We watched Beverly Hills Chihuahua or something last night and I asked Mother why I don’t have a Harry Winston diamond collar and don’t have my own pool and don’t get to go to a doggy spa. She sort of scoffed and said “When I win the lottery hon until then you make do your Swarovski crystal one”. Pfft!
Mother got this amazing treat making machine! She puts all sorts of thinly sliced meats and liver and tendons in it and they come out dried like chips or jerky! She kept referring to it as a dehydrator. I call it God. Mother went to the wet market (Tekka Market actually) to get me beef liver and beef tendons and a rack of lamb ribs. She haaaaates wet markets and told me she held her breath and tip toed around the entire time! She kept saying “see what Mummy does for you!!” as she snipped up the tendons (oh she hates handling raw meat too. *snigger*). She made liver treats and tendon chewies (just like my favourite ones which she used to buy from the petstores!). She says home made treats are healthier and wants to make some for friends! She’s even made some dried apple slices for herself. I didn’t like those. Ick. For dinner, I was given 2 raw ribs for dinner. LOVED them. I’m happy to hear that Mother will be feeding me raw on weekends! She’s sold on the idea that chewing the bones will keep my teeth cleaned, and she feels this way I’ll get the best of both worlds – home cooked AND raw! I like raw. I feel like the wolf in me emerges. Roowrrrr! Or whatever sounds wolves make.
Sorry I hadn’t been updating my blog much last week. I stepped on a wriggling dying bee and got stung on my paw! Mother kept slapping her forehead saying that only I can get stung on my PAW of all places. She pulled the stinger out for me (she used a tweezer then later realized she shouldn’t have because she could have forced more venom in!!) then applied a paste of baking soda and water to it to neutralize the venom. To relieve the pain she tried to dip my paw in a cup of icy water but soon gave up and let me paw the ice from my bowl instead. Fun! It was like a game! Thankfully my paw didn’t swell up and I had no allergic reaction to the sting (no vomiting, difficulty in breathing, epilepsy, etc). Phew! That’s a picture of the stinger and some of the bee’s butt flesh. It wasn’t terribly big, more like a tiny splinter but STILL!
I’m getting a new trainer! Mother is sick and tired of being pressured at every single training class to
put a prong collar on me. She will happily forfeit the $800+ she has spent for my classes if she never has to be told to “let the collar do the talking” ever again. I overheard her conversation with Grandpa where she went “If that’s the case, then I might as well just buy the collar and fire the trainer! Who needs a trainer when all you do it let the collar do its work?? That’s not training! What a load of bullcrap. I don’t need to be told at every single lesson that if I put a prong collar on Romeo he will be more attentive. I already said NO. Which part of that doesn’t he understand?! Stupid fool. Don’t come and tell me you’ve trained hundreds of dogs with a prong collar. For every 100 he’s trained this way, another 100 have been trained using a choke chain. Should I use that too!? And another 100 trained using purely positive methods! If he is such a good trainer then bloody find an alternative solution for me! I should have known. I did see an electric collar on one of his dogs. Poor Jack would yelp and cry out everytime he barked and got zap. He really ought to put in writing that ALL STUDENTS ARE TO USE PRONG COLLARS because really, we’re NOT given a choice at all. If I had known I wouldn’t have signed up. I’m surprised no one other than myself has questioned the need for such collars on their dog. Surely someone must have thought “there has to be a better way”?!?” Mother was super pissed off on Sunday and vowed never to go back to him again. She’s currently looking for another trainer.







I’ve been playing with this toy that’s like a rubber ball with 2 flat sides that you squeeze these food/treat discs into. It bounces around and drives me utterly MAD. I keep yelling at the thing to stop moving and to release the discs but nothing happens! It’s called the Everlasting Treat Ball (how apt) by StarMark pet products. Mother loves it because it keeps me occupied while she gets ready for work. I don’t understand why she needs to spend so much time on her makeup and hair. I mean, look at me! I look great and I spend only 15 minutes a day on grooming!

