Couper's Poop

I Don't Want To Be A Pirate!!!

2011-10-31T19:22:00.002-07:00

The worst puppy day of the year. Not only do kids come and ring the doorbell and dress strange and get treats, but we get dressed up in all sorts of goofy outfits (and get laughed at)! And begging for treats is our gig!

I don't want to be a court jester or a bumble bee either! Is it Thanksgiving yet???

(Special guest post from Couper and Godiva)

Spoiled and Spoileder

2011-10-26T18:25:00.001-07:00

Today, we shall learn the definitions of two words; spoiled and spoileder.

Spoiled:
Below are the presents that Couper got for his birthday...

A pretty nice haul (and nicely packaged I might add). Just to prove that they got the presents, here are Couper and Godiva opening one...

Spoiled puppies.

Spoileder:

Here are two puppies the next day.

I could not figure out what in the world they wanted on the computer room table. There was nothing up there for puppies. No toys. No bones. No yummies. Despite picking them up and showing them there was nothing there for them, they kept going to the table and whining (Godiva) or jumping (Couper).

Finally, I figured out what they were after:

Admidst all the clutter (and dachshund merchandise) is a bag that we had gotten a month or so before from Sur La Table. It had been on the desk for a couple of weeks. However, since they had gotten presents in gift bags the day before, Couper and Godiva decided that this must be a lost present (because obviously they had not gotten enough the day before).

Spoileder puppies. (Maybe spoiledest puppies, though I am not sure that is actually a word).

Happy 9th Birthday Little Buddy!!!

2011-10-01T06:00:00.000-07:00

Happy 9th Birthday to our founder and inspiration, Couper.

So, not to get off subject, but we are in a bit of an economic mess in this country right now. A lot of smart people have a lot of smart ideas about how to get us out of it. The smart folks on the left say, tax the rich and the government will use the money to create jobs. The smart folks on the right say, cut taxes and companies will use the savings to create jobs. The dumb-ass dachshund blogger says, have everyone get a dachshund. It can happen through taxes and government give-aways. It can happen through tax cuts and private incentives. I don't care. Just get a dachshund in everyone's hands. Then, once a year, that dachshund will have a birthday. And the dachshund owner will go to four stores and spend triple digit dollars on birthday presents. I mean, look at those eyes in the picture above. Are you not going to get him lots and lots of birthday presents? And the genius of this solution is that it is not a one time or limited time solution. This is no holiday rush. No Black Friday. Multiple dachshund birthdays every day of the year. Economic crisis solved. Now who is the dumb-ass and who is the smart folk?

Anyhow, we may have gone a bit overboard on presents for Couper's birthday (and as Couper's Mommy reminds me, by "we", I mean "I"). But, it must be a special birthday, because the Beatles couldn't stop ~~singing~~ chanting about it:

Number 9...Number 9...Number 9...Number 9

Happy Birthday Little Buddy!!!

Little Buddy and Diverdoodle: A Dachsund By Any Other Name...

2011-09-04T00:04:00.000-07:00

You knew it would only be a matter of time before we started quoting Shakespeare (“They’re booing Shakespeare”).

Couper and Godiva’s Gamma Mommy was in town last week and was confounded when Godiva’s Mommy said to Godiva, “Come on in Diverdoodle”. “What did you call her?” “Diverdoodle.” “How long have you been calling her that?”

We don’t even think about it, but we have been calling her that, among other things forever. Same with Couper. Somehow nicknames appear and evolve.

So, let’s look at our dogs’ various names:
Couper

Couper:
Origin: Coupe.
Originator: Couper’s Mommy
Story: We are Couper’s third family. In his second family, he was called Frank. That name was out, because Couper’s Mommy’s brother has a dachshund named Frankie. Calling the new dachshund Frank would be confusing and derivative. Couper’s first family called him Coupe, so, after much deliberation (and a few days of calling him, “Hey You”), Couper’s Mommy (not her name until after Couper was named by the way), decided we should add the “r” and call him Couper.

Coupe
Origin: Couper (Circular reference alert!!!)
Originator: Couper’s Mommy and Big Buddy
Story: Short for Couper, though not that much shorter.

Little Buddy
Origin: Not sure.
Originator: Big Buddy (not my name until I started calling Couper “Little Buddy”)
Story: I really do not know where Little Buddy came from. The Gilligan’s Island connotation (Skipper’s name for Gilligan for the uncultured) always kind of bothered me, so it wasn’t that (at least I didn’t call him “Lovey” - Mr. Howell’s name for Mrs. Howell, as if you did not know). I started calling Couper “Little Buddy” very early, so it was probably me desperately trying to confirm that we were friends; “Are you my Little Buddy?” Eventually, I would use Little Buddy as a name and I became Big Buddy (because I am taller and weigh more).

Little Bud (or Lil’ Bud)
Origin: Little Buddy (see above)
Originator: Big Buddy
Story: Nothing much here. Little Buddy is an absurd four syllables. Little Bud is three. Lil’ Bud is two. When it comes to syllables, three or two is much greater than four. Therefore, Little Bud is our most used moniker for Couper.

Little Buddy Biscuit
Origin: Little Buddy (see above) and Seabiscuit
Originator: Big Buddy
Story: After watching the movie Seabiscuit, I made the comment that the movie was fine, but it would be 100 times better if it was about a racing dachshund instead of a race horse (by the way, I routinely make the same statement about all movies; ET? better with a dachshund; Jaws? dachshund; Apollo 13? dachshund). I proposed Little Buddy for the lead and re-naming it “Little Buddy Biscuit”. Couper’s Gamma Buddy really took to this idea and still calls him “Little Buddy Biscuit” on occasion all these years later.

Couper Knute (pronounced Ka-nute)
Origin: Couper’s Great Granddaddy Mommy, Knute
Originator: Couper’s Mommy
Story: Couper is stubborn. Couper’s Mommy’s grandfather Knute was stubborn. As a tribute to stubbornness, Couper got a last name. For years Couper’s Mommy called him Couper Knute, but I had no idea why. I figured it was alliteration. As you will see, these names do not need to make any sense. Finally, one day out of the blue, she explained it to me. To this day, however, I have no idea why Knute (which to me is associated with Knute Rocknie - and pronounced “Nute”) is pronounced “Ka-Nute”. Regardless, ICouper Ka-Nute, sounds better than Couper Nute.

Cuepa (Pronounced Cue-pa)
Origin: Couper’s 3 year old human cousin Hanna’s pronunciation of Couper
Story: You would guess that Hanna is from Brooklyn or Boston, or someplace that eliminates the letter R from the end of words. Hanna is 7 now. I do not believe she has ever been east of the Mississippi. If she has, she could probably skip a rock on the Mississippi from there. But somehow, she came up with the ultimate East Coast pronunciation for Couper. As a native New Yorker, I am very jealous.

Killer

Origin: Couper like to bark

Originator: Couper's Gamma Mommy's neighbor

Story: When the neighbor of Couper's Gamma Mommy would see Couper, Couper would bark at her as he does with everyone who comes to the door. Amusing to the neighbor, she started calling him Killer when he was having his fit. For her, that name stuck.

Godiva

Godiva
Origin: Chocolate
Originator: Godiva’s Mommy
Story: Godiva’s Mommy (then - and still - named Couper’s Mommy) always wanted a female Chocolate Lab and wanted to call her Godiva. When we got Couper, and half a million dollars worth of dachshund paraphernalia, I put my foot down on buying a different breed of dog. Especially one as popular a lab, which likely has 5 times the paraphernalia as dachshunds (which translates to us buying $2.5M in merchandise). There was no way we could afford that. When we found the ad for dachshund puppies, there were two female choices. I’m not saying we selected a puppy based on her colors and a pre-chosen name, but Godiva was white, light brown, and dark brown (white chocolate, milk chocolate, and dark chocolate - though Godiva’s Mommy does not like that analogy). Her sister, our other choice that night, was grey and black. You do the math.

Godiver
Origin: Cuepa (see Couper’s section above)
Originator: Big Buddy
Story: Refusing to be outdone by a 5 year old Las Vegas native, I immediately added the East Coast R to a name ending with A. I got all my East Coast street cred back with this one.(My favorite TV show? Lore and Outta)

Diver
Origin: Godiver
Originator: Big Buddy
Story: Short for Godiver

Diveroo
Origin: Godiver shortened to Diver and Howard Cosell
Originator: Big Buddy
Story: Back in the mid 80’s Nightline had a special edition where they looked at the problems with college sports. Like a lot of Nightline special editions, nothing came of it. The same problems from 25 years ago are still problems. However, one of their guests was the one and only Howard Cosell. Remarking on the decline and fall of college athletics he said the following about then Notre Dame head basketball coach Digger Phelps: “and in South Bend, they are even booing the Diggeroo”. Now this line is great on like a thousand levels. But mostly because he took a person’s popular nickname, Digger (given name Richard), and upped that into a nickname that nobody else used, Diggeroo, to make himself sound like he was closer to Digger than you could ever be. Anyhow, for years after that, I enjoyed adding “roo” to people’s names. So, years later, when Godiva turned into Diver, it was inevitable that Diver turned into Diveroo.

Diverdoo
Origin: Diveroo and alliteration?
Originator: Big Buddy
Story: Not sure on this one. Maybe Diveroo needed more alliteration, so another d was added? One way or another, this turned out to be the name we use for her the most.

Diverdoodle
Origin: Diverdoo
Originator: Big Buddy
Story: As long as we are going to give our puppy girl a name that has almost no bearing to her actual name, might as well add an “odle” to it.

Diverdon’t
Origin: Diverdoo and Potty Issues
Originator: Big Buddy/Godiva’s Mommy
Story: When she poops and/or pees when we want her to, she is a Diverdoo. When she screws around looking for lizards or gets distracted by sound and does not pee or poop (which happens way more often than not), she is a Diverdon’t

Mischief
Origin: Godiva is full of it sometimes
Originator: Godiva’s Mommy
Story: When Godiva gets into trouble, her mommy tells her, “We should have called you mischief, because that is what you are”

Sprinkles
Origin: Godiva like to roll around in mesquite tree leaves
Originator: Big Buddy
Story: We have an artificial turf putting green in the back yard. Artificial turf sounds pretty maintenance free, but we have two mesquite trees that hang over the turf. Mesquite trees drop stuff 10 and a half months of the year, not the least of which are their little leaves. When Godiva goes outside, no matter how badly she need to go potty, she will find a patch of turf with mesquite leaves and roll around in them. When she gets up, the leaves stick to her body like sprinkles on ice cream. Therefore, Sprinkles.

I am sure there are more for both Couper and Godiva. As I said to start this post, way back when, we don’t even think about the names we use for them. Who knows what else we call Dinky and Farthead.

Happy 3rd Birthday Godiva!!!

2011-03-11T09:00:00.006-07:00

Happy third birthday to our little puppy girl Godiva!

According to one independent expert, three is when dachshund puppy girls grow up. We have been counting down the days. Gone are the days of 2AM wake-up calls and eating beds and chewing toes (human's and Mr. Hiney's) and whining incessantly for dinner. Finally we can leave our dirty socks on the floor where they belong. The laundry hamper is going back to IKEA! Yup, we're going to really enjoy the new Godiva and it all starts today...because it sure wasn't that way yesterday.

No matter what, we wish Godiva the happiest birthday ever (it better be, we spent enough on presents and cards). She may even get an extra bellyrub out of the deal.

(Fun added bellyrub update. When Godiva wants a bellyrub in the morning, I make her wait until I am out of the shower, dried off, and dressed. The last part of the equation is putting my pants on. So, if she is not in the room, I will call for her, "Godiva, I'm putting my pants on" and she comes running down the hall. The last couple of days, whenever I am putting on pants, morning, changing after work, putting on pajamas at night, Godiva thinks that is bellyrub time. When she sees pants, she runs up the stairs to the bed and rolls over. And of course, I give in. This of course wouldn't be an issue if we lived in a pants-free society as I have been lobbying for since the late '80's. Damn societal hang ups.)

Bellyrub (Pop) Do Do Do Do

2011-02-10T21:17:00.009-07:00

Godiva has a new passion. Not that she has outgrown her old ones. She still enjoys stealing socks, or dryer sheets, or towels and running around the living room with them (By the way, I think the reason she always brings them to the living room is so she can be chased around the sofas and escape under the tables. She rarely takes anything she is allowed to have in there. So when we see her half-hidden behind a sofa on the floor of the living room, we have a pretty good idea something’s up). She also still enjoys chasing lizards and biting toes. Her new passion is a little less destructive. She loves bellyrubs.

Now, Couper loves bellyrubs too. All dogs love bellyrubs. However, Godiva takes it to the next level. Where Couper will roll over for a bellyrub, within a minute, whether having gotten a bellyrub or not, he will say (metaphorically of course), “That’s enough of that, let’s play” and get up to do something else. Godiva, on the other hand, will just lie on her back forever waiting for and/or receiving a bellyrub.

Godiva’s patience waiting for a bellyrub is amazing. Let’s say I am in the den on the computer. She will come in, whine, roll over on her back, and look up at me saying (again, metaphorically), “Hey you, here I am! Bellyrub time!!!” The amazing part is that I can go out of the room, make a sandwich, come back, and there she is in the same spot in the same position. Well, that’s not true, if I made a sandwich, she would come out to see if she was getting something to eat too. Bad example. Change make a sandwich with do laundry. Uh, no, bad example again. She would come out looking for stray socks. But anything else I would leave the room to do, when I come back, there she is on her back waiting for a bellyrub.

When Godiva gets a bellyrub, she is equally as patient. She will lie there as I rub away. After a while, my arm or hand gets tired. She will wait for me to switch hands. After a while longer, I will get tired of bellyrubbing entirely. She just lies there and looks at me with those big puppy eyes. Eventually I get scared that I am going to rub away all the tummy tissue and see her exposed intestines; like the old Operation game, but with a live dachshund.

And that’s all well and good except that she likes to get a bellyrub in the morning as I am getting ready to go to work. Not being a morning person, that task is difficult in and of itself. I don’t have 20 spare minutes to give Godiva the bellyrub that she wants. But there she is, morning after morning, waiting for me on the bed while I get dressed. Knowing that we will be gone all day makes it all the more difficult to say no to her pathetic, and cute, plea. So, I came up with a game. While giving her a bellyrub, I sing her two verses of the Bellyrub Song. At the end of the Bellyrub Song, I yell, “Yay!!!” and that’s the end of that.

What’s the Bellyrub Song you ask? It is the old “Lollypop” song with bellyrub subbed in:

Bellyrub bellyrub oh belly belly rub

Bellyrub

(Pop)

Do do do do

(repeat from the top)

Yay!!!

I am not sure how I came up with it, but it is genius (except that I can’t do the proper mouth pop, so it is more like a cluck than a pop – she doesn’t seem to mind). She gets a bellyrub and we are done in a minute or so (that is why I made the Bellyrub Song to the tune of Lollypop, not Stairway to Heaven). Better yet, she seems to like the “Yay” celebration most of all. When she hears that, she hops in one motion from her back to her feet (by far the most athletic thing she does), leaps off the bed with her tail wagging 1000 wags per minute, and sprints to tell Couper and her Mommy that she got a bellyrub. You have never seen anybody more excited about anything. Sometimes she is so anxious to get to the celebration that she tries to take off after only one verse of the Bellyrub Song. I have to hold her down for the second verse, because I feel it is only fair to her (not to mention I enjoy the sound of my own singing voice). Whatever, it works and with our demanding little Godiva, that's all that matters. Not to mention it is secretly my favorite part of the day (don't tell anyone).

Happy 8th Birthday Couper!!!

2010-10-01T07:00:00.001-07:00

Happy 8th Birthday to our title puppy, Couper!

Last year I wrote the world's most confusing post about him turning seven, but having more energy than he had at six. Honestly, read it. It makes little to no sense. I have to find out what I was taking that day and get back on it immediately.

Anyhow, the point of last year's birthday wish was supposed to be that Couper had a lot more energy than he had in a long time. I am happy to report that this year is no different. He is still playing at every opportunity. In fact, he now likes to wake up a half hour or so before us, just to get a head start on playing. As you can imagine, that does not go over well.

All this playing has had at least one positive effect. Here is a picture of Couper last September:

He is a little pudgy there.

And here is a picture of him this September.

This is the classic Nutrisystem before and after picture. Not only is he thinner, but he is actually kind of cut (can't really tell from that picture, you'll just have to believe me this time). He is being fed the same (same as Godiva, who herself is a little on the pudgy side). Because they are September pictures, and we live in Arizona, he has not been regularly walked since May. So, the only difference is his activity level. He has had more than a year of puppy-like playing. It really shows. (A giant knock on wood for all of this good health).

Couper's Mommy and I have been trying to lose a pound or two ourselves. We tried to use Couper as our inspiration, but we came to the realization that we don't love doing anything as much as Couper loves playing (anything productive anyhow...I am sure I love sitting on the sofa, drinking beer, and watching TV almost as much). Writing blog posts burns calories, doesn't it???

So, the Poop wishes the new thinner Couper a happy 8th birthday. As always, Couper not only has a birthday, not just a birthweek, but a birthmonth. They don't call it Dachtober for nothing.

Travel

2010-09-22T21:06:00.005-07:00

I hate travel.

I hate planning for travel. I hate travel websites. I hate comparing flights. I hate picking flights. I hate rental car websites. I hate hotel websites. I hate travel websites.

I hate airport shuttles. I hate air caps. I hate ticket agents. I hate security. I hate taking shoes off. I hate their seemingly random rules. I hate the metal detector. I hate the line. I hate finding a place to put shoes back on. I hate finding the stuff that went through the conveyor.

I hate gates. I hate the restaurants around the gates (the bars, not so much). I hate the gate agents. I hate the check-in and boarding process.

I hate finding seats. I hate overhead bins. I hate people I don’t know sitting next to me. I hate flight attendants. I hate the safety spiel (are we going to have a water landing??? great). I hate the seat in an upright position. I hate returning to the gate for “precautionary measures”.

I hate the take-off. I hate the cloud/mountain turbulence. I hate the Fasten Seat-belt sign. I hate that sharp turn they always have to do because we had to take off in the wrong direction.

I hate the drink cart. I hate the drink prices. I hate the snack. I hate the bathrooms. I hate the movie. I hate the in-flight turbulence.

I hate the approach. I hate circling to wait for permission to land. I hate the touch-down. I hate the screeching stop. I hate taxiing. I hate waiting for a gate.

I hate deplaning. I hate the fake sincere wave goodbye. I hate the other terminal’s gate.

I hate the walk to baggage claim. I hate baggage claim. I hate baggage.

I hate rental car shuttles and/or trams. I hate rental car agents (they can take the reservation, they just don’t know how to keep the reservation). I hate finding the rental car. I hate checking out the rental car. I hate rental cars.

I hate hotels. I hate checking-in. I hate finding rooms. I hate card keys. I hate bellhops if and when they exist.

I hate hotel rooms. I hate hotel bathrooms. I hate hotel showers. I hate hotel shower soap. I hate hotel shower shampoo. I hate hotel toilet paper. I hate hotel beds. I hate hotel TVs (does it always have to turn on to the pay-per-view channel? Don’t you have enough of my money?). I hate hotel clocks. I hate hotel wi-fi (if they even have it).

I hate hotel breakfasts. I hate hotel restaurants. Hotel bars can be OK.

I hate returning rental cars.

I hate everything in reverse about airports, flights, airports again, and shuttles.

However, add all that hate up. Multiply it by 1000. And that doesn’t even come close to how much I hate boarding our puppies.

Side Note: Because our flight was so early, we had to board them late in the afternoon the day before we left. Dropping them off was bad enough (with our two pages of instructions, box full of foods, two beds, blankets, toys, and recently worn shirts - so they would not forget us). Yes, Couper barked and Godiva whined. But worse was coming home to an empty house. It was horribly quiet. Not in the barking all the time sense. Just in the lack of activity sense. There was no one shoving a toy at me. Or biting my toe. Neither Couper's Mommy or I slept well without them crawling all over us in bed. I accidentally stepped on a toy (not difficult to do) and Couper didn't come racing to it. It was very strange and very sad.

Side Note 2: On the third day of our vacation, I got a call on my cell phone from our home area code. My heart stopped. I told Couper's Mommy, "I think it might be the vet". Her heart stopped. I sheepishly answered the phone.

Caller: Hello. This is Jan from Grayhawk Animal Hospital. Is this Big Buddy?

Me: Yes [I am about to have a panic attack]

Caller: I am calling about Couper and Godiva.

Me: Uh huh [I look over at Couper's Mommy. She is terrified]

Caller: I just wanted you to know that they are doing fine.

Me: Uh, thanks [My blood pressure drops 200 points]

Now, it is great that they kept us updated. We called them the first day, and were going to call them later the third day. But that scared the crap out of us. We thought they would only call in case of emergency. I had a split second nightmare of having to authorize surgery because Couper ate Godiva.

So, a word of advice to all dog boarders out there. Don't call. And if you do, make the first words, "Your dogs are fine, just thought you should know"

Side Note 3: I hate travel. Just in case you hadn't heard. Or forgot.

Happy Mommy's Day Couper&Godiva's Mommy

2010-05-09T07:00:00.000-07:00

Couper and Godiva would like to wish Couper&Godiva's Mommy a happy Mommy's Day!

