A Family Tradition

So, this has been a long time coming.  And it was a big miss this weekend when my dad scribe did not take the opportunity to write the blog about family traditions since all his sisters and their dudes were here for a concert at Ravinia – which in a way has turned into one of their family traditions.  I of course was on my bestest behavior the entire weekend even when Sammy was misbehaving.  My aunt K and uncle S came in on Friday and they left us alone while they dined at Bluegrass.  Saturday the other two sisters and A and G came in – that afternoon was all spent getting everything together for going to the show which includes a lot of food, blankets, tarps (it had been raining), chairs and etc.   Us dogs once again were giving our assistance in the preparatory activities…totally being cool and only jumping in when an extra paw was needed.  So, in short, I get why there was no time for blogging.  However, the next morning, everyone was kind of just lounging around the front and back yards.  Aside from a HUGE breakfast my mother threw together (and we sat and provided everyone the space they needed to enjoy their meal out at the picnic table) they did NOTHING all morning.   Seemed like a perfect time for writing the Family Tradition (FT) blog…but no.  They packed up their cars around noon and took off with my parents in tow.  Thankfully, those two returned after an hour or two – hard to keep track of time during such a busy weekend – but rather than getting to work on the blog they laid down on the couch and fell asleep.  Granted, I am always – well almost always – ready for a nap (especially when it is raining) but I had just woken up from my nap with Sam while they were out and the next best thing to sleeping when it is raining is writing.  Boy were my juices flowing and my ideas and creativity bursting in beautiful, colorful arrays of words and imagery.   But alas, their snoring quickly put to rest any chance I had of getting my ideas on paper, so I just crossed my black painted toe nails and prayed I could remember what I wanted to say in this post.  And listened to the pouring rain and bent my head in…zzz…So, without further ado, I will begin testing my powers of recollection.  Ready?


Montana and Tempi “gardening”

Extended Break

OK folks.  We started this on Tuesday (or maybe Wednesday) and today it is Sunday.  Once again the old guy lost his focus and my storytelling was cut short.  The worst part about this delay in getting Family Traditions published is that so many other fascinating things have gone on in my life since.  Hopefully, I will be able to entertain you with these stories before long but I have come to realize that when it comes to this particular topic, I better strike quick – while the ol’ ion is hot (I am assuming this adage has something to do with radioactivity but not sure why you’d want to strike it).  So, rather than regaling my readers with little stories of each of the following photo montages, I will proceed with a simple caption.  IF, in time, I can capture my scribes attention long enough, I might provide a few amusing antidotes around the different sequences…

Dining Al Fresco:

Dog Doors:

In the Elephant with Sammy:

Backyard panoramas:

Backyard pano TBackyard Pano MBackyard Pano 2 T

Hotels (dad swears he has a great video of Montana jumping from bed to bed but his cataloging of photo skills lacks a bit)

Hurt Foot (aka – child abuse)

Fourth of July in grandfathers rocking chair in NM (shhhhh don’t let him know we were up there – we made sure we wiped up any fur that may have gotten on the chair 😉 )


What fence?

In the garden with Sam:

Saying goodbye to grandmother and grandfather:

(or maybe it was hello?)

Michigan T’s

This is a time honored tradition (just look at how the old guy – in the case Sammy – looks!):


The Snows of New Mexico:

And more snow:

Couches (maybe humankind’s best invention)

Peanut butter (a close second).  And by the way, note to parents, there is a message in the number of occurrences that each dog showed up in this sequence despite the fact that the photographic history actually has more instances of Mooner with PB jars)…

Sitting on the porch looking northeast-ish.  There are pics of Sam on the porch too but he tends not to look out this way.  Unfortunately, Banshee never got to sit on the porch but she was there when it was an actual pine forest.  I guess the take home here is enjoy what you’ve got! (?!?!)

(note: Sammy doesn’t have the feminine figure Montana and I share – despite what the vet says about my current 58.2 lbs of dog power!)

Helping with fall leaf clean up:

(note: there are only two pics of Montana and none of Sammy.  SO, who is the bigger helper!  THE TEMPEST!!!!)

Speaking of…supervising:

Taking a break (dad is the best at this 🙂 ):

And when he is not sleeping or taking a break, Sammy has been known to drink on the job…dad, does that remind you of anyone? And I don’t mean all the Coke Zero’s you currently drink :).  BTW – you might want to kick that habit as the powers that be at Coke headquarters just decided you’ll be cut off (see top story at the below link):


Looking into the never ending pit (or the well house):

The seat wall arbor (which I assume is like Ann Arbor only smaller):

Water art (Montana – left; Tempest – right).  Mooner had a certain flair that I am trying to adapt into my own work but I am also trying to incorporate my natural surroundings, eg – pigs, bones, water bowl pieces, fire pit…)

Sharing a blanket with our big brother…something we both enjoy(ed)!

Shredded dog bed.  Well that was Montana’s work (for proof see: https://montanamomentstrn.wordpress.com/2015/07/13/scarneckia/), I certainly wouldn’t do anything like that!  I am a princess so unless there was a pea under my bed I would rest peacefully.

Shredded Bed M

Looking under the fence…and boy does Sam and Banshee look like pups in that pic (bottom left)!

Speaking of under, what kind of dog would we be if we didn’t spend some time under the dogwoods?

And, although we naturally have awesome tongues, who doesn’t like to exaggerate now and again?

…but seriously dad, pulling our tongues, even if they are fake is a pretty nasty thing to do!

Then there is our theater style seating…

…which reminds me, isn’t there a new episode of Game of Thrones tonight?!!?

Gotta go,

The Tempest


Tricked and Ticked

So, first off, I have not forgotten about my oath to you that I would relate some of our family traditions to you.  However, I have had a hard time getting my Scribe/Dad to focus lately.  Even with a drive to Michigan this past weekend (4+ hours each way) he was unable to pay attention to me long enough to write down my insights into a word document – even when Mom was driving…or Khaleesii!  Anyhow, the old guy was a bust (Dad not Sammy – Sammy’s leg was fine the vet determined but there is still something bugging his back paw so he limps and gimps around and breaks my parent’s heart as he grins like the boy he is).  On another note, during our trip to Michigan I got to see almost all my scribe’s family.  Unfortunately, none of them sat down with me to write my blog either.  I did jump up in bed with Farfar, but even though he giggled like a school boy I was told by Mom!! Dad and Farmor – with no room for alternative interpretations – that this activity was not condoned (P.S. – I did try it again when we said goodbye 🙂 ).

Anyhow, this is not the point of today’s blog and I better move quickly while Dad is paying attention…ahem, I meant The Scribe.  Today’s story is about the day we left for our cross country travel to New Mexico…and it is entitled Tricked and Ticked.

Although this is out of real time, chronological order, I will start with “Tricked”.  This section is in reference to my Dad, still groggy from a good night sleep (he is not a morning person) coming downstairs as Mom and I returned from a jog and tick-fest (more on this below), to feed Sammy and I.  This particular activity includes dosing Sammy with his BID gabapentin and a QD (WAIT A MINUTE – this is Dad trying to show off that he is learning his new trade…I said the gabapentin that he takes twice a day and the Zyrtec he takes once a day in the morning).  So anyhow, instead of grabbing the Zyrtec, Dad grabbed another small, round, white pill in a bottle with green on it…my toenail clipping sedative (which bombed for that, if you recall, my faithful fans).  Mom was asking about packing the medicine, and wondering why the sedative was on the counter instead of the Zyrtec.  After some confusion, concern set in.  This eventually caused quite a stir as we went for our morning walk and watched Sammy yawn and yawn… and this had ramifications throughout the rest of Day 1 on our trip.  The real sign was at our second (?) stop in Iowa when Sammy didn’t jump out of the car, or even hop down with the help of one of our parents, but rather he kind of…well…oozzed out of the car and flopped down on the grass near the charging station.  Thankfully, Mom had a thought and leashed Sammy to a tree which allowed us sober ones to walk freely through the parking lot and surrounding areas.

