Stanley, on Stanley

Since inquiring minds want to know, here's me, expounding on me. Enjoy.

1. Your age? 1 year and 2 months

2. Your age when came to live with your people? 10 months


3. What color is the collar you’re wearing right now? black, red & white swirlies

4. Who is your favorite person other than the people you live with? My Darla Girl

5. How much do you weigh? 80 lbs of pure gooberosity

6. Most expensive thing you’ve ever chewed up? bamboo Roman shades - Pulled them right off the windows when my girl booby-trapped ZZ's crate so I couldn't break him out to play.

7. Do you like other Dogs? Yep! Yep! Yep! Although, I usually don't notice if they don't like me (imagine THAT). I assume they'll eventually come around once they get the full goober experience that is Stanley.

8. Who is your best non-human friend? ZZ my foster Airebrother. My friend, Lady, is a close second.


9. Squeaky Toys or Tennis Balls? Squeakies closely edge out tennis balls - I use squeakies to annoy my cat, Merv.

10. Do you like to be brushed? nope

11. Peanut Butter or Cheese? both, anytime

12. Do your people cut your toenails? I'm too wiggly so the vet has to do it.

13. Any formal education? I too am a home-schooled pup (my girl is teaching me to walk on the leach [leash], to swim, and to have good manners, whatever those are, when I meet new hoomans. She's threatening to sign us up for an obedience class. Don't ask - more later).

14. Couch potato or Energizer Bunny? Depends... I run like the wind and I love my stuffies very athletically, then I fall over and I'm out for the count.




15. Five nicknames your people call you. Goober, Stanman, Stanley Boy, Punk, and of course, Goober Stan.

16. What is your best trick? Getting my girl to still laugh at me even though I've destroyed her living room. (Ask me later about this - see #13).

17. Do you like kitties? I love my Merv, most fervently. Alas, he does not return the sentiment. (*sigh*) Yet.



18. What did you have for breakfast? Kibble and a nana (banana)

19. Can you hunt (aka have you ever killed anything living)? A pink flamingo (hooman girl: it was a plastic pink flamingo)



20. When & why was the last time you went to the V.E.T.? The week after my girl adopted me (about 4 months ago) - for the full work up and some shots. I was fine until they started touching my paws. Then I hugged my girl for dear life! (My paws are a wee bit ticklish).

21. Where do you sleep at night? My girl would like me to sleep with her, but I am too much of a bed buffalo (I roam). So, I sleep on my bed in the living room or on the couch.

22. Do you like to swim? I love to wade up to my neck in water. I'm actually having my first swim lesson today.

23. Can you make puppies? What ingredients do you need for that? (hooman girl here: Nope. He lost his boy bits just before he came to live with me. Wouldn't know it, though.)

24. Do you give kisses? I am selective about kisses. Other dogs get plenty of goober kisses. As for hoomans, my love and enthusiasm gets spread to anyone who notices me, but kisses are for those who please me most.

25. Can you potty on command? Not so much. I go when I like, thanks. Although, I have finally learned it's okay to go when attached to the leach (leash) and when people are watching me.

26. To Cuz or not to Cuz? The closest I've been to a Cuz was in Petsmart. I have insufficient information to answer this question at this time.

If you haven't done this MEME game yet, just copy the questions and paste them into your blog. No fact is too small or too pawsonal.

Thanks, Penny, for starting the game. We love ya, girl!

Love,

Stanley

Deep Thoughts and Haiku

I have had some intensive sessions with Cricket Louise (my life coach) discussing how I'm going to adjust to ZZ's departure for his furrever home. She suggested we talk things out. So, I have spent a lot of time talking with ZZ late into the night about life. Naturally, my thoughts have taken a philosophical turn during the last few days. I've been so preoccupied I hardly hear a word anyone says to me.

Huhh? You talkin' to ME?

Anyway... ZZ wanted me to share with you a couple of deep thoughts I've had. Hopefully they will be of help to you in your time of need.

Deep Thought #1

If you ever drop your squeakies into a river of molten lava, just let 'em go, cuz man, they're gone!

Deep Thought #2

The face of a hooman can say so much... especially the mouth part of the face.

You'll have to excuse me a minute. I need to ask ZZ something.

