I concede

By now the world knows that my bid to become the First Dog has failed. Though the new First Dog has been "rehomed" and "he's got tuxedo-black fur, with a white chest, white paws and a rakish white goatee." It's not me. What can I say? Bo ran a good campaign based on his hypoallergenic platform. Welcome to the 'Hood, Bo. Watch out for those Secret Service dogs, they don't have much of a sense of humor.

Training hampered

I have a rather embarrassing problem that is causing my swim training to be on hold. I'm shedding. A LOT. For several weeks. Hair is just falling off me everywhere. Clumps of hair. I suppose this is a good sign that spring is here, but it's embarrassing to clog up the filter at the pool. So for now, it's just running for me.

Lazy Sunday Afternoon

Dear Santa,

Perhaps, my letter is a bit late or perhaps you couldn't find my house. I was really hoping for this.

Sometimes, I can't find a human to run with. It would be really nice to turn on Animal Planet and jog away. It seems a whole lot healthier than eating toilet paper when I'm bored.

Back to work . .

My mountain guide service was back in business today. We headed out to Little Devils Stairs. Big Al stayed home to rest and recover, so I took lead and sweep duties. Here's mom and I taking a quick photo break. Don't I look like a regal mountain dog?


Oh, and I actually saw a partridge, but it wasn't in a pear tree.

I'm being a good dog.

Mostly because I'm afraid this will happen to me.





Big Al is doing well. But he keeps whacking me with that lampshade.

I'm glad that I'm not a poodle.

Warning: this is slightly disturbing.