Surf's Up!

We needed to escape the heat.  And the chaos.  Mafioso Jr turned one this weekend, and so the dogs were in a state of chaos with the birthday festivities.  Ok, I won't lie -- it was just one dog who immediately scheduled a visit to his therapist as soon as the party was over.  Take one guess. . .


So off we drove to a friendly dog beach.  The coastal fog was just what the humans needed and The Mafiosos found the much needed room to romp in the cooler air.  I was saddened to see the huge "NO PIT BULLS" sign at the entrance.  And I was ready for a fight if we did get turned away.  But we weren't given any grief...the most blatant display of breedism we encountered were a few people who would turn away in the other direction with their dogs once they saw Bruno.  Hey, whatever.  Let ignorance be your compass.  In all reality, it's Carmela that they should of have been scared of! Two people did ask what breed Bruno was, and when I answered that he was an American Bulldog, they both said "He's gorgeous!"

But of course he is. I tell him daily in case he forgets. 

How could you not think he was anything other than gorgeous?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I mean, he's almost perfect. It hurts to just look at him.

 

 

 

 

 Ok, ok, I realize I may be going a bit overboard.  But that's because I realized today that my dog is old.  He no longer has the energy he used to have and he pooped out pretty damn quickly.  So instead of focusing on how much older he's getting, I've decided to focus on the fact that he's pretty damn beautiful.

Even with his huge ol' butt.

 

 

 

 

 

Speaking of butts, that's about all I saw from Vinnie once we got to the beach.

 

 

He took off immediately with his nose going into over drive. I figured he was enchanted with seagull shit, and I wouldn't see him until I bribed him to come back with Cheerios.  Listen, I'd much rather think he was off chasing seagull shit than dead things to roll in.  Which I'm sure he did. But I'm going to pretend he didn't because just the thought of that idea gives me the shivers.

 

 

 

Gino totally thought the beached sucked.  He ran to the waves to check them out and immediately hightailed it back to me and my blanket.

 

 

He really didn't appreciate sand in all his crevices.

 

 

 

 

"Yeah, ALL my crevices if you catch my drift."

 

 

 

 

And see, now I'm back to thinking of Bruno getting old.  He's losing teeth.  In fact, I think Mafioso Jr. and him both have the same number of teeth now:  2. 

 

Anyway, I don't mean to share our happy trip story with my incessant worry that Bruno is aging by the minute.  We did have lots of fun.  And, I know that a fun time was had by all because I have photographic proof.

"Don't do it."

Do what?

Oh, you mean post the picture of you actually SMILING?



NOW WHAT?

"Just wait.  Just you wait."

Oh, look who decided to show up!

"We need to come back again tomorrow.  

There's a rotting seagull carcass I didn't finish rolling in."

A Lesson in Toughness & Stereotypes

Oh yeah, baby, I got me a new computer.  This means faster picture processing and faster blog uploading. I'm in heaven.  I'm currently in the process of divorcing my husband and marrying my new Mac.  Why didn't ya'll nag me to get a new computer sooner?


You know what I really hate about people? When they make assumptions about my dogs. For example, the #1 question I get about Bruno when a stranger sees us is "Is he vicious?"

I always answer, "No. It's the little ones you have to be careful about.  They'll get your right in your jugular if you bend over to pet them." 

Of course none of that is true.

And then Gino has to go and show just how tough and vicious he is. . .

"Grrrrrrrrrrrrr! I won't stop until I taste blood!"

I think you mean "taste sap."

"Yeah, that's right! 

I'm swinging on this big ol' log!"

Actually, it's more like a twig, but I'm not about to burst your dream lil guy.

"IT'S A LOG!"

Ok, ok, if you say so.

"Bruno, are you watching?

This is how you swing from a log!"

I don't think he's watching nor does he care.

"Well he should! 

He needs to witness my viciousness!"

Time

I'm royally pissed at The Rolling Stones.  They have lied to me.  Time is not on my side.  Where the hell has the month of May gone?  How can it already be almost the end of June? SOMEONE EXPLAIN THIS TO ME PLEASE!

To add to my lack of time, Mafioso Jr. has started crawling.  Which means I'm constantly chasing him everywhere and training him as I would a deaf dog.  My command for "No!" is a finger wagging back and forth.  Which I find myself doing a lot.  "No!" do not try and lift that toilet lid!  "No!" do not stick your head in the dog water bowl and try to drink the water like a dog!   If only he took treats as a reward, my life would be much simpler.

The crawling has thrown the Mafiosos for a bit of a loop.  For a good portion of the time that Mafioso Jr. has been living here, he's been this immobile little blob.  Now he's crawling up to them, at warp speed to boot, and they are not quite sure what to make of his awkward, jerky movement.  

Besides this, everything is pretty much the same around these parts.  We are a boring crew lately.

Pug butts still manage to infiltrate my camera shots. . .

We still have freakishly large heads . . .

"Wait . . . mine or the baby's?"

Both of you!

And for the record, I'd like to add that Bruno is not wearing a shock collar.  I recently had someone mistake the battery pack of his light-up collar as a shock element.    

Speaking of Bruno, he's warmed up to Mafioso Jr.  So basically, as long as Mafioso Jr. doesn't touch him or look in his general direction, things are swell.

Um, Bruno, don't look now, but the baby's touching you.  You guys are actually kind of holding paws.

"HE TOUCHED ME!! AHHHHHHHH!"

So I know everyone said that having a baby would change my life.  And yes, to some degree it did.  I now have alphabet magnetic letters adorning my fridge instead of the sole beer cap opener.  But guess what?  I find a way to make it work with my four dogs.  And I like it that way.