Petey & Sophie & Asta, OH MY!

Lest you should think all my time in New York City was spent canoodling with my sweetpea and lovepup, Asta, here is proof positive that our relationship is not one of those that excludes our friends. We spent some good time with Sophie, Petey Boy, and his tennis ball. (My girl told me we were not ever leaving NYC if we didn't get to see Petey, so I kept stalling the meeting, even though I was dying to see him.) Here he is in all his fuzzy glory, sporting that cute little balogna tongue.

Our first meeting occurred at Asta's house. Petey came over for evening cocktails. His fave is a bowl of cool water with a tennis ball twist.

His mama (Auntie Jane) looks like she's trying to work some type of healing on me in this photo, but really she's just giving me some very relaxing scritches.




We went right from scritches into the Goober Mind Meld.

Eventually I had to relinquish my claim to Auntie Jane so Asta could get some share of the lovin'.

Auntie Jane tried to convince me that Asta & Petey are like brother and sister, but I really don't see the resemblance.

We all felt at home with each other right away, and in no time Petey was sporting his mohawk for us (it's his fave 'do when at the beach). He had us all cracking up!

Naturally, Petey wanted us to come with him to the dog run where he and Asta first met.

We were met there by Sophie, who was ready for some tennis ball bonding with Petey!

While Sophie & Petey extolled the virtues of the tennis ball...

Asta engaged my girl in a game of holy roller fetch.

That girl plays a serious game of tug,

and loses all sense of personal space. (My girl didn't care, though. She's a BIG Asta fan!)

From their expressions you can obviously tell that the photographer is NOT the one with the tennis ball.

Sophie showed us one of the stupid hooman tricks she's been teaching her mom. She said her mom can actually put 3 balls in her mouth at once.

Petey ~ communing with the ball.

We tried several times to get a group shot of us at the run together. My powers of persuasion were not enough to entice my sweet Asta to leave her holy roller ball for the photo op.

It's pretty obvious who is not cooperating in this photo.

At one point I agreed to help Sophie attempt to maneuver the tennis ball away from Petey by implenting the double-team booty block. (It didn't work.)

Of course, Auntie Jane and I made sure to get some good one-on-one time together. I really think she digs me.

Plus, she gets my sense of humor.

As a ruse to give Asta & I some time together sans hoomans, Sophie feigned fatigue so she could go back to her luxury hotel and Petey invited all of the hoomans over to his house for the evening.

My girl, Sophie's mama Sherry, and Asta's mommi Ami all fell in love with Petey's catbro, Mica.

He's an eldercat, but you'd never know it. He acts like a wee kitten.

He even gave a kiss to Sophie's mama, Sherry.

Now, I'm going to warn you that the following few photos are a little disturbing. They were taken covertly by Mica & Petey, and appear to be a photo essay on hooman goobs who have mistaken one of Petey's squeakies for a party favor. What's really strange is that ALL of the hoomans participated. Could it have anything to do with what they were drinking? You be the judge.

Thanks, Petey. You really did a solid for me & Asta by watching after the hoomans and keeping them out of our fur for awhile. Thanks for running interference for us. We owe you, man!

Goob love,

Stanley

Steroid Flamingo

I have to apologize to all of you for my girl. She has been remiss in helping me visit the blogs of all of my friends, and I thought I was working my way up to never forgiving her until she brought home the most magnificent stuffie I've ever seen.

I KNOW, man! Can you believe it?! My hooman girl really is the premiere stuffie huntress of all time! She finds the most curiously amazing and freakishly large stuffies I could ever imagine. (Some brain-addled hooman pup gave him to a thrift store where my girl simply scooped him up. I don't get hoomans sometimes.)

Since he (my gargantuan flamingo friend) and I have just met, we're going to spend a little time getting to know one another before I give him a name.

Whatdya think? Should I skip the preliminaries and just bestow upon him a goober name already? Maybe Flamoober? Or, do you have a name suggestion for me?

Let me just say that Flamoober has already made it clear that he has NEVER ever taken performance enhancing drugs, nor has he ever dealt with Roid Rage. Don't let the post title fool you into thinking he's enhanced in any way. He's all natural... and he's ALL MINE! (See? He's already willing to cuddle with me. What more could I want?)

Viva la flamingo,

Stanley

Mr. Stuffie Goes to Washington

Gotta say I'm STINKIN' EXCITED that my man, Barack Obama is heading to the White House!

Even though Nelson Mandela already beat me to it, I'm sending President-Elect Obama a note of congratulations on his victory, and a pledge from GooberStan to remain a fierce ally of the United States!

And, as a more experienced statesman, I plan to offer President-Elect Obama one piece of crucial advice...

... When the going gets tough, the tough get... THEIR STUFFIES!!!

I will be selecting one of my favorite stuffies to send to Washington for President Obama's use. Whichever one I send, you can bet it will give its all in the service of such a great leader and a great country. (Also, it can double as a chew toy for the new First Dog, whoever the lucky pup is.)

Congratulations, America!!! You made an excellent choice!

Goober love,

Stanley

Bananananas

We are completely BANANAS around here. Most recently, our hooman girl went so totally Bananas over an accomplishment of mine and Stella's. Finally, after months of work, trying various contraptions and leads, and dragging our girl across the ground face first in front of our neighbors, Stella and I are able to walk with each other and stay out of trouble. All it took was for the girl to let us each have our own leash. Go figure. Now, we get to go on a longer hike each day since she doesn't have to walk both of us separately. And, we even seem to be bonding in a new way. (Go ahead, everydoggie. Say, "Awwww.")

Here is a simulation of what we look like from behind while walking together. The neighbors just laugh and shake their heads at our crazy girl, and at our obvious size difference.

We are also bananas over THIS GUY! He's the real thing, except we can't figure how to peel him.

The presence of my crazy eyes in the photo below is testimony to how BANANAS I am about him!

Of course, Stella got in on the action.





I wanted Mr. Banana's head, so I let Stella have his banana butt.

It was only fitting to grant Stella a little face time with the Nanner Man. (Side note: Stella thinks bananas are called nanners. She sometimes won't come when she is called, but if my girl says anything about nanners, she's there in a FLASH! )

Stella thought that if she could catch the nanner from his head, she'd be able to stuff him in her mouth in one fell swoop. That didn't really work out for her.

She actually rode that banana around the house like he was a little horsey.

At the end of the day, though, Nanner Man is MINE! (*Evil Laugh*)

Going Bananas,

Stanley