Coyote in my Blood

Recently, I was shown this video by my parents (one weekend morning when I was totally behaving).

And boy, I do like this guy’s style.

Kind of reminds me of myself.  In fact, here is a video showing some of MY moves!

I have other examples of butt biting but this was the best as it incriminated Dad :).

Best

Tempest

13 and holding

A quick note on this Sunday afternoon.

This morning the sun was out and it was great to be outside…then the clouds moved in but we powered through it and continued to enjoy our chance to be outside with the ‘rents.

As I mentioned, Sam had a vet appointment yesterday and I got to go along for the ride – and to get weighed, acclimated to the vets, yadda yadda yadda…but no puppycinos!  Big disappointment there.  But I digress.

While there, the vet said Sambuca was doing great for a 14 year old! (?)

My parents looked at each other as they were thinking he was only 13.

This is a sad thing since it means they are not paying attention to our blog entries…even though they are the ones transcribing them.   Makes one wonder…

(https://montanamomentstrn.wordpress.com/2016/12/13/are-you-one/)

The thing that is particularly funny is that my Aunt E had a cat (Beaver – that was her name not her breed) who was 13 years old until she died after spending 20 years on Earth.  How, you might ask, is this possible??!?  Turns out, my Aunt didn’t do the “Are you one?” birthday ritual with Beaver each year.  Instead, she chose to hold on to her youth (and that of her cats’) by ignoring the years that passed.  I gotta say that I am all for this way of approaching aging.  After all, what is a calendar year really?  Just an arbitrary metric for the passage of time.

OK. Yeah. It might also be significant in that it actually demarcates the time it takes for the Earth to orbit the Sun but not every calendar that humans have developed agrees that this is what should define a year.   Just saying that time is relative.  I think I am on to something.  Relativity.  Hmmmm.  Seems like this might be a profound thought.  I better put my thinking cap on and focus on this concept for the good of all canine-kind and man…

WALK? Really?!?

Woohoooooo!!  A chance to sniff.  Now that is where us dogs really excel.

More soon,

Tempest

Don’t forget to stop and smell what is around you everyday.

Or for you people out there, see the beauty of the natural world.

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Still not sure why you all are so visual when there is a world of smells you continually miss out on…but to each their own.

Oops.  That wasn’t so short a post after all….or was it? 🙂

 

 

 

The Squirrel Hunter

So, my Dad made a video of one of my worst efforts EVER in trying to catch a thief…and by thief I mean one of those cheeky monkeys (aka The Squirrels).   Those little trouble makers ate all of our cherries last year…but that was all before my time with this family but Sammy swears it is true!

Anyhow, over my short period living in my forever home I have not once caught one of these squirrels (or skunks, or possums or…) since we have this barricade of a fence around our yard.  Anyhow, Sammy assures me they are catch-able …but those are stories for another time.*

So anyhow, here is the video my “scribe” – who might be canned soon – chose to use to display my hunting abilities.  I am sure I will find some better footage soon that will more accurately represent my true capabilities.  In the meantime I hope you enjoy this farce of a video:

Special credits to SSPU’s for this video and The Nightstalkers…looking forward to seeing you again.

The Tempest

FYI – Sammy and I went to the vet today to check out some of his bumps.  Good news…all were benign…although the stuff they pulled out of his cysts were GROSS (although not at all stinky like the stuff that was extracted from the scribe when he was in grad school…this is not a story I’ll relate in MY blog!).

here I am watching the whole scene:

And here we are going home:

And as you can see yourself, my parents once again over reacted as the old guy is just fine…

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But I must say, it gives me comfort that they care for him so MUCH since I am beginning to understand that this may just benefit me at some point.

Learn from the mistakes of others. You can’t live long enough to make them all yourself.

                                            Eleanor Roosevelt

*these stories may not be posted due to a lack of video evidence.   No slander is intended in any of these posts.

 

 

 

 

The Stuffed Menagerie

 

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I actually struggled with what to name this post…but I ended up going with “The Stuffed Menagerie” rather than “My Cardboard Footprint” (above photo) because of the following quote:

“Yes, I have tricks in my pocket, I have things up my sleeve.  But I am the opposite of a stage magician.  He gives you illusion that has the appearance of truth.  I give you truth in the pleasant disguise of illusion.”

