Crazy Charlie Stole My Csinzka

Charlie with my girl

Csinszka

Hello, oh no, crazy Charlie is here again and he's stealing my girl!

My heart is broken. How can she like a younger crazy pup like that?

I feel old all of sudden. They will not stop playing. And my lady's not getting any work down. I can tell by the way her head is spinning around.

Thank god its only for one night.

Or so I thought...

Coda the Cuckoo

Oh this guy was nuts. He never stopped moving or napped at all. I mean all day long, pacing back and forth, up and down, panting, moving, panting, jogging, walking. Ugh, it drove me crazy. He must have gone outside ten times at least in an hour.

“What is your problem? Take a nap. It’s morning.”

“Dude. I don’t know. I can’t control it. It’s like my body just won’t chill out. I have to run, play, do something! I’m so bored. So bored, bored, bored…”

He seriously bounced around the house like he had pins on his paws.

Really? Do I have to do everything?

“Look.” I got up off the cozy couch and walked over to the big box full of toys. "We have an awesome collection of toys – lots of stuff to chew on and shake and squeak."

“There’s nothing there.” Coda started pacing again. “I already checked.”

“What? Are you crazy?” I pulled out every one of the toys on the floor. One fuzzy bear in particular had a great music box inside. 

“Listen,” I said throwing it in the air. “Just listen to that thing that’s buried in there somewhere.” I shook it around a bit in my mouth to show him. “Don’t you just want to get at it?”

“Hmmm.” He looked at the fuzzy bear. “No, looks too furry.” Then he nudged it with his nose. “And why is touching that weird fuzz fun?”

“You’re crazy. Look how crazy fun this is.” I plopped down on the sofa with it and started sucking, trying to get into the zone.  Ahhhhh, a good sucking feels so darn good… so relaxing…just close my eyes and suck, suck, suck away.

A yellow ball hit my head just as I closed my eyes. Oh, for the love of god...

“Let’s play with a ball!” Coda barked way too loud and excited, jumping around, pushing it back to me with his paw. “Come on! Come on! Come on!”

Stifling a yawn, I looked at him thinking this guy was beyond crazyville. “Um. Dude. No. Not going to happen.” 

Poor nutty kid was disappointed, but I went back to my squeezing and sucking. I picked up my own bear though. He’s right the fur on the other one was too fuzzy, despite the awesome music. I’d rather have soft fur and a squeaker than fuzzy funky music any day.

That crazy kid didn’t give up though. Gotta admire his tenacity.

“Oh, give me the ball sonny.” Granny Jordan said in between puffs. Just watching Coda exhausted her.

Coda was so happy he moved it with his nose and wasn’t at all disappointed that Granny just let it hit her paws. “You got it Jordan!” he said jumping up and down, beyond excited.

“Yes,” she huffed and puffed. “I got it.” Then she plopped over. “Now come over here and lay down and shut up. I need another nap.”

I knew there was a reason I liked that old gal.

She looked at me and kinda smiled. I smiled too and went back to my sucking.

God, the dawgs in this house these days...

Paws out.
HH

Crazy Charlie the Doodle Head

Charlie Boy

Apparently Charlie was what society chicks call a Golden doodle. My Lady loved his “soft white fur” apparently, and pet him way too much. I got kinda sick of watching it to be honest.

I called him Charlie the Doodle Head. He was big and fluffy with long hair that covered his eyes and just looked plain dippy.

Granted this boy was still a teenager, but good god almighty he wasn’t altogether there upstairs. No matter how many times my Lady told him NO and Get Down he just looked at her with his tongue hanging out. He did EXACTLY what he wanted at all times. He didn’t understand anything – nothing.

Charlie on my bed

Bedtime was the worst. More than ten times she tried to get him off the bed. “No Charlie, No Charlie, DOWN, SIT, STAY…”  He just completely ignored her and got right back up. He actually had the nerve to look at me and say “Um, I think your Lady isn’t very bright.”

“Dude.” I said with as much patience as I could. He was in my bed now, rolling around and getting his white hair all over my blanky. Yes, I have a blanky, deal with it. And no, I don't like other pups fur on my blanky. “Get off the bed. You sleep on the floor.”

“No,” he said shaking his head. “I don’t. I sleep on the bed.”

My Lady tried in earnest for the next fifteen minutes and finally just gave up. “Sorry, Hamish.”

“See?” He said, panting, his tongue hanging out. “I told you, I sleep on the bed.”

