Builders: 1, Scoffers: 0

You know who you are...you scoffers.
Behold, the bookcase.
At this pace, we're looking at a Spring 2010 grand opening.

Testing...1...2...3...

'sup, 'sup, y'all?

The Wiener Dog is going into serious hibernation mode...this cold is just not right

We've been a bit lazy, but slowly getting a few things done. Bought the giant TV...now just need to get in gear so there is somewhere to watch it.

Had a smallish run-in with an unwelcome guest the other night. Turns out, possums don't really fear the wiener dog. They're not that impressed with slingshots, either.

Enjoy the snow, you people!

Peace. Out.

The Iceman Cometh

It's getting cold!! If you're a Wiener Dog, you already know the solution to this problem: You stay inside 24/7


If you're a human, you have far less attractive solutions:


Seriously, a jacket? Can't a Wiener Dog at least have his dignity?

At least Sage still respects me...or is that pity in her eye?


You already know what I'm thinking: if you stuck me in this jacket, you had better fear the Wiener Dog.

For now,

Peace. Out.

Hey, Nana...thanks for the party!

Okay, peeps. So that was a pretty good party. Thanks, Nana...you're the best!

Couple of quick notes:

Coco and Coconut cupcakes do not mix.

That's okay though...she just spits it out in Uncle Robb's hand.

Tate and YaYa were digging the porch swing.

Sage and I have worked out a deal: we've traded beds.

My new bed:

Sage's new bed:

I think we're both pretty pleased with the arrangement.

Have a great week, y'all. Thanks for lettin' a Wiener Dog hang with you today.

Peace. Out.

Testing...1...2...3...

The Wiener dog recognizes that he's carrying the dreams of so many on his slim (yet handsome) shoulders. So, for his lax posting, he apologizes. Sometimes inspiration comes easy...sometimes, not so much.




Is my life exciting? Not at all. It's hard to maintain that rugged, tough-guy image that I value so much, when Tigger is constantly posing me with flowers.

The volleyball must be taking it's toll on Elise. Here's how we found her spending her Saturday:

I think she was worried about a swarm of rogue killer bees.

Ian's football season is over...a pretty fair year, all told. Played nearly every down on both sides of the ball. When you lead the team in tackles from the safety position, that doesn't bode well. Still, scored a few touchdowns, recovered some fumbles...not bad. Thing is, when you're a football star, the women just won't leave you alone.

I know that I'm a bad, bad dog...I'll try to do better on my posting...promise.

For now...Peace. Out.

More relatives?!?!

'Sup, y'all? The wiener dog has settled into a routine. It's eat, sleep, chase the cat, repeat. Exciting? Perhaps not, but it's how I roll.





Is it possible that I've got still more cousins? They just keep coming! Here's the latest three on the list:


The wiener dog was left home again to hang with his brother, Roscoe. Are my feelings hurt? A little. But, I'm always up for hangin' with my bro.

Tomorrow's a party for the Tigger's Bday. I'm hoping that the girls will drop lots of pizza, popcorn, etc. on the ground. I'm just the dog to clean it up.

Well, keep it real, peeps.

Peace. Out.

The update

Did the Wiener Dog bite off more than he can chew with this blogging thing? Probably! How about weekly-ish updates?

Last week was the big cousins trip to KC!

Not all the big cousins went to Worlds O' Fun (Anna, you know who you are!).

Chicken boats are the right way to start off a WOF day.

Meredith and Tigger got to meet a celebrity...no autographs, please!

"B" shot everyone...but only because they deserved it.

Babs, Tigger and Ian were keen to try the "Ripcord".

Then they got a closer look at how tall it really is!

Once they got to the top, it was all downhill from there...and then back up...and then back down...

It was a long, hot day...but we tried to keep a happy face on...

The next night Alex and Anne and Uncle Lee came to visit at the Great Wolf Lodge. Ian talked some smack and then beat the golf pro at his own game. You won't live that down any time soon, Alex!



Being left at home wasn't easy on the Wiener Dog ego. Still, I got to hang with my bro, Roscoe...so it's all good.

Til next time...

Peace. Out.

Back in the saddle...

You people have no idea of the kind of pressure I'm under...squirrels to chase, cats to intimidate, a Golden Retriever's bed to steal...And yet, I'm supposed to churn out pithy, witty, human-oriented humor 24/7...it's just too much to ask.

Still, I've been a bit remiss (okay, a lot remiss).

What's new for the Wiener Dog?

Remodel:

The Papa came out and framed in the fireplace. The Dad remembered his old jigsaw puzzle days and slapped some drywall on it...a little tape and a lot of mud can cover up those unsightly gaps!

Outside:

The weather's too nice for a dog to be confined. So, outside we went to work on the landscaping. Only the afficianado's will even notice the difference...still the grass never would grow under that tree (and no, it's not my fault).

Husker State Games:

Just when I think sports season is over and I won't be dragged to anymore hot weather events, it's bike race time again.

