As Dad calls it my "suffering from Spring Chaos Syndrome" (otherwise known as SCS) is beginning to dwindle as Summer has set in and life slows its pace down a bit. Mom says I have been just plain BAD ever since April and would be glad for some peace and quiet around the house; however she will be disappointed whenever the Summer regime calls for swimming sessions, since those bring out my wild crazies in uncontrollable proportions.
For the last month or so I've been enjoying the full recovery of my eye surgery. At first I really couldn't believe it was all going to feel better and put Mom on a guilt trip, but she and I worked all that out since. Next time she tells me I'll get a fix and everything will be better, though, I'll know not to entirely trust her!
Life with Bromley has been stupid lately. He's just nuts, I don't know what else to say about it. He doesn't like Spring (talk about stupid!) nor Summer, he doesn't like walking in the woods and also doesn't like visitors or going on visits! What an idiot! One would think after I've suffered his presence for almost a year that he would at least make some effort to enjoy my activities, but noooooo... He is just plain selfish, silly and ridiculous. And he stinks up the house and yard. Well, he is sweet too, so I will still make allowances so long as he doesn't ruin all of my fun.
Now, I only have one more complaint (yes, only one, I'm not doing too bad am I?). It was made clear to me over a year ago that I would get a neat, cool tile floor in my bedroom. Not only do I NOT have said neat, cool tile floor in my bedroom yet, but there is a Bromley hogging it, stinking it and filling it with bones which he is fond of shooting out of his mouth at any given moment. I really dislike loud noises, especially in my bedroom. Sigh. Mom tells me she's trying to make arrangements to get the neatest flooring I've ever seen for the whole downstairs, but I'm not quite so naive anymore. I'll believe it when I see it!
This was in April when I still wore my big hat. There were so many new games I could play with it on!
My fur growing back in.
Last day of hat wearing, better inspect Bromley with my suction cup while I still can! Mom would like to note here that Bromley was humoring me.
Stitches removed and playing ball!
Finally I can swim with Dad again! Bromley dork wouldn't go in, in spite of the fact that I taught him to swim. Well, I'll tell ya, that's THE last time I try to teach a Bromley anything that even remotely relates to water. As soon as he began to paddle and propel himself he swam after me, climbed on my back (do I look like a life raft???!!!?!?) and pushed me under. I almost drowned! NO more swimming lessons by Misha!
Hugs with Dad, one of my favorite pastimes!
See how nice I am to baby brother? I'll even share my dirt hole on a hot afternoon.
I like hugs with Mom too, it's a good time to talk about things we don't want Bromley Brat to hear.
We were allowed a supervised guarding session in the front yard last weekend.
Bromley is facing the wrong way, what a doofus!
I hear something!
I see something!
I shall woowoowoo it away!
We were so busy last weekend, there were also boxes to shred for the trash container.
This is our newest Berner. I like this kind, it stays out of the way and points me to the kitchen.
So, these were my latest ruminations and adventures spanning the last couple months. With quieter days ahead (at least that is what I can reasonably expect going on past experience) I should be making a few more frequent visits here.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
My updating hasn't been too regular of late! I have been neglecting my fan club (which I'm really sorry about), but with good reason. A few weeks ago I had spring fever SO badly, there was little time to do anything else than create chaos out of doors. We took a bunch of fun walks, most notably the one pictured below.




Many more photos from that day here and here
--------------------------------------

