Beagles: Snoopy, MAX and Buddy

Hey, It’s Jet Here.

When Mom attended Camp Truda, she acted in the play; You’re a Good Man Charlie Brown.  Her best camp friend, Sue, played Snoopy.  Mom thinks Snoopy had a lot to do with the popularity of Beagles.

All I know about Beagles I learned from that “darn Max” and Buddy.  Our whole pack avoids that “darn Max” as best we can.  In truth, it’s not his fault.  The human who walks him, says mean things about all of us in another language when she passes by and doesn’t scoop the poop either.

She called my Mom names and my sister Koko ugly.  Glad I never heard that personally, or, my protective nature might just have kicked in.  She’s called me terrible words too; however, as I’ve written before, a Gentleman does not repeat words like that.  I behave really well considering that “darn Max” barks, howls and charges at us.  Mom reminds me that Max probably has a more endearing side when he’s with other members of his family.  She always looks for the silver lining.

Just when my rating of Beagles hovered at hmm… like zero, I met Buddy the Beagle.  Our newer neighbors, Pat and Cindy, recently adopted Buddy the Beagle from the pound.  Now, Buddy does that Beagle baying stuff, but, he’s a friendly fellow.  We’ve walked with him a few times and he and I had lots to discuss.  I really appreciated having some “guy time” since the rest of my pack is female.  Pat tells Buddy and me manly man stuff about baseball since he’s really involved in building the new Marlins stadium.  And… I don’t have to explain or apologize for stopping frequently to empty my tank.  Buddy the Beagle understands that I need to let fellow K9s know Jet was here!

So here’s to you, Buddy the Beagle, for restoring my faith in your breed.  See ya on the block!

Another great day.

UN Negotiations – Send Me In!

Hey, It’s Jet Here.

Now that we’ve gotten to know each other a bit, I thought I should introduce you to the lower life forms I share my house with.  Jet, that’s not an acceptable way to speak about your feline brothers Puffy and Fluffy.  Mom, you should hear how Puffy talks about me.  He ALWAYS reminds me: Cats Rule, Dogs Drool.  Well, Jet, two wrongs do not make a right, I will speak with him about this.  Yes, Mom.

Anyway, as I was going to say before Mom had to get her two cents in.  (Jet…) Yeah, I know Mom.  When I joined the family, the top priority was to set the pecking order.  Koko, well, she immediately informed me that she had no interest in politics.  One down, two to go.  Upon meeting, Fluffy seemed like a decent guy, the only thing – he NEVER stops talking to Mom.  How much can one guy possibly have to say?  Then, I met Puffy.

Puffy held “Head Honcho” position prior to my arrival.  After surveying the whole house, the time came for a showdown.

Puffy: Dude, this is my turf.

Me:  There’s a new K9 in town.

Puffy:  Hiss.  Cats Rule, Dogs Drool – SEE MOM, TOLD YOU!

Me:  Woof, Woof – I’m bigger and louder.  Unlike my sister, I bark and chase and I’m not afraid to go under the bed.

Puffy: A superior feline such as myself can jump higher and outfox you  anytime.

Me: Big Woof.  I can block the door to the laundry room and you’ll never see your food bowl or litter box again.

Puffy: Who needs this job, I can spend my time much more wisely.

Me: Glad you see it my way.

From my perspective, Jet walked in the house, he looked and sniffed around, we introduced him properly (tush first) to Koko, then, Fluffy, then Puffy.  I knew Puffy had been the alpha, so, I anticipated a hiss or two.  They stared at each other for what felt like a few minutes and it was all over, Jet assumed the alpha post.  Oh, I should mention, that I told all four that I would accept nothing less than a harmonious house.  After three years, I recently made a mental note that Puffy and Jet concurrently rested on my bed with me. 

On Being a Gentleman

Sure, Scooby Doo Academy gives classes to improve my detecting skills, but did you know they also encourage enrollment in etiquette classes?  Yup, I’m doing an Independent Study “On Being a Gentleman.”  I have to collect data to present and Mom graciously agreed to type my submission.  Here’s what I have so far.

