Cooper’s 13th Birthday

Sergei — Fri, 19 Mar 2010 04:47:00 +0000

“Even More Perfect After All These Years” is what mom calls the post on her blog about Cooper’s 13th birthday.

Whatever.

Everybody knows that it takes fluff to be perfect, but I guess Cooper is as perfect as a non-fluffy dog can be. And he is 13 years old now, so you should probably go read mom’s blog post about him – after all, there are pictures of me in it. But just in case those old pictures aren’t enough for you, here are some new ones:

The perfect fluffiness that is me.

Here are some pictures of my athletic prowess. First, a couple of my elegant leapiness:

The launch

The landing

A couple of artsy action shots:

Fluff on the Run I

Fluff on the Run II

And a silly, funky dance step:

Cha-cha-cha!

Leaping for a high-flying stuffie

I caught the stuffie!

It's time for the stuffie-catcher victory lap

The final dash for home

Bedtime for the fluff...

What are you still doing here? Go read about Cooper.

–Sergei

A Confession

Sergei — Fri, 25 Dec 2009 04:41:13 +0000

I have a bit of a confession to make. Unless you’ve read the “About Me” page really carefully, you probably don’t know this, but… I live with a cat. That’s right, a CAT. Her name is Ashley.

The “About Me” page says, Oh, and there’s a cat, but she’s not very nice. She hisses at me when I get too close. That was written when I first moved in. I’m happy to report that the hissing has stopped, and she even lets me sniff her now. Heck, she almost seems to like me.

Mom says that I'm Ashley's favorite dog. See? No hissing.

What's up, pussycat?

As you can see by the pictures of me and Ashley, she’s a giant cat, weighing in at close to 6.5 pounds, so you can understand why I’m a bit timid around her, and why I’m kinda scared of her hissing.

What do you mean, “6.5 pounds isn’t very big”? She has claws, too, you know!

And just look at those teeth!

Okay, I’m not really scared of Ashley; I’m just respectful of her. After all, she’s a tripod* like Peaches the boss lady, and if Peaches has taught me nothing else, she’s taught me to respect the tripod.

(*Ashley lost a rear leg to fibrosarcoma over ten years ago. It affects her about as much as it does Peaches, which is to say not at all.)

Ashley says, "That's right, dog. Respect me!"

It may be hard for some people to believe, but Ashley is 20 years old. That’s right – two decades! Dad likes to say, “If only the good die young, Ashley is immortal.” Mom calls her a three-legged demon in a cat suit.

Ashley's demonic kitty smile

She may be a demon, but she’s a really lazy one – she’s even lazier than the Greyhounds. Then again, I guess I’d be really lazy if I were twenty years old.

This is what Ashley does 99% of the time.

So, I confess, I admit it, I’m out of the closet – I live with a cat. And I even think she’s pretty cool.

"Darn right, I'm pretty cool. I'm a CAT."

Happy holidays!

–Sergei

Mija 2009

Sergei — Thu, 17 Dec 2009 01:30:45 +0000

This past summer, Mija stayed with us a couple of times. (You can read about her previous visits here, here, and here.) Mom didn’t take a lot of pictures while Mija was here, but she did manage to catch some of our antics, so I’ll use what she was able to get.

I really like it when Mija comes because it shows Mom that I’m not as “active” as she seems to think. Mija just goes and goes and goes…and GOES. She wears me out, so sometimes I just lie around and watch her play.

Mija playing with the giant green spider.

Gnaw, gnaw, gnaw on the spider.

Kill that spider, Mija!

Of course, I can only watch her play for so long before I must get involved. So…I swiped the spider from her.

Ha-ha! I've got the spider now!

So Mija grabbed the yellow gorilla.

Hmmm...I was sort of hoping we could play together.

THAT'S better! Grrrrrr! You'll NEVER get the spider...

...but I'll get YOU!

Or not. Don't you want to play?

How about I show you how to do the Stuffie Dance, Mija?

First, you gotta find a stuffie to dance with.

Once you've got the stuffie you like, pick it up...

...and SWING your STUFFIE!