Besides my spring fever excuse, I had to get my eyes fixed. Mom talked with me about it for weeks; she said we'd go to the eye doctor and I'd feel all better afterwards. I'll tell ya, it's not been fun living with irritated, watery eyes, so I was thrilled at this prospect.
We went to the eye doctor twice. The first time she simply looked me over, studied my eyes and jabbed me in the stomach. I don't know why I have to be jabbed in the stomach to get my eyes fixed, but ok.. Doctors, in my mind, are pretty evil ever since one pulled a foxtail (whatever THAT is supposed to be) out of my ear; they usually have to bribe me with cookies to get any decent behavior from my end. However, an eye doctor is a totally different matter. Fix my eyes, and I will love you. So, I was an extremely good boy for the eye doctor. For the first time in my life I stood perfectly still for my examination, without anyone holding me down. Bromley had come along on that first visit; he was a complete idiot. Were his eyes hurting him and did he need to be jabbed in the stomach? No! Nevertheless he felt it necessary to get terribly in the way and jump on Dad and the counters and nearly knock Mom over. I reiterate: idiot.
Our next visit was quite different from the first. The sun was shining all the morning, only to disappear the hour of our departure. Dad's mom came to babysit the idiot. Did he have to miss his breakfast, lunch and dinner? NO! Why, then, must he make such a ridiculous fuss?? He, in his idiocy, ran out the back door after snobbishly eating his lunch in front of me and my empty belly, while Mom, Dad and I left through the front door and hopped in the car.
I knew where I was going and had great expectations. Even though it began to rain (I abhor rain)I remained in good spirits! Mom and Dad were a mess, though I couldn't possibly fathom why. There were so many dogs in the waiting room, and smells left behind from so many more, yet I was expected to sit still in a corner! Too much to ask! I passed a whole hour sniffing the dogs, pulling obnoxiously on my leash, moping about not being able to play with anyone, and getting bored. Dogs kept coming out of the back rooms with funny hats on their heads. No, I couldn't play with those either. Sigh!
Boredom is one thing, but insult is quite another. Eventually my eye doctor appeared in the waiting room. She paid me little attention while talking to Dad in a funny accent about stuff I couldn't understand in the slightest. The worst of it, however, was when she took a little dog back with her and not me! Supposedly it was something to with "heart patient". Whatever. I was here first! Indignation abounded.
We went outside for some walking down a dirt lane. It was still raining. Mom said my time with the eye doctor would come soon, so I made sure to mark as many trees as possible before we returned to the boring waiting room.
And more waiting ensued. People filed in and out all over the place...and then I spotted another doctor (he was definitely a doctor because he wore the doctor outfit) approaching. He totally ignored me, talking instead to another group. I was here first!!! Nobody would listen to me, so I jumped up and tried to go after him. He still ignored me and went away with the other dog. Did I mention the word "indignant"??
Mom tried to relieve our boredom by sitting with me on the floor and giving me lots of pets, scratches and kisses. The old guy sitting opposite asked something of Dad about being jealous.
Finally, my eye doctor returned. This time she paid me some decent attention. When she knelt down in front of me I lunged at her and the funny metal contraption round her neck, whilst woofing in her face. That was a reprimand for making me wait. The funny metal thing, which looked like a toy but didn't smell like one in the slightest, was placed on me a few times. What does this have to do with my eyes?! She talked to Dad, which I found thoroughly boring, so I talked to Mom. Mom said, "yeah, Mish, that's your eye doctor, she's going to fix your eyes real soon." So, I turned back to the doctor at this and nose bumped her hands out of her lap and into the air. Hurry up!!
At long last I was permitted to follow my doctor through the hall, as Dad walked me on my leash. Mom gave me a hug and said to be a good boy. Rounding the bend, I looked back before passing through a door. Mom had stopped and was just watching me. I looked up at everyone, confused and unsure for the first time. Mom must come! She tried to tell me later on that she had become terribly sick, and only one person could sit with me, so that's why she left; but I am still hurt. In the operating room they wanted me to sit. I would not sit. Mom is gone... And that was it. I snored, loudly.
The next thing I knew all was a horrible daze and confusion. Dad was there, and this stupid hat was on my head. What IS this??? We all stumbled out into the waiting room, and still I couldn't find my mom. I waited with the doctor, whom I really didn't like anymore, while Dad ran outside. Mom appeared and I almost fell on the floor in trying to bolt for her. After crashing our heads together in the back of the car, I allowed her to put me on her lap and fell asleep, disappointed and pretty miserable.
I have a vague recollection of waiting in the car with her at home. The rain had cleared and the sun was once more visible. Scuffles of Bromley and Dad going out barely registered in my poor muddled head. Mom eventually helped me out and took me around the house, but I wouldn't settle anywhere until we reached my bedroom in the front hall.
There I moped:

The following days were pretty hard. I couldn't fit on my bed with the stupid hat, and refused to use my bed in any other location than its normal one. I itched and was sore, and stank. For the first time in years I woke up in my own pee. Bromley, the idiot that he is, seemed to be more traumatized than myself. He was sweet, though, and I tried to make him feel better. Actually, he was never so sweet in all his life. Mom says he grew up on the day of my operation.

