With the Wind at Your Back

Friday was so windy. Mommy took me out for a walk and I was trying to do my business and each time I got in position, the wind sort of knocked me over and I lost my balance. This happened three or four times. Mommy was trying to hide her laughing at me as she knows I’m a bit sensitive, but I could see her entire body shakin’ she was laughing so hard at my misfortune. Eventually, I left her a present in the leaves.

Bailey's all a TWITTER!!!

Check it out, instead of woof woof, I'm saying TWEET TWEET these days!

I've joined Twitter. Follow me here: www.twitter.com/beaglebailey429.

I'll keep you updated on when I have a new blog post or catch a squirrel or leave my mark someplace really good, but mainly that blog post thing.

Tweet! Tweet!

The Green-Eyed Monster of Bailey

Mommy cheated on me. She came home late last night and she smelled of another dog. I totally busted her on it. His fur was all over her sweater and on her pants, so I know she was playing with another dog… and God forbid, she gave him a belly rub. She didn’t! She wouldn’t! But I know she did. She confessed the whole thing. Her face was totally covered in guilt. And her sweater buttons – yeah, I can tell he licked one.

She says his name was Chase. What kind of a name is that? Chase. I chase a squirrel!

She wants the two of us to meet. She thinks we can all be friends and play, but I’m going to need to think about this.

Tinkle Tinkle!

Lifted my leg for the tree. Marked the fence. Pee'd on the wall. Lifted my leg for the bush. Marked the bench. Pee'd on the mailbox. Turned some snow yellow.

A good day.

Ruh-roh! Mambo Crap-o!

In the words of my pal Astro from the Jetsons: Ruh-roh!

I’m pretty smooth on my feet… yeah, I may have two left feet, but I also have two right feet… or paws. Either way, these paws have moves! I made the mistake of dancing with mommy once or twice when a good song came on – hey, the music just took over my body – and then when Auntie Ali was here, I danced a little bit with her… by the time I finished twirling her around the dance floor, she was saying that I could teach Fred Astaire a few moves.

Yes, indeedy, I’m a smooth operator with the ladies on the dance floor… but now that smoothness and my moves are causing trouble. Mommy saw a clip of this dog dancing the mambo, and she instantly said, “we can do better than that” and measured my belly for a SKIRT. I may wear a Love Bug costume. I may wear a snowman sweater. I might even dress like a pumpkin for Halloween, but there is no way I’m wearing a skirt and dancing the mambo like some golden retriever. There’s nothing golden about that. It ain’t happening!

I think I better go chew up my dancing shoes… and mommy’s. Better to be safe!

BAD DOG…AGAIN

Being a Saturday, I found I had a little extra time on my paws today. Given my stomach is pretty much a bottomless, iron pit, I found myself wanting to eat. Again. Plus, I got a good night’s sleep last night, so when mommy left to go bowling with her friends, I found myself WIDE awake with the whole apartment to myself and nothing on my schedule. Idle paws make for wanting to climb walls! So I looked for something to do… and then I smelled it! She didn’t fully close the lid on the jar of peanut butter! Aha!

So I did what any reasonable dog would do who has suddenly become very comfortable in his surroundings. The chair to the dinner table wasn’t fully tucked in (is that my fault!?) so I jumped onto the chair, and then jumped onto the table, and launched from the table onto the kitchen counter where I found myself a buffet of food. She had cookies in a Rubbermaid container (and with a determined nose, those lids aren’t that hard to get off). She had a whole bowl of candy – most of that I dumped into the sink, I don’t like candy very much, especially when it's in a wrapper. And, to my delight, there it was, sitting on top of the toaster oven, a jar of peanut butter that was just waiting to have the lid pop off. So I pushed that off the counter to the floor, stopped to make sure nothing good was in the garbage (there really wasn’t, but since it was there, it was worth a peek), and then enjoyed the jar of peanut butter as far down as my tongue could reach. It was almost empty, but still quite the score!

In my nose's excitement, I didn’t cover my tracks very well. When mommy walked in the door, she immediately started with the BAD DOG. In all my peanut butter delights, I accidentally turned on the sink and left the water running. And now that I think about it, the garbage was everywhere, and she was really ticked that her entire bowl of candy was soaking wet and inedible. Opps.

So I was put in a timeout while she cleaned everything up. I hate timeouts. I just had to sit there. No belly rub. No ear scratch. No treats. Nothing. Just sit there. And boy did I feel bad. She sure knows how to lay on the guilt. To make matters worse, she moved the table, so there goes my launching pad to the buffet - right when I was figuring it out.

And she kept mumbling something about giving Marley a run for his money. Apparently he’s the world’s worst dog. Personally, I think he sounds like a stand-up chap that I’d like to meet. I bet we’d have a lot of fun together…I might even share my peanut butter.

