Timey Wimey

Today is Day 31. With 30 days behind us and 30 days to go, we are officially at the halfway point! Time for celebration! However, it's amazing how much slower time seems goes by when you keep track of it. I bet the humans would be much less stressed if they threw out those things they call "calendars". Everything has to be done "on time" and they live from due-date to due-date. Tracking this 61-Day Mystery has made me understand the blessing of being mostly unaware of time. Of course, I know the difference between night and day, time to eat and time to sleep... but a bloodhound's patience is usually limited to the span of a few hours between meals.

Humans have much more patience than us hounds. I have heard a lot of chatter lately about an event called the Olympics that has been going on all month. I took the liberty of tracking down some information, and found out that humans train for four years between these competitions!!! Imagine that! Back when my human and I trained for conformation, obedience, rally and agility, we could enter shows almost any weekend out of the year. The biggest competitions were annual, of course, but still. To wait four years between anything seems crazy. Here is a video of me at work:

 This video is of me and my human earning a 99-point last leg for our Rally Novice title. We took 1st place!

Boy was I small in that video. Time does funny things, even when you're not keeping track of it. I thought I was done growing after I matured but lately I've been putting on weight. I have developed a little bit of a belly!

It does not concern me enough to go on a diet, however. Actually, I am surprised that I'm gaining. My appetite has only been normal for a small while, and I definitely have not been overeating by much. Oh well... it's a sign of my age, I suppose. Like I said, time does funny things.

Boxed In

Today, my human brought a giant box home and crammed it into our bedroom. She was excited about getting it for free. I assumed at first that this was the "whelping box" that I saw plans for earlier, and I started to imagine those "piggies" in our room. I was getting quite upset... those animals should be kept outside where they belong! But before I could protest, my human told me that this box is going to be my bed instead of my crate. I don't think I like the idea.

Us bloodhounds are never fond of change, especially when we aren't feeling our best. Though my appetite is back to normal, I still nap a lot and find myself grumbling over little things. I guess I should focus on the positive side of sleeping in a box now rather than my crate. It is kinda cozy, warmer, and more cave-like. But I hate the inability to see my human through the solid walls. I prefer to keep an eye on her. I try not to show how much it worries me when she leaves my sight for long periods of time, but I think my overly-exuberant greetings give me away. With all the weird stuff happening lately, I wish she'd stay close. At least this newest development grants me the chance to mope around and land me a few nights of sleep in her bed.

Of course, I must remind myself that I have only recently been lucky enough to share a room with my human. Up until a few months ago, Tipster shared the room with her while I was alone on the level above. He moped quite a bit when he was moved to the other side of her bedroom wall, but he has come to enjoy it over there quite a bit. I must admit that sometimes I do envy his predicament. He has free reign of the room on the other side, complete with his own super-comfy "chaise lounge" and constant access to 40lbs of kibble.

"Tipster", co-owner of my human. Of the Border Collie breed.

Tipster is the eldest of my pack. He is nearly 80 in dog years. I am pretty sure that is older than the biggest humans' ages. Honestly, he is the only member of the family I treat with complete respect. Of course, he had to teach me where my place was, but now I am the only canine member of our family that he tolerates the company of. I do wish that he would play with me. I've seen him play with the humans, so I know he has some puppy inside him somewhere.

Even when he tolerates my presence, his ears are back as if to say "I don't deserve this"

Hopefully, I will never get solemn and standoffish around other dogs. I am proud of the fact that I can play hard, forever displaying my inner puppy. Even despite my tiredness and grumpiness lately, the humans often rub my belly and talk about my inner puppies. They are so kind to remind me all will be well and that I'll be back to normal soon. That would be great! If I were completely myself, I would have this mystery solved! But now, with 36 days left, I am simply happy to have something distract me from worrying when I can't keep an eye on my human. I hope she doesn't mind returning to the room to find me sprawled on her bed. I think she can sleep in the box tonight!

Sick

I have not been feeling like myself. A few days ago I didn't feel like eating dinner and so I scratched all my human's blankets over to one side of her bed and fell asleep on top of them (this trick causes her to get cold and forces her to decide whether to disturb the peaceful queen's slumber or get up and turn up the heat). Just as the room started getting toasty (my trick works about 50% of the time), I started heaving. Wouldn't you know it but I got kicked off the bed and had to sleep in my crate. I didn't care much though; I was so nauseous I couldn't even clean up my own mess.

Ever since then, I've been depressed and gloomy and I rarely feel like eating my food (though I will not pass up a morsel of human food whenever I can get it). I'm probably even losing weight. My human doesn't seem to be worried, though her sympathy levels have skyrocketed. I should take advantage of that.

 My human snapped this photo while I was in one of my increasingly-common, deep-sleep naps.

I've been sleeping a lot lately, too. In fact, these days, I often choose a nap over updating this blog. I prefer to sleep lightly; half conscious of sounds and movements, should something need to be bayed at. But the last few days, I have slept so soundly that my human has been able to get up, leave the room, and return before I know it. I know this because, when I wake, her breath is often baited with the remnants of tasty morsels she was able to consume without my awareness.

I sure hope I start feeling better soon. I hate losing out on opportunities to partake of the humans' treats. And, more importantly, I have been so "out of it" that I have taken no notice of new clues for our mystery. If I am counting down correctly, there are 42 days left. Since I am feeling a bit better today, I decided to check out something the humans use on the internet to see if something is wrong with them. I typed in my "symptoms" and got a "diagnosis" of "morning sickness". My human came into the room and scolded me away from the computer before I could read the description, but I doubt the diagnosis was accurate. I got sick for the first time in the evening, and my nausea can hit at any time of the day. My escapades lately have been for naught.

Well, now it's time to wrap this post up. Cross your paws that I can eat all my dinner, and keep it down, tonight!

Slobber Story

Being a hound, I sure am nosy. I found this poem, written by my human, tucked away among some other papers I was snuffling through:

a bloodhound, when filling his tum
leaves nary a place lacking crumb
all manner forgot
he flings out a shot
of kibble-ridden drool when done

 Clever, no? I admit that it is quite witty and truthful, but, being a bloodhound, I can't help but feel like it makes me the butt of a joke. I mean... "all manner forgot"?? Come on... us hounds should not be judged over customs considered quite mannerly among dogs. And I'm not saying I don't respect my human pack. I don't pee in their house, after all. But poking fun at a hound with excess jowl who slobbers over a meal is a bit... insensitive. I can't help but feel that my own limerick response is required.

an owner, most thoughtful and wise
proudly flaunts each hound-given prize
takes photos of slobs
smiles o'er every glob
and wipes only those flung in eyes

I am, however, proud to say that I have an owner who is proud of my slobs:

This one reached from jowl to floor!

You've probably guessed by now that I haven't come up with any new clues lately as to what the 61-day mystery is. That's okay, no pressure! With only 10 days down and 51 to go, there is plenty of time to go off on tangents. Until next time, Happy February, everybody!!!