Monthly Archives

September 2011


Save the date, everybody: Oct 15

The Big Fat Welsh Puppy Eval Party is set – October 15 (Saturday) 1:00 PM to whenever I throw you out after dark. Come cuddle puppies, give me your opinions, and eat some good hot chili and cold cider.

I really do mean everybody – if you’re in the New England area, are a breeder or a trainer or want to know more about Cardigans and you want to come, COME. Drop me a line so I know how many pots of soup to make, but this is very much an Open House and I want to meet you.

Local puppy buyers, we’ve probably talked about this, but come early if you want to see the evaluation process. Come later in the day if you don’t want to bite your fingernails as people measure the millimeters between a puppy’s elbow and his ribbing.

My house is small, but we’ll all find places to perch a bowl and cuddle a puppy – goodness knows there are enough to go around.

See you there!


Five Weeks: Puck! (finally)

Yes, it’s finally me.

I was having a bad day when they were taking the stump pictures; I was sound asleep and they woke me up and put me on the stump and my face said WHATTHEHECKSTUMP the whole time.

So they promised when I was having a better day I’d get my whole long post with more pictures than anyone else.

This time they put me on a stone wall and told me to look pretty. And then they took two hundred pictures to get eight that did not have a crazy expression on my face.

Joanna says that whenever she looks at me all she can hear is a chorus of kazoos.

I have no idea what she is talking about.

My love for the stone wall is not strong. Every time they put me up there I would get really mad and jump off and then bite their feet super hard. And then I’d run around in circles and drag sticks around and root in the dirt.

This is me immediately after foot biting and dirt rooting. I don’t think I took enough revenge, honestly.

Because they kept putting me on the wall until I made the Sad Sad Face of Sadness.

So here’s the deal. I have more personality than I deserve and I am the kissiest puppy ever. I will kiss you and kiss you and then put both of my front feet on your face to hold you down so I can kiss you more.

I’m also really, really confident. Not crazy like Moth – holy heck, that girl is on crack – but when I was jumping around today after I got off the wall I ran right into a plant. So I tried to jump through the plant. Then when the plant wouldn’t move I grabbed it and pulled it right up out of the ground and it was about two feet tall and I dragged it over to Joanna and dropped it triumphantly¬†and then bit her foot again.

After that I decided to eat a raspberry plant. And it stuck its stickers in my tongue. So I spit that leaf out and grabbed another one. And it hurt me too. So then I got all Hulk on it and destroyed the entire raspberry plant even though it was making my tongue cry. Then I bit Joanna’s foot again.

Look out – I’m heading off the stone wall again. Cover your feet, ’cause I’m coming!



Five weeks: Quince!

I’m the baby.

They couldn’t even take my picture sitting up because all I want to do is be held and as soon as you put me down I try to walk toward you and then I fall off the bad bad stump and that’s so mean to babies.

If you walk by the box where I live with an obscene number of siblings and brother-uncles, the others will be happy to see you, but I am the only one who will bark at you until you pick me up, and then stare adoringly at you because I am the baby.

This is what I look like, sort of; you can’t really see my face well because I am trying to use the Force to make people pick me up.

My tail is the one that was born bent. People told me that it would straighten, and it did.

Unfortunately, it straightened the wrong way. It grew in a tiny loop. It looks like I am trying to sign my own name with the end of my tail.

But everyone knows that what I am actually saying is please let me be your baby.



Five weeks: Ignatius!

Hey, I’m Iggy.

My chief claim to fame is being mixed up with Bosco a lot and also having a speck in my collar. Nobody could even remember my name for about a week; they just called us Smally and Neck Spot. So offensive!

Hey, it’s not my fault that we were the smallest boys – look at me now! I’m gorgeous!

I mean, come on! This is some hunka little boy dog right here.

Come on over here and kiss my nose. I’ll make it worth your while.



Five weeks: Bosco!

Hey. I got shafted this week because Joanna got me and Iggy mixed up and didn’t realize she only had two good pictures of me. TYPICAL.

Doesn’t she know that I’m the puppy who started it all? The one who got put on Juno first and thus began this incredible cumulative parenting experience? I guess she’s forgotten that under this mild-mannered exterior lives a puppy ready to take on the world.

Or at least take on the process of not biting my own lip!

What? Those are my markings that just make me look like I have a perpetual toothache? AH! The universe HATES me this week.


Five weeks: Titania!

But first, a word from our sponsors. Looking for a little snack to keep you going when you’re exhausted from looking at baby puppy pictures? May we suggest Chicken On A Plate? Enjoyed by happy families everywhere!

(No chickens were harmed in the making of this commercial. Chicken wrangling provided by Honour Kimball, who has spent countless hours teaching tiny chickens to do tricks.)

Now back to our program…

Beautiful, tiny Titania.

She’s as healthy as a horse and doesn’t take any crap from anybody, but she’s obviously headed for MAYBE 23 or 24 pounds as an adult. She is absolutely precious.

Titania is singlehandedly responsible for 50% of the unintelligible baby talk being spoken right now in the Western Hemisphere. I am DOING IT RIGHT NOW, and all I’m looking at is her picture!

I wuv you, ickle bickle baby.



Five weeks: Moth (so Dave can go to sleep)!


There is nobody else like meeee!

I sing a theme song about me while I’m running around thinking about me and my superpowers which were given to me by ME!

Sit still? Me? I will tell you what I think of sitting still.

Tell me – is it dreadfully hard for you, not being me? Because I am pretty much ME, and that means pretty much THE BEST, and I figured out your social security number already and I’m going to go order myself a carbon fiber dog bowl and a tool belt and a grappling hook and they’re all going to be monogrammed with pink letters that say ME.Good with you? OK, thought so.



Five weeks:

Zeno was described by the family that will probably end up with him as being an old soul.

I think they are exactly right.

He’s a thinker and a talker, all the time.

He’s even got old-man chest hair right now, which makes him look hilarious.

He’s not a showoff like some of the others; he would rather toodle along and smell the flowers.

And if he occasionally gets his lip stuck in his dentures, well, we can’t all be perfect.



Five weeks: Bernard!

Hello, ladies.

I’m the dog your dog could smell like.

Look at your dog.

Now back at me.

Now back at him, then back at me.

I know I just heard you whistle.



Five weeks: Hedwig!

Hedwig not only has some of the coolest face markings I’ve ever seen (square on one side, triangle on the other – how awesome is that?), she’s got a nature as sweet as her face.

I think her personality is the most like her dad’s – gentle, a little goofy, not ever making a big deal of herself. When we were taking photos she lay down calmly and looked up, put her ears up, let me get a few frames, and then was done. Didn’t want to sit, didn’t want to be fussed over.

We think we know where she’s headed, unless she surprises me and makes herself into a show puppy (right now she’s very cobby and I think she’s telling me she’d rather not, but the next three weeks can certainly change a lot). If we’re right, she’s going to have exactly the life a sweet gentle girl deserves.