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Showing posts with label Cute. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cute. Show all posts
Calgon, Take Me Away
Video Description: A dog lies on its back in a soapy bath, luxuriating, while its person scrubs its belly, because dogs know how to live.
[Via The Daily What.]
Daily Dose of Cute
Dudley Q. McEwan, Professional Goofball.
Lest anyone mistake this for a fleeting moment in world-class goofballery serendipitously captured on not-film, Dudley was asleep in this position for a good ten minutes or so, before he flopped onto his side with his tongue hanging out and began to snore.
Daily Dose of Cute
Lord Dudlington takes his breakfast on the settee.
Dudley—who, as previously documented, is One of Those Dogs who constantly has to be taken to the vet for something, whether it's eyeball drama or butt hullabaloo—was limping pitiably this weekend after hurting his front left paw while zooming around the backyard. Now, Dudz routinely tears his paws to pieces, because he is not only a beastie capable of running 45mph but also a total glaik, so we're used to cleaning cuts and removing thorns and not getting totally alarmed every time he has a little limp. But this was a serious limp, and we feared a broken or dislocated toe (to which greys are prone), so it was off to the vet. Again.
Luckily for Dudz (and us), it was not a broken toe; it's merely the equivalent of a sprained ankle. So he's been prescribed an anti-inflammatory and bed rest.
Zelda keeps watch on the floor in front of the settee: "I got this."
Trying to keep Dudz and Zelly from playing together is the hardest part, although I shan't complain about having two playful dogs who love each other.
At the animal clinic, the vet noticed that Dudley had some bruising on his belly and the inside of his back legs, easily noticeable since those areas are pink and hairless. "Um, that's where our other dog bumps him with her head when she runs underneath him," I told the vet. "It's, like, the best game ever." The vet and the vet tech laughed. Of course it is.
Yesterday, after we got home, I was watching Animal Cops: Phoenix and a mixed-breed dog that clearly had greyhound in him whimpered onscreen. Zel almost never reacts to anything on the television, but that greyhoundy whimper sent her tearing up the stairs to the loft where Dudley was resting, to make sure he was okay.
"Let me know if you need anything, buddy." BFFs.
Daily Dose of Cute
Video Description: Zelda the black-and-tan mutt chases Dudley the white-and-red greyhound around the back of the garden. When he gets too far ahead of her, he slows down to let her catch up, but never actually catch him. They stop, and I tell her, "Zelda, get him! Go get him!" She runs after him some more. Repeat.
* * *
As I mentioned, we recently had to have our back garden fenced in, as the two-years-and-counting increasingly FUBARed construction project on our street is set to leave us without sidewalks in every direction for possibly six months. So, since we live in a place that doesn't give a fuck about basic amenities, but do ourselves give a fuck about providing our dogs with regular exercise, we had to spring for a fence.
(To give you some idea of how absurdly mismanaged and chronically stupid this project is, they are spending today tearing out the street in front of our house. Great idea, because who needs access to their driveways on a holiday weekend? I'm sure no one was planning on having people over for Thanksgiving.)
Anyway! Although it was highly irritating to be obliged by local incompetence to put ourselves in debt, the dogs are convinced we've gifted them with their own private dog park, and their joyfulness makes me happy.
Dudley has also been inspired to invent a new game which I call Bump. Basically, the game consists of Dudley bumping me, lol. I stand in the middle of the yard, and he walks over and flops against the back of my legs as hard as he can, and then I say, "BUMP!" and he curls around me then flops against the front of my legs, then the sides, and around and around, looking up at me and grinning like a fool while I say, "BUMP! BUMP!" and pet him and give him kisses.
He is 70 pounds, and this game will definitely put me on the ground someday. But probably not before Zelda's new game of "RUN AT TWO-LEGS AT TOP SPEED THEN LAUNCH MYSELF THROUGH THE AIR AT HER WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!" does.
Daily Dose of Cute
Zelda: "I will be RIGHT HERE if you need me. RIGHT HERE. I am not moving as long as you feel less than perfect. Just whatever you need, you let me know. I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to be RIGHT HERE."
Dudley: "Yeah, me too, totally. I'm going to be right he—zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz."
This was pretty much the dog-scene at Shakes Manor for the past week. It's funny how each of the animals had their own way of being supportive: Olivia, who is normally sticking her ass in my face demanding attention anytime she's within two feet of me, has been hovering close, just keeping an eye on me. Sophie magically appears every time I get a particularly strong wave of nausea, as if figuratively offering to hold my hair. Matilda shows up to sit on me whenever I get chilled—and the jockeying for position in which she and Zelly typically engage has been set aside. For now, ahem. *raised eyebrow*
In an extremely fortunate bit of timing, the fence we had put in the backyard (rendered an expensive necessity by the ongoing construction which will soon leave us with no sidewalks at all, not even crappy ones, for as long as six months) was completed just days before I got ill, so instead of having to walk the dogs, I was able to let them out into the newly-fenced garden. They love it like whoa, basically believing they've now got their own private dog park, and they jet out the back door like two shots when it's time to go out.