(whisperwhisperwhisperWHISPERwhisPERwhisperWHISper)

Okay. ZZ has agreed to share with you some of his Airedale Haiku. He wants me to remind everyone that Haiku has 3 lines - 5 syllables, 7 syllables, then 5 syllables again. (Thank you, Professor ZZ). Here's some of his work. It is a series of 4.

In wire crate I sit

Staring at my goob friend, Stan

Will he break me out?

Tummy rubs and hugs

Kisses and booty scratches

Make it feel like home

The hooman girl here

Loves on me like I am hers

And goob boy Stanley's

Stuffies and squeak toys

Wrasslin' and bitey face games

I'll miss GooberStan

Love,

ZZ & Stanley

Wooooo Hooooo!!

HEY DOGS!

ZZ here, and boy, do I have something groovy to smile about!

Word on the street is that some extraordinarily insightful peeps from Michigan felt the love vibe I was sending out over the AIREwaves, and have decided to become my new FUREVER FAMILY!! Some cool specs on my new family: they live out in the country, and they have 5 hooman pups, some horses, and 2 barn cats. There's even talk that they're already fighting over who gets to have me bunk with them first! (Relax, family... plenty of me to go around!)

This calls for a little HAPPY DANCE!

Stanley and I have been pawtying in celebration since I heard the news a few days ago!

One added element that has upped the pawty factor in GooberStan these days has been Stanley's hidden talent for jail breaks. (Hooman girl here: it's true!) Often when our hooman girl leaves the house, Stanley has been working his magic paws to open my crate. The girl always safely shuts me away in the crate when she leaves, and when she gets home, B*I*N*G*O, there I am waiting by the door to greet her. She is totally baffled and just a little freaked.

(Hooman girl: I am more than a little freaked! At first I thought someone was trying to mess with me - to make me think Stanley has superdoggy powers. But, this has been tested under pseudo-scientific conditions and it's true. Stanley keeps changing it up so I never know what to expect when I get home. Sometimes he ends up in the crate instead of ZZ).

While we're out and about in the house, we figured it was time to get in as much tug-of-war as possible. Warning: the results look a little like crime scene photos, so if you have a weak stomach or are particularly sensitive about your stuffie toys, the following video and photos are not for you.

We have decapitated or dismembered a large number of the stuffie toy population in GooberStan. Don't get me wrong. We're definitely NOT anti-stuffie. We are just dogs who love our stuffies a little too much! Here's some of our handywork.

When not loving on the stuffies of GooberStan, we're... WRASTLIN'!

(Notice how I've picked up some of Stanley's moves - if I get tired of him shoving me around the yard backwards, I just lie down and wrastle from that position. Also, just an FYI on Stanley. He looks a little extra fancy in these videos... sometimes he wears his royal collar around the yard. Says it makes him feel more regal. Sheesh! What a GOOB!)





Here's one more wrastlin' vid. I love it because it shows you just how vain Stanley is about his booty. He's quite fond of it and thinks it's one of his best features. Notice how he keeps pointing it toward the camera. (Come to think of it, it may be his best side. What do you think, Liberty?)






I'm not splittin' this scene just yet. (My travel agent is still working on details). Even though the road to my new home may take me away from GooberStan, it cannot take the sweet sweet memories Stanley, the girl, and I have made together!


Stanley has even given me a lifetime apointment to his cabinet. I am the Secretary of Pawmerce for GooberStan (I will promote paw-to-paw relations between Stanley and the non-GooberStanian world). I thought I'd never have an establishment job, but I'd do anything for my best bud, Stan.



Love, Peace, and a lifetime of good stuffies!

Your Goob at-large,

ZZ

Buzzed

A couple of days ago my girl loaded me into the car (sans ZZ) and said we were going to see my buddies Sassy, Mackie, and Dova. I thought to myself, "Cool. I love playing with those guys. Let's hit the road!"

Here I am yucking it up with Dova and Sassy (in front), blissfully unaware of the fate that was about to befall me.

My girl told me she had brought us to their house so she could get her first Airedale grooming lesson from Terry (mom to Sassy, Mackie, and Dova). You'd think having had a couple of Airepups before me she would have learned to do that before now, but whatever, lady. Have at it. I'm settling in for some good playtime with my pals.

Mackie Boy was having a fine time, albeit, on his own without us.

Sassy was all grins and giggles.

Dova... well he was just a little confused.

