SNOW and Attack Labradoink

Many of you might have heard that we had snow right here in Master Chew Sits on Saturday night. Now while some of you live near the north pole and are accustomed to the big snow even before Halloween, it is quite unusual for us.

Momma and Master were going to take Grandma and Grandpa out on a big adventure Saturday, but I told them, "Oh no! Please do not go out all driving around on the dreaded Rt. 128 and into the wild uncharted territory of Concord Master Chew Sits during the big storm."

Well, momma agreed with me, but she had quite the time convincing Grandpa because he lives east of our estate where there was not much snow at all. So momma made us go outside and sit our bottoms in the cold, wet stuff so she could take a photo and prove to him that there really was one of those Nor Eaters going on.

Brrr... my nards!

We lost our electricals for totally almost 8 hours (and listen, those of you who heard it was only 6 from momma can ignore that because in my book 11PM to 7AM is 8 hours, but that's just me).

Lots of trees and stuff fell down. CRASH! BAM! The poor trees were still trying to show off their fall colors and the snow on their leaves made it too hard for them to hold up their arms. Just look at this tree right across the street from our estate. That branch used to be all high in the air, but now it is on the ground!

We did have some branches down at the Mango estate and I set to cleanup duty.

Excuse the blurry photo, but when the Mango is working, the Mango moves with alarming speed.

I took a most civilized stroll up and down our street to scope out the damage, but then Momma said to Pea, "Oh Dexter, let's go for a nice long walkie."

One does worry with momma all walking out where she might run in to who knows what miscreant with only the wee little labradork to protect her.

So imagine my relief when she showed me this actual video of the midget protecting her from a most threatening totally like undead bite your head off scarecrow.

Did you hear him all barking and growling? Who knew he had it in him? Go little dude!

My momma being, well, herself, of course she constructed the requisite creepy snowmanpersons.

You know what else? I made a little movie for you to watch, but since it is wide screen, you need to watch it on the YouTube. Just click here.

Mango Man! Oh yeah!

WTF Wednesday - Pathetic Halloween Costumes

Desperate to fashion something even vaguely suggestive of Halloween costumes for me and Pea, momma scrounged about the estate and produced, well, see for yourselves...

OK, this one isn't too bad, but seriously, methinks maybe for our holiday photo (although the tie does match my lipstick very nicely).

I would rather have seen Pea stuffed into his monkey suit for the third year in a row. In fact, I kind of look forward to him squirming around with momma chasing him about with the flashy, but instead we get this!

Like, oh BOO, I am so scared.

Finally, the most pathetic, WTF excuse for a costume. Huh? Now I'm a cowgirl or something?

Sheesh! Get a clue, woman!

You know what is even worse? I totally wanted to do an awesome post worthy of my large and entertaining self and this is all my dear readers get. As if!

Mango Man! Oh yeah!

P.S. Anybody notice the dearth of comments from my large and always wanting to visit my pals self lately? Yuh, let's just say, idiot human, busy brain, etc., etc.

Farewell Miss Lilac

Run free, beautiful Miss Lilac.

Chilled News by Dexter

Some days back, as the sun began to set, that familiar feeling of emptiness gripped yours truly, signaling time for supper.

I knew I was in for a treat when I spotted momma heading for the cold box; land of raw burgers, green beans, and yogurt.

Gracious chap that I am, I permitted the Relentlessly Huge to proceed me in exploration of our culinary possibilities.

Ah, happy fortune smiled down on me that fateful day as no sooner had he stuck his remarkably large head into the cooler than he recoiled with what I must say was uncharacteristic vigor.

The strong winds generated by the withdrawal of his gravitational field producing noggin brought with it a stench so horrible, so sickeningly sweet that even my sturdy labrabelly clenched and I felt the start of the old hurka hurka rumbling up from my heretofore clamoring for dinner stomach area.