They get to appreciate their mommy more this Mommy's Day since their mommy is traveling this weekend to see Couper&Godiva's Grandmommy. So, it is up to me to remember to feed them, and take them out to go potty, and make sure they aren't eating the living room carpet. This single puppy parenting is exhausting. So even though they are on edge, wondering who stole their mommy and barking at any and every noise, and miss their mommy very much, I am not sure they miss her more than I do.

Happy Mommy's Day to all the puppy mommies!

Happy 2nd Birthday Godiva!!!

2010-03-11T17:58:00.006-07:00

Happy 2nd Birthday to our favorite puppy girl, Godiva!!!

It is hard to believe that our little girl is 2 already. I went with pictures of her doing two of her favorite things, napping and playing football. I really need a picture of her stealing socks.

In honor or her birthday, a quick Godiva story:

We like to kid about Godiva chewing hands and feet, but she has grown out of that a little. She really has become the cuddle puppy that we were hoping for. However, just snuggling up next to a leg on the sofa sometimes isn't enough for her. Her new thing is to climb up on either me or her mommy and smother us. Not just a full body hug, but climbing onto our body and then putting her head over our face. She does this on the sofa, or even more fun, in bed in the middle of the night. To make it more fun, she will then give us little licks. If she positions herself just right, her tongue will make it into a nostril or two. Yes, that is every bit as unpleasant to experience as it is to read. We wanted a cuddle puppy. We wanted the bitey puppy gone. We got it. Just a bit more of extreme than we were planning on.

Happy Birthday Godiva!!! From Couper, Mommy, and Daddy!!!

I Bought Godiva a Snuggie - Now She's Smarter Than Me

2010-03-03T21:10:00.013-07:00

If you are a fan of late night television (or programs that can't sell real advertising - you know - Coke, Budweiser, Ford, Depends .etc), then you know what a Snuggie is. For those more fortunate, a Snuggie is a blanket with sleeves. Remember the old days, when blankets didn't have sleeves? Ever try to use a remote, or read a book, or drink some coffee while wrapped up in one of those things? Impossible! You were trapped like a dolphin in a tuna net. Pretty much all you could do was scratch yourself. Well, a Snuggie solves that problem. It has sleeves built right into the blanket. So now you can eat a piece of pie, or do a crossword puzzle, or do the wave all while staying warm.

That's great for people, but what about our best friends? Are they doomed to inactivity while trying to stay warm? Nope. They came out with Snuggies for Dogs.

And I got Godiva one for Christmas. Why?

Well, for one thing, she gets cold easily. At the very least, she shows the effects of the cold more than Couper.

More importantly, take a look at the box:

If you know anything about us (specifically me), we do not pass up items that have Little Buddies on them. So, realistically, since the box has a red dachshund on it, I should have gotten this for Couper. Except that the Petsmart did not have the blue Snuggies for Dogs in that size (side note: I knew the size was going to be too small as well, but the next size up had one of the other leading dog breeds on it, and I was not having any of that. I was getting the box with the Little Buddy on the front, right size or not. I really should be institutionalized, or at least get a thorough check-up).

I was pretty excited about my purchase, until I looked at the back of the box. Remember how people could be warm and productive with Snuggies for Humans? Well look at the picture on the bottom left:

A little closer:

That's right. Dogs playing backgammon. Suddenly I got scared. I can't play backgammon. Couper's Mommy can't play backgammon. There is a good chance that you can't play backgammon. In fact I think backgammon is one of those games that the Most Interesting Man in the World plays (I may be confusing backgammon with backarat, but even so, I bet the 10,000th Most Interesting Man in the World plays backgammon. Point being, I think you have to have a Most Interesting Man ranking to play backgammon). Now, because she has a Snuggie for Dogs, Godiva is going to be playing backgammon. She'll probably demand that we get one for Couper so that she will have someone to play backgammon with, because, again, we sure can't play backgammon.

Now, it isn't as if I haven't long ago resigned myself as Couper and Godiva's unpaid servant. I realize they control the house. I know it every third step I take in the house when my foot lands on a toy or a bone. However, I always thought I had the intellectual upper hand. I have read books (a few that didn't even involve coloring). I graduated from college somehow. I can add two two-digit numbers together. But now I envisioned an intellectual shift in the house. The puppies playing backgammon would just be the start. They would also have us turn off "The Girls Next Door" and turn on the Discovery Channel. Godiva would spend her time solving quadradic equations while Couper studied Shakespeare. It would be the Planet of the Puppies, with Couper's Mommy and me as Nova and Charlton Heston and Couper and Godiva as Dr. Zaius and Zira.

Then we opened up the box and put the (too small) Snuggie for Dogs on Godiva:

Have you ever seen a happier puppy? I'll be lucky if the Humane Society does not break down the door and arrest me for subjecting her to this. Not only would there be no backgammon, there would be no movement whatsoever until one of us took this insane contraption off of her. And since she and Couper like to chew blankets anyhow, there are plenty of leg holes for backgammon or holding a bone anyhow.

Puppies of the Decade!!!

2009-12-31T21:03:00.003-07:00

This just in, Couper and Godiva have been named puppies of the decade!!! Puppies of the '00's? Well, yes, but that is not breaking news. They were named that a long time ago. Nope, they are the puppies of the new decades, the '10's. That's right. A panel of independent experts have given the prestigious award to Couper and Godiva. So, the rest of you puppies can take the decade off and hope for the best in the '20's.

Happy New Year from the Poop!

A Christmas Miracle

2009-12-31T20:48:00.006-07:00

No, nobody saved a life, or rescued a child from a presentless Christmas, or made a 7 course meal out of gruel and tree bark. But I think this ranks right up there.

Take a look at the following picture:

Looks like an ordinary stocking ornament on a tree, right?

Now take a look in a wider context:

Looks like the ornament is near the bottom of the tree. Nothing extraordinary there still, no?

Now look at this picture:

Uh, oh. Trouble.

Here is the miracle. That stocking stayed in that position on the tree for a whole month of December. We had bet it would be gone by the 3rd.

Top that Tiny Tim!

Oh Dachshund Tree

2009-12-20T21:45:00.004-07:00

The world's largest and finest Dachshund tree*. (Click on picture for larger view)

Merry Christmas from the Poop!

* Based on no actual research. May not be the world's largest or finest Dachshund tree. May in fact be the world's smallest and lousiest Dachshund tree. However, it is the only Dachshund tree we have, and it is a mighty nice Dacshund tree at that.

Couper and Godiva Give Thanks

2009-11-26T07:00:00.002-07:00

This year for Thanksgiving, I have assigned Couper and Godiva to sit down and write about all the things for which they are thankful. How did they do that? We have a WoofToEnglish Didactic Transmodulator 3000 hooked to the USB2 port. What, like there is another way?

Couper: So, Big Buddy wants us to list all the things that make us thankful
Godiva: What is thankful?
Couper: All the things we like.
Godiva: Tail waggers?
Couper: Sure
Godiva: I have one!!! Yummies!!! Yummies!!! Yummies!!!
Couper: Alright already. I heard you the first time. Yummies!!!
Godiva: Ooh. I love yummies! They’re delicious.
Couper: I know, they’re like, yummy. Maybe we should list all the things we do to get yummies. Like poop.
Godiva: Pooping is fun!!! Daddy says so. He says it is because it is stinky and we get to use our hinies.
Couper: Yeah, I’ve heard him say that too. I never thought pooping was quite as fun as he makes it seem.
Godiva: But we get yummies for it!
Couper: Yup, so it goes on the list.
Godiva: I guess peeing should go on the list too.
Couper: I agree. Now that is fun. I get to pee on things like trees, and bushes, and patio lamps, and house columns, and your pee.
Godiva: Why do you do that?
Couper: Because I am top dog.
Godiva: Says who?
Couper: Says me, because I pee on top of your pee.
Godiva: Oh. I don’t really pee on anything, but it is fun, because we get yummies, if we do it outside.
Couper: Yeah, outside seems important. I’m not sure why we have to pee and poop outside all the time, and I only see mommy or Big Buddy pee or poop outside sometimes.
Godiva: Maybe we should list going outside.
Couper: Going potty outside, or just going outside?
Godiva: Just going outside. Sometimes we get a yummie just for doing that.
Couper: I know. It’s confusing, but I’m not complaining. Know what else is cool? When we go outside and only I pee, then we go inside and both get a yummie. And then you sit at the door a minute later and we both go outside and you pee and we go inside and both get a yummie again. That’s much better than when we go outside once and both pee and then only get one yummie.
Godiva: Yeah! Thanks for teaching me that one early on. Should we list that?
Couper: Nope. We don’t want anyone to know our secret.
Godiva: Yeah, like the refuse the first yummie trick?
Couper: Right, where I refuse to eat the first yummie, so then Big Buddy gives me a second yummie and I then eat both.
Godiva: Genius!!!
Couper: Thanks. Let’s not list that either.
Godiva: So what should we list?
Couper: Well, we get yummies for sitting. Let’s list that.
Godiva: Good one. I don’t get that either. We just sit and get a yummie for it.
Couper: I know. How easy is that. If they gave Big Buddy a yummie every time he sat, he would weigh 450 pounds.
Godiva: Good one, Couper. Should we list all the yummies we like?
Couper: No, that would take too much time. Hey, know what else? We eat din din too. I like din din.
Godiva: Me too. I’m really thankful when Mommy or Daddy crush a liver yummie in it. I like to pretend I’m not interested until they do. So it’s kinda like another thing that we get a yummie for.
Couper: Yeah, I get one too. Thanks. Getting a yummie for eating din din. That’s pretty nice.
Godiva: And breakfast too! Let’s list that.
Couper: Yeah, that’s good too. I hear Mommy say all the time that it takes longer to make our breakfast than her and daddy’s breakfast. It is a delicious breakfast!
Godiva: Especially when we get liver yummies crushed in it!!!
Couper: How about Sunday Lunch, you know, where we get a chew treat while Mommy and Daddy eat lunch on Sunday.
Godiva: And Saturday too!!!
Couper: I know, but they still call it Sunday Lunch for some reason.
Godiva: Daddy and Mommy are strange sometimes.
Couper: Hey, enough about food, how have we gone this far without being thankful for playing?!?!?!?
Godiva: Well, playing is fun, but I don’t get to do it much. You always steal my toys.
Couper: Yeah, and toys too!!! Playing and toys!!! Oh I like playing and toys!!! Let’s quit this goofy list and play with toys!!!
Godiva: I think Daddy wants us to do this list.
Couper: Oh, yeah. I guess we owe it to him. He plays a lot. In the old house, he even played with me when he was in the shower. That was the best.
Godiva: I like playing too, but you…
Couper: And while watching TV. TV is great because daddy will just sit there and throw the ball while watching. He also plays when he is brushing his teeth. I sit around the corner and push the ball towards him, so he can’t see me, and then he kicks it out to me. Man, I could play all day with toys!!!
Godiva: always take the toy…
Couper: And outside is the best. Mommy says we got this new house just because the yard is big so that I could play. I like playing!!! And toys, did I mention toys???
Godiva: So I wind up chasing lizards. Hey,what about lizards? I don’t like lizards. Should we list that?
Couper: I think we’re only supposed to list things we like.
Godiva: I like chasing them.
Couper: But you don’t like lizards themselves. Let’s not list things we don’t like, like doorbells, and strangers, and loud noises, and other people playing, and other dogs barking, and unreachable toys, and baths, and wind, and cold.
Godiva: Yeah, let’s not list vacuums, and loud trucks, and motorcycles, and birds, and bunnies, and when Mommy and Daddy leave.
Couper: Agreed. We won’t list those.
Godiva: I like to chew things. Can we be thankful for chewing?
Couper: Sure. Chewing is great.
Godiva: We could list all our chew toys, like bones, and rope, and rugs, and blankets, and sofas, and toes.
Couper: Mommy and Daddy don’t like it when you chew a lot of those things. Especially toes.
Godiva: So, they can keep those off their list. They are making a list too, aren’t they?
Couper: Not sure. They don’t like when you steal laundry either. Should we put that on our list too?
Godiva: Yes!!! I love stealing socks!!! That’s the most fun.
Couper: Got it. This is tiring. Can we take a nap?
Godiva: Naps! Let’s list naps!
Couper: Great idea. Taking naps with Big Buddy on the sofa or Mommy on the bed are the best.
Godiva: And sleeping in the bed at night. That’s the best too!
Couper: I like sleeping between my Big Buddy’s legs.
Godiva: I like sleeping on my Mommy’s legs.
Couper: Sometimes I like to crawl under the covers and lick Big Buddy’s legs.
Godiva: I like to crawl on Daddy’s pillow and put my head on his face. Hey, should we list these?
Couper: We’ll list sleeping in the bed. They aren’t as excited about the other things as we are.
Godiva: I’m thankful they take me outside to go potty during the night.
Couper: They aren’t as thankful that you do that either.
Godiva: No wonder I don’t get yummies for that.
Couper: Hey, I’m thankful for neck rubs and belly rubs! I’ve learned that if you nudge under Mommy or Daddy’s hand with your head, they automatically give you a neck rub.
Godiva: I really like belly rubs!!! I can lie on my back for 10 minutes waiting for one.
Couper: OK, those are on the list. Anything else?
Godiva: Walks!!! I love walks!
Couper: Me too! We get to bark and pee and poop around the neighborhood.
Godiva: I just walk, but I like them anyway. I like to pull Mommy around. That’s fun.
Couper: I went to Kindergarten to learn not to pull Daddy. You’ll go and learn that someday too.
Godiva: But you still pull Daddy too.
Couper: I know. That’s what’s great about Kindergarten, we get a diploma and the people soon forget.
Godiva: Wow, you are the coolest big brother.
Couper: Alright, anything else? Are we forgetting anything?
Godiva: Did we list yummies?
Couper: Yup. And playing. We have playing and toys and playing.
Godiva: Hmmm. I can’t think of anything. Can you?
Couper: Nope, not really…
Godiva: Hey, what about Mommy…
Couper: and Daddy!
Godiva: Yeah, let’s list them. They’re pretty nice to us.
Couper: They sure are. I have been in other houses where I didn’t get this much stuff and attention. I’m glad they found me.
Godiva: I’m glad they found me too.
Couper: OK, I’m listing them. I hope we’re on their list too. They’re doing a list too, aren’t they?
Godiva: I hope so.

(Editor’s Note: Nope, we’re not doing a list)

Couper: This being Thankful is exhausting. Let's go outside, go potty, get a yummy, find Mommy and Daddy, take a nap, and get a belly rub.
Godiva: Sounds good to me.

Have a Happy Thanksgiving. As always, don’t dress your dachshunds up as Turkeys this week

Happy Halloweiner - The Worst Day of the Year for Dogs

2009-10-31T12:13:00.008-07:00

Happy Halloweiner from the Poop!

Without a doubt, Halloween is the worst day of the year for dogs.

First, you have the evil looking Halloween decorations:

Then you have all the kids ringing the doorbell:

And worst of all, you have those humans who just have to dress you up in some sort of ridiculous costume (or worse, multiple ridiculous costumes) and then have the nerve to laugh at you:

It has to get better tomorrow.

Happy Halloweiner. And please remember, don't dress your puppy up as a Butterfinger Bar. It might get eaten.

Scenes From a Spoiled Puppy's Birthday

2009-10-17T23:22:00.000-07:00

Scenes from Couper's seventh birthday party...

The presents sitting and waiting. One might observe that the table on which the presents are posing is awfully short. I wonder if that will come into play. One might also observe the stuff on the sofa. Yes, that pile was previously on the coffee table. Professional photographers might have moved them out of the camera shot. Professional photographers might also charge you for seeing these photos. I call it an even trade off.

"Come on mommy, let's go!!! We've got presents!!! Hurry!!!"

Somehow, Couper actually knows what presents are and assumes all presents are for him. I have no idea how he could presume such a thing after six years here. Couper also is noticing that the table seems awfully short.

The present on the far end is his "big present" and the one he is supposed to open last. Couper has different ideas.

From here, we miss Couper jumping on the table and knocking down a gift bag. In retrospect, I wish I had taken a picture of that, but in real time, I was shouting, "Couper, get off the table!!!!". Not sure why I should have been surprised by him jumping up there. Maybe I was just reacting the way I thought I was supposed to react.

Dachshund head in dachshund bag leaving only dachshund hiney. He does this with all the presents he gets. We have a hundred photos like this. It's amazing that we get to reuse these bags year after year for birthdays and Christmas. The tissue paper is a little less reusable.

The "big present". A puppy boomerang. It says it is virtually indestructible. We'll see.

Couper gets toys. Who knew he liked toys. A very interested observer comes over to check things out. "When is it my birthday???", thinks Godiva.

And it goes on and on like this. He gets lots of presents.

The loot. Toys, yummies, and cards. Yes, he got three cards. Nope, he still can't read.

And that's it for a spoiled puppy's birthday. What have we learned? Not much. I guess just that it is good to be a spoiled puppy. Where do we sign up for that gig?

Happy Birthday Couper!!!

2009-10-01T06:00:00.001-07:00

Happy seventh birthday to our site's founder and inspiration, Couper. Applying the seven years rule, he is now unofficially the oldest member of the household. Since he took control of the house years ago, there is little to be added for this honor.

Seven sounds old. It seems like yesterday that he was four. However, he has had a much better six than he had a five. Last year at this time he was coming off a summer of tummy problems and starting to have mysterious yelps whenever his nose was touched. He was sleeping in and not playing like he used to. He took a lot of medicine at five. I was almost ready to concede that he would never be back to his old playing self again. Thankfully the last year has been much better. He is like a puppy again. So, his six was a redo of his five, therefore, now he is six. Let's hope it is as good as his last six.

By the way, if he is six again, that makes me the elder of the house once more (I am not like a puppy again). It's kind of like getting a promotion without a raise. Congratulations to me!

Happy birthday Couper from the Poop!

Lizards, the Suburban Desert Badgers

2009-09-04T22:56:00.009-07:00

Dachshunds are bred to hunt badgers. Their floppy ears and long nose are for finding them. Their long thin bodies and powerful short legs are for tunneling to them. And their intense stubbornness is for fighting them. Living in the suburban desert southwest, we do not have a lot of badgers digging up the landscape. Not to worry, our dachshunds have found a worthy and plentiful alternative. Lizards.

It does not take a long time living in the desert southwest to become acquainted with lizards. They are to the southwest what frogs are to the northeast. They hang out around houses. They eat bugs. They scurry off to wherever they live. After a few sightings, you get over the fact that they look scary, and appreciate having them around. Unless of course, your unofficial job is to protect the house and the people inside it; in that case the lizard suddenly becomes your mortal enemy.

Our two dachshunds have taken fairly different approaches to lizards. Couper will chase them if he sees them. When the lizard gets away, Couper will easily shift back to his primary obsession, playing. Godiva, on the other hand, now has no greater obsession than lizards. It has overtaken stealing socks and biting toes. It sometimes interrupts her desire to eat. Way too often, it interrupts all our desires to sleep.

We are not sure when or how this obsession started. One day she was a normal puppy (well, kind of normal). The next, she was Wile E. Coyote. Somewhere in between she discovered lizards, chased lizards, found that lizards were fun to chase, found that lizards were very difficult to catch, and became amazed that lizards could disappear (escaping up walls or in holes). Suddenly, she went on a perpetual hunt.

She now likes to sit at the sliding glass door in the kitchen, looking out back. All of a sudden, you will hear her squeal. There are two choices, she has to go potty (unlikely) or she has seen a lizard. So, we let her out in the off chance that she has to do business.

Anytime she goes outside now, she sprints to one of the two places she associates with lizards. The first is in the back corner of the back yard. Behind our big mesquite tree, there are some extra tiles for the roof, which the previous owners stacked up and left. In the middle of the stack, there is an opening that a chased lizard must have crawled in once while escaping Godiva. She makes sure to check that gap and both sides of the tiles to make sure that lizard hasn’t come back. When she exhausts that corner, she goes all the way to the other corner of the back yard, which is actually a paved alley between houses which leads to a gate to the driveway. It is essentially where we keep the garbage and recycle cans. Apparently a lizard has escaped from her in the gap under the fence. Only when those two getaway routes have been cased, will she then get to the business of going potty, or just as likely, go inside until she wants to check again…usually 10 minutes later.

This is all well and good, except she has taken it to the next level. Instead of eating, she likes to sit by the door and look for passing lizards. While she stares, and squeals, and scratches on the glass, we have to make sure that Couper does not swoop in for a second helping of dinner. It becomes a little exhausting. However, not nearly as exhausting as when she wakes us up in the middle of the night for lizard patrol. Nothing is more aggravating than having her desperately wake us up, taking her out to go potty, and having her only check her lizard getaway spots. When she is done, she sits calmly on the mat at the door waiting to be let in while we go out of our minds pleading with her to go potty so that we don’t have to go through this again in another 45 minutes.

As for the hunt, when she actually does find a lizard, she has found that they are a formidable foe. They are very quick, very good at changing directions, very small which helps in hiding under things, and can climb higher than a dachshund can reach. Very tough to catch. Almost impossible. Almost.

One Saturday morning I was sleeping in. Godiva, Couper, and Couper/Godiva’s Mommy had gotten up to eat and do whatever it is that people and puppies do on Saturday morning (I have no idea). At one point, I heard a bit of a commotion outside. Couper/Godiva’s Mommy was yelling and there was some clanging. I didn’t hear any ambulances, and the shouting was over in a minute or two, so I rolled over and went back to sleep. When I woke up hours later, Couper/Godiva’s Mommy and I had the following conversation.

