Category Archives: Monday Moanings

Monday Moanings

[An open letter to the dogs on a Monday from a questioning huMom]

Dear Canoids,

Is it just because you’re ‘canoids‘ or because you’re too smart for your own good poodle selves that makes you do things in a contrary way designed to negatively impact the Ranch upright?

“W-H-A-T-E-V-E-R more are talking about?” said two innocent-looking faces. Umm, how about Exhibits A and B. We received about 6-9 inches of snow. In our mountain desert (aka Denver) snowfall is always calculated in a range of inches. Why? It’s called wind. Not the Wizard of Oz kind, but definitely the kind that can impact the measurement of snow. And in keeping with those ‘flexible’ numbers, you guys seem to take matters in your own paws. As in where you like to poop…you know in the deepest possible snow. Oh…and as far away from the sidewalk as possible. Usually just a few inches past the leash length which requires hiking out to the ‘dumping’ grounds. Snow in that mound is nearly always double in-depth and often the most desirable location for the 4-pawed tribe. Note previous tracks checking it out by the Ranch crew.

EXHIBIT A ~ Apart from the depth, this spot would have actually worked compared to Exhibit B.

But no, that wasn’t good enough for my sweet dogs who manage to take it to a ‘nother level, aka Exhibit B. They seem to assume there are extra points for doing it in places that are next to impossibly difficult for an upright to get in and responsibly clean up after. Seriously, Elsa…do you really have to go into the area where there are the lowest possible hanging limbs or shrub rose branches to stab me in the head and/or legs? Trust me when I say there. are. no. extra. points!! Demerit points, yes.

Exhibit B ~ Otherwise known as the bestest dumping ground.

Do I look like a 3-foot tall Hobbit who wears armadillo like armor?! Don’t answer that.

And what’s with this thing about ALWAYS having to scamper around behind my back after I’ve picked up after you, crossing the streams a la Ghostbusters style twisting the leashes, stretching the bum shoulder and providing way too many close calls at toppling the not-as-flexible as Gumby upright as she extracts herself from the dwarf forest? Do you know how hard it is to keep the leashes untangled in gloves with hands that are freezing, trying to hold on to some semblance of order, all the while juggling a poop bag whose smell could raise the dead that needs to be off loaded in a trash bin ASAP? Seriously, you never seem to have a problem with crossing in FRONT of me inside the house. WTH?!

Your loving huMom

Do your guys go ‘contrarian’ on you when it comes to conducting their number 2 business?

Live, love, bark❣

Monday Moanings

It’s a new Monday following a rough weekend. We feel a lot like this image. How was your weekend?

Live, love, bark❣

Monday Moanings

Not impressed with the idea of a new week? We share your pain. Hope your weekend was a good one. You adjusting to the return of standard time?

Live, love, bark! ❤︎

[Post script. Another day, another shooting. My thoughts and prayers are with the people of Texas and our country. And yet thoughts and prayers seem to do little to change this weekly phenomena. Something must be done. Any ideas?]

Monday Moanings – Post-Pawty Hangover

Elsa here. Had an amazing Gotcha Day weekend filled with ear scratches, treats and some interesting walk abouts but man, am I stuffed and worn out. Sam keeps saying I’m hungover (whatever dude) but with all the attention my peeps gave me, I think I’m a bit more than just a little tuckered out. Mom has been playing this song over and over and then giggles like crazy, so I’m beginning to think that maybe she agrees with him. What’s up with THAT?! Just wait, guys…when you least expect it….hi-yah!  xoxo, your favorite Ninja.

Hope you all had a pawsome weekend like we did. Happy Moanday.

Live, love, bark! ❤︎

Manic Monday

Elsa here. Hope you all at least had a good weekend. I was subjected to hideous torture and abuse. No, my mom didn’t punish me for eating another brand new sock, no it was much worse than that. Let me explain.

Mom took me for a ride. Normally that’d be a good thing because I like car rides, but I was all alone. The numskull brother didn’t get in the car with me. What’s up with that? Should have known something was up by taking a head count. So after 87 minutes of driving we arrived at a somewhat familiar parking lot. “Hmm, I think I’ve been here,” I thought. We got out of the car and started to go for a walk around the various stores. It was sprinkling a tiny bit but it felt good; for a change, the sun wasn’t beating down on my overly long black fur coat.

After a nice walk, we walked into the pet store where Rebecca greeted us. Uh-oh. Oh yeah, now I remembered this place. This is the fur-stealing store!!! Rebecca was nice but I was nervous. She’s always patient and gentle with me and lets my mom stay in case I have a seizure so she can work on making the nasty Epi-monster go away quickly. We went into the Chamber of Horrors Secrets and she got me up on the rack grooming table all primed to torture me. This recent photo doesn’t really show how bushy and long my fur coat was. Notice the panic panting tongue? Yeah, I’m stressed. I mean, wouldn’t you be. I’m standing there being a good girl while a fur theft was going on and my mom was helping commit the crime!!!  Mom forgot to take a good pic showing off my luxurious fur coat of the muppet fur, here’s one from the beginning of June before taking me on the ride to hell.


This is a few minutes into the theft.

Notice the ‘I’m not the slightest bit amused and almost pleading look I gave my mom. Believe it or not, she ignored me. The nerve! Kept saying some load of crap about ‘how good I was’ and ‘how pretty I was.’ Bah…I was being robbed and tortured right before her eyes and she’s blathering on about pretty? WTH?! So clearly pleading eyes didn’t seem to affect her cold, hollow heart, so then I decided to ignore her. She gets freaked out if I’m not fussing and fawning over her all the time. Then I moved to Plan B – playing hard to get. But alas, all she and Rebecca did was drag me over to the waterboarding area where the torture continued.