As I backed away, Mango staggered a few steps before dropping to the ground. The shock of which nearly sent me flying head over tea kettle.

Torn as I was between assisting the big guy and sparing my labralife, I knew that I needed oxygen immediately if I were to avoid succumbing to the toxic fumes that still crawled over the kitchen area even after the door to the cold box had been securely latched.

Thus I made for the outdoors, followed closely by Momma whom, it appears, was equally absorbed in saving herself and leaving Mango to his doom.

Thus ensued the following conversation;

Me: Momma! Something died in the cold box!

Momma: No, it's OK, Master just spilled some milk and it went sour.

Me: I have never smelled milk like that before. Are your certain that some hapless creature didn't find it's way in there and meet its cold and lonely doom while we slumbered?

Momma: Dexter, I am sure. It is just milk.

Me: Well, then, clean it up. I can't possibly eat anything that comes out of there. I can't even go back inside.

Momma: I'm not cleaning it up. I didn't do it. I don't even drink milk.

Me: I don't think this is the time for petty quarels. Besides, you need to save Mango.

Momma: Mango will be fine. But seriously, little dude, Master spilled it, he should clean it up.

Me: Oh, it's going to be like that, is it?

And so the battle ensued. With every open and close of that door making our estate ever more uninhabitable.

Finally, I was able to convince Master to clean it out. I took the somewhat recovered cry baby Momma's dog outdoors with me for some cleansing breaths while the scouring commenced.

But to my horror, even after all the drawers and shelves were removed and cleaned, the smell lingered. If anything, it became worse.

What next? I feared we might have to move out while the EPA cleaned up our estate.

But then, a few days later, Momma says to me.

"Dexter, I have solved the problem. The cold box is no longer stinky and all your noms are safe."

Cautiously I stuck my snooter in the crack of the door. You can bet I was holding my breath.

Inside, I saw a curious sight indeed.

Momma had added the daily news to the foodables.

And if by magic, the stinky smell had been vanquished.

Even still, I was not about to be the first to try the noms that had been exposed to the vomit like odor of spoiled milk for many a day.

And so, when the Tupperware of hot dogs came out, I summoned all my self control and suggested that Mango get the first bite.

I even let him have a couple more just to be sure.

When he did not expire or otherwise show signs of toxic overload, I happily received my share of the booty.

And thus my story ends.

There are two lessons to be learned;

1. When in doubt, consult the internet.
2. Newspaper absorbs annoying refrigerator odors.

Oh, and of course, never ever ever leave the milk bottle on its side.

Dexter done!

My Acting Debute!

Hey all you clever doggies and kittehs out there. If you aren't following the big mystery on Roo's Pet Fiction Theatre then you are totally missing out. He is doing a multi-act mystery with clues and stuff and you know what else? Today's episode stars.... ME! So follow this link and get on over there for a howling good time.

Mango Man! Oh yeah!

Run Free, Gizmo

My friends, it is with a heavy heart that the Mango learned this morning that Gizmo asked to make his final journey. The bad cancer monster was sneaking up on him too fast and he needed to go to where there is no pain and all doggies are young and healthy forever.

You can visit his blog here.

The Attack of the 87 Foot Leash by Dexter

Thank you so much for all your good thoughts and comments for Rusty and his family. I know it means a lot to them.

Mango Momma

And now, take it away, Dexter!

Over the weekend, momma decided to break out the 87 foot leash for what she deemed to be an "adventure" for yours truly.

In the interest of full disclosure, I will tell you that the leash is actually only 50 ft. long, but one needs to be allowed some poetic license when telling a tale.

I, Dexter, was not amused by the condition of the leash, which, despite having resided in a stationary position for so long that it almost surely had moss growing on it, the blasted thing appeared to have coiled itself into knots and twists worthy of the most determined boy scout.

And to what purpose were we using this ghastly orange snake that particular day?

I was decidedly flummoxed as I soon learned that my "freedom" was not enhanced one bit.

