Twinsight 39 of 50: See Life Through Your Dog's Eyes

Pabby howling, "I'm the king of my world!"

Hey, it’s Pabby, the Swenson family schnoodle. Welcome to my second blog post of the year. In my first post, I featured photos of some of my friends. I’ve been begging to post again, and now I finally have my shot. I deserve at least a couple of guest posts since I turned 50 this year, too…in dog years, of course.

I thought I’d start by telling you about the best book I read this year: The Art of Racing in the Rain which was written through the eyes of a fellow canine, Enzo. He’s observant and smart. It’s a good read and I highly recommend it. He inspired me to find my voice and give you insights into my family members through my vantage point - real, on-the-ground, daily life.

Leah, My Favorite

I’ll start with Leah, my favorite. She pleaded for me to join the family in the first place, named me after her imaginary friend, can find the sweet scratch spot on my back that makes me go wild, and kept every promise that she ever made to our parents about caring for me. Until now. Now she left me to live with a bunch of people who are strangers to me, read a lot of big books, and play with twerpy mice in a lab. And she doesn’t come home very often. Waaahhh! When she came home for Thanksgiving, I gave her many, many kisses but she still left again. Double waaahhh! I’m trying not to take it too personally and resign myself to periodic visits.

Leah and me



Chloe, My Friend Supplier

Through the years, Chloe has been cordial but between you and me, she's not exactly dog’s best friend. This morning she was frustrated that I was barking, and told me to shut up! But the squirrel who got to run all around MY yard was driving me crazy. Thank goodness for my perch (the spiral staircase) that allows me to keep watch on the whole animal kingdom of the area and keep them all at bay. Even though Chlo needs to up the love, there is some redemption because she has really energetic, good-looking friends. They are nice to me and speak to me in high voices which I love.

Chloe and me

Dad, My Maintenance Man

Dad is really good to me. He takes me to Glamour Pets (which is not as fru-fru as it sounds...) to get a big, big haircut when I’m getting too shaggy. And he arranges with our friend, Anne, to take care of me and let me run with the big dogs when my family goes out of town without me. And he takes me to see Drs. Jackie and Craig when I need check ups or swallow bright shiny objects. (Ask me about the quarter...definitely a bad idea in HINDsight...) As soon as dad drives in the driveway, I take my position with my front paws over the back of the couch ready to pounce on him as soon as he walks in the door. He's a good man to have around.

Dad, me and a humiliating costume

Mom, My Personal Trainer

I’m in really good shape, if I do say so myself. I have an "athlete's heart," the vet says, and quads of steel. I’ve trained my mom to get me outside most days for a walk or run. (Pssst...she’s slowing down. Kind of annoying, but I’m learning to live with it because I don’t have a choice. Really, who else am I going to train at this point in my life?) Here’s how the morning routine goes: I go outside, I eat, I make mom play fetch with me while she’s trying to do sit ups, I watch her read, I follow her to the bathroom, I bark until she comes out, I nip at her heels until she goes to the closet to get her running gear and the proverbial plastic bag, I eagerly await my leash, and, ahhh, I run like the wind. And yes, it’s all about me.

Mom and me

I love Christmas morning because I get this amazing treat - a bone with the beef jelly stuff in the middle that I can fixate on for hours. I'm really not sure what the rest of the fam does, but I'm good.

Gotta run. Figuratively and literally. Licks to you and yours this Christmas. And give your sweet puppy dog (or someone else's) a hug from us.

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Twinsight 16 of 50: Gotta Love Dogs



Guest Blogger, Pabby Swenson

In most families with dogs, it seems that there was one hold out to getting the dog in the first place. In our family, it was my mom. Here was her dog criteria: mute, bald, compliant, and no GI tract. There were actually quite a few dogs like that in the house before I arrived. She calls them stuffed. I call them chew toys.

She eventually caved and now wonders why she was so stubborn since I'm so charming and unconditionally loving. I'm a seven-year-old Schnoodle, and was named after Leah's imaginary friend. When she was four and Chloe arrived, the imaginary friend fled to Florida because the competition was too fierce. Leah wanted to give Chloe the name Pabby so the ring of his name would still be heard through the house. To ease the pain of not getting her way, my parents stupidly told her that if we ever got a dog, we'd name him Pabby. So that's how I got stuck with this name. But it is appropriate that Leah named me because she's my favorite. She simply shows me the most love. I've scheduled some canine therapy for myself (must snatch the Visa...) after she goes away to college since I basically stalk her day and night.

One morning, mom said out loud to me, "What should I write about in my next blog? What was I thinking when I promised 50 of these?" I really wanted to help her because she looked more desperate than usual. I said, "Hey, I might just be a dog, but I have friends. And they're good looking." So scroll down and meet some of my friends of all shapes and sizes.

  


Tilly Brady



Coconut Johnson



Dakota Jensen



Trout and Cider Beery with sister, Ella (she's the one in the middle)



WallE Walsh



Tehya Quinnell

 

Daisy Cook



Cozmo Strommen

 

Annie Kay Dick

 

Willy Jensen



Sissy & Lexi TenHulzen




Cosmo Brown Bloch with sisters, Callie & Tori

 

Cory Lima with sister, Sonia


Thanks for meeting my friends! If you have a dog, send me a photo of him or her and maybe mom will let me do another blog in the future. Later, Pabby

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