Crazy hair day. ’nuff said.

Woof Woof
Crazy hair day. ’nuff said.

Woof Woof
Farley here,
Boo Hoo. I’m lonely this week. Finn left me. You remember him? He’s the Icelandic Sheepdog who lived with us for two weeks. He went back to Calgary, where ever that is. I thought he’d moved in with us for good. Sometimes my peeps don’t explain things very well. Kristina still thinks I understand full sentences. Finn did bark that he missed the city, so I guess he needed his own life back with his peeps.
Now I have to play with the ball my myself. I carry it around and give Kristina my most pathetic look. She won’t wrestle with me for the ball, she won’t chase me across the snow, and she won’t bite the ball and try to pry it out of my mouth.

Someone send me another dog.
Woof Woof.
Farley here,
The song of coyotes reaches my ears for this first time this winter. Their barking, howling, and yipping echoes around me. A pack is crossing the range on the other side the golf course. They’re barreling through the trees, probably chasing something.
Finn picks up on the noise, and with alert ears and nose, checks for their scent. He’s a city dog and can’t tell the pack is far away. I don’t react much. Call me Mr. Cool.

Finn makes a move, as if to cross the golf course and chase the forest beasts, but Kristina tells him to stay.
He can’t take the excitement and attacks me instead.

Finn’s a goof, but I’m starting to get attached to him. Soon his humans will come and take him away. Bummer. I want him to stay and live with us.
Woof Woof
Farley here,
My FFL Finn has been here since Wednesday. He’s an Icelandic Sheepdog and knows all kinds of games. Dogs in Iceland must really like games. I just found out what a snowball fight is.
Kristina throws a ball at my face. I look at her as if she’s crazy. I have no idea what she wants me to do.

Kristina throws a snowball at Finn’s face. He catches it.

Can you see the snowball in his mouth? I’m getting the idea of what’s expected of me.
Kristina throws a snowball in between us and look what happens!

Finn is poised and ready. He’s concentrating on the snowball. I fly into the air. I just don’t know why.
Can you guess who caught it?
Woof Woof
Farley here,
I’ve got a new Friend For Life. Finn is so cool that snow doesn’t stick to his fur. I’m a little jealous. He gets to run around without shoes, and he does’t need to be dried with a towel when he gets home. I think he’s jealous of that because I get all the attention when we enter the hallway.
He does shed and I don’t, so there is that. Just sayin’.

He came for the weekend and guess what? We liked him so much, he’s coming back for a two-week holiday. Every dog needs a mountain vacation. I’m counting the days. One more FFL – I don’t like saying BFF, too exclusive – to add to my pack.
Woof Woof.
Farley here. I lost my shoe. It’s my fault. I’m hiking on a snow covered trail in the mountains, the sky is blue, my humans are chatting and my nose is alert to all dangers. That’s my job. I’m the protector. If there’s wildlife in the area, I’ll scare it away.
A Lynx has taken up residence in the backcountry behind my house. I haven’t seen it yet, but there are fresh tracks. The fresh tracks I found are following rabbit tracks. Now I’m not stupid. I think the Lynx is having its breakfast out here. What does this have to do with my shoe?
The scent of the Lynx wafts into my nose. It’s ripe. It’s just been here. I bound off the track – that my humans kindly packed flat with their snow shoes – jump over a mound to snow and scramble into the forest. The terrain is steep. I can barely keep my grip with these silly shoes I wear, but I manage. Then, my front paw sinks deep into the snow. I fall flat on my face. When I get up, my shoe is gone. I don’t care. There’s a lynx to catch.
You probably guessed, but I don’t catch the Lynx. I finally give up and return to Kristina and Matt. Matt goes hunting for my shoe. We’ve a long way to go to get home and my paw is cold. He tracks high in the forest while I wait with Kristina.
Now she’s a softy and my foot is freezing. I lift my paw to her to make sure she knows. She takes off her mitts and circles my paw with her palm. That keeps me warm, and we wait for Matt to return with my shoe.
I ask him if he found the Lynx. He laughs and holds up the shoe. They love me, I’m pretty sure they love me. Woof Woof.
Farley here,
I’m a carnivore. Let me be more specific. I like beef. I also like to chew sticks. Now the end of an unpeeled banana feels a bit like a reed, which if you are honest, could be mistaken for a stick. I try a little, but Kristina won’t let me chew it.

Then–
She gives me a piece of beef and I gobble it.
Her hand is out to me a second time. I take the food without looking at it, without smelling it. A bit of a failure as a dog, I guess. I just assume it’s beef. But no! My mouth fills with something soft that tastes horrible. I spit it out and it lands on the floor in front of me.
I sniff the glob and it smells suspiciously like the banana I tried to chew. What kind of crazy owner tries to feed their dog banana? I’m going to be more careful in the future.
Woof Woof
Farley here,
My peeps like lots of sports, but I’m a little more particular. I love nordic skiing and snow shoeing. So do they, but they also down hill ski. I can’t go with them when they downhill, something about a chair lift that I’m not allowed on. I don’t understand why. When we go winter hiking, snowshoeing or nordic skiing I have my own boots. Kristina calls them my hiking boots. I could wear them downhill skiing. I can run fast on the snow and keep up.

My peeps wear all kinds of gear to go outside, so I know as soon as the helmets come out of the closet, I’m going to be left alone. First, I cry. I give my saddest whine.
Kristina ignores my cry and does up her chin strap.
I run in circles around her legs, I wiggle my tail, and go into a submissive pose.
Kristina puts on her mitts.
I run to the front window and bark.
Kristina and Matt get in the car. I’ve lost this time, but I’ll try again next time.
Just to rub it in, when they return home Kristina shows me the view they get while skiing. Pretty Pawsome, I have to admit.They are looking down at our house where I’m alone, hiding in the basement closet. Being alone can really suck.

Maybe someone could invent downhill skis for dogs. Then I could go too.
Woof Woof.
Farley Here,
First I open my presents with my pal Murphy,

Then I sleep under my tree.

This Christmas morning thing is pawsome. Merry Christmas.
Woof Woof
I wake up to Kristina rubbing my head. Her hands massage my ears and she whispers, “Shhhh.” I open my eyes to darkness and feel my soft bed underneath my belly. My breathing is ragged and my legs are tired. This is is how I know I’ve been dreaming.
But what do dogs dream about?
This . . .

My friend Beans has a human who gives her cookies. All the time. On every walk. Who wouldn’t dream about that.
Now, I’m hungry, but there’s no way Kristina will feed me in the middle of the night. I know this, so I don’t even ask. She rubs my tummy until I fall back into a gentle sleep.
Woof Woof