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If you want a human to pet you, just put your paw on the human’s leg, arm, face, whatever, and look your most innocent and sweetest self at him (or her, as the case may be). If he doesn’t pet you, just nudge him with your paw again; gets ‘em every time. He will pet you and love on you, and tell you the things you want to hear in his most loving voice. And most likely, and most importantly, he will give you a treat just for letting him pet you. Humans love it; they just don’t know they’ve been had.

There are other things I can help you with when it comes to human behavior. I never know when the urge will strike me to write about them, but it won’t be long I’m sure. Until then, farewell my friends.

My mom really has me worried. She is sick again today. I know it can’t be the flu, because she had the shot. She tells me it is her stomach, and drinking Coca Cola doesn’t seem to help. Eating saltine crackers aren’t helping her either; I like them, though. Whatever mom eats, she gives me some of it.

She tried to eat last night, but couldn’t. I think it must be that new medicine the doctor prescibed for her. I heard her tell dad that she was going to call the doctor on Monday and explain what is happening to her. I sure hope whatever it is gets fixed; mom doesn’t want to do anything. And when mom doesn’t even want to pet me, something is definitely wrong.

Talk to ya later!

I'm waiting for someone to bring me my dinner

This is Kasha, the third from the top in the pecking order. You can guess who’s last–yep, you’re right–me. But that’s okay, I still can get whatever I want whenever I want it.

At any rate, Kasha is a German Shepherd, and she is real nice to me most of the time. She will go outside and play with me when it’s nice and warm like it is today. It’s 80 degrees! Can you believe it? This is January–it’s not supposed to be that warm, but I sure am glad it is. We played with an old stick today, because she can’t take her ball outside if it’s just us. She has racquetballs, and if no one is watching, she will pop them. She has powerful jaws; probably because she believes she is a wolf. You know, wolves have strong jaws; so, therefore, if she thinks she is a wolf, she also thinks she has to have strong jaws. And, in order for her to have strong jaws, she thinks she has to go around and try to bite and break everything, especially her balls. Me, I’d rather play with them instead. This is probably the reason I have more toys than she does.

Back to the stick! I don’t mind playing with a make-do toy, especially if it’s a stick. If I find a really long one, Kasha and I can play tug-of-war with it. Hey, it breaks up the monotony, and you don’t have to run a lot. Kasha has hurt one of her legs, and she can’t run very well, so we just played other things today. She can’t jump upon the bed, either; she has to be helped. She can jump down okay, though.

Dad is so unhappy and sad. OU lost to Florida tonight, and it broke his heart. A minute after the game was over, dad went to bed. Wooly went with him; I think Wooly knew something was wrong. This is the fourth time Stoops has been to a title game in as many trips, and he lost again. I believe it is because those coaches will not let the players play like they do in the regular season; they are way too conservative. I should say that Kevin Wilson is way too conservative. The reason I say that is because the boys play their hearts out only to be given bad plays.

Mom was sick all day today, but she got up to watch the game with dad. She is just as unhappy as he is. She wanted OU to win as much as dad did, but it just didn’t happen. She tried to cheer dad up in the 60 seconds or so she had before he went to bed, but there is no cheering him tonight and not for many nights to come.

I am going to have cut this short tonight, because mom needs to go back to bed; I sure hope she feels better tomorrow.

Well, dad is all excited–again. When we won the Big 12 Championship, he was only excited on the day of the game. And he wears his new Sooners Big 12 Champion baseball hat all the time, especially when he goes out in public. Today is the day before the FedEx BCS Championship game; maybe he doesn’t understand that, or maybe he does, and he’s excited anyway.

#1 Oklahoma vs. #2 Florida on January 8, 2009 at 7:00 p.m. Dad must think everyone in the country is just waiting until tomorrow night for the big game. He could be right, but I doubt it. I know the Texas Longhorns hope we lose, and I know the Florida Gators hope we lose. Since I have to live in the same house with dad and mom, I sure hope OU wins.