“Shut up, don’t touch me, and go to sleep.” I growled to let him know I meant business.

“Dude.” He said. “Chill.” Then he flexed his legs out like he was a ballerina or something. Damn designer dogs.

I stuck my head under the pillow and tried to forget he was there.

Charlie was the most paranoid pup I had ever met. I’m talking seriously psychotic. He was convinced there were bombs hiding in anything metal, or in the closet or in the front door, or in the washing machine. He was so scared something was going to get him my Lady had to hold his food bowl up for him to eat. He sucked it down so fast he choked most of the time. And the bowl had to be plastic. The metal ones freaked him out.

If someone opened a door, or hit something metal, or moved a shoe near him, he dove on the ground with his legs spread out like he was trying to run for cover.

My lady had to put a leash on him to get him to go anywhere in the house. Thank god she gave up on the idea of taking him for a walk. I think poor Charlie boy would have had a heart attack.

He had absolutely zero concept of personal space and thought nothing of climbing all over everyone or anything. And then he would stare off into space and growl at something only he could see. My Lady was convinced there were ghosts in the house until she realized it was the closet door he was growling at.

I tried to ask him about life in Crazyville, but he just looked at me like I was the one who was nuts. 

“What makes you so sure there aren’t any bombs in there?”

Um. Ok. “Well, son.” This was going to be fun. But he looked at me so terrified I just didn’t have the heart to scare him worse. Poor thing was certifiable as it was. “Charlie. There are no bombs in this house.”

“How do you know?”

“Because Charlie, I live here. Don’t you think I would know if there was a bomb planted in the water bowl? Or in the washing machine? Or if one of the doors that I walk through all the time was rigged?”

Roxy even tried to help. “Charlie. You can smell a bomb. You’re a dog, remember? Do you smell a bomb?”

We gave up. There was just no hope for poor Charlie. What possibly could have happened to that pup in only one year of life to make him so psycho paranoid?

Roxy shook her head. “He wouldn’t have lasted two minutes where I grew up.”  You could tell from the sadness in Roxy’s eyes that she had had a really tough life. I guess it explained why she was so attached to her Lady.

Roxy’s lady came that night, so she was so ecstatic at the site of her that neither one of them could stop crying. Hell, my Lady had tears in her eyes, too. Her lady finally took her to her car and left.

I went over and sat next to my lady, feeling she could use a little Hamish time.

“I’m so glad Roxy has a good life now.” She sniffled some more. “It just makes me wonder about you, my friend. She gave me a big sloppy kiss on the forehead and rubbed my ears, “I’m just so thankful you are with me now.”

Me too, I moaned and sighed happily, pushing my head into her arm, appreciating her kisses. Me too.

Super Sad Roxy Girl

All the laughter died when Roxy, the saddest pup in the world arrived. As soon as Roxy’s mom left it was like every sprocket in her brain exploded. My Lady was beside herself trying to calm her down. She kept looking at me for help.

“Hey, I can’t help the crazies. I’m a dog, not a shrink.”

I barked at Roxy to chill out, but that just made Roxy scream out some more. 

“She’s gone! Gone! Oh my god! Where did she go??? Where where where??? How could she leave me!!! Oh My God I’m Going to Die!! My Life is Over…”

And that went on for over an hour.

Little Penny sat trembling in the corner near me. “What’s wrong with her? Why is she so upset?”

I could only moan loudly. “She’s crazy in the head.”

Finally my smart Lady gave Roxy a little pink pill dipped in cream cheese. I could tell by the haggard look on my Lady’s face that now was not the time to think about scoring some cheese for myself. I’m not the crazy one here.

In time, Roxy calmed down a bit. Only after My Lady sang a bunch of songs though – really loud and seriously off key. When she started on the Opera I chimed in. Penny buried her head in the pillows. I think the pink pill finally started working, because it sure as heck couldn’t have been our god awful singing, but finally Roxy calmed down.

Roxy was totally fine the next day. Although she got a little distraught after Penny’s Mom came and took her home. I guess she thought her Mom was coming too. My Lady seemed strangely down after the little one left too, for some weird reason. She better not be getting attached to these pups!

I tried to cheer her up and sit on her lap but that just made her yell, “No Hamish! Not on my laptop!!”

Hey! Isn’t that why they call it a “lap top”? I may be big, but my backside fits the top of any lap. Believe me I’ve tried it – a lot – and it fits perfectly.

