Jet has a Play Date!

Jet is now 11 months old and weighs in at about 82 pounds.  That's a lot of dog, isn't it?  He's finally big enough for a "fair" play date with Murphy.  Murphy is the gorgeous labradoodle that lives across the street.  He's about 120 pounds!

Last week, I snapped some photos of them playing together in Kathryn & Timer's Murphy's backyard.

Looks rougher than it is.

Rick with Jet and Timer looks on.

(Murphy's not really biting Jet -- it just looks that way)

After only 10 minutes, the two of them are panting like, well, like dogs.

Poor Blitzen had to stay in the house.  She doesn't play well with others.  And she's old.

Xena Speaks

Xena heard through the grapevine that there exists a blogging goat name Pricilla and she insists on having her say today. I can't be responsible for what Xena might say. I just hope she doesn't offend anyone. Here goes.

Woof!
First, I would like to thank Pricilla for paving the way for pet blogging. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have thought of it if not for her.

No, on to my current gripe: brushing and grooming in general. Make . Her . Stop . There, I said it. My mommy thinks this needs to be done. I wholeheartedly disagree. It really doesn't feel good. Mommy says that's because we've let my fur get too long. Again, I disagree. We're in Alaska after all, and I need all this fur for warmth.

Here are the evil tools She insists on using. On the right is the Bouvier rake (as if I need a rake) and the thing on the left actually cuts the hair as it brushes. This one is a little better.

While She brushes me -- about 5 looooong minutes a day! -- I hear her muttering words like "matted" and "stinky", interspersed with "soft and fluffy". She is sending some very mixed messages. Am I stinky or am I soft?

Somethimes I think mommy would prefer a sweet-smelling little toy poodle (ick), but she insists this isn't true. I'd like to believe her. I'm a dog and I want to smell like a dog.

Auntie Carol was here the other day with Bluebelle. Bluebelle is a poodle, but she's pretty cool. She's what they call a standard poodle, which means that all the other kinds must be sub-standard. Auntie Carol said I look huge and I took that as a compliment. Then she laughed at the appearance of my feet. I still don't get it.

I accept the inevitability of a trip to the groomer sometime this spring, but the longer we put it off, the better. She made an appointment for me for this coming Friday (!) but rumor has it she's going to cancel. I heard mommy and daddy arguing about this the other day and daddy won. YAY daddy! I know he loves me in his own special way. My odors don't bother him at all. Hmmmm. Wonder why.Thanks again to Pricilla for introducing me to the world of blogging. I've never met a goat, but I think I would like you Pricilla.

Woof,
Xena