239 - AN ACCOMPLISHED THIEF

He started his life of crime as a young boy.
You can see the look of regret in his eyes.

My dog, Toby, is a thief.  The minute I let him in the house he takes off like a shot to see what he can find before I catch up with him.

That's the wrapped sport and napkin in his mouth!

One particular day, I went to KFC to get some chicken. Toby went with me, as usual, as I am trying to get his acclimated to riding in the car.  Like most dogs he loves to hang his head out the window (in this part of the country we call dogs that do that hedge or tree trimmers).  Anyway, the back windows were down so he could do his thing.

Toby was hanging out the back (driver's side) window, sniffing the delightful smell coming from KFCThe kid handed me the sack with the meal inside, however he forgot to give the napkin wrapped spork.  He said, "Oh, sorry, here's your spork," and with that he handed it out the window.  In a blink of an eye, Toby reached out and grabbed the darned thing right out of the kid's hand.  The kid cracked up and then yelled over his shoulder, "Hey guys, come see this dog.  He just stole this lady's spork!"  Everyone clustered around the window as they watched Toby prance around the back seat with his prize.  I declined a new spork and drove off laughing to myself.  Toby kept his prize until I got home and cornered him in the back seat.

The thing is, I always go around and do what Walmart calls (over the intercom) ZONE RECOVERY before I let Toby in.  Checking everywhere for things that can be grabbed forces me to be a neater housekeeper, but I must be lousy because he ALWAYS finds something.  My reading glasses are his number one target.  Next are pens and my hairbrush.

Spoons are also a favorite.

He first charges into the kitchen and quickly checks the floors, counters, and table.  Heaven help me if I left one of the chairs pulled out at the table because he will hop up onto the chair and grab something (anything) and then he takes off.  He thinks it is a game (eyes bright with tail and butt wagging), no matter how punitive I get, this is a game he continues to want to play.

Finally, he has started to respond to a YELLED (with a threatening voice) D R O P   I T !  He will hang his head and then slowly walk toward me, then drop the pilfered item.  However, sometimes, just before he gets to me, his head will pop up, his eyes will get THAT look of devilishness, his hind quarters will start to wag and off he goes for a loop or two around the front room, behind and up onto every chair.   He will then zip right past me and make a tour of the rest of the house.  I have taken to shutting the doors to every room that has a door.

                                   

                                   But he will glom onto anything he can grab.
                            Here he is with a duster.

"Awh, Mannnn, do I have to give this bottle back?"

The reason I do not have many pictures of Toby is because he is in constant motion.  My camera's shutter doesn't move fast enough to capture anything but a blur.

Here is a snatch and run that was taken when
I was sanding the floor of my bathroom.  Yes, that is
sandpaper he took off with.

Toby is super smart and has learned a lot of tricks.  When asked to bring his Moo-Cow he selects the correct one from the pile and brings it to me (he also does this with Duck, Blanket, Bone and Froggie).
He sits, lays down, gets up and speaks on command.  He shakes hands and bows when asked.  However, the commands "Stay" and "Leave It," are known to him and followed ONLY WHEN HE WANTS TO!

I teven taught him to shut doors.  Now, he shuts every door that is open.  I thought that was really cool.  However, that thought went right out of my mind one night, as I heard the LOCKED front door slam behind me when I went out to turn off the water.  I seriously think he knew what he was doing and was secretly celebrating with a winners lap around inside the house.  In addition to this, he has shut himself in the bathroom, twice.


kt 4/12

COMING ATTRACTIONS:

#240 - 

#204-"BOO!, BUG-A-BOO, T0BY, AND A KITTY TOO!"

PARDON THE BRIEF INTERRUPTION:  Ok, fishducky, don't go all postal on me.  "A Miracle" accidentally posted and I had to yank it off.  It won't post until October 10th, sorry, kiddo  kt 

Gene William, Age 4 (he is 15 now).

You all know what I mean when I refer to the “startle reflex,” don’t you?  Well, mine is extremely more developed than most.  For example, one of my grandson’s favorite pastime (when he was a little kid) was to slip up on me and say, “BOO!”  At that, I would fling whatever was in my hands up into the air, jump about a foot off of the floor, shoot my arms out, and shriek.  Gene William found this hilarious.  Over time he realized that he didn’t even have to say boo but just sneak up and stand close to me to get almost the same reaction.  In fact, he could get that reaction several times in a row as long as I didn’t know he was lurking close by.   There have been times when I just turned around and jumped out of my skin because I wasn’t expecting him to be behind me.  The degree of the “FREAK OUT” would be dictated by the strength of whatever I was concentrating on, prior to the surprise.

