Keeper's First Blog Entry

We interrupt today's regularly scheduled blog entry. Today, Keeper, our new greyhound, decided to post the first of his hopefully ongoing journal entry's. Today's topic: Keepers first day.

Date: Oct. 24, 2006

1:00 PM
Linda-Mom and I went to Oakville to meet my new owner Teresa-Mom. After a quick walk and some chatting back and forth, I was packed up into the Blue Car. It smelled like French fries, which is a bit weird. Linda-Mom started to cry, which was a bit sad. I will miss Linda-Mom. Her house smelled nice and she had a lot of great stuff to chew on. Especially Tessa-Owl, which I’m happy to find out I get to keep! Tessa-Owl smells a bit like Linda-Mom. I’m beginning to become an “old-hat” at this foster business though, so I’m starting to get used to saying goodbye.

1:00 – 2:00
Drove for a long while. Was listening to CBC radio. It seems like Madonna is adopting a third-world baby, presumably to match her new Fendi handbag, or something. Man, humans are weird!

2:00
Got to the new house. Teresa-Mom led me to the backyard for a long pee. Ahhh! How satisfying!
2:00 – 3:00
Inspected the new house. I must say the new house is really different than Linda-Mom’s house. Not bad though, and the backyard is a reasonable size. Lots of birds at the bird feeder, and I smell in the air a hint of rabbit and squirrel. That’s promising! Teresa-Mom showed me my new dog bed. Grabbed Tessa-Owl and laid down for a nap.

3:00 – 4:00
I’ll say this about Teresa-Mom, she gives a lot of good pets. Followed her to the kitchen and laid down for a while. More petting. Ahhh, life is good!

4:30
This dude walks into the house. Black Guy, kinda funny looking. Smells like French fries, which solves that mystery. Bonus, he too loves to gives pets!

4:30 – 5:00
Teresa-Mom and the Black Guy take me upstairs and sort of lavish me with a lot of attention. There is much petting and grooming, and a lot of saying my name over an over again. Turns out the Black Guy has a pocket full of kibble which he feeds to me one by one. Score! Hey, I grew up on a race track in Florida , I know an easy mark when I see one.

5:00 - 5:30
The Black Guy grabs a clicker. He feeds me a bit of kibble and clicks the clicker. He feeds me another bit of kibble and clicks the clicker. This happens again, and again, and again…. After about the tenth time I want to tell him: “Hey buddy, I get it! Clicker equals food. Now chill out!” But, you know owners. You have to indulge them for a bit in order to train them right. He gives up on the clicker after fifteen tries.

5:30
Finally! Some food. Yummy! Ate in my new crate. It’s got that “new crate” smell…

6:00
After another pee, Teresa-Mom, the Black-Dude and I bundle up for a nice walk. It’s kinda cold up here in Canada , and I would be freezing my gonads off, if I had any. (Yuk-yuk!) But Teresa-Mom outfits me with a doggy coat and we are set. It’s pretty interesting around here. There’s cars, there’s other dogs, there’s people a plenty. The owner’s try to cut the walk short, but in the end I convince them to give me another go around the block. We visit two parks, see more dogs. At one point I get confused and I mistake this big blowing leaf for a squirrel. How embarrassing!

7:00
The weird thing about owners is how concerned they are about poop. I guess they were expecting me to poop during the walk, but hey folks, I’m not ready. Talk about pressure! After the walk we go back inside. Every 10 to 15 minutes they take me outside again for a poop. Umm, still not ready, folks! Thankfully, they wise up and give it a rest.

7:00 – 10:00
Get the teeth brushed. Some more pets. A treat or two and then… a nice long nap. Ahhhh, it’s comfortable here!

10:00
Bedtime for the owners. The Black Guy and I go outside for the last time that night, which works out for me because I’m finally ready for a poop. Again with the poop fixation. I really don’t understand why owners feel the need to pick up the poop with a plastic bag. Makes wanna shout: “Hey buddy, I left that there for a reason!” Then when we go back inside, the Black Guy and Teresa-Mom have this discussion about the consistency of my poop! How friggin’ weird!

Later:
At first, I couldn’t figure where they wanted me to sleep. Then I figure out as they make up a spot for me in the bedroom. What the hell was wrong with the upstairs den? Ahhh, owners… Anyways, I think it’s gonna be okay living here.

Peace out!