Couper/Godiva’s Mommy: Do you know what your daughter did this morning?
Big Buddy: Who? Huh? What?
C/GM: Godiva caught a lizard.
BB: What? Really? Cool.
(I see the look of disgust on Couper/Godiva’s Mommy’s face. I quickly recover)
BB: I mean, oh no, really?
C/GM: She saw one, started chasing it, cornered it, and somehow got it. I saw her running around with it. I started screaming at her to drop it, but she just kept running away. So I got a rake and tried to scare her. I eventually got it out of her mouth, but part of the tail was gone.
BB: Oh, no, that’s horrible. {Oh my god, that is the coolest thing ever. I can’t believe our little Godiva actually caught one of those things. Those are insanely impossible to catch. I wish I could have seen that. I bet it was incredible. Hey, can Couper/Godiva’s Mommy hear this? Of course not! Everyone knows when I put stuff in brackets and italics like this, I am only thinking this…Just have to put on the sad face and not say what I am thinking…which is this is freaking amazing!!!}
C/GM: And the lizard was clearly hurt. I tried to get Godiva away, but she would not go.
BB: Poor lizard. {I knew Godiva was quick, but this is incredible! I mean, I don’t like that the lizard was hurt, but, hey, it knew what it was getting into, coming into Godiva’s back yard. My little Godiva must be some kind of athlete. I am so secretly proud of her. Keep up the sad face thought…no prideful grins}
C/GM: The lizard started climbing the wall, but stopped about two feet up. I had to fight to keep Godiva away, but the lizard was just frozen there.
BB: Lizard must have been hurt or scared. {Damn right it was scared!!! It couldn’t escape from my girl Godiva when it was healthy, what chance does it have now! I wonder if any other dachshunds have ever caught a lizard. I bet Godiva is the first ever. I am so proud of her….must..keep… frowning…}
C/GM: So I had to push the lizard along with the rake until it got over the fence into the neighbor’s side.
BB: You mean the neighbors with the dachshund, puggle, and golden retriever?
C/GM: Yes.
BB: Oh. I’m sure it is fine.
C/GM: Anyhow, it was horrible getting that out of her mouth. Hopefully she didn’t eat the tail.
BB: Bad girl Godiva! {You awesome lizard catching dog} Don’t eat the lizards!

Eventually as time passed, I confessed to Couper/Godiva’s Mommy about how cool I thought it was that Godiva was able to catch the lizard. She decided that since I thought it was so cool, I could get it away from her next time. So, hopefully there will be no next time. Godiva’s proven her point. No need to repeat it. Anyhow, we like lizards. They eat bugs.

In the meantime, catching the lizard has done nothing to quench Godiva’s thirst for the chase. If anything, she is even more obsessed. At least our laundry is safer.

A Day at the Races

2009-07-06T13:39:00.010-07:00

I’ve always wanted to get into professional sports. With limited height, speed, and talent, my dreams of entering as a participant were shot down early. With a limited bankroll and limited earning potential (the Powerball basically, and that won’t cut it either) my dreams of ownership were shot down years ago too. I’ve sized up unborn children, and they do not look promising either. That leaves two options. The first is streaking across a major league baseball field. The second is racing our dogs. Thankfully we have dachshunds and not some non-racing breed like collies or corgis. So, with that in mind, Couper/Godiva’s Mommy and I went to Wiener Mania at Phoenix Greyhound Park this weekend to check out the Dachshund races.

We decided that we were not going to enter Couper or Godiva in the races this year. Having never seen dachshund racing before, we wanted to check it out to see, (1) if we actually wanted to race them in the future, (2) which of our dogs (or both) we might enter in the future, and (3) if this was fun in the sun, or cutthroat competition. Despite the invitation to bring non-participating dachshunds, we went puppy-less so that we could spend our time scouting and not worrying who was pooping where or who was attacking whom.

As we pulled into the greyhound park (by the way, does every city have an ordinance that the greyhound park has to be in the lousy part of town?), we saw a lot of people had brought their dachshunds. Two things were readily apparent. First, these dogs looked like dachshunds, but they were very well behaved. None of the dachshunds were charging people while the sister dachshund was echo barking. This confused and amazed us. The second thing we noticed was how thin these dachshunds were. Every once in a while someone will say to us that Couper or Godiva is getting a little pudgy. We know they are a couple of pounds heavy, but we also are pretty sure they are tweeners, somewhere between a miniature and a full-sized dachshund. However, most of the dachshunds at Wiener Mania were way thinner than either Couper or Godiva. We were not sure if that was because they were trained to race, or if our dogs are just plain heavy. As we found out, these dogs were not trained to race. Couper and Godiva are now on a diet. Kindergarten (for Godiva at least) is also on the to-do list. If nothing else, Wiener Mania made us feel like the worst dachshund parents ever. And, yes, we paid money and gave up a Sunday afternoon to feel bad about ourselves.

The mania began with a dachshund parade on the track. Dachshunds and their owners essentially walked the 50 yards or so that some of them would later race on. It was the cutest thing ever. Many of the dachshunds were dressed up. Dresses, cowboy hats, football jerseys, wigs. I’m not big on dressing dogs, but in this context it was kind of cute. I could see Godiva’s Mommy’s brain spinning out of control picking out Godiva’s wardrobe for next year.

The website that we read prior to going showed 64 dachshunds racing in 8 heats. When we got there, the program showed 96 dachshunds racing in 12 heats. This was good news on two fronts. One, more dachshund racing. Two, a better chance for Couper/Godiva to get in next year. Entry is based on raising funds for the Adopt a Greyhound charity. According to the website, the top 44 fundraisers got guaranteed slots. The next 20 slots were drawn randomly. I am not sure how they got from 64 racers to 96. Maybe there was a massive tie for 44th. Maybe the entrants were so cute, they could not turn them away. Anyhow, we can only hope for 128 participants next year. Fundraising sounds difficult. We want to rely on cute.

A standard greyhound race is 550 yards which is roughly one and a quarter laps (I know this not because I know the first thing about greyhound racing, rather that they have “550 Yards” plastered on the greyhound starting gates – kind of like how things were labeled in the old Batman show – “Bat Computer”). The dachshund course was laid out on what would be the home stretch of the greyhound course. The finish line was the same, I guess so they could use the photo finish technology if needed. About 50 yards away was the starting gate. They used a smaller variation of the greyhound starting gate, with a lever to raise the gates in front for a fair start.

Each dachshund racer had two human team members with it. One person took the dachshund to the starting gate. The other person was positioned on a line drawn about 5 yards behind the finish line. The goal was for the dachshund to run from the person at the gate to the person at the finish line. Just prior to post time, the starting person held the dachshund on top of the gate to find their person at the finish line, each of whom was jumping, waving, and squeezing toys.

Now, in a previous post, I took exception to people who laugh at dachshunds. I still hold firm to those beliefs. However, these races were hilarious. Each heat was the same. Upon lifting the gate, one, at most two, dachshunds took off sprinting towards their person at the finish line. The other six or seven racers meandered out of the gate took a few steps, and then turned looking for their person behind the starting gate. Rarely did any amount of encouragement from the starting person or the finish line person help these dachshunds actually run the race. Keep in mind that the top two places advanced to the semi-finals, so in each race, there was a clear cut winner, and then a significant delay as the other seven racers were wandering around the starting line. After about ten seconds of racelessness, anarchy ruled. The start people would come out from behind the starting gate to move their racer along one way or another. Mostly they ran down the course and if they were lucky, their dachshund followed. The less lucky had to back track and either push or carry their dachshund to the finish line. Clearly our fears of this being cutthroat competition were quelled.

We took in three sets of heats (9 races in all). That, along with the two greyhound races they insisted upon having in between, took two and a half hours. That was more than enough for us to scout and get sun burnt. Total damage for the day: $6 admission, $25 dachshund souvenirs (they saw us coming), $0 gambling losses. I was thinking about wagering on the greyhounds. I figured I would try to pick the first race without actually betting. As they paraded the greyhounds out I chose what looked to be a fine athlete, #3. Strangely, on the board, he seemed to be the longshot. On the front stretch my #3 was looking OK (by the way, the greyhounds chase a mechanical rabbit instead of racing towards their owner – not nearly as fun). The first turn clearly pointed out my puppy’s weakness. He couldn’t corner. As all the other dogs hugged the inside rail, my dog meandered to the outside rail. Race over. He finished dead last. Made Santa’s Little Helper look like Secretariat. In the long run, it was good, because he taught me a valuable lesson: don’t bet money on something you think you might know about, but really don’t have the slightest clue about (though, to my credit, I did say that #4 looked feisty and he wound up winning the race). Or as they say in the mob, “never bet on anything youse don’t know the outcome of beforehand.”

So, other than I should never gamble, what else did we learn?

We should have no problem entering Couper or Godiva in the races. We can’t do any worse than most of the competitors. Well, I guess they could run backwards. Or they could attack somebody. Those might be worse. However, in one of the heats, the winner not only ran to its owner at finish line, he kept going. Not around the track, which would have been cool, but over the outside rail and into the park’s outskirts. It took all of the greyhound stewards to track him down. We certainly can’t do worse than that.

We went into this figuring that Godiva would be our racer next year. She is younger, faster, and would actually run to her mommy. Couper is fast, but would really only run if chasing a ball. We figured throwing a ball was illegal, and, not reading any ruled, we still figure it is as none of the people threw one, and most of dachshunds could have used the help. However, there are a couple of things to consider:

The racers have to wear a racing bib. Godiva hates wearing anything. She still is not thrilled about wearing a collar. When wearing clothes, she practically shuts down. At best she tries to chew herself out of them. We would have to get her used to this or I will have to carry her down the track.
The starting gate. I am 99% sure that Godiva will get freaked out by this. Basically it is a three walled room and then the front wall goes away to start the race. My guess is that most of the dachshunds that meandered around the starting gate were pissed off about the starting gate and looking for the moron who put them in there.
The crowd. Godiva may get freaked out by all the people. She gets freaked out and hides when people she has met come to the house. We are not sure how she will react to hundreds of people laughing. On the other hand, Couper would probably try to take them all on.

I have a theory that we could get Couper to race if we have his mommy at the starting line, and she acted like the person next to her was hurting her. He would race down to attack. Yes, it may cost a few innocent people some blood, but we might win a trophy. It all evens out in the end.

So, we have 11 months or so to train and decided which puppy to take. As you can see from the photo to the right, training is well under way. Look out next May!

Happy Daddy's Day!!!

2009-06-21T11:00:00.007-07:00

Happy Daddy's Day from the Poop!!!

Rather than write myself a self serving, if not well deserved, tribute, I will relate something that happened just yesterday.

Godiva has been very picky about eating recently. We figure it is one of three things: she is tired of what we are feeding her (which, considering what we feed her and that making it is a four step process, she has little to complain about); she is preoccupied with her new obsession, chasing birds and lizards; she isn't feeling good. She has, for the most part, been her usual feisty self, so we think she is OK, but she has been a little bit more cuddly lately.

So to rule out an upset tummy, we decided to try a trick that has worked with Couper. We take two slices of cheese (which either will eat, no matter how bad they feel) and fill it with Fortiflora, which is a pro biotic (think Activia - "I'm Jamie Lee Curtis, the bloating lady" - Hollywood is so cruel to actresses over 50). Anyhow, it works wonders for Couper, so we figured we would try it just in case Godiva was bloating.

The problem yesterday was with the cheese. One of the packages we had was already open and a few days past the expiration date. I opened it and it looked OK. It smelled OK. So, I decided to try one to make sure it was safe. Think about that for a second. I was the royal taster for our dogs. I'm no sociologist, but I am guessing in many other societies (and many families in our society for that matter) that things are the other way around; dogs do the life or death tasting for the humans. Yes, reason 548 that it is good to be our dogs.

Anyhow, Godiva did eventually eat her food. Couper got a nice unexpected treat (make a Fortiflora and Cheese sandwich for one, you make it for all). And we all made it to Daddy's Day, despite the iffy cheese.

Godiva Gets Potty Trained (By Jove, I Think She’s Got It)

2009-05-19T21:28:00.004-07:00

The alleged point of this blog is to document our dogs’ events for future amusement or to use as a learning tool. Say the event is that our puppy is now potty trained. Now say that we got a puppy somewhere down the line (not in the near future, thank you). We could then go back to our blog and find exactly how we accomplished potty training with our previous puppies.

Guess what? You’ll never guess. Not in a million years. Give up? Godiva is potty trained. Unless we ignore her for hours on end, she does all her potties outside now. When she needs to go she either tries to get our attention and/or runs to the back door.

How did we do it?

Well…

/Crickets chirping

Uh, umm, ah…

/Scratches head

I guess it was, nope, wasn’t that…

/Stares blankly into space

I’m not really sure how it happened. It sure was not a planned coherent strategy brilliantly executed. It was likely more a bunch of random crap thrown together that somehow maybe worked. Kind of like Laugh In. So, what is this magical random crap?

Reward the heck out of her: Whenever she did a potty outside, we immediately rewarded her upon going back inside. It sounds like in and of itself, this would work. It might. Except that we made it confusing. Being softies, we also rewarded her if Couper went outside to go potty and she went along. This sounds like the following, “Good boy Couper for going potty outside. Here’s your yummie. Well, you helped Godiva, you get a yummie too”. Strangely, this somehow led Godiva to believe that she deserved a yummie any time that she went outside. Stranger still, she wants to go outside a lot.
“Encourage” her when she went potty inside. By encourage I mean, yell, point, say “bad girl”, stick her nose near the mess.
Take her outside constantly and wait out there until she went potty so that the chances are better that she will go while out there rather than inside.
Put down a pee pad in the kitchen and hope out of pure random luck she goes on it and likes it. This never really worked. She did hit it once or twice. Sometimes she came close. Usually she just chewed up the pad.

This, strangely, is the same way that Couper got potty trained. Amazingly, like Couper, Godiva demands to be watched while going so that she can be rewarded. Don’t normal people just send their dogs out and assume they went? Normal people are strange.

Godiva One Year Later

2009-05-19T21:17:00.005-07:00

As usual, this is late, but on the first of May, Godiva has been with us for a whole year. So what do we know a year later?

We have documented many times on this blog that Godiva is a serial laundry stealer and finger/toe biter. This has not changed one bit. I think she steals laundry because she knows we will chase her, and she loves being chased. She bites fingers/toes for two reasons (other than they are yummy). One, to get attention. Two, when she has to go potty. Which leads to...
We are going to be like the networks on election night and declare her potty trained. All the votes aren't in, but the data is definitely leaning towards it. This deserves and will get its own post.
Couper is getting better with her, but still gets territorial with his mommy and me or his toys. Godiva can be very lovey towards Couper one minute, and then relentlessly chew on him the next. Her new favorite thing to do while Couper and I are cuddling on the sofa watching TV is to creep around the other sofa, poke her head out, and roar like a little Harley at Couper. On cue, he leaps from my lap (which hurts like hell, thank you very much) and chases her around the living room. This is often much more entertaining than what is on TV.
She still sleeps in her crate in the bedroom, but desperately wants to be like Couper and sleep in the bed. This is also a separate post.

Despite only being with us a year, it is hard to remember her not being with us. Sometimes I will talk about something that happened, say, two years ago and I will say something like, "and we brought the puppies, I mean puppy, we only had Couper then."

So, congratulations on making it a year Godiva. If you are good, we might make it two.

Happy Mommy's Day!!!

2009-05-10T19:05:00.004-07:00

Happy Mommy's Day from the Poop! Couper and Godiva want to say thank you to their mommy for all the things she does and all the stuff she puts up with. Sometimes just barely puts up with. She is the nicest dachshund mommy in the whole wide world. They promise, if just for this day, to be good puppies and be super nice to their mommy. As for tomorrow, all bets are off.

DVD Review - Marley and Me

2009-04-03T21:57:00.013-07:00

Marley and Me is the film adaptation of the book by John Grogan about the world’s worst dog starring the blond guy with the distracting nose from Wedding Crashers (Owen Wilson) and the popular girl from Friends (Jennifer Aniston). Owen and Jen (we’re all on a first name basis here) are newspaper writers in Florida who buy a discounted yellow lab as a test to see if they are ready to start a family. As it turns out, they buy the world’s worst dog. Marley cannot be controlled and worse yet, Owen and Jen do not seem to want to control him. Marley fails obedience school and then proceeds to destroy the garage, the living room, wedding rings, and baby sitters. Meanwhile, Owen falls ass backward into a newspaper column, and with nothing else to write about, he writes about his insane dog. He gains enough fame and fortune for Jen to quit her job and start a family. All the while, Marley grows older, but never grows up.

It all sounds like good clean fun, and for the most part, it is. However, I had two problems with the movie:

Problem 1. The ending. The movie is roughly 90 minutes long. Watch about the first hour. More specifically, get to the point where the family moves to Pennsylvania and enjoys their first snow fall. At the end of that scene, grab your DVD remote, click stop, eject the DVD, put it in the case, put the case back in your bookshelf, and enjoy your evening. The rest of the movie is Marley gets old, Marley gets sick, and Marley dies.

We saw this in the theater around Christmas when it came out. My sister and her family, including my 8 year old nephew had been out for the week. Of course my nephew loved playing with Couper (and Godiva too) and of course Couper was having the time of his life playing and didn’t know when to stop. By the end of the week Couper was exhausted. He was also throwing up, had diarrhea, and was very lethargic. We were afraid that he hurt his back and/or was having a re-occurrence of stomach problems that had plagued him the previous summer and fall. He was scheduled to see the vet the morning after we went to the movie. So I was already worried about a vet visit and concerned about Couper getting old and/or being hurt.

Right before the movie, we went to the puppy store in the mall. Being that it was Christmas time, I had been in the mall way too many times in the past month. There was a little male dachshund in the store that Couper’s Mommy and I kept seeing. Usually puppies get bought or cycled out, especially around Christmas, but this one was still there. At four months old, he was starting to get a little old for the store. So, when we stopped in the store that night (by law, we have to stop in the puppy store when we go to the mall), there he was again. We were sad that nobody had picked him up for Christmas. However, on the way out, we noticed that a family had taken our little dachshund out of the window and was playing with him in one of the rooms. We spent the next five minutes talking about how we hoped that family bought him.

So, going into the movie, I was already way too emotional about dogs. Finally, as the movie started I had a horrible thought. I remember having read the book and I thought to myself, “Uh oh, I’m not going to like the ending to this”. When I read the book, I stopped reading a scene beyond where I just told you to stop the movie. In that scene Owen and Marley go for their usual walk, but Marley can’t continue half way through and Owen has to carry Marley home. I was reading the book in a public place, and I knew if I read any further I was going to break down. I closed the book, removed the bookmark, brought it home, put it on the bookshelf, and enjoyed my evening.

In the theater, I began getting ahead of the film. How far are they going to go? This is a family film opening on Christmas; they can’t take the story to the end, right? How am I going to make it through this if they do take it to the end? The opening credits weren’t done, and I was already on the verge of crying.

They took it to the end. And I pretty much didn’t make it through it. The last half hour was among the most excruciating half hours I can remember. And even though I was a mess going into the movie, if you don’t cry at the end of this movie, you likely have no soul. Of course the movie spares no opportunity to make sure you cry. My questions to the producers/directors: Did we have to see the injection? Did we have to see Marley being put in the ground? Did we have to see the kids covering him with dirt? Do you even like dogs? Or your audience?

Problem 2. The plot sounds a little familiar does it not? Replace Owen and Jen with me and Couper’s Mommy. Replace writers with whatever it is we do for a living (I forget sometimes). Replace a yellow lab with two dachshunds. Replace a popular award winning newspaper column with a much neglected blog. Replace failing obedience school with passing puppy kindergarten as the only entrant. It is practically the same thing. I demand retribution for the theft of my story!

The theatrical release of Marley and Me made $215M at the box office. That is not including book sales, DVD releases, cable licensing, Pay Per View, and merchandise. What will we do with all that money? Make a movie of course. Since I am sure our new friends at the movie studios do not want to market a film called Couper’s Poop, so we’ll settle on calling it Couper, Godiva, and Us.

Who will we get to star in this blockbuster?

Couper and Godiva: Couper and Godiva. Yes, we are making screen stars out of our puppies. More money in our pockets. Hollywood will have to work their CGI magic to make them puppies. We are not splitting our piece of the pie with high priced doggie actors. Need more money to make it work, sue Grogan again.

Couper’s Mommy: Jennifer Aniston. I know, she played the similar role in Marley and Me. However, Couper’s Mommy likes Jennifer Aniston. I also envision that Jen is at the phase of her career where she plays a string of roles as the girlfriend/wife dog owner; just with different breeds each time.

