Thank you, dear readers!

Sorry it's been so long since I've posted here. I've been working a wonky 12  hour night shift and getting so very little sleep it's a wonder I'm still alive.

Ziggy is growing up and is 8 months old now.  He has taken to barking a the postal people (we keep him indoors--it's just when he hears them coming to the door) and had his first "sleep over" at the pet sitter's house when we went up to Whistler, BC for the weekend.  I think he enjoyed playing with the dog... but I think he probably terrorized the cats.

Here's a couple pictures to tide you over while I get my act together and take more decent photos.

"I'm outta here."

"Did someone say "treats"?"

"

"What's that noise?"

Knitterly supervisor

Jamie knits.  Ziggy "supervises."

"This knitting doesn't look so difficult..."

"Can I help you with something?"

"Yes, I'm quite comfortable, thank you."

"You want me to get up when I look this  cute?  Surely not!"

Daydreaming.

"Make my day.  I dare you."

Dog Casino

Ziggy Update

Jamie here, filling in for Ziggy, who is currently too busy playing with his toys and causing a general ruckus to be bothered with such boring, mundane tasks as updating his own blog.

It's been about a month since I got Ziggy, and just this week he finally started sleeping through the night.  At the first few nights, I was up all night, every few hours, taking him outside.  Knock on wood, I hope he continues this trend of sleeping through the night.  (He wakes up around dawn, meaning I'm up around 0530 or 0600--this doesn't amuse me, but what can I do about it?  Nothing.  Just stifle a yawn, grab his leash, and get sweet puppy kisses in return.)

He also prefers to eat out of puzzle toys, and has totally figured out his Nina Ottosson Dog Brick Toy and Kong Wobbler.  Give him fresh dog food in a bowl, even the good stuff, and he'll eat a bite or two and then walk away.  Give him stale (ok, so I don't really feed him stale food) kibble in his Kong Wobbler, and he's all over it.  Go figure.

We're still working on leash walking.  For the most part, he doesn't pull on the leash.  Oh no.  Not Ziggy.  That would be too blase.  No, he has to balk.  I like to joke that I take him not on a walk, but a balk.  He wants to go where he pleases, and sometimes he'll have the attention span to more or less walk with me, and other times, not so much.

Also figured out he hates downpours.  Swell. A dog, who lives in Seattle, which is like, Rain City Capitol, and he hates rain.

Ditto with bath time, nail clipping, and brushing.  Lots of fun we're having these days.

But he is a fun little chap, and with any luck, one day, we'll get to that wonderful place called adulthood sanity.

Signing off,

Jamie

The Eleventh Hour.

... or rather, week!  I'm eleven weeks old today!  And what a ride it's been!

Here's some photos of me:

Why yes, this purple thing is delicious . Why do you ask?

Yes?

I can't look any cuter than this.

Oh wait, perhaps I can.

Ziggy Zonked Out.

It's a hard life; gotta get my zzzzz's while I can.

Weebles Wobble

... but Kong Wobblers fall down.

Behold the mighty Ziggy taking down the Kong Wobbler:

Puppy school

I had my first puppy lesson today and boy was it fun!  Afterwards, I got to play with some other dogs.  This is me at play time, near tuckered out:

And a couple more of me:

I'm going to go take a long nap now, folks!  Bark at you later!

Having a ball!

Here's me playing!  I love to play!

Conked out.

Me at my most angelic!  Sleeping!

In which I play with my tuggr leash

What are you looking at?

Sitting pretty, no?

Attack puppy!

I tried to get cuter than this, but it's just not possible.

 

Oh wait, it totally is.

 And so forth.         

This is me grinning.  I've made my day. 

Can't beat the real thing.

In which I conquer a plastic Coke bottle:

(N.B. Try not to become nauseated by Jamie's shaky-cam videography). 

Ziggy Nation

I've been here with Jamie for almost a week.  And what a week it's been! 

In a nutshell, I'm cute.  Totally and unabashedly cute.  Everybody wants to pet me.  And I love everybody.  Maybe a little too much with my sharky teeth, LOL. 