  1. Mom places Mary Ann’s morning newspaper on her pillar so she doesn’t have to walk down the driveway each morning per my instructions.             
  2. When we go for a pack walk, I sit gentlemanly-like on Dixie’s and/or Neve’s front stoop.
  3. I play nicely with other K-9s (if they have good attitudes).
  4. I ask Mom to scoop the poop, to show we’re good neighbors.
  5. I sit down and stay quiet as Mom requests before scarfing down my meals.
  6. When Giovanni puts the window down in his car,  I carefully place my two front paws so as not to scratch anything so we can exchange manly man conversation.
  7. I offer either or both paws to humans who ask.  (I’m ambidextrous.)
  8. I do not pass “wind” like some K-9s (ahem, my sister, Koko, even though I would take her f_rting (see, too gentlemanly to write the word) any day if it meant she was still alive.)
  9. I help Mom clean the walls.  (See Spa Day)
  10. At the dog park, I’m friendly to all… Mom calls me the “Mayor”.
  11. I politely wish Patches a good night when passing her fence.  (See Patches).
  12. I wait for a human invitation to enter Dixie or Neve or Samson’s backyards.  
  13. I lift my left front paw gently to help Mom harness me up for my walks.
  14. I rarely snore, unlike some K-9s (like my sister, Koko, even though I would take her snoring any day if it meant she was still alive.)
  15. I help Mom clean the dishes in the dishwasher, particularly the thing she calls the George Forman fat tray.

Oh, I will have to politely (see another gentlemanly thing) request that Mom email this list to the academy; it’s longer than I expected.  I’m quite the gentleman if I don’t say so myself!  I should definitely earn the coveted “S” (Scooby Spectacular) for the first submission of my Independent Study!

Another great and gentlemanly day!

Jet One, Peacock Zero or Tail Talk Pt. 2

Hey, It’s Jet Here.

Now that you understand Tail Talk, Mom thought you would get a kick out of this story.  On weekends and national holidays, Mom takes/took Koko and me on a different morning walking route.  Let’s call it “crossing 112” because we bisect SW 112 ST, a busy, exciting road normally filled with lots of whizzing cars.  I like this way because I find so many new spots to empty my tank and let everyone know… Hey, Jet Was Here!  I digress.

The house on the corner with two nosy, “think they know it all, jumping bean, big dogs” was a favorite “business” spot for Koko.  I always empty my tank a little just to show them who’s boss.   The abode which sits catty-corner with the canal in the backyard houses a snippy, barky dog, which has no sense of humor when we pass by.  Again… I digress.

Jet, I think I better help you out a little here.  At times, when walking Jet and Koko, I looked like a crazed ballerina turning, bending, and crossing body parts and leashes to avoid entanglements.  One Sunday morning around 6:15 a.m., I detangled in between the corner house and the catty corner house Jet mentioned above.  Next thing I knew, Jet stood stock still with the stretch and ‘cue tail for what felt like a few minutes. 

As my gaze followed his body from tail to nose, standing on snippy dog’s lawn was a Peacock, with tail feathers in full fan mode.  Mom, I got it from here.  My tail curled to full ‘cue mode and I barked like a crazy boy.  Mom wasn’t sure whether I wanted to chase (yes), dominate (yes) or flee (no way, Jose!).

That avian showoff, tried to run away, however, that fan tail impeded his efforts.  He quickly folded that fan …Mr. “I’m the most handsome creature on the block” and high-tailed it toward the canal.

Whose tail reigned supreme?  Next thing I heard, Mom laughing and saying this utterance thing you will understand, Jet One, Peacock Zero!

Another great day.

Spa Day

Hey, It’s Jet Here…

Unlike my sister, Koko, Spa Day does not bring the zen feeling of bliss into my world.  When I joined the family, Mom could not brush the back half of me;  can’t share details, too painful.  After a few attempts, I found a brush (at Marshall’s) that Jet tolerated, made by Paul Mitchell for Pets.  The comb slid into the body of the brush, which allowed for quick brush cleaning, since you know who sheds more than Koko ever did.  Recently, I found another brush Jet likes for a first go round, and then I use a flea comb.  Mom listens to this noise called NPR while she brushes us me from nose to tail before my spa treatment, since I do not like to get combed wet like Koko used to.

