Happy Birthday to Me!

I'm not exactly sure what a birthday is, but I have to say, I like it. Rarf has been making a big fuss over me all day. I had liver for breakfast, and we went to Petco and PetQuarters and got all kinds of treats.

Speaking of PetQuarters, we met a dog there who, well . . . I don't know. He was like me, kind of, but bigger, with white on him. Rarf called him a "landseer." His name was Buzz and I felt kinda funny around him. But his owners pulled him away so I didn't have a chance to really sniff him all over.

Anyway, here I am after getting brushed for my birthday, and then with my birthday present: the biggest tennis ball I have ever seen!!!

Me 'n Rosie

Have I told you about my buddy Rosie? At least, I REALLY REALLY want to be her buddy, but she has a really sharp beak and doesn't play by dog rules. She's also kind of spooky, because she flys. In the air. Really. And she talks to me. I don't mean normal dog talk like Shadow and Maggie---I mean she TALKS, just like Rarf. She tells me to sit, go lay down, and be quiet. When she's really perturbed she yells "No!" and bites my nose. Hard! I do think that we could be friends some day---I keep trying. I know she must really love me because she throws food on the floor for me. I'd love to let her ride around on my head, but I'm afraid she'd peck my eyes out!

Dark walks

Sorry I haven't posted in a while. Hello to Amici, Desert Pups, and all you other wild and crazy dog bloggers!
I don't know what's going on, but Rarf always makes me go for walks when it's still dark in the morning now (when I'm still trying to get my beauty sleep!), and after it's dark at night. When it's light out, she's not home. And we don't go to the track any more, or the quarry: we seem to stay on sidewalks and streets with no fields for me to tear around. I don't get it. She doesn't seem too happy about it either. And I haven't been swimming much lately either.
On the other hand, she has been playing soccer and stick in the yard with me at lunchtime---and I have to say that I skunk her every time.
By the way, I got weighed at the vet this week and at 10 months old I am 97 svelte newfie pounds!

Rarf's new project

Rarf and Joe (that's what she calls him) have been driving to that hayfield a lot---where Chocolate, the brown, chubby lab lives---and they always take me with them. It's kind of frustrating, because every time I run across the road to see Chocolate, Rarf drags me back and then ties me up. Now and then she takes me to swim in the pond filled with cattails, but other than that, she doesn't let me have much fun. She and Joe spend a lot of time carrying stuff around and banging stuff together and won't let me help. They have a blog about it called Sunnywood, but it's nowhere near as good as my blog.

I love raspberries :)

"Pick your own" is the best! We have the best raspberry patch in our yard. However, Rarf says dogs don't like fruit. Let's puzzle this out: I'm a dog; I like fruit. I love Rarf, but between you and me, she's not the sharpest tool in the shed.

Teenagers . . .

I don't know how to say this, but . . . there is a teenaged human in our house, and he does not like me. Even more amazing, none of his friends like me, either. I'm a NEWFIE, for goodness sake: what's not to like? I am (just ask me) pretty much the sweetest, funnest, beautifulest dog in the world. But all they see when they look at me is hair and drool. They all run away yelling "ewww!" when I try to play with them. They call themselves TEENAGERS??? They're senior citizens with pimples, if you ask me. It's no wonder the world is a mess, when the up and coming generation has such superficial standards. If they would only get to know me . . .

I am being tortured!!!

I have been trying for days to tell our neighbors that I'm being tortured. I admit that my puppy fur is falling out, and it looks, well, a tad scruffy. But does Rarf really think she's going to get all of the mats out of my fur??? Have you seen some of these "dematting tools"? They have nasty, big pointed teeth! Are these anything you would use on someone you love? Oh sure, Rarf keeps saying that this is just to make me feel better. But seriously, is this necessary? I'm not a show dog: I'm a run-in-the-woods-swim-in-the-river dog. If I could talk, I'd tell Rarf that the big black dogs who worked loyally by their owners' sides in Newfoundland were probably full of mats---and completely happy. Would someone please bring her to her senses?