tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-63909315612949426242024-03-14T13:29:44.214-05:00Adventures of Gus (and Oliver)The tales of two tail waggers.GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-35550332436602968982010-06-05T21:07:00.004-05:002010-06-05T21:39:51.175-05:00Geocaching!<div style="text-align: justify;">Well, it's been pretty boring around the house with both of the people we own working full time. We get pretty bored around here and want to try something new, so we now have signed up for geocaching! It was raining most of the day so Mama and Dad tried a couple indoor ones without us. (At the Mall of America.)<br /><br />The sun finally peeked out of the clouds for a VERY short while just before setting so we then headed to the park for the cache closest to our home. We sniffed and sniffed but could not find it! We found where it <span style="font-style: italic;">should have been</span>, but simply could not find the container. We'll keep trying - hound dogs should be experts at finding things! Maybe we'll go back with fresh eyes (and noses) tomorrow, or try some other caches.<br /><br />We did find a dead bird in the bushes nearby - our favorite! But, alas, the people kept the leashes too short to allow for a good roll in the carcass. They simply don't know what great fun they're missing!<br /><br />Hopefully this new hobby will help to keep Oliver's mind off his latest obsession - all the neighborhood rabbits who like to taunt him from just outside the window when he's stuck inside, or from just outside the fence when he's outside playing. He has literally gone insane and our humans think he should be institutionalized (or highly medicated). We'll see how it goes. We can't even walk together any more without him getting all hyper - jumping and barking like a rabid animal. Some neighbors commented on our walk to the park tonight that it sounded like he was being tortured. It really wasn't fun for any of us. We'd capture it on video for your viewing pleasure, but it's just too shameful. Please pray for his sanity (and ours).<br /><br />Missed you all!<br /><br />Gus<br /><br />------<br /><br /><div style="text-align: justify;">Here's Oliver and I looking about for our first cache - couldn't find it anywhere!<br />We vow to find it some day!<br /></div><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk9IQlxWQ889ock0COhFNVB56sNN6L39uuRi6teP8nQOoEsmAz00A77YwbfEzLpkyar_WF83Wq9x5v7fYHpLqhny4lEeEcjgIRYU8Hgd4o6Vl84XSERQIf01NEyJ83YtCP8sD-HeFDfEsp/s1600/downsized_0605002026.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk9IQlxWQ889ock0COhFNVB56sNN6L39uuRi6teP8nQOoEsmAz00A77YwbfEzLpkyar_WF83Wq9x5v7fYHpLqhny4lEeEcjgIRYU8Hgd4o6Vl84XSERQIf01NEyJ83YtCP8sD-HeFDfEsp/s400/downsized_0605002026.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5479478472453754082" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><img src="file:///Users/reneerein/Pictures/iPhoto%20Library/Modified/2010/Jun%205,%202010/downsized_0605002026.jpg" alt="" /></div>GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-57089229400148962992010-02-07T21:58:00.005-06:002010-02-07T22:36:02.223-06:00Superbowl Treats for us! (And, once again, long time no post.)Yes, I realize it has been FOREVER since I have posted on this blog. Alas, since beagles have no thumbs (or typing skills, for that matter), we are slave to Mom's schedule. She claims she has had priorities last year other than helping us keep our blog up to date... Trivial matters such as a daughter graduating from high school and a son's confirmation... No mention of us poor, neglected beagles for several months. WHAT? Well, she has promised to make herself available to take our dictation on a more frequent basis.<br /><br />Dad & Mom had their annual Superbowl party tonight, so lots of yummy treats for me and Oliver! Yippee!!! Our visitors are getting better at following our family's rules about not giving us food, but there are still lots of "happy accidents". The best was when Mom was cleaning up after the party. She dropped a big serving spoon half full of ground turkey meat (sloppy joe) on the floor and it splattered EVERYWHERE. Oliver and I, always on-call for clean-up duty, skillfully lapped up the floor, the cabinet doors and the front of the stove. S C O R E ! ! !GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-49100576999278433622009-05-17T19:12:00.005-05:002009-05-17T19:18:41.866-05:00New Breed?Today we saw a new breed at the dog park. Look who's swimming with the pups! They don't let dogs swim at the people beach, so should this little guy be allowed to swim at ours? Eewwww. I hope they have some kind of hazmat-type shower at their house! This is <span style="font-style: italic;">definitely</span> not a kid-friendly swimming pond. (But at least he appeared to be having <span style="font-style: italic;">lots</span> of fun with the doggies!)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo75RJHOeaDEwp38NXPN0Of2XY1ZdIxuRe42n2_HQ5E62_Qzenhkm5xAnon84wDrBgh5oDrxXgZTeQDwmfMN7EPGNo3Po84cUov1h5Ckuxyw9Fgg8ngBFn4_9C-KCZ_NfEElhyYGiHi1Gq/s1600-h/HPIM2102.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo75RJHOeaDEwp38NXPN0Of2XY1ZdIxuRe42n2_HQ5E62_Qzenhkm5xAnon84wDrBgh5oDrxXgZTeQDwmfMN7EPGNo3Po84cUov1h5Ckuxyw9Fgg8ngBFn4_9C-KCZ_NfEElhyYGiHi1Gq/s400/HPIM2102.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5336950713080745794" border="0" /></a>GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-4496136190362801952009-05-07T21:22:00.005-05:002009-05-07T21:39:33.971-05:00Pathetic PupsWe recently had a trip to the vet - both of us, plus Felix - to get our annual shots. No fun, no fun at all. Of course, we were fine seconds after the sting was over, but we kept our pathetic look for as long as possible to get the extra special attention. Just show a bandaged leg to Mama and she melts - extra snuggles for us! Humans are such suckers.