Since I have chemical sensitivities, safe shampoo matters.  Koko and I enjoyed Buddy Wash Lavender I purchased Buddy Wash Green Tea and Rosemary for Jet.  Ahem, Mom, my blog, remember?  Like a gentleman, I always let Koko go first, laying down as close to the shower door hoping Mom would forget I existed.  No luck.  Somehow, delectable treats appear when Spa Day rolls around.  Mom sets our my special towels out, removes our my collar and in I go.  As soon as I sit down in the shower, my first yummy treat passes from her hand to my mouth!

Mom sits on the floor with the shampoo bottle, wets me down, I shake as hard as I can and the spa treatment begins.  I trot around the small perimeter of the shower, making sure Mom gets her flexibility training in for the day.  The hose and I … well, we’re not the best of friends, even though the setting says gentle spray.  Mom tells me how handsome and good smelling I am as she soaps my back first, then each leg, then my belly, then my tail, and last and hoping she forgets, my head, ears, chin and neck.  Even though I try to distract her by shaking, each time the shake feeling happens, she tells me I’m a good boy.  She even shampoos my collar, which she calls my necklace.  After shampooing and rinsing, those tasty treats appear in her hand again.

No matter how many times I tell her toweling is unnecessary, she insists.  I prefer to dry off by combining three techniques: shaking, strategically leaning in so that each side rubs all the available wall space in the house and finally air drying for four hours (nap included).  Environmentally friendly, right?  11-20-11 Mom found great pictures of more pups and a deer? who know how to shake dry, too.

Another great and handsomely clean day.

Tail Talk – Pt. 1

Hey, It’s Jet Here.

We K-9s do not always use our voices to communicate, we use body language too.  Case in point – our tails.  My sister, Koko, was a wagging professional.  She wagged at the door before Mom even entered the house (show off!), she wagged at Dr. Shaffer’s office (show off again), she probably wagged in her sleep she was so doggone happy.

I have several tail positions.

  • There’s the perfect curlicue.  I use this when I want to show Patches (prior post) what a catch I am.  The ‘cue tail also works when I’m alert to new noises, an approaching something or other or want to show how big and tall I can be.

  • There’s the sideways question mark.  The art of crooking my tail just so to create the “curious and comfortable-in-my-paws” position which took lots of practice I tell ya.
  • There’s the stretch and ‘cue.  My tail straightens out as I listen or see something that catches my attention.  Next, after determining the safety level, I ‘cue it up to let the world know that… Hey, It’s Jet Here.  Example:  This morning, I discovered that the human time change thing (see prior post) may not bode poorly after all.  You see, with the extra light, I can identify more squirrels on the telephone wires.  They know about my chasing prowess, they’ve heard the rumors, they know they can’t (Uh, excuse me Jet, I’d tone down the bravado, since, those squirrels outfox you time after time…no offense)  Mom, that’s because you do not let me run free to bark and jump on the trees making them shiver in fear all the way down to their little teeny claws.  Ok, Jet, if you say so…
  • There’s the cozy tuck.  You know the head dog in the sky designed us K-9s well when we use this one.  My tail wraps around my behind parts and tucks under my back paws perfectly to create a cozy position to rest and sleep.
  • There’s the downtrodden.  Before I met Mom, I employed this position often.  My tail slumped down between my back legs and hung there, sad and scared.  I would tell mom to delete this one except you should know about it in case you ever see one of my brethren in this state.  Please help them if you do, ok?
  • Finally, there’s the well known wag.  Several factors affect this position; speed, direction and feelings.  You can rev up or slow down the wag depending on what you want to convey.  I vary the direction of wagging by going side to side or in a circle.  When you walk, trot, or run the coordinating wag takes on different cadences as well.  My excited wag when Mom asks, “Jet, do you want to go out?” starts at the tip, and then quickly envelops my whole tail until I’m wagging like a madman.

Jet, I know you will conclude part 1 in a moment, if I may, I would like to comment on your wag.  After you lived with us for about six months, it dawned on me that you did not wag your tail much.  I realized you had suffered so greatly before, you may have forgotten how.  I never took/take your wag for granted.  You now wag like your sister used to, which lets me know you trust us and can freely and joyfully enjoy your days.  Your wagging makes my lips turn up at the edges – that means we’re both happy.  Wow Mom, I didn’t know all that, thanks for sharing.