I have always had this over-reaction to surprises of this nature and have often wondered what would happen if a truly BAD guy snuck up on me.   I would probably do the same thing and startle the BAD guy who would reflexively shoot me.  Never would I ever be composed enough to grab something and protect myself.  Knowing me, I would simply go off like an automatic fire alarm and shower said BAD guy with spittle and what ever was in my hands at the time (hopefully an anvil or frying pan).

All of this is being told to you to help you envision a short episode lasting about 3 seconds which developed into a "startle reflex" marathon.  I was sitting here at my computer typing away; deeply involved with what I was writing.  Suddenly, something brushed against my foot and bit my little piggy.   I kid you not, I came up out of my chair so fast that both knees slammed into the desk and I left the chair like a person propelled out of a cannon.  I was across the room and at the door when I spotted Bug-A-Boo, my grandchildren’s ferret. 

Apparently, Bug-A-Boo was feeling his oats as he threw all four legs out like a scared cat, sprang from the floor,  his body making this funny U shape, and took off like his tail was on fire.  Out the door he flew.  Apparently, one of the kids had not completely fastened his cage door when they were visiting him (Yes, LeAnna has moved on but the critters are still here because she does not have a place to keep them…… BUMMER!) 

GREAT!  Now I had to search the house for a ferret who could be almost anywhere in this 9 room house.  This part of the event took a few minutes.  I was on  my hand and knees looking under my Dad's bed,  sweetly calling, “Bug-A-Boo, Bug-a-Boo, here, Bug-a-Boo,” when something pounced on my rear.  Since I was concentrating on Bug-a-Boo I let out a yelp for the second time in 3 minutes.  Even though it seems impossible, I levitated with all of my body off the floor at the same time like someone in a Chris Angle stage show.  It was Toby who had decided to enter the fray.

Seeing Toby, the ferret went up onto its back legs and clunked his head on one of the slats, coiled it‘s body onto itself and lunged out from under my dad's bed.  He loped in that weird way that ferrets do where their back legs catch up to the front legs and take on the look of an inchworm on speed.  But, Bug-a-Boo’s back legs not only caught up with his front legs, they passed them.  This caused him to do a funny flip and roll.  I was impressed because he continued at break neck speed to the back of the house with Toby fast on his heels.  I was right behind Toby (Ok, lagging a bit) and we took on the appearance of a strange, fast moving, circus parade (obviously, I was the clown).

When I arrived at the door of the guest bedroom, Bug-a-Boo was under that bed and Toby was half under the bed with his behind in the air.  Just as I arrived a frightened kitten (Yes, LeAnna added another pet to her menagerie) ran from under the bed and up my pants leg to my chest.  Her sharp little claws laying down tracks as she ran up me like a tree.  Reaching my shoulders she sprang for the top of a recliner, bounced off it, and disappeared into the kitchen.  Of course, I uttered yelp number 3 at the surprise and YELP numbers 4 and 5 at the tracks being laid down on my body.

Toby was so excited he didn’t know which animal to pursue so he kept looking back and forth from the bedroom to the kitchen.  Finally, he decided that the kitten was going to be his new target so off he went.  I managed to get Bug-a-Boo out from under the bed, toss him in his cage, and slam home the door.  Then I took off for the crashing sounds coming from the front room.

When I reached the front room a recliner was over turned (apparently when the kitten jumped to the back and Toby hit it in hot pursuit).   Several pictures on various tables were knocked over, the kitten had climbed Kit's cat tree to the very top, and laid there calmly looking down at Toby.   Toby was in a recliner by the cat tree barking, and wagging his tail and butt (always a tandem act) in celebration of a jolly good time.   Grabbing Toby, I slapped the leash on him and led him out the back door.  As I passed through the den I looked up to the mouse enclosure half expecting one of them to pounce on me as I passed by.  Thank God they were all in their terrarium merrily running to nowhere on their wheel (come to think of it... ...
it seems to me that this was exactly what I was doing for the past 5 to 6 minutes).

Once I got Toby outside I collected the kitten, deposited her in the den, closed the door, went to the front room, righted the recliner/pictures, and sat down to catch my breath.  It was at that moment that the front door burst open with a bang and my two youngest great grand children entered the house clamoring like a troop of crazed monkeys.

