You’d think a guy would be self-conscious if his breath smelled like his poop, but Sparky thinks it’s funny. I had a colleague at NoRo who thought it was funny to cut a silent, but deadly fart, then call a student up to his desk for a chat. It’s fine, he was a coach and the student was one of his players.
With the snow coming down all day, we’ve been hunkering down. Sparky didn’t even notice when I went down to the garage for an hour to put the snow tires on. He was happy to lay by the fire, screw around with Mr. Moose, and help me watch Youtube.
When the wind let up, Sparky would surely be eager to bound through the snow, run off some energy and check on all the outside stuff he has to check on. When we went out for our walk, Sparky put up a good front, but when I started for the bridge, he ran for the house.
Sparky wants us to revisit the policy about never pooping in the house. Even with a Carhartt jacket, going outside to poop in the snow doesn’t seem reasonable.
To be fair, Sparky is cooperating with the policy, but he isn’t convinced.
Señor Piglet has to shed some weight. When we talked about it, he kept patting my belly and smirking. I can’t help thinking he was making some kind of point.
Well, Sparky might eat crickets, but I wouldn’t ask him to.
Sparky is getting too big for his britches. Not in the “putting on airs” sense. I encourage him to be a confident boss. No, he is just getting too big. Sparky doesn’t have any britches, but now that I’ve got a sewing machine, if I made him some britches, he mustn’t be splitting the seams.
This photo was taken almost two years ago, the day after I brought Sparky home. Man, he has really let himself go. No wonder his nickname is Señor Piglet. He needs to get on the carnivore diet.
Sparky was all ears when I told him the troubling news. Yesterday, while Sparky was patrolling the grounds, I saw a coyote between the chain link fence and the sound wall. It wasn’t far from the grape vines where Sparky likes to snuffle. They would be on opposite sides of the fence, so that’s not an issue.
Sparky no longer wants to go past the top of the hill. I’m starting to think he’s smelling something in the woods, rather than being intimidated by yellow jackets. He will go on if he’s on a leash, but he isn’t nuts about it.
The sticky snow that we had last night leaves the world looking bleak. I love it. Sparky is sleeping in, so I decided to tramp around outside to take some pictures before it melts off.
Work kept Sparky pretty busy last night. I’d like to see his job description, he seems to have a helluva lot more to look after than I do. My job responsibilities are opening doors and retrieving toys that roll under the furniture. That doesn’t sound like much, but I’m counting the lid to Sparky’s food locker as a door, along with the patio and car doors.
Sparky doesn’t respect my work. If all the doors were gone, he’d be fine. Sparky wouldn’t see a problem with burying his snout in the dog food trough. Car rides are fun, and driving doesn’t seem too hard. Toys rolling under the furniture is a bigger problem than he will admit. Sparky is certain that if he continued to paw at the furniture and scamper around, the toy would come out. More likely he’d just grab one of his other 40 toys.
To be fair, I don’t respect Sparky’s work. Pawing at his bed took 10 minutes of dedicated attention. I don’t know why, but he thought it was critical. Throughout the night, Sparky had to get up several times to check the house. He doesn’t disturb anything and dogs don’t see ghosts or spirits the way cats do, so it’s a mystery what problem he was trying to solve.
When Sparky wakes up, he will see that there is snow on the ground. Since this is the first snow, I have to remind him that I don’t mind walking in the snow, so pooping in the house is not doing me a favor.
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