As my Dad was moving his blog posts from his original host over to this one, it dawned on me that I had never properly introduced myself to our readers. I'm Grover, the latest in a long line of adopted dogs Mom and Dad have had through the years. Not that I haven't been featured in lots of blog posts; I've become a very integral part of this family in such a short time frame!
But for all of you who have never had the pleasure of my company in real time, it's time to get to know me - Grover the Lemon Beagle - a bit more intimately.
This is what Dad calls my mugshot. I don't really know why he calls it that, but from what he tells me it's the first look Mom and Dad got of me when I was turned over to someone who had agreed to foster me. Apparently, I was in a home with a poodle and a cat, and they were both attacking me. At least, that's my story and I'm sticking to it; there's nothing to the ugly rumors that I might have been the instigator in some of those attacks.
All I know is the next day, I'm being picked up and put into the back seat of their Mini Cooper convertible and taken to my new home! I was a bit surprised when my new house moved around - a lot!
I quickly learned that Mom is a soft touch when it comes to a cute face. Even though they provided me with a very comfortable bed to look out my very own doggie window, it only takes a little pleading and some doggie eyes to get Mom to allow me in her lap. She's such a pushover! I do love to go for rides in the car, too, so Mom and Dad got me this nice harness and rigged it up in the back seat to keep me safe. It's only drawback is that it doesn't allow me to get in the front seat of the car with Mom. Grrrr!
Either way, traveling is the life for me!
Mom and Dad are really nice, and make sure that there are lot's of toys for me to play with (and sometimes destroy), because you can't have too many toys, right?
Mom and Dad also take real good care of me, but sometimes they like to do things I don't like very much, like take a shower, or worse yet, have my toenails clipped. I really hate that. So sometimes before, and always after, I find a good hiding place to let them know I'm not really happy with them. This usually involves hiding behind the big pillows on their bed. It's not a very effective hiding spot, as they always find me, but it gets the message across that I'm a bit ticked off with them.
It's actually MY bed, even though Mom and Dad still insist that it's theirs. They sleep in it with me, and I just move underneath or on top of the covers as my needs suit me. And ALWAYS in between them. After all, we beagles are Velcro-dogs, and I must be attached to one or both of them at all times.
Sometimes Mom and Dad will take me on one of their adventures outdoors. I really love long hikes in the woods, because there are lot's of smells for this beagle's nose to investigate. Other times, I'm not as enthusiastic about joining them in one of their outings, like the time they took me kayaking in a lake with them. It was pretty scary at first, and I kind of got used to it after a while, but let's just say I was very happy to get my four feet back on solid ground!
Now some of you may get the idea that I sit around all day, playing Velcro-dog by attaching myself to either Mom or Dad (or both) - and I do - but sometimes I have work to do as well. After all, someone's got to keep track of these humans to make sure they're doing their chores right. One time, Dad had to vacuum out the Mini, and Mom and I had to supervise him to make sure he was doing it right.
And it's very hard work keeping track of them, even in a small area like our motor home. Sometimes I have to make sure that everything is OK with Dad when he's in the bathroom. After all, the shower IS back there, and that's pretty scary! Sometimes he just spends a lot of time in there, and I get concerned, so I track him down and check in on him from time-to-time.
Other times, I just have to make sure he's eating right, and not dropping anything on the floor that would make a mess for me to clean up.
Dad says it creeps him out, but I know he's just kidding. Dad kids a LOT. But mainly, I'm a thief; at least, that's what Mom and Dad call me. Dad says it's because I stole his heart. With Mom, I just steal the food she's not watching very closely, or what she's dropping while she makes a meal for them. No matter; I'm still one very happy dog who is loved, and who doesn't get attacked by a poodle or a cat any more. Even if I have to put up with getting dressed in a silly costume every once and a while:
That's all for now. If you happen to see us in a campground somewhere in the very recognizable Parental Parolees blue Tiffin motor home, stop by and say Hi! I'll be sure to steal your heart, too!
No comments:
Post a Comment