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWUrsrdntmD12h5q2_yb9YYQdvXEXxXBH3QZE0BhL3FblDOCb7Gi9d76gmSq5YP1_j8f8syQQBm2IQuzp96TyRupDYW023YAxU0-jIFCLwp_o2uAsEV0C2-W9J19MQddtiWbIdpDHDS-fU/s1600-h/HPIM2018.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWUrsrdntmD12h5q2_yb9YYQdvXEXxXBH3QZE0BhL3FblDOCb7Gi9d76gmSq5YP1_j8f8syQQBm2IQuzp96TyRupDYW023YAxU0-jIFCLwp_o2uAsEV0C2-W9J19MQddtiWbIdpDHDS-fU/s400/HPIM2018.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5333273959315991858" border="0" /></a>GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-58859634578106444902009-05-06T21:05:00.005-05:002009-05-06T21:19:07.489-05:00Oliver the Pogo BeagleI've had a hard time finding time to blog ever since Mama took a full-time job. (Go figure.) I've been too busy taking care of my new little brother, Oliver. Here's just a small sample of his crazy antics. Mama was standing outside the door which drove him nuts. (He gets jumpy whenever she comes home, but maybe not <span style="font-style:italic;">quite</span> to this extent.<br /><br /><object width="560" height="340"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/JgPqq_dcrpw&hl=en&fs=1"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/JgPqq_dcrpw&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="560" height="340"></embed></object>GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-64034344719584386602009-01-01T18:24:00.003-06:002009-01-01T18:37:46.113-06:00A New Year, A New LookHappy New Year, everybody! With the new year, we thought we'd start a new look for our blog as well. Since it appears that Oliver is a permanent fixture in our family, I figured I'd give him top billing in the blog title, and maybe he'll even get to post occasionally. I also added a couple new features to the blog, including "The Daily Puppy" because, well, who doesn't love puppies?! I also added a Guest Book at the bottom of the page, so please scroll down and sign in. We're always amazed to meet the fur friends (and people) that visit our blog from so many different corners of the world. So sign the guest book, post your comments and make yourself known!GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-90828297761685252092008-12-22T18:15:00.000-06:002008-12-22T18:56:27.785-06:00Nose to the Ground - AlwaysI know, I know. These pictures are obviously not very recent, seeing as our great State of Minnesota is covered in snow and ice and we have been having sub-zero temperatures. These photos were from a dog park trip just short of two months ago. None of the pictures turned out very good, however, Mama found it kind of funny that EVERY photo shows me with my nose to the ground. She always gives me grief about that.<br /><br />Oliver's sniffer is not nearly as "developed" as mine. He's more interested in playing.<br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHJAo-WYhZtpRYXiJUkKITzDFO7vZJrwZNqwXlySbvei0vdtvZqNS5KkQ47SVircnqJxVwKWPkKgACDCwgx-4RT6xSt-QFzNSY7hlSYK1sev5NnOb0gYbH3RbBPAfyiak_5rHcCXDPl391/s1600-h/HPIM1987.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHJAo-WYhZtpRYXiJUkKITzDFO7vZJrwZNqwXlySbvei0vdtvZqNS5KkQ47SVircnqJxVwKWPkKgACDCwgx-4RT6xSt-QFzNSY7hlSYK1sev5NnOb0gYbH3RbBPAfyiak_5rHcCXDPl391/s400/HPIM1987.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282776324607061362" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8nTJb96nXwskDIVYu1WsqlpIUlfqnc4iiKPko8DTWLCTami4c2yyzj9D_5ihyphenhyphen-rTw-WkCThHpEIXFBmVxZz8wx2-V2O5yVMolsgyWOyGnZwZxJ17vsLgOn1gq3pWxGgr8RtuGFjhJb3iD/s1600-h/HPIM1985.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8nTJb96nXwskDIVYu1WsqlpIUlfqnc4iiKPko8DTWLCTami4c2yyzj9D_5ihyphenhyphen-rTw-WkCThHpEIXFBmVxZz8wx2-V2O5yVMolsgyWOyGnZwZxJ17vsLgOn1gq3pWxGgr8RtuGFjhJb3iD/s400/HPIM1985.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282776315673574066" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdzjDRY113HxCzusCoRv6eDDm99R9Y_aVgF2_d8RR1wzXT6zfSvza37E9__2a56qfdpuDzEupQxLQogiIboJWcLHODNRPKrYRWT-ntVEviz-eHgl13sgVCEdcBi9Eyx5_RwY6Fg1Sj5WEN/s1600-h/HPIM1983.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdzjDRY113HxCzusCoRv6eDDm99R9Y_aVgF2_d8RR1wzXT6zfSvza37E9__2a56qfdpuDzEupQxLQogiIboJWcLHODNRPKrYRWT-ntVEviz-eHgl13sgVCEdcBi9Eyx5_RwY6Fg1Sj5WEN/s400/HPIM1983.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282776303585155522" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDHDcgWmNjpviQ9JGdI6iI-POYfP0_np_2ov7C0cpIKYJQ_RvuteWvTd5GdDlFcbJ5an6lbL6UTrbgI9HnQlg-QtUZkkFdJVL4GULoAF3J9v3z23Iv1apUW2pxVfiFpjU-QY5zm8Mw04E9/s1600-h/HPIM1981.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDHDcgWmNjpviQ9JGdI6iI-POYfP0_np_2ov7C0cpIKYJQ_RvuteWvTd5GdDlFcbJ5an6lbL6UTrbgI9HnQlg-QtUZkkFdJVL4GULoAF3J9v3z23Iv1apUW2pxVfiFpjU-QY5zm8Mw04E9/s400/HPIM1981.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282776298416889090" /></a>GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-88284512281053985022008-12-07T11:00:00.001-06:002008-12-07T11:17:54.681-06:00In Memory of Percival Platypus, our Murdered Friend<div style="text-align: justify;">In light of the recent murder of our friend, Percival Platypus, I am posting this old photo to show that at one time he was a beloved friend. In Mama's attempt to find acceptable items for Oliver to chew, she purchased a wonderful goody-bag of delicious treats that would not contribute to my girth. Shown below is the sole photo of Percival, the purple platypus, who was - for two brief but happy months - Oliver's best friend. He squeaked when you pressed his belly, he made curious crinkling noises when you touched his feet (or flappers, if you will). He flew through the air with the greatest of ease. He replaced the boring old ball as Oliver's favorite fetch toy. He was Oliver's constant companion, especially on the non-daycare days when Oliver would spend time in his kennel.