Then we just chilled with Dad while Mom went into the store (even though Dad was sober we just lounged in the grass – this laziness may be a part of my problem in getting him to finish my other stories!).  Hee hee hee.



Luckily, by the end of the day, Sammy was coming out of his stupor and getting back to his normal, surly self.  And it all happened in Ogallalallalalalalalllla, Nebraska!

So that is about it for the tricked part.  And although Sam was a bit ticked off at being slipped a roofie before we left, the 14+ hours on the road was pretty uneventful (no squabbles from the back seat – and no bitch slaps.  THAT is a good story for another time.).

Now.  Back to the morning of our departure.  As I alluded to earlier, Dad and Sam are sleeping in the bedroom.  Us girls, being the industrious types, are up and on the move!  First stop, the supercharger around the corner from us so Khaleesii is in tip top shape for the road trip.   Well, actually, that was the only stop.  But while we were there we went for a jog/walk along the bike path that runs along side the Tesla shop.  Boy was this a fun time!   Not only did I get to spend some quality morning minutes (a whole hour!) with Mom, but I got to tromp through reeds, plow through water and overall have a blast investigating the natural world around me.   The sight of the water and reeds got Mom a bit concerned that I may have picked up some ticks but after a quick once over before we re-boarded our transportation she was satisfied I was clean.  ALL GOOD.  That is until we were an hour or two into our trip.  At this point, Mom felt something itchy on her scalp.  So when we are itchy (and this goes for both dogs and people) we scratch it.  To my Mom’s surprise (not because she was driving but what she came up with) the scratching produced a small squirmy insect (yep a tick) between her finger tips.  Since she is so calm, cool and collected we did not crash.  Instead, the affronting insect was relegated to an empty water bottle.  Then later in this segment of the trip, Dad had a creepy crawly itchy feeling on his neck.  No surprise here folks.  It was a tick.  This was not the same one but a new one who shortly joined the first one in the water bottle.  These events prompted a re-evaluation of the surface area of The Tempest. Lo and behold there were two more on my front legs!  YUCK!  My Dad and Mom (or whoever wasn’t actually letting Khaleesii drive them, was picking and plucking at me and Sam in a matter of seconds.  I was not amused.  “People,” I said, “I have got this covered!”  But they continued to nitpick me until all four little vampires were stowed in that one plastic water bottle.  THEN, at the next rest stop, I was given another thorough once over to ensure I was clean.  Sammy too – although he is a bit tougher since he insists on wearing that long coat all summer!  I still say it was that old boy that was harboring the bloodsuckers and unleashed them on us – whenever he decided he was bored.  I think this is true since not long afterward, he was stoned out of his gourd and couldn’t release any more even if he wanted to.  This didn’t stop both of my parents from freaking out whenever they had the sensation of something on them (this continues to this day, btw, as Mom took me back on that path before going to Michigan last weekend).  Good thing it wasn’t until the second day that we hung out in front of one of those “recreational” places they now have in Colorado – imagine the paranoia if they had actually gone into one of those places!  My Mom was just thinking of shade for the old man Sam, and boy did my Dad laugh at us resting in the shade all pathetic in front of the place.  he he he.

The Tempest


(in case you can’t see, the option checked on my shirt is INSANE!)

PS- It was great to spend time in Michigan but it was exhausting for me to behave that long!  And, yes, if you ask me and no one else I did behave for certain!  If you ask anyone else, well, you get the answer you deserve.  Sammy and Farfar also found it draining but at least my Grandfather and I could keep our eyes open!  Too bad my bed my FarMor got my shrunk since she bought it for me…I love that bed!



Said no dog EVER!!!!