That night my Lady spent a lot of time in the kitchen, as she’s prone to do when she’s got something on her mind. I woke up from a nap sniffing the air smelling something mighty good going on. I padded quietly to the kitchen so as not to disturb crazy ‘Foxy Roxy’ as my Lady now called her.

I stuck my head and sniffed – woohoo! My Lovely Lady was making the best thing in the world! Yummy, yummy dog biscuits! Woo Hoo! I started drooling just standing there watching her pull a tray right of the oven, right in front of my nose…

“Hamish NO!” she yelled too late.

I slurped one up HOT HOT HOT and dropped it. HOT!

Damn if that dirty Roxy chick didn’t slurp it up and run off with my biscuit!

My Lady ran after the little thief, picked up the treat and started blowing on it. Then gave it to her. Gave it to HER. Just like that. My Lady gave my biscuit to that crazy bee atch.

I was so not happy.

Jumping on my bed, I put my back to the door. Who cares about any dumb biscuits anyway. Sniff. Moan. Sigh. Life sucks.

“Come here, Handsome.” My Lady came over and hand fed me a beauty of a biscuit, much bigger than the other one was. I savored every bite. She rubbed behind my ears and told me she loved me.

Life was good.

Then Charlie arrived.

10 Reasons Adopted Senior Dogs and Cats are Great for Kids | petMD

10 Reasons Adopted Senior Dogs and Cats are Great for Kids | petMD

Hilda

Beautiful Hilda

My lady loves Ms. Hilda - all five tons of her.

I had to laugh when she tried jumping on the bed, missed and rolled backwards like a bowling ball. My lady was shocked, but I had to chuckle about it. In secret though. Ms. Hilda could kick my butt. I'm smart enough to know not to tick her off. English Bulldogs are tough cookies.

And smart too. When she wants the couch, she pretends like she's playing with a toy. The young ones always fall for that. As soon as the couch is free, she jumps into the spot. She knows what she's doing.

Although I think her sense of smell is a bit off. She keeps trying to go to the neighbors house when we came back from our walks. My lady has been apologizing to the neighbors all week. Hilda insists on dragging us up every sidewalk. My lady keeps telling her it's the wrong house, but when Hilda she has an idea in her head, there's no stopping her.

Needless to say, Ms. Hilda sleeps in the bed now. Yeah, she knows what she's doing.

Lovely Lady Jordan

Lovely Lady Jordan

No, you cannot seriously be thinking of having her here. God, really Lady? You have lost your mind entirely.

“I have a huge soft spot for seniors.” My Lady said to Granny’s owner. Why did they look at me when they said that? I may be older, but I am not that old. That girl has to be at least a hundred and twenty or something! Come on!

Jordan barely made it up the three steps into the house. Seriously, my Lady had to carry down the two steps into the back yard. She fell down every couple of feet. Didn’t stop panting for two days. It was enough to drive anyone mad. 

My Lady LOVED her though, which kind of ruffled my fur a bit. I avoided her completely. She smelled funny, her nonstop panting was irritating as heck, her constant falling down shook the house, and my lady spent way too much time talking to her and brushing her fur. I mean she really, really LOVED her. Jordan did have pretty fur though. Very long black hair that was kind of silky.

                 

“Thank you.” She said once when she caught me staring at it.

              

“For what?” I asked a little embarrassed that she caught me.

“My fur is pretty.” She huffed. “I used to be a show dog you know. Or could have been, if my owners ever thought to show me.”

I rolled my eyes. Great the granny was vain.

“Well, why didn’t they show you?” I had to ask

 

“Because," she said it like I was a little dumb.  "My lady decided to get married, have three children and add on two more dogs. There just wasn’t time.”

“Where is everyone now?”

“They all went on vacation.” She said it kind of sadly looking out the window. “I’m too old to go.”

Great. Could I be a bigger jerk? Poor chick.

“Sorry.” I said. “This place is better than any vacation, though.”  

“I like Ms. Julie. She’s kind of a big dork, but she’s so nice to me.”

“Is that why you insist on sleeping on the floor right next to her?” 

“Yes. I’m protecting her from the door, of course.”

“Yeah, that’s cool. Thanks.”

I guess I protected my Lady from the window? I hadn’t really thought about it, to be honest. I just know the ex-boyfriend moved out and I took his place on the bed. The super, ultra comfy bed I might add. The ex wasn't such a smart guy. Leaving a prime bed is right up there in dumboland like saying "no" to treats. What smart guy does that? Just sayin.