The Ruffles Report

Excuses, excuses, I am full of excuses. But this time it is a good one.

For the past 3 weeks or so I have found it difficult to breath. Not just after a good run chasing birds but even when I am just lounging (which we all know I love to do). I do not believe I am that out of shape that I should get winded walking from my food bowl to the couch but there you have it. I wheeze and whistle when I breathe. My two-legs thought it was funny at first. Chalked it up to my getting older and being out of shape. Then I started hacking when I got excited. I never coughed up anything, just clearing my throat I suppose; however, it started to get less funny for my two-legs. Then, on Saturday, it got even less funny, I began to cough little specks of blood.

I am very upset. I am going to jump.

My two-legs and the skirted-one took me over the Animal Wellness Center on Main. They recommended I go to the Pet Medical Center to get some X-Rays. Little-big-bro was left at home for all this. He missed out on the fun.

I did not like it there. First off, there was a non-dog 4-legs just hanging out in the lobby. My two-legs went over and had the nerve to pet her! I got so upset that I promptly hacked and coughed blood on their floor. They then proceeded to whisk me into a little room. I guess they do not like it when you get your fluids on the middle of their lobby floor.

In the tiny room my two-legs proceeded to perch me on top of the little metal table suspended a good 4 or so feet off the floor. I did my best to claw my way back on to my two-legs but neither he nor the skirted one would let me down.

I went through the normal exam. Weight. Thermometer (not in my mouth). And then prodding by the V-E-T. She said my breathing was not normal. (She also said I seemed a bit skinny, suck on that two-legs and feed me more dinner!) Next on the agenda was X-rays. My two-legs was not invited to join us. Frankly I blacked out once I left the room. When I awoke I was in a cage, yelling. I do not like cages. I especially do not like them when I can see my two-legs standing 6 feet away looking at pictures of my innards. I was not a good dog.

They drew some blood (again I had blacked out at this point as my two-legs and the skirted one had left me alone in a cage) and soon I was back in the arms of my master.

Tests are currently being run. Word on the street is I have largish specks in my lungs. It could either be fungus or cancer. I am rooting for fungus as I do not think I will look good bald.

I should know more this week and will keep you posted. And in case you missed it, I posted another one of my back dated posts. I can’t believe in another 3 months I will have been here a year!

It is I, Ruffles! Did you miss me?

So, where to begin. We will start with the basics. I haven’t posted since June of 2009. Can you believe it has been 7(ish) 4-legs years since I have last graced you with my wit and candor? I had some posts in drafts which I have now finally posted, you should see them back dating to October. I may back date some other posts I had been working. I may not, you never know.

I still live with my two-legs, big-little-bro, and the skirted one. So the people have not changed but the surroundings sure have. I no longer am forced to spend my days in the gray, drizzly, cold weather of the Pacific Northwest. I get to be a California boy again! Ah, sun, surf and sand.

Look at how handsome I look on the beach (OK, by the beach, 4-legs are not allowed on the beach)

It would be great if I liked any of those things. I get sun burnt and hot, I hate the water, and sand gets everywhere. The change of pace is nice though.

Life has been pretty status quo for me. Sleeping, eating, chewing. I have learned a few tricks (I can lie down!) and my new digs are much more conducive to the life of a 4-legs (I can let myself out to go poop!)

I have a few good stories that I will fill you in on in the coming days. I vow to you, my dedicated readers, I will not vanish for weeks, months or even years at a time.

I will keep you informed of my happens and hopefully continue to entertain you with my unique take on life as a four-legs in a two-legs world.

** I was going to call this post “Back in the Saddle” but then I got the damn Aerosmith song stuck in my head. It has been rattling around in there for hours now. Out of spite, I changed the title. That will teach them to make catchy songs…

Note: This is a backdated post that I had started in October ’09 but never finished… enjoy!

Smells! We four-legs have noses that are 10, 100, possibly even a million times more powerful than even the best two-legs nose. As a schnauzer, I may not have the best nose, but it is pretty darn good (my ancestors were ratters and those critters like to burrow). Our noses were designed for smelling. We have deep folds and pockets to trap odors and particulates, huge clusters of nerve endings all around to quickly past the smells to our brain, and those little slits on the sides of our nose, those are so when we exhale, we do not blow the scent away from directly in front of us. Pretty sweet. So when I got to my new home I was overwhelmed.

A cleaned house still has plent of old smells.

My two-legs and I had just pulled up to the apartment and already I was pretty excited. I love new places and was sick of the smells in his car (dust, fast food, and funk) and was itching to run my sniffer over this place. The previous tenants had done a decent job cleaning up, but they were no match for me…

There was a chair there, a rug here, the dog slept over here, and had an accident over there. Someone dropped perfume on the rug in the bedroom. Oh, a bit a dried old food (nom nom nom). And so on and so forth until my olfactory senses were pooped.