Tennessee Williams

But we did end up filling up a couple of recycle bins over a couple of weeks as Amazon continued to drop off box after box of stuffed animal dog toys… FOR ME!  It was like everyday in March was Christmas.  It may not have been March but it seems like a long time ago and I’ll get back to that later.

As you can see from the last few photos I knew these were for me and wasted no time in grabbing my favorite from this particular shipment…the colorful fish.  Like my sister before me, I LOVE fish.  Not that I am a pescatarian or anything (still love a good steak) but I’ll never turn down any seafood as you’ll see in a bit.

“How beautiful it is and how easily it can be broken.”

-TW

Once again, Mr. Williams knew what he was talking about…that fish was not long for this world once I got my paws on him.  You may  notice that he is absent from the group photo below.

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Since this photo was taken a number of these animals have met their fate but first here is a clip of me and Sammy getting to see the whole crew together for the first time..

In case it wasn’t obvious, all these stuffed toys are MINE!!!!

Since then, my monkey lost it’s face, my prawn is gone (and it wasn’t a part of the boil my parents went to recently), my first T-rex lost a head, the second one is a lot skinnier than when he arrived, my triceratops is now a non-ceratops, my razorback has no nose, my horse and mastodon have been largely ignored (but they should not feel safe), and my meercat Toni is still my baby.  She sleeps in bed with me and I am asking my parent’s to give her her very own room since she is growing up so fast.

After the big introduction I picked out the prawn and ran downstairs (shown in the video above).  When I was done with him I returned to the bedroom but the rest had disappeared.  I was worried for a bit but then they started showing up one at a time.  That is actually a bit imprecise as I am the one that gets them.  See, whenever I am worked up and NOTHING will work to calm me down one of my parents will take me upstairs, open the closet door, and let me pick out my new favorite toy.

It is very dilapidated now…  where did all my toys go?  It might be that I trained my parents :).

I’ve had a lot of training to do – like in this instance with the first T-Rex.  He tried going outside without my permission.  “Bad TR!” said I.  “Get back inside now”.

 

“The scene is memory and is therefore nonrealistic. Memory takes a lot of poetic license. It omits some details; others are exaggerated, according to the emotional value of the articles it touches, for memory is seated predominantly in the heart.”

-TW (again)

Sometimes when I come downstairs in the morning or when I get let out of my crate in the afternoon I walk around the house and it looks like a petting zoo or Jurassic park with all the dinosaurs and animals strewn across the floor.  Other times I think it just might be a post apocalyptic scene with all the death and destruction.

The Tempest

Surrender

“Your Mommy’s all right
Your Daddy’s all right
They just seem a little weird
Surrender
Surrender”

Cheap Trick

So this evening my parents did not come home on time…it being Wednesday and all they went out for dinner at Bluegrass (BG).  So what does that translate into?  Trouble with a capital TEMPI…and a little sammy :).  And cheap tricks are my forte so here we go.

First of all, our scribe used the spybot to determine we escaped shortly after the pet sitters let me out of my crate.

Figure 1A: Earlier this week; sleeping dogs.  Figure 1B: Today; no dogs.

Aside from not being where we have patiently waited all week during the afternoon (the kitchen/dog room) we were behaving beautifully.

Sammy on his bed on the floor.  Me on my leather throne.

Then I realized spybot was at work again so I gave him a pop in the mug causing him to retreat into the TV stand…

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…thus cutting off his angle for seeing us in our respective comfy spots.

Problem solved…at least until I lost my concentration due to some activity at the window.  This just so happened to correlate with when my parents arrived at BG and started their covert ops again.

And then all of a sudden, the damn thing started talking at me and boy did it sound like my parents.  Sammy and I investigated.

Then I went right back to what I was doing…eating our new bed:

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Then Diane, their good friend who works at BG, got on the spybot.  Boy am I looking forward to meeting her…   As soon as she talked through the spybot I behaved:

Are my parents laughing in the background?  But I couldn’t find her and my parents were not home yet so I got a bit depressed:

And for those who are wondering, the lampshade is of course always askance – my parents aren’t what you’d call up on the whole feng shui thing.  They are, by the way, just a little bit more than weird.

So the question on the table is: when WILL our parents just surrender and let us have the run of the house since those gates are…well…useless.  At least when my energy levels are sufficiently engaged.

