COME ON!

This is delighting me like little else ever has. Seriously. The best part is around the 22 second mark, when you can see the puppy's tail wagging.


The more you watch it, the better it gets... Not unlike THIS! (Yes, I KNOW it's a prairie dig, but "Dramatic Prairie Dog?" Please. Where's the rhythm?)


Now, as adorable as the puppy in the first video is, I just can't ever imagine doing something like that to Arnold or Red. They don't eat people food (except when Brad feeds them), and even if they did, they'd never stoop to such sophomoric forms of entertainment.

Arnie prefers extreme sporting.

(Please note: This is Saint, not Arnie. Also note the excellent form of Saint's Downward Dog; my yoga teachers would be impressed.)

Um - and this is just a suggestion - if you're ever looking for something to do, just type "Surfing Golden Retriever" into Google. Again, just a thought. But seriously, though, not a bad way to kill 5 minutes while you wait for files to upload.

GRW - Arnie is not tote-able.

Brad loves to tote Arnie. You know, just walk around with an Arnie draped about his shoulders like a cape. It's REALLY normal behavior. Most people walk around with dogs (who weigh HALF AS MUCH as they do) around their necks.

Arnie's so mellow, though, that he never really minds, especially when he's really stoned, as he is below:


Arnie isn't as into it when Brad tries to get him all fired up. Arnie doesn't do "fired up," which is unfortunate, because Brad doesn't do mellow. Yet, like Bert and Ernie, they get along famously. As you can see.


Oh, and the wetness on Arnie's head, that's making his fur all cowlicky? That's where Brad was biting him.

Golden Retriever Wednesday* - Don't do this.

* Yes, Wednesday. Because I was always late for Golden Retriever Tuesdays, I thought I'd give myself an extra 24 hours.

I love Halloween. It gives me endless joy to watch the conservative Christian types take part in a pagan ritual. Believe me, I'll be dressing up and taking part in any and all Halloween-related festivities that come my way. Except one.

By now you know how much I adore Arnold the dog. You're aware that my connection to him rivals that of the crazy cat lady to her herd of husband-substitutes. That said, THIS is not ok:


People, this is not a happy dog! Despite my completely unhinged friendship with my pet, I would never dream of outfitting him in something like this:



because let me tell you, even though Arnie didn't bite me when I was ripping porcupine quills out of his snoot, and even though he didn't even curl his lip at me after he was hit by a car and I had to lift his sore little body up into my truck, I think he'd snap if I ever tried to wiggle him into this:

I mean, how itchy!

Whoever these people are, they're a bunch of sick monkeys. Don't dress your dog for Halloween, people. There's no reason to, as they're already ideally suited for the task of tick-or-treating as is:


Ahem, I will not be taking Arnold from house to house, mostly because our neighbors frighten me, but also because COME ON!!! Haven't you been paying attention? This is sick!

Instead, Arnie and I will hopefully be doing this on the 31st: