Category Archives: Frank and Stanley

Chloë Gets Down with Her Bros

I got together with the boys a few weeks ago for a pre-birthday romp. All of us were otherwise engaged on our birthday proper, so we took advantage of this opportunity to marvel at how grown up we’re getting and how much Stan and I are starting to look like twins.

Stanley and Tiffany

Stanley and Tiffany

Frank, on the other hand, takes after the other half of the family. That Frank, he’s his own guy.

Frank and Tiffany

Frank and Tiffany

It’s easy to see which one I take after.

Our heroine.

Our heroine.

 

Chloë Threatens to Fire Her Agent

Up to now, I had thought Mike was doing a pretty good job for me. I mean, nobody has stopped me in Petco asking for an autograph, but strangers still stop us and tell Mike and me how cute I am.  And certainly through my blog, Mike has established me on a higher recognition plane than any other wirehair dachshund my age, at least the ones I know about.  I’ve had videos on the Visi-Ball site, for crying out loud. Think Frank and Stanley have built that much of a literary platform?

Kiki, before her TV debut

But I’ve got to reconsider my assessment of Mike’s worth in career-building  after finding out that Kiki–that tiny Havanese my friend Lynn takes me to play with,  has made her network TV debut. The nerve of her! (Kiki, not Lynn; I can’t imagine for an instant that Lynn had anything directly to do with my snub or Kiki’s good fortune.)

I refuse to hold it against Kiki, though. After all, she’s not nearly as cute as I am;  she’s just got a better agent.

Kiki and Chloë square off.

I’m blaming Mike. And unless he can get himself back on my good side, he’s toast. And if in the end I decide to let him stay on as my chauffeur, autobiographer and personal assistant, he’s gonna owe me, big time.

Come to think of it, there’s no way I’m letting Kiki get away with this, either. The next time  I see her, I’m going to have to remind her who’s the boss.

Chloë Educates Her Brothers

I hadn’t seen my brothers Frank and Stanley for quite a while when we got together on a drizzly afternoon last month.  I brought them over to the cemetery in the park, and they were happy to get this geography lesson since they had never been there before.  I showed them the cemetery is a great place to chase squirrels and balls and, at this time of year, jump around in piles of leaves. Just don’t take a flying leap into a stone wall behind the leaves like I did the other day.

Chloë fends off Frank.

Frank, Stan and I were all excited to see each other, but our usual  unabashed euphoria wore off more quickly this time. Then we all did our own thing for a while before coming back together for another brief bout of wrasslin’. Stan, of course, was much more interested in mixing it up with me than Frank was. Frank’s still the brooding intellectual type, whereas Stanley’s just a brute.

But, as you can see from the shot above, I  usually hold my own. Until they gang up on me together, that is, although it always seems to be Stan leading the charge. One time Heather had to raise her voice to Stan, who was growling a little too vociferously as he grabbed my neck with his teeth.

The boys gain the upper hand

Hey, we’re cool. Everyone calmed down long enough to shoot a family portrait with Frank and Stan and their humans, Tiffany and Andrew. I like them because they have no compunction about letting me lick them on the mouth and bite their noses. That’s the kind of humans I like to hang with.

Stan and Frank and Chloë with Tiffany, Heather and Andrew

Chloë and Her Brothers Reach the Terrible Twos

Chloë, Frank and Stanley with friend.

When we met  my bros Frank and Stanley in the park a few weeks after our second birthday, it seemed to me the guys were already slowing down. They’ll tussle for a while, and then go their own way. They don’t want to mix it up nonstop anymore.  Especially furry Frank, who is definitely the artistic one.

No slowing down for me. I still enjoy being just a little bundle of energy, chasing after anything that isn’t nailed down. That day, for example, after we walked in the park for an hour and I tussled with Frank and Stan, I was just getting warmed up for my daily tackle of Mike. Just watch. A day without a tackle is like a day without sunshine.

After we said goodbye to the boys, we went home for 15 or 20 minutes of chasing Wiffie around before dinner. And maybe some tug for dessert.