For fun, let’s fast forward to the red carpet at the 2012 Oscars. Jen and her date Bubbles the Chimp has an accidental meeting with Brad and Angie. I think it goes something like this:

Jen: Excuse me. Oh, hello Brad. Hello Angelina.
Brad: Hi Jen
Angie: Hello Jennifer. Whatever are you doing here?
Jen: I am presenting this year. Best Director for an Animated Short…
Angie: Thanks for asking. Yes I was nominated again. Best Lead Actress for my work in Friends The Movie. I play Rachel Green. The critics adored me...said I brought depth and complexity to a previously dull one-dimensional character. Brad! Eyes front and center! I am the only starlet on the carpet! That Miley Cirus is barely legal! Anyhow, Jennifer, are you still working?
Jen: Um, yes. I just wrapped a movie where I play the wife of a Corgi owner called Corky and I. I start filming a movie next month where I am the wife of a Shih tzu owner called Shitzy and Myself.
Angie: Yes, my dress is stunning, thanks for noticing. It is a…Brad!!! Stop ogling that slut Jessica Alba! She is nothing but a home wrecker!!!
Jen: Yeah, uh, good luck…

Big Buddy: The late Bert Convey. Hollywood is going to have to work its magic again, but really there was nobody as versatile as the underrated Convey. In the 1970s and 80s if you needed someone to play the bad guy on Charlie’s Angels, you called Bert Convey. If were the producers of the Love Boat and you needed a swinging bachelor who had to decide which Landers sister to marry, you called Bert Convey. If you needed somebody to tell a few jokes and belt out a song or two on the Dinah Shore Show, you called Bert Convey. If you needed someone to wear a bad sweater and trade yucks with Dom Deluise on Win Lose or Draw, you called Bert Convey. So in 2010, if you need somebody who can play the owner of two dachshunds, you dig up the late Bert Convey.

We may not actually get such great actors for our film, but no matter what, our film will end better than Marley and Me.

Side Note 1: Couper turned out to be fine. Turns out he was just exhausted and a little dehydrated. Just for good measure, on the morning we were to go to the vet, Godiva had the worst looking diarrhea I ever saw. It was like eight colors. Given all the unknowns that she chews on and eats (pretty much anything she can get her jowls around), it is amazing she does not have diarrhea more often. So, we figured while we were going to the vet, we would bring her along too. She was fine as well. However, her poop cost us an extra $100. Nice timing Godiva!

Side Note 2: The next time we went to the puppy store at the mall, our dachshund puppy was gone. We are sticking with the theory that the family that looked at him that night bought him.

Side Note 3: The only other time I cried openly at the movies also involved my sister. She took me to Snoopy Come Home when I was 6 years old. The plot essentially is that Snoopy is called back by his previous owner, a little girl who is in the hospital. Charlie Brown and the gang have a big farewell party for Snoopy and all the characters start bawling. I completely lost it. My sister had to take me out to the lobby to settle me down. I probably should not be allowed to go to dog movies. The only time I remember weeping after a movie was when I saw Cocktail, and the theater manager would not give me my $5 back.

Side Note 4: This review is based solely on the theatrical release of the movie. I have no plans on getting the DVD. I am fairly certain that I will not be getting it as a present. The DVD may have fun extras or a “Family Cut” or whatever they do to DVDs. I don’t know and will not find out.

Happy 1st Birthday Godiva!!!

2009-03-11T09:00:00.001-07:00

One year ago today, God was taking it easy, when the following thought came to him:

You know, there's just not enough mischief in the world today. I don't mean evil mischief or idiots blowing crap up. I know there is more than enough of that stupidity. In fact, I really should get going fixing all that. No, I mean old fashioned honest to goodness fun mischief. Like stealing socks and running around with them. Or chewing things you're not supposed to chew. That kind of mischief. And only a special kind of creature can pull off such fun mischief without it crossing the line to bad mischief. That creature has to be the cutest creature in the whole world. Hey, look, there is a piebald miniature dachshund about to be born down there in Arizona. Her name shall eventually be Godiva and I shall give her the gift of fun mischief. Nobody could ever stay mad at her.

And so, Godiva was born. And try as she may, no matter how much laundry, or worse, that she steals, we can't stay mad at her.

Happy first birthday Godiva from Daddy (Big Buddy), Godiva/Couper's Mommy, and yes, even Couper.

(As it happens, I had to be out of town all week...it is the saddest I have ever been. Even sadder than that time that I ... uh oh, I am quoting The Family Guy... we may have a new saddest ever)

Daddy, I’m a Big Girl Now

2009-02-23T21:28:00.004-07:00

Godiva is done with puppy food and for some reason, I am desperately sad about it. Probably because it came too soon, in a couple of ways.

We were prepared to stop giving her puppy food after her first birthday in March. She was running out of her puppy food last week, so I went to the puppy food store for a final bag. However, they were out of the small bags of her food. All they had was a giant bag that would have lasted her until she was two and a half. The store clerk convinced me that 11 months is fine to make the full transition to adult food. So, I bought another bag of Couper’s food and headed home.

It isn’t as if she has not had Couper’s food before. From the first day we had her, she has tried to sneak over to his bowl to steal his food. I am not sure if that is because she preferred his food, or she just likes to steal stuff (like socks for instance). Just in case she preferred it, we always sprinkled just a little of his food in with her food. I am not going to miss getting two dog food bins out at feeding times, or buying different bags of dog food at different times at the puppy food store.

So why is this sad? Puppy food was the last connection we had to Godiva as a puppy. She is almost as big as Couper. She has been fixed. She is potty trained. She actually goes into her kennel when asked. She destroys things less frequently. Yes, she does steal socks and bite hands as always, but she will grow out of that as well.

There were many times during her puppyhood that we could not wait for her to grow up. Now that she has, we miss it. We reminisce about how little she was when we got her. We now laugh about her screaming in the middle of the night those first few weeks. It makes no sense. And now her puppyhood has ended a month too early.

But before she thinks she all grown up, she should know this: Couper is 6 years old, and we still call him our puppy.

Puppy Bowl V

2009-01-31T20:56:00.005-07:00

Once again we here at the Poop encourage you to watch the big game on Sunday. Of course we are referring to Puppy Bowl V on Animal Planet.

And as with last year, we are disappointed that there are no dachshunds among the participants. However, unlike last year, we have a puppy dachshund this year. Yes, at almost 11 months, she is much older than the other participants (they seem about 10 weeks old), but who knows when this was taped.

Since nobody called, let's see how Godiva would have stacked up to Puppy Bowl standards:

Cuter than Cute: Check
Run around like a nut: Yes
Provoke other dogs: Yes and how
Play in the water bowl (filmed by the legendary water bowl cam): Whenever possible
Poop and/or Pee indiscriminately: Yes, especially indoors and on carpet (especially when 10 weeks old).
Tear toys apart: Yes, a specialty
Relentless (won't start something, get scared, and hide in a corner): Yes

So, clearly Godiva would have been an ideal Puppy Bowl player. It is Animal Planets' loss that they did not call.

As for the other game on Sunday, what should our puppies have been invited to play with the hometown Cardinals?

Well, Couper is a natural receiver. There is nothing he likes better than chasing thrown balls. Sometimes Godiva will line up opposite Couper just like a cornerback on a receiver. No matter that Godiva may have the speed advantage, Couper uses his strength and desire to get the ball (often while being interfered with - Godiva is not big on rules).

So, obviously Godiva would not be a cornerback. Her best position would probably be running back. She is great at taking an object, running with it, and eluding people wanting to take the object away. Usually that object is a sock, but the coaching staff could convince her that she is not allowed to have the ball. On the down side, she does not always run forward.

Unfortunately, neither Couper or Godiva were called to play in that game either. The Cards will have to make due with Larry Fitzgerald and Edgerrin James. Good luck with that. It's probably just as well. I would cringe at the Steelers hitting my little buddies.

Happy (Chinese) New Year from the Poop!

2009-01-26T18:54:00.006-07:00

Happy (Chinese) New Year from the Poop!

Yes, we missed the Gregorian New Year, but not because of laziness or anything. Nope, not even close. We are contractually only able to issue one New Years post per year and this Chinese New Year is the Year of the Ox. It does not take too much of a stretch (or typo) to make the Year of the Ox into the Year of the Dox. And from there you add an "ie" and it is suddenly the Year of the Doxie. And we here at the Poop can get behind that (much better than getting behind an ox - literally and figuratively). Last year was the year of the Rat, so we chose to celebrate the Gregorian New Year. See, it all works out one way or another.

So our (Chinese) New Years resolution is to post more to the Poop. We are hoping that we can take a few more minutes from taking care of the puppies (or in other words, making sure they are not destroying the house) to be able to write about them.

Presidential Puppy

2009-01-19T21:53:00.000-07:00

Apparently there was an election in the US a couple of months ago. Being that it is football season, I had no idea. I was supposed to vote for something other than the Miller Light Player of the Game??? Anyhow, it seems the chap who won the presidency publicly promised his daughters that he would get them a puppy.

Since that pronouncement a lot of dachshund sites have been openly campaigning for President-elect Obama (I’m not making that up, that’s his actual name), to choose a dachshund (apparently there are allergy issues that might prevent that, but I have had dog allergies before, and I have had no problems with dachshunds – therefore, we are going to eliminate that as an issue). I love dachshunds. I have two dachshunds myself. I would not trade my dachshunds for all the money in the world.

President-elect Obama, I implore you, do not get a dachshund!!!

It isn’t political. And sure, it would be fun to see dachshunds in the limelight. However, the last time I checked the Constitution of the United States of America, the President has numerous important responsibilities. From experience, I know of the time and attention it takes to own a dachshund. The two are not a good mix.

Consider these potential headlines:

President Obama late to State of the Union Address; Chasing puppy who stole his sock around White House residence
Oval Office carpet chewed to shreds by President’s puppy
President Obama to puppy at 2AM on White House lawn: “Would you pee already? I am the Commander-in-Chief and I command you to pee!”
President Obama gets crucial 3AM wake-up call; Puppy wants to play
Vice President Biden to undergo shoulder surgery; Job throwing ball for President’s puppy too much for 66 year old arm
President Obama begins 2 week journey to Europe, Asia; Puppy mopes, stands guard at White House door
Russian President Putin’s ankles mauled by White House puppy at start of summit; “I heard the barking at the door, but went in anyhow”
President Obama takes no action on Farm Bill; “The puppy ate it. Honest”
President Obama skips G8 summit; Has to take puppy to the vet.
First Lady to Prez: “Quit signing bills! Make the puppy its dinner!”
President’s press conference drowned out by barking puppy
State Dinner ruined when President’s puppy poops on floor; French Prime Minister hospitalized after fainting into soup
Presidential puppy chews open nuclear briefcase; President Obama issues apology to what remains of Albania.

Sure, any of these things could happen if he gets another breed of dog. Since I know nothing of other breeds of dog, I cannot be sure. But I am 100% positive that each and every one of the headlines above would absolutely become true if he got a dachshund puppy. So, please Mr. Obama, I beg you, do not get a dachshund puppy.

Think of the country. Think of Albania.

The Dachshund Who (Almost) Stole Christmas

2008-12-31T19:04:00.003-07:00

Godiva’s favorite thing in the whole wide world is to take stuff that she is not allowed to have, and get chased around the house until she has to give it up. She likes that better than chewing human hands. She likes that better than eating bird poop or mesquite pods. She even likes that better than yummies. Now, I know that we are not supposed to chase her and pry the stolen object from her mouth – we are supposed to provide an alternative, wait for her to drop the stolen goods, and praise the daylight out of her – but since she also likes to chew, she is just as happy chewing the stolen item as she is chewing our approved alternative. Her favorite things to steal are socks, slippers, shoes, blankets, dryer sheets, and towels. Any laundry really will do.

(Side Note: One Sunday Godiva was a little tired or under the weather. I had my laundry on a pile on the bed and was putting stuff away. Godiva slowly climbed the stairs to the bed, walked over to the laundry pile, dug around, found a sock, and began very slowly pulling it out. All the while she was looking at me like, “Daddy, look, I’m stealing your sock. Please stop me, because I don’t have the energy to run around with it. But if you are going to leave a pile of laundry within reach, I have to do what I have to do.” She repeated this three times until I had everything put away.)

So, it was with great trepidation that Couper/Godiva’s Mommy and I brought out the Christmas decorations after Thanksgiving. We have had our bouts with Couper and Christmas decorations in the past. We have two footless gingerbread men ornaments to remind us. With Godiva’s energy and passion for mischief, we were sure that we would be rescuing her from under a fallen tree at some point.

Since penning Godiva in the kitchen for the month of December was not an option, though it was discussed, we had to have a plan. We decided to spray her with the water bottle if she even went near the tree. That seemed to work. She is at the point now that whenever she wanders that way, a stern, “Godiva! No!”, causes her to scurry away. So far we have no ornaments lost and the tree skirt is right where it is supposed to be.

We were less attentive to other Christmas items, and Godiva has taken full advantage. We have a tall thin glass table that backs up to one of our sofas. During the year, we have a few picture frames on it (yes, with pictures in them, possibly of people we know or relatives, not just the picture included with the frame – I don’t really know). Since this faces out to our front door, it is a great place to put Christmas decorations. Couper/Godiva’s Mommy put a set of eight hand-sized stuffed bears on the table sitting against the back of the sofa. Seemed like a good place for them. Godiva sure liked it. Anytime she got more than three seconds unattended in the living room, she jumped on the sofa, stood on her hind legs to peer over the sofa, picked out a bear (any bear is fine with her), jumped down off the sofa, and was off to the races. One day, knowing that she was going to attempt this upon letting her out to the living room, I stood in front of the table, looking stern, arms crossed, as a deterrent. She hopped up in front of me and grabbed a bear before I could say anything. She is that quick (and/or I am that slow). And stealing is only half the fun. Catching her is a challenge if Couper/Godiva’s Mommy and I can double team her, and almost impossible alone. I try to recruit Couper, but unless she has stolen one of his toys, he isn’t interested.

And the bears are only part of it. She takes stuff from the coffee table and will hop up on any chair if there is something worth taking. We have a cabinet a few feet behind our other sofa, where we have many other decorations and stuffed animals. Godiva climbs to the back of that sofa and stretches as far off the back as she can as she plots how she can make the three foot jump to get to those treasures. Thankfully, she has yet to figure out how to do that. December is less than half over though.

So after a few weeks, we gave up and moved the bears to higher ground (the table she was plotting leaping onto – maybe not our best idea, she had the taste of bear and wanted more). We also made sure to have our spray bottle handy to try to deter any other mischief.

It took us until right before Christmas to brave putting presents under the tree (procrastination in shopping and wrapping helped as well). Gift bag tissues would be enough to make Godiva forget all about little stuffed bears. She never really got the chance. At that point, we were able to keep her penned in the kitchen or heavily guarded near the living room. Couper blew his one chance for freedom when he ripped apart gift bag tissue when left alone – the penalty: three days of close company with his little sister.

December is almost over now, and we will soon be putting away the decorations. For the puppies, it can’t happen soon enough. They will finally get another 11 months of freedom. Godiva will have to settle for stealing socks instead of bears.

Belated Merry Christmas from the Poop!

Pilgrim or Indian?

2008-11-25T19:54:00.006-07:00

I have a theory about Thanksgiving. Every Thanksgiving people make the conscious or sub-conscious decision to be either a Pilgrim or an Indian. A Pilgrim is defined as wearing dark colors, like, say black. An Indian is defined by wearing bright colors, say red or yellow. Being that it is my theory, I make the conscious decision to be a Pilgrim. It is just easier for me to wear black (no buckles on my hat, though. I have to draw the line somewhere). Despite telling Couper/Godiva's Mommy about this every year, she forgets and usually makes the sub-conscious decision to be an Indian. Now that you know about this theory, you have no excuse but to make a conscious decision on Thanksgiving morning. Sorry, it is the price of knowledge.

What does this have to do with our puppies? Let's illustrate the theory:

Pilgrim

Indian

As always, we implore you, please do not let your Little Buddies dress up like turkeys this week. It may look cute, but it could be very hazardous to their health.

At this time of year, I always remember what my Uncle George always said: "May your Thanksgiving be full of Butterball turkeys and devoid of jive turkeys." Makes you think about what's important, doesn't it?

Happy Thanksgiving from the Poop.

It's a Thin Line Between Being an Angel and a Devil

2008-10-31T21:33:00.007-07:00

One minute you think you are an angel (or a devil)...

...the next minute the roles reverse.

Yes, we did go to Petsmart today to buy the puppies outfits. We were tired of the court jester collar that Couper has worn the last 4 years. Besides we "needed" an outfit for Godiva. Thankfully the Halloween outfits were marked half off already. They needed the space for their Christmas displays which now only take up 30% of the store.

But that is not the worst part. Not even close. See, we also bought a Halloween costume for our lifesize dachshund figurine (yes, we have one of those - doesn't everybody?). She stood guard by the door...

I have this uneasy feeling that the CEO of Petsmart has us tracked electronically and anytime we walk into one of his stores, he has his butler bring him a lobster and a bottle of Dom Perignon.

Happy Halloweiner from the Poop.

Make A Run For The Border

2008-10-19T12:15:00.005-07:00

One of the advantages of having dachshunds is that they cannot reach any food in the kitchen that we don’t drop on the floor. My sister has labs and if food isn’t put on the back edge of the counter or the very middle of her island, it is in serious danger. Try as he may, and he does, Couper cannot jump up to our counter or island to snatch the leftover chicken. We know that he is not adverse to taking a sip of beer or milk when he can get it off the coffee table.

Our weak link is the kitchen table. The dogs cannot reach the kitchen table on their own, of course, but the chairs are certainly doable and they could reach from there. To our knowledge, they have never tried this. We like to think it is because our puppies are well behaved and would never go somewhere they knew they didn’t belong. More likely it is because the chairs are swivel chairs and they somehow decided that the dangers of jumping on them outweigh the rewards of what is on the table.

Until recently.

A day before Couper’s sixth birthday, Couper’s Mommy brought home a taco and a bean burrito from Taco Bell for lunch. She sat down at the kitchen table and had just finished her taco, when she got a call. She left the table for only a minute to look something up on the computer. When she returned, she found Couper, back paws on the chair, front paws on the table, helping himself to the remnants of her taco; some lettuce, some sour cream, some taco sauce, maybe some meat – the normal outflow from a Taco Bell taco. Upon seeing this, Couper’s Mommy shooed him off the chair. The bean burrito sat there untouched.

It is impossible to tell what got into Couper's head. Maybe he had been planning this for years and with the wisdom and athleticism of turning six, finally figured out how to get onto the swivel chair without killing himself. Maybe he has practiced jumping on the chair before, without our noticing. Maybe the lure of Taco Bell was just too much and he went for it.

However, if you work in the Taco Bell marketing department two things should be apparent:

Now that Chihuahuas have gone big time with a movie and all, maybe it is time for a dachshund to be the spokesdog of Taco Bell. Couper is available and his salary demands are reasonable.
Bean burritos must be awful. That a hungry dog, taking a chance on injuring himself and getting in big trouble, would rather eat taco remnants than a full bean burrito is not a good sign. Your only hope is that my Little Buddy is his Big Buddy’s Little Buddy. I wouldn’t eat a bean burrito on a bet. Maybe he hopped up there and asked himself, “What would my Big Buddy do?” (If Couper does get the Taco Bell spokesgig, we will spin this differently – “Taco Bell: Our taco fixins are great”. “Taco Bell: Bean burritos; door stops or caulk – you decide”.)

In the end, even though Couper has had tummy troubles lately, he did not get the runs from his little adventure. We have learned that we have to pay more attention to what we leave on the kitchen table, especially since we have since replaced our swiveling kitchen chairs with much more dachshund-jumping-friendly four legged chairs. Finally, we learned that bean burritos are safe around dachshunds and likely deadly for anybody else. I’ll take the chalupa.

Fixed??? I Didn’t Even Know She Was Broken

2008-10-17T23:40:00.015-07:00

Godiva got spayed last Wednesday. We knew this day was coming from the day we got her. All along I figured it was no big deal; that when the day came, we would just take her to the vet, get it done, and go on with life. I figured it would be easy for me because Godiva is a female dog. I would not have the cringing that a male has when a male dog gets fixed.

It turned out to not be that easy.

We got Couper at 11 months. One of his two previous owners had the good grace to have him fixed. Never having had a dog prior to Couper, I have not had to deal with this issue until now.

My first shock about all this is how young puppies can be when they get fixed. I never really thought about this before. Godiva just turned six months old. If you apply the 7:1 dog to human years ratio, she is 3 and a half in human years. Maybe it is just me, but 3 and a half seems a bit young to be worrying about reproductive issues. It was only a couple of months ago she started walking without falling down. It seems like a day and a half ago.

I also began thinking that maybe Godiva should have puppies. She is a beautiful dog and apparently has some championship lineage. Every once in a while when she sits, her posture and attitude looks like a show dog (this may only be through a daddy’s eyes, I have no idea what makes up a show dog – I assume not biting the judge’s fingers would be one criteria). We are way too lazy busy to show her, but maybe somebody who got her offspring could. She has papers (not AKC, as they do not recognize piebalds), maybe it could happen. At the very least, she would have tremendously cute puppies.

Finally, this is major surgery. I don’t want to go into details, but it certainly is not “snip snip”, like with a male dog (cringe). The old joke, “What’s the definition of minor surgery? Surgery that happens to other people”, also applies to other people’s dogs.

However, after doing research, spaying seems like a good idea:

Females also tend to be better pets if they do not experience oestrus every six-to-nine months. Heat cycles bring hormonal changes that can lead to personality changes, and oestrus females must be confined to prevent unwanted pregnancies. Repeated heat cycles may subject the reproductive system to uterine and mammary cancers as they age. Some bitches experience false pregnancies that can be a bother to deal with and uterine infections that can be fatal.

