The Drooler

Gibson has a new charming trait. Since we have moved into our new home, we have been trying to act more like 'leader of the pack' with the dogs. You know, let them know who rules the roost. One behavior we changed is that we do not feed them as soon as we wake up in the morning. The end result being that they no longer wake us up at 5am to feed them.

Also, when we feed them, we make them sit and wait outside the kitchen for 1-5 minutes after their food bowls have been put on the floor. Tica just sits eagerly wagging her tail until she is given the ok. Gibson on the other hand stares with such concentration at his food bowl that he begins to drool all over the floor. DG finally got it on video the other day and posted to his blog. It makes me laugh to tears. Try to ignore me prattling on in the back ground about dinner.

Gratuitous Dog Shots

It all began quite cozy and cuddly.


And slowly morphed into this. I love the leg hanging out of the bed.

My Dog Eats Poop

I've often alluded to the fact that Mr. Gibson eats his own poop. It's not a joke. Seriously. It's actually a disease that some dogs have called Coprophagia. He doesn't eat anyone else's poop. No, he's picky and he just wants his own. We've tried meat tenderizer on his food, medicinal powder, and pills. All are supposed to have the effect of making his poop taste vial to him. But what is a more vial than the taste of poop I ask?

Next we tried to clean up after him each time. But this just isn't realistic, especially in the winter when it is -1 degrees out, like it is today. This weather has caused me to coin the phrase poopsicle. Sometimes he doesn't give you a chance to clean it up. He likes it hot out the oven. Many a day, DG and I have run, screaming as if in slow motion across the yard as we see what is about to occur. There is no amount of yelling or scolding that will make him stop. When he was a few months old he swallowed a fish hook in the alley and had to have it surgically removed from his tummy. This past summer, I caught him red handed eating a dead bird. Even the lure of other, better treats would not make him cough up that bird. I glared at him in a stare down, in vain, as he had 2 little bird legs sticking out of his mouth. He's a stubborn one that Mr. Gibson.

But look at him, how could you love him any less? He's my pride and joy. Even as he cuddles up next to me and burbs up the most foulest of odors fully disgusting anyone in a 20 foot radius, he's so darn cute.

So what is the moral of this story? No matter how handsome he looks, no kisses from Mr. Gibson.

Waiting for Dad

5pm Friday and from my desk in the office, I turned around, only to see this view of the dogs staring out the front window waiting for their dad to come home.

Right on schedule, Gibson started barking the minute he caught sight of DG on the sidewalk. It's ok to greet Dad with a bark, but I try to explain to him that during the day, he is only to bark when the mailman arrives. He is constantly crying wolf however when he sees maybe a leaf blowing across the lawn, or a squirrel climbing the tree, or a snowflake fall or absolutely nothing.

One Hot Dog

Mr. Gibson is super sexxxy in his new black Coach collar and matching leash. Yes, you read correctly. My dog accessorizes in COACH. I think this could be a new bumper sticker.

I was in Chicago this week for meetings with my new company. I couldn't be more pleased to work with such a great bunch of people. One of the perks was a great company dinner on the 9th floor of the university club. After dinner we were all given some really thoughtful gifts. The owners, knowing how much I love my dogs, got the coach collar for me, in fits of giggles. It really is priceless. It almost makes him look as if he doesn't love to run outside and eat his own poop.