Sure, I’m better behaved and more mature all the time. But to demonstrate that I’m still a puppy in many respects, let me recount some recent events:

  • I jumped out the open door of Mike’sparked car to chase a rabbit.
  • I took off several times after the Bartons’ cat, Beau.
  • I swiped a piece of pizza out of the hand of an unsuspecting child. 
  • I took off after a rabbit in an undeveloped part of the park and took off for more than an hour.

And really, to a large extent I managed to get away with all of that: Lots of bluster, little repercussion, if you ask me.

So clear the decks, people. I’m just warming up.

Chloë Entertains Her Brothers

I hadn’t seen my brothers Frank and Stanley in a couple of months when we got together in the park last week. Turns out Frank had some kind of wart on his mouth and wasn’t allowed to  socialize with other dogs (except Stan, of course) until he got rid of it. I sure as hell wouldn’t want to have him gumming my head and swapping spit if I could get warts from it. Yuck.

But it was great to see them after such a long time and do a little running around and wrestling with the guys. Stanley was into it; Frank also greeted me warmly, but he soon became preoccupied with sniffing the fields for mice and rabbits.  I can do that any old day, so rolling around with The Big Man (Stan) was No. 1 on my agenda.  In the video below, you can see how excited Frank is about wrestling when we haul our butts right past his nose. I can tell Frankie will be the deliberate, studious brother, while Stan is always cruisin’ for a bruisin’.

Don’t get me wrong. I love ’em both to death. And I admit that nobody’s ever going to accuse me of passing up a donut or a hamburger, either. But let’s call a load a load: Frank and Stan are downright huge. I weigh about 18 pounds, maybe. Frank weighs in around 30, and Stan is pushing 33! If the Green Bay Packers are short a linebacker for the NFL playoffs, Stan could fill the hole.  And then some.

But c’mon guys, maybe it’s time to cut down on the rations. Even Groucho Marx took the cigar out of his mouth once in a while.

Chloë to Celebrate Her First Birthday On Dachshunds Day

Feb. 5, 2010–a day that shall live in infamy. Well, that might be a slight exaggeration, but as my loyal readers (and you know who you are!)  probably can tell by now, I believe I deserve the right to flash a little swagger now and then. Anyway, Feb. 5, 2010, was the day that I–along with Frank, Stanley, Basel, Elsa and three other siblings whose names are not yet known to me–came into this lovely world. Wow. It’s amazing how time flies.

And, at the same time, how little this highly important event means to SOME PEOPLE (not naming any names, but it’s not hard to guess). I mean, really, it’s their baby’s first birthday and where are they? Off visiting Mike’s mom in Florida. I can see now where their REAL priorities lie. Thankfully, I mean a bit more to a few others.

Chloë models her new birdthday fleece.

I have already received birthday wishes, as a matter of fact. A nice card from my vet, for starters. And I got to celebrate a bit with brothers Frank and Stanley last Saturday. We ran around in Discovery Park, and they even gave me presents! First, a tan fleece sweater, which I really like; I’ve already worn it on a chilly day’s walk last Sunday. They also gave me a deer antler to gnaw on–sweet, I can’t wait. Later on my friend Lynn came over, and she’s staying with me while Mike and Heather are away. Lynn is always fun, and I’m sure she will treat me much better than that cheapskate Mike does. Has he gotten me a birthday present yet? Not likely.

For his part, Mike claims there’s going to be a party for me when he and Heather get back. He says Frank, Stanley and I can celebrate our birthdays on another day in February, just like they shifted Lincoln and Washington to the third Monday of the month and called it President’s Day. A three-day weekend for us!? Well,  now you’re talking. So Mike has designated Feb. 13 as Dachshunds Day. And in the spirit of the occasion, I have declared double treats that day for all members of our noble breed.

Splendor in the grass.

That Mike, he may be a pain in my butt most of the time, but every once in a while he gets a damn good idea. I like this one.