We certainly do not want our little puppy having personality changes due to going into heat every six months. It sounds like PMS on steroids. We sure don’t need any more of that around the house. (Couper’s Mommy just hit me. I’m lucky it wasn’t her oestrus, it could have been much much worse).

(Completely unrelated side note:

With today’s overuse of the word, one sometimes forgets that a female dog is called a bitch. When I first read this article, I snickered, “Huh huh, he said ‘bitch’”. I actually looked to see if the article was written by 50 Cent. But once I got used to the fact that the author was using the word in its proper context, it reminded me of one of my favorite Simpsons scenes:

The family is driving home from church/Sunday School:

Marge: So, what did you children learn about today?
Bart: Hell.
Homer: Bart!
Bart: But that's what we learned about. I sure as HELL can't tell you we learned about HELL unless I say HELL, can't I?
Homer: Well, the lad has a point.
Bart: Hell, yes!
Marge: Bart!
Bart: [singing] Hell, Hell, Hell, Hell, ...
Marge: Bart, you're no longer in Sunday School. Don't swear.

Yes, I use any excuse I can to throw in gratuitous Simpsons quotes).

I also love this quote from another spaying information site:

Veterinary medical scientists are working to develop a "pill" or some other convenient method of birth control for pets. There are now several medications on the market that can be used temporarily to keep an animal out of heat.

At present, other than confining your animal, the sure way to keep your pet from mating is to have it surgically neutered.

Our little Godiva barely listens to us when we tell her not to chew the furniture, or our socks, or rip apart baskets, she sure isn’t going to listen to us if we sit down and have a little talk about the birds and the bees; especially if she is in heat. So in the end, for your dog, sex education and birth control do not work; it is the permanent chastity belt or puppies.

So in the end, even though I was a little sad about it, I accepted that having the surgery is best for Godiva (and for us - we're not only too lazy to show dogs, we are too lazy to breed them as well). The surgery went well and she recovered quickly. So, for all you male dogs out there, our little girl is officially off the market. Go howl elsewhere.

Happy Birthday Couper!!!

2008-10-01T06:00:00.001-07:00

The Poop wishes its inspiration and founder, Couper, a very happy sixth birthday!!!

How do we celebrate Couper’s birthday?

We play, and have presents, and eat yummies, and have special dinner, and have cake, and have a parade…

Pretty much the same things we do every day, except there’s cake.

Some people have a birthday weekend. If you are lucky, you may have a birthday week. Since Couper’s birthday is the first day of the month, Couper gets a whole birthday month. If it were up to me, he would have a whole birthday year. Nobody deserves it more.

Happy Birthday from Big Buddy, Couper's Mommy, and Godiva!

Couper Celebrates 5 Years in Our Household…Godiva Celebrates 6 Months on Earth.

2008-09-19T23:09:00.017-07:00

It is the ultimate irony that the reason we do not write more about our dachshunds is that we spend all our waking, non-working hours chasing dachshunds (some of our sleeping, non-working hours as well). It is difficult to sit down and write when you are constantly interrupted by getting a toy out of whatever jam it was put in, or saving a blanket from sure destruction, or wondering if endless floor sniffing is curiosity or potty time. And that is our “good” dog; the one who graduated kindergarten. The puppy is constant mischief.

So time has passed and we neglected to mark two very important dates (Neglected is probably the wrong word. Kind of like saying that the people of Houston neglected to mow their lawns last week. They would have, but they were busy saving themselves and their houses. And, yes, I am comparing Couper and Godiva to a hurricane).

On September 6, Couper celebrated his 5th anniversary in our household. On September 6, 2003, Couper’s Mommy-to-be got a phone call from a colleague saying, “Take this dog or he’s going to the pound” (someday I am going to write this story in full…I may need to sedate the dogs for a weekend). It hasn’t always been easy, but he has been our Little Buddy ever since. We often wonder what would have happened had they taken Couper (then named Frank) to the pound. He is the cutest damn thing, but also the barkiest. We assume that the Humane Society workers would have figured out that playing is the key to his happiness and would have given potential adopters a toy to calm him. However, with a room full of barking dogs, who knows. So, every year in and around his adoption anniversary, we make a donation in Couper’s honor to the local Humane Society. (At right, the earliest digital photo we have of Couper. Why didn't we have a digital camera back then???).

It is hard to imagine that Couper has been with us for five years, but on the other hand, it is hard to remember what life was like before he arrived. I think we had a lot less dachshund stuff. And squeaky toys. And dog beds. And dog treats. For a free dog, he sure has been expensive.

On September 11, Godiva celebrated her 6 month birthday (Like they always say, you can't pick your half-birthday; Couper's is April 1). Rumor has it that Godiva was scheduled to be born on St.

Patrick’s Day, but on March 11th her birth mommy said, “What is this thing constantly nipping at my insides?!?” and demanded to have labor induced. Godiva has grown a lot in the 4 and a half months we have had her. She is almost Couper’s size. Growing up is another matter. She is still all puppy – and all dachshund. She is getting better with her potties, but if she is not making mischief right now, give her a second or two. And now with her increased size and strength, she is nearly impossible to catch without help. With some luck, we may be able to snare the sock or shoe she is running around with. (At right, Godiva with her litter-mate sister).

So, happy anniversary Couper and happy half-birthday Godiva. Maybe next year, you will give me the time to write these up when they happen. I won’t count on it.

Happy Labor Day From The Poop

2008-08-29T21:09:00.007-07:00

Whether your labor is digging

or just playing ball

relax and have a happy and safe Labor Day!

Going For Gold

2008-08-18T21:40:00.015-07:00

America is caught up in Olympic fever. How do I know that? TV ratings? Public opinion polls? Nope. Our local NBC affiliate keeps telling us so. I see no reason for them to lie to us, so it must be true. As with all fevers, I have prescribed myself bed rest and plenty of fluids.

So, before the fever breaks, I thought it would be fun, and completely original, to figure out in which Olympic events Couper and Godiva could compete, you know, if they weren’t dogs.

Let’s break down their athletic scouting report:

Both: As dachshunds they are short legged, low to the ground and diggers by nature (though only Godiva shows any actual interest in digging). They have strong upper bodies and are surprisingly fast. They have no hands/fingers.

Couper: Much stronger than Godiva and faster than her in a straight line (especially when chasing a ball). Has back issues, which could limit his strength and endurance. Great ball catching and control skills, though he is reluctant to pass at times. Is advancing in athletic age, but his lifetime of playing experience makes him a smart competitor.

Godiva: Young and small. Tireless. Fearless. Very inexperienced. Has not yet learned ball skills. Just recently learned to walk without falling down. Fast, especially when cornering. Loves to bite things. Has not yet reached her athletic peak.

Conclusions:
We can eliminate a lot of events right off the bat:

Their lack of hands and fingers really eliminates a lot of events. Handball by definition is clearly out. They cannot pick up or use racquets, paddles, guns, bows, epees, foils, sabres, bats, oars, poles, batons, javelins, discuses, shot puts, sticks, or barbells.

Even though catching is discouraged in volleyball, their lack of height and short limbs become real disadvantages. Same problem for boxing; opponents may not be able to catch them, but they have no reach to hit back at all.

We know all about Air Bud’s exploits in basketball, but that was against kids, not NBA/WNBA caliber players. Anyhow, Couper and Godiva are even shorter than Air Bud, a definite problem. Even though Snoopy pioneered playing shortstop using only his mouth, something I truly believe Couper could match, this is Cuba and Japan we are playing, not Peppermint Patty and Marcie. You have to be able to hit at this level.

They are way too short to ride a bike. They cannot ride a horse, though that would be cute. They do not sail, though maybe they could sit at the bow and sniff out whales.

Swimming is going to be difficult. Couper has been in a real pool and can comfortably swim about the length of you to your computer screen. Anything more risks drowning. If there was a 50mm freestyle event, he would have a shot. A 50cm freestyle event might be trouble. Godiva loves water, but so far she has only stepped foot in a baby pool and her water bowl.

Godiva is about the actual size and weight of female gymnasts, but really the only tumbling she does is more accurately called falling down.

You can also forget them pairing up in anything containing the words “doubles” or “synchronized”. I can barely get them to sit together for a decent picture, let alone work together as a tightly coordinated team.

Couper
Soccer: Someday I am going to write the story of how we got Couper and we will all learn that Couper’s soccer skills are what allowed him to join the family. He has only gotten better in the years since. His ability to control the ball with his nose and chest are amazing. He also can turn with the ball at almost full speed. His anguished grunts while dribbling are going to keep away all but the bravest defenders. Yes, technically when he hits the ball with his shoulder, that is a hands ball violation, but a little creative refereeing in soccer seems to happen from time to time. And yes, he is short and possibly limited in situations like corner kicks, but you wouldn’t want to be jumping when a little dachshund could potentially undercut you. “Hey Beckham, watch out below. Wouldn’t want you to fall on that pretty-boy face of yours.”

Alternate:
Rowing: We already covered his limitation in holding an oar, however he potentially could be good at being the guy in the front of the boat who screams (barks) at the rowers (I am sure there are rowing terms for “guy in the front of the boat”, boat, oar, scream, and rowers, but do we really care?). Put Couper in a boat facing a bunch of people, and he will undoubtedly bark. It may not be in rhythm and the boat may wind up going in circles, but it is the chance you take. The other problem is he may start barking at the competitors’ boats. Or birds. Or fans. But bark he will.

Godiva
200m dash, maybe 400m dash if she has the stamina: Her speed and ability to corner make these events perfect for Godiva. It would be much better if the corners were not so far apart. She would really excel in something along the lines of short track speed skating on dry land – lap after lap of tightly cornered mayhem.

Alternate:
Springboard Diving: She gets no height and has little grace, but she really likes diving into water, be it in pools or drinking bowls. The event organizers would just need a big net to fish her out of the pool after each dive.

Alternate 2:
Wrestling: Watching Godiva take down Couper, who is definitely outside her weight class, is impressive. We would have to find out which of Greco-Roman or Freestyle allows biting (one would suspect Freestyle, no?), as that is one of her biggest weapons. Maybe she just forgets the Olympics and turns pro as biting is no doubt encouraged in the WWE.

So watch out world. Couper and Godiva are getting ready for London in 2012. It's just as well that they wait four years. I do not think that London will have to put out an edict to stop putting dog on the menu. Though what is in Shepard's Pie is anybody's guess.

Happy Birthday Couper/Godiva's Mommy!!!

2008-07-25T00:01:00.002-07:00

Today is Couper and Godiva's Mommy's birthday. Shown above are Couper and Godiva staring lovingly at their mommy. Making its Poop debut is the top inner half of Couper/Godiva's Mommy's right foot. It was the only photo we got legal authorization to run.

Thanks to the Freedom of Information Act, The Poop was able to obtain this transcript of Couper/Godiva's Mommy in fourth grade show and tell:

Teacher: Waaa Waa Waaa Wa Waaa Waaaaa
Couper/Godiva's Mommy: When I grow up, I want to have two dachshunds. Maybe someday, part of my right foot will be famous on the internet. The end.
Teacher: Waaa Waa Waaa Wa Waaa Waaaaa

Happy Birthday to Couper/Godiva's Mommy! We are proud to help make all of her dreams come true!

TV Review – Greatest American Dog

2008-07-14T18:06:00.013-07:00

Occasionally here at the Poop, we review TV shows so that you have time to walk your little buddies. (Why aren’t we walking our little buddies? It is 110 degrees outside. They will be walked again in October.) Today’s show: Greatest American Dog which premiered Thursday on CBS (check local listings for the time and channel in your area).

The first big problem with Greatest American Dog is the title. Twelve dogs, along with their owners, were selected to compete in Greatest American Dog, and not one of them is my dog.

You: Yeah, you’re right, they didn’t select my dog.
Me: No, not your dog, my dog.
You: Yeah, my dog.
Me: No, when I said “my dog”, I meant my “my dog”, not your “my dog”.
You: No, you said “my dog”. My dog is “my dog”.
Me: “My dog” is my dog. I wrote it.
You: Well now I am reading it and “my dog” is my dog.
Me: My dog is Couper. He should be the Greatest American Dog!
You: No! My dog is (whoever) . He/she is the Greatest American Dog!!
Me: You’re a moron!
You: Yeah, you’re a moron!

And so it goes. The point is everybody thinks his/her dog is the Greatest American Dog. If you don’t, your dog should be taken away from you, you do not deserve one. (For the record, Godiva will qualify for Greatest American Dog when she stops pooping in the house and chewing my hand – don’t take her away!). The show really should be called Greatest American Dog of These Twelve or Second Greatest American Dog, After Yours (Mine).

The second big problem with Greatest American Dog is the dogs. Among the twelve contestants, there are no dachshunds. What, were they afraid that the most aggressive breed of dog would beat down the other dogs? If nothing else, that would make the show more interesting. And as we ramble on, you will see that this show needs all the interesting it can find.

The show starts with us meeting the contestants and their owners. I refuse to learn any of the names of the owners, names of the dogs, or the breeds of the dogs because I don’t care (this is the same attitude I took for the shows Friends, Starsky and Hutch, and Kate and Alley – why bother learning the characters names). We learn why each of the owners thinks that his or her dog is America’s Greatest. Most of them talked about bonding or being family or being a best friend or knowing a trick. Only one came to the table with the dog doing something heroic (saving his wife’s life). Worse yet, almost all of the dogs owned by women, and a couple owned by men, were dressed in people clothes. One woman (name definitely not to be learned) makes sure that her dog wears an outfit to match hers every day. We then see a shot of her at her sewing machine making that dog’s clothes for the day. Maybe what makes that dog special is that he is keeping his owner out of the psychiatric ward. At the very least the dog is keeping her off the streets and in the sewing room.

The dogs and the owners arrive in the classic one-by-one reality show style at the K-9 mansion where they will be staying together during the competition. The mansion is the most impressive part of the show. First off it is huge. It makes the old Clampett mansion on the Beverly Hillbillies look like it belongs in East LA (the Compton Clampetts???). It has a giant yard where the bushes are all cut to look like dogs or fire hydrants. The inside is filled with dog furniture and people furniture that looks like dog furniture (a dog bone coffee table). As I told Couper/Godiva’s Mommy that someday we should have a house like that, the excitement of dreaming of a mansion like that, and the fear that I would actually have it decorated that way left her speechless.

The first competition for Greatest American Dog was musical chairs. Same game you played at your 5th birthday party, but the dogs were ushered along by their owners and had to sit on a platform. You could tell that even the producers found this boring when after the second round they started removing two platforms each time. I am looking forward to next week, where maybe the dogs will play Duck Duck Goose. This week’s winner (dog and owner unknown) got to stay in the Doggie Suite, which is a giant room even more obnoxiously dog themed. He also got to pick someone (dog and owner unknown) to stay in the Dog House (big dog house with sleeping bags) out in the yard.

In the elimination competition the dogs/owners formed groups of four to put on a doggie/human talent show. I won’t even attempt to describe the shows. My time would be better spent looking up a more powerful word for god-awful. Unfortunately, I am too lazy to do that, so god-awful it shall be.

The talent show was judged by three people who I don’t know and I don’t care to remember. As decreed by the Treaty of Paris at the end of the American Revolution, one of the judges was British. I believe the treaty, signed in 1783, looked like this:

Article 1: His Brittanic Majesty acknowledges the said United States, viz., New Hampshire, Massachusetts Bay, Rhode Island and Providence Plantations, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina and Georgia, to be free sovereign and independent states, that he treats with them as such, and for himself, his heirs, and successors, relinquishes all claims to the government, propriety, and territorial rights of the same and every part thereof.

Articles 2-10: Blah, blah, blah (paraphrasing)

Article 11: In all future United States national competitions, at least one of the three judges must be a British subject. Said judge(s) will be deemed the “nasty judge(s)” and shall have jurisdiction to demean and humiliate the American competitors regardless of any current or future rule of law.

I am not saying that the British judge on Greatest American Dog was any Simon, hell, I refuse to even remember her name, but there was a lot to criticize anyhow. By the way, does it bother anybody else that America’s Got Talent has two British judges (or that the third is Hasslehoff?). Is this some kind of loophole in the Treaty of Paris that is keeping “America’s greatest talent competition” tied to British interests?

Back to Greatest American Dog, it turns out that the judges have the power to vote off one contestant. This may have been the most disappointing part of the show for me. I was really hoping that we, the American people would get to choose the Greatest American Dog. Isn’t that what this country was founded on? Do I have to quote the Constitution now? Besides, I was hoping for a way that I could write-in (call-in???) our dog, Couper, and make this competition live-up to its name. I guess that isn’t going to happen. The dream is over. The bad guys and dogs win. See if I vote for anything the rest of the year. Anyhow, the anonymous judges voted off the anonymous owner (well deserved) and his anonymous dog (victim of circumstance - I think they actually voted off the owner). The losers took a lap around the stage and left our lives forever.

All of which brings us to two crucial questions:

Could our dog (our “our dog” – Couper) actually win Greatest American Dog? Probably not. There is no way he would have made it through the first round of musical chairs. He would have had no interest in sitting on a platform when there were other dogs and people to bark at. And neither of us would have been good at the talent show, unless we could integrate him wildly knocking a soccer ball around (maybe that would impress the British judge?). In the end though, we know he is the Greatest American Dog. Why? It says so, right here on the internet.

Will we watch? Probably. We do like dogs and it has the added benefit of us thinking (knowing) our dogs (not your dogs) are better than those dogs. Hopefully though the producers will work the eliminations like they did the musical chairs and start getting rid of multiple dogs at a time. I am not sure I can take 10 more weeks of this.

On a much more positive note, and because this post is nowhere near long enough, there is a show that is fun for dog owners. It is called The Baby Borrowers (Wednesday, NBC – check local listings). The premise is great. They take teen couples who are thinking about having babies, move them into houses on a cul-de-sac, and give them babies. Not sacks of flour posing as babies. Actual human babies.

Now, the producers of this show go to great lengths to keep the show from crossing that fine line from edutainment to child abuse. The babies’ parents are allowed to monitor everything from another house and there is an in-house nanny who can act in case of emergencies – say if the teens put the baby in the dryer or something. However, as a new puppy owners, we wonder why they would go through the troubles and potential lawsuits when they could just go to the pound and get the teen couples a puppy – better yet, a dachshund puppy. Want the teens to experience screaming in the middle of the night? Check. Peeing and pooping anytime anyplace? Check. Teething? Check. Running around with no particular place to go? Check. Trying to get it to eat? Check.

I guess it is more powerful to show the teens with an actual baby and NBC has the power and money to make all parties “disappear” if a disaster happens (evidence? When’s the last time you saw Martha Stewart?). However, if an institution with a little less money, say, a high school, wanted to prove to potential parents that babies are difficult, they could go the puppy route. Last I checked, puppies poop and scream more than bags of flour.

The best part about the Baby Borrowers for us is that Godiva had her best night in the house when we watched the show. We teamed up to watch her every move and kept her out of mischief. When she started sniffing, we scooped her up and hustled her outside to go potty. We made sure she did not torment Couper (or vice versa) too much. It was as if we were being challenged by the teens on the show and we made sure to outdo them. On the other hand, when we watched Greatest American Dog, Godiva peed twice in the house. Maybe she didn’t like not being in the competition either.

That’s Right, We Bad!

2008-07-10T17:40:00.009-07:00

Hey, you, walking down the street. See this dachshund over here? His name is Couper. You best stay away from him, ‘cause if you look at him wrong, he will kill you five times before you hit the ground. Is that a Rottweiler you are walking with? So what. See this other dachshund? Her name is Godiva. She has chunks of dogs like him in her stool.

Yup, we’ve adopted a new attitude here at the Poop. Seems that a study found that dachshunds are the most aggressive breed of dog. Other dachshund outlets are outraged at the news. Not here at the Poop. We are embracing our new #1 status.

Take that Pit Bulls. Go cower in a corner somewhere. Better yet, go in the kitchen and bake us a pie!

The study was done by the University of Pennsylvania and can be accessed for a fee. Thankfully, our friends at Discovery have summarized it for us. I will summarize the summarization:

Chihuahuas and Dachshunds scored higher than average for aggression directed to both humans and dogs, putting them towards the top of the list.

"There is some evidence that smaller breeds are more often the targets of aggression by other dogs," she added, "and small breeds, particularly Dachshunds, are more prone to injury due to rough handling by children, so this form of aggression among small breeds may be a learned response due to negative past experiences."

Of our two dachshunds, Couper does kind of fit the aggressive description. He is extremely protective and possibly would bite a person or dog thinking he was protecting his Mommy or Big Buddy. On the few opportunities he has had to be close enough to bite someone while being protective, he never has. And despite taking on bigger dogs in barking contests, he makes sure to hurry along on our walk the second he thinks the big dog may actually be heading towards him. On the other hand, he has lightly bitten both his mommy and me once. On each occasion it was when we were reaching for him when he was in a confined space and he was scared. It was stupid on our part and he reacted like a dog would.

Couper of course loses all aggression if you just hand him a toy. He goes from aggressive to pest ("Throw it again. Throw it again!!!"). I am not sure where that falls in the study.

Though Godiva likes to nibble on us and Couper, she is very good with other people and dogs. She has been great in Petsmart and was great when manhandled by her little human nieces (can little nieces manhandle? Kid handle? Let’s just say Godiva was not handled with kid gloves). Hopefully she is going to grow out of her nibbling stage (soon please!). At this point in her young life she is scared of her own shadow and of loud noises. One such noise is Couper’s barking. Rather than join in with him, she runs away. Hopefully she keeps a little of that. At this point aggression is not our biggest worry with her.