The Tempest

-Lest you think we were flaunting our escapades, once our parents were home we were appropriately conciliatory.

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Amo, Amas, Amat

Recently I told you about my unofficial middle name.  However, my parents also often go with this sequence of names when Marie isn’t sufficient for encompassing my perceived trespasses:

Tempi, Tempest, Temperance.

I hear this a lot.  However, there is usually a lilt of amusement behind it.   Kind of like they actually think what I am doing is cute/funny but they know they have to correct the behavior.  Like when my Dad was about my age (pre-teen) and was told to pick up the dog poop in the backyard.  Instead of collecting the aforementioned droppings and placing them in the appropriate disposal receptacle, he took a shovel and flung them over the fence into the neighbor’s yard.  FarMor caught him doing this and laughing to herself about the little imp she had on her hands took an official-ish tone with him and made him retrieve not only the flung poop but also any that the neighbor’s dog may have left behind.  This turned out to be a valuable lesson for Dad about flinging crap.  I am not completely sure I understand what he took from this but it basically was something like “even if the neighbors have crap they have to deal with you better not get involved or you’ll be picking up after everyone.”

It also is kind of like the “alpha-humans” are trying to conjugate my name like they would for their basic verbs in Latin class… or French, Spanish or German….

Which  reminds me of a funny story I heard in Michigan not too long ago.   Apparently my Michigan Grandfather had been taking German in school back in the day and needed to pass in a order to graduate.  His German Prof asked him if he planned on taking more advanced German to which my Grandad replied: “if I pass this final I’ll never speak it again.”  the professor pleased to hear my Granddad did not wish to become fluent in German, smiled and said: “IF you promise never to return to my class I promise you a passing grade.”  DEAL!  And the rest is history.  He married a Danish woman, had four kids, never spoke German again.  He did learn enough Danish though to be thought of as witty by his in-laws which is remarkable because none of his kids think that of him (JUST KIDDING – that was me being impish!) He even reverted to Danish when being harassed in Prague (Hvad sagde du ?)  – but that is a whole other story.

Anyhow, the title for this post should probably be:

“hablo, hablas, hablamos”

…if I am really going to make fun of my AA granddad.  After all, this whole blog is about us dogs getting our chance to speak, so this would be a pretty appropriate verb to conjugate. :).

Veni, Vidi, Vici

Another sequence of words that isn’t really a verb being conjugated but sounds like it could be but is actually something dudes said way back in ancient times that means: “I came; I saw; I conquered.”

Which is my philosophy of life.

Look out world.  Here comes The Tempest.

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#TT

ps- the title of the blog is what I really hear when my parents conjugate my name!

Side note:  Temperance it turns out is a particularly funny name they chose use as the “plural ,formal, past-tense, possessive, blah, blah form of speech”.  Why you ask?  First off, it is the name of the lead character in one of the shows we binged watched not to long ago.  Temperance Brennan …aka BONES.  And if there is one thing I love it is bones (see ps note).  Secondly, temperance is commonly used for someone who abstains from drinking alcoholic beverages.  Something that isn’t me. 🙂

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Middle Name…Marie

So here is a funny short story from the not too distant past.

When I am doing something that my Mother sees as particularly bad she tries to get my attention by calling me by my real name: TEMPEST!

If I keep going she pulls out a middle name I didn’t even know I had…I mean it isn’t on my birth certificate or anything.  On those occasions I get: TEMPEST MARIE!!!

So awhile back such an instance occurred while we were spending time with our Grandparents (FarMor and FarFar) in Michigan.

Mom: TEMPEST MARIE…STOP THAT!

FarMor: Marie?  Why do you call her that?

Mom: You know how everyone with the middle name Marie causes trouble – like (my cousin) ‘E’ and (her daughter) ‘e’.

Dad:  uhhh…thinking to himself… oh no – really?

FarFar (Grandfather):  he he he

FarMor: My middle name is Marie.

Mom: (in her head) DOH!

Mom: (out loud) Really?  I had no idea.

FarFar and Dad (sitting on the other side of the room):  HEHEHEHEHE.

By that time I was with FarFar and we continued to have a real good chuckle over that one.

Strange thing is she still calls me by that name but not while we are in Michigan …probably because I am always so well behaved when I am there :).

Tempi “Marie” The Innocent

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