Momma kept the majority of the leash coiled like some neon lasso whilst providing me with only a few short feet of slack.

After a somewhat constraining, but nevertheless pleasant, stroll, we arrived at our local village green.

At this point, momma dropped the string in a clump, grabbed the loopy end and strode purposefully away, leaving me behind to snuffle for leftovers from the recent pie festival.

Apparently this entire exercise was intended to be an "off leash" simulation to build momma's confidence that I really am a good dog who always minds her.

Surely she if not so daft as to think that a clever chap like me would be fooled. The drag alone made me feel as if I was pulling the Queen Mary behind me.

Momma was actually quite annoying during this time and kept calling me to her side whenever I became overly interested in a particular smell or opted to wander in a different direction than she had chosen.

I was quick to recall being somewhat bored with the entire experience and really having nothing better to do.

An adventure this was not.

Until....

These two fun little guys showed up.

Now that white fluffy dog I have met on many an occasion and have always found him quite jolly, but the little wiener dog was someone new.

Naturally, being all burly boy dogs, our first activity was to leave our own remembrances on the gigantic flag pole.

But then it was zoomie time and it was at that moment that I realized the pure genius of momma's plan.

Because, here is how it normally goes down... I meet some fun, off leash dogs and momma is so over the top paranoid that she will not drop her end of the leash and how much fun can one really have with only six feet of wiggle room?

But thanks to the (now my favorite leash in the whole world) 87 foot leash, I was able to enjoy full out zoomies with my buddies.

Let me tell you that wiener dog really had the moves.

So I am going to give the 87 foot leash four big paws up. If you can't go off leash, it is the next best thing.

Oh, and by the way, when I was ready to leave, that white fluffy dog followed me all the way across the field even though his master was calling him with increasing alarm. You know what I did? I peed on him! That's right. You have to trust me on that one because the flashy had already found its way back into momma's pocket.

The now somewhat yellowish white dog's master was a bit agitated over that but I did succeed in discouraging Mr. Fluffy Bottom from following us home.

Dexter done!

POTP, Spotlight on Mango, and Constructions

Hello friends! Today I have three items to discuss with you.

Item #1 - This is a photo of my buddy, Rusty. As you can see, he is a handsome, robust boxer doggie. But even big, strong doggies like Rusty sometimes can get snuck up on by the evil seizure monster. Well, last week that happened and it got hold of him something awful.

Now Rusty doesn't have a bloggy (yet - hehehe), but he will be reading my blog, along with his humans who are beside themselves worried.

So, I'm asking you to leave good thoughts in the comments section to send to Rusty and his family and maybe even share your experiences with that nasty seizure monster.

Item #2

The Mango (and I suppose idiot Pea) are featured today on the bloggy of none other than sweet little Luna. Aw, just look at her. Miss Luna is most clever and has many wonderful adventures for sure.

Sadly, momma sent some sappy words before I, Mango, was able to write to her about blogging, but it is a fun read anyway. Check it out here.

Item #3

If you reach way back in your brains to the cold storage department, you might recall about a year ago when Pea posted about strange things going on in our basement department.

That's right, Master decided to construct a secondary wet room down there.

Yuh, I even put the judges to work during Mango Minster to help move things along.

Well, it is finally finished! And it is as big as the dog cave! Can you imagine?

Sadly, lacking the wide angle lens, momma was unable to get adequate photos, but you can stretch things out in your brains.

See this? It is a special masticator, up pump, flushy box. See, due to the wet room being below ground, the poops and stuff need to go UP to get into our big underground poop tank.

Of course no room at our estate would be complete without some hand made wooden something or other from Master's workshop. He has been very industrious of late all buying wood and chopping it and shaping it.

And he loves to use his clamp ons.

For the top of the wooden storage bin, he bought a most messy piece of material. Kind of looks like PeeWee shedding, doesn't it?

Naturally, I was Mango on the spot to supervise every step of the way.