As far as other dachshunds we know, none is aggressive. In fact Couper and Godiva’s cousin Frankie is the mellowest dog I ever met. All he wants out of life is for his belly to be rubbed – all the time. When you stop rubbing his belly, he looks at you sadly, tries to get the rubbing going again, and failing that, falls asleep. If he weren’t almost 30 pounds, I would question if he had ever bitten his dinner, let alone a person or dog.

Strangely the reaction that we get from people when we walk our dachshund(s) isn’t that they are aggressive, it is that they are funny. “Look at the wiener dog!” “Wow, he’s a feisty little one, isn’t he cute, ha ha ha!!!” I understand it to a certain degree. I forget how small Couper is sometimes. One day I was driving home and saw Couper’s Mommy walking Couper. I was amazed from a different perspective not only how small he is but how fast his little legs pump to keep up on a walk. I kind of cracked up, just like people passing us in a car often do. One day I was walking Couper and we were coming up on a house where a dad was throwing a football with his kid. I was using my best Kindergarten training to keep Couper in line. We were about a house away from them when the father saw us and started laughing. He said to his son, “Hey, look, a wiener dog” and kept laughing. As we got to the house, he asked, “How old is your wiener dog?” I replied, “Five.” He said, “Really, five?” and started laughing again. To this day, I have no idea what his problem was. Maybe it was a Butthead moment (huh huh, he’s walking his wiener), but he really did not look the type. All I know was to him, Couper and I were hilarious. (I found it funny his 10 year old son couldn’t catch a pass; I stayed silent).

That was then. Now we have a new attitude:

What do you mean I'm funny? What do you mean; you mean the way I walk? What? Funny how? You mean, let me understand this cause, ya know maybe it's me, I'm a little (bleep)ed up maybe, but I'm funny how, I mean funny like I'm a clown, I amuse you? I make you laugh, I'm here to (bleep)in' amuse you? What do you mean funny, funny how? How am I funny? No, no, I don't know, you said it. How do I know? You said I'm funny. How the (bleep) am I funny, what the (bleep) is so funny about me? Tell me, tell me what's funny!

So the next time you see a dachshund, you better show some respect. Now that we have gotten to number 1, we have no intentions of giving it up.

Hey, next door neighbors with one dachshund. Nice try, but our two will destroy your one not to mention your retriever and your puggle. You other next door neighbors with no dachshunds? You better run while you have the chance. We are now the dominant force on the block. In fact, we might get one more dachshund and rule the neighborhood. Maybe another after that and take over the nation. Five, and we could rule the world!!!

Happy 4th of July From The Poop

2008-07-04T11:03:00.007-07:00

Happy Fourth of July from the Poop!

Yes, Couper and Godiva, in the picture above, are looking at the flag, not begging for a yummy.

The Poop's Fourth of July tip:

If you are grilling today and maybe have had a Sam Adams or two and you pick up a hot dog that has legs, stop before you put it on the grill, it may be your dachshund. If it is not your dachshund, you either have a bad hot dog or have had a few too many Sam Adams.

Also, the Poop wishes our friends north of the border a belated Happy Canada Day. Unlike the US, Canada did not have the cajones to rid themselves of Great Britain once and for all on Canada Day as we did on Independence day, however, we honor Canada today for their fine contributions of hockey, beer, the McKenzie Brothers, and Pamela Anderson. (What, you thought you were getting a Pam Anderson picture?)

Party on North America!

Godiva - I'm a Big Girl Now

2008-06-27T23:47:00.008-07:00

The first and third photos are Godiva in the beginning of May - the second and fourth at the end of June. There is no doubt she is still a puppy, but she has really grown in the last 8 weeks. The stubby little puppy snout has grown out along with the rest of her. She is now 15 weeks old and 7.5 pounds. She has gained a pound and a half every three weeks. At this rate she will be a Great Dane by Thanksgiving (don't hold me to the math).

Couper and Godiva: One Month Or So Later

2008-06-23T14:50:00.015-07:00

Sorry for the lack of posts. We have been exhausted. Couper/Godiva’s Mommy used to go to the puppy store and pine for all the puppies. Now she goes just to warn people to look past the cuteness and envision the hard work and lack of sleep. She is a week or two of sleepless nights away from standing outside the puppy store wearing a sandwich board that reads, “The End is Near!”

Godiva is getting better at sleeping. She does not wake up screaming every hour to hour and a half like she did the first week or two. Sometimes, if we wear her out enough, she even sleeps through the night. But usually there is screaming once, maybe twice, during the night. Not to mention the knack of wanting to get up a half hour before our alarms go off. We have tried a couple of things to get her to sleep. The biggest was having her sleep a soft kennel in the bedroom to make her feel more like part of the family. In actuality what this accomplished is moving her screaming closer to the rest of the family. This may not have been my best idea. As mentioned the only effective way to get her to sleep is to wear her out. Having her run around and not nap is the best option.

However…

When Godiva is sleeping, she is not biting. And when she is awake, all she does is bite. And getting bitten gets old very quickly. We understand she is teething. We have bought numerous toys, nylabones, and chew sticks to help her along. However, given the choice between, say, a rope, and the hand that gives her the rope, she wants to chew the hand every time. I guess I would too. Even though I know where my hand has been (and it isn’t good), I really have no interest in chewing a rope either. However, I seem to remember an old saying about biting the hand that feeds you. I think the saying advised against it. The strangest part is that the hands that feed her are the only human hands she seems to want to bite. She doesn’t bite the vet or the nurses at the vet. She doesn’t bite the kids who want to pet her when we go for walks (by the way, she is the Anti-Couper on walks, she loves attention while Couper goes crazy-go-nuts and has to be pulled away). She doesn’t nibble on guests to the house. Nope, she likes to eat her mommy and me. We have tried all the prescribed methods. Give her something she is allowed to chew; ignore her when she bites, act like it hurts and scream “Ow!!!” (Sometimes acting is not necessary, it really does hurt. Her little teeth are getting big). None of them have completely worked, but she is slowly getting a slightly better.

However…

Her favorite thing to chew is Couper. More than us. More than rugs. More than baskets. Certainly more than ropes. Needless to say, this is not Couper’s favorite thing. He is less tolerant of her biting than we are. This leads to epic battles. She runs up to him and nibbles. He growls, she persists. He nudges her, she persists. He pushes her down, she gets up and (you guessed it) persists. He pushes her down, holds her down, and nibbles back; she surrenders, thinks about it for two seconds, hops back up, charges at him, and nibbles away like nothing happened. She also has a maneuver we like to call the torpedo. Couper will be standing outside minding his own business. Godiva will get into a deep crouch about 10 yards away. All of a sudden she shoots up and sprints towards Couper, barreling into his side at full speed. It reminds me of the old Mutual of Omaha Wild Kingdom show:

Marlin Perkins: While Jim is out tracking the cheetah as it stalks, lies in wait, sprints, and attacks the wildebeest, I will be back at the camp having a martini and getting a massage from the girls from the local village.

The torpedo used to be cuter when she was littler, but now it makes a sound somewhat like a linebacker hitting a quarterback. Of course after the torpedo hit, wrestling ensues. We are not sure what to make of all of it. Sometimes we think the two of them are playing. Sometimes I think I am on the verge of sharing a cell with Michael Vick. Neither of them has hurt one another, yet. Somewhere between the biting and wrestling, there is a chase, Couper chasing her, or more fun, Godiva chasing him. We know Couper likes chase the puppy, so maybe this is all good. But all through their interactions, Couper is groaning and whining. He otherwise only does that when he sticks his toy somewhere and then can’t get it out. In that case, he is playing, but he also is annoyed.

However…

If he really wanted her to leave him alone he would bark at her. The one thing that Godiva is really afraid of is loud noise. If she is outside and a Harley rumbles by, she stops what she is doing, and bolts for the door. If Couper starts barking at the neighbors, she bolts to the door. Remember the Cosby Show when Rudy and her friends would make a big mess, the chubby kid would take off for the door? That’s Godiva, but on the outside wanting in. And a lot less chubby. Anyhow, if there is one thing that we know Couper can do, it is bark. There have been a couple of occasions when she has been in attack mode where he has gotten pissed off, barked at her, and she backed off. If he really wanted her to leave him alone more often, I can’t believe he has not learned that lesson. Even Couper/Godiva’s Mommy and I have learned to bark loudly at her if we want her to back off.

However…

Couper will bark at Godiva like he means it in two instances. The first is he is playing with a toy (and usually his Big Buddy) and she tries to get the toy. Playing is his number one passion, so this is not surprising. The second, amazingly, is when she tries to steal his food. Couper has always been pretty nonchalant about his food, even though he is fed like a king. He sometimes has gone a day without eating his regular food, though he will eat yummies and is not sick. Godiva on the other hand loves Couper’s food. And it isn’t like she is being fed gruel or worse yet, Krusty Brand Immitation Gruel. We did a lot of research at the dog food store to pick out a puppy food just for her. Because we know she likes Couper’s food, we mix in a couple of nuggets of that along with a tiny amount Couper’s Born to be Wild supplement. So at dinnertime, Couper gets his food first. Instead of dawdling, like he used to do, he digs right in, because Godiva is right there eyeing his bowl. To get her away, we put down her dinner around the corner of the kitchen island from where Couper is. She picks out his food, the Born to be Wild, and some of her food. As soon as she gets tired of what’s left, she decides it is time for more of Couper’s food, from his bowl. She will try to sneak the around the island from his front side, but he will growl her off. Undeterred, she then goes the back way around the island. Couper, being a sloppy eater, will usually have a kernel or two of his food on the ground next to his bowl. If we can’t stop her first (and we do try), she swoops in, picks up the kernel or two from the floor, and takes off to eat them in relative safety back at her bowl. She then tries for round two, but without the food on the ground, Couper will bark her away. In the end, Couper has learned to eat quickly and to guard his bowl, though when he is done and walks away, she swoops in to lick whatever crumbs may be left. At least we know what we will feed Godiva when she grows out of puppy food.

However…

We are still not sure where she will deposit it. Potty training is still a work in progress. Sometimes we think she gets it. She will wait by the door; go out, do business, then want to come in for yummies. Then thirty minutes later, she will pee on the carpet. No indications of wanting to go out. No hour between going. Squat and go. So between random potties and biting Couper, she will get gated off into the tiled kitchen, or the kitchen and the tiled hallway. Because Couper would rather not be bitten, he in effect gets gated off to the rest of the house. This was not exactly what we had in mind, and it confuses Couper and Godiva, but it helps keep our sanity when we cannot watch them both. If Godiva is a good girl, and has done all her potty, and both Couper/Godiva’s Mommy and I are there to even the numbers, we will let her in the living room to run around with Couper. When the biting begins it is back to the kitchen. If the potty signs emerge, we all go outside. It isn’t great, but it is the best that we have figured out so far.

However…

We’re hoping it will all work out. We would not trade Godiva for anything and we have a new appreciation for what a good boy Couper has become. We’ve come a long way since Couper started Kindergarten and even since Godiva joined us seven weeks ago. In time Godiva is going to realize what a good gig she has. And I am sure that in time we will look back on Godiva’s early puppyhood with fondness (that’s why we have the blog, to set the record straight).

However...

And on Daddy's/Big Buddy's Day we got a miracle. They were both good and good to each other. Godiva was a cuddle puppy and Couper was tolerant of his little sister. It was the greatest Daddy's/Big Buddy's day present ever (though the iTunes card and the Dachshund stuff was great). One would hope it would last forever. It lasted until Monday. Miracles are fleeting.

Update:
Since this was written, one of Couper/Godiva's Mommy's friend and collegaue saw Couper and Godiva in action. Owning two dachshunds herself, she assured us that their behavior was normal, that they were just playing, and it was all good. We're going to take her word on it. We almost have to.

Happy Big Buddy's Day from the Poop!

2008-06-15T07:00:00.006-07:00

Happy Big Buddy's Day from the Poop! Especially to those Big Buddies with two Little Buddies, one of which is a little screaming puppy who likes to wake up in the middle of the night and likes to bite everything. Or to those Big Buddies with an older Little Buddy who growls at his little sister, likes to bark at everything, and plays every waking minute of the day. But despite all that they are the luckiest Big Buddies in the whole wide world. Yes, a very happy Big Buddy's day to those Big Buddies!

What the heck happened to Memorial Day?!?

2008-06-10T21:49:00.003-07:00

Actual mail from an actual reader. If it wasn’t could I do this?

Hey, knuckleheads! Whatever happened to “Happy Memorial Day From the Poop”? You’ve had all the other holidays. I waited all weekend for the go-ahead to have a happy Memorial Day and since it never came, I had a crappy Memorial Day. I mean how much effort is it to post that tired picture of Couper asleep with the beer toy and type, “Happy Memorial Day from the Poop”??? You wouldn’t even have to say something nice about the troops. I mean it’s not like we’re at war or anything. Oh, yeah, we are. Pinko Commie Imbeciles.

Rich Feder,
Fort Lee, NJ

Mr. Feder, for a guy from New Jersey, you sure do ask a lot of questions. You are right about us forgetting Memorial Day. A couple of weeks ago I was in the computer room, thinking about writing the Memorial Day post when Couper walked in to play. He had been sleeping all day, so I figured I had better give him some attention. I threw the Mr. Hiney a few times when he started coughing really bad. Then all of a sudden, he throws up all over the floor. And not just a regular throw up, but a three thrust throw up. It was disgusting. After getting a roll of paper towels, I looked down at the gooey pile of puke and what did I see? Two little stuffed turtle feet that Couper had chewed off a toy over a week and a half earlier. It had been sitting there in his stomach for two weeks and now it was sitting in a pile of vomit on the floor. It was gross! I thought I was gonna die! I looked at Couper and said, “Hey, Couper, what are you trying to do, make me sick or something?” Huh? What does this have to do with Memorial Day? Well it just goes to show you it’s always something. If it's not one thing, it's another. If you aren’t writing a blog post wishing everyone a happy Memorial Day, you are on the floor scooping up dog vomit containing two week old stuffed turtle feet with paper towels. It’s like my father, Big Big Buddy, always told me, “make sure you write your Memorial Day post early, because you never know what might come out of your dog while playing with his Mr. Hiney”

Happy belated Memorial Day from the Poop. You can always remember those who served in June too.

(Instead of the tired picture of Couper with the toy beer, here is a picture of Couper dropping a Mr. Hiney from the top of a beer cooler)
(And yes, Couper really did throw up two stuffed turtle feet.)

(Thanks to Dave and Gilda for the material)

(The word "actual" in the first sentence of this post actually mean "made up")

The Name Game

2008-06-02T20:38:00.009-07:00

Up until we got Godiva, names at Couper’s house had been fairly simple. Couper’s Mommy decided upon getting Couper that she would be Mommy. For whatever reason, I started calling Couper, “Little Buddy”. I am not sure how that started, much less endured. Even I felt uncomfortable that “Little Buddy” is what Skipper nicknamed Gilligan on Gilligan’s Island. After calling Couper that 15,000 times, and not having seen Gilligan’s Island in years, the discomfort eventually wore off. So, there were two logical choices for me to be called: Beavis or Butthead. Oops, wrong story, I meant: Daddy or Big Buddy. I never quite understood why Couper’s Mommy wanted to be called “Mommy”. She was clearly not Couper’s birth mother. They aren’t even the same species. But it was what she wanted to be called so I never said anything about it. I went the other direction and evolved into Big Buddy. Couper’s Mommy and I were not living together at the time, so I was more like a buddy that Couper visited all the time. Couper and I were (and still are) playmates first. So Little Buddy had a Big Buddy. I call him Little Buddy most of the time and he really only knows me as Big Buddy (“Couper, go to Big Buddy”).

When we started talking about getting a girl puppy, Couper’s Mommy would talk about getting Couper a “girlfriend”. I had two problems with that. First, Couper is fixed, so he probably was not looking for a relationship. Secondly, I knew Couper’s Mommy would also be Mommy to the new puppy. Since we do not live in 1930’s Appalachia, it is socially unacceptable to be boyfriend and girlfriend and share a mommy. We had a little chat about that and decided that Couper would instead get a little sister.

So we did get a little sister and her name is Godiva. Our naming scheme fell into disarray.

Couper’s Mommy is still Mommy around the house. However, on the blog she is now Couper/Godiva’s Mommy, which is only fair to both Couper and Godiva. I thought about her being Couper’s Mommy if Couper messed up and Godiva’s Mommy if Godiva messed up, but not only is that confusing to you the reader, but inaccurate because as Couper/Godiva’s Mommy often points out to me, “When they mess up, they are your dogs.” Couper/Godiva’s Mommy is a bit much to type, and you may ask yourself, “why not just call her by her real name?”, but her actual name is much too long as well and the authorities are cluing into Google.

As for the dogs, Godiva is Godiva and Couper is Couper. However, the Little Buddy is now a Big Brother to his Little Sister. He is also the Little Buddy to his Big Buddy. Couper has also been through the years: Little Bud, Little Boo, Little Friend, and Little ‘Noop Dog. That is to say that he is “Little”. So if I say to him, “Go get your Little Sister”, he looks at me like, “Go get myself??? OK. Here I am. Done”. This is also difficult from a phonics perspective. After years of “Big B” being followed by “uddy”, saying “Big Brother”, especially at 2:30AM, is difficult. “Godiva, follow your Big Buddy, I mean Little Brother, I mean Big Brother”. The fact that Godiva is quite a bit smaller than Couper makes the modifier “Little” seem like it should apply to her in all names, but it can’t because it is Couper’s and as we have found out the last few weeks, Couper does not like giving up what is his. And no, Godiva does not yet have a sustained nickname although “Princess” and “Piranha” have come up a few times.

The biggest change is for Big Buddy. When I got home on Godiva’s first day at the house, Couper’s Mommy said to her, “Godiva, say ‘hi’ to your daddy”. I did a double take, looking for either a male dog or the milkman. The next couple of times Couper’s Mommy referenced “Daddy”, I realized, (1) I was daddy and (2) this was going to persist. We hadn’t talked of this beforehand, nor have we really talked about it since. I’m kind of taking it as “You will have responsibility in raising this puppy and not just be the good-time partner-in-crime while I do all the discipline; like with the last one!” It is Lifetime Movie 101. I haven’t complained. I realize I am much more part of the problem than the solution with Couper. He’s my first dog and gets the benefits of that. So I have to grow up and be Daddy to the second dog. As time goes on I less and less hear the hackneyed phrase “Who’s your daddy” in my head when I am called that. The most confused is Couper who will now hear from Couper’s Mommy, “Go get your daddy”. (Insert your own inappropriate joke here).

So the family is now: Couper/Godiva’s Mommy; Godiva, Little Sister; Couper, Little Buddy, Big Brother; Big Buddy, Couper/Godiva’s Daddy. But if you meet me on the street or here on the blog, I am still Big Buddy. Or Butthead.

Happy Mommy's Day From The Poop

2008-05-11T06:00:00.000-07:00

The Poop would like to wish all Dachshund mommies a happy Mommy's Day. Make sure to have the Big Buddy of the house do all the dachshund chores today (and only today! Knowing that Couper/Godiva's Mommy may not read this until Wednesday, I feel pretty confident promising that.).

Couper and Godiva each gave me a little something to say to their mommy for Mommy's Day.

Couper: Thank you mommy for sticking with me all these years. I know I can be a handful sometimes, but without you, who knows where I would be. I know I growl at you sometimes, but only because I want you to stay with me all the time. You are the bestest mommy in the whole wide world!!! Happy Mommy's Day!!!

Godiva: Thanks for picking me out mommy. I like my new home! I like that you get up at 2:30 every night to take care of me. I hope you do that for me forever! Happy Mommy's day!!!

Well, that was mushy, but I guess we can make an exception for Mommy's Day.

A Buddy Weekend

2008-05-11T00:41:00.011-07:00

(Editor's Note: This article was written a few weeks ago and purposely held as a tribute to Couper's Mommy on Mommy's Day. Since then, we unexpectedly got Godiva. Please do not worry that she is not in the article. She is fine, the article is old)

Couper’s Mommy took last Friday off and went jet-setting for the weekend, so for the first time in a long time, it was a Buddy Weekend at Couper’s house. It had been over a year since Couper’s Mommy went on an extended jet-set, so I envisioned she would come home to find us passed out on the floor amid empty beer cans, poker chips, and yummies while three TVs blared basketball, Baywatch, and the Dog Whisperer. In other words, we would be wiped out from having too much buddy fun. I guess I forgot what it is really like when Couper’s Mommy leaves.

Couper’s Mommy jetted-off on Thursday, so Couper and I would have to delay our weekend fun. On Thursday afternoon it was business as usual; I got home, we did our potties outside (well, Couper did), we had yummies, and I got changed. It was right then, that I first noticed the impact of Couper’s Mommy absence. I had to figure out dinner on my own. Three and a half hours later, after Couper and I had both eaten, Couper was starting to realize that his mommy wasn’t home. Couper is very particular and likes things to be just right; and his mommy being gone at this time of night was certainly not right. So he stacked two pillows on the sofa nearest the front door, laid down, and waited for her to come home; almost like a nervous father waiting for his teenage daughter to come home from a date. Barky under normal circumstances, when he is on-guard waiting for his mommy, anything, or nothing, will set him off.