If OU wins, dad is going to be happy until the next time OU is playing. He will have bragging rights in front of all his Texas buddies, and they will have to suffer through it. On the other hand, if OU loses, he will pout until the next time OU plays. He will be the one to have to suffer through all of his Texas buddies’ comments like “OU shouldn’t been in that game anyway.” Boy, we are all tired of hearing that. That decision was made by a computer–wake up, guys, a computer has no feelings, it doesn’t care who comes out on top. It’s just binary numbers to a computer. Can you compute that?

For those of you who don’t care about the game, do you know what January 8 means to a lot of other people? In case you don’t know, it is Elvis Presley’s birthday. He was born in 1935, and that was a great day for America, rock and roll, and the millions of fans he still has. So, Elvis fans, if you don’t care about the game, I know you will be remembering him.

This is where Wooly stays--right by dad at all times.

This is the cranky Wooly that I am always telling you about. He stays by dad all the time. In this picture, dad had just come home from the hospital, and Wooly stuck to him like glue. But, this is nothing new, Wooly always does that.

He seems to think dad is his personal human. As long as he is by dad, he thinks he can get away with anything–he growls, barks, snarls, and tries to bite anyone that comes close, except for mom, that is. If he bit mom, he would be spending the night away from dad, and Wooly wouldn’t want that under any circumstances. If dad and mom aren’t around, he stays under their bed. He won’t come out until everyone in the house is asleep, and then he will sneak out and get a drink of water or eat some of his food that is in his bowl. I swear, if he didn’t have to go outside once in a while and relieve himself, he would stay under that bed until mom and dad got back. Now, that’s just silly. No one is going to hurt him, although I have thought about it from time to time.

I would even think about hurting him if he weren’t so smug. Apparently, he thinks the rules don’t apply to him. Mom says she knows people like that, too, so I guess dogs aren’t the only ones who think they’re better than someone else. I do have to admit, though, that Wooly has gone through some pretty bad times.

You know, or maybe you don’t, that mom found Wooly in the middle of the road cuddled up in his dead mother’s arms on her way home from work one day. Mom stopped her car to move the body from the middle of the road to the side where people wouldn’t run over it. When she shifted the body to get a better grip, she saw Wooly–only he wasn’t named that at the time. She brought him home and showed dad what she had found. Dad held him, petted him, talked to him, and told him he didn’t have to be afraid of anything anymore. That was the beginning of Wooly’s love of dad. It was too late to take him to the vet that day, so mom took the next day off from work to take him in.

Dr. Eitelman said Wooly was about four weeks old, so mom had to give him special milk for about three weeks. Mom said she had to be very careful with Wooly because he was so tiny. And, I am positive, that is the reason Wooly is such a pain. He got used to being pampered, and he hasn’t gotten over it yet. He thinks he is Special.

But, then, mom says we are all special in our own way.

It is awful outside today; it’s 34 degrees, the wind is blowing so it feels like 24, and it’s raining. Can you imagine a worse day? Mom says she can but doesn’t explain. I feel like playing, but can’t go outside!!!

I went outside early this morning, but I instantly regretted it. I didn’t stay very long and neither did the others. Mom wouldn’t go out at all; she just stood at the door and watched the rest of us shiver as we did what we had to do. I hate it when humans watch.

I have tried to nap most of the day, but a girl can sleep only so much. Trust me, I have slept more than usual. Besides, sleeping is boring. And boring is something I am NOT.

I tried playing ball with mom in the hall. The hall is long enough, but when I tried chasing the ball down, I kept running into the walls or the door at the other end of the hall. Running into a wall or door is not exactly my forte. Besides, when you run as hard and fast as I do, it doesn’t feel good when you hit a non-moving hard object, especially if it’s made of oak. You should try it sometime if you think I’m kidding.