Ahem…Pay attention to our tails, humans; you will learn a lot!

You Can Call Me Jet, You Can Call Me Jetty, You Can Call Me…

You know you have arrived when you get a nickname.  Mom called my sister, Koko, many names, like: Koko Puff, Koko Loco, Koko-la, Jelly Belly Girl, Sweetness, Honey Girl, and on and on and on and on…

About two, three years ago, during one of my first few playdates with Samson, the Golden Doodle, his Mom, Denise, looked at me and said, “Jetty, get out of the bushes.”  I wasn’t sure how I felt when I heard Denise sayJetty.  However, Jet likes Denise and each time she called him Jetty, he would saunter over and nuzzle her.  During one of our walks with Mary Ann and Dixie, Mary Ann called me Mr. Handsome.  Ooh I liked that.  Then the floodgates opened.

Mom began to experiment.  She started out slow, she called me Jetty Boy.  If I demonstrated my Scooby Doo detecting skills after a rainshower for example, she would call me Mr. Sniffy.  When she wanted me to come into a room with her, she would call me Jet-a-la.  My “Jetster” nickname appeared one night during a walk with Mary Ann and Dixie, when I showed particular swagger.  Since Mom is a Jersey girl, Mary Ann  called me Jettylicious during a walk once; I remember Mom laughing.   Over the two years Mom contemplated writing this blog, she tried to think of a good title.  On a splendid morning walk, she looked over at me and said, Jetty Spaghetti.  Really Mom, that’s the best you could do?  That name still makes me smile, Jet. Oh, and when I sucker Mom into a belly rub or two or three, she calls me Mr. Belly Boy.

When Mom calls me Boo Boo, I can tell from the tone in her voice she’s happy with me.  She usually says this when it’s time to get ready for bed, or cuddle up on the couch, or get brushed.  My favorite name? Member of the family.

Patches – Girl of Mystery

Hey, It’s Jet Here.

Whether our walks include members of the pack, or simply Koko, Mom and I (now just Mom and I), we try to switch up the routes to prevent boredom.  In the evenings, I tend to suggest exiting the house to the left.  Somehow, I know she’s there, the mystery girl, the girl behind the fence.  Technically, she lives six houses away from me, around the curve of our street, on the corner of a really busy intersection.   Mom says Patches, (a beautiful English Setter), lives with her humans, Pete and Carol, retired school teachers.  Years ago, before I joined the family, Pete told Mom that Patches received special training to hunt birds and spent months at a time in the Carolinas practicing.

I’ve tried EVERYTHING to have a date with Patches.  Mom says the situation reminds her of Romeo and Juliet.  When we approach her house, I empty my tank a little to let her know I’ve arrived.  I pace back and forth to see whether she is outside, lingering, hoping for a moment, a peak, a hint, something.  If she speaks to me, oh, that melodious bark… well then I race with Mom (and Koko until recently) in tow up and down the sidewalk barking sweet nothings.  I jump proudly showing off my agility and determination to get her to like me.  If only the dreaded WOODEN FENCE would disappear, I could catch a glimpse of my mystery girl!    Mom repeatedly asks Pete if I can meet Patches, but, alas, no luck to date.  Pete gently changes the subject.  No one in the neighborhood has ever seen Patches other than in the backyard, so, we try not to take it personally.

 About three weeks ago, on one of our first walks after my sister crossed the Rainbow Bridge, we rounded the curve towards Patches’ house.  I’m writing the next bit because Jet would not understand the implications of what I saw.  A blue and white, Coldwell Banker FOR SALE sign stood like a mini flagpole on Pete’s lawn.  My heart sunk and I realized Jetty would never meet his mystery crush.  I decided to keep this to myself and allow him to enjoy the remaining time giving chase.  A little mystery here and there spices up our lives.  We had a quick, noisy visit on the outbound portion of the walk.  Oh, I forgot to tell you, when we pass by on our way back home, I pause beside the small angled piece of the fence to say goodnight Patches, even if she has already retired for the evening.  That’s just the kind of guy I am, gentlemanly, debonair, with a goofy fun side, who could resist?

Distance Learning

Hey, It’s Jet Here.