The barking is not limited to his couch vigil. Essentially when Couper’s Mommy goes jet setting there is no sleeping that first night. When we went to bed, I could feel and hear Couper snarling every couple of seconds. When he heard night sounds, he went into all out barking. You can count on being woken up by barking at least twice the first night, and he delivered around midnight and 1:30AM. You can also pretty much count on a very early morning potty call, which is really an excuse to patrol the backyard for the scoundrels who must have taken his mommy (why else would she leave her wonderful puppy???). He executed this move around 3AM.

As the alarm went off early Friday morning, I begrudgingly got up; nothing unusual there. In the past couple of months we have had a pretty consistent weekday morning routine.

Couper pops out of bed, finds a toy and starts playing with me as I am laboring out of bed. Couper’s Mommy heads toward the kitchen.
Couper and I continue playing as I go potty (indoors). (This is one of Couper’s favorite places to play. I was warned not to let him get away with that. Too late.)
I take him through the kitchen to the back door and let him out to go #1.
He comes back in and his mommy gives him his breakfast as I go back to the bedroom to get ready for work.
Couper’s Mommy takes him out to go #2.
Couper comes back to play with me as I am getting out of the shower and getting dressed.
Couper plays with me as I eat breakfast prepared by Couper’s Mommy.
I leave for work.
Couper’s Mommy takes him out to go #1, puts him in his kennel, and leaves for work.

We have this down to a science and essentially time our morning to it. However, last Friday morning, I realized that a crucial element of the plan was missing, Couper’s Mommy. Knowing that having Couper making his and my breakfast would be a disaster, I figured those jobs were mine. I could have let him out to go potty by himself, but that always turns into a bark-fest. Anyhow, he likes for somebody to go out with him, so that he gets the proper credit (a yummie) for having gone. Friday, I was that somebody for all potties. Couper has been very good about going in his kennel when we want him to, but he sure was not going to do that by himself. That task became mine as well.

Arriving home Friday night, I was exhausted. Couper and I played a little, had dinner, and went for a walk. We vegged on the sofa for a while watching TV, but never did get to much Buddy fun. Around 9PM, Couper decided that it was time for bed, which for him means that a human goes to bed with him. When his mommy is home, he often gets his wish and goes to bed at 9. As tired as I was, I had no intention of going to bed at 9PM on a Friday. When we were in the living room watching TV, Couper slept on my leg, and every 20 minutes would look up with tired puppy eyes saying, “Are we going to bed now, Big Buddy?!?” If I was in the computer room, he would nap on the couch (still keeping vigil) and every 20 minutes come in with the same tired-eyed look for me. Finally, the cutely pathetic nagging was too much, I gave in and we went to bed. At least this time he was too tired to bark in the middle of the night.

Saturday was a very lazy day. When Couper’s Mommy is gone, Couper is much less playful. He plays outside for a while, but really wants to be inside just in case his mommy comes to her senses and comes home. If he is not sleeping, he is either on-guard or mopey. He also likes to make sure that I am always in his sights. It is better yet if he can lie or sit on me to make sure that I don’t leave and get lost like his mommy must have. For a little dog who usually triples the energy in the room, he can suck all the energy out when things are not just right.

By the time Sunday morning rolled around, I had not said the word “mommy” in any context for 24 hours. If Couper hears a name and has any sense that person is arriving, he will do nothing but run from door to door barking. It is almost as if he is trying to signal, “This is where you are supposed to be mommy, in here!!! Just follow the ‘woof’!!!” So we were quietly outside going potty (Couper only), when the back door slid open and Couper’s Mommy, fresh from jetting-in, said, “Hi Little Buddy!” As Couper sprinted to greet her, I thought of my expectation of the moment vs. the reality. Instead of Couper and I passed out in a pile of our partying, we were awake, doing normal stuff, with a (relatively) clean house. Couper repeatedly jumped all over his mommy. He really missed her. I did too. The next time Couper’s Mommy goes jet-setting, I hope she takes us too.

Into The Ears of Babes

2008-05-07T20:34:00.007-07:00

Between Couper/Godiva's Mommy's frantic Google searches for countries that do not allow dachshunds and their immigration policies, I was able to get a little computer time and found this article from How Stuff Works called "How many words do dogs know"

Sure, most dogs understand the basics --"fetch," "sit" and "stay." But if you have the motivation and patience, you will probably be able to teach your dog even more than 100 words. Stanley Coren, a psychologist who has performed a significant amount of research on the subject of dog intelligence, suggests that average trained dogs know about 160 words [source: Coren]. Some dogs even show a vocabulary as vast as a human toddler's.

We did a post earlier about words that Couper knows. Due to time constraints (a.k.a. pure laziness) it was far from comprehensive, but showed that we are well on our way to 100 words with Couper.

English knowledge has come into sharp contrast this last week with Godiva entering our lives. All of a sudden, it seems like Couper has a Masters Degree in English (minus the inevitable post graduate job selling coffee at Borders - hey, that's not a half bad idea, what does that pay anyhow?). It is suddenly amazing how many words Couper knows that Godiva doesn't. And it is not like Couper has been subscribing to the Merriam-Webster Word of the Day this last week.

Well, we think Godiva has learned her first word. I was hoping for two words actually, "inside/outside" - as in "let's go outside and go potty" and "good girl going potty, let's go inside and watch TV". I have been emphasizing the words as we go in or out. She no more knows those words than she knows "truculent" or "quixotic" (recent words of the day - as if I know what they mean either). And no, it does not seem that she knows potty, or pee-pee, or poopie, or hiney, though I am sure she will in no time. Nope, her first word is more primal than even those.

(Godiva sits in the living room doing whatever she is doing with her 0.6 second attention span)
Big Buddy: Godiva, want a yummie?
(Godiva races into the kitchen and sits down)

Yup, she is her big brother's little sister. Here's guessing the next word she learns is "Mr. Hiney".

Happy Sixo de Mayo From The Poop!

2008-05-06T10:00:00.000-07:00

Happy Sixo de Mayo from the Poop! Anyone can celebrate Cinco de Mayo. It takes true Dachshund spirit to celebrate Sixo de Mayo.

In the name of responsiblility, we are not allowing Godiva to play with the Buddyweiser toy until she is 3.

Loose Ends From a Busy Weekend

2008-05-05T21:30:00.001-07:00

The weekend is over, and we are all exhausted, especially Couper/Godiva's Mommy. We are grateful to get back to work so that we can get some sleep.

We got Couper when he was 11 months. Couper's Mommy has had experience with little puppies, but I have not, so this has been quite the weekend for me. I went through a lot of the fun in the last two posts, so here are the remaining (or repeating, who remembers what I wrote) tidbits.

Like all puppies, so I am told, Godiva sleeps a lot. Except, it seems, during the night. Last night at 2:30AM, she decided that it was snack and play time. Godiva's Mommy told me all about how she figured this out, but it was 2:3oAM, so I remember nothing after Godiva's high pitched shrieks stopped. So Godiva's Mommy took her out, gave her a little to eat and let her run around like a nut for 10 minutes before she tired herself out and they went back to bed. I know eating and playing are signs of being healthy, but doing them at 2:3oAM??? That can't be right. That's when college kids eat and play.

By the time we got Couper, he was thankfully past his teething (or at least his nipping) stage. Godiva is not. She has the littlest, but sharpest teeth. When she nips, they feel like little needles piercing you. Her claws have the same feel, so when you hold her, and she nips AND digs, it must be what acupuncture feels like (my bad back is cured). She is very into chewing. The following is a short list of things she enjoys chewing: Fingers, toes, the sofa, Couper's steps to the sofa, blankets, shirts, bones, carpet, floor mats, artificial turf, her tail, toys, shoes, and shoe laces. I told her that I wanted to come out of the weekend with the same number of fingers and toes as I had entering the weekend. I did, 10 in 10 out for each. Helps me count. Godiva's Mommy came out with whatever number of fingers and toes she had entering as well.

Couper/Godiva's Mommy has mentioned at least five times in the last few days that the house ratio of boys to girls is finally even at 2:2. Couper and I had never really realized it was 2:1 for us all these years. Maybe that is a byproduct of the Tyranny of the Majority. Couper/Godiva's Mommy has not told us what the implications of this new even power structure is, but I can only fear that Desperate Housewives will now be on all four TVs instead of the usual three. We may need to get a male puppy very soon.

Back to our irregularly scheduled nonsense soon (or not).

Godiva Day 2 - Quick Update

2008-05-03T21:24:00.011-07:00

This time it is going to be a quick update. Complete sentences are optional tonight.

Couper/Godiva's Mommy is exhausted. We had Godiva sleep in a soft kennel with the top down last night. When she cried she would take her out to go potty. She cried about every hour to hour and a half. Of course, Couper and Sammie followed along for the fun. Big Buddy rolled over in bed and said "hmmmph".
Because we are taking her out at least every hour and a half, Godiva has not had any indoors accidents. She does like to go #1 on the cement in the patio, but we can live with that for now. I am going to declare potty training, "mission accomplished!"
Godiva likes to run under our feet. We are getting used to looking down before we take a step. Couper/Godiva's Mommy's feet make their Poop debut in the picture to the right.
Godiva has a new pink collar, but seems to scratch at it every 5 seconds. We are hoping that is just her getting used to it, because...
Couper purposely has three tags hanging off his collar that jingle when he walks. It is the best way to know where he is. When we don't hear jingling for a while, we know that there is mischief going on. Godiva desperately needs multiple collar tags because she can sneak up on us or run off way too silently.
Godiva has shown an interest in Couper's toys. She is not yet able or willing to fetch Mr. Hineys, if for no other reason than Couper is bigger, quicker, and way more experienced. However, when one is sitting around, she will sometimes go after it. If Couper can get to it before her, he will snarl or bark and she runs away. If she sneaks up without his seeing (again, the silent tagless sneak attack), he just watches as she chews it or bats it around a little. Fortuneatly for Couper, she has at most an 8 second attention span and he gets his toy back quickly.
She can amazingly pick up a full sized tennis ball in her mouth. I have no picture, but she stabs the fuzz with her sharp teeth, lifts it up, and carries it around. We bought her little tennis balls to play with, but Couper seems to enjoy those more than she does. Maybe she wants to be a big girl already.
Aside from Godiva trying to take his toys and bones, Couper has been great with her. He has even tried to get her to play with him, as she has with him. In a great sequence earlier in the day, Godiva snuck off with Couper's bone. After she tired of it, Couper picked up the bone and hopped up on the sofa with me. He then (I think) purposely dropped the bone off the sofa and waited. When Godiva came back through again and picked up the bone, Couper bounced off the sofa and chased her. She dropped the bone to run faster, so she lost that battle. However, as she got back around to one of her new beds (Couper/Godiva's Mommy has been to Petsmart a time or two) she found Sammie lying on it. Determined to win something, she jumped up and barked at Sammie, who fled. Yup, she is a dachshund.
For a creature so low to the ground, Godiva sure is gangly when she walks. At times she takes these gigantic steps for such little legs. It almost looks like a soldier crawling across the battlefield. I tried to capture this on video below:

That's it for tonight. Couper is telling us he wants to go to bed, and it is still Couper's house.

Godiva - Day 1 - A Quick Update

2008-05-02T22:49:00.010-07:00

Someday really soon, I am going to do a post on how we got Godiva, I promise. However, tonight we are all exhausted, so a quick update.
Couper's Mommy split as soon as she could from work to pick-up Godiva. I knew this morning when she asked if getting her on her own was a possibility, that I was out of the equation. Not spending an additional hour in the car in-and-around rush hour was an issue with me. I knew there was any stopping her anyway.

We met at home and decided to re-introduce (they met the night before) Couper to Godiva in the driveway. That way we could let Couper "invite her" into his house. Is this the preferred method of the most renowned dog books? Could be. But basically, I made it up on the way home. If it is the absolute wrong way to introduce a dog to a new home with an existing dog, I'll pretend I read it on the internet. Couper and Godiva seemed to remember each other from the night before and there were no issues.

To make the day more fun, we just happen to be watching Couper's cousin Sammie for the weekend. So we got to introduce Godiva to Sammie as Godiva walked in the door. Sammie essentially personifies (dogifies???) the old line, "Happy to be here, happy to be anywhere!", so there were no issues with Godiva meeting her new cousin. However, with three dogs getting to know each other (or in Couper and Sammie's case, re-getting to know each other), butt sniffing was at an all-time record level.

The evening went fairly smoothly. Couper was a playing fool (nothing unusual there). Sammie wandered around (happy to be anywhere). Godiva was very confused and cried a little, but seemed happy to cuddle with Couper's Mommy or me. Interactions between her and Couper mostly involved sniffing. The first time Godiva tried to play with the toy that Couper was playing with, Couper snarled at her. The next couple of times, Couper just let her play (it was more just taking the toy and chewing it, but it is a start to playing). However, Godiva learned a valuable life lesson later in the evening when she tried to run off with Couper's bone. I was not in the room, but the growl and the shriek indicates that this probably will not happen again anytime soon (no injuries to either).

And the Poop wouldn't be the poop without a potty update. It seems that Godiva needs to go #1 about once every hour or so. We spent a good deal of time outside for just that reason. However, she did get the inside of our house once (on the tile, not the carpet, thankfully) and the inside of her Gramma Buddy's house on our visit there (on the floor, not the rug, thankfully). Knowing that it will be a few weeks before she can really start potty training, there was not a whole lot that we could say or do. However, I am already looking forward to the day when she is potty trained.

That turned out to be not so quick yet not so comprehensive. Great combination. I promise to write the "How We Got Godiva" piece soon. Hopefully not in the same way that I promise the "How We Got Couper" piece. Until next time, another Godiva picture (enjoy my right forearm and watch as well):

Couper DOES Get A Little Sister

2008-05-01T22:16:00.007-07:00

This time Couper does get a little sister. We pick her up tomorrow. She is the piebald one (brown and white; on the right in the top picture, on the bottom on the bottom picture). Her name shall be Godiva (named after this not this).

More on this breaking news later.

Couper Almost Gets a Little Sister

2008-04-30T17:28:00.006-07:00

Since Couper’s successful Kindergarten training and an event-free six week stay by his cousin Sammie, we have been talking about getting Couper a little sister. The plan was always to do it the natural way. This is a family site, so I won’t go into too much detail, but it involves a man and a woman getting together, and driving to the breeder to pick one out.

However, I have always held out some hope that maybe we would find a perfect little sister through a rescue site. Although we did not get Couper through a rescue site, he was more or less a rescued dog (someday I am going to write the how we got Couper post, honest). So even though we (meaning Couper’s Mommy mostly) have put in our time with a “rescue dog”, it seems like the right thing to do to rescue one that fits in well if we can. So I have gone to a few dachshund rescue websites and done searches on the local dogs. I even created an RSS feed for Dachshund-Rescue.org.

A few weeks ago a rescue ad popped into my RSS reader that seemed like a good fit. The dog was a one year old female black and tan short haired miniature dachshund named Anjellica. She had to be given up mainly because the cat, who was in the house first, was not happy about sharing the house with the puppy. This was almost like Couper’s situation, except that he was the one not happy about not getting attention (someday I am going to write that story, honest).

I sent the link to Couper’s Mommy. We hadn’t talked much about rescue dogs. I figured that after Couper, she would want to start from scratch with a puppy. To my surprise, she jumped all over the idea. “You should send them an e-mail” (apparently I am the writer in the family). “Tell them Couper is a rescue dog.” “Tell them that he likes to play.” “Tell them about Petsmart training.” “Did you send them the e-mail yet?” “Tell them about our dachshund stuff.” “Tell them about the blog.” “Have you sent the e-mail???”

After a few e-mails back and forth with Anjellica’s owners we learned that Anjellica liked to play (good), was passive (good), was not fixed (fixable), and was not exactly housebroken (not so good). We decided to meet at a dog park near Anjellica’s owners’ house.

Dog parks are something that we have avoided with Couper. We have nothing against dog parks; we just were not sure how Couper would react in them. We were pretty certain that barking would be involved. We were also confident that Couper would bark at Anjellica and her mommy at first and warned them about that. Beyond that, we had no idea. Would Couper be a bully? Would he constantly try to mount her like he does with his dachshund cousin Frankie? Would he play nice? Would he give us an indication that having a little sister would be good? Our greatest fear was him being a bully. Our second greatest fear was that he would give us no indication of whether he would get along long term with Anjellica.

On the Saturday morning we made the hour drive to the dog park. We met Anjellica’s Mommy and Anjellica in the parking lot. Anjellica was as cute as could be. She was little and slight. Couper’s Mommy and I immediately wondered if that was how little Couper was when we first got him. Couper immediately wondered, “who is this person and dog?” and on cue, barked like a mad dog. Although warned, Anjellica and her mommy jumped back startled. We were not off to a great start.

We got out a couple of toys to settle the dogs (by dogs, I mean Couper) down and walked them to the dog park area. Anjellica walked as sweet as could be. Couper barked at anything in his path. He was however at least getting used to walking near Anjellica.

The dog park had two fenced leash-free areas; one for large dogs and one for small dogs. This seemed like a very good idea as we walked by the large dog section and a pack of giant dogs ran to the fence and barked at us going by. Couper barked back, of course, but he made a point of speeding up his trot while he did. He’s only so tough guy, but certainly not stupid. As we got to the small dog section, we found out that Anjellica had never been to the dog park either. After a couple minutes of worried debate, we decided that if we were ever going to see if they are compatible, we would have to go into the leash-free area and let them do what they do.

Couper was very excited to be in the leash-free section, and went about marking everything that didn’t move (that is not just a cliché, as we have seen him try to mark his dog cousins in the past). Amazingly he was not aggressive to any dogs and did not join the small dog pack that barked at all passersby. We staked out a shady corner for Anjellica and Couper to play. Couper was a little possessive of his toys and played with Anjellica a little bit. For the most part, he just seemed excited to be outdoors playing in real grass (not artificial turf like we have). Anjellica was a little reluctant to play, but proved to be quite the cuddle puppy. As time went by, our second greatest fear unfolded, there was not a lot of interaction between the two dogs. It did not help when our play session inexplicably added a Weimaraner (not exactly a small dog either, but was a puppy and the wimpiest of the three) and his daddy to the group.

The dogs played for about an hour in the park. There were some positive signs: Couper and Anjellica propped a font leg up on each other’s shoulders without incident (not mounting); They did a lot of butt sniffing without incident; Couper barked away a bully dog that ran into the group and was hassling Anjellica; Couper let us pet Anjellica without going insane. Couper’s Mommy asked to walk both of them together on the way out and they did fine. But there were doubts as well: Couper did snarl at Anjellica if she got his toy; they did not play a lot together. As we left, I still had no idea if getting Anjellica was a good idea.

We left agreeing to let Anjellica’s Mommy know. She had warned us that another family was coming in the next day to look at Anjellica.

As we drove home, Couper’s Mommy and I started talking about the play date. We agreed that Anjellica was great and that Couper did not give us a real indication of interest. We really wanted to see Anjellica on Couper’s turf and see how he reacted. We called to set that up, but having already taken up a good chunk of a Saturday, really could not schedule it for that day.
By Sunday, the other family came in to town, saw Anjellica, and took her right then and there. I think deep down, we knew that would happen; she was too good to last. It killed me to learn that Couper’s Mommy was willing to take Anjellica at the park on Saturday; we just didn’t get a chance to talk it over. I had no idea. I went to the park thinking that we would not be getting a dog that day, but did not realize that to get the dog at all we had to act that fast.

As we debated whether I am too cautious and/or Couper’s Mommy is too impulsive, we realized that there were good things to come out of the weekend:

Anjellica got a nice new home in the country with a dachshund sibling and a retired family that has time to housebreak her. We wish her the best.
Dachshunds on the rescue site get adopted quickly (at least in Arizona). Anjellica was on for four days before getting adopted. There was a 6 year old dachshund whose ad came on after Anjellica’s that was adopted before her, proving it is not just puppies that get adopted quickly. In the weeks since, I have not seen any new postings for Arizona, so hopefully there are not a lot of dogs that need rescuing at all.
Couper can handle the dog park. We have promised to take him to one near our house before it gets ungodly hot.

On the other hand, it was sad seeing someone have to give up a good dog because of a problem with another pet. We certainly do not want to be in that situation ourselves. That is part of the reason we are being very cautious about getting Couper a sister.

So, we are back to square one with getting Couper a little sister. Couper’s Mommy is off from school in a few weeks and will have more time to train her. With little action on the rescue pages, I guess our options are breeders or the puppy store at the mall. The puppy store is roughly $1000 more expensive, but you can finance. My first question would be, if I miss a payment, whose legs get broken, mine or the puppy’s? I am not sure there is a good answer.

Couper And His Floppy Disc

2008-04-15T20:24:00.007-07:00

Couper's Aunt Buddy (my sister) got me a camera for Christmas to do videos for the blog. Seeing that it is April, I figured I should probably get around to doing just that.

I am new at the video stuff, so please excuse the lighting that looks like it came from a Paris Hilton "home video". Let's pretend that was done on purpose and call it art.

Here are two videos of Couper playing with the toy his Gramma Buddy got him for Christmas; his Floppy Disc. He likes to bury it under his blanket and "dig" it out:

In the second video, I make the mistake of sitting down to get the low angle. Big Buddy sitting down equals, "let's play fetch with Big Buddy". So we do. Enjoy the quality shot of my left foot. We'll pretend that was also done for artistic purposes, not by mistake. Does my voice really sound like that? It does when I speak to a little dog.