Paw Skating

The paws and paws and paws of snow that fell on D.C., and that piled up in the dog pen at my building has now all now turned to ice – making the dog pen a wicked fun skating rink. Yesterday, I was chillin’ outside in the pen, sniffing a tree and leaving my mark when my lab pal Gordy came in. We were racin’ around the pen, having a good ol’ time chasin’ each other on the ice. The only problem with ice is that it’s really easy to lose your pawing. Gordy was chasin’ me – and we were going really fast – when I went flying, sliding on my butt and belly into mommy. That was all fine, until Gordy, who’s almost triple my weight – he was right behind me and he couldn’t put on the brakes either. He’s so big he crashed into me, mommy and his mommy. We all went tumbling to the ground, and let me tell you – all I could think about was that’s gonna leave a mark! It was wicked sweet, but my tail is sore today! Maybe it’s time to turn in my paw skates and try some snowpawing! Or sledding!

Beagle Births! A Warm and Fuzzy Post

Did you see this news story from last Thursday (remember, when it was really, really cold, and much of the country was being covered in snow)? Some person dumped this beagle in the snow in Ohio right before she gave birth to a liter of puppies. Fortunately, someone found her, took them to the Humane Society and now the mom and her puppies are in a foster home, waiting to be adopted. I love a happy ending!

But people, I don't get on my soapbox often, but if you can't handle your dog, don't just dump them on the side of the road or set them free to fend for themselves, take them to a Rescue or a Humane Society. Someone wants to love them and care for them, even if you don't or can't.

Click here to read the story and watch the news video.

Love from the Love Bug!

Here's wishing you a Happy Valentine's Day!!! I hope the Love Bug finds you!


P.S. I got a lot of treats to wear this outfit, so it was totally worth it!

Better than Some Ugly Christmas Sweater, a Snowman Sweater!!!

Today I went to work with mommy. She was SNOWOVERIT and had work to get done, even if the rest of D.C. was suffering from the BLIZASTER! Her boss loves me and requests my presence in the office. I mainly sleep under mommy's desk and get treats when I'm there. I've worked out a system, and it's a pretty good deal, if I do say so myself. Mommy works on the top floor, so we ride the elevator up. If there are people sharing the elevator, she always asks them "Are you afraid of dogs?" before we get on. I personally don't see the big deal, but apparently some people prefer two-legs over four. So today, she asks that to this guy getting on the elevator with us and he laughs and says "no" and then he adds "and I certainly wouldn't be afraid of a little beagle wearing a snowman sweater... boy does he look ferocious!" And he had the nerve to laugh again!!!

Excuse me? If I weren't such a good boy, I'd say someone deserves a little pee on his leg! I happen to like my snowman sweater, especially when everything is covered in snow and the temperature is very cold. Some people think dogs don't like clothes, but I have short fur, and I practically climb into my sweater all by myself before going outside. Why should I freeze my tail off? And I think I look darn good in my sweater...and I know others do too. I saw that little Bichon Frise named Asti, checking me out this morning. She thinks I didn't see her, but I know she gave me the ME-OW and the sniff-sniff before walking around the corner. That guy probably has a closet full of those ugly Christmas sweaters, and I bet they are really ugly, but me, I'm keeping my snowman sweater! It works!

Hounds from Hell – Stop Terrorizing the Town

So as I was surfing the Web the other day, I came across this article in the New York Post:

Savage Beagles Terrorize East End

First off, shame on people for just setting their dogs free. I know my mommy would never give me up. But fellas, what are you doing? I’m tossing you a bone here… so take my advice: go find yourself a rescue, learn some manners and get yourself a new family. I’m telling you, this being adopted stuff is where it’s at. Meals every day. Belly rubs. Treats. Why sleep on the street when you can share a nice warm bed with your mommy?

So what if you’re not out there on the street or in a field hunting! Don’t be fooled, you can still be a bad *ss if you’re in a home. Get yourself up on the kitchen counter and start hunting for food there – you’ll make out like a bandit and be warm too! Like the other day – I got myself up on the counter when mommy wasn’t around, opened a storage container and found five HUGE CUPCAKES – with FROSTING, just waiting for me to eat them. Do you hear me, boys, FROSTING! I don't know if you'v ever had it, but frosting is sooooo delicious. It's so good, you don’t even pause to take the paper off the cupcake, you just chow down on heavenly goodness.

It’s not too late boys, return to your Snoopy, playful roots, admit you have a problem and seek help. It’s the first step! Good luck.

DANGER, BEAGLE BAILEY! DANGER!

At the start of D.C.’s Snowmageddon, part one, mommy took me for a walk. Given the forecasters were predicting the snow would be deeper than I am tall, mommy wanted to make sure I could burn some energy off before the snow piled up and I would be held captive inside for a day or two. We were walking our usual route when suddenly, I felt it. DANGER, BEAGLE BAILEY. DANGER!

I let out a growl. Mommy hadn’t ever heard me growl, so she turned, looked at me and asked, “Was that your stomach?” But this was no laughing matter. I let out another low growl and gave a mean WOOF toward the danger spot. Mommy was shocked, she had never seen this side of me… it doesn’t come out often as I’m a lover, not a fighter. She turned to look in the direction I was facing so she could see the danger for herself. I positioned myself in front of her, so she would be protected.

There, at the bottom of the Hill was the cause for concern... with his menacing arms reaching out... his big head giving that vicious stare… the reason to run for your life!!!

