Dog Blog: Buddy

Hoooooooowl Deeeeee!  

Buddy here; although the bi-peds also call me Bud, Bubba, Bub, Blondie, and The Bubbanator.  Honestly don't care...they can call me anything except late for dinner

Buddy: The "Real" Companion

My role here is simple...security.  If anything appears to be threatening me, my food, or my toys; I bark.  When there isn't an apparent threat, I lay down motionless--sometimes for hours at a time like a furry, blonde ninja--waiting for the unsuspecting intruder to dismiss me as a pile of shag carpeting...then WHAMMO...I'll raise my head and give 'em a good starin'.  

As a master of disguise, I've been able to sneak into bi-ped events as Bud Dog-Jovi and his punk rock friend Iggy Guana

Then there's the food security.  Since the Old Man is constantly worried about the recommended time-limit on how long you should keep leftovers, I am constantly having to reduce that threat.  This takes up almost as much time as my "laying down" security job.  Even when I'm not actually doing it, I'm thinking about it.  Some days I work so hard on removing the food-spoilage threat that I can barely move later.  This is actually the best part of the job, as The Woman is a great cook.  Her bread soppin's and kettle juice make me drool (but nothing like my nerdy brother Callie).  You would think that she would just cut back on how much she cooks; but hey...she'll need to figure that out on her own.

Gotta admit, the early stages of expanding our territory was a bit confusing.  Outta nowhere, the Old Man started staying home.  Not that he ever worked hard after taking that bug-catching job, but suddenly he just quit waking up early and putting on his blue clothes.  Then I overheard him talking about taking out a big life insurance policy.  So I started wondering...maybe he's thinking about dying, and--with The Woman being the beneficiary--maybe she's thinking about helping.  Here's the problem; me and the Old Man may be leashed together when he decides to throw caution to the wind and forget he's not as young and nimble as me.  Now I'm not suggesting he's suicidal or anything like that, but I must admit that his venturing to the edge of cliffs so that he can hold up his little click-machine to the horizon does make me nervous.  

The bi-peds are always interest in the bushes and flowers for all the wrong reasons.

Anyway...things began to settle down after we arrived at The Kansas Farmhouse.  One morning he was off the big elevated dog mattress before sunrise, and was hauling the mobile dog house away.  I figured he was trying to get rid of it before The Woman awoke, so I played along like I didn't see anything (he has a talent for making her mad).  He came back without it, but instead of her being angry, he and The Woman kept saying the word "bathroom.”  This is their non-clever code word for the poop closet, as there isn’t a bathtub in that room.  I figured he must have really stunk it up this time and had taken it to get the inside cleaned-up.  I could never get either of them to use the bushes, so after 9-months, the inside of that closet must have been disgustingly vile 

"...and i thought they smelled bad...on the outside." ~ Bi-ped side-kick of The Great Chewbaca

Doesn't surprise me.  Some of the stuff the Old Man eats isn't fit to wallow in.  He'll make a trip to the 6-Pedal Daisy store and come back with fried bird chunks that are so dry you gotta eat them in the rain.  I have no idea where he hunts for these tough and greasy birds, but my suspicions is in the dumpster.  I've learned to make myself scarce after these episodes, lest I get blamed for stinkin' up the place.  Then he tries to cover it up with stuff inside the hissing can.  All it ends up doing is making the place smell like a flower planted in manure.  Gotta love 'em anyway...they try hard; they're easy to manipulate; and it's better than livin' on the streets.

Was wondrin' when the Old Man would introduce some real literary intellect to this site.  Don't get me wrong...he has some good traits; but anyone who still relieves themselves indoors at their age might not be the brightest pup in the litter.  One thing that has been missing from his blog is traveling tips for the distinguished canine.  I spent some of my early years on a cultural tour of South-Side San Antonio, studying the feral arts.  Then I traveled to the far-away beach where sticks aren't for fetching, but for eating.  With a lot of miles logged on these paws, I've managed to come up with a few travel tips that have worked for me.

The whole key to livin' on the road is summed up in two basic principles: figure out the bi-peds daily routine; and figure out a way to disrupt it.  If you can master these two principles, you’ll be rollin’ in clover.

