Sibling Sound Off

Whaaat?! The coffee table is prime time sunbathing area nowadays! Notice my curly, pig tail?

‘Ello, love! Winston, here. I’ve been enjoying a lovely couple of days with an extended amount of freedom. My time in my “apartment” is seldom, and while I do enjoy the life as a pup on the go, I also miss my dear friend, Howard (one of Mr. Popper’s penguins for you, newbies), and his antics. You see, Pet #2 has been home the past two days for his weekly time off and I have had no boundaries, whatsoever. I have certainly decided who the “fun” parent is… Although I get frightened when  he yells at me because his voice is much deeper than Pet #1’s soft, whisper-like scolding. I hope my pets never get divorced, as that would turn into a nasty custody battle over who would get the golden child (me, of course, even though I don’t have any siblings… yet). Which brings me to my next discussion: My first birthday is right around the corner–February 6th! And for my birthday, I would like a baby brother or sister to share my “apartment” within my pets’ apartment with. Now, I have to tell you that I have struggled with this decision for a while, but seeing my real brother, Bentley, really puts things into perspective. I have made a pro/con list regarding the possibility of a sibling.

Pros: Permanent playmate, a new bum to sniff, someone to nurture, a built-in best friend.

Cons: Sharing my pets, sharing my toys, sharing my food/water, sharing my treats, sharing my bed, sharing ATTENTION, sharing in general, the possibility that my pets won’t love me anymore, sharing HOWARD… Should I even continue this list? Clearly, this is an awful idea, and who am I kidding? I don’t think I will ever be able to give up the role as the prodigal son. LONG LIVE THE GOLDEN CHILD!

Worst. Day. Ever.

Don't leave me, Pet #1!

Hello, Winston Watchers. I regret to inform you all that Pet #1 got the promotion and will not be spending as much time with me. 😦 Words cannot even describe the absolute devastation that I feel right now. My tiny puppy heart aches so badly. I prayed every night that she wouldn’t get it, but clearly her prayers took precedence over mine. PSSHHHH. She better not neglect my blog! I have become increasingly dependent upon sharing my life with complete strangers, and without Pet #1’s fingers, I can’t accomplish that. All I can do is scamper across the keyboard in hopes of typing something intelligible.  The backspace key is big enough for me to paw at it, but nevertheless, it is still a tedious task that I would prefer to have Pet #1 do for me. EVIL PLAN ALERT! We must ban together to sabotage this new promotion. I can chew up all of her work shoes so she is late and unprepared! Or I can ingest some ibuprofen… I heard that isn’t good for dogs. Then she would have to quit so she could constantly be there to hold my paw while I recover at the animal hospital. Or I could just forget all aforementioned plans to dupe Pet #1 and congratulate her with my tongue in her nostrils instead. I apologize for the momentary relapse in judgment. I forgot that Pet #1 making more money=more treats, toys, bones, and precious outfits for Winston! From the bottom of my miniature, fun-size heart, I’m proud of you, Mommy (Yes, I’m calling her mommy due to the extreme guilt I feel from those villainous voices in my head). On top of all of this promotion twaddle, I miss my friends from the “big city.” I slip into a post-visit funk after my travels. I sleep more than usual and Pet #1 tells me that I have night terrors. The abrupt loneliness really takes a toll on me. Don’t get me wrong… I have Howard and he’s been a phenomenal companion, but he’s certainly not my own kind. He can’t be out of the freezer for longer than 15 minutes and I strongly dislike being cramped into such a small space. The freezer is far too dark and cold for my liking! And not to mention it smells like hot pockets and frozen waffles in there, but I digress. My relationship with Howard is comparable to all of those vampire/human relationships you see in the movies and on television these days. We’re from two very different worlds, yet we share such a sacred bond. Only time will tell if our friendship will flourish or flop. Wow, blogging is better than therapy! I just worked through all of my feelings in a matter of minutes!