In case you were wondering, most of the background noise is from the TV in the kitchen. Yes, Couper's Mommy is watching the Biggest Loser finale. Enjoy the videos before NBC demands they be taken down for copyright infringement.

Happy Tax Day From the Poop

2008-04-14T19:54:00.009-07:00

It's a slightly different picture of Couper with the Buddyweiser, but you get the idea. Tax Day and passing out with a beer. Seems about right.

I think Tax Day is best summed up by Homer Simpson as he watches news coverage of people lining up at the post office to beat the April 15th deadline:

Would you look at those morons... I paid my taxes over a year ago!

I agree. Anyhow, if you have not done your taxes this year, don't forget to declare you dachshund as a dependent. As Couper's Mommy said this week, "we spend as much on Couper as a lot of people do on their kids". All you have to do is point that out to your friendly IRS Auditor and I am sure that everything will turn out just fine.

Tune in for my next post, from lovely Leavenworth, Kansas as I detail Couper's attempts to bake a cake with a file in it for his Big Buddy.

You Are What You're Fed

2008-03-28T20:27:00.007-07:00

Couper’s Mommy and I make an effort to try to eat right. We don’t exactly kill ourselves trying - we both work (Lottery, hello???) and resort to heat-up meals and pizza from time to time - but we try. We also are on a budget right now and try not to go crazy with exotic foods or eating out too much. Generally we eat, to varying degrees, a lot of chicken, some pasta, hamburgers, steak, and of course pizza.

Couper on the other hand eats this:

Main breakfast and dinner: Evo – (Beef, lamb, buffalo, venison, potatoes, eggs, apples, carrots, tomatoes)
Breakfast Add-in: Salmon treats.
Dinner Add-in: Born to be Wild – ($25/lb) (Bison, elk, venison, freeze dried fresh fruits and vegetables, concentrated Omega3, Anitoxidants)
Yummies:
Chicken and Apple – ($18/lb) - Free Range chicken wrapped around an apple. He loves these and get them as a reward if he does a number 3 (that's a number one and number two in one trip outside).
Chicken Jerky - $25 a pound
Turkey Jerky - $25 a pound - When available
Liver Biscotti
Newman Biscuits
Iams Biscuits
Freeze Dried Ice Cream (Previously mentioned).
Pupperoni – We know that is not healthy, but sometimes you have to eat the equivalent of McDonalds/Dairy Queen

Before we go on to how we got to this point let me point out a couple of things. Couper's Mommy and I never eat things that are $25/lb. I think I would have six coronaries while grilling something that was $25/lb and then would not be able to enjoy it afterwards because it couldn't live up to expectations - not to mention the six coronaries, which I bet hurts. Couper's Mommy and I also rarely eat exotic stuff like venison, elk, and lamb. We rarely have buffalo. I am not sure I want venison or elk, but it sounds exciting. All the chicken that Couper's Mommy and I eat have never seen a free range in their lives, unless there are free range McNuggets that I don't know about. There, I got that off my chest.

How we got here...
It wasn’t always like this. When we first got Couper, he was “eating” Kibbles and Bits. Closer to the truth is he was picking at Kibbles and Bits but really saving his appetite for yummies. One day I went to Wal-Mart and they were giving away sample bags of Iams. The lady patiently explained to me that the sample was to take home for my dog and not for me to eat at the store (to be safe, when offered samples of chicken enchiladas at Costco, I now ask if it is for me or the dog – they generally are not amused). Anyhow, I brought it home, Couper ate it, and we switched to the “healthier” dog food.

As time passed we added more Iams products to Couper’s diet. They invented three varieties of sauce to mix with his food; beef, chicken, and bacon. Of course Couper’s Big Buddy was all over buying him that. Couper loved that stuff and eventually became picky about eating without it. Iams also got in the business of making pouches of wet dog food. It was not messy like cans and actually looked pretty decent. Couper would inhale those when he was lucky enough to get them.
Couper always had top notch yummies, but we did have a lot more Beggin' Treats and Snausages in those days to go along with his freeze dried ice cream and liver biscotti.

Things were going along pretty smoothly until the spring of 2007 and the big pet food recall. At first it looked like we were safe, that only the most generic of canned dog foods were involved. Then it kept expanding. Soon it was discovered that many of the major manufacturers were using the same suppliers. Then we saw Couper’s Iams sauce and pouched foods on the list. One or the other that we fed him at least once daily for the last six months. The codes on the products we had corresponded with the recalled codes.

To make matters worse, while investigating dog food on the internet, we discovered that grapes were bad for dogs. Couper’s Mommy and I had been eating grapes for desert in our quest to eat healthy. One day one of us (likely Big Buddy – maybe even accidentally) dropped one and Couper ate it right up. Not knowing any better, we began to share them with him. Hey, they’re natural right? Must be OK. It got to the point that if we had grapes and were not sharing, he would give us the sad-eyed stare down. If we ate them on the sofa, he would not just climb up on our laps to get a grape, he would climb up our bodies. We also got into the habit of putting a grape in with his dog food if he needed incentive to eat.

So between the Iams recall and grapes, we were scared to death. To compound things, Couper had hurt his back the previous Christmas. Now we were unsure if his occasional lethargy was due to his back or our poisoning him (A subsequent vet visit confirmed it was his back).

We had visited the “natural dog food store” in our town (your town has one too, I guarantee it) before, but despite a lecture from the owner on the evils of “corporate” dog food and the virtues of “natural” food, had stayed with Iams. After the recall, we were determined to change. We did our research on the internet and decided to go with Dick Van Patten’s Natural Balance. Yes, dog food endorsed by name by the dad on Eight is Enough. How could we go wrong? It’s not like his snacks were named after Willie Ames. (Side note: Dick Van Patten beat out Paul Newman, thought you would never see that in print in any context, did you?). Well, it went wrong. Couper enjoyed the food, but not more than a month or two later, some of Dick’s products were recalled. Amazingly, two of the products we had bought were among the recalled items. We should have known better, considering the haphazard way he raised Nicolas all those years ago.

So we changed foods again. This time we went primal with Evo, which claims to be "the ancestral diet". We stopped buying chicken jerky from Costco, despite the appealing price, because it was made in China and started buying the $25/pound variety made in the USA. Although Couper likes his new food, we got talked into the Born to Be Wild supplement that he scarfs down. Hopefully, we now have the healthiest eating dog in the world. He at least eats healthier than his best human friends. It seems easier to eat healthy when you are being fed then when you have control of your own diet. Maybe we should have Couper feed us. Then maybe we can find out if we like elk and venison.

Happy St. Patrick's Day from the Poop

2008-03-15T12:34:00.007-07:00

Before we start with the St. Patty's Day festivities, let's first wish Couper's youngest human cousin a happy 4th birthday! She loves to play with Couper and for some reason pronounces his name Quepa; as if she were from Brooklyn (she isn't). So in honor of her birthday, that is how we will say his name for the remainder of this post.

Now on with the show.

Happy St. Patrick's Day from the Poop!!!

I know, I know. We have run that picture of Quepa and the beer toy four or five times already. But, drinking is what you think about when you think St. Patrick's Day, right? They don't have Irish Whiskey, Irish Cream, Irish Coffee, Irish Mist, Irish Wakes, and the Kennedy's for nothing. But so as not to stereotype the Irish or St. Patrick's Day, here is a picture of Quepa with another of Ireland's fine products:

Oh, who are we kidding:

Happy St. Patty's Day from Quepa and the Poop!.

Happee Birfday Big Buddy

2008-03-12T06:30:00.001-07:00

Hi everywon. Couper heer. Big Buddy left the compewt0r on, so I hopped up here to wish him a Happee Birfday. Nice securitee Big Bud! Anyhow, my Big Buddys birfday is today and Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff. Sorry, a berd waz on the wall owtside. He is gone now. You may onedur how I am tieping? I have fore paws, a noze, and a tale. I am a tieping masheen. Back to my Big Buddys birfday. My mommy saz he is reel old. How old? Well when he waz born Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff. Sorry, kids were playing baketball outside. Wear waz I? O yeah, Big Buddy has a birfday tooday. He and my mommy are having kake. I kant have kake. I get to have a peenut butur biscut instead. What kind of cra Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff Ruff. Sorry kidz playing baketball again. I hav to go take kare of this. Happee Birfday Big Buddy!!!

1001 Dachshunds

2008-03-10T19:20:00.008-07:00

If you have not heard (they are very publicity shy), Disney is re-releasing 101 Dalmatians on DVD “for a limited time”. If you like dogs, you certainly cannot go wrong purchasing this classic. They don’t go into much detail (again marketing is not Disney’s strong suit), but it apparently is re-mastered as well.

However, let’s say you have only $20 to spend on a dog movie this century. You could go to the store today and buy 101 Dalmatians, a movie you have seen hundreds of times since childhood, before Disney put it in a "vault". Or you could wait for the Big Buddy/Little Buddy production of 1001 Dachshunds, a classic-to-be that you have never seen before. The movie has not yet been green-lighted, but I can say that 1001 dachshunds sure sounds greater than 101 dalmatians, does it not?

So when will 1001 Dachshunds hit the screen? Hard to say at this point. Big Buddy/Little Buddy Productions is stretched a little thin right now. Our development staff is also hard at work on the following projects:

Dachshund or No Dachshund: Twenty-six models hold twenty-six cases, each holding a breed of dog. One of the cases contains a pure bred dachshund!!! Contestants pick a case to keep and then pick the remaining cases to see the dog breed contained within. At the end of each round, “the breeder” will give the contestant an offer of a dog with a percentage of dachshund in it. The breeder wants the contestant to go home with a dog having the least percentage of dachshund possible. Contestants, of course, hope that their case is the one containing the pure dachshund.

Are You Smarter than a Dachshund: Contestants are given challenges to see if they are “indeed smarter than a dachshund". For instance, the dachshund poops. The contestant gives the dachshund a yummie. If the dachshund does not eat that yummie, does the contestant then give the dachshund a second different yummie? If the dachshund eats both yummies, then the contestant is definitely not smarter than a dachshund.

1 vs. 100 Dachshunds: Contestants try to answer questions as a panel of 100 dachshunds bark at them.

Little Buddy Biscuit: The epic story of a dachshund that nobody wanted, but eventually found the right owners and pursued his dream of winning the Wiener Nationals.

Couper’s Poop: Despite claims to the contrary, this crap doesn’t write itself.

You might be asking yourself, “shouldn’t the production company be called Big Buddy/Couper’s Mommy/Little Buddy productions? Wouldn’t that help get these projects finished?” Yes, it should and would; however, whenever we bounce a project idea off Couper’s Mommy she always gives the following answer, “you two are on your own with that one”. We’ll see if those fat cats in Hollywood give us the same feedback. What do you say Disney? If you can’t beat us, join us. We’ll even help you with marketing.

Happy President's Day From The Poop

2008-02-13T20:16:00.010-07:00

I don't actually get President's Day off, but Couper's Mommy does. Couper of course has every day off.

My favorite things about President's Day are the bad (usually local) ads. The best was a bed store ad that had a guy playing Lincoln say, "I need to pay too much for a mattress like a need a hole in my head!" (Tasteless? Absolutely. But admit it, when you saw bed store and President's Day, you were thinking, "here comes the Clinton joke". Now who's tasteless?)

I have absolutely no connection between President's Day and Couper. So below is a picture of Couper playing with Quacky the Duck. For one day only, Quacky the Duck will be renamed Mallard Fillmore. (By the way, ~~Quacky~~ Mallard no longer has any legs - guess who is responsible for that? If Mallard were in a President's Day commercial he would say, "I would give my left leg for a deal on a new transmission!")

Happy Valentine's Day From The Poop!

2008-02-13T19:55:00.002-07:00

Even though we had Valentine's Day just last year, Couper's Mommy insists that it is to be celebrated this year as well. Assuming she is right, Happy Valentine's Day from the Poop!

Give your little buddies a big hug and keep them away from that box of chocolates.

Couper's Poop FAQ

2008-02-06T20:57:00.001-07:00

The following is the long awaited Couper’s Poop FAQ.

What is a FAQ?
Frequently Asked Questions

Do people actually ask questions about this blog?
Rarely

Who is Couper?
Couper is our short-haired red miniature dachshund. He was born 10/1/2002 and came into Couper's Mommy's and Big Buddy's lives on 9/6/2003.

Why are you writing Couper’s Poop?
We wanted to document the many stories about Couper that we have accumulated.

Why should we care? Couldn’t you have just bought a notebook and left us alone?
You might not care. This was going to be a private blog, but the Google login was too confusing, so we opened it up to the world. We had bought a few Dog Journals, but have not filled them out. The internet is more fun anyhow.

There are almost no entries from 2/2007 until 10/2007. What, was Couper hibernating? Or did nothing happen in those months?
I created the blog in 2/2007. I was struggling on how to get started and then Couper was enrolled in “Kindergarten” in 10/2007. I figured that was a good way to really start the blog.

When Couper was in Kindergarten you posted 2 or more entries a week. Now you post whenever. What’s the deal?
I am lazy.

Is Couper a real dog or a composite of many real dogs?
Couper is real.

Is Couper’s Mommy real or a composite of many real dogs’ mommies?
Couper’s Mommy is real.

Is Big Buddy real or a composite of many real big buddies?
I am a fragment of my imagination.

Couper’s Mommy is listed as a contributor, but all posts are from Big Buddy. What kind of crap is that?
Couper’s Mommy is more the managing editor of the blog. I write, she screens. Nothing goes out without her approval. Therefore, if anything stinks, you could say that it is her fault.

In the post of 1/28/2008 you talk about Couper not being able to bring a tennis ball in the house. However in your post of 12/20/2007, you show a picture of Couper in the house with a tennis ball. How do you explain this?
Wizards

With all the pain and suffering in the world, why blog about something as insignificant as your dog?
Real bloggers on real subjects are required by law to blog in their pajamas from their parent’s basement. I have my own house, no pajamas, and there are few if any basements in Arizona. So, we’ll continue writing this nonsense.

Your blog seems like an excuse to post pictures of your dog on the internet. Ever heard of Flickr?
It is an excuse to post pictures of Couper on the internet and I have heard of Flickr. This blog is also an excuse to write about my dog, which is usually a bad idea in something like work e-mails.

Your posts take like an hour to read. How can I get that time back?
Flux Capacitors

I read your blog and hated it. Can I get my money back?
Please contact your internet service provider for monetary refunds.

Your blog stinks. Do I have to read it?
Only if you are a member of Couper’s immediate family.

How many drinks do I need to actually tolerate this blog?
Informal studies show that 4-7 drinks are optimal for Couper’s Poop tolerance. Add an extra drink if you are reading it at work. (Results may vary. Please consult a licensed bartender before starting any drinking program).

It is obvious that this blog is just a rip off of Marley and Me and Bottle Cap Sundaes. How can I sue?
Yes, it is a clear rip off of those books. If you are John Grogan or Patrick M. Sheridan, call your respective publisher. I am sure they have an army of lawyers on the payroll. If you are not one of them, look in the phone book under Attorneys, Shady.

This blog is excruciating. Do they let anybody write blogs these days?
Pretty much.

You didn’t quit your day job to write this drivel, did you?
Once, but not recently.

When the writers’ strike is over, will you hire real writers to write this blog?
No.

Wouldn’t this blog be better if Couper was a border collie named Coelestinus?
If you own a border collie named Coelestinus, yes.

Any chance this blog will quit posting about a dachshund and start posting hard core porn or World of Warcraft cheat codes?
Probably not.

The blog is getting stale. Will you introduce a new character like Scrappy Doo or that little Martian that only could be seen and heard by Fred Flintstone?
Back in the ‘90’s we added a super cool dog with attitude, but it did not go over well. We had to inexplicably shoot him off into space. Our core cast will stay as is for the time being: Couper, Couper’s Mommy, Big Buddy, and our wisecracking neighbor Roy.

The name of this blog is vile. You should be ashamed of yourself. Are you?
Yes. Up to this point, not about the name of the blog, but from here on out I am ashamed of myself about that too.

Do you “write” other blogs?
No. Couper’s Poop is enough.

Don’t real FAQs have a list of linked questions at the top so that I can just go to the question I am interested in without having to read through a bunch of garbage that I couldn’t care less about?
Yes.

Will you update this FAQ?
Probably not.

Puppy Bowl IV

2008-01-30T19:23:00.000-07:00

Please don't forget about the big game this Sunday. Of course I mean Puppy Bowl IV on all day on the Animal Planet (check local listings). If you somehow missed Puppy Bowls I-III, I will let our friends at Animal Planet describe it...

From baby beagles to mini dachshunds to mixed breeds — viewers are in for a fantastic lineup that's itching to play in a winning combination of tackles, puppy penalties and fido first downs. The renowned Harry Kalas, voice of NFL Films, returns to call the play-by-plays of this year's game.

They brought up the mini dachshund, not me. If you are anywhere near legalized wagering, bet on Couper's favorite player, Jack, to rip up the most toys, knock over that overrated Shih Tzu, and pee all over the place.

Speaking of which, I am not sure why they don't describe the funnest aspect, whenever a puppy poops or pees, a referee comes out, calls a penalty, and cleans up. Yup, four years of drama school at USC, night after night of improv and community theater, years of waiting tables, and this guy finally gets on TV cleaning up dachshund poop in a referee's outfit. He's this much closer to a non-speaking role on a Law and Order SVU.

Of course the real value of the show is it is an alternative to the Fox Super Bowl Pre-game Show, which this year clocks in at a lean 4 hours. That much Terry Bradshaw could make your head explode. So, enjoy Puppy Bowl IV. Just don't be one of those people at your Puppy Bowl party who say that you only watch the Puppy Bowl for the commercials.

Rebounding is all about positioning, timing, and effort…it has nothing to do with size

2008-01-28T20:17:00.000-07:00

We are in the middle of another college basketball season. Living in the state in which I went to college, and sharing the state with other universities having no basketball heritage, I get to see almost all my team’s games on TV. In my younger days, I used to pace the house and regularly yell at the TV. Essentially I was a coach with (fortunately) no power. With age, a few (or more) crushing defeats, a little less beer, and now having other members of the household, I have mellowed a bit. However, a few times a game I will be provoked to yell something at the TV.

I know what you are thinking: Is this blog still about a dog or is this now the worst written sports blog on earth? How does this relate to Couper?

Well, it seems that Couper gets a little freaked out by this…

Big Buddy: {At the television} GET A G*#&@~N REBOUND!!!

Couper: {Suddenly looking at Big Buddy} What’s with Big Buddy? He’s awfully mad. What does he want? A rebound? What’s a rebound? I have a Mr. Hiney. He never calls that a rebound. I better get him a rebound. Whatever that is.

Big Buddy: {Again at the TV} GET THE BALL!!!

Couper: {Stops looking for a rebound, whatever that is, and looks again at Big Buddy} Oh, now my Big Buddy wants me to get a ball. I know what a ball is. But he and my mommy always want me to leave balls outside. I am always told to “drop it” when I try to bring a golf ball or tennis ball into the house. I’m confused. I have a Mr. Hiney. We’re playing with that. How come that isn’t OK anymore? Why am I in trouble??? What did I do???

Big Buddy: {At the TV of course} PLAY SOME DEFENSE!!!

Couper: {Stops thinking about how to go outside to get a ball, and looks once more at Big Buddy} Play? I want to play. What is “play defense”? I know how to play catch, and play “3-43 hut hut hike”, and play “Joe Namath wins the Super Bowl”. I don’t remember play “defense”. I’ll bring him my Mr. Hiney. Maybe he will show me how to play. I’m in enough trouble as it is for not getting the ball. {Brings Big Buddy his Mr. Hiney. Big Buddy tosses it}

Big Buddy: {At the TV once more} WHAT KIND OF SHOT IS THAT?!?

Couper: {Catches the Mr. Hiney. Turns again to Big Buddy} Huh? I think Big Buddy is now insane. What is he asking me? Shots? I hate shots. I’m not even at the vet. I’m going to jump up on the couch and give Big Buddy a hug. He looks like he needs one and I do NOT want a shot. {Jumps up on couch and sits on Big Buddy’s lap, giving him the wide eyed puppy look}.

Big Buddy: {At Couper this time} Sorry, Little Bud. I’m not yelling at you, it’s this game…{Back at the TV} WOULD YOU GET A REBOUND!?!?!

Couper: Rebound again? That’s it. I’m outta here. I’m going under the bed where it’s safe.

So, at least once a game, I have to fetch Couper out from under the bed and apologize to him for about five minutes. I try to work this in at halftime, so I don’t miss any of the game I’m enjoying. If his mommy is home, (“There’s a game today? Uh, I need to get some things at Kohl’s. I think they’re having a sale.”) I will send him over to her and they can watch Tivoed soap operas together (Rarely during those does she scream, “Don’t do that! She’s only after your money!!!” When she does, I wonder if Couper runs under the bed?). If she is gone, we repeat the process in the second half.

No matter how much I tell him, Couper still does not understand that I am not mad at him, I am mad at the game on TV. Luckily this behavior is usually confined to college basketball and a little bit to college football (until about halftime of the first game when I realize they are hopeless again). My pro teams stink too much to care. I think Couper’s favorite televised sport is baseball. We take a nap together on the couch during the middle innings. No running under the bed for that.