I don’t think Mija was really into stuffie dancing. Oh well.

Here's Mija in the family room playing with another stuffie while me and the Greyhounds look on.

Me, Captain Jack, and Peaches contemplate getting involved.

A three-way showdown: Me, Mija, and Jack.

Jack and I might be lots bigger than Mija, but that doesn't stop her from taking the initiative.

Alas, those are all the pictures Mom got during Mija’s visits this summer, but I know she has lots of great pictures of moi for later posts. Look for them soon…I hope.

–Sergei

Happy Birthday, Peaches!

Sergei — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 15:47:49 +0000

Mom has promised that she’ll get a new post (about me and Mija) typed up really soon – she even has pictures ready for it, and lots more ready to process for future posts – but for now you’re going to have to settle for this little blurb about the boss lady, Peaches.

Today, December 4, 2009, is Peaches’ 13th birthday. Like last year, Mom blogged about it. Go read the blog and look at the pictures (after all, there are some of me). In the meantime, I’m getting ready to bite Mom if she doesn’t get a new post up for me ASAP.

Here’s a picture from the post she’s promised to type up for me soon:

Me, Mija, and Captain Jack playing

I’ll talk to you real soon (or Mom is gonna get it)!

–Sergei

P.S. BJ is doing fine since her reaction to her heartworm meds; she’s blind in her right eye now, but she got used to that really fast.

Las Vegas Renaissance Faire 2009

Sergei — Thu, 22 Oct 2009 01:19:11 +0000

So, here we go – three fun days in Las Vegas for the 2009 Age of Chivalry Renaissance Festival. I think the pictures pretty much speak for themselves.

Love for me!

The real reason I love to go to Renaissance Faires - FOOD!

Taking JT for a walk.

Ear scritches...nice.

How can anyone resist petting this cutey?

Mmmmm...more ear scritches.

Yes, I know I'm beautiful.

Who ya gonna pet, me or Jack?

I love my Captain Jack!

Oh yeah. That's the spot.

No, really, you can pet me harder than that. I won't break.

Me and Mom and Ghillie the Galgo!

Lucky Jack's not here, otherwise he'd be beggin' for beer!

Me and my Greyhound pack: Peaches, Captain Jack, and Cooper. I'm not sure where BJ was hiding, but it was dinner time so I'm sure she wasn't too far.

Look at this: The kids are lining up for a chance to pet my wonderfulness!

Again: The real reason I like to go to faire. That's a boar leg hanging over the fire. Yum!

So, there you have it: Las Vegas 2009.

We’ll be heading off to Las Cruces, New Mexico, in a few weeks, and I should have some pictures from there too. (Sadly, we won’t be going to Las Cruces after all. On Friday, 10/30, BJ had a bad reaction to her monthly heartworm preventative so we’ll be staying home to take care of her instead.) I have some pictures from a visit by Mija (the naked dog) earlier this summer that I also hope Mom will get to soon. I’ll try to pester her some more.

Until then,
–Sergei

I Promise…

Sergei — Tue, 13 Oct 2009 02:27:05 +0000

…to put up a new post soon – even if I have to bite Mom to make her type it for me. Don’t worry, I won’t bite her hands; she needs those to type with.

I just pointed out to her that it’s been almost four months since she last took dictation from me, and that’s FAR too long. Her response was that she started working on a post for me a couple of weeks ago, but got distracted. Pfft!

Well, since we all just got back from the Las Vegas Renaissance Faire (LVRF), I’ve got a lot of stuff to show and tell, so she’s going to do sit down at the computer and do as I say very soon…or else.

For now, you can go back and read my 2008 LVRF posts here and here. Hopefully, that will hold you over until Mom gets to work.

Oh, and here’s a picture of me from the 2009 LVRF. Consider it a preview of more wonderful stuff to come…

Huggles for me!

–Sergei

My Brush With Death

Sergei — Mon, 22 Jun 2009 00:07:16 +0000

Okay, so maybe that title is a bit over the top. Mom thinks it is. She wanted me to call this post “How to Get Mom and Dad to Stay Home,” but that just doesn’t do it for me, ya know? Clearly, someone needs to teach her a thing or two about blogging.