In the past week there have been numerous improvements. I learned to play all sorts of new games with my hats. They are great for whacking people, little brothers and other objects out of my way; I can claim a sniff spot in the park all for myself while Bromley desperately tries to figure out how to get at it; when walking past the deer fields I scrape the edge of my hat against the fence and make a racket, while the silly creatures stare at me in complete bewilderment and run away in fear; I'm able to scoop up leaves, sticks and food with my built-in shovel; but probably best of all, I can run after Mom and pin her into place in a chair, at the refrigerator, or on the floor, where she has no hope of moving until I get what I want.



This is me today, with my fur growing back in, and wearing my silly new and improved hat. It is extra padded for better bulldozing capabilities.
These are the rest of the photos: Misha post-op
I've heard that I will go back to the eye doctor next week to get my stitches out. I do not like the eye doctor anymore, and just want this dumb thing off my head. Somehow, all this was not what I expected... but it is nice that my eyes don't water all the time...




Many more photos from that day here and here
--------------------------------------

Besides my spring fever excuse, I had to get my eyes fixed. Mom talked with me about it for weeks; she said we'd go to the eye doctor and I'd feel all better afterwards. I'll tell ya, it's not been fun living with irritated, watery eyes, so I was thrilled at this prospect.
We went to the eye doctor twice. The first time she simply looked me over, studied my eyes and jabbed me in the stomach. I don't know why I have to be jabbed in the stomach to get my eyes fixed, but ok.. Doctors, in my mind, are pretty evil ever since one pulled a foxtail (whatever THAT is supposed to be) out of my ear; they usually have to bribe me with cookies to get any decent behavior from my end. However, an eye doctor is a totally different matter. Fix my eyes, and I will love you. So, I was an extremely good boy for the eye doctor. For the first time in my life I stood perfectly still for my examination, without anyone holding me down. Bromley had come along on that first visit; he was a complete idiot. Were his eyes hurting him and did he need to be jabbed in the stomach? No! Nevertheless he felt it necessary to get terribly in the way and jump on Dad and the counters and nearly knock Mom over. I reiterate: idiot.
Our next visit was quite different from the first. The sun was shining all the morning, only to disappear the hour of our departure. Dad's mom came to babysit the idiot. Did he have to miss his breakfast, lunch and dinner? NO! Why, then, must he make such a ridiculous fuss?? He, in his idiocy, ran out the back door after snobbishly eating his lunch in front of me and my empty belly, while Mom, Dad and I left through the front door and hopped in the car.
I knew where I was going and had great expectations. Even though it began to rain (I abhor rain)I remained in good spirits! Mom and Dad were a mess, though I couldn't possibly fathom why. There were so many dogs in the waiting room, and smells left behind from so many more, yet I was expected to sit still in a corner! Too much to ask! I passed a whole hour sniffing the dogs, pulling obnoxiously on my leash, moping about not being able to play with anyone, and getting bored. Dogs kept coming out of the back rooms with funny hats on their heads. No, I couldn't play with those either. Sigh!
Boredom is one thing, but insult is quite another. Eventually my eye doctor appeared in the waiting room. She paid me little attention while talking to Dad in a funny accent about stuff I couldn't understand in the slightest. The worst of it, however, was when she took a little dog back with her and not me! Supposedly it was something to with "heart patient". Whatever. I was here first! Indignation abounded.
We went outside for some walking down a dirt lane. It was still raining. Mom said my time with the eye doctor would come soon, so I made sure to mark as many trees as possible before we returned to the boring waiting room.
And more waiting ensued. People filed in and out all over the place...and then I spotted another doctor (he was definitely a doctor because he wore the doctor outfit) approaching. He totally ignored me, talking instead to another group. I was here first!!! Nobody would listen to me, so I jumped up and tried to go after him. He still ignored me and went away with the other dog. Did I mention the word "indignant"??
Mom tried to relieve our boredom by sitting with me on the floor and giving me lots of pets, scratches and kisses. The old guy sitting opposite asked something of Dad about being jealous.
Finally, my eye doctor returned. This time she paid me some decent attention. When she knelt down in front of me I lunged at her and the funny metal contraption round her neck, whilst woofing in her face. That was a reprimand for making me wait. The funny metal thing, which looked like a toy but didn't smell like one in the slightest, was placed on me a few times. What does this have to do with my eyes?! She talked to Dad, which I found thoroughly boring, so I talked to Mom. Mom said, "yeah, Mish, that's your eye doctor, she's going to fix your eyes real soon." So, I turned back to the doctor at this and nose bumped her hands out of her lap and into the air. Hurry up!!
At long last I was permitted to follow my doctor through the hall, as Dad walked me on my leash. Mom gave me a hug and said to be a good boy. Rounding the bend, I looked back before passing through a door. Mom had stopped and was just watching me. I looked up at everyone, confused and unsure for the first time. Mom must come! She tried to tell me later on that she had become terribly sick, and only one person could sit with me, so that's why she left; but I am still hurt. In the operating room they wanted me to sit. I would not sit. Mom is gone... And that was it. I snored, loudly.
The next thing I knew all was a horrible daze and confusion. Dad was there, and this stupid hat was on my head. What IS this??? We all stumbled out into the waiting room, and still I couldn't find my mom. I waited with the doctor, whom I really didn't like anymore, while Dad ran outside. Mom appeared and I almost fell on the floor in trying to bolt for her. After crashing our heads together in the back of the car, I allowed her to put me on her lap and fell asleep, disappointed and pretty miserable.
I have a vague recollection of waiting in the car with her at home. The rain had cleared and the sun was once more visible. Scuffles of Bromley and Dad going out barely registered in my poor muddled head. Mom eventually helped me out and took me around the house, but I wouldn't settle anywhere until we reached my bedroom in the front hall.
There I moped:

