Catawampus

It snowed on Thursday evening, but thankfully by Saturday it had warmed up to spring-like weather.  Good thing since I have been stripped of my coat ( and my lovely patina with it).

Of most interest this week: the human debate over the proper definition and use of the word "catawampus." Annemarie used the word casually Friday evening as we were leaving the barn.  It came up again Saturday night while the humans were out together at the Lamplighter.  Sadly I am not allowed in restaurants, so I had to gather the information from Leah.  But she came home telling me what a cute little "cattywampus" terrier I am, and I knew it had obviously been discussed at length.  Upon reading her text messages later on ( I always check her phone when she is not looking, and I can reach it easily from the bed where she leaves it charging overnight.), I now feel the need to set the record straight.  

According to dictionary.com humans believe the definition of "Catawampus" to be:

an Adjective meaning

1. askew, or awry

2. positioned diagonally or cater-cornered

It is common in Southern and mid-Western American speech.

Humans may choose to use it this way, though I don't understand why.  I know exactly what a Catawampus is, and I know that there happens to be one living above the utility sink in the barn.  It is a pretty standard specimen.  Though, it is quite morbidly obese.  Leah refers to it as "Marbles."  It seems too fat to be any real threat to anyone, but I keep a close watch as everyone knows that Catawampi are closely related to dragons.  Though they devolved away from the ability to fly and breath fire many epochs ago, they are still able to make themselves invisible.  Perhaps the best known Catawampus of all time is the infamous Chesire Cat.  This Marbles disguises itself as a cat also.  They can be very dangerous and are known to cause stark-raving-madness in other animals.  Marbles is certainly too fat and lazy to do much of anything other than sleep these days.  

Catawampus

At any rate, you may imagine my relief upon reading Leah's texts and discovering that her father had quite correctly defined "Catawampus."  

So as Dr. Epstein indicated, the Catawampus is:

"Directly inferior to the cloacal fenestration of the New Caledonian subspecies of Platypus is the syndochian nodule commonly called a catawampus ( plural catawampusses, not catawampi)."

Thank you Grandfather.  This is in fact the correct definition of the Catawampus.  They are associated with platypi because they do lay eggs.  However, I must correct Dr. Epstein, because the correct plural is Catawampi. 

But enough of all that.  For all I know Nessarose might be a Catawampus.
If anyone else would like to share a definition of Catawampus, I welcome all attempts ( though of course mine is the only correct one, and should you submit a definition worthy of inclusion in one of my esteemed posts, prepare to have it thoroughly ridiculed!)

Me

Me

This constitutes abuse.  AND YOU ALL KNOW IT. 

 

In case it is not fundamentally obvious to everyone reading....

I have been bathed.  And subsequently shaved to look like a puffy, chubby Affenpinscher.  I should not resemble this dog nearly as much as I now do.

