I've been thinking about vacations. It's cold and gray here right now. It can be beautiful too, but look at this bird. Doesn't he look like he's dreaming of summer to you? When the fishing is good, the sun comes out regularly, when his legs don't get trapped in ice if he stands and ponders for too long . . .

Seattle in winter is often a dank place--my elbows are a little more stiff during this season, and I have to seek out the warm tiles in the downstairs bathroom. And risk getting stepped on in the middle of the night when my people do a bathroom run.

The Lady and her friend rowed this morning, and she said a couple sailors invited them to cruise down to Mexico and then Argentina with them. She says those are warm places. Warm water to swim in. Warm sand to lie on. Fish tacos. I could do that. Next time she rows--tomorrow, I think--I'm going to see if I can climb aboard her single and receive an invite of my own. Wonder if I should do anything about my drooling or long toenails first . . .

Today is not a good day to die. Turns out the bump on my foot is not something terrible. It's just a bump. I have a few bumps, and every time my people discover a new one, the Lady tries to pretend it's not there until the boy's insistence that she "take Amos to the vet" and get him "checked out" finally wears her down. The Lady knows I hate the vet, and she doesn't like to wrestle me in there and have to answer the questions that she says make her feel like an irresponsible pet owner. As if she owns me--hah! The vet is so weird about poking things into orifices that don't belong to him--why would he do that? Clearly I don't like it. And when I let him know I don't like it, he puts something on my face so I can't bite him. Talk about taking any likelihood of fun out of the picture--sheesh. Thankfully, I don't have to see him again for six months. Maybe he'll relocate during that time, and my people won't find a replacement. There's always hope.

So, in the meantime, I will carry on, trying to teach my people all they need to know about getting the most out of life while I'm with them. Lesson for today: be grateful you have an old dog who loves you. And don't forget to let him know you're grateful. He will accept cheese as your expression of appreciation. 

It's been a very difficult few days here for the Lady and her family . . . and then this. Not the outfit I had planned for today.

Nuff said.

It's one of those cold, damp, gray Seattle fall days, the kind that makes my elbows hurt. Still I took the Lady for a short walk this morning along the canal--she needed it. She served at Farestart last night with her rowing team, and she seems kinda pooped and a little spacier than usual this morning. She said that the people she worked with--all the volunteers and the guests--were lovely, but it was BUSY, she said. Now, she's working on a copy edit for Martingale, and I'm lying on the heated tiles in the bathroom, blogging. Who knew I would enjoy this so much (both the blogging and the heated tiles)? Or have so much to say? Today, I thought I'd give the Lady a little plug for her Etsy site. She loves making that stuff and loves selling it too. The gift-giving season is approaching. There, plug done. Now, on to my campaign for a new Christmas swimming hole and a cookie jar I can actually access. If any of you have any ideas about this, please let the Lady know. She is very good with her hands and if she were sent a diagram and a nicely worded letter in favor of her sweet old hound's Christmas wish, she might be persuaded to make one or both. Also, the cats still need relocation. The one that takes my bed is especially cute. She'd make a very nice Christmas gift for someone. Amos, signing off. . .

Turns out playdates are not really my favorite thing. We have a neighbor dog--he smells good and I'm usually happy to see him, but he's very bouncy...very bouncy. Yesterday the neighbor man and the Lady thought ol' Amos and the next-door dog might like to "play." Well, I was thinking it might be more fun to go into the neighbor dog's house and find out what kind of treats his people give him. Instead, he came out and commenced bouncing. He bounced on me so that I fell into a hole he'd dug--I think it's a playdate trap so his friends can't escape when they're done being bounced. Anyway, when I crawled out, I discovered my elbow hurt a little more than before; hence, I was done with "playdating." Weird human term, that.

Today my elbow is better, and the Lady took me for a nice, blustery walk so she could come home and make more Etsy stuff. Wanna see what she's been getting up to?

These are for the holes people get poked into their ears. The Girl has said--and I am in complete agreement with her--that poking holes in your body to dangle things from is bizarre, but the Lady has two holes in each ear so she can dangle lots of stuff. She smells good, and she rubs my belly and gives me treats, and I know she's a little crazy about me, but she does have her weirdnesses. They all do.

At dark-thirty last night we had uninvited guests. They were wearing masks, but I could still tell they were of the uninvited ilk. And I know it's not ring-the-neighbor's-doorbell-for-candy day yet, because the Lady and the Mister put that terrifying talking man/doll by our door when it is. So, needless to say, I got a little irate when the uninvited appeared. They were banging around in my food bin on the deck. Why is that my food is kept on the deck, you might ask? Well, I've wondered that myself. The people have their own reasons for things, it seems. And their system seems to have lured the uninvited to partake of my stuff. So tonight I'm getting my mask on...

...and I'm going to their house to partake of their stuff. I hope they have good stuff...[fade to Mission Impossible theme song]

Today's the girl's birthday. Seems like she was our little girl yesterday, and today she's our big girl. The lady is making a massive amount of birthday cookies I can't eat for the girl and her rowing mates.

I think she's not showing much consideration for the guy is who is with her here through thick and thin, the very guy who loves cookies and has been sniffing around her hopefully for the past hour and a half. These cookies are the girl's (and her) favorite kind, mudslide cookies. I haven't seen any dirt go into them, but I have seen her licking her fingers and eating leftover bits of chocolate. Actually, it's a little worrisome. I can now see the whites all the way around her irises, and her eyeballs are starting to vibrate a bit. Also, it appears she can't sit still or stop talking. Hmm. Perhaps I should take her out for a walk. Walking off some of the chocolate might be good for her. Then she'll have a little nap, and I can have a cookie:-]