<br /><br />Nobody knows what poor Percival did to set off Oliver, but....<br />one day - best friend; next day - torn to pieces in what can only be described as a horrifying crime scene. Poor Percival. He was such a loyal companion. Now he is only another entry on the list of items Oliver has destroyed.<br /><br />Hey, little brother. If you're lonely now, you have only yourself to blame.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWI0NtqUA2arpNwtMpnvVxedC4qIZy6X0ZEX8krglH77QA-db0_py3_Ae1qCG8CCYJw3G58XfpfxhECfVWSLOFZ0p-8iHaT-xeotpIBVLIemE_n2UQZoAvbG9Hutq3PNr2o6k6Pti6CgbO/s1600-h/HPIM1862.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWI0NtqUA2arpNwtMpnvVxedC4qIZy6X0ZEX8krglH77QA-db0_py3_Ae1qCG8CCYJw3G58XfpfxhECfVWSLOFZ0p-8iHaT-xeotpIBVLIemE_n2UQZoAvbG9Hutq3PNr2o6k6Pti6CgbO/s400/HPIM1862.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277094648328232402" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /></div>GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-58082930455100418762008-11-11T07:52:00.000-06:002008-12-21T18:19:59.188-06:00Long Time, No Blog - Time to Catch Up!<div style="text-align: justify;">Whoa, I've been so busy with my new little brother Oliver that I have forgotten to blog. Plus, my mama started a full-time job right around the time of my last blog (purely coincidental - I'm sure we're still her highest priority). Anyway, here's what we've been up to lately...<br /><br />Oliver's favorite flavor is brown leather. He has eaten every pair of brown leather sandals Mama owns. The first to go were her favorite Naturalizers which she wore daily all summer long. She replaced them with another pair and he ate those, too. Yum. Then a third pair, and finally she gave up on trying to find the perfect brown sandal since it was close to the end of the season anyway. Since it was still nice out (early fall), Mama just switched to her less favorite light tan sandals - they were delicious as well. During those last few days of good weather, she finally resorted to a pair of brown sandals she hated - they were pretty ugly and never very comfortable, but the sandal budget had been completely blown out of the water by that time of year. He found that even the ugly, uncomfortable brown shoes made a perfect dessert.<br /><br />Don't get me wrong, Oliver wasn't allowed free run of the home 24/7. At that time, he was being kenneled at night and followed like a hawk during the day. It's just that, given even a second of opportunity, he would quietly sneak to the door, grab the shoe of his choice (ALWAYS Mama's - he doesn't care for the Daddy, Girl or Boy flavors) and create instant destruction. Can't trust the little bugger for even a second. Keeps my standing as "the good dog" pretty solid. Also, the teens didn't quite get the meaning of "watching like a hawk" and instead they would just send pic messages by phone to Mama during work showing the latest shoe-victim. One day he even ate a phone - completely out of character since there was no brown leather on it. The phone did, however, have a black leather case (another yummy flavor), but he chewed up all the interesting metal parts and the screen as well. That's when we discovered tables and countertops (in addition to shoe racks) are not safe places to keep items.<br /><br /><br />Shortly after Mama started working full-time the teens went back to school so Oliver, being a source of property destruction and potential financial ruin, was kenneled during the day. Turns out that doesn't work so well for Oliver either. Evidently we were blessed to rescue a dog with separation anxiety. Luckily for Oliver, Mama loves unconditionally and she began to take him to doggie daycare. Turns out, Oliver LOVES it! I've tried it a few times and it exhausts me (I'm at the ripe old age of 5), but he can run and wrestle all day and still have plenty of energy left over to torture me when he gets home. However, it tires him out enough that he is much better behaved at the end of the day.<br /><br />Oliver thrived in daycare and Felix and I had our much-needed quiet time back. Life was good. He goes to Woof Dah doggie daycare and has a blast all day long. They have webcams so you can check on the puppers if you like, and the staff there has been wonderful with him. They'll throw a birthday party for your dog, and even provide the guests! They had a costume contest for the dogs on Halloween - here's a pic of Oliver in his bumblebee costume. (He didn't win. I would have never tolerated the costume the way he did. He was a trooper.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_JXaYVhLYrydwMCWg26cvNFZ67Qvs5_QUT-KFXE91lzlDBCu19KzewQ5hS8W8-3Bx6A4Re5L_-YD6X0WxZWe0mjlE7hIdssafx2K9E0P0oTqVophjuDssdd-im1aFVR4JCyAxesTKCYd7/s1600-h/HPIM1988.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_JXaYVhLYrydwMCWg26cvNFZ67Qvs5_QUT-KFXE91lzlDBCu19KzewQ5hS8W8-3Bx6A4Re5L_-YD6X0WxZWe0mjlE7hIdssafx2K9E0P0oTqVophjuDssdd-im1aFVR4JCyAxesTKCYd7/s400/HPIM1988.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277088121763124450" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnPbFT1JOgi9HOc_FyeWzjlT65e5v4oSIB9g4GUSrIdYSsLEtCE7SdJ42BVPXV_xBSF3iDtWgL-zeIIyx-tghcJMoyEMm4hxfzHJnc3DlatEL5nd62Wr6nJZchxl8pSNc1SEhuB9uO5nHs/s1600-h/HPIM1989.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnPbFT1JOgi9HOc_FyeWzjlT65e5v4oSIB9g4GUSrIdYSsLEtCE7SdJ42BVPXV_xBSF3iDtWgL-zeIIyx-tghcJMoyEMm4hxfzHJnc3DlatEL5nd62Wr6nJZchxl8pSNc1SEhuB9uO5nHs/s400/HPIM1989.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277088115176698658" border="0" /></a><br />I notice in these costume photos, that he is cleverly concealing the spot on the sofa cushion where he chewed a corner off. Pretty smart by blocking the view of his destruction with his cuteness.