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Gizmo is on STRIKE
Posted at 9:40 PM, Feb. 11, 2008
My turn, my turn! Finally! Yes it’s me Moose (but I think you all know me as Stoopid). Since those Hollywood writer types are still on strike (and Gizmo thinks he’s that important), I get another shot at writing the column. You may remember my last writing attempt didn’t go too good cuz’ I wasn’t a very good speller, but you’ll be happy to know that I have completed the entire Hooked on Phonics mail order course and I think I’ve come along quite nicely.
Anyway, I know you’ve heard about that diet thing we got put on just after Christmas. Well, I’m here to tell you, there’s only one of us dieting and it’s not Gizmo. Us dogs have this thing called hierarchy and apparently, I’m not as high up on this hierarchy as Gizmo. When the humans put down the 2 bowls of food, he rushes in and scarfs up both bowls. Apparently he’s on the see-food diet and I get the air and water diet. I must admit though, that I am looking rather svelte. The humans have finally caught on to his tricks cuz’ now we have to eat in shifts. He gets the first shift and I’m stuck on the second shift. At least I’m getting fed again!
Now, to completely change the subject, how about this white stuff that’s laying all over my yard? I’m not quite sure, but I think I heard the humans call it snow. Whatever it is, I LOVE IT and don’t ever want it to go away. I have spent the entire day in it, rolling around, eating it, peeing in it and kicking it with my back legs to the high heavens. Grass is good to kick too, but not nearly as much fun. When I came in through the doggy door covered in snow this morning, the female human told the male human that someone had stolen her dog and replaced it with a baby polar bear. Baby polar bear my foot! I’m at least as mean and fierce as a big old daddy polar bear. Not to mention better looking.
I don’t know how long my writing gig will last but I’m hoping for more than just this one time. I am getting a little worried about Gizmo though. He seems to be seeing things in the yard that no one else sees. He spends the majority of the day barking furiously at invisible monsters. Every once in a while, I’ll go out and bark too, just to make him think that I’m seeing the monsters too. Trust me though, there’s nothing out there. He is (according to the humans) totally deaf. Personally, I just think he’s not interested.
Well my friends, my new best friend (the snow) is calling my name and I must heed that call. Lord knows how long it will stick around and I don’t want to miss the opportunities that await me (muddy paws, snow in the house, etc.).
Moose's Travels
Posted at 10:32 PM, Aug. 12, 2007
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Boy oh boy—do I have some stories for you. Moose and I have been very busy this last month. Our first big adventure was BOTH of us going to Grammy’s house. That is a first (and probably a last). The humans had to go to Colorado on business and Auntie Carol was out of town, so Grammy bravely relented to watch us both. I was none too excited about this idea, since I am the only one worthy of the royal treatment given by Grammy. Anyway, after we’d been there a few hours, it was time to eat. Rather than the usual china plate I eat on when there, Grammy had the nerve to try and feed us with PLASTIC BOWLS! Well, we both went on a hunger strike and refused to eat until we were served on the proper dinnerware. Our humans brought both of our beds to Grammy’s so we would have somewhere to sleep, but we didn’t bother to use them. I mean, why sleep on a Costco bed when you can have a king-size slice of heaven? Moose decided that even though there are TONS of toys at Grammy’s, chewing on her stuff was much better. I just knew that other shoe was gonna drop, I just didn’t know it was gonna drop at Grammy’s! She was none too pleased, let me tell you. I tried to explain to him that you don’t mess with Grammy but remember: he’s STOOPID! He did agree, however that staying there is the best. As a matter of fact, when we got home and didn’t receive the same treatment, we had our little doggy bags packed and ready by the front door hoping to go back to Grammy’s.
Our next big adventure was camping in Beaver. Well, the humans called it a motel, but to us, it was quite primitive. We were there for some holiday in July and again, no china to be found, so again with the hunger strike. We were so mad we even decided that we would go on a “poopin” strike. So, for three days, there was no eatin’ and no poopin’. You wanna see the humans get worried? They tried everything: Burger King, treats, nummies, etc. but we held strong to our pact. I overheard the female human even talking about taking us both to the vet when we got home! Fortunately for us, we got to go home the next day, and we made sure that we followed our regular “routines” so we didn’t have to go see Dr. H.
Don’t get me wrong—we still love going to Beaver, just for much shorter trips (i.e. NO OVERNIGHTS). Up there on the morning of this holiday, they think it’s real funny to shoot off a cannon about 6000 times at 6 in the morning. Now I don’t know what they’re shooting at, I only pray it’s not the Burger King!