Well actually, today Sam only went out to the grasses in the front yard on his walk with the pet sitter and then asked to come home to sit on his comfy Big Barker bed.  And then there was the time up on the land when my Mom, Dad and I went for a walk in the New Mexico mountains with me while Sammy stayed back at the house with Grandfather.  The plan was for him (Sam) to eventually go for a walk up to the well house and water the new Sequoia tree but by the time they got to the shed (about half way to the well house), Sam protested, turned around, and returned back to the house.  So you may be thinking that this means he would rather watch TV then go for a walk.  Well you’d be wrong.  Sam so wanted to go on the walk and was quite indignant that he did not go with us…and if that isn’t enough proof, they don’t have a TV – so there you go.

The same scenario played out a couple of other times while we were in New Mexico.  Each time Sammy wanted to go with us but had to stay behind.  We think he eventually got it that he was better off staying behind, especially when Grandfather had to go in the car to rescue…as I recall it was Grandmother (not me the princess hiding in the shade – no way) – but that is a story for another time.  Never mind that my Mom had to hoof it up the mountain really fast to get the car.  I guess Grandfather decided she was red faced enough he would come get us.  Wish she could run that fast with me in the am!


Tonight, Sammy is resting his sore back paw on his big bed outside.  Tomorrow we get to go to the vet to see what is up with his old bones.


Now, getting back to the original emphasis of this post, it is truly inconceivable that one would ever suggest one of us pups wouldn’t want to go for a walk.  And, just in case you are a fan of The Princess Bride, I DO know what that word means.  My Dad is a great teacher!

And it so happens, I was recently alerted to the below phrase by our good friend at Bluegrass, which has now become my Mothers mantra :).   She wants the t-shirt! And thinks watches should be added to shoes.  Just sayin’.  Me?  I think it should say Teslas and Big Barker Beds and steaks and salmon and treats and my menagerie and… (again, no product placement support.  Just things I love.).


The Tempest

P.S. – I am still working on the main text (aka photos, TJ) for Family traditions – just thought I’d pass along this particular insight I had while my scribe was listening!

Family Tradition – Prelude

So, we dogs like routine.  And with routine comes a certain sequence of events that are tried and true, fun and enlightening, scary and amusing.  These routines that become routine don’t seem to be routine because we convert them into:  TRADITIONS.  A future blog will provide you with photographic and maybe even video-graphic evidence of the traditions we hold true in our domicile.

But in this prelude to the future tome of treasures (assuming the scribe will focus for a bit), I will provide you with a few examples, without visual corroboration, of what I am talking about.  Now I anticipate that a number of you will be thinking: “no way” or “that surely is fiction” or “who would believe such nonsense” or “this is obviously fake news”.  But alas, all of this is true-ish.  Or, I guess the correct term would be truthiness (a term that a certain one S. Colbert coined).

But before I begin, I suspect some of my readers (my aunt E in particular) might read the title of this blog and think of an “old” country “classic” song by HW Jr. – which has the same first two words – in fact, when I just googled “Family Tradition” his song came up BEFORE my blog!   So, to be clear, OUR family tradition has nothing to do with his…at least us pups.  In fact, I can assure you we would never fall off a mountain side in Montana.  OK – we (Sam and I) have not actually been in Montana but we didn’t fall off the one we were on recently in NM!  AND…in her last letter from college, Montana assured us we could stay on the trails near her school – UM in Missoula (where else would you think she’d go to school?  After all, her namesake and her great grandfather taught there back in the day!).

Sorry for the distraction, but I really felt it was important to distance ourselves from Mr. Williams – especially if you’ve been following what his son is doing (or what he said about our former President).

Anyhow, back to the prelude.  This is going to have two parts – both of which occurred today (just to make the point that traditions aren’t all seasonal)

1A) TODAY 7:22 AM:   Returning home from our walk – just three houses away:

Sammy is with Mom.  I am sitting peacefully on the sidewalk next to Dad.  Lulu – the bitch down the street (HEY, she is a girl dog) is coming toward us.  I am calm, cool, AND collected.   BTW – Lulu gets on my nerves. But I remain stoic…a good girl!  Then, without warning, Lulu’s mom compliments me!

“What a good sit, pretty Tempi.”

