It's getting hot in here....

...so I took off all my clothes - hmmm, my leash. But it was still sooo hot here in New York today, that daddy thought it could be a good idea to take me for a swim. I am mean, is he serious?!

I am a hunter, not a swimmer. I am not Michael Phelps or Mark Spitz, in fact, I hate water. I don't leave the house when it rains, I only take a bath when I stink like a pig and mommy drags me in the shower, I walk a big circle around puddles on the street.

Me swimming with daddy.

So when daddy lured me close to that puddle of water in his buddy's yard - I tried my best to get away from it. I hid in the bushes, pretended to be sniffing something interesting on the lawn. But eventually he got me and dipped me in - paws, belly, tale and all - under protest as I would like to point out. And I literally swam for my life! OK, I admit, he held me more than I was swimming and swimming might be the wrong word, paddling might be better....I mean, I don't have web feet, so what was he thinking!?

But you have to admit that I look quite elegant in the water - like a young Esther Williams I'd like to think

But why is it, that I had to get all wet and daddy only dangled his feet in the water? I will have to do more research on that.

Until then, stay cool!

Boot Camp

On my way to Boot Camp

You have probably been wondering what I have been up to these last couple of weeks. Well, it seems that my behavior around the house gave reason to put me in a Puppy Boot Camp for eight weeks. Mom and dad called it "Puppy Kindergarten", but there was actually no fun for me involved!

Once a week (during my normal dinner time!), they put me in the car (on a freakn' harness!) and drove me to Camp. It said "Happy Dog Training and Behavior" on the sign, but trust me, there was nothing happy in it for me. I was on a leash the whole time, was not allowed contact with the other inmates (mostly younger criminals, I was the oldest of the bunch) and the Camp supervisor, Ellen - who was actually really nice. but kind of strict! -, gave all the moms and dads instructions on how to torture us puppies with exercises as stupid as sit, down, come, no-pull-walking - I mean, I know how to do all of this, I just don't want to! Who wants to walk nicely on a leash if there is bird poop to sniff, grass to eat, cats and squirrels to chase and school buses to bark at. Serious!. I just wanted to play with the others. But no, we had to even practice this stuff at home for hours and hours. 

Me and mom at release from Boot Camp - or what they call "graduation

At least provision was good: They gave us steak, cheese, pork chops and even peanut butter filled bones!. Most of the time in Camp I didn't really pay attention to what the Ellen said, I just tried to figure out how to get to the food without the stupid sit, down, come thing.

Maybe that's why I was voted "Student of the week" only once - I must have done a great job with my "down" or something. That day, it was just so freakn' hot outside, it was better to lay down than to run after the other inmates.

Anyway, long story short. They released me from Camp - the humans called it graduation - I got a big milk bone and now I can go back to writing you more often.

Wait, what was that? I just heard I am going back for "Family Dog 1"?! What else can they teach me? Am I not perfect already?