Parker, a black dog, hangs out on a white couch (because they no longer make this one and natural cotton was the only color slipcover they had left), which is covered in a slightly greenish fleece blanket (because it has an expected lifespan of two months and cost $3 at Target):
Nothing otherwise notable here.
Oy.
Yes, the dog ate my cell phone case. I really, really want to skip ahead to his second birthday now...
I may have had my fill of snow, but Parker hasn't:
The consensus at the play group yesterday evening was that the warmer weather will turn the park into a mud pit, which the dogs will love almost as much. It's still not April, I guess.
There is one aspect of the snow that Parker won't miss, I think:
Poor guy.
I don't know what Parker was saying to Dexter, but it does look like Dexter is taking the kid under his wing, so to speak:
Also, I'd like to point out that neither of them cared about the -26°C wind chill, but Dexter's dad and I sure did. Pretty sunrise, though:
The ParkerCam is back, and this time, it's personal.
Parker is at home today, but I've decided to give up a little of my own privacy so that he can continue to be famous:
This also lets you, gentle reader, play "where's Parker?" all day. Is he by the door, hidden from view off to the left? Looking out the window? Or just lying on his back with his paws straight up in the air? Around 1pm, you might even get a glimpse of the dog-walking service.
Update: Apparently the upload can be a bit slow, so sometimes the image won't be there when you hit Refresh. I'll try to fix that tonight.
You know, sometimes I forget things. Today, for example, in getting Parker to give my boots back to me and rushing to get to the play group, I forgot the ParkerCam at home.
So, Parker is in the office, but this is probably the only office-puppy shot we'll have today:
And how was the play group? Well, take a look outside Inner Drive World HQ's office window and imagine:
That's the view from 6:40 am CST (1240 UTC). What you can't see clearly are the 42 km/h wind gusts. At least Dexter and Key, two of Parker's big yellow lab friends, made it there.
It's amazing how long the hand puppet has survived, despite Parker's best efforts:
Yes, it's still around, but completely emptied of Hollofil and turned inside-out. This has the interesting side-effect of exposing the squeaky part. Maybe "interesting" isn't the right word, as I didn't feel "interested" in it after Parker spent ten minutes wandering the apartment chomping on it (squeak squeak squeak).
Parker still has some anxiety about the new place, which manifests in an inability to be alone for more than two minutes. Last night he didn't even go into the kitchen without company, for example. So he spent a lot of time barking and whining until I either paid attention to him or followed him into whatever room he wanted to be in at that moment. I still can't decipher the "I'm thirsty" warble from the "I want to go outside" song, but I'm getting better.
At least he's sleeping through the night consistently.
It seemed like the perfect toy: a hand-puppet with extra padding and a squeaky, so that Parker could play with our hands and (a) not really compute that hands are involved and (b) not bite our hands to shreds. When finished with the toy, we put it back in Parker's toy basket.
Well, last night, Parker decided to play with the toy, and as is his wont, he disemboweled it:
Maybe if it had a Kevlar coating it might have lasted longer...
Ordinarily I would not be happy to wake up at 5:15am. Today, however, I was overjoyed, because except for a brief moment around 1:30 when I had to shove Parker's fuzzy butt out of my space (he was laying across the bed almost completely), we both slept through the night.
My hypothesis from yesterday confirmed, I will now spend at least an hour a night running him ragged. It probably helped also that everyone—and I mean, everyone—was at last night's play group: Boo, Scotchie, Hannah, Dexter, Buck, Tucker, Rhea, Tinkerbella, Ross, Finnegan, and the little frumpy dog whose name I can never remember were all there. If Parker's buddies Paris and Brumley had been there, I think we wouldn't have left.
I love Parker. Who wouldn't? I mean, look at him, sleeping so peacefully:
But last night around 2:30am he was neither peaceful nor adorable. In fact, from 2:30 until about 4:30, he whined, chewed my comforter, squeaked a toy repeatedly, barked at random intervals, and went outside twice—without actually descending the stairs into the yard.
By the way, this is the second night in a row that Parker has confused 2:30 with 6:00. If he does it again tonight, I don't know what I'll do, since killing him seems like a bad option.
Actually, I think he's just anxious. He's in a new place, his routine is all messed up (even though I've dilligently gotten my butt, and his, to the play group every morning at 6:30, including yesterday when it was -16°C outside), and he spends all day sleeping.
I hope against all reason that he gets more comfortable in his new home. Tonight, after the 6pm play group, I think we'll just hang out at home and play. In fact, I think we will play non-stop for three hours, until his little beady eyes are rolling from exhaustion and he collapses in a fuzzy ball at the foot of my bed to sleep, like a puppy, through the entire damned night.