All posts tagged: barking dogs

We sure class up the Park.

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That’s right. When the WideEyedHousehold hits Buffalo’s historic Delaware Park for walkies on a Sunday afternoon, the classiness level escalates. As it should. Olmsted designed this park for promenading. For nodding at neighbors. This past Sunday was cold and rainy. The wind slashed and our rain gear rustled. I made my standard comment, “This is just like weather the Aleutians!” Usually we have the park to ourselves in foul conditions, but after the Big Storm people were out running, skating, strolling like it was a sunny summer day. Miss Tibbit displayed her manners and deportment for everyone by hooting and baying at a big, white pony-sized dog, an ancient Golden Retriever, a large piece of blowing trash (no one has ever claimed she is smart), a brownish dog, and a yellow lab who ran past with a ball in his mouth. Each time she heaved her 35 pounds against her little pink harness and jumped around on her hind legs while caroling out her high pitched psychopathic singing yelps. “Cookie?” I asked each time. Her butt …

Hamish Believes He’s Been Cheated.

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Hamish the Corgi is guest writing this week. I, WideEyedFunk, bear no responsibility for the opinions expressed below. I am disgusted by recent household events and I am done with sulking. Miss Tibbit was forced to attend dog training classes a couple of weeks ago because she is mildly disobedient, and in my opinion, really obnoxious. She is a toy-stealing, leash pulling punk. I believed Dog Training was a punishment. I have recently become aware of some facts that have made me rethink that notion. I now believe that I have been cheated. Here are the top 10 reasons I believe I have been cheated. 1. Miss Tibbit gets fed treats one after another for an hour during training class. 2. Miss Tibbit gets fed treats one after another for an hour during training class. 3. Miss Tibbit gets fed treats one after another for an hour during training class. 4. Miss Tibbit gets fed treats one after another for an hour during training class. Sit? Stay? Come when called? Ridiculous to treat for these. I sit …

Miss Tibbit does not care for pixies.

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Nor does she like princesses. Finds Captain America alarming. Is disturbed by tiny Spidermans. Chefs, nurses, steampunkers, post apocalypse victims, bees, cats, and ninjas – also Not OK. Miss Tibbit alerted us to her concern for three continuous hours last evening. A tiny pixie quivered and shook in fear as she selected a tootsie roll from our bowl of treats. Miss Tibbit’s gaping, toothy maw was visible and audible in the large window behind me. I get that it is a little weird for Miss Tibbit, having strangers tromp up onto her porch. Ringing doorbells. Yelling in high voices “Trick or Treat”.  But I had to ask her, Miss Tibbit, where were you when someone stole our middle sized pumpkin yesterday afternoon? Why wasn’t an actual perp more disturbing than 30 inch high vampires? Miss Tibbit had no answer for me. She sniffed my face while I asked and tried to look intelligent.

Hamish the Corgi is Embarrassing.

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Have you ever heard of display urination? No? Neither had I until Hamish the Corgi came into my life. Evidently dogs, male dogs most of the time, like to lift their legs nice and high to wee when other dogs are around. Hamish is keenly aware when an unfortunate is locked inside, watching from a parlor window as Hamish prances across this other dog’s front yard. Hamish will take a moment to be sure he is in the ideally, most obnoxiously centered viewing position, then he will lift his tiny, 5 inch leg as high as dogly possible to wee on that other dog’s property. Usually you can hear the barking change from alert to berserker during the display. If that were all, I’d probably get over it. However. And mind you, I’m going to have to be indelicate here. Hamish, my furry pal, my buddy who is napping next to me now, well, he’s a display dooker too. Don’t be coy, you know what dog dookies are. The problem, if we can stretch our …

The Dog Has An Opinion. Why Do I Listen?

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Hamish just told me he thinks it’s more than time for morning walkies. It was simply his opinion. I didn’t care. Then he expressed his opinion to Miss Tibbit and she got all excited about it. It is now her opinion, also. Evidently, we will be having walkies soon if I am to have any peace in my day of Big Thinking. Hamish has an opinion a little too often in the course of a day. He believes that Wiggins The Cat should not be wandering around the house at 5:30am. He tells the cat so. We all must listen as a captive, bed-ridden audience. He strongly believes that nasty looking, ancient, fuzzy dog should not walk on our sidewalk or wee on our flower beds three times a day, every day. He cries his thoughts on the matter in full voice, telling the block, telling the scrappy dog. As far as I can tell, only Miss Tibbit cares. Hamish is entrenched in the notion that toys are his, and he graciously allows Miss Tibbit …