Happy Spring
Posted at 2:43 PM, Aug. 8, 2007
Happy Spring to all of you! I am just back from a trip to Grammy’s and hate to tell you that apparently she got the word that I’m too fat cuz she didn’t kick down ANY extra goodies—not even when I was done doing my business. I only got 1/4 of a Beggin’ Strip, which is hardly worth the trouble I have to go through to get it.. Anyway, according to Grammy, I now have another amazing talent to add to my impressive resume—I’m psychic! I never had a name for it but now that I know that it’s an actual skill, I am really quite impressed with myself. It all started on the day my humans were due to pick me up at Grammy’s. At about 6PM, I just knew they were close by. They had been gone for a week, but I could tell they were near. I guess I started acting “all weird” (her words, not mine) so Grammy called the female human to find out where they were. Of course, they were only 1 hour away! Don’t ask me how we know these things—we just do.
I overhead my male human talking to some people by the name of “clients” the other day and apparently they think that this column is totally made up. Can you imagine anyone making this stuff up? I might be offended, if I knew what it meant. I know some of Stoopid’s antics are suspect, but trust me, they are as real as the day is long. Unfortunately, Stoopid has been freakishly good lately. As a matter of fact, he’s been SO good, he hasn’t been giving me any material to write about. I heard the female human talking about “waiting for the other shoe to drop”. I think that means that she’s just waiting for Stoopid to pick up where he left off. For now though, it appears that all the plants, shoes, clothes and anything laying around are safe from his mauling. Knowing Stoopid as I do, I’m just afraid that he has major home renovation plans, if you know what I mean.
Do any of you have shower monsters in your bathrooms? I see them at least twice a day at our house. They usually come out in the mornings, but I have seen them at night sometimes. I’ll be in the bedroom, snoozing on the bed and WHAM! Out comes the shower monster. First, one of the humans gets in this closed-in water box in the bathroom and then this horrible monster noise starts up. Being the guard dog that I am, it’s my job to go in there and slay the monster. Usually, I only have to bark for about 5 minutes before the ugly monster dies, but then the other human gets in the box, and I have to start all over again. I’m not quite sure how to get rid of these monsters, but the humans seem very grateful for the good job that I do. Gotta love job security!
Moose's musings
Posted at 2:22 PM, Aug. 8, 2007
Yes, it’s me, Moose (sometimes known as Stoopid). I begged and I pleaded for another chance to be able to share my views. I promised that I’d spell everything real good-like and try to use proper English. So, here goes. It may take me a little longer, because apparently I’m not as “smart” as Gizmo, but I am definitely gaining on him in popularity. I got to go to Auntie Carol’s for a couple of weeks recently and was hounded (no pun intended) by numerous adoring fans. What with being chased by the ‘pawperazzi’ and bothered to constantly sign my ‘pawtograph’, I barely had time to get into any trouble. Ah, the life of a celebrity! I can only imagine what Paris Hilton’s fur baby must be going through right now.
I was thumbing (well, not really thumbing, since I don’t have thumbs) through some of Gizmo’s previous columns and thought I’d better comment on some things he’s told you. Shower Monsters don’t really exist. Oh, I’m sure in the deep, twisted recesses of his mind he believes, but I’m here to tell you, there ain’t no such thing. Near as I can tell, he might be slipp ing a bit in the mental stability department.
One thing that IS true: He’s fat! No bones about it. He’s not big-boned, short for his weight, thyroid challenged, or anything else but just plain porcine. I’m thinking it must have something to do with the extra nummies at Grandma’s house. I’ll be the first to admit that I have some extra love on my handles but at least I can go on really long walks. Gizmo is ready to have the female human go get the car after 1 or 2 blocks.
Another truth: I have pretty much stopped being destructo-dog. I mean, you can only chew so many shoes, dig so many holes, eat so many plants, pants and other various clothing items. I know it took me a while, but I started to realize that being called a good dog has many more rewards than being shipped off to Cesar the Dog Whispering guy. Why does he whisper anyway?
Anyway, I know my female human is just waiting for the other shoe to drop (or get chewed) but I’m SO over that stuff now. I really like the freedom (parole?) that being a good dog gets me. Even though I still get that yearning sometimes to go out in the backyard, dig a big hole and see what the relatives in China are up to, I’m doing my best to resist temptation. Maybe, just maybe, if I’m really good, the female human will let me use the computer to e-mail my Chinese relatives and I won’t have to desecrate the yard in order to stay in touch.