Random Affenpinscher

Where to begin?  Things have been bustling these past two weeks and there has been no time to write.  This was further complicated by my minor foot injury which has Leah in a paranoid state of distress. I am perfectly capable of nursing my wound myself with frequent licking.... But Leah insists on constantly examining it.  She feels it has gotten quite worse since she first noticed it at the time of my last post.  Of course it 'tis but a scratch.  Nevertheless she and her friend June pinned me down Saturday evening to poke and prod at it.  They then rubbed ointment into the puncture and wrapped and bandaged it ( excessively I might add) with gauze and tape.  I promptly removed all these things while they were out to dinner and cleaned the hole thoroughly with my tongue.  The rest of the weekend involved phone calls to Grandma and other friends about taking me to the vet on Monday morning.  Having overheard these discussions I licked my wound vigorously Sunday into Monday and luckily it had shown great improvement this morning.  Upon this mornings examination,  Leah showed a great deal of indecision about the trip to the vet. She photographed my foot repeatedly.  Spent many minutes on the phone with her friend Amy ( a vet) and today put me through the horror of soaking my foot in an epsom salt bath....but no trip to the vet.  Dodged a bullet on that one.
Last week was just one constant state of upheaval.  The old farm house we live in was having some repairs.  On Monday morning a group of men in work boots came in and tore down the living room ceiling.  While debris was raining down from above the farm workers also came in to carry out piles of junk and garbage that past employees have left here, as well as the debris from the ceiling.  This involved a lot of clunking around and the nerve-wracking uncertainty that something might be dropped on my head at any moment.  I therefore spent most of last Monday hiding securely under the bench in the kitchen.  An excellent makeshift bunker from which to observe the goings on but at least have some overhead protection.  Nessarose was so upset she ate two more pairs of Leah's panties.
Thankfully Leah had the good sense to move us out of the house for the rest of the week as the construction continued. We moved in just a couple of miles down the road to her friend Annemarie's.  Annemarie had gone to another planet for work, and we were in charge of the house, the property, and the two dogs and cats.  Nessarose and I are not allowed to meet the cats.  They are confined to a potting shed. Leah forbade us from going inside, insisting that we might disrupt the peaceful calm of the kitty nest. I just wanted to sample the cat poo from the litterbox, but never had the opportunity.
Annemarie's house is a cozy 2 bedroom kind of bungalow on about two acres.  It is nestled against the creek in the bottom of a  kind of gorge.  The lot is wooded and peaceful.  Of course two acres is large enough and I take our responsibilties VERY seriously.  Leah doesn't let us out for long periods of time, so I have to do my best when I am free to mark the territory well (to discourage bears and dragons of course).  She never gives me adequate time to inspect the whole site, and I fear I neglected the corner nearest the head of the driveway, since Leah is constantly calling me back to her whenever I head near the road.  I would ignore her but she has been carrying "canine carry-out" treats in her pockets and coming to call has had its rewards of late!
The house is much easier to patrol, and it has large windows all around which enable me to keep an eye on the outside simultaneously.  I was quite pleased to arrive and find that Annemarie had left me my own water bowl.  She had converted a large mixing bowl into a water dish and labeled it: Man Dog Water Bowl.  Clearly this was for me, since I am the only Man Dog.  Annemarie is owned by two miniature dachsunds, Miranda and Charlotte, or Mimi and CC. They are girls like Nessarose. I was relieved to find my own water dish since I prefer not to share with the females.  Although as the week went on I caught all of them at my bowl at one time or another. The dachsunds have no hair or fur so they are ALWAYS cold.  This is the main reason our walks are so short.  They are so cold they use all their pee at once, and have no interest in marking the property.  All the more reason I need to do my own due diligence.  Clearly Annemarie understands the problem having left me such a large supply of water to convert for marking.  How else can we keep the bears and dragons away?  ( Excellent thinking Annemarie!)
We spend most of our time in the bungalow in the master bedroom.  There is a giant bed. Plenty of room for 3 dogs and Leah (Mimi and CC are so small they only count as one full dog, hence...3 dogs.)  The TV is in the bedroom, so Leah tends to eat in bed. Nessarose and I are fed in the laundry room.  This is because the small weiner dogs are so voracious they might try to fight us for our food, and Leah says they are too tiny for that.  I think it is because she feeds them more meat in their kibble than we get in ours, but I hadn't enough time to prove this.

As I mentioned the bed is enormous! I like to stretch out on the other pillow, although the first two nights I somehow wriggled in my sleep between the mattress and the wall and became lodged there.  I had to be helped out in the middle of the night, it was really quite the embarrassment.  Of course I had to sleep so close to the wall because of the weiners.  As I mentioned they are always cold so they burrow beneath the covers like plump worms. And I do mean they burrow....they wriggle and burrow and squirm around.  I am a terrier lest we forget, and I have to quell centuries of refined high-bred instincts to keep from "going to ground" after them.  Sometimes I grumble just to let them know.  The whole thing makes me uncomfortable.  Anyone who is familiar with the movie "Dune" should understand.  But, the weiner dogs have never emerged from the blankets with their jaws gaping and teeth bared so I suppose they are not as dangerous as the Dune worms. Though a proper man-dog can never be too careful.
Rumor has it I'm getting a haircut on Wednesday.  I hope they leave me some cover for warmth.  This means I am probably having a bath as well.  So much for my lovely patina....

It's been a peaceful week with a conspicuous lack of mischief. There was even a glimmer of the impending springtime when the weather almost reached 60 degrees! Of course I fell through a sharp bit of ice and cut my foot between my first and second toe.  Really no more than a kind of split cuticle, but Leah was quite horrified by it, so I have received lots of extra attention and on Sunday night Leah came home with a hamburger for Nessarose and I to share. Today we had a long nap on the sofa in a puppy pile. I got to lie in the sun in the yard for a long while- my own little slice of heaven. Leah says I have to have a haircut because I am bringing too much dirt in the house. As long as I don't have to have a bath as well. I have escaped bathing these last few months on account of the cold weather and Leah's general apathy.  This has afforded me the opportunity to develop an unusual patina. This carefully built up coating gives me the most wonderful odor. I without a shadow of a doubt smell the best I have ever smelled in all my seven years. A bath would be a minor tragedy at this time! Oh well... I am too contented right now on Leah's lap to plan any great adventures.   Maybe tomorrow.