Ta da! Look at the size of those drawers! Any best on how long it will be before they are stuffed full of who knows what like every other drawer and closet at our estate?

That's all I have. Kind of newsy, right? Whatever. I am planning a big day full of sun baking, nommy meaty bones, and general bouncing.

Mango Man! Oh yeah!

Sibling Issues Saturday

No respect!

Mango Man! Oh yeah!

WTF Wednesday - Rude Humans

Do your humans ever talk about your replacement right in front of you?

Like I totally get that someday I will be crossing over the Rainbow Bridge, OK? But I'm not dead yet for crap's sake.

Show some compassion.

WTF! Seriously? That's cold.

Yuh, and just the notion that they might actually get another labradoink is enough to make me perk up and stick around for many years to come. As if!

Well, maybe if it was one of those smokin hot blond bitches I might reconsider. But if that is what they have in mind..... the Mango is willing. I promise I wouldn't lay a paw on her until she was old enough to get heated up. Yeah, baby!

Mango Man! Oh yeah!

What's on the Menu Monday

Baked Mango...

With a side of Pea.

Mango Man! Oh yeah!

Action Tennis Ball Mastiff

Wait for it....

Wait for it....

GOTCHA!

Mango Man! Oh yeah!

Im Still the Big Dog

Just because the Mango is not as mobile as he once was does NOT mean that I am ready to hand my Big Dog title over to the pointy headed beast.

He thinks because he bounces around like a rubber ball that he can take my place.

For example, the other night I was enjoying my meditations when he attempt to bitey my face off. Seriously?

Thanks to my amazing mastiff reflexes I was able to place my leggie over my soft and not wanting to fall into a labramouth face for protection.

As for YOU, PeeWee, I just have five words...

Be afraid...

Be VERY afraid!

Mango Man! Oh yeah!

Dexter the Wonder Dog - On the Oddities of Human Speech

Ever wonder why humans are always recycling words and assigning them different meanings rather than just make up new and unambiguous language?

Take, for example, this true story which happened just last week.

There I was, relaxing at home with the RH when I suddenly found myself feeling quite full and a bit anxious in my lower regions.

Knowing that momma would be at the work place for some hours and the comings and goings of Master are not deterministic, I pondered over how to relieve myself without creating a discrete, but distasteful pile in my living area.

In a moment of what I can only characterize as pure genius, I recalled the upstairs storage area which momma is always remarking is "full of crap." Well, actually, she uses a different word, but being a gentleman, I'll stick with "crap" for this story.

"Well," I said to myself, "Dexter, you are a clever scoundrel. Clearly the reason momma and master don't actual live upstairs is because the upper floor is an extended crap area. How convenient."

Up I go and deposit what I have to admit was an artfully placed pile of labralogs right in the crap room.

I watched anxiously the next morning when momma went upstairs to get her work place outfit.

Imagine my surprise when she came back down not to congratulate me on my cleverness, but to express concern to Master over the "large pile of *crap*" in the storage room. Oh dear, where had I gone wrong?

To make matters worse, I thought that I had misunderstood and that perhaps the "crap" room actually somehow meant the guest room where momma takes her Saturday naps.

Cautious, but determined, I made a couple of deposits there the very next day, only to be met with the same furrowed brow where I had hoped for a big hug and fawning over my resourcefulness.

Now, access to the upstairs has been denied.

The moral of the story? Well, one can only conclude that "crap" and the more vulgar word that momma uses with great relish, is yet another example of humans talking in context dependent code. So make sure you are clear on their meaning before you take action.

Dexter done!

P.S. Momma says I am a total freak-a-zoid who will only potty on walkies and insists on holding it until I have an emergency rather than despoil my play yard. I wonder if that is code for "Dexter is the best labradog in the world."

She also says that she pledges to take me on more walkies so that I can potty in the locations of my choice. Now those are words I understand completely.