So here are the harrowing details of My Brush With Death:

Last night, as Mom and Dad were getting ready to leave us poor suffering hounds alone so that they could go out to dinner, I saw this strange thing on the kitchen floor. Aware that anything on the kitchen floor is potentially edible, (heck, anything on any floor is potentially edible) I just had to check it out. Yes, I’d already had my dinner, but I’ve never been opposed to scrounging some dessert.

So I walked up to this strange thing on the kitchen floor, gave it a curious sniff, and–

OUCH! It zapped me!

I backpedaled out of the kitchen so fast that my feet were sliding on the tile. Mom says I looked like a cartoon character running in place. Ha-ha, Mom. My schnozzle had been ZAPPED! And it HURT!

Mom came into the kitchen to see what was going on, and quickly went into action. She told Dad to run upstairs and get some Benadryl. She opened a cupboard and pulled out a red plastic cup with some writing on the side. Inside the cup was a piece of cardboard. She used the cup and the cardboard to chase down and scoop up the nasty zapping thing on the kitchen floor, and then set the cup on the counter.

By then, Dad had brought the Benadryl from upstairs and I was lying on the couch trying to lick and rub away the ouchie from the nasty zapping creature.

Mom shoved a couple of Benadryl down my throat (yuck!) and then checked my schnozzle and inside my mouth for any sign of the zap-creature’s attack. I don’t think she found anything, but it sure hurt. It was like a spicy bee, only WAY more intense.

Mom said that she and Dad would be staying home to make sure I didn’t have any sort of reaction. I really wasn’t sure what she meant by a “reaction,” but I was happy they were staying home.

While Mom was keeping an eye on me, Dad got the camera and the cup with the nasty zapping thing in it, and took them outside so he could take some pictures. Here they are:

The nasty zapping thing safely ensconced in the cup.

Turns out the cup says: "Scorpions ONLY!"

(Yes, that’s right, Mom and Dad have a dedicated scorpion-catching cup. Ah, life in the Southwest desert…)

After taking the picture, Dad let the nasty thing go in the front yard. I sure hope it doesn’t come back inside.

As for the “reaction” Mom was worried about, here are some pictures of BJ from a couple of months ago when she made the mistake of checking out a nasty zapping creature:

The creature zapped the left side of BJ's face - as if you couldn't tell.

Poor puffy BJ face.

When BJ had her zapping-creature encounter, she got Benadryl and she got rushed to the emergency vet. I guess I’m glad I didn’t get all puffy and have to go to the vet, although I really do like to go bye-bye in the car and meet new people.

But even BJ didn’t react as badly as another dog Mom and Dad had before I came to live here. Below is a picture of Rahja after she got “scorpioned.” (Yes, she really was a Greyhound, despite the huge muzzle; that’s all swelling from the zapping.)

Puffy-faced Rahja after getting "scorpioned."

Both Rahja and BJ survived their “puffiness” with no permanent damage – and no lingering puffiness. I wonder if they learned to stay away from scorpions. I think I have.

Me after the zapping, glassy-eyed with the effects of the Benadryl.

Today, I’m fully recovered from the zap (and from the Benadryl). I think I’ll stick to bees for my spicy Southwestern treats.

–Sergei

Happy 5th Birthday, Me!

Sergei — Fri, 05 Jun 2009 17:16:28 +0000

Today, June 5, 2009, is my fifth birthday. Mom says that means I’m an adult now and I have to grow up. If I figure out what she’s talking about, I’ll let you know.

As today approached, I thought hard about what I should write to celebrate my me-ness. I was going to prove that I could be completely unselfish and write about my packmates, but then I realized that none of you would’ve come here on MY birthday to read about the The Greys of Our Lives. (I will, however, endeavor to write about everybody – even the cat – in future posts.)

What I finally decided to do was go through all of the pictures that survived the Great Hard Drive Crash of 2009 and reflect on my first five years of Sergei-ness and my first 18 months here in Arizona.