Well, what was I to do?  Remain sitting there?  NO WAY!  I first did my low grade growl (grrrrrr) then went off.  And by going off I mean I totally lost it.  BARK BARK BARK.  Spin.  Thrust. Throw myself on the ground. Flop. Spin. Jump. Spin.

The neighbors walked off with their tails between their legs – at least from my vantage point.

From another vantage point it could have appeared that Lulu’s Mom looked at my Dad and apologized, and Mom walked off with Sammy saying “my dog is a good dog.”  Whatever.  I am certain I am right.

Why is this representative of a family tradition?


So there is Sammy…sitting in the car or walking along the block with his ever present grin and tongue hanging loosely out his mouth.  To set the stage further, the boy is looking GORGEOUS!   So what would any normal person do?  Compliment the old guy (although he actually was younger at that time).  What would any dog do?  If they knew the family tradition they would:

BARK BARK BARK.  Spin.  Thrust. Spin. Jump. Spin.  Maybe even throw in some low level (or extreme) growls!  Sammy never did flop or throw himself on the ground, although it would have been great if he did!  Can you imagine?

But the Spin.  Thrust.  Spin.  Jump.  Spin.  is exactly what Sammy would do whenever he was complimented for his good behavior or stunning good looks.  Hee hee hee.

2A) Tonight…Changing out of work clothes

Before I start let me say I never change what I am wearing.  When you are born perfect there is no need to do anything different.  Yeah, my parents will do things to my outfit like:

  1. brush me (yuck)
  2. take off my collar (something I wasn’t born with and do not care a bit for – which is different from Montana, Banshee, and Sammy who were/are very possessive of their collars)
  3. take off/put on my Whistle.

However, my parents are always changing clothes.

Time for bed:  Change clothes.

Get up from bed: dis-robe.

Get out of the shower: New clothes

Get home from work: change clothes.

and so on , and so on….

Tonight, while Dad was downstairs and Mom was getting their evening clothes ready (sweatshirt, t-shirt, shorts, etc.) I was on the bed chewing an antler.   Dad brought up the recently cleaned sheets and asked Mom what I was doing.  Apparently, the antler that was on top of the comforter ended up below the comforter…and below the top sheet…to rest atop the fitted sheet.  But for some reason, the antler was pushed aside and the fitted sheet got stuck in my mouth!  RIIIIIPPPP.  SHREEEDDD.  OOOOOPPPPPSSSS!  OH… that nice padding?  The mattress pad…

2B) Back in the day, Montana on top of the sheets chewing her toy.

In this particular case, Mom and Dad were sleeping beneath the top sheet and comforter (that also has a cover).  Dad was awoken by a strange rrrrpppppppp sound.  Montana sat there looking at him with the comforter cover stuck in her teeth and her toy encased in said sheet.  She of course was grinning like a fool because what is more fun than fighting your mortal enemy (or your toy) through something that you can shred!

For Montana, the story had a pretty good ending.  My far-mor sewed it all back together and it is as good as new (if you don’t mind scars).  I just hope she is able to fix up my handy work too when we visit Michigan next!

In conclusion:

Does having a conclusion in a prologue make any sense?  Probably not from your perspective but us dogs like to do things our own way sometimes (OK – all the time).

Anyhow, based on the sequence of how I retold these stories it may come across as  though I think I was the one to initiate these traditions.  But this is not the case.  I realize that I am walking in the footsteps of some pretty stellar canines.  With that said, I assure you that you’ll see I can bring a unique thing or two to the party!  Hopefully, any other dogs that join our pack will see the virtues of all of our traditions AND add their own unique contributions.

Betcha can’t wait for the photos :).

The Tempest



A Letter to Mr Musk

We are back!

Where did we go?

Well we went from Illinois where we live to New Mexico to visit our Grandparents (Mother’s side).

This isn’t my first trip there and Sammy has been there a whole bunch of times.  So why am I taking up space on the blogosphere talking about this you ask?