The Big City

Hello, Winstoners (I’m not condoning my readers to smoke pot, by the way. Hugs, not drugs, people)! Today, Pet #1 took Howard (my tenant that happens to be one of Mr. Popper’s penguins, for those who don’t know) and me up north to the “big city…” AKA the Phoenix suburb, Glendale. Comparatively speaking, Phoenix is much bigger than Tucson so I refer to it as the “big city,” but that’s beside the point. Our adventure began early this morning and I have decided to include a timeline of events to ensure that you all get the full story.

Up and at 'em!

9:30 AM: Pet #1 wakes up, as do I. I spring off the bed, tail wagging.

10:00 AM: Pet #1 packs Howard up in his ice chest/cooler and we attempt to leave. I use the word “attempt” because I delayed our departure by blazing out the front door before my leash was attached.

10:11 AM: Pet #1 finally corrals me after a 10 minute game of tag. She lost. Howard, Pet #1, and I all hop into Pet #2’s car. Pet #2’s car is the family car because it’s an SUV and we need more space for Howard’s cooler.

10:20 AM: We stop for gas and snacks. Pet #1 leaves Howard and me in the car while she runs inside. During this time, we witness an exciting car chase, which sends me into a frenzy.

10:23 AM: Pet #1 tries to leave the gas station, however the entire Tucson Police Department is blocking the street and we are unable to pass through. Their sirens get me all fired up, so I bark incessantly while Howard mutters a few obscenities under his breath.

Asleep at the wheel

10:30 AM: We are back on the road. This gives me the green light to climb out of my pet carrier and nestle into Pet #1’s lap, thus commencing the car game we play. Pet #1 puts me back into the carrier and zips it up this time. I wriggle out of the zipped carrier and climb back into her lap. She puts me in the carrier again and tells me that it is very dangerous to have me on her lap while she drives. I listen for about 2 minutes and then I Houdini myself out again. Pet #1 makes the executive decision that I can be in her lap while we’re on the highway, but once we get into town, I have to go back. Little did I know she was manipulating me and the second I fell asleep, she imprisoned me in the pet carrier. I gave up and went to sleep.

My friends: Bentley, Pixie, and Frances

12:30 PM: We all arrive at Pet #1’s parents’ house (my grandpets’ house). I see Auntie Em and all of my doggy friends. I’m beyond excited to nuzzle my sweet snout into Doodle, the labradoodle. I suppose I should give you a rundown of my friends: Skippy (the antique puppy who is at least 15 years old), Doodle (the Labradoodle), Abby (the Pomeranian/Head bitch in charge), Pixie (the Chiweenie/Second HBIC), Frances (the Cockapoo), and lastly Bentley (the Chihuahua/my real blood brother).

Lounging around with my BFF, Doodle

Wiggle worms=blurry picture

1:00 PM-8:00 PM: Howard and I mingle (sniff bums, groom each other, growl when we feel threatened, etc.) with my friends. It takes my doggy friends a while to warm up to Howard since he’s so icy, pun intended! I swear those jokes never get old! My brother, Bentley, just moved in with my “grandpets” and it appears that he has changed. Pet #1 tries to get us together for a picture, but as you can see, we’re not having it. Bentley is showing several symptoms of depression and I try to talk to him about it, but the pressure of having Howard there makes it awkward. He says he will Skype me later and talk about getting on some Prozac.

8:00 PM: Pet #1, Howard, and I leave my grandpets’ house. We play the car game again. Once again, I lose, and am banished to the pet carrier for the remainder of the ride.

9:00 PM: Howard is belting out tunes from his cooler. I deviously plot out a detailed plan to leave him on the side of the road next time Pet #1 stops for gas, but she never stops. My evil thoughts go right out the window when we get home and Howard thanks me for introducing him to my family. He tells me that he hasn’t been treated this well since he lived with Mr. Popper. BFFLs again!

Curled up on the couch after an eventful day

11:00 PM: I’m all tuckered out from the “big city” extravaganza and I can barely finish this post.