Thursday, August 30, 2007

If the Oscarman Could Talk

You idjuts. You complete and utter idjuts.

Not only do you blind me. Again. You make me stand on my back two paws as I'm getting squashed by the thighs of death. For the love of God, someone
call the Animal Police!!

Please... hurry...

Picky Eater

Last night, I thought I'd treat the little guy to a special meal, a meal to end all meals, at least in doggyworld. He's a canine and all, but I figured that at some point he must get really tired of eating the same old kibble every single day.

(Though, granted, he does eat premium all-natural kibble from a specialty dog store in Wilton. Oh no, don't say we don't treat our little Oscarman like a king. Because we do. Oh yes, the Oscarman is one lucky lucky dog.)

So I chopped up some delicious apple and sprinkled it into his bowl, thinking he was going to LOVE it.

Instead, do you want to know what the little man did? He proceeded to pick out,
one by one, each tiny piece of apple and set it gingerly on the kitchen floor. He was actually quite polite in his refusal to eat the apple, but it did hurt Mom's feelings just a little bit.

I mean, what happened to that ingrained wolf instinct to scarf down all of their food? Clearly, this doggy has been spoiled.

Or else my cooking is just that bad.

Not Too Bright, But We'll Take Him

About a month ago, my husband and I signed the Oscarman up for obedience classes at PetSmart. He's not been very good about responding when called, which the customer service rep over the phone assured me would be sorted out after some lessons at their doggy bastion of learning.

So far, he's been to two classes. There are eight more to go. We still have hope, right? Right?

Wednesday, August 29, 2007

If the Oscarman Could Talk

For the love of Milkbones and all things sacred, would you please stop blinding me with that stupid camera!!

Talk About A Lucky Dog

Sorry, Oscar, you probably will not have a trust fund, but a dog can still dream, can't he?

Tuesday, August 28, 2007

Oscarman and Me: Our Typical Work Day

Believe it or not, my dog is a working stiff. Literally.

He's down in the office with me, Monday to Friday, 9 to 5. His desk is right underneath my desk chair. He parks himself there in the morning and basically lays around until it's time to go "home" at night. (Since I work out of my house, "home" is basically upstairs for us.)

He does get one pee break around noon. Because, boy, lying around is tough work. Today, he was distracted by a couple of kids walking by the house, so it took him a while to get down to business. Here he is looking happy and emptied after a hearty leak.

Periodically throughout the day, he'll get up to bark at a passerby. Or the mailman. Or a siren. You know, whatev.

Then it's back to chillaxing for the rest of the day.

Listen Closely

You can hear Andy farting in the background. Tehehe.

Monday, August 27, 2007

You Blinded Me!

Say cheese!

Let me introduce you to the Oscarman. He's a one-year-old shih tzu mix that my husband, Andy, and I picked up from the Westport shelter about three months ago in May.

He'd just had his balls lopped off when we got him, and looked like a scraggly-haired mess. But we fell in love with him right away, and now he's part of the Hull clan.

These are the chronicles of his amazing adventures. They will consist of things like:
  • drooling excessively in a car
  • dozing beneath my chair
  • shaking a stuffed man-doll around wildly
  • scarfing down treats
  • behaving badly in obedience class and having a foghorn blown in his ear
I love this little guy so much. I hope you will get to, too.