Having used up my allotment of startle reflexes I just sat there wondering if Tequila was a possible answer to my problems.

 kt 7/2011

SEE YOU NEXT MONDAY FOR...... #205 - "A LETTER TO SHAY AND LOGAN"
  BE SURE TO WRITE THE 8/29 ON YOU CALENDAR FOR MY FAVORITE STORY.   

P. S.  Since I wrote this Leanna, kids, and menagerie have moved on.

ANOTHER P.S. TO FISHDUCKEY:

ABOUT YOUR BRAIN, I FOUND IT!  THAT STUPID GOAT ATE IT AND THEN WOOFED IT UP LATER ON MELYNDA'S LAWN.  IT MAY NEED A GOOD WASHING BUT IT SHOULD BE GOOD TO GO.

For those of you who think I have gone around the bend you need to read

Deer Me and Crazy Challenge (particularly the answer to #9 and fishducky's comment).

# - SOUNDS, THE MUSIC OF LIFE

DISCLAMER:  IF YOU HAVE LOGGED ON TO THIS PAGE EXPECTING TO LAUGH I NEED TO LET YOU KNOW THAT I AM TRYING MY HAND AT JUST WRITING ABOUT ORDINARY THINGS (WHICH EXCLUDES ANYTHING I USUALLY GET INVOLVED WITH). 

I have had to push this piece over several times to make room for something else that popped up so this is no longer current.  We have had around 30 days of 100 degree + weather and I haven't had my windows open since a day or two after I wrote this.  Not only that but my granddaughter, her children (and her critters) are no longer living with me.  But, it is my first attempt at just being serious.

It's a beautiful sun shiny day and as I sit here composing at my computer I pause to take in the clamor of sounds that are emanating from all around me.  The first sound that grabs my attention is the sound of my dog, Toby, as he grunts and huffs while trying to dig a hole to China through his blanket,

Of course, he stopped digging the minute I picked up the camera!

From outside my raised window I hear the twitter and chirps of a variety of birds going about their business in our hugh back yard.  In the background, I can hear the relentless hammering and sawing of a handy-man replacing damaged siding on the house.  From the kitchen the sounds of my grandson, Gene, teasing, joking, and laughter with friends as they play Yu-gi-oh.  Filtering in from the back of the house is the television blaring some kind of children's cartoon.  Accompanying all of this are and the squeals, yelps, and screams of my great grandsons (ages 4 and 5) as they play and squabble with one another.  Blended in with all of this are the occasional snorts and snores of my dad who is sleeping in his recliner in the front room.

Maybe I should I will help Toby dig his hole to China and escape the din.  But, you, know, it isn't half bad hearing life being lived.  There was a time when this house was brimming over with all kinds of relatives and kids and the sounds that accompanied their visits.  Most of those relatives are gone now and their kids have disbursed throughout the United States and have kids (and grand kids) of their own.  I have lost contact with most of them as it was my parent's brothers and sisters, my aunts and uncles who got us all together from time to time.

Do we all look back and miss those days, whenever or whatever THOSE DAYS were?  I can remember groaning when Mom told me we had to go to Aunt Marjorie's (or whomever's) house for a family dinner.  None of us cousins were particularly close and it seemed like such a horrible idea.  But, for some reason, now, when I look back, I remember those times with fondness.

Well, my neighbor on the east just joined in on the din.  He is apparently sanding something metal because it is making a terrible grinding noise.  To the west my other neighbor is mowing his yard and all of this noise is becoming a cacophony of sounds that is part of the music that is life.  All of us doing what we need to do in order to complete the daily requirements of upkeep on a home, and family responsibilities.

Perhaps this is a melody that is actually the song of life.  The final note, added by me, a sigh... ... ...

       

kt 5/7/2011

# 176-TOTALLY TUBULAR TOBY'S SCRAPBOOK

THIS IS A SHORT POST TO TRY OUT MY NEW TOY....I found this ap. on

News /From Italy

If you want to take a trip to Italy (for free) then go visit this gal.  She has more than one blog.

I hope I got it right.  It is much easier that the music box I tried back in February (and we all know how that went).  


4/20/22......Well, I just received my first comment on this and.......Mannnnnnnnn, Craziness abounds could not open it.  That figures...C.R.A.P. is at it again! (Computer Related Attacks by Poltergeists)
I am going to try to load it up again........

A friend of mine (Dessiree) just lost a doggie friend of hers (Romeo).  Please visit the following site and view Romeo's wish.  And if you can,  help out somewhere!                                                        The Squashed Tomato

This scrapbook design personalized with Smilebox

#152-TOTALLY TUBULARY TUESDAY(Toby)

Uhhhh, Hi.  My name is Totally Tubular Toby; you can call me Toby.  I think I'm a people, but my mom keeps calling me "her baby".  Is a "her baby" people?  Her father calls me "that dog."  When I make mistakes she calls me other names (but I don't think I should tell you).  This world is so hard to understand.


