Monday, January 09, 2006

Tubbs the Tub of Tubbiness

My dog is not an athlete. I have been watching some crazy dog competition on TV and it has left me significantly disappointed in Tubbs. He is no superdog. I tried to call him down from his snooze/drool fest on our bed with "Tubbs! Look at the doggies!" but he has no interest. Perhaps he is taking offense. I'm excitedly watching dogs hurl themselves 27 feet over a pool of water, and Tubbs can't even swim*. It would be like J watching the Victoria Secret fashion show and yell up "Kirstin! Come see these hot girls! Man, they're so hot!"

I must admit that this is not even close to being all Tubbs' fault. We have failed him as parents. He has never been to any formal training. His excerise level has MUCH to be desired, especially now that it's 2 degrees outside. His laziness and growing grumpiness must be attributed to us, and us alone.

Tubbs does have a few talents. I will share:

    Opening screen doors (J taught him that one, brillant!)

    He howls when you howl. And I mean HOWL. Very entetaining - to me.

    He does this cute sit-up thing when you hold a treat in front of him. J doesn't like me to do it. Says it's humiliating.

    He can pop some bubble wrap like you wouldn't believe.

    His paws smell like Fritos. Ok, not a talent, but my feet don't smell like Fritos.

    Dripping nose juice on the couch.

    Smearing nose juice on anything that nose juice may cause harm to (leather, for instance).

    Barking at the mailman. Cliche, I know, but true.

    Is eating a talent?

    Um, sleeping?


Ok, towards the end they became less like talents and more like annoying habits. But we love 'im..tubbiness and all.


T is sleeping so I took is pic. If you look close, you can see the nose juice dripping. Can't see it? Click on the pic and get a close up of the juiciness! (Once again, now at work this picture looks dark. It looks so good at home.)


He woke up after I took his picture.

*Tubbs is a Labradore, which makes it all that much worse that the boy can't swim. I still blame this on the fact that when he was 8 months old, J threw him in the lake. Scarred for life.

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