Gotta go now. Lynn and Moosey are calling me away from the computer to head downstairs, relax in front of that roaring fireplace and enjoy some treats and milk. Actually, I hope Mike and Heather stay away until Dachshunds Day. Lynn, I’m feeling a bit of a chill…where’s my sweater?

Chloë Welcomes the New Year

Yikes, can it be January already? The holiday season just flew by. I enjoyed lots of gifts, several play dates, ample supplies of rich food. Why can’t it be like this year-round?

Yes, the holiday eats were splendid, but even better was having Heather work at home for a week. She was typing away at the dining room table every day, of course, but I could sit right next to her in my red camp chair, and she is much more liberal with those peanut butter-filled marrow bones than Mike is. Mike, alas, is still a work in progress.

Chloë keeps an eye on her new blanket, fox tail and Kong.

And despite living in a “no-gifts” household, I did OK for myself this year, even if that stuffed hot dog that Aunt Susie sent bit the dust. During December I raked in an incredibly soft orange blanket (excellent for watching Syracuse win the Pinstripe Bowl), a Kong that dispenses food through a little keyhole when I knock it on its side, and the surprise reappearance of Foxy’s tail (which I have always considered my favorite part of Mr. Foxy). I also got a Quiet Spot Pet Tag Silencer from Mike and Heather, and I ABSOLUTELY LOVE IT! Not only does my QSPTS keep my tags from wearing down so the type on them can’t be read, but it silences me when I’m in pursuit of birds and rabbits, like a furry  stealth bomber. Plus, the purple QSPTS matches my collar so it’s very stylish; (for some reason) mine also seems to glow in the dark. Check out the photo!

Chloë displays her glowing tag silencer.

Then I had some holiday season play sessions. I hiked in Discovery Park with my bros Frank and Stanley (and they brought a friend, a mini dachshund named Valerie), visited a Havanese named Kiki with my friend and sometime sitter Lynn, and enjoyed several impromptu romps during our morning walk on the park Parade Ground (although if ever questioned by authorities, I will steadfastly deny it, of course).

I really liked going over to Kiki’s house with Lynn. Kiki is a 1-year-old white Havanese whose body is about five pounds lighter and four inches shorter than I am–not counting our tails. She may be a little taller than I am, which accounts for her being a little quicker, but I am much more strategic than she is. I can hide or crouch down behind something, or chase her in circles to gain the upper paw. But I give Kiki credit; she wasn’t as well versed in play as I am, but she quickly caught onto my techniques and evem tried a  few tricks herself. (I played along, to give the kid a break.) I let her be the alpha dog some of the time, to be polite. But really, when it comes right down to it, both of us know who’s in charge.

Oh well, I guess the holidays have to end sometime. If it were like this every day, well, then we couldn’t treat them like holidays.

Besides, if we don’t get those colored holiday lights and cards off the mantel by tomorrow morning, Aunt Susie is liable to have the Light Brigade knocking on the door by noon.

Chloë Finds Many Excellent Adventures

Chloë goes down to the sea in ships.

Heather and Chloë at Fishermen’s Terminal.

Chloë checks the horseflesh before laying down a bet at Emerald Downs.

Heather introduces Blue to Chloë.

Chloë practices sky diving in Discovery Park.

Chloë, swinging in the rain.

Chloë auditions for the Flying Wallendas.

Chloë vaults her brother Stanley (Andrew McGehee Photo).

Chloë and brother Frank audition for Dancing with the Stars and American Gladiators at the same time.

Chloë and Frank in a standoff (Andrew McGehee Photo).

 Enough for today. I’m getting tired just thinking about these adventures again. Time for some treats and a nap.

Chloë Has Her Coming-Out Parties

Puppy playtime at Ahimsa.

My life is all about socialization these days. There are so many things that I need to be exposed to before I’m six months old. Such as cats and dogs and rabbits and trains and boats and people of all kinds. Last week I met a cop (who was covering a suicide in Discovery Park, no less), college girls in weird costumes, a teenager with spiked hair, a garbage truck, a bus with a loud air horn and several motorcyles. And those are just a few of the ones I remember.