July ramblings
Posted at 2:08 PM, Aug. 8, 2007
Well, I finally wrestled the computer back from Moose. He thinks that just because he spells better than last time, that he should be able to write EVERY month. Au contraire! They don’t call this “Gizmo’s Gossip” so Moose can write it. The only problem I have with doing this column every month is the dreaded Carpawl Tunnel Syndrome I’ve developed in my right paw. Those darned repetitive motion injuries...
Not much has been going on around our house and Moose has been behaving himself for the most part, although he has a new hobby—he thinks its really cool to hang his head out of the car window. For those of you who aren’t from around these parts, it’s been about a gazillion degrees outside. This weather is NOT prime dog-head-hanging-out-the-window time. For some reason, Moose has the male human convinced that it’s ok to drive around St. George with the window all the way down, just so he can look cool. For those of us who are already cool, it’s just darned annoying. Yeah, he looks really cool when we get home and he passes out on the bed from heat exha ustion. Real cool Moose!
Our humans are actually thanking their lucky stars that we are as well-behaved as we are. My female humans’ sister recently had occasion to rescue a dog from the shelter. Well, all was good and fine for the first two weeks and then one night they came home after only an hour away and found that the dog had gone berserk and chewed up the entire couch! Not only that, but the curtains were ripped down and magazines were shredded into little, bitty pieces! I heard them saying something about so much stuffing on the floor, it looked like it snowed in their living room. Makes us look pretty good, eh?
We did get to go on a trip to Beaver a few weeks ago, and yes, of course we got a burger! You didn’t honestly think that diet thing was gonna stick, did ya? Let me tell you, willpower is no different for a dog. Most of the time the humans leave the house nowadays, they are always telling us that we have to stay home, because it’s too hot. That’s A-OK with me—I’d much rather be home, sleeping on the bed with that wonderful hole in the ceiling blowing delightful, frigid air. So, if you happen to see the male human driving around town, the only dog you’ll see in the car is Stoopid. Come to think of it, who’s the Stoopid one—the dog or the human who allows it? Hmmmm……
Gizmo goes on a Diet!
Posted at 1:55 PM, Mar. 13, 2007
This month, I’m afraid I’ve got some really bad news for you. I’ve been put on a DIET! It all started when my female human took me to that dog doctor. Now, mind you, there is NEVER anything good that happens at that place. As I recollect over years past, it seems that every time I’ve been there, something gets lopped off, poked, prodded or even less desirable procedures that I won’t go into here. Anyway, this dog doctor put me on the scale and said I was “too fat”. TOO FAT?!? How can that be? I eat right, I exercise and yet, I’m fat? Okay, so maybe I haven’t been exercising all that much lately, but surely that is not my fault. I have to have a human hooked to the end of the leash to make that happen, right? And who can refuse those tempting nummies offered up so frequently?
So, after the disappointing news from the so-called “dog doctor”, I now find myself limited in my food intake. “What’s the big deal?” you ask? The big deal is that Stoopid is NOT on a diet. I know I’m just a dog (although a very smart one) but for the life of me I can’t figure out why I’m considered obese and he’s not. Supposedly he only weighs 11 pounds and I tipped
the scales at 13. That didn’t sound like much to me until the dog doctor started telling the female human that 2 pounds on me is like 20 on her. Hmmmmm….
When the female human was telling the male human about my predicament, I overheard him saying something about sending me to “Fat Camp”. I don’t know about you, but anything with the word “camp” in it can’t be all bad. Where do I sign up?
Wait just a minute! It suddenly dawned on me. I know why I’m 2 pounds heavier than “Stoopid”. I’m at least 100 times smarter than he is, so that would mean my brain would weigh more, right? Also, I’m sure the heavy collar with all the tags on it probably makes up the difference. Not to mention all the hair on me. Now I just have to convince the humans.
Until then, I just have to hope and pray that there will be lots of overnight trips to Grammie’s house, because I know she’s not as tough with me. Remember, she’s the one who gives me a Beggin’ Strip just for doing my “business”. All I’ve got to do at Grammie’s is just give her the big “Gizzie” eyes and I can have whatever I want. I mean, I even eat off of a china plate there, and get my face washed with a warm pink washcloth. (Promise you won’t tell anyone about the pink washcloth, okay?) Just maybe, I’ll tell Grammie about that cool Burger King place...
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