Today I have a very scary and confusing story to tell you.

You'd look sad too if you went through what I just went through!

The other morning my mom had a very serious look on her face.  She held me and hugged me, but I just squirmed and chewed on her shirt sleeve because I didn't want any of her gushy, gooey, lovey, dovey, stuff that early in the morning.


Mornings are for romping, chasing the cat, getting into as much trouble as possible, and eating.  This is when I knew something was up.  Mom wasn't fixing my food.  PANIC ATTACK!  WHY ISN'T MOM FIXING FOOD?  I tried to tell her my fear as I cried, "WHERE IS MY FOOD?  MOM, YOU KNOW HOW I LIKE FOOD!  I NEED FOOD, NOW!"  She ignored me (well, she tried anyway, I'm kinda hard to ignore when I hangin' onto her pant leg with my teeth).


Finally, she got my blanky out of that darned kennel, picked me up and headed for the "ride" (STILL NO FOOD!).  We got into the "ride" and went to the place of smells.  It is a place that stinks of a lot of different kinds of animals along with a yucky smell that I can't quite put my nose to (not that I'd want to. Well, maybe).  


I remember being there before and, as I recall, I was poked and prodded and then felt a sharp pain in my neck.  Mom just stood in the corner and kept saying, "You're ok, you're ok."  Well, if having something shoved up your you know what is ok then I'd hate to see what she thinks is NOT ok.


Back to the other day.  We rode in the "ride" until we got to the place of smells.
Mom handed me over to a complete stranger (along with my blanky) and walked away...are you reading this SHE WALKED AWAY!  A COMPLETE STRANGER!  I set up such a howl that it made her stop for a second, then she went on out the door.  I screamed and accidentally went potty on the lady.


My blanky and I were put into this kennel (without a treat, Mom always give me a treat when she puts me in one at home...THAT DOES IT!  NO FOOD!  NO TREAT!  I'M IN HELL!) and there I sat along with a few other unfortunates.  Each one of them was as confused as I was.  I tried to talk to them but they weren't interested.  This one "baby" looked really sad.  He said he thought he was in here because he pottied on his mom's best rug.  (OMG it that why I'm here?  It's all your fault Heathcliff!  You're the one who told me I could do it!  Growl!)

I didn't mean to...honest!

The lady came back in and took me to a room of even more awful smells and that is the last I remember until I woke up.   My head felt strange and so did my lower body.  They had a thing around my neck to keep me from checking out why I felt funny down there.  In fact it took me a while to figure out why I couldn't see if my feet and tail were still there (Could I survive with just a head?  Sure, as long as I could eat...eat?...suddenly I didn't care about food...weird, huh?).

Mom finally came to pick me up (PHEW!) and I pottied all over the lady again as she handed me off (on purpose, take that, lady!).   Mom wrapped me in my blanky and took me to the "ride."  That is when I got more of the  gushy, gooey, lovey, dovey, stuff.   And, boy did I want it this time.  When we got back to my home Mom and I cuddled and slept the rest of the afternoon.  For some reason I suddenly liked the gushy, gooey, lovey, dovey, stuff.

I still don't know what happened, but I think my bark is higher that it used to be and there is less to lick than before.  Heathcliff seemed to know where I was going.  Mom told HIM, but not me!  By the way, Heathcliff, thanks for the note.  I AM milking it for all it's worth.

Toby

kt 2011

#138-TOTALLY TUBULAR TUESDAYS (TOBYISMS)

(A reminder the giveaway ends on February 28th at midnight - see #117 on 2/1 for details)


Today I have a guest blogger and I will let him introduce himself:

Uhhhh, Hi.  My name is Totally Tubular Toby;call me Toby.   I have come up with these rules that SHE calls  TOBYISMS.  SHE thinks that SHE'S in charge, but, I'm a smart pup (see, I already know English) so, I knew I had to lay down the law right from the start (if I want this gig to work out in my favor).

First of all, anything on the floor is mine (including that upity cat!)

Chewing is in the "Puppy Bill of Rights." (Get used to it!)

Looking pitiful is all I have to do to get help 
(well, I sometimes have to add a small whimper).