<br /><br />Anyway, all that being said, Oliver is a pretty great little brother and I love him a lot. I've gained quite a bit more gray fur since he joined our little family, but he also keeps me young and reminds me of how fun it is to be a dog. I'm also teaching him about the joy of a good, quiet nap. He's beginning to catch on.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivmKlQ00ClUD0sQ62ly38OcH0EBvQlGLaXKXg6RM9JaT8avtffDW3y6NYKZJHODgJileSqx4e-9nqKessG-WmnCznV6RrBe_c_U2jCz8ekUWV9DXqWHl7wpo6K3FAqVekbiTRlmpPwkJnz/s1600-h/HPIM1991.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivmKlQ00ClUD0sQ62ly38OcH0EBvQlGLaXKXg6RM9JaT8avtffDW3y6NYKZJHODgJileSqx4e-9nqKessG-WmnCznV6RrBe_c_U2jCz8ekUWV9DXqWHl7wpo6K3FAqVekbiTRlmpPwkJnz/s400/HPIM1991.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277090522834468594" border="0" /></a></div>GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-17226063503052743942008-08-25T17:56:00.001-05:002008-08-25T18:39:56.787-05:00OK, I guess having a brother is kind of cool.So, it turns out that having a brother is not so bad. It's actually kind of fun. He's keeping me young. We especially love to play bitey-face. Oliver originally initiated the game, but now sometimes I like to get him started too. The best thing is that we usually don't bark when we play, so we don't get in trouble with the neighbors!<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwBa3D0irI0iPGEJ_k52dmwNYWYVBu2UDNtxjEQ1SZX_jD4mjMbbKr7s3FG9SiK8eF43EH5TKMq2ecHYu94Qg' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />When we've both had enough rough-housing, we like to nap. We usually sleep "near" each other, as opposed to "with" each other, but every once in a while, Mom catches us doing this:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAozw_nqdluy0c3iOrK_y3shfxxoE2IhqsIdo0_LtY12QKH0-gwxF3AWdmuW65fc6gT6r-IQzMnF7ZAUjXRdpuxMo2Uvrlq2YGXjyW_rk75ACy_CB7PoA4Vw3Tzm722t8SXKwAuCG9ZXs2/s1600-h/HPIM1830.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAozw_nqdluy0c3iOrK_y3shfxxoE2IhqsIdo0_LtY12QKH0-gwxF3AWdmuW65fc6gT6r-IQzMnF7ZAUjXRdpuxMo2Uvrlq2YGXjyW_rk75ACy_CB7PoA4Vw3Tzm722t8SXKwAuCG9ZXs2/s400/HPIM1830.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238596692789682242" /></a><br /><br />And we have a lot of fun on road trips, sometimes even sharing the same seat:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJn5A8hAUOfdj6dWYQ-Hkj_37Q5V08g1g0nNEn7TMfaxk1fQVmPQVmDwGPM6ShWC1Da0_-1dPBhR6CgfBpMtf87RrYAjJltdIYVm9rp9P3K4p5oWPZsulWgFSx6fOzvU5VuqznC7-a_lIa/s1600-h/HPIM1856.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJn5A8hAUOfdj6dWYQ-Hkj_37Q5V08g1g0nNEn7TMfaxk1fQVmPQVmDwGPM6ShWC1Da0_-1dPBhR6CgfBpMtf87RrYAjJltdIYVm9rp9P3K4p5oWPZsulWgFSx6fOzvU5VuqznC7-a_lIa/s400/HPIM1856.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238597339048970786" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0pp0hawXM2HmXYbYvyqox1r2Y6GLQrpiwOwevwrsBLDo8Bwx77lDQTFlOTvUhdy6VLNTZv976hcGXULeLA7Rp9Kmc7YdfbvIfAFSilY5L_F5hLF5MBoMJ8b8mRyptSht7ewpvsIgPVQW1/s1600-h/0821081047.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0pp0hawXM2HmXYbYvyqox1r2Y6GLQrpiwOwevwrsBLDo8Bwx77lDQTFlOTvUhdy6VLNTZv976hcGXULeLA7Rp9Kmc7YdfbvIfAFSilY5L_F5hLF5MBoMJ8b8mRyptSht7ewpvsIgPVQW1/s400/0821081047.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238597338714215138" /></a><br /><br />But the only bad thing is that Oliver pretty much freaks out whenever we get left alone. Our "people" started out putting him in his kennel when they all had to leave the house, but he freaked out pretty bad and they thought they would see if he did better having free run of the house with me. The result is that he scratched a big section of rug-yarn out of the living room rug and now it has a bald spot. (Mom didn't take a picture with the giant ball of rug-yarn all piled up. She just clipped it all off and this is the result.) I'm pretty sure this kind of behavior will continue to secure my place in the home as FAVORITE.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicnFd2533gyAtPDDTAyNcf9Y0PXR5nBUybrQp9r9Ig7GOXtUGBXyTEzrlMIn9sOF_FKmscUTbgOLdeZYyEAwGfTzcZOFNrGBlnhistugb12JQ0aQX1M0BUFR5yVxO1DI5xByPKktSZ4A8Z/s1600-h/HPIM1859.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicnFd2533gyAtPDDTAyNcf9Y0PXR5nBUybrQp9r9Ig7GOXtUGBXyTEzrlMIn9sOF_FKmscUTbgOLdeZYyEAwGfTzcZOFNrGBlnhistugb12JQ0aQX1M0BUFR5yVxO1DI5xByPKktSZ4A8Z/s400/HPIM1859.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238603431033331458" /></a>GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-33937294333163519102008-08-02T15:26:00.000-05:002008-08-02T15:45:54.571-05:00Oliver's First Trip to the Dog ParkYesterday was real nice outside so my Mom and Dad took Oliver and me to the dog park. It was Oliver's first time going off-leash and he was a little hesitant at first, but he warmed right up. The Humane Society caretaker told us that Oliver had acted skittish in a play session with larger dogs, but we all thought he did OK at the park for the first time. Of course, he picked largest dog there to play with (a gentle but big Rottweiler). In this video taken on the beach, he barks at the Rottie then quickly runs away. Then he does another "run-by" barking. He was upset that the ball was in the water and the other dog wasn't fetching it, so he went in the lake (for the first time ever, we think) to get it for him. Like me, he only goes in the lake up to his chest, never getting out to where his feet can't touch the bottom.