Who's more tired...Ian or me?!

Not a bad day's racing...two silvers. Have to leave something to strive for, right?

The race was not without it's attractions for the wiener dog. I met a new friend, Keila.

She's a long hair (no, not a hippy...a long-haired dachsund). We share a birthday even. Go figure.

Just because we're friends doesn't mean we agree on everything:

A guy's got to stand up for what he believes in, right?

Well, it's the big KC weekend. I think I'll be hangin' with my bro, Roscoe...good times, I'm sure. Ride the Mamba for me, little World's o' Fun peeps!

Peace. Out.

Can't leave well enough alone...

'Sup, y'all?
I'm a simple dog. I don't ask for much. Three square meals a day...a sneaker to chew on...trips outside to...well, you know...

It's a pretty nice life I've carved out for myself. And yet, the humans just can't leave well enough alone.

Here's what I mean:

That's right...it's a CAT! A cat, I say!!

Want to know how I feel about cats? I'd rather stand on the unstable arm of a moving porch swing than share my space with a cat!

It seems that everyone is calling it "hey, kitty"...I suppose if it's going to stay it should have a name. It keeps hiding from us, so the leading candidate for names is "Heidi." Please put your votes in the comments section and let me know what you think.

In a futile gesture to make up for the indignity, my brother, Roscoe, got to come over and play today. As Tate might say, "I bite you!"...

Do you think that this picture makes my ears look big?

I think I'll go pout in my kennel.

Peace. Out.

PS: If you happen to know a cat, I have a message for it: Fear the Wiener Dog!!

What a day!!

If that wasn't the biggest day ever...

Started out at the pond where I was unceremoniously dumped into the lake. Is this supposed to be fun? Can I swim? Yes I can. Do I want to swim? No I do not. If that isn't bad enough, I'll never get all the sand out!

Then, it's off to Uncle David's for his renown fireworks display. Can there be anything better than 9 kids all leaving plates of food and cold drinks sitting on the ground?

Let's see...did we cover all the 4th of July bases?

Rocket's red glare...check.




Bombs bursting in air...check.




Flag still there...check.




The cousins put on a truly disturbing display of air guitar skillz.


Just when you think it can't get any better...an ice cream cake for Kimmy's birthday!!
Here's a little shout out to CoCo for leaving your ice cream on the driveway! My plan from now on: follow you everywhere you go!


All in all, a good day...but I'm dog-tired.

In parting, a little note to Uncle David: If you find any wet spots on your carpet, let's just agree that it was probably YaYa, Tater or CoCo.

For now...Peace. Out.

Oscar

A Mouth Full of Metal

I know what you were thinking: the wiener dog is all out of ideas...he's tapped out after only a week of blogging. Au contraire, mon ami.

The Tigger returned home today a different and, perhaps, more scary person.

She left the house looking like this:

She returned looking like this:

Still a good-looking gal. But, you have to admit, to someone my size, a little frightening!

Here's a little shout-out to my cousins! Hey, y'all. You ready to blow up some stuff tomorrow? It's the Fourth! Swim 'til you can't stand up...eat until you can't breathe...set off explosions legally! We've waited a whole year for David's strobe-light-pharaoh-dance! Anything goes. After all, it's our country's birthday!! See ya tomorrow, peeps!

Peace. Out.

What up, dawg?

A pink font, you ask. I'm a dawg that's secure in my masculinity.

I think that Sage is warming up to me finally. Or, if not warming up, at least tolerating me. We spend a lot of time just hangin' out...you wouldn't understand; you're not a dog.

Elise and I had a lot of chores today...cleaning this and that. I'm telling you, it just wears a dog out. So, she watched Little House on the Prairie tonight while I took a well-deserved nap.

Oh, and by the way, the first person who makes a joke about "the hot dog in a bun," or anything to that effect, gets bit.

I'm working on my stair skills. Seems like going up is much easier than going down. Of course, you try jumping off of something taller than you and landing on a skinny ledge. Not so funny, eh?

Ian gets back from camp tomorrow...I'm thinking that the action quotient may go way up.

Well, I think that's it for tonight. Could I type more? Yes I could. But, I want to leave you in suspense...can't spend all my creative energy in one mad typing frenzy, now can I?

For now, Peace. Out.

P.S. Fear the Wiener Dog!

Power tools and puppies don't mix

So, tonight the Papa came out to help work on the basement...'bout time to get that going again.

It looks good, but routers and puppies are a bad combination. I'm not going to have power-tool-ear when I'm an old dog, so I hung out upstairs.

It only took about five hours to put the counter tops on (that's 4 months in dog years). Of course, the 45 minute pancake break may have drug out the process some. Still, they look pretty snazzy. So, a big old "Thanks" to the Papa/Dad/Tom.

And now, a brief word from Sage:

"Do I like this new dog? Not so much. Can I do anything about it? Not so much. So, my new motto is: 'If you can't beat 'em, join 'em."

Peace. Out.