Memorial Day weekend was big for that kind of stuff. First off, Heather was around a lot; that was different. Normally I can count on more nap time when that happens, but on that weekend there was so much socializing that there wasn’t enough time for napping. (Maybe that’s why I’ve been a little grumpy all week.)

Chloë herds Tsavo, a Rhodesian Ridgeback.

First we went to my weekly Puppy Kindergarten class. It’s called a “class,” but they’re really not teaching me much there. Mostly it’s the teacher telling Mike and Heather and the other owners what they’re doing wrong at home, and the puppies playing.  I always get to play in the group with the puppies who are larger and more rambunctious, but it really doesn’t matter who they are, I am always the puppy in charge. I’m a benevolent despot, however, and so I allow all the puppies to receive lots of the little treats they use (the teacher gives out pieces of real chicken!). If the other pups are anything like me after one of those classes, there’s a lot of pooping going on all afternoon.

Then we went back home, where Mike and Heather had invited 10 of their SU sports-watching friends over to meet me. Well, to meet me and eat some of that slow-cooked pork that Mike was cooking. The aroma drove me crazy for the past two days.

Logan and Chloë share a quiet moment at her Pork and Puppy party.

I had never seen so many people crowd into this little house before, but everybody said that I handled it fine. Even when those kids Logan and Leah were all over me, I maintained my composure. I’m hoping to cultivate close, personal relationships that will pay off down the line in future walks and treats in sizes much larger than those tiny training bits.

The sun finally peeked out for a while on Memorial Day afternoon, and we drove to our secret playfield to meet my personal stock broker Caroline and her two dachshunds, Pinot and Ida.

Pinot

Pinot, a longtime admirer and fan of the blog, was the more fun of the two, but she’s still recovering from serious health issues, and she just can’t mix it up with me like my homeys Frank and Stan. Hey, I may be just a puppy, but I understand when to turn it down a notch. That’s the point of all this socialization stuff, right?

 Ida, though–that poor girl has some issues to work out. Caroline recently adopted her from another Magnolia family that couldn’t keep her anymore after a new baby changed their pack dynamic (I’m not dishing out  any more poop on that situation). Ida, who is about 4 years old, seems nice enough, and she’s a redhaired beauty to look at, but she’s obviously lacking in confidence and has limited social skills.

The lady Ida

I guess it’s just going to be up to me to help bring Ida out of her shell. I’m going to start slowly, but eventually I’ll have her out there butting heads with Frank and Stanley, no problem.

Not right now, though. I think I’ d rather wiggle around in my bed with the gifts I got at my Pork and Puppy party. Let’s just chill, and tackle the heavy stuff later.

Chloë shows off her party swag.

Chloë Meets the Boys: It’s a Family Affair

Three puppies on a stick.

My third visit with my brothers Frank and Stanley went about like the first two: nonstop mayhem.

I have puppy play time at my puppy classes, but trust me: It’s nothing like this. Not only am I tired for two days afterwards, but black and blue. Those full-speed head butts and the chest-to-chest bumping does take something out of me. I haven’t heard the boys complaining, but, hey, they’ve got a little more padding than I have. Together, Frank and Stan outweigh me almost 30 pounds to 10, but those porkers can’t match my speed or stamina. And don’t forget: I can be a feisty little bitch.

Full-speed head butting.

So Mike tells me he tried out the movie button on his camera for the first time. I checked out his inaugural video before authorizing its distribution on the Internet; I had to make sure I was being shown from my good side. I let it go–not too bad for a first effort, but now I’d like to see him pay more attention to utilizing the full capabilities of the medium. Since Mike has recently read practically every dog-raising book in print, maybe now he can bone up on cinematography and develop my talents as a movie star. Then he can be a wizard, a true auteur. Meanwhile, click here to link to his maiden effort: a scant minute of the guys and I in action at an unspecified location in Magnolia (that must be kept secret lest Seattle Animal Control find out and put the secret spot under surveillance). Take this, Animal Control.

Flying tigers.