But when I was feeling rubbishy, they ambled out slowly and stood beside me, looking up at me. "Go on, go pee," I told them. Zelda squatted where she stood, and peed in a pile of leaves, never taking her eyes off of me. "Go on!" I laughed, waving them into the yard. They stood next to me. Dudley peed against the edge of the stone patio. "Go play!" I said. If dogs could shake their heads, they would have. Nuh-uh, Two-Legs. We ain't going anywhere.
I turned to go back inside, figuring if I left them, they'd play. I closed the screen door behind me, and turned to shut the storm door. There they sat, on the other side of the screen door, patiently waiting to be let back in. "Go on, I'm fine!" I assured them.
Dudley whined. Zelda nudged the door with her nose. I opened it and let them in.
Mutual Rescue
by Shaker BrianWS
I've always wanted a greyhound for as long as I can remember. When I was finishing college at Portland State University in Oregon, I volunteered time with a greyhound rescue group there, but I wasn't ready for a dog at that point in my life. After several years of winding my way around the country, and finally settling back in the Chicago area, I knew I was ready for a dog.
I met Dudley for the first time when I went to visit Liss for a lazy afternoon last spring, and I can confirm that, at that point, it was ALL over for me being without a dog. I work at home in a job that leaves my summer really busy (and frequently takes me to work events outside of the home) and my winter/spring the complete opposite where I'm home all the time—so the transition period of fall was the perfect time to bring home a canine companion. Near the end of my busy season of work, I went to the annual picnic for American Greyhound with Liss, the rescue from which she and Iain had adopted Dudz, so I could meet the dogs available for adoption.
I had my heart set on getting a black female greyhound. Doing research on the website before the picnic (i.e. endlessly mooning over dog pictures), I fell in love with a black female greyhound. I checked her page daily to see if she had been adopted yet, and, much to my dismay (for me) and happiness (for her), she was soon adopted. But I was just SURE that I wanted to bring a black female greyhound home with me. I even had this brilliant plan to name my new female dog Paget (after Paget Brewster from Criminal Minds). I kept checking the website.
Daily Dose of Cute
There has CLEARLY already been a heaping helping of cute already today, care of Deeks and Jack. But who couldn't use more cute? (I could!)
Dudley and Zelda are always Very Concerned About the Goings-On when Iain and/or I do anything outside around the house. They take up spying positions wherever they can find them, but the best place ever is obviously at the front door.
"We have Some Concerns about what may or may not be going on out there."
Dudley: "All this standing and looking has really wiped me out."
When the front door window is not available, the window over the couch will suffice, although it's totally not as good.
"This vantage point stinks. Let's get Two-Legs to open the front door."
Daily Dose of Cute
Oh the humanity.
(That is, for the record, a stuffing-less plushy toy raccoon draped across Zelda's head. I was trying to engage her in a game of tug-o-war with it, but she prefers to play tug-o-war with Dudley and play RUN AROUND IN CIRCLES!!! with me, so I put it on her head.)
Daily Dose of Cute
Dudley: Twooooooooo-Leeeeeeeeegs! Make her mooooooooove! I wanna lay dowwwwwwwwwn!
Zelda: Blerp blorp. Treats. Blerp blorp. Toys. Blerp blorp. Treats.
Dudley: Oh my GOD. This is the worst thing to happen in the history of America!
Zelda: Blerp blorp!
Daily Dose of Cute
Olivia contemplates sticking her paw into my water glass, to draw out the last drops of melted ice on her wee fuzzy digits. Normally, I'm not a mind-reader, but I've seen this look before. Ahem.
Daily Dose of Cute
Passing the guest room on the way into my office one day recently, I glanced in and saw Dudley lying on the bed. He looked at me and wagged the tip of his long tail in a friendly hi. I went in to lay down next to him for just a moment, and I was suddenly overcome with appreciation for him. I stroked his ear in the way he loves, and I said to him, "I'm so grateful I know you. Thank you for being such an important part of my life." I told him why he has meant so much to me and that I love him. He looked back at me with his big brown eyes. I chuckled to myself, at my silliness. "I know you don't understand what I'm saying," I said, "but I hope you feel the sentiment, at least; I hope you know you have opened my heart." He reached out his paw and laid it on my chest, right over my heart.
I know it was just a coincidence. But it sure was a good one.