Little did I know that my girl had plans for me of which I knew not. While I was feeling sorry for the poor sucker she was taking her clippers to for the first time, she informed me that I was going to be her hair model.

Here's my do before she buzzed me.

Here's my do after she buzzed me.

See the 2 cowlicks on my chest (no, she did not buzz me bald in 2 places - these bald spots were already there under my very thick & wirey chest hair)? Weird, huh? Who knew?

Needless to say, I'm feeling a little exposed!

Freezing in GooberStan,

Stanley

Cricket Louise, CLC

I want to introduce you all to Cricket Louise, CLC (Certified Life Coach) and all-around puppy fashionista! Actually, she is MY life coach (some of you have been asking about that). Don't let her diminutive size fool you. She is a force to be reckoned with! Find out all about her and her active practice as a K9 life coach at her new blog.

Warning: objects in the following photos may appear larger than they are.

Cricket could totally be a model, but she has given up the big bucks to pursue a life of selfless sacrifice.

Cricket is such a good listener (who wouldn't be with bat ears like these?). She gives me honest and straight-forward feedback on all life issues, both public and private!

Often, you'll find her at her office making appointments or catching up with clients via phone and the internet. (The hooman hand in the photo is that of her lovely assistant and mom).









But this girl also knows how to kick back and relax. Her motto is, "What's the point of flowers if you don't stop to smell them, then pee on them?" I owe my healthy emotional life, in part, to her tireless efforts. She's amazing!




Here's to K9 mental health.


Love,

Stanley

Baseball? Are You Kidding Me?

Last night I went to the ballpark with my girl.

She said there's nothing finer on a cool summer evening than to kick back, grab some sunflower seeds, and watch a baseball game. Hmmm. Balls. Parks. Sunflower seeds. Sounded promising.

I soon found that this ballpark was a great place to be seen and admired. Turns out that baseball fans of all ages stopped by to shower my curly and generally cute self with love and affection. Snippets of conversation floated by as the more timid hoomans passed... "Look at that big cutie pie!" "Whoa! That's a big boy!" and "Hey, is he an Airedale?" There were two toy poodles on the scene, but they camped out and slept under their hooman's chair. Amateurs...

Hey. Have we met yet?

I did find, however, that while the atmosphere of the ballpark is intoxicating, the actual game of baseball is not at all what I was expecting. First off, they cut you off from the balls with a big wire fence. (Something about having to be on the team to play). Then when one of these so-called team members gets the ball, they get rid of it as fast as they can, and don't seem the least bit interested in sniffing, licking, or chewing on it. I just can't abide by that kind of disrespect to a ball. So I found other ways to amuse myself. After inspecting my girl's bag, I discovered the most amazingly tasty nuggets of salty goodness... SUNFLOWER SEEDS!

A guy can only take so much admiration before he gets a little peckish. I rummaged around a bit more and found my girl had a couple of lonely fortune cookies in her bag. I put on my sad face, lovingly placed my paw on her arm, and presto! Instant gratification (with a personal fortune to boot).

My first ever fortune cookie.







Checking out my fortune.







Here I'm trying to get a different angle on the fortune. My girl keeps getting in the way.

Oh yeah, my lucky numbers are 9 11 46 41 30 and 3.

The kid I went to see play baseball is my friend, Noah. He's a cocky 14-year-old hooman pup who thinks he's already a grown dog (he's almost there). I have absolutely no photos of him here - he's entirely too fast for the camera. But, he has a teammate who has the greatest name. GOOBER! Yep, that's right. I think his original name was Cole or something equally boring, but his hoomans and teammates all call him Goober. If you look really closely in the photo above you can see a kid in the upper left corner. THAT'S HIM! Obviously, there are loyal subjects of GooberStan wherever you go.










Despite my disappointment with the game of baseball, I had a relaxing evening of good snacks, sweet affection, and comraderie with my people. I still don't get it though. They should rename this game "Standing-around-scratching-ourselves-until-we-have-to-get-rid-of-the-ball-ball, instead of calling it BASEBALL. Sheesh!



Loving life in GooberStan,

Stanley

Flamingos Beware

So. I found me a flamingo.

Actually, I killed me a flamingo... I think.