Well, first of all, there were a lot of adventures on our trip that will be the subject of future blog entries – like my love of shade.  But mostly I am writing because this was our first major road trip in our Model S.  And I’d just like to say that this vehicle is by far the most amazing thing I have ever ridden in! My first trip to NM was in the Honda Elephant which I loved.  When my parents got it – back when Banshee was recovering from her surgery, it was the best dog car on the market – based on a google search my parents did.  And it is a blast to ride in:

However, it is what they call an ICE car – which apparently means internal combustion engine which uses fossil fuels to power it and causes my parents to have to go down to the emission testing facility on a yearly basis.  This was true for there Honda Civic as well – even though it was a hybrid.  We got rid of that car – or rather we gave it to my aunt in Michigan when we got Khaleesi.  Did I mention that Tesla has a place where you can enter the name of your car?  It is so much more personal than a VIN – which she also has.  So why Khaleesi?  Well, that is a character in this show my parents watch but I am not allowed to watch (still being a puppy).  If you haven’t seen the show, Khaleesi is the name (or one name) for the Mother of Dragons.  She is smart, powerful, beautiful and … well… complicated :).  Just like our car…Awesome!

Anyhow, in comparison, I’d rather hang myself than ever go on an extended road trip in anything but an EV (electric vehicle).  Even in my beloved Elephant.



First off, I didn’t have to listen to my parents bicker when one of them got fatigued from driving – the driver assist feature – is a stress reducer as it is like having a proactive backseat driver that isn’t annoying but is helpful (my Mother’s words).  Secondly, it produces no arguments about where to fuel up since we just go to one of the Superchargers in their network and it is FREE!  So no price hunting for cheapest gas.   Thirdly, there are no emissions from the car itself – aside from my father and brother…HAHAHAHA!  That isn’t to say that the carbon footprint of these vehicles is zero as I have no idea where the actual power is coming from.  My Mom mentioned we actually could determine this, as it is an interesting topic (yawn… interesting to someone, I guess…).  However, if the grid was supplied by solar power – like my Grandparent’s house in NM – the cost to the environment would be negligible.  But alas, not everyone is hip to this notion and the possible jobs associated with the whole market.  With that said, if I am completely honest, this doesn’t really matter to me as my life expectancy is only about 10-15 years (and I am spade so no kids to be concerned with, other than Toni who… well… we have discussed her independence in a previous post) so it isn’t going to really impact my life style.  Or, come to think of it, my parents who only have pet children.  However, it seems like sustainability should be something you all should think of.

Anyhow, we ended up using about 1000 kWa of power on our total trip (Dad has more precise data that he may end up sharing with me at some point – the advantage of having nerd parents 🙂 which I will forward to you in a future blog if you are interested).   He also has data on the total trip time versus our winter trip in the Elephant – which in fact is at least a little longer but that doesn’t bother Sam or I as we get to go for walks or stretch out in the grass (final analysis pending; there is some grumbling and discussion about the impact of speed vs. charging time that has to be dealt with).


Which brings me to my final point.  I do realize that I am now older and more mature than when we went on our trip in December.  But I must say we (Sam and I) got in many fewer squabbles this trip than that one.  Why?  As I said, it might be that I have grown up.  It might also be because there is so much space in Khaleesi.  My parents put our collective daily needs in the “frunk” and all our other provisions in the (hidden) trunk.  Quick aside: For those of you who have never checked out a Tesla, this space is perfect for storing your golf clubs or dog toys and treats – just sayin’.  This left us pups with the whole back seat and the space behind the seats.  My parents, had the “two seats” upright and the “single seat” down so we had access to the far back.  However, we both stayed in the back seats for most of the trip*.  Unlike the Elephant, most of our fights were related to who got to sit by the AC vent in the back seat and who got to sit on the Big Barker cushion that was on the upright seats.  Speaking of which, my parents sent one of these cushions to my grandparents in NM for their house in the mountains which was very comforting to me.  I heard some yammering on about how it was intended for Sammy and his old bones, but us princesses need to have our beauty sleep…and the old guy is WAY beyond any help in this matter.

