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Tamara Allen

All is quiet on a Friday night at Casa De Chaos.... until some ginormous racoon runs across the front deck, and scoots up the tree. Our windows are fully streaked with nose prints. Dogs are in full whine mode now, making little paw fists, hackles up, beating on windows. Little furry thugs. Meanwhile, the raccoon on steroids gives me the stink eye when I flip the lights on outside.

Photo - Something other than red dogs on red dirt.

Amalia Roma

Oh lord. We've reached a new stage of basenji.

After being greeted at the door (!) by the trio three days in a row, I think I've solved the mystery. Because I've shored up the gate, have a tall x-pen against the gate and held in place with a wooden bench and two cases of bottled water, I don't see any other scenario.

And I know KNOW it's Newton. He's become a wise old boy. He's lifting up the handle to the gate (which he's never done in >9 years, same gate) and pushing the x-pen until it gives enough to let him into the living room. Where the comfortable couch, recliner, and papasan live.

Today I came home my usual route, through the BACK door to which they have access normally. All three greeted me. I thought, oh thank goodness my latest plot to foil his escape has worked. Nope. I see the gate closed but not latched (as if they closed it behind them to hide the evidence), x-pen pushed out ever so subtly. And a grin of centuries on Newt's face. Gotcha mom!

"Dear Tribe,

Day number 5. My captors continue to attempt complete confinement. They seem to be abiding my the Geneva convention and overall, I can't complain about having food, water, and a warm soft sleeping area.

What I cannot get used to is being expected to exist in this small space of a mere 400 square feet. I yearn for space. My heart aches for that extra 300 square feet that includes the couch and papasan. I have taken to breaking out of my cell and abandoning my female companions just for a bit of couch time. I feel bad about leaving them at times, but the trade off is so much better. But wait, crap, one of the captors is home. Uh oh. I'm trapped. I can't get back into my cell!!! Oh no!!! They're on to me!!!"

Yvonne 't Mannetje

Lola!!!!
HAPPY THAT MY 4 LEAF CLOVER is still intact; our happiness is still there.

Lottie ELizabeth Hotaling Looks like Cooper paid you a visit!

Yvonne 't Mannetje Its all in the family ?

Lottie ELizabeth Hotaling Yes, my darling little boy is a one man wrecking crew!!

Yvonne 't Mannetje it took Moyo about 5 years to grow over this wrecking ?

Lottie ELizabeth Hotaling Cooper will be 5 in January.....

Yvonne 't Mannetje Soon.... ??

Lottie ELizabeth Hotaling Dare I hope?!

Yvonne 't Mannetje Or get another puppy; when Lola came he stopped.

Lottie ELizabeth Hotaling love that idea!!!

Richard Reynolds

I was asked over the weekend why I always wore a flat cap. My mentor in hounds was the tenth Duke of Beaufort whose "call name" was Master.

The origin of that is another story, but Henry Somerset was the greatest foxhunter, hound breeder, sportsman and benefactor the world has ever known. He took me in, taught me to foxhunt and genrously gave me hounds to start a pack.

On that memorable first hunt there were dozens of bystanders with their terriers hoping to be called upon to bolt a fox from ground.

With all the volunteers I asked Master "How do you tell who is the real terrierman?" "Simple," he replied, "He's always the one in the flat cap." Since then I've tried to keep up that tradition.

Andrea Stone

Turkish was trotting around in circles and looking at me and then meaningfully toward the front door. I was all, "Just go out back" - we have a dog door. Finally, in frustration he trotted to the dog door and pawed at it, calling my attention to the fact that Zepar was outside, laying in front of it.

He was too polite to butt Zepar out of the way. So I opened the slider and let him out. He was thrilled.

Jeraldeen Crandall, 1960s

Karen Christensen

In the category of sometimes you just have to laugh: I headed upstairs to bed with a full glass of water and a handful of dog treats. Ian, age 14 1/2, surges up the steps ahead of me, gets to about the fifth set up and stalls, realizes the cookies are behind him, and looking back, possum rolls (aka ass over teakettle) backwards down the stairs, airborne.

Knocking the water glass out of my hand, soaking himself and me and the other three dogs and the carpet and, well, denting his ego a little bit…thing is, I kind of saw it coming. That's how it is when you live with an old dog.

Chris Maxka

Public service announcement:

Where is your passport? Is there any chance it is in reach of your dogs? Warning: put it up!

While I was away at Basenji Nationals last week, my husband noticed my passport on the kitchen counter had a little chew mark on the corner. It happened awhile back, and I hadn't thought anything about it, the chew was so small. BUT...it did obscure one little number at the end...so at Jim's urging, early this morning I called the passport office...and long story short I am making a 2.5 hour drive to the passport office in Philadelphia to get a new one...one week before I fly to New Zealand. yikes! Hubby is a hero for noticing and realizing it was a problem. But the chew is so small...
I love my dogs I love my dogs I love my dogs...

Jackie Dering

Another day: Well, Harley just showed Zipper how to run down and kill a rabbit and Luke showed him how to eat it.

Lisa Marshall We need an eiuuu emoticon.

Jackie Dering I'm seeing fewer in my yard so maybe they are getting Darwinned out.

Sheila Keating I used to have a hard time when my Jazz would find baby bunny nests in the yard and eat them all in a couple of bites

Susan Kamen Marsicano - Moot calls them "wabbit fingers".

Gloria Richards Steiger

My dog(s) jumped into the laundry baskets full of clothes like they were jumping into the ball pit at the playplace. Bruce stayed in there wallowing.

Chris Klein

I try not to be political, but my dogs torture me....