The Life and Times of a Spoiled Dog

I was sick all last week so I have little to report which is why I'm devoting this post to Mel. Lately Mel's taken to trying to make friends with the Chihuahuas next door. There are at least six of them. They aren't buying her bids for friendship. Mostly they just get freaked out when they see her and bark a lot. Every day this week she's tried again. Her refusal to give up is impressive. Maybe with enough time she'll win their favor just like the Democratic Party did last week. I can only hope for her.

I want to hold your ha-a-a-and....

For a long time Mel was afraid of the stuffed octopus we'd bought for her before we picked her up at the vet's office. Recently she got over this fear and has spent a significant amount of time playing with it. She's scared of squeaky toys, though, and so every time she'd cause it to squeak, she'd then have to run away from it and then attack it. When she realized she could bring it to me and I'd hang onto a leg and we could use it for tug-o-war it was really only a matter of time until all the legs were pulled off. I helped with the first. She did the rest by herself.

The aftermath
(that's the squeaker on the right)

Now I feel guilty for helping her destroy the toy she's come to love.

Who me?