TV is evil!  I WILL destroy the TV power cord because of that darned Dog Whisperer (he's a total control freek and I wanna do what I wanna do).  Also, I find the "eh-eh" and poke in the side really annoying.  

HELP!  
I am frequently held captive while SHE goes to lunch!
Isn't that about the meanest thing you have ever heard of?
Not only that, today, SHE stopped to take a picture of me in my misery!
I'm suing!  

When she yells T O B Y ! ... ...
the best thing to do is to throw myself on the floor (belly up)
and surrender immediately!  (You're smiling aren't you?  See it works!)

I WILL NOT WEAR THIS #$%! COAT!  SHE CAN'T MAKE ME!

Grab the end of a toilet paper roll, DAILY, and run like hell!  She'll yell, but don't surrended until the roll runs out.  It is worth it to watch her struggle to keep from laughing. 

(NOTE: Actually he's thinking, "What's with you!  Are you nuts?  First I get in major trouble for messing with this stuff, then you give me a wad of it so you can take a picture for your blog. I don't get it!)

 

And, finally, if it is too cold to pee outside, it doesn't make sense to waist a perfectly good rug (like this one)!

(Toby is also featured on post #131)  kt 2/2011


So I could enter a blog hop I just added the following:
1. Have any animals?  Yep...Toby and a cat named Kit  
2. Favorite animal?  Tigers 
3. If you could have any animal, what would it be?  Horse
4. Pet any weird animals?  Wierd, no.  Fun, yes (a dolphin)
5. Ever been to a drive through safari? Yes, A female lion came right up to our window.
6. What zoos have you been to, what is your favorite one? So many I can't begin to list them but the favorite by far was the San Diego Zoo.

#131-TOTALLY TUBULAR TUESDAY (MY TOBY)

This blog is about my (not so new any more) puppy TOTALLY TUBULAR TOBY.  I promised to tell you why Toby, has been banned from the bathrooms in my house.  However, I can't begin to explain, in words, what this picture shows:

This little squirt has decided that toilet paper rolls are "the bomb."  One day I was in the den when I heard a funny thrumming sound.  I turned in time to see Toby sprinting though the kitchen with the end of the toilet paper roll in his mouth.  He was running like a bat out of hell,his ears were flying, and his toenails were clicking on the floor.  The unusually strong TP just reeled on out.   I hollered 'TOBY, NO!" But, he flew into the front room still clutching his prize.  By the time I caught him the entire roll had been strung throughout the kitchen and front room.  I couldn't find my camera, but as luck (if you want to call it that) would have it he did it again.  Only, this time I thought to stop the unraveling before the whole role was exhausted, grabbed my camera, and caught the little bugger making confetti out of his new toy.  While I was taking the picture he abandoned his prize and headed back into the bathroom to grab the end of what was left and he took off again.  I was not about to let him continue with his new game so I started keeping the doors shut to the bathrooms.

That worked until my grandson came by and used the restroom.  As I heard him leave I yelled from the front room, "Be sure and close..." but, before I could finish my sentence I heard the thrumming noise and then saw Toby busting around the corner headed to the front room.  I swear he was smiling!  When he saw me he screeched to an abrupt halt, then bolted to the right and into the hall.  And, there went another roll of TP.  Now, I have to keep the rolls up on the sink.  Hopefully he will out grow this game soon.  However, I notice he still checks the empty spindle frequently, then looks up at me as if to say, "killjoy!"

But that is not the end of the TP saga.  My son came by and while he was here used the restroom.  Being a nice helpful guy he took the roll from the sink and installed it on the spindle.  I didn't realize what had happened until I heard the thrummmmmmmmm  and another roll bit the dust.  Now, I have EVERYONE on full alert.  Toby is a force to be reckoned with!

Toby, helps me with a lot of things like:......

........checking for boogie men under my bed......

..........cleaning up for me while he is under there......

.........he helps me make my bed......

..........helps me get undressed..........

..........fetches my clothes..........

..........picks up the trash..........

......and would help dry the dishes if he could get that dang hand towel down.....

..........keeps me company when I'm blogging..........

..........and lets me know when it is time to stop..........

He is already well trained because he will do ANYTHING for food.  He will come when I say, "Toby, come!"  He will sit when I say, "Toby, sit!" Right now we are working on, "Toby, stay!"  See:

Awh, mannnnn, where'd he go?   "Toby, come!"

(By the way, the above is my "Runaway Rug."  See #97 to if you don't know what I am talking about). 