With such a food-oriented job, I'm forced to count calories

My personal goal is always to get food.  My ultimate goal is to get road food from The Smiling Star or The Cow Store.  The Old Man and The Woman are creatures of habit...always wanting to "stay on schedule."  They also have back-up plans that they always talk about.  Makes no sense to make plans on what to do when you fail, as you could use that time to make failure-proof plans.  Anyway, the backup plan is key; because road food is the backup plan.  If the bi-peds can't stay on schedule, they panic.  When they panic, they go straight for the backup plan.  If you can get them to execute the back-up plan, you’re eating salty-tots.  Here are some tried and true methods for stressing the bi-peds schedule and forcing the back-up plan (with pros/cons for each tactic).

1.  Threaten to vomit. If done correctly and timed just right, it is just as effectve as actually vomiting.  This strategy manipulates two of their biggest worries:          
     - they'll have to clean up dog vomit, and 
     - you're going to ruin all the stuff they are continually collecting. 
This will cause them to stop the Truk and spend time "watching" to make sure you're not going to hurl.  They'll also make more frequent stops--which is a side bennie if you have a lot of places you've always wanted to mark.   If you can add an hour to their travel time, you're probably having chicken strips for dinner.  
Important Note: Only do this early in the day as they will not give you road food right after you've acted sick.  Not sure why--as eating anything makes me feel better--but that's just my observations.

2.  Actually vomit.  Any dog worth his teeth can do this on demand.  It's not immediately pleasant--and the stress level will greatly increase inside the Truk--but it will have the same effect as #1 if you don't do it too early in the day, and you don't do it too much.

3.  Hold your deuce.  Even when you have to go, sometimes it's best to just hold it.  Both bi-peds (but The Woman In particular) seem fixated on how many times I visit the bushes.  Even though I've held it for over 3-days (12 human hours) while traveling in my air-crate, she still thinks I'm going to do to the Truk what she and the Old Man do to the closet.  If you think up-chucking in the Truk stresses them, this terrifies them!  If you find that you can't hold it during the potty breaks, you can fake needing to go by passing a little gas.  The Woman will blame the Old Man; he'll blame me; we'll make a few unscheduled stops; and cheese fries are in-the-bag (pun intended). 

4.  Chase an animal on a potty break.  Simple tactic that also breaks-up the monotony of highway travel.  If there's tall grass or bushes around, you don't even need to see an animal--just take off running like you did.  A big draw-back here is that you'll get a good talking to by The Woman and you'll likely be on leash until they forget this episode.  Regardless, I've never been denied dinner for chasing something, so it's still in my playbook.

5.  Move slowly on moving day.  Although my favorite and most-used tactic, this one is listed behind the others as it takes some skill to recognize moving day.  If you can identify bi-ped actions that indicate they're getting ready to move (i.e. Chairs facing backwards and rice cooker in the sink), you can set your plan in motion.  Start by not eating the morning meal.  This will make them think you're either sick (which is a fantastic lead-in to tactics 1-3 above), or they'll think all the moving activity is preventing you from eating, so they'll stop and wait for you to finish your meal.  The key here is to seem a little interested in eating.  If you play this one too hard, they might pick up the uneaten bowls--which is never a good outcome.  Next, start laying on things they need to pack away.  The outside rug is a great place to start.  After that, just be more lethargic than normal.  The more time they spend getting getting you motivated, the less time they have for making non-road food.

6.  Roll in something stinky.  This is my nuclear option.  I would not attempt this until all other options have been exhausted.  The obvious result is that they will have to stop and get the smell off of you.  Since the average wash/dry time fir a long-hair breed like myself is over two human hours, this will ensure a busted schedule.  The down side is that you will get a very long talking to by The Woman (and maybe the Old Man), and there will certainly be a not-so-pleasant bath to follow.  Additionally, the Old Man may opt for that nasty 6-Pedal Daisy Store food.  You gotta decide if the risk is worth it.




Hope all you "mundivagant mutts” (I really don’t talk like this, I’m just mocking the Old Man) can glean some traveling insight from this.  I’ll leave you with a little Irish Setter blessing:

May a sandy road rise up to meet your paws.
May the wind always make your jowls flap.
May the sun shine warm upon your belly,
May lighting and rains fall upon the cats.
And until we sniff butts again,
May your bi-peds hold your leash with lots of slack.

~ Buddy