<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxgJ0GTqzgsMX4fUqGJT4LT-sur_a1g_E3xTQSnyCN6Y-O5ICnRlM1_3alxbnThLfkKfiy5rRHsv5kPXa2QVw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />We ignored each other for the majority of our off-leash time so I could sniff in peace and he could meet other puppers. He engaged almost every dog in a game of "chase the little guy" and I was glad that he worked off more energy than me. When it was time to go, he stuck pretty close by me and Mom & Dad when we're walking on the path. Whew! I was worried I might have to round him up in the woods or something. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX7ZCUxNvgaKpOEaQ-5vCW9kLM6jvZiPUacQo6G6jDoipLG9ReX3hpUejyrVHu7EZWAVaFq2-R56TjzNENIjUD411DozYItujjFWjfvWg9Wb91Rbu7mRqKBIHU81eyFW0EWF3z5EbO5iK9/s1600-h/HPIM1808.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgX7ZCUxNvgaKpOEaQ-5vCW9kLM6jvZiPUacQo6G6jDoipLG9ReX3hpUejyrVHu7EZWAVaFq2-R56TjzNENIjUD411DozYItujjFWjfvWg9Wb91Rbu7mRqKBIHU81eyFW0EWF3z5EbO5iK9/s400/HPIM1808.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5230024310418499986" /></a><br /><br />I hope Mom & Dad don't remember how difficult it was to get me to follow them when they first got me. (Oh well, I didn't have the habit of piddling in the house like Oliver does now and then - I'm pretty sure that will firmly secure my place as FAVORITE.)GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-21443366481743815332008-07-28T18:15:00.000-05:002008-07-28T18:29:11.039-05:00I guess I have a brother now.Well, little Oliver is STILL here in my house... and he has a crate next to my mom's bed... and chewies... and blankets... and lots of love and affection from MY family... and Mom got an extension for the leash so we have to walk together... so it appears he's here to stay. I guess I have a brother.<br /><br />The good news is that he does NOT get to sleep in my bed (with Mom & Dad). He has to sleep in his crate. He also doesn't get to be on the FURniture yet - that's still solely my territory. He has to earn that privilege (by not eating the sofa or peeing in the the house or any other such nastiness for awhile).<br /><br />Oh, and I hope he stops humping me soon. I turn around and put him in his place, and we end up playing for a good long time over it all, but all this activity is making me a very tired beagle.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdC5GStB7w8HZZ50Jd6SkkRmigkA_fYc4qcVVw3DLmwmn6fXiqKwn2VrbOanxAa526NKELdTkfLTvAtifnxTUqoIPi9wReVIr9yY2CvbWqmB4qNZMsofln1yfDmdwAgQXOYU6eZVXFMa2e/s1600-h/HPIM1782.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdC5GStB7w8HZZ50Jd6SkkRmigkA_fYc4qcVVw3DLmwmn6fXiqKwn2VrbOanxAa526NKELdTkfLTvAtifnxTUqoIPi9wReVIr9yY2CvbWqmB4qNZMsofln1yfDmdwAgQXOYU6eZVXFMa2e/s400/HPIM1782.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228210932350425442" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguIuoLtYzBh3WqGKoOWWDdAVvuDpLhzjYqiUTgsRRz9Q44elmTEu3HLiPTG4AJybetl2OEnooKczp1hHXUf2Vd5Bd5E7pGrzXTxLZeu1fZwJDkqhhZyQDd79KpA808qkQhdvtFtJKJRBXy/s1600-h/HPIM1783.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguIuoLtYzBh3WqGKoOWWDdAVvuDpLhzjYqiUTgsRRz9Q44elmTEu3HLiPTG4AJybetl2OEnooKczp1hHXUf2Vd5Bd5E7pGrzXTxLZeu1fZwJDkqhhZyQDd79KpA808qkQhdvtFtJKJRBXy/s400/HPIM1783.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228210937827477266" /></a>GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-60259712276420363932008-07-26T21:30:00.000-05:002008-07-26T21:46:19.187-05:00Dog Days of SummerToday was the annual Dog Days of Summer event at our local dog park. Since Oliver still hasn't left our house, he came along with us. (It's beginning to look like he's here to STAY. I'm not sure what to think about that.) I got to play the "Bobbing for Hot Dogs" game TWICE since Oliver didn't want to take his turn! The rule is supposed to be "three bites for a buck", but I completely cleared out the pool and they had to re-stock the hot dogs before the next dog could play. <br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh97cKSCqCcarFowvm6acJ3NPIWAqnFigp71-s_zA_dHi6egNZFJhPHRjFHilo7-_2ID5ZMgZbjaV3JKuQ_rriEDSZQehzgI42ZlMezUMTytTON-Ca4HGhCS-eEUlaLiNvG0Nkfe5K-mC05/s1600-h/HPIM1785.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh97cKSCqCcarFowvm6acJ3NPIWAqnFigp71-s_zA_dHi6egNZFJhPHRjFHilo7-_2ID5ZMgZbjaV3JKuQ_rriEDSZQehzgI42ZlMezUMTytTON-Ca4HGhCS-eEUlaLiNvG0Nkfe5K-mC05/s400/HPIM1785.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227518217300266898" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD_mFtjDlxFNHbhTei7q5v0lZjA-0awhcRI9OQNRNkvv1XF1jPLTAJ_NfUcgHpGGfWQrHHUXut4TMVKZMN2P-OFaUbMxrgmGkWrt6oP8q1xDTSMwJ8JlRrY9hltW4bmWECLbqTwN3QjnPV/s1600-h/HPIM1788.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgD_mFtjDlxFNHbhTei7q5v0lZjA-0awhcRI9OQNRNkvv1XF1jPLTAJ_NfUcgHpGGfWQrHHUXut4TMVKZMN2P-OFaUbMxrgmGkWrt6oP8q1xDTSMwJ8JlRrY9hltW4bmWECLbqTwN3QjnPV/s400/HPIM1788.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227518226532026290" /></a><br /><br />We also watched a demonstration by the police department's K-9 unit which was very fun. Those lucky dogs get to go to work every day! There were several tents filled with tables from different vendors with doggy-related products and services. Most of them were handing out some real cool gift bags, but Mom kept saying she was having a hard time handling two dogs at once and didn't have extra arms to carry bags. She did pick up one on the way out and there were TONS of goodies in there! Next time I'll have to wear a back pack to help her carry stuff.<br /><br />There were more demonstrations and other stuff to see (and smell), plus we didn't even go into the actual play area of the dog park yet, but Oliver was pretty tired so we packed up and went home. He couldn't even hold his head up in the van. This little guy is starting to grow on me. Maybe we can keep him?!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRN6MyDqURgfCS-ImPg4F3ulEKPDJPTvD8-jRSdw3TcIJV3zTplYx6HBMwtWNQLcJT4jLYm707tbWR6vdQPywZlBXxBNGYbPn1Fucu62G5ZZAh6_A_R3v35K4ak5yXE89n7hljrK182bcD/s1600-h/HPIM1790.