Fanny the beagle

Before the other night I had my suspicions but I didn’t say anything. But the other night my sister and her husband brought this up out of the blue because (I bet) they thought they were the only ones who’d noticed this.

I STG this is true: Our dogs do ‘fake pees.’ We take them out, tell them to go to the bathroom, they do a quick squat, make the motion, only nothing comes out.

I’ve seen Fanny do this before and thought nobody would believe me if I said something, but since my sister and brother-in-law were the ones to bring it up about their dog I felt the shackles fall, and confirmed their sanity (at least on that matter).

Don’t you wish everyone was as accommodating and eager to please that they would actually ‘fake pee’ (or whatever you wanted – hopefully not fake pee) just to make you happy? Dang, I sure would love that…


-Ted Drewes open a bonus day – discovered while driving home from Target, source of my second cheap thrill…

-These cool handle thingies instead of a bag:

-Clean house (okay well except for the dining room table) for the first time in months

-Didn’t have to yell at Fanny a lot today

-Uploaded my 1st video (to Facebook in this case but coming here soon)

-Making some chicken and potatoes with my own homemade pesto

That’s enough. There were a couple more but you probably don’t care that I finally washed my area rugs (again, for the 1st time in months).

I’m so thrilled I hope I can sleep tonight.

So Fanny and Java “met” this summer. I’ve known Java’s people for a while but Java’s only about 10 mos. old. And big. She’s a Cattasomethingorother. Brown with little white spots and soft fur. Whatever.  Doesn’t matter.

She and Fanny run around at the (non-dog) park, play in our back yards, etc. (Note the locations have always been outside.)

So I took Fanny for a walk around the corner in a desperate attempt to burn off some energy off her crazy selfxto wish Janet & Greg a Merry Xmas, and we found out the hard way that Java is a bit – uh – territorial inside her home.

She attacked Fanny and didn’t just make her whimper or yell out, but really cry for a few seconds. She was shaking and everything…

Anyway, we got the eff outta there x left pretty soon after that and took a walk and all was well in FannyLand.

The next day I opened the door to find a bag with a treat for Fanny and the following note:

That note makes me smile every time I think of it, and judging by the wrinkles in it, you can probably tell I have been showing it to everyone.

I had to call the ‘animal disposal unit’ today.

Until last night, Fanny hadn’t proven to be the great hunter that Allie (the cat) had been.

Like I said though, that was until last night.

Fanny has a couple of “habits” that bug me:  she also barks at nothing (lack of intelligence being another thing that bugs me too I guess) and she licks a lot.

Example: My dad, was over here the other day and said he let her lick the back of his hand and timed it at 2 minutes. (Can’t imagine why I’m such a geek either)

Anyway, I digress.

She was barking last night and I went to get her. Well, she was outside barking at an acorn or something but there was a BIG dead rabbit on the doorway leading from the porch outside.


I got her inside but realized that she’d have to go out another coupla times before the night was over.

Usually I just leave the back door open or closed just enough so her nose can open it, but obviously I didn’t want a rabbit carcass presented on my  living room floor, so I had to firmly close the door each time I let her out and check every once in a while.

Not a problem when you’ve got a chew toy waiting for you though. Blood…mmmm

Anyway, called the ‘animal disposal unit’ when I woke up this morning today. Let’s just say there was a lot less to retrieve.

Once again it was dad and the girls who comprised “the unit.” They had me bring Fanny inside, and as I shut the door I heard dad saying, “…and that’s the liver.”

I heard one of the girls going “ewwww” (but she was looking, so she’s already a better person than I). I made the mistake of opening the back door It was almost bagged and Fanny got out again.

The dad said something like “where else are they going to learn about real life?” and I told him are you effing kidding me I had plenty of “real life” without viewing innards of a dead rabbit, thank you very much.

“Well,” he says, “they won’t get to take apart and prepare a chicken because we’re vegetarian” to which I responded, “and I won’t either because I just think they’re gross and only buy the breasts.”

Don’t try to one up me buddy, just take the dead animal, ok? Not that I’m not appreciative – far from it – but if I could stand the disgustingness wanted to learn more about real life revel in my omnivorousness I would’ve taken care of the damn thing myself.

So they cheerfully bagged it and went on their merry way, saying “Remember us at the holidays.”

Again I bit my tongue, instead of saying “the last time ‘remembered you at the holidays’ nobody ever acknowledged it, not to mention actually saying thank you.”

Between the dead rabbit and my tongue-biting there is a lot of blood around here today.

no gloves – that’s a real man

I’m not sure what this says about me or others or if it says anything about me or others but…

Based on my (totally anecdotal) experience, about 97% of the people who anthropomorphize their dogs don’t even know what the word ‘anthropomorphize’ means.

Does it indicate I’m just vocabulary-enriched but if I anthropomorphize my dog I can at least name it if I do it?

Does it indicate others aren’t vocabulary-enriched but they know they are anthropomorphizing their dogs, they just can’t put a word to it?

Does it indicate others aren’t vocabulary-enriched and they don’t know they are anthropomorphizing their dogs?

Does it indicate dog owners need to read more to develop their vocabularies?

Does it indicate I need to read less?

Does it indicate anything whatsoever?

I ask these kinds of questions because I think about them, but also sometimes at the – ahem – dog park when I (for example) see a herd of dogs running towards something (or towards nothing — they are dogs after all) I’ll say something like “it looks like the running of the bulls in Pamplona” and people look at me like I’ve just said it in Aramaic.

And I wonder why I’m not married and why the people at work think I’m so “offbeat” and “unique.” Maybe I should start saying “ain’t” more or something.


Fanny and I went to watch a friend’s child play soccer at the park down the street. Well, technically I went to watch and Fanny went ’cause she’ll go anywhere…

So the game was between the unofficial-school-of-my-suburb (which is NOT a public school, but which “everyone” sends their kids to) and another school (where friend’s kid plays).

Being that there were kids from my ‘hood there, I saw a gaggle of girls I know. They weren’t playing soccer and when they saw Fanny they ran over (of course) ’cause she’s so darn cute.

They passed her around like she was a doll or a baby or something and then (god I am so stupid sometimes) asked if they could walk her around the park.

I compromised with the girls to limit the walk to around the exterior of field, talked to their moms, locked the leash at about 5 feet, and off they went.

About 1/2 way around, I could see things were getting a little out of control. Fanny wanted to run, the girls wanted to “show” her things, pick her up, meander around like kids do, and before I knew it…

the leash had been dropped, and the Fanster was hauling as# across the soccer field. Through the game. Right through the game…

so “through the game” that they had to pause it while we did a recovery mission.

The parents, kids and I (who all knew her name by now) were all calling her, but (thanks to early training and heavy food rewards) she came towards ME when I called and once she finally heard me over the voices of everyone yelling at her to stop (duh-that SO doesn’t work).

She was almost to me when one of the dads (natch) stopped her in her tracks. I was actually a little ticked off because this was a huge test of her obedience, and she can run FAST and AWAY if she wants to…and she was thwarted mid-stream.

But I did the “walk of shame” to go get her and the game continued.

I let her dig a hole in the ball field just to get some of that energy out and give the city workers something to do with my tax money.

Note that I would kill her if she did that in MY yard. Well, in my garden anyway…

She is such an energetic little puppy.


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