I still can’t fathom why she allows all this obscene torture. What kind of mother does that anyway, huh? Haven’t a been a good girl? Ok, so I ate a few socks and chewed up a few pairs of reading glasses along the way. Don’t we all? Normally you’d think uprights weren’t so vindictive, but apparently that’s not the case with my mom. I had to quickly move on to Plan C.


Switching strategies, I went into full on ‘poor, pitiful me’ looks. Clearly my charm and ‘je ne sais quoi’ qualities didn’t matter one bit. If waterboarding wasn’t bad enough, there was that terrible hideous machine that sounded like an airplane was taking off. I nearly lost all the remaining furs on my body I was so scared!

My terrified expressions didn’t seem to matter so this girl had to resort to more devious action. I thought I’ll just move to the back side of the torture tub where she can’t reach me with that foul hair dryer. Just like I do at home. Heh, heh.

Alas, foiled again. Guess I forgot about long cords, though given half a chance next time…maybe we can add that to the list of things I’ve munched in the past. Just kidding, mom. Sort of.

After two hours of torture and still not completely dry, Rebecca released me into my mother’s custody where she whisked me back to safety. I remember exiting the grooming shop with a “Best in Show” prance and my head and tail held high, never looking back at the people who ogled over me while mom paid for the torture grooming session. Seriously, you uprights pay real money to torture us?

When I bounced out of the car once we arrived home, I rushed in to share my tale of woe to the useless brother who is supposed to protect me. I distinctly heard him chortle as he rushed past me to greet mom, not even bothering to get the details of my ordeal. Just wait until next month when he goes to hospital. I’ll be first to “nah, nah, nah, nah, nah” him. It will serve him right too…couldn’t happen to a dumber doofus.

Now this is the face of a happy dog! Much like Martin Luther King, I howled, “Free at last, free at last, thank gawd almighty, I’m free at last.” I’m still a tad soggy here but with about 87 pounds less fur according to mom and Rebecca. They said something about making sweaters from all my fur. Pfft…you’d be so lucky.

My only question now is…what time is dinner? How do you cope with extreme ‘pawrental’ torture?

Live, love, bark! ❤︎


Monday Moanings

Thief, thief…I’ve been robbed…again!

No, the hoodlum neighborhood gang of squirrels didn’t break in the kitchen window. Remember how I waxed on about the Ninja a few days ago on her terrific socialization progress was going? Fast forward a few days and now I can safely say I have a juvenile delinquent.

So the story goes like this: We were running low on dog food. No problem, I can swing by the pet food store and pick up a bag. Nothing unusual there, right? While running around I thought, I’ll swing by the grocery store too since, well, we were out of EVERYTHING. Again no problem on its surface. Let me set the scene. It was one of the many days the weather was in the mid-90’s and traffic was the pits. I finally got home, a total hot mess and sweating like stuffed pig. After carrying in several grocery bags and the dog food in the house, I thought I’d take 5 to hydrate with some iced lemonade. The dogs greeted me like they always do, I sat down and began sipping the beverage and life returned to normal. Or did it? All of a sudden I realize I’m missing a dog. Cue the spooky music.

So I go into the kitchen and see the Ninja with her head deep in that shopping bag and notice the box of croissants is semi-open with one minor detail. Only two of the buttery delectables out of a dozen remained. I took the box out and put it on the floor to re-create the crime scene since I couldn’t open the cellphone fast enough to catch the actual proof. But I did capture where she was licking up errant crumbs from the floor.

WTH, Elsa?! Those weren’t quite the actual words I said out loud (think creatively) for which this face stared back at me.


As if it was no big deal. Well, I guess a girl’s gotta have her pastries, I know I sure enjoy them at breakfast. I chuckled and just chocked it up to yet one more thing on the ever-growing list of things this dog has eaten and didn’t think much else about it.

The next day I was preparing dinner, I pulled this out of the oven piping hot and turned around to grab the pizza slicer and looked back to see that thieving little brat on her two hind legs standing with her front paws on the stove (something she has NEVER done since her hips are a tad wonky and always assumed it’s uncomfortable to jump up) taking a bite out of the edge. 

I hollered at her and she scurried out of the kitchen and then quick as a wink, Sam reaches up to try the same thing! Are you freaking kidding me? “Dude, you are supposed to be teaching her how to be a dog, not some waif-like pickpocket character from Oliver Twist!” *Ugh*


While Standard Poodles originated in Germany, I think my little urchin appears to be identifying more with the commonly thought of origination country, France for which I don’t blame her. But 10 croissants in a lightning quick moment? Dang girl! Maybe she is a distant relative of our favorite French fur-iend, Phenny and channelling her heritage?

Bottom line…I think we need to schedule a refresher training session for Sam and as far as Elsa goes, I don’t even know where to begin. Looks like someone needs a summer job to stay outa juvenile detention and maybe a DNA test to put pedigree to rest.

Live, love, bark! ❤︎

Monday Mo(a)nings

Although many peeps in the US will have today off, those of you who don’t may enjoy this. Gawd knows there have been more than a few Monday’s where I’ve resembled it. Happy Monday.

Live, love, bark! ❤︎