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRN6MyDqURgfCS-ImPg4F3ulEKPDJPTvD8-jRSdw3TcIJV3zTplYx6HBMwtWNQLcJT4jLYm707tbWR6vdQPywZlBXxBNGYbPn1Fucu62G5ZZAh6_A_R3v35K4ak5yXE89n7hljrK182bcD/s400/HPIM1790.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227518233014501042" /></a>GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-9929171581335160032008-07-25T19:06:00.000-05:002008-07-25T19:25:29.322-05:00Playtime!After a full day of sizing each other up, Oliver and I have decided to have a good play session. I'm even willing to share my outside water dish with him. I guess he's kind of a cute little guy. I still wonder when he's going to go home.<br /><br /><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dwsy6RFKLeIjpNBGVS5XIbvUAzwViRdovwM10pN6i4IaV0tUkQpGwTcDLbAOyP1Bb_aNwvnTxMvqZW_3Pb6lw' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-49706007991524272602008-07-25T18:28:00.000-05:002008-07-25T18:42:46.871-05:00We have a visitor!Well, today we went back to the Humane Society and saw Oliver again. I didn't pay much attention to him, as I was busy sniffing all the wonderful doggy scents. But then Mom and Teen Girl put a leash on him and we all went home in the van! We've had LONG walks and lots of play sessions in the back yard. I've also been getting lots of special treats and extra attention from my mom, while Teen Girl has been giving Oliver special attention. Anyway, I wonder when this dog is going back????? <div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl5wdCb0hOs0GZti4EkiCB2rSmipBRSszgwtvwXUZGNF1fMDoMfse2Bzd_Ih3gkIsgpDiUIlYYz5gjuVMarf5no4Uq-eQ4XKqjZOgYVAufAZc15TFuUvNKI8sQN0N4TZH3g0GTiZCEEt61/s1600-h/HPIM1750.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl5wdCb0hOs0GZti4EkiCB2rSmipBRSszgwtvwXUZGNF1fMDoMfse2Bzd_Ih3gkIsgpDiUIlYYz5gjuVMarf5no4Uq-eQ4XKqjZOgYVAufAZc15TFuUvNKI8sQN0N4TZH3g0GTiZCEEt61/s400/HPIM1750.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227099715386118082" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZP_9j3d7BvwNGkAHQhkvJcQpLNBUHAdmE8XStJBtknBwUx82lOmNwtyMld4iHb955QPNhCLLRxMuQ1S5BO4CeSTr91fHXH8cKX6NNVIBBvT1wbsjbYRb-yklbqLPrBxgRHsn3cFSVDZ9D/s1600-h/HPIM1765.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZP_9j3d7BvwNGkAHQhkvJcQpLNBUHAdmE8XStJBtknBwUx82lOmNwtyMld4iHb955QPNhCLLRxMuQ1S5BO4CeSTr91fHXH8cKX6NNVIBBvT1wbsjbYRb-yklbqLPrBxgRHsn3cFSVDZ9D/s400/HPIM1765.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227099725523245138" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilsQAKsr3D1cSloNAH81cq-LI2Yj4fiDYiy-AMqk6wGaBjo4_zmigFpZYli30kzICqATtT9pfvzDLugJTdJFFYXHnb7cslmmqve9TusFwYx1niUrLI-e7uZfhwU7D6_57Lmuj_2YkpyjMP/s1600-h/HPIM1766.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilsQAKsr3D1cSloNAH81cq-LI2Yj4fiDYiy-AMqk6wGaBjo4_zmigFpZYli30kzICqATtT9pfvzDLugJTdJFFYXHnb7cslmmqve9TusFwYx1niUrLI-e7uZfhwU7D6_57Lmuj_2YkpyjMP/s400/HPIM1766.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227099733717018546" /></a><br /><br />It sure took a LOT of hard work on my part before this pup was pooped enough to take a snooze.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsjAaYi_RPXsWYsnPOfakSmLfMeNK1ThN4CqojwFbD1k2TkibecxYab5jszpZh1vqCaBqqVN-8lEkJMtVRutF399Ygvq-U4A7hX5hTVneHBJmahy-3kvqxH7__v_vm5a3xglauOlMYreGQ/s1600-h/HPIM1778.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsjAaYi_RPXsWYsnPOfakSmLfMeNK1ThN4CqojwFbD1k2TkibecxYab5jszpZh1vqCaBqqVN-8lEkJMtVRutF399Ygvq-U4A7hX5hTVneHBJmahy-3kvqxH7__v_vm5a3xglauOlMYreGQ/s400/HPIM1778.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5227099741183998594" /></a>GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-72934221624298210442008-07-25T01:16:00.000-05:002008-07-25T01:28:06.645-05:00A Strange VisitToday my mom came home very excited and wanted the whole family to go for a ride in the van together, so we all piled in and visited the Minnesota Valley Humane Society. (I was hoping they weren't going to "return" me; that is where I lived before the house I own now.) When we got there we all went for a walk with a little beagle named Oliver, where we got to pee on bushes together and sniff each others' butts. Then we went to a small room where Oliver played with a bunch of little balls and I sniffed up the room real good. Then my mom went up to the front desk and bought a kennel and the Humane Society lady came and took Oliver away and told Mom, "See you tomorrow." We brought the kennel home and Teen Girl cleaned it up for me real nice and put soft comfy blankies in there, but I'm not sure if she remembers that I DON'T "DO" KENNELS, so I'm not sure what that's all about. What a strange day.GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-17558488323077447812008-07-23T10:48:00.000-05:002008-07-23T11:42:54.240-05:00Mmmmm, summertime treats!<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dyzWaYAylq7-Nw30_zXBgjzDJWF9OkeZ9Q96OSZ4wCC-BJF3Fk3607YRdqo_Cm38VuSVyjgDJwzjsEswcinTQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br /><div>My grandma is visiting and she brought me ice cream! Grandma's the best!<div><br /></div><div>Of course, I was third in line. First, Mom got ALL of the chocolate and MOST of the ice cream. Then old Felix took a turn with the ice cream. "Age before beauty" is the rule around here. Finally, I took my turn and really "went to town" on the ice cream cup. When I'm finished with a dish, it's sparkly clean. I make sure to get every speck, crumb, morsel or smudge of food or drink from every dish I am entrusted to clean. I have been in training with my family since my date of adoption and have worked my way up the ladder, currently holding the title Dishwasher-in-Chief. I have polished my dishwashing skills to perfection, and am currently seeking to offer my services on a professional basis. I am having a bit of a mid-life crisis, trying to decide whether to seek employment with a professional dishwashing company, hang my own shingle and offer my dishwashing services to the public, or possibly offer college-level dishwashing courses to other aspiring dishwashers. So many decisions to make... I think I'll sleep on it.