You know, there’s a lot to be said for continuing education.  My human family believes in education strongly.  Mom has a bunch of letters after her name like J.D. (Just Delicious??? No, Jetty, it means I went to law school!), H.H.C. (Happy, Happy Canine? No, Jetty, it means Holistic Health Counselor) K.C. (Kite Chaser? No, Jetty, it means Kitchen Counselor!) My Nana earned some M. somethings (Double Masters), Grandma Caz earned her M. something and still researches and writes for her P.H.D. (Phantastic Hot Dogs? No, Jetty, it means she’s working towards her doctorate!) Grandma Peggy has a bunch of letters about being good in something called accounting and estate planning, and… big news… my Grandpa got the highest honor from the University of Miami yesterday… Iron Arrow!

My sister, Koko, didn’t quite finish her class at Pet Something or Other, but… she passed her Therapy Dogs Inc. test with flying colors.  When contemplating my educational path, Mom and I realized I am a paws-on kind of guy.  One day, when my human sister, Rachel, was watching TV, I saw the image that would change my life.  He talks, he has 4 paws like me, he receives lots of snacks, he stars in his own multi-media empire (TV, books, movies) and acts goofy, funny, and even scared sometimes.  My guru, my teacher, my mentor – SCOOBY DOO!

I enrolled in the Scooby Doo Detective Academy and never looked back.  Today’s examples:  hearing and smelling moving objects (jogger with big dog, jogger without dog, and the dreaded… LOOSE C.A.T.)  I warned Mom by barking at the jogger with big dog, picking up our pace with the jogger for further detecting, and dragging Mom to stay hot on the trail of the C.A.T.  Also, I continue my sniffing surveillance of the musky odor emanating from the Mean Lady’s House.  (Jet, you are right, they spread new mulch there last weekend.) I pottied there a few times this week to show that stuff who’s boss!

More lessons soon, I’m going to encourage Mom to give me some Jetty Snacks!

Another great day.

What Type of Alarm Clock Do You Use?

Hey, It’s Jet Here.

Mom said that since we are getting acquainted, I should tell you how I begin each day.  As I mentioned a few posts ago, when I joined Mom’s family, my life became much happier.  Each morning, my “It’s Another Great Day” Alarm goes off around 5:00 a.m.  Here’s the technique I share with the family:

  • Since Mom sleeps on the left side of her bed, I sidle up beside where her forearm/elbow/upper arm rests.
  • I’m ambidextrous, so, I can use either left or right front paw.  I take my paw and brush it twice on mom’s arm.  If she doesn’t pay attention, I will repeat this step.
  • Most mornings a combo of paw and whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa will do the trick.  Note to other K-9s… do not bark, humans do not like this.

I must interject here.  When sharing this info with friends, they said, 5 a.m.? Don’t let him out, don’t give him breakfast, he’ll sleep longer or learn to leave you alone.  Here’s the thing – I do not let him out and I do NOT feed him until 6:00 a.m. and he’s not pesty.  Over the last three years, it seems like he’s telling us – Hey, it’s another great day, let’s go!  Also, I think his border collie roots kick in and he sees the light and thinks it’s herding time!

Moooommm… my post, remember?

  • Mom tried to synch my wake up time with Koko’s.  She told me that ladies (Mom and Koko) like their beauty rest and would prefer to wake up at 7:00 a.m.  I feel they would miss the best part of the day continuing with that routine. The sunrise, the ducks and other creatures that cross our yard, the mangos that thud in season… c’mon.  In fact, now that I have Mom on schedule, I’ve heard her tell her friends that she gets a lot done before she goes to work.
  • Finally, my belly alarm clock goes off between 5:45 and 6:05.  Mom said she would like to do this patent thing, because she cannot believe how accurate I am.  When I’m a few minutes early, she whispers in my ear that my belly alarm went off too soon and I have to wait a little while.  She kisses my ear, so, it’s hard to get mad.
  • Oh, the last touch?  BIG TIP HERE:  If your human is grumpy in the morning, roll over on your back with your paws in the air and smile… this aspect of the belly alarm will turn any human frown upside down.  Here’s the proper form, demonstrated by my sister, Koko.  (Mom’s gonna try to upload a photo for the first time, good luck!)

Another Great Day.