I still whine when I'm in my X pen.  Jamie seems to dislike this immensely, but I don't know why.  I'm just registering my Intense Disapproval, after all. 

But did I mention the cuteness?

Thought so ;-). 

Crossing paws

I have to admit.  I was giving Jamie a run for her money there, for a few days.  And I still might.

But I seem better this afternoon.

I whined.  And whined.  And whined. And whined. And whined.

Ad infinitum.

Not just at night when she put me in the crate (every hour, on the hour, wanting to go outside.  And Jamie willingly obliged.  SUCKER.)

When I was in my X pen in the kitchen, it didn't matter if Jamie was in the next room over in plain sight, I had to tell her how upset I was.  Frequently.  Loudly.  And more or less continuously.

And then somehow this afternoon, I seem to have pulled it together.  Toned it down a little.  Given her a break.  Maybe I'm starting to realize this place isn't for the birds, and I might like it here.  Maybe I realized she's not going to send me to live with birds (whatever that means.)  But I calmed down a mite.  Had fewer all out drama king fits.  Eased up a little, if you will.

But that's not saying I will tomorrow. (Plots in puppy fashion).

Kong is King

Jamie insists that I post yet another video In Which I Play With a Toy.  Seriously, does she think I have nothing else to do with my day?  Or you, dear viewer, with yours?

I guess the answer would be:  apparently not. 

So here's another video:

Watch it!  I dare ya!

Play Ball!

This video is probably about as much fun as watching paint dry, as videos go (I can't believe Jamie made me write that.  I am Ziggy.  I am fun and interesting by my very nature.  Phewey on Jamie, says I. )  

Ah ha!  Success!  I believe I will press "publish" now. 

Better than soap on a rope?

I know what you're thinking.  What on earth is that?

Well, it's one of these tied to one of these and it happens to be My Favorite Toy (of the Hour).

Jamie is on a list called westie-l on yahoogroups, and some nice lady suggested I might like chasing a toy on the ground, and she might like keeping all of her fingers and toes intact.

So, she tied a Kong Wubba (the soft, plush version) to a braided, felted leash that doubles as a tug toy and... instant Zigginator.  I hate to say it, but even this thing wears me out after a little while.  But it's so much fun while it lasts, and so much more fun than Jamie getting up and leaving in a middle of a game of "Let's see how fast I can ignore the toy in her hand and go for her fingers instead."  That's a bummer to play, trust me, young pups.

You don't need a special leash--even a rope would do, but it's nice to have a bit of length on the toy at this point, to save those fingers and toes she says are so important (what's so bad about paws and teeth?  Obviously works for me.  Now who's the evolutionary chump, hmmm? Ziggy, 1.  Jamie 0.  That's all I'm saying.)

Ready for my close up, Mr. DeMille

I sure hope someone can find me a better, more talented paparazzi.  And soon.  Before I start losing my puppyhood charm.  Jamie just doesn't have what it takes.  I look so sad in the picture.  So... confused as to why yet another picture is being taken.  It's not even a scenic background.

But, I am cute, non?*

*See, I can even speak  a little French.  And so young!  But really, Jamie says I shouldn't get a big head about this.  She is trying to remind me about the book-eating incident.  Well, how embarrassing.  Do I make her reveal her youthful indiscretions on a public blog? I think not.   

Bark and the world barks with you.

Whine, and you whine alone.

Jamie here.  Ziggy says he's not to be held liable for the photograph-less-ness boringness of this post, nor its egregiously maudlin content.  However, I can't resist.

Well, after three solid days of puppy owning, I think I'm finally kind of getting the hang of having a puppy.

Ok, that was an outright lie.

LOL.

What I did remind myself of this morning and this afternoon and about a hundred times already today is how much joy a puppy brings not just myself, but lots of people, and even though it's in a very small way, we can all use a little happiness every day, never mind in these tough times.

Seriously.

Taking Ziggy out in the front lawn?

Strangers can't help themselves. Walking by, they ooh and ahh about the puppy.  Having a crummy day? Take a puppy for a walk. People will give two flying crabapples about your day, but they will want to pet your puppy, smile at your puppy, stop and tell you about their puppy. And it will make you feel better, somehow, no matter how rotten your day has been.)

Trust me. The beginning of the week had some very crummy non-puppy stuff in
store for me. Having a puppy, being sleep deprived because of said puppy, and
worrying about doing everything right by the puppy--it didn't make the
non-puppy stuff easier, I will admit. It would have been easier this week to be
puppy free.

But you know what did help? Ironically... having a puppy! The sheer joy and amazement the puppy holds for every single little thing humbles you. It makes you more keenly aware of things we take for granted, like sunshine (ok, so no one ever takes sunshine for granted where I live!) and clean air and a little breeze rippling through the blades of grass. Heck, even a blade of grass is SUPER AMAZING AND YOUR PUPPY WOULD TELL YOU ALL ABOUT IT IF HE COULD.  (And he does--just look at his face, alive in wonderment!)

Seriously. Take a puppy along for a spin if you can. You'll be amazed at how, "LOOK MA! IT'S THE *WORLD*! ISN"T IT GREAT?!?!?" she is.

(Ziggy even managed to make the staff's day at the vet on Monday, just by being small and precious and cute, and I imagine at a vet's office, that's a pretty tall order given all the small and precious and cute they probably see in a given day!)

Loving a puppy, doing all the housetraining making sure you do right by your puppy... it is hard work. It seems never-ending. And yet it isn't.

This time is finite, and one day your puppy won't be a puppy any more. People will nod at you and your wonderful old dog as you walk sedately (or not) down the street. But they probably won't run over and ask you to pet your puppy with an ill-supressed glimmer of childhood remembered in their eye.

Life will be comfortable with the dog, one day in the future. You'll forget what's it's like to coax a puppy down the block for twenty five minutes because he's so darn interested in the neighbor, your shoes, your ankle, the pavement, the bird, the sky, the... everything... You'll hopefully be cleaning up fewer messes. You won't make the mistake I did last night and forget to lock the kennel door, and wake up to a shredded obedience book (message, there, to momma, Ziggy?) and if you did, your stuff won't be damaged.

But you won't ever have the puppy time back again. It's a gift that way.

A gift and a joy.

Celebrate your puppies and love the dogs they become!

 

Pulp Fiction.

Hi, all.  This is Ziggy, quite possible Seattle's Cutest Puppy.

Seriously.

I get, "Awwww, cuuuuuuute puppy!" remakrs from people I don't even know.  Virtual strangers, who look like they might otherwise pass by Jamie without so much as a "have an apple," stop, lean over, and pat pat pat me on the head.  Well-mannered children even want to play with me.

And who wouldn't?

Roster of puppy activities, as documented by Jamie's somewhat lacking iphone skills.  (This would be a lot more interesting if I had command of her iphone.  Namely, I wouldn't be bothering you with pictures.  I would be telling you how much fun I had chewing half a grand worth of plastic and electronic bits.)

Any way.  I digress:  

I sleep:

I also lay in repose:

And I'm an expert in "crashing out":

Did I mention I also play?  I am a fiend?  And a human finger/toe/clothing seeking little missile.  Not that you can tell from any of my videos, as I'm having technical difficulties (hey, I am only a puppy folks; did you master web browsing, blogging and video-publishing all in the first 8 weeks of your life?  I rather thought not.)

I promise to get Jamie to rectify this fix this shortly.

Love,

Ziggy, who does more than sleep, I promise
  
P.S.  Jamie says something about having me "obedience trained."  There's that "training" thing she clearly can't disavow herself of.  Foolish woman.  If only I had opposable thumbs, I would not have left the kennel door open last night after a late night trip to the loo.  This "obedience" book, as Jamie has it, suffered said fate:

 
Book, zero.  Ziggy, one.   (And yes, Jamie woke up before I  managed to consume the whole dull cellullose lot.  Why do people keep these things around, any way?  So full of wood pulp boring.