<br /><br /><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjii1tumnAGEyBDiFAiBqqFO0TUCCCVq93NJsMgClo2UIzb0jGAhZ0_WHaoZoL7W7UYw6JVt3RdnB9C7h-SU6mhXvCytYvXEajmffyhzW9R8o2-K1SRY2m2wtV7HVG9a3kZg8YRa4nTZfJK/s400/11-30.01+Felix+%26+Gus+cuddling.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5226248663443573650" /><div><br /></div><div></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></div>GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-21658312288113715072008-06-27T15:42:00.001-05:002008-06-27T16:16:44.881-05:00Minnesota ZooMom went to the Minnesota Zoo earlier this week with Grandma Linda & Aunt Patty, and all I got was... NOTHING. No fair! They got to enjoy the new bear exhibit, where the bears frolic just like the dogs at the dog park. I would have loved to join in, but Mom tells me I'm not allowed at the zoo. I'll just have to add that to my list of places I'm not welcome. (You'll want to turn your sound down or off to watch the bears - it's just a bunch of background noise from the crowd.)<br /><br /> <iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dylFhIEWk1H6cVPnN3AyA6MK8KMfrN1aeW5dforlP_qYD_znIt7C-_wL-M3oIorbJUwdcl_Z5k54EZbSOXgEQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe><br /><br />They also got to see these cute little guys who sit up just like I do when I beg.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG2mBSyRN-xlltHs15FMl3Xz2iF4z7xvfUixa2UbaKp2c5EaUACZZdktfxjjY9KsR-NMcsm3S4bEjxBWKJrMIYy9s5Gk6KHag37ds77bgiKGI7ybGuFfUsW63UYT4QOzgHoKh_nTmql8N2/s1600-h/HPIM1672.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG2mBSyRN-xlltHs15FMl3Xz2iF4z7xvfUixa2UbaKp2c5EaUACZZdktfxjjY9KsR-NMcsm3S4bEjxBWKJrMIYy9s5Gk6KHag37ds77bgiKGI7ybGuFfUsW63UYT4QOzgHoKh_nTmql8N2/s400/HPIM1672.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216668521807695410" /></a><br /><br />And also a nice little kitty cat who would probably get along great with Felix.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMDGnNSFYhcqbRI1sruo09_OfT0s9_n0dbF2eff-O9PI_YHqfQwDIe7r6kHOErNhTO2cgdpj19H1NOBLzaP166ZEPZGIvO7js8TTJYvfT3cuUwsD6A7dcZlfSNnj04pmVol3Mv0rxVfteV/s1600-h/HPIM1666.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMDGnNSFYhcqbRI1sruo09_OfT0s9_n0dbF2eff-O9PI_YHqfQwDIe7r6kHOErNhTO2cgdpj19H1NOBLzaP166ZEPZGIvO7js8TTJYvfT3cuUwsD6A7dcZlfSNnj04pmVol3Mv0rxVfteV/s400/HPIM1666.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216669844234718082" /></a>GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-31506437505197751672008-06-27T15:33:00.000-05:002008-06-27T16:44:17.969-05:00Bumper CropWe've had a bumper crop of birch seeds this year. This photo and video are from AFTER Dad actually VACUUMED the back yard patio. Felix loves to roll in the seeds so he can gather them all up and deposit them in Mom & Dad's bed. They really appreciate it. Mom also appreciates all of the extra sweeping and vacuuming around the house, and the increased frequency of rug-washing. (But in the absence of seeds to roll in, he chooses dirt or sand. We're not sure which is worse.) Yeah! Thank you, Felix, for the extra housework!<div><br /></div><div><br /></div><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWkdHrL3HfRAaB8ZjDelZ3AObcPVMkw_iWkHe9RMpWS_xXeeShHaduf4GYVp8oMPTe4NKOWUABgitDVXu6EAnD4dzNbM9dQ_MN6ktg5fXQrlidRt4CNDxm7Y_4FS1GmB-7ajyuGdpdE5Zy/s1600-h/HPIM1728.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWkdHrL3HfRAaB8ZjDelZ3AObcPVMkw_iWkHe9RMpWS_xXeeShHaduf4GYVp8oMPTe4NKOWUABgitDVXu6EAnD4dzNbM9dQ_MN6ktg5fXQrlidRt4CNDxm7Y_4FS1GmB-7ajyuGdpdE5Zy/s400/HPIM1728.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216663435736879058" /></a><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dz2x_oEmGUGjYBfDeLNUwcAsFF-xx2XqaPFRcBhNyP2yEMUvWfrWrKww40MtLznjvYziQF6ByxRJQPYnYkV4g' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-38734579400657609752008-06-18T22:15:00.000-05:002008-06-18T22:56:43.892-05:00No Pets AllowedMy family has informed me that they will once again be abandoning me for a week for their annual use-it-or-lose-it vacation (timeshare). They'll be visiting Daytona Beach for the 2nd time WITHOUT ME. Don't they think I would also enjoy combing the beach (with my nose) and watching the sunrise? I've watched many a YouTube video of beagles romping on the beach and wading in the ocean - they all looked pretty happy to me! My family, however, informs me there is a "no pets allowed" policy at each and every resort within the entire timeshare system. Somebody must do something to stop this blatant discrimination, or underprivileged pets such as myself will never get to experience the joy of a Florida sunrise. (I'd stage a protest myself, but I have no thumbs with which to hold a picket sign.)<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeY-US0LLzl4e_813vOa10U58dmj0VWvwE3y8wS14VEPwOON_w1JH0C6WShCr2y7b6q_3156hwqu5L7lD_o6vWkxCKspeOB80Sk2hhDn2hGaN_OK_GiYnfLnWTNN9Nx46ngPA_yn1_F6gH/s1600-h/12-27-06+025.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeY-US0LLzl4e_813vOa10U58dmj0VWvwE3y8wS14VEPwOON_w1JH0C6WShCr2y7b6q_3156hwqu5L7lD_o6vWkxCKspeOB80Sk2hhDn2hGaN_OK_GiYnfLnWTNN9Nx46ngPA_yn1_F6gH/s400/12-27-06+025.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213429807018748690" /></a>GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-63779896162717379912008-06-18T21:51:00.000-05:002008-06-18T22:09:36.024-05:00Long Time, No PostHi all, Gus here. I realize I have been lax in my postings as of late. I have a perfectly good excuse. It has become my full-time evening job to hunt (and eat!) June Bugs. Even from inside, I love to listen to them slam against the glass door, taunting me to come find them. Please mama, let me out!!! (Note doggy and kitty nose prints on both the inside AND outside of the glass - neither of us can ever decide which side we prefer. I think we'd both rather have no silly door at all.)