Below is a picture of me when I was three weeks old, followed by a more recent picture so you can see that I really have grown up. If you talk to Mom, I’d like you to point this out so she’ll stop telling me to do so.

And here’s a picture of me sitting and making a face when I was 6 weeks old, followed by a more recent one of me doing the same thing. Again, notice the growedupedness about the second picture:

Do you like the puppy sneer or the snarly adult yawn better?

One thing I’ve learned over the years is that humans can be a bit slow on the uptake (take the whole “Mom hasn’t noticed that I’m grown up yet” thing as an example). For some things, it’s okay if humans remain in the dark, but when it comes to me wanting food, I’ve found that I sometimes have to be somewhat forceful.

Since food is quite often found somewhere on a counter in the kitchen, I have discovered that I can put my chin on the counter (it’s the perfect height) and then clunk it down a couple of times so that my target human receives an audio as well as a visual cue.

Clunk.

Sometimes clunking even works:

Yum!

That last picture was taken very recently, and you’ll notice what’s right there with me: My Favorite Toy. Even after 18 months here, with all of the toys I have access to, it’s still my favorite.

Maybe I like it because it's tall and skinny like me.

Prancing with my favorite toy.

I've got my favorite toy! Hooray!

My favorite toy attempts to escape.

You know, I could probably do a whole post about my favorite toy trying to escape – it’s sneaky that way. Maybe I’ll blog about it in the future.

Since I love my favorite toy so much, I try to take good care of it. I even try to keep it clean:

Time to wash my favorite toy.

I drop it in the pool and let it soak for a while.

Checking to see if it's clean yet.

Yes, it looks clean now.

Giving it a chance to drip dry.

I love my nice clean toy!

Getting back to food…you might think that with all of the clunking I need to do to get food from my humans, I don’t get much dog food here. Well, that’s true. Mom doesn’t feed me very much dog food, but I do get a lot of other good food.

One of my very first meals here: a chicken leg quarter. Awesome!

Demolishing some YUMMY beef heart.

Once in awhile we do get food out of bowls, too, usually lots of leftover stuff plus a bunch of veggies and other goodies all ground up together. It’s sorta messy, but it’s really GOOD.

Let me help you with that, Peaches. You've got a bit of it on your nose.

Sometimes we get treats, too, but Mom tends to make me work for those.

Jumping for - not joy - but a piece of liver cake.

When I’m not eating or jumping or cleaning my favorite toy, I do still play around with Do-It-Yourself Toys.

Here's a nice potential toy - a light bulb box (with the light bulb removed, of course).

Gnaw, gnaw, gnaw.

Chomp!

Check out this latest fashion: a SchnozzleBox!

Uh-oh. I think it may be stuck.

I did escape from the horrible, schnozzle-eating light bulb box. But do-it-yourself light bulb box toys aren’t the only dangerous toys around here.

You may remember the Huge Green Spider toy I introduced in my post, The Importance of a Diversified Portfolio. Well, one day, the Huge Green Spider tried to SWALLOW JACK WHOLE, and I had to rush to his rescue.

Oh no, Jack, it's swallowed your ENTIRE head!

Pull, Jack, pull!

It took some doing, but I finally managed to rescue my bestest buddy Jack from the clutches of the evil Huge Green Spider.

Sometimes Jack has other problems, though . . .

Uh, Jack, don't look now but you've got a foot growing out of your chest. Ew.

I have noticed a few other things around here that aren’t completely safe, especially involving the pool.

Seems there's no air under the water.

And the floaty blue thing tastes AWFUL!

But I do have my pack, which is nice.

Here we all are in a recent group shot (waiting for food, of course).

And I have a Giant Raccoon toy that occasionally needs to be shown who’s boss.

And then there’s Mom and Dad’s nice comfy bed.

Me and the girls taking a snooze.

So it’s really not a bad life here at all. Maybe I’ll stick around for another 18 months – or until I can prove to Mom that I really am all grown up. But that could take YEARS. Oh well, grown up or not…

...I'm so happy to be MEEEEE!