So, in conclusion, I would just like to thank Mr. Musk and everyone who made this car possible.  It is good for people – this generation and future ones – but most importantly, it benefits us dogs!  With that said, I recently saw a Model X at one of the superchargers.  I am thinking one of those might give me the perch that the Elephant gave me but with all the advantages mentioned above of an EV (That is a hint Mom and Dad 😉 ).  Or they could custom order a Big Barker that would fit across the whole back seat so we didn’t have to fight over the comfort it provides us!


IMG_6895 2



The Tempest

*= during the last segment (Davenport IA to home) Sam and I really got into it so Dad climbed into the back seat to separate us.  I took advantage of this situation to jump in the front seat.  I might have made my Mom’s hand fall asleep during this part of the trip as I rested my head comfortably, but there were no more fights.  Psst – Dad, that is a hint that you may want to spend all your time back there 🙂

PS – Product placement may seem apparent in this particular entry.  Well, it turns out that I just recently learned that this is a way to market my insights into the world at large.  I need to offer a disclaimer, however, that I have not (and do not expect to have) received any financial intensives from Tesla or Big Barker or any other companies for my comments.   Those two entities are ones I have come to support as their products are top notch.  With that said, I am not against commercial backing…after all Sam and I DO live in a capitalist society and is about time us canines capitalize on opportunities where appropriate (especially if we get steak or salmon from said opportunities).  Ha ha ha just kidding 🙂 – we are actually pretty well cared for.  And these photos are from their iPhones, just sayin’.






A Real Nail Biter

So, when your parents don’t take care of you as they are supposed to then you just have to take matters into your own paws (or mouth).

Since I have lived with them, my toe nails have not been trimmed as dictated by our good vets – and proper hygiene.  Now as you may have noticed, I have beautiful black nails (on all but two toes – a girl has to show off her style and independence you know) so in general I don’t like anybody messing with them.  Bear with me if I have already told you this story or parts of it but I think I should tell it as a lead in to the below video.  And even if you know the basics of the story, I am sure new details and perspectives will come out in the retelling…sort of like the variations composers often work on.

First, my parents brought me to the vets along with Sammy and asked if they would trim our nails while we were there.  Sammy, the fool, went with them and returned shortly with neatly trimmed toe nails.  I was next.  I graciously accepted their offer for a walk down the hall – expecting to get weighed or given some treats.  But oh no.  They were after my toe nails.  As my parents and Sammy sat in our room at the vet they heard this awful caterwauling (I personally hate any word that has “cat” in it, but I will work with them this once since it is what they chose to describe the noise).  Wondering what animal had been brought in with such devastating injuries they were hopeful that I would not get stressed out.  Shortly, the noises stopped and I was returned to my pack in the room.  My mom asked the vet tech what the commotion was all about.  Turns out it was me!  Nail trimming is not my thing he said – apparently he and a few others working together managed to get one nail trimmed – and the guy had a pretty good scratch to prove his point.

So the next step was for them to use a sedative on me (these drugs will come into play in another story soon) before bringing me to the vet.  In the meantime, Dad did try to clip a few of my nails as I was sleeping next to him on the couch.  This worked the first time but then I was on to what that little metal torture device was all about so every time since he has had them in his hands…well lets just say my toe nails are intact.  Once Dad pulled them out and I freaked so much I started shaking and Mom made him put them away.

So… speaking of which, the sedatives really zonkered me.  I was totally asleep at hom.  I could barely walk into the vets office on my own – swaying around like some old sot.  Again, Sammy got his nails done with no fanfare but even in my zoned out state I was able to fend off my attackers!  My parents and Sammy, sitting in their room, were a bit embarrassed by the noises…  Anyway, I say attackers – the nail trimmers – but couldn’t understand why the vet and vet techs who are always so nice to me and whom I adore seemingly wielded the little devils rather than saving me from their aggression.  But as I said, I was quite clear that this aggression will not stand, man!

My Mom really does not want to have to give me anesthesia to trim nails.  As a result, I must take care of my own nails, by running/walking on concrete – you may not know this, but it is the world’s most universal emery board.  Or, when things get desperate:

The Tempest