<br /><br />Anyway, the evening June Bug vigil has left me exhausted during the day, and I've been too pooped to post.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1i9guBHOKPKTan7xqh_5EuasDHDENPPr18RspjKcCyVO2pXDbgG8BR-S-aP90IpgABuZFBBPhY15RQheM33MaBkmBJiLKQIoIGSXiUzLvor5EmS2qaOFeODJw4O-Oconj0mAW8uVroNIE/s1600-h/HPIM1643.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1i9guBHOKPKTan7xqh_5EuasDHDENPPr18RspjKcCyVO2pXDbgG8BR-S-aP90IpgABuZFBBPhY15RQheM33MaBkmBJiLKQIoIGSXiUzLvor5EmS2qaOFeODJw4O-Oconj0mAW8uVroNIE/s400/HPIM1643.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213421069009902082" /></a><br /><br />I've also been making frequent trips to the dog park. Here's a pic of a funny little friend I met on a recent visit - his nose has nothing on mine, but he sure was cute!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2GEmUaJqFXYoLjpnveybyiax3hb1n8yAn8x-_Zjk76ulnP9e5FTPMAhlO3hAHC-vpGQ01naB4i9ShSgCog80LWb5TFrD4h8Q5-Y_E607ZF_c-psDFrOjBS5WQ9zLSyHYRyexSRraIijxl/s1600-h/HPIM1637.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2GEmUaJqFXYoLjpnveybyiax3hb1n8yAn8x-_Zjk76ulnP9e5FTPMAhlO3hAHC-vpGQ01naB4i9ShSgCog80LWb5TFrD4h8Q5-Y_E607ZF_c-psDFrOjBS5WQ9zLSyHYRyexSRraIijxl/s400/HPIM1637.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5213422594969351442" /></a>GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-80996855775226651752008-04-22T18:12:00.000-05:002008-04-22T18:17:43.116-05:00Success!Update on the dog-treat success rate at our local bank... (See "Shafted Again" blog entry.) TCF has greatly improved their success rate now that my mom lets me stick half my body out the window while her banking transaction is being processed. It may not be polite or dignified, but it works! Yippee! Score one for the beagle!GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-24750817427197636012008-03-15T22:05:00.000-05:002008-03-15T22:19:52.097-05:00Shafted Again!Hi all,<br /><br />Just wanted to report a horrible trend I've been noticing. As many of you know, one of my favorite parts of the day is errand time when we get to go to the bank. My mama sometimes has as many as THREE bank stops and I look forward to every one. So far Provincial Bank has had a 100% success rate in remembering to provide me a treat at the drive-up. Wells Fargo Bank is doing pretty good at around 85-90%. TCF Bank, however, has shafted me several times, even though I stick my head out the window and cock it back and forth when I hear the "tube" whoosh out toward our car. I have been extremely disappointed, as this is where my mama does almost all of her banking. I'm petitioning pretty hard to get her to switch over to one with a better dog-treat success rate (they're barely hanging in there with less than 50%). If anyone reading this works at TCF Bank, please let them know that my family has both business accounts and personal accounts which are in jeopardy of being switched to another bank, because I hold a lot of clout in this house and if the beagle ain't happy, ain't no-one happy.GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-68932591530211342612008-02-16T14:17:00.001-06:002008-02-16T14:42:58.181-06:00Uno the Beagle wins Best in Show!Congratulations are in order to Uno the Beagle winning Best in Show. It's about time a beagle receives the respect we all deserve. I do, however, take offense to not being able to compete myself. As you can see from my photos, I am a proud beagle and consider myself the perfect specimen of our royal breed (um, humility is not a requirement, is it?). I asked my mama, "What does Uno have that I don't have?" and she replied, "testicles". Ouch, that hurt. I remember before she was able to adopt me I was required to be "fixed", however I consider that nasty little procedure more of a "breaking" than a "fixing". So I submit to you all, allow us "fixed" dogs to be given consideration in your snotty little dog shows. Not only are we doing a world a favor by reducing the over-population of companion animals, but due to our "fixed" nature, we are also the last in our line. The rarest of the rare.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXTE2Zx_fZ_v0r4VEUVMw7SsnNY5aRO1dsZYWLW5tkxlbcaEFUahfhmcf7az4Fg4msCnZfUhk7dEUFcXyRyEq-bcSHqkB0ynTJvLl6hyxng6tKAhbRM-sBG64bNoUk4AblXFpfBPVer0V/s1600-h/04-23.02.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFXTE2Zx_fZ_v0r4VEUVMw7SsnNY5aRO1dsZYWLW5tkxlbcaEFUahfhmcf7az4Fg4msCnZfUhk7dEUFcXyRyEq-bcSHqkB0ynTJvLl6hyxng6tKAhbRM-sBG64bNoUk4AblXFpfBPVer0V/s400/04-23.02.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5167677342869090866" /></a>GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6390931561294942624.post-4933231545313132402008-01-09T13:54:00.000-06:002008-01-09T14:06:06.931-06:00Christmas Vacation<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8SjBBRuQ9o1JAOoQ9ui9GLbL7zxUQ4MQOP_b2Kie-UYiGuVQBTSdeZECSeBjOzGa7E6uCPlZi84qaZ7c4WtHgFSV9ZeBKLhbYzuMMyvk0P8qRF88IAA-2c2bf9-MhhVtO5Shs333psRL5/s1600-h/HPIM1498.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8SjBBRuQ9o1JAOoQ9ui9GLbL7zxUQ4MQOP_b2Kie-UYiGuVQBTSdeZECSeBjOzGa7E6uCPlZi84qaZ7c4WtHgFSV9ZeBKLhbYzuMMyvk0P8qRF88IAA-2c2bf9-MhhVtO5Shs333psRL5/s400/HPIM1498.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5153568898862237138" /></a><br />My family went to Myrtle Beach for Christmas vacation WITHOUT ME, and all I got was this lousy pic message.GusTheBeagle (and Oliver)http://www.blogger.com/profile/11134851732085122716noreply@blogger.com0