Farley here.
Grooming day. I love it. I get an hour of my human’s undivided attention. She brushes, and snips and massages me.
She makes a mess, and every time she comments, “Before I finish grooming, there’s another mat.” Like she thinks I’m matting on purpose just to get her to brush me. Wouldn’t that be good?
But why is she cutting my hair when it -15 Celsius? Because if she doesn’t look what happens.
Woof Woof
Farley here,
I spent the first 8 weeks of my life I’ve on a farm. There were kids, horses and other dogs. I thought life was grand until…
Darkness hovered. Rain soaked us. Thunder boomed. That should have been an indication life was about to change.
“What’s happening?” Piper barked.
“I don’t know,” I barked back. “Where do you think we’re going?”
Before we had a chance to answer our questions, we were scooped up and put in a car. After an hours drive, we sheltered in a bus stop and waited.
In the midst of howling wind and rain drops, my first human passed me to another human and abandoned me. I quivered and whined.
We’re loaded into a different car. The stress of the event had taken its toll. Even though Piper was the smallest dog I’d ever seen, we took comfort in each other. I put my leg around her and whispered, “Everything will be okay.”
Two hours later, we arrived at our destination. There were more people and one huge dog. My duty was to protect Piper, but look at the size of Murphy.
We held our ground. Murphy sniffed and pranced until we understood he was the boss – and seven years later, he still is.
But life was not all terrifying that day. Look how happy Kristina was to hold me for the first time.
Woof Woof
Farley here,
And Max too. Max is my neighbour, and on a good day, Kristina brings him along for a walk. Notice – no leashes – the bears must be hibernating. Or Kristina is getting braver – ha ha.
“Farley,” Max barks. “Come here. I’ve got a squirrel.”
“Where’d he go?” I bark.
Max points at the tree with his nose. “He was here a second ago.”
I scramble close. “I can smell him. He’s not far.”
Max whips around the tree, but the squirrel isn’t on the other side. “Up! Go up.”
“Jump higher.” I’m a short fluff ball. Max is sleek and athletic, so maybe he can reach the chattering rodent.
“What if we catch him?”
“I don’t know,” Max barks. “I’ve never caught one.”
Anyone know what to do with a squirrel if you catch one? I think we need instructions.
Woof Woof
Farley here,
Kristina is busy getting ready for her Facebook Launch Party and release of her second novel BLAZE on Sunday, so I have to keep myself occupied.
I don’t have a problem with that as I have a new FFL – Friend For Life – and he’s a squirrel.
He’s collecting nuts for the winter, so he’s a little busy too, but he makes times to play with me.
The game:
Squirrel runs down side of tree.
I bark.
Squirrel runs up tree.
I wag my tail.
Squirrel runs down side of tree…
You get the idea.
We do this for hours, until I can’t focus anymore and I just gotta nap.
Woof Woof
Farley here,
It’s not my fault I love to run in a creek. It’s not my fault the creek bottom is muddy.
I rolled and rolled on the grass, but the mud just wouldn’t come off.
So when we arrive home, you know what happens…
I don’t like having a bath. I’m pretty sure I’ve mentioned that, many times…Special bubbles just for dogs. Ha!
Woof Woof
Farley here,
The golf course has closed for the season….So this is my day.
Run
Run more
Run some more
Drink…
’nuff said.
Woof Woof
Farley here,
I don’t know what I was thinking. Well, I guess I wasn’t thinking. Look what I did today. I chewed Kristina’s purse. And not just any purse. Her mom gave her this purse, and she loves it.
She walks into the room. She’s surprised. I never chew anything, so at first she doesn’t understand what’s going on. Then I see the light go on, and she knows I’ve been misbehaving.
She takes the purse away from me, gives me a loving pat on my head, and says, “Really, this is your new thing?”
I wag my tail.
She hugs me.
I lick her face.
She takes me for a walk. She sure is tough with discipline 🙂 Now I just feel guilty. Couldn’t she have been even a little mad at me?
She gave me a starring role in her second novel, BLAZE, and to thank her I try to eat her purse. How do I make this up to her?
Woof Woof.
Farley here,
Some of you may know I’m a bit of a softy. Comfort is my thing. Except when my brain turns off and I’m playing.
I went for a little dip in a creek this week, along with three other dogs, so what happened wasn’t all my fault.
The creek bottom was full of black mud, and Kristina wasn’t too thrilled with me.
When we got home, she washed me. But really, did she have to use the outside hose? Couldn’t she have run a bath inside the house?
No, she says. I was too dirty. She shampooed me twice. Twice.
I don’t like to be shampooed, so I tricked her and huddled in the living room and shivered and shook. I wasn’t really cold, but I wanted some love. So what does she do? She wraps me in a towel.
I think she likes it when I look silly. But I do have to give her credit. She used one of her good towels because all mine were covered with mud 😉
Woof woof.
Farley here,
In order to protect the innocent, I won’t use names today.
I’ve a new neighbour. We play with a stick and exhaust ourselves. He’s gentle in his play, fun to chase, and an all round good dog. But then…the sun shines in a certain way, and I notice something odd.
“Dude,” I bark, “What’s with your back?”
“The scars?” he barks back.
I sniff his skin but can’t smell anything. The scars are old. “Yeah. They look nasty. Do they hurt?”
“Not anymore.” He gives a little whine as if shaking off a bad memory. “A human poured hot oil on me.”
“What!”
“Not one of my happier days.”
My skin prickles, and I get all agitated. I don’t like this story. “How did you get away?” I bark.
“I ran and ran. And then I came upon a dog shelter. They took me in and then…” he stops barking to pant, “then, the greatest thing happened.”
He gets distracted by a leaf and runs in circles for a bit.
“What? What?” I bark, bringing him back to the story.
He flops beside me. “Two humans walked into the shelter. The woman said, ‘I love that one.’ And she’s pointing right at me. Can you believe it? I’m covered in bandages. I look pathetic, and she chose me. I instantly love her too.”
“Are they your humans now?”
His tails flops, and there is a shine in his eye. “Forever.”
Woof Woof
PS. Kristina’s new book, BLAZE, is available for pre-order. You can get it at:myBook.to/BLAZEbyKristinaStanley
And here’s a little teaser: I have a big, and I mean big (so I like to exaggerate) role in the book. She even used my name. I’m going to be a famous wheaten terrier.
Farley here,
I’ve finally trained my humans to understand my barks.
A deep growl followed by frantic, high pitched barks means: “There is a bear within 20 feet.” There is a lot of body language involved here too. Mostly, me putting my body between the humans and the bear, so the humans know which way to retreat.
Deep, in the throat, repeated barking means: “There is a bear in the area but not close.” I’m a herder by genetics, so…I herd them away to safety.
Howling, long barks mean: “There is an aggressive deer nearby.” My experience, a doe with a fawn can be cranky at the best of times. My front paws usually lift off the ground during this communication.
Cheery barks mean: “There is a deer, but a nice one nearby.”
Barking while running in a circle, repeatedly looking at my human, and wagging my tail means: “There is a squirrel, so let me go chase it.”
It’s exhausting teaching humans to understand my language, but since their sense of smell is lousy, they need to be warned if there is a creature in the neighbourhood.
After a strenuous session of teaching Kristina dog speak, we relax with a yoga class. I’m supposed to be doing the downward dog, but I’m just too tired.
Woof Woof.