Until next time,

-Sergei

The Giant Thing on the Lawn

Sergei — Thu, 21 May 2009 23:52:06 +0000

So there I was, taking a snooze on the lawn.

Borzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzoi...

Suddenly, I sensed that something had changed.

Huh?

I stood up to look around the yard.

What's going on?

And then I saw it. There was a giant thing on the lawn.

Hey, what's this giant thing doing on the lawn?

What was this giant thing? More importantly, could I eat it?

P-too-ey! No, not edible.

Maybe I could play with it.

Kinda big for a game of fetch.

I decided to get a second opinion and showed the giant thing to Peaches, the resident tripod and boss lady of the pack.

What do you think, Peaches?

She didn’t seem terribly interested in the giant thing.

Peaches: "Hm. Whatever."

Clearly, if something was to be done about the giant thing, it was up to me to do it. I took a nibble from a different spot on the giant thing.

Maybe this part is edible.

Sadly, it was no more edible than the other part. I decided it was time to get tough.

Grrrrr... Take that, you giant thing.

Growling at it didn’t seem to do much, so I went for an all-out ‘zoi attack and pounced.

Gotcha!

The giant thing didn’t seem any more interested in my attack than Peaches had in the giant thing being there in the first place. It was time for a more serious approach.

Chomp!

Die, giant thing, die!

At last, the giant thing had had enough. It was time for my victory lap.

I am victorious!

Er…make that “victory laps.”

I have triumphed!

I am Sergei, slayer of giant lawn things!

Being victorious is hot work. Thank goodness the pool was there for me to cool my feet.

Here I come again, pool! From now on, I will be known as Thingbane!

Okay, so maybe I got a bit carried away with the victory laps.

Ding dong, the thing is dead!

Welcome Thingbane's victorious paws, oh lawn!

All hail Thingbaaaaaaane!

Wow. Check out all that water.

It looks like the pool exploded.

Exploding pool or not, that was FUN!

Until next time, this is Sergei Fluffy-Tail Thingbane, signing off.

P.S. Mom wants me to tell you that, if you like science fiction or fantasy, you should visit her new website and read some of the stuff she’s written. Why you would want to read fiction stories by Mom when you can read non-fiction stories by me, I don’t know. But…whatever.

Renaissance Borzoi 2009 Pictures

Sergei — Wed, 22 Apr 2009 22:50:32 +0000

It’s been over a month since my last post, and over two months since my original Renaissance Borzoi 2009 post. My excuse is the usual one: Mom’s far too busy with silly things like work to type up my posts for me. This time, however, she does have a bit of a legitimate excuse – her hard drive on her computer died so she had to have her entire system rebuilt. She had most of her files backed up, so she didn’t lose too much. However, one thing she did lose is all of the pictures she and Dad took at the 2009 Arizona Renaissance Festival. Fortunately, she had processed the pictures for this post before the drive died, so there are still versions of the most important pictures they took – the ones with ME in them! And here they are…

Me and Peaches, the boss lady, riding to the Festival

The picture below shows me wearing the new, extra large “Donation Dog” silk that Mom ordered so I can help collect donations for the Greyhounds while I’m working with them. Of course, some of the bigger Greyhounds can wear this silk, too, but it was made to my measurements. Isn’t it stunning?

My new finery.

Getting pets in front of the Greyhounds of Fairhaven booth.

More pets

Hi. My name's Sergei. Love me.

Pets from kids are best.

Jack tells me these kid-carriers sometimes carry treats. Sadly, I didn't find any.

Would you believe it - more pets for me!

And, of course, in the afternoon, the Queen and her ladies escorted me around the faire.

Me and all the pretty ladies

The Queen and I (it should be a musical)

I seem to attract royalty. Here I am with the Queen, the Prince, and the Princess. Oh yeah, Mom's there, too, but she's not royal. She's just Irish.

A good-bye hug from Her Majesty

Alas, those are the only pictures to survive the great hard-drive crash of 2009, but some is better than none.

With luck, Mom will be able to help me with my next post before another month passes, but if I were you, I wouldn’t hold my breath.

–Sergei