There I was minding my own business when this giant, pink-winged creature flies over my executive office (the backyard). I bark at it in salute, and it falls dead out of the sky - with NO LEGS! All I can guess is that the sound waves from my massive bark of greeting were simply too powerful, and knocked that flamingo off his flight pattern and right into my yard. He must have been pretty scared, because his body was completely petrified (hard as fine plastic) by the time he hit the ground.

I thought for a moment, "Is someone trying to mess with me here?", and I checked in with my cameragirl. But then I realized that if I didn't snatch him up quick-like, someone else would. So I decided to rescue him from his certain fate in the trash can. (I wonder if he knew any of the flamingos who used to pose in front of the house by the bushes...)

I wasn't about to leave him in the yard to rot, (and who wants to let a good flamingo go to waste?) so I brought him into the house and settled in for some good chewing.

Mmmmmm. (*Licking lips in ecstacy*) I hope nobirdy is waiting for him to arrive somewhere. (*Slathering the flamingo with Stanley slime*) Is there a hotline I could call to make a petrified flamingo notification?

Love,

Stanley

Lady Bug - Dancing Queen

I had a blast this weekend with ZZ! We topped all of our round-the-clock playtime with a meeting of the Airedales at my fave pup park. I'm too pooped to write much about it now (and my girl forgot her camera). Mostly, I have been doing a lot of this...

and this...

and this...

while ZZ has been doing this.

There is really only one of my buddies who could motivate me enough to get my dragging puppy butt out of bed, and that's my gal pal, Lady. (Notice the little devil hair horns on top of her head - hehehe).

My nickname for her is Lady BUG because she loves to eat bugs, and she can be a bit of a pest sometimes. That said, she is a very sweet girlie! Her mom always says, "She's not very bright, but she sure is sweet." Let me tell you, folks, Lady has her mom and practically everyone else completely fooled. Everyone around here may think she is a doofy clueless pup, but she only acts that way, she says, so noone will ever expect very much out of her. Actually she is a Roads Scholar (knows every street in town) and can be quite clever IF she wants to.

If Lady comes over it usually means one of two things: she's either a) snooping around my personal life, or b) giving me my dance lesson. I'm absolutely CRAZY about dancing, so of course, the prospect of a little free dance lesson from Lady got me out into the yard.

First, she just HAD to meet ZZ.

Once they established that she's WAY BOSSY, and that he wasn't up for a dance lesson, she and I took a lap around the yard to warm up.

Then she showed me a new warm-up stretch.

Then it was time for my lesson. On today's agenda - breakdancing. (Notice how she plays to the camera just before she goes into her moon walk).

After that, she went all country on me and tried to show me the Booty Scootin' Boogie.

At that point I pretty much lost interest in the lesson and moved on to bigger and better things. She knows I hate country ...

Dancing tall & carrying a big stick,

Love,

Stanley

My New Boy Toy

My girl went out for a few hours today. When she came back I was hoping she at least remembered to bring me something to chew on, and she did! She brought me a new boy toy. Here he is.

His name is Zevon, but I like to call him ZZ.

He is a homeless Aireboy who is going to bunk with me until we can find him his real home. While he is much more mature than I am (he's 2 years old), and not nearly the goober I am, he is still somewhat...

Gooberesque.

We immediately hit it off (not something that always happens with a new roomie), and play-fought each other far into the night. My hooman girl had to physically separate us so we could get some shut-eye.

Here are a few video clips of our exploits...

Notice how I do all the work while ZZ cooly surveys my fighting prowess.

This is what I call my VHS combination move. It stands for Vogue, Hump, and Shove.

This next clip is of really poor quality (my girl's still learning), but if you watch carefully you'll see my double drop and roll move. (The hyena-like laughter you hear in the background is, of course, my girl).

In this clip ZZ sounds like an alien from another galaxy (a little reminiscent of Chewbacca). I am the lazy one putting my fighting moves on ZZ from the supine position.

Finally, this is ZZ and I getting in one last fighting romp before the girl forces us to our separate corners for the night.

Of course, I want ZZ to stick around in GooberStan as long as possible, but deep down I know he's wanting to be with HIS OWN FAMILY as soon as possible. If you are interested in adopting ZZ (Zevon), or want to find out more about other Airedales who are looking for their forever homes, check out Airedale Terrier Rescue & Adoption (ATRA). There are plenty of furry faces out there to go around.

Love,

Stanley & ZZ (the boy toy)