This is one of my favorite days of the year.  Closing night at the Westminster Kennel Club dog show.... 2011 was the pinnacle of my existence when the elegant beautiful "Sadie" won Best in Show!  Alas....what are we watching tonight?  The State of the Union Address.  Humans. Ugh.
So in the spirit of patriotism-  I submit my own "State of the Union (union of the great and glorious states and activities of the one and only....Hamish McDougall McDuff. )
2013 is off to a fabuolous start.  First we stayed home in New Jersey for the winter, where there has already been a good helping of snow (my personal
favorite) and the weather has remained wonderfully cool.  So much beter than those sticky hot days in Florida!  When there hasn't been snow, we have been blessed with mud, my second favorite. Furthermore I have singlehandedly contained the mouse infestation in the house, so when I am not wet, icy , or muddy, I am certainly comfortable and cozy in the house.  Leah has taken to feeding us a small amount of meat with every meal.  I haven't been bathed in several months due to the cold, so...safe to say we are living in relative domestic bliss.
Foreign Policy and Border Controls:
Here we continue to have some issues.  Our border is poorly patroled and  there are almost no safeguards to prevent outsiders from getting in.  The fence is easy to sneak under, and since Hurricane Sandy pieces of it are still missing. Of course this is not to mention the obvious- Leah never locks the door.  I am forced to remain in a state of hypervigilance-  sounding the alarm at any unusual sound or sight.  Furthermore her late night sneaking around forces me to the only logical conclusion :  She is dating without my permission, approval, or guidance. This has of course been confirmed by my keen sense of smell.  A new man hanging around means new treaties and trade negotiations.  A summit meeting was arranged, and though he stole my pillow, he does give excellent belly rubs.  Of course there should be a large spike in GDB( Gross Domestic Bacon) , since my hunger strike has led to more and more meat appearing in the kibble! Perhaps he will become an ally in my quest to meet Oprah.  Anything is possible.

I've decided to begin a hunger strike. Being a Gourmand like myself, this decision is not undertaken lightly.  However, sometimes it is a dog's only choice. Of course there are exceptions for snacks, and the three major food groups: meat, cheese, and peanut- butter. It's more of a "kibble-strike,"  but in my experience this is the most effective way to show my displeasure and modify the human's bad behavior.  Peeing on the bed is extremely effective as well, but usually results in a number of unpleasant consequences as side effects, so it is best saved for only the most extreme situations. The "kibble-strike" is most effective, since for some reason Leah believes that consuming the kibble in its entirety is essential to our survival.  Kibble seems like little more than a crunchy, salty filler to me....but if I refuse to consume it and appear thoroughly disinterested in the food bowl, Leah is immediately concerned and all attention shifts back to me. Usually I can achieve this simply by hiding out at the manure pile while Leah calls for me endlessly.  Fewer than  10 minutes inevitably leads to extreme happiness at the sight of me coming home to call, and we can fall blissfully into a puppy pile on the sofa.  This week called for something more extreme, since her state of distraction was greater than usual.
Chocolate Cookies.
Chocolate is strictly forbidden for Nessarose and myself.  Leah has been led to believe that chocolate is toxic to dogs and therefore dangerous.  Nessarose did her best to confirm this misinformation as a puppy, by toilet-papering the kitchen in a chocolate induced manic outburst.  Without a doubt the chocolate can have a methamphetamine effect, but Nessarose simply wasn't mature enough to control herself, and she was more than a little bit high.  As usual- the queen of over-indulgence.
Now one might think that Leah would have the generosity of spirit to not openly indulge in the one thing we are not allowed to have right under our noses....Well Sunday afternoon she was not only consuming chocolate, but baking with it!  Chocolate cookies!!  We all know what the house smells like with chocolate cookies baking... then she had the audacity to add insult to injury by putting peanut-butter chips in the chocolate cookies.  Peanut butter.  One of the three major food groups.  Furthermore, the cookies were placed on the kitchen table to cool ( a place Nessarose and I can easily access when not being watched), and then we were forced to follow Leah upstairs and locked in the bedroom with her as though we are not to be trusted.  Imagine that- like common drug addicts.  As though we can't resist the chocolatey peanutbuttery high. (Ahem.  We can't.)
If I refuse to eat my kibble Leah feeds me Pepcid.  As she believes my loss of interest in the kibble is a result of stress induced indigestion.  She feeds me the Pepcid with either cheese or peanut butter....so as you can see, I am getting my peanut butter one way or another.
Sidebar:  She's been out late lately.  Leaving me alone into the night with only Nessarose.  And I can smell there's someone else. I'm going to get to the bottom of this even if I have to give up peanut butter to find out.  If I refuse peanut butter she'll be forced to come clean.
I'll be angry if she's dating without me.  WE date together. I wish to be wooed, courted if you will....  with peanut butter, cheese, and bacon. Preferably all three together at the same time.

I dislike computers. I understand they are a necessary evil of the modern age, and of course without them I would have to find another way to share my thoughts with the world....I feel mind control would be easy to learn.  I'm going to have to explore that further....
Computers.  Human spend endless hours with these machines: Staring at them.  Stroking them. Leah's computer gets more lap-time than I do.  It isn't even soft and fuzzy.  How do they spend hours petting these things when I am right there doing cute as hard as a I can! Sometimes I get one hand on the head while her other hand is typing.  Really?  Who ever got a good belly rub with only one hand?!
Sometimes we have guests.  Leah's friend Cheyenne or June.  They pet the computer all the time too!  All this petting and stroking of a hairless nothing, it's unhealthy.  Just look what it has done to Nessa:  She thinks she's a shoe.
I have to leave now.  If I stop talking and roll over Leah will put the computer away and rub me instead.