Next Tuesday will feature Toby and some of his TOBYISMS.

kt2011

#110-TOTALLY TUBULAR TUESDAYS

I have decided to try another new idea.  Every Tuesday I am going to post something current.  Usually I edit a piece to death before it gets posted.  Honestly it takes from 3 weeks to two months for me to get a piece from first draft to posted.  There are several reasons for this (I am, also, going to give bullets a try while I explain).  


By the way, my grandson tells me that tubular (although not used much any more) means awesome.

1. I am very insecure about posting my writing.  Really, I can't see why anyone but my daughter would want to read my stuff.  She thinks I'm great (but she's supposed to). My grandson thinks I'm funny (but he is now 15 and likes my car).
2. I'm always afraid that someday I will check comments and see NOTHING! or worse yet see a really mean comment.
3. I am a techno-idiot.  Right now I can't even believe that the number 2 came up where it is supposed to.  For example, I have been blogging since July 2010 and I just recently learned how to post a button (took me 2 months) I frequently loose entire posts into the C.R.A.P. never-never land (see blogs 48 and 58 if you want to understand that comment).  I have one blog that keeps posting itself even though it is not scheduled to go on until 2/3.
4. Most of my posts are scheduled at least three weeks away from the day I post them.  I seem to stress over something coming up that would cause me to miss a day.
5. (Woooo Hoooo the 4 showed up!)  I worry about things to say or that things I say aren't interesting to others.  I worry that something I said might offend someone.
6. And, the biggest thing is probably that I am thin skinned, and I am easily hurt.
7. Another, point is that I CAN'T SHUT UP once I get started.  I have been known to sit here for hours and hours just typing away on pages and pages.  It is very difficult for me to cull out the unnecessary. Case in point...I am already on #7 and headed for #8 borrrrrrrring!

To make it easy on myself I am going to tell you about my new puppy.  

On December 28th my dad and I were on our way back from our usual gourmet meal at McDonald's (an entire story on its own) and I watched a customer walking her dog on McDonald's beautifully manicured lawn (they must love that).  I remember sighing and saying to my dad (who can't hear a thing I say, and likes it that way),  "Luke (see #104) has been gone for six years.  I really miss having a dog."   

As we headed down the road toward home I sighed and said, "God, I want a puppy to love!"  About 50 yards further down the road sat a nice car with a travel kennel beside it.  In that kennel were two adorable spotted Cocker Spaniels (Thank you God!). I threw on the breaks, swerved into the Orchlein's parking lot, in and out of a pot hole, jumped out of my car, and started inquiring about the puppies.  I had heard of this lady's kennel (a local one) so I knew it was reputable.   I was watching the two little males wrestling.  When she told me that they were AKC registered my heart hit the pavement so hard it popped another pot hole.  I knew I couldn't afford to buy a registered Cocker.  But, then she said, the magic words, "THEY ARE ON SALE!" I immediately replied, "I'll take the one on top." 

We took care of business and then I stuffed the now trembling little guy (2 months old) in my coat and headed home.  It was love at first sight (love that only diminished slightly when I put him in my cat kennel for the night).  I had to sleep on the floor with my fingers through the wire door to get his plaintiff cry down to a whimper.  Nothing else seemed to soothe him.  Have you ever smelled puppy breath?  I really don't know how to describe it but it is sweeter than alfalfa after a summer rain. I fell asleep happy.  He fell asleep only to wake up every 2-3 hours to go potty.  We continued that routine for about 4 days.

I struggled for days trying to come up with a name.  Friends, children and grandchildren all tried a hand at it.  Each day I tried on a new name only to find out it wasn't going to stick.  One day, my grandson said, "That dog is going to be permanently scarred if you don't come  up with a name soon."   Then, suddenly, one name lasted into the second day.  Toby, his name is Toby. (However, by the time he got this name he actually thought his name was "you little $#!!" because he was getting into so much trouble.)

When I registered him I needed more than one name so he became Totally Tubular Toby!  And here's his picture:

Sorry, couldn't resist it!


Here is Toby:

Toby is a real card and I have already figured out that he is smarter than me. My training started the minute he snuggled into my coat.   I will be writing about his antics and believe me they are classic puppy antics.  He makes me laugh several times an hour.  he will be three months old on the 28th of this month (that means that he is in his terrible twos).
Next Tuesday, maybe I will tell you why he is BANNED from the bathroom!  Nope can't, that is when the giveaway my daughter is sponsering for me willbe announced.  The following Tuesday then.  Nope, that will be my dad's 100th birthday blog.  Ok, ok gotta rearrange some things.  I'll get back to you.
kt 1/21/2010