This place was big too, probably as big as the first two places in Seattle combined. Good solid hardwood floors for playing and running, soft carpet in the bedroom for napping. And with no furniture there except 3 boxes and my dog bed, I had the run of the house!

oh, oh, oh, and there is an outside. For the first time since I lived in San Jose I finally have a way outside on my own. Of course, it only leads to a little concrete path that runs three quarters around the house but it is better than nothing. I can do my business on my own schedule now. My two-legs has no power over me.

Furniture comes in a few days, then all of these old smells will slowly be replaced by my two-legs smells. The memories of old fade and give way to new smell memories (smemories?).

Until then, I am going to keep snorting and sniffing and sucking up all the delicious aromas I can.

When last we left our hero (me), he had just been separated from bro and put into the car for what would ultimately be the longest car journey he had ever taken. Read on…

Thank the maker for giving me the ability to nap for hours end. I would have gone crazy if I had to stay up for that whole drive. My two-legs on the other hand did have to stay up the entire time, but I think he is crazy anyway so it just added to it. In spite of the old saying, sometimes it is the destination and not the journey that are important. Take for instance our journey. The first half (the pretty half where you go through forests and quaint towns) was all done under cover of darkness. While moonlight treetops are nice to look at for a while, it gets boring. Good timing two-legs…

My bed was in the passenger seat. Gave me a good view (when I wasn't sleeping).

The second half (the ugly half were you drive through straight sun-burnt valleys) was all done in the middle of the day in the blazing hot sun. Oh two-legs, you never learn. This is how I spent my time (see picture at right).

I was stressed, needless to say. I think I had a bone for stress chewing, but it did not help. My time was divided between sleeping and pouting. I probably was not a very good passenger, but whatever, my two-legs stole me away from my home. And who is the boss of whom anyway!

The road just seemed to stretch on forever. A never ending march to a destination unknown.

My two-legs hates to stop too, we stopped my three times on the whole way down, and that was just because he had to refuel. Not because his puppy was bored and wanted to run around and smell things. He never cares what I want to do.

*Sigh*

Ok, maybe I am being a touch melodramatic. I suppose if I rack my brain I could think of a few good things…. hmmm….

There were some good smells at the rest stops, mostly urine, not all of it human. I saw a few birds, smelt some bovines, sheepies, emus, et cetera, along the road. I got a sunburn. Yeah, that was not fun. My two-legs cut my hair too short before we left, then let me sit in the sun in the car for hours… it was to be expected.

Sometimes there were exciting things. The almond trees behind me are not one of them. (note my sunburn)

Coming through the mountain range and into the LA Basin our vehicle died. Putt, putt, putt, pfft. sssssssss.

But it was just a minor snag, my two-legs knows how to get his clunker going again. Some time, some water, some more time, and drive really slowly. We eventually managed to crest over the range and coasted into the basin. Phew!

Near the end of our journey I did start to get excited. My two-legs started to perk up and I felt like we were actually headed somewhere.

And we were headed somewhere. Somewhere new. Somewhere exciting. Somewhere I had never been and would in short order be calling my new home.

Santa Monica.

My new home.

{note: This post was originally drafted in October but updated in June of 2010 and finally published. Hence the backdating.}

I feel like every time I sit down to bang out a post, I have to start off by first apologizing for not posting more. I have excuses though, and this time good ones. Last month I was stricken with an illness that is all too common for us four-legs. Kennel Cough. The hacking, the wheezing, the licking up my own phlegm. I was not pleasant to be around. I had a pretty mild case but it really stuck with me, I just could not shake it.

So then my two-legs (technically the skirted-one) took me to the V-E-T. Yeah, they spelled it out to try to trick me, but I am smart enough to form simple sounds into words. I do have a brain. Anyway, that involved some booster shots, some probing, some sitting on a cold metal table while a strange two-legs examined me. The one silver lining is that it was confirmed that I am no longer a fattie. Hooray for being average weight! The icing on the cake is that big-little-bro is actually now the fattie. He could stand to lose about 5 lbs. Ha! Fattie.

For the past couple weeks I have honestly been too stressed to do much of anything. It all started mid August when my two-legs left me with a stranger for a few days. Then, when they came back my two-legs never left the house. He was just puttering around the house. Cleaning stuff, sometimes putting things into boxes. Something was definitely happening, but I just could not put my paw on it. Suddenly, in a flurry of activity this past weekend, our beautiful home was suddenly picked up an boxed away. They even tried to but me in a box!

I do not deserve this kind of treatment.

Every time they left the apartment it felt like it would be for the last time. I cried and cried. And pooped on the carpet (they did not appreciate that).  Then, two big burly two-legs came and took everything. All my toys, all my bones, the comfy couch, the bed, everything! The apartment was empty except for the skirted-one, my two-legs, and two sad, worried puppies (and tonnes of big-little-bro’s fur. Just look at the contrast where the bed was):

That dark stuff? Dirt and fur. Puppies are messy.

And then, we all left. Separately. My two-legs and I went to his car and the skirted-one and big-little-bro to theirs. I would not see them again for days.

This is all getting too emotional and I will have to break the post here. I will finish up the exciting conclusion in Part Two: It is Not the Journey.