While Visions of Peanut Butter Danced in My Head

Last night I had the most amazing dream…and I woke up remembering it. It was THAT good. I was at my friend Terrior Twilight’s house. We were just chilling, catching some rays, taking a couple cat naps, when I decided to take a dip in the pool.

So I jumped in and immediately sunk to the bottom. I panicked for a moment, as I’m no Michael Phelps in the pool…my doggie paddle wouldn’t earn me a gold medal…or even bronze…maybe the Titanic Award on a good day. But then I realized that the pool wasn’t filled with water, it was filled with PEANUT BUTTER and I had to EAT my way out. I ate and ate and ate. And then I ate and ate and ate some more. Eventually, I made it to the top. And when I got outta the pool, there, on the diving board, was a juicy steak and a bowl of water, waiting for me. I ate that too, before jumping back into the pool for some peanut butter dessert. I’m so glad I sleep 18 hours a day.

Baths are for Rubber Ducks

As a new dog owner, mommy wanted to give me a bath when I got all dirty outside. Little did she know, I don’t like baths. I knew she had never given a dog a bath before when she took off my collar. I wasn’t going to say anything, but boy was that dumb. You might as well just say GAME OVER.

In her defense, I’m usually a very quiet, calm dog, who does what he’s told and can sit patiently through brushing, or whatever, but I HATE baths. She had filled the tub with water, put me in, and I immediately jumped out and shook off the water in the bathroom. She was smart enough to close the bathroom doors ahead of time, so I give her credit for that, but a wet dog isn’t the easiest to catch. She put me back in and tried to keep me in the tub, but I was having none of that. She realized she needed the collar to hold onto me, so as she tried to sneak out the bathroom door to get it, I made a beeline outta there, and to dry off, I jumped straight onto her white bedspread SPREAD EAGLE!

She got the collar back on me and chased me back into the bathroom. She got me back in the tub and lathered me up pretty good, but I kept trying to jump out. It was almost a fun game at this point – she was wetter than I was! Eventually, realizing that she was getting nowhere, she cranked on the shower, grabbed me, and held me under the rushing water. She was really, really wet. It was really, really funny.

As she was drying me off, with me laughing all the way, she said even at $29.99, the Petsmart grooming was a bargain, as she’d need four other hands to really give me a bath. Looks like the rubber ducks are the only ones who will spend a lot of time in her tub! Ha. Quack!

This is My Blog!

Hi. I’m Beagle Bailey. Bailey for short. Although my mommy calls me Bailey Boo. Or on her particularly chummy days, I have the unfortunate distinction of being called Love Bug. She keeps the food coming, so I naturally respond, but I do it in protest.

This is my blog. You may wonder why a beagle would need a blog – or how he would even start a blog, so I’ll give you the short of it. First, I need a blog because I have a lot to say. I live in an apartment building and I’m not allowed to speak inside, so the blog gives me a good outlet. And I learned how to blog at the last rescue I was at… I think I’ve been in two rescues, and two homes besides my current one, but I’ve lost count (unlike a hand, my paw only goes to four). I’m told I was born in North Carolina and somehow made it to Virginia, but I’m no Christopher Columbus, so I’m not quite sure about that either.

What I am sure about is rescues are even bigger on activities and schedules than summer camps. They think it helps dogs forget that they’ve been lost or given up by their family. You don’t forget, but well, dogs are pretty easily distracted.

At the first rescue I was at, in North Carolina, I took Squirrel Chasing 101, The Art of Dumpster Diving and Sniffing for Dummies. At the last rescue I was at in Virginia, they offered the same courses I had already taken, so I signed up for typing and blogging…anything to help pass the time until the next meal. I really like to eat. Humans have it made – three meals a day. I only get two, but I tend to snack – whether I’m supposed to or not. Can I help it if someone leaves part of their sandwich on my walking path!? We’re in a rough economy and there are starving children out there – so I’m not about to waste food!

Anyway, back to my point…like I said, dogs are pretty easily distracted… I thought I’d try something new with a blog. And besides that, Snoopy does not represent the views of all Beagles. If politics can have viewpoints from Democrats and Republicans, then certainly there’s room in the beagle world for a Snoopy and Bailey perspective. Now, keep in mind, I’m about 15 inches tall and weigh 27 pounds, so my perspective comes from pretty close to the ground. I’m the last to feel the rain. But I see a lot from down here—and most of it looks GIANT.

I will be four in April. Not that there’s much to celebrate, as they took my manhood away years ago. To try to forget about that, I have a lot of hobbies, including, napping, sniffing, peeing on trees, getting into the garbage, eating and I enjoy being chased by other dogs (can I help it if I’m the fastest dog in the dog park!?). And let’s just clear up one misnomer about dogs right now -- we can’t all just instantly fetch and we don’t all enjoy it. I don’t fetch, nor do I want to. Why would I get a ball or stick and bring it back, only to have to do it again. Seems like valuable time wasted when I could be digging to somewhere!

Well, I hope you enjoyed my first blog post. Check back often for updates from me. You may think beagles are “just a dog” and sleep 18 hours a day, and while all that’s true, it’s those other 6 hours where we get some good stories to share!