'll find me relaxing...

I'm a pillow.

I might have been digging in the coral to get under the fence to reach the banana trees.

OK. I was.

"Dad, you know I'm your favorite."

I found a new place to nap.
My people keep disturbing me here to take a photo.

Would you please leave me alone?

NOW what do you want?
(Apparently, to take yet another photo.)

It's all about the tummy rub.

My human sister, Madeline, enjoying her dog pillows.
And we enjoy being pillows, because we get to be on the couch.

Now off to sit on my bed while my people have dinner. I'm getting better at it.

No fear!

Kolchak XVI

Return to "normal"

Back to normal! I'm all healed up and back to my old self again. Well, more like my puppy self again since I'm not really old. Didn't take long.


My family was given some baby gates so now I don't struggle to stay out of the kitchen. I'm gated out. My world has become smaller. No more counter cruising for me. I had my last bit of scrambled eggs last week. Bummer. 


Outside though, it's far more interesting. We have trees now! I particularly enjoyed the banana trees until mean ol' Mom put a chicken wire fence around them. Apparently, one should not strip the outer layer off the banana tree, scratch the trunk, or tear down leaves. Picky ol' broad. There went half of my fun. I'm trying to dig my way in again by going under the fence. Sadly, my dad will fix that and banana trees will no longer be my toys. I'll still have the palms I nibble and a bunch of leftover sticks from removing the rubbish tree. Someday, when my puppy phase passes, my family will relive these memories in joy. For now, they keep putting up fences - inside and out.

Six days after my surgeries, I'm out in the yard helping to plant ti trees.

There's nothing so lovely as the feel of freshly turned dirt.

Waiting in my bed for dinner to be over so I can help clean the floor.
That's my contribution to housework.

My sister, Isabella, and I guard the house from ferocious letter carriers,
neighborhood boys, and the occasional stray cat or dog.
Imagine how effective we'd be if we were outside of the house!

The evidence that I was the one investigating
(some call it making holes)
in the monkey pod tree pots.

Investigating makes a tired Kolchak.

What? I caused no harm.

What? I'm not on the couch.

See? Front feet on the floor.
I don't know who owns those other two feet that appear to be more on than off the couch.

Either way, Grandpa is happy to see me.

Just chillin'.
(Those ottomans help me in my stealth mode to get on the couch.)

Movie night.

I've got the best seat in the house
because it includes tummy rubs.

I FINALLY got to go to work again!!  My dad returned home last night. He was waiting behind that camouflage curtain. CSM Higgs came out to get me for Dad since he missed me so much. I got to see Dad and a troop of Girl Scouts. My cute face didn't score any pizza from soldiers though. Dad said no. Party popper. 

CSM Higgs bringing me back to Mom.
See the band back there? It was my first time hearing one. Surprisingly, I liked it. 

While we waited for the soldiers to arrive, I met lots of nice people. My favorite was a girl that fed me graham crackers. She was my height and so cute. Kisses on my nose and treats are the way to my heart.

My family together again. Normalcy finally.
(If they were ever normal in the first place!)

We're still waiting for the return of the rest of my Wolfhound family. I can't wait to meet them! I can't wait to go to work more often. Wolfhound life is for me!!


No Fear!
Kolchak XVI
King of the Wolfhounds

Rain then pain

Aloha!
As you know, it's been a while since I blogged. Here's what I've been up to...

Checking out the view of the neighbors' dogs from our deck.
Every neighbor around us has more than one dog.

My family likes when I look broken.
I like laying on the rug.

The final stuffy out of my care package from Frank and Amy.
Army dog.
We enjoyed him.

I see stuff!

I'm shaking Army dog so fast, you can't even see me!

The more stuff, the better.
(Mom would like me to mention that she feels quite the opposite.)

He's in enough pieces now that we can share arms and legs.

... unless I see Isabella has a limb that I want.

Army dog was no match for us. Ten minutes until he was stuffyless.
We still play with his outside and my human brother had to
clean up his insides. I don't think Matt likes stuffies either.

Winter finally set in to our desert climate. The rain softened up the ground enough to do some gardening. While my mom and siblings moved and planted some trees (snacks), Isabella and I enjoyed the mud.

What? It's time to come in?
Bummer.

No thanks on that shower thing.
We'll wait here until we dry.

Really? I can't spend the night here?
If you would remove these pavers from the
hole I dug, I could sleep in the cave. 

Well, I am kinda cold... and there are chunks of stuff
wedged in-between my toes... and I would like some dinner.

OK... I'll take a bath.

That was the day before the day that changed my life. I was "altered." Altered sounds nicer than it felt. No one asked me. I'm stitched on the inside, glued on the outside, with a 1/2 inch cut. I also got my stomach tacked - not my preference, but the SOP (Standard Operating Procedure) for military dogs. It's not as bad Mom thought because Captain Kimbrell (my nice vet) uses her fingers like scopes to operate inside of me without opening me wide. My booboo is only about 2-3 inches long, stitched inside, and glued on the outside. All my stitches dissolve so I don't have to go back. Here's when I came home. 

I tried to lick my booboos so my mean family put the tube of shame on me.
It's better than the cone of shame, but it was just as ineffective.
With a schnoz like mine, there's not much that can keep me from reaching what I want. 

They took it off since it didn't work and I was a good boy and left my booboos alone.
Then I took a nap.

I slept the rest of the day.

I want out.

Jail.
I don't recommend it.

The day after my surgeries, I felt much better. I wasn't allowed to eat all I wanted. It was rationed. That was the bummer. On day three, I was let out of jail, off pain meds, and back to my old self... so I am watched... all the time.... everywhere I go. I don't get to run or play until Wednesday. That's just cruel to me (and my family that have to keep me from being a puppy). 


That's it. I'm healing and waiting for the rest of my Wolfhounds to come home from Afghanistan. Haven't been to work in ages. Guess everyone is busy with... work. When Dad comes home, he'll take me. I can't wait!


Until then, NO FEAR.
Kolchak XVI