Wooly is in the computer room with dad, which is where he stays all the time as long as dad is down there. Hilde is asleep on mom’s bed–she doesn’t mind being boring. Kasha is lying on Paul’s bed and looking out the window to see if she can spot that goat that just wanders around out here. If she sees it, she will start barking, Hilde will join in; they will want to go outside and bark at it face-to-face, and I do not want to go outside. Well, I guess it would be better than sleeping or annoying mom. I keep wanting her to pet me, but she’s too busy on the computer. I just don’t understand the fascination humans have with computers.

She was very interested in Animal Planet and watched it whenever she could.

Katy is a Golden Retriever. I say “is” because she will never die in my heart. She was the most wonderful, playful, lovable, and forgiving dog I have ever had the pleasure of being around.

She would do anything I wanted to do whether it was to take a nap on mom’s bed or go outside and watch the cars and trucks go up and down the road outside our fence.

When we were on mom’s bed, she would snuggle up to me (just barely touching some part of me) to reassure me that I wasn’t alone anymore. When I showed up at mom’s back door one cold and rainy November afternoon, Katy was the one who welcomed me into the family. She just walked right up to me and kissed me on the head. She had no way of really knowing that some human had thrown me away and left me alone on a country road to fend for myself. I guess that Whoever watches out for helpless creatures led me to mom’s door and Katy.

And play–Katy loved to play ball, and I learned to love it, too, with Katy’s help. We would go out in our front yard; Katy would run up by the road and drop her ball. Eventually, I learned to run very fast pretending I was going to get the ball and run away with it. I would get almost up to the ball, and then Katy would grab it and run someplace else in the yard far away from where she was and then drop it again. I would wait a few seconds and start charging towards her; she would pick it up again and run and drop it somewhere else. Our game would last until I decided not to play anymore; Katy would never be the first one to quit.

Lovable has to be a word invented especially for Katy. She never growled (unlike Wooly), was never belligerent (like Hilde), selfish (like Kasha), or jealous (like me). Just the look on Katy’s face would make anyone want to pet her, dote on her, and eventually love her more than anyone else. She had such gorgeous hair; mom would comb and brush it until it actually gleamed. Katy loved to be brushed, too. I never was jealous of her or the attention she got. I guess it was because she was never jealous of me.

Forgiving has to another word invented just for Katy. She never held a grudge against anyone or any human. Sometimes Wooly would growl at her, and Katy would just lie down next to him–kinda like a lamb lying next to a lion. Soon, Wooly would get over whatever he had growled at her for doing in the first place. Katy was the same with Hilde and Kasha, too. Whatever they would do, Katy would just lie close by until they got over it. And, I believe, Katy was the reason there was always an air of love and forgiveness in our house. I learned a lot from her. I miss her.

If anyone comes close to her chair, she gives them the look you see.

Hilde is a Great Dane, and she is big. She weighs 165 pounds, and the only one she defers to is mom. If anyone else tries to make her do anything, she just stares at them. You should see her, though, when she wants something. She is such a troublemaker. If she wants a bone, then she wants it right now, no matter what mom or dad is doing. If one of them doesn’t do her bidding immediately, she cavorts around making a nuisance of herself–barking and pawing at the couch, chair, or me if I’m close at hand. One of the worst things she does is stand in front of the television until she gets her way. If mom makes her move, she just leaves for a second and then stands in front of it again. Most of the time, she gets her way; partly because mom pampers her and partly because dad loves her so good. Although I hate to admit it, I really love her; I just don’t want her to know it, because it would make her feel too good. She has a big enough head already.

Hello my fans. With a little help from mom, I finally got a picture of me up and running. Now you can see who has been doing all of this writing, musing, popping off, and in general just telling you about my family. It took mom a little while to figure out how to get this picture of ME so everyone else could see how adorable I really am. I hope you will leave me a favorable comment, because mom really frowns on sarcastic and mean words.

This a picture of me showing my displeasure at a decision made without asking me.