The following days were pretty hard. I couldn't fit on my bed with the stupid hat, and refused to use my bed in any other location than its normal one. I itched and was sore, and stank. For the first time in years I woke up in my own pee. Bromley, the idiot that he is, seemed to be more traumatized than myself. He was sweet, though, and I tried to make him feel better. Actually, he was never so sweet in all his life. Mom says he grew up on the day of my operation.

In the past week there have been numerous improvements. I learned to play all sorts of new games with my hats. They are great for whacking people, little brothers and other objects out of my way; I can claim a sniff spot in the park all for myself while Bromley desperately tries to figure out how to get at it; when walking past the deer fields I scrape the edge of my hat against the fence and make a racket, while the silly creatures stare at me in complete bewilderment and run away in fear; I'm able to scoop up leaves, sticks and food with my built-in shovel; but probably best of all, I can run after Mom and pin her into place in a chair, at the refrigerator, or on the floor, where she has no hope of moving until I get what I want.



This is me today, with my fur growing back in, and wearing my silly new and improved hat. It is extra padded for better bulldozing capabilities.
These are the rest of the photos: Misha post-op
I've heard that I will go back to the eye doctor next week to get my stitches out. I do not like the eye doctor anymore, and just want this dumb thing off my head. Somehow, all this was not what I expected... but it is nice that my eyes don't water all the time...
Thursday, March 19, 2009
It's Spring and boy have I been enjoying it!!!

Doing crazy Mishas in the woods...

Being a supermodel...

Reviewing books...

And just plain posing, of course!

Here are links to all my latest photo albums (well, ok, they're Mom's albums, but I most definately dominate them):
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=18609&id=1278376222&l=040b3b0eef
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=18924&id=1278376222&l=153cbd9532
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=19635&id=1278376222&l=92698d3e86
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=19853&id=1278376222&l=98866710a0
We've been so busy, and Spring just got started! I have great plans for the upcoming six months...

Doing crazy Mishas in the woods...

Being a supermodel...

Reviewing books...

And just plain posing, of course!

Here are links to all my latest photo albums (well, ok, they're Mom's albums, but I most definately dominate them):
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=18609&id=1278376222&l=040b3b0eef
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=18924&id=1278376222&l=153cbd9532
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=19635&id=1278376222&l=92698d3e86
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=19853&id=1278376222&l=98866710a0
We've been so busy, and Spring just got started! I have great plans for the upcoming six months...
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