His Name Should Have Been Trouble

The Adventures Of Mr. H and His 2 Legged Best Friend.

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Mr. H Hikes

I've determined Mr. H in his adolescence has deemed it a great game to throw everything he can at me to see which event will kill me. I can't remember if I mentioned it but the stinker had damaged my wrist when we went swimming in the pond with Jakai and Mary. In the day time he attacks my brace holding my poor damaged sprained wrist until I take it off where he sets forth on his version of PT; make mom do everything she can with her injured wrist. Oh, he says innocently, you didn't want me to eat that treat? Should have moved your hand faster. Was that your wrist popping as I yank you down the street after a bunny? He coos. Oh look! I'm doing the naughty thing and jumping on the counters. You want to pick me up? It requires two hands... He quips. I simply glare and take up his challenges because I'm a) insane, b) stupid, and c) a total sucker for pain apparently. So today we went on another hike with Jakai and Mary to which, after a lovely walk, Mr. H deemed it great fun to yank me down the trails at a speedy run after a dip in a creek. Oh, look! Mud! He cries as we go splashing through it. Branches! With stickers! Hurrah! He crows. Look! A 45 degree hill! Let's run up it! He shouts. Meanwhile I'm enviously eyeing Jakai as she delicately picks her way through the trail. Why can't my dog be like that? I wonder. Oh, I tell myself as he yanks me down another path through the bush some rabbit has taken, yeah he's a puppy. That's why. But not to be a naysayer Mr. H did show off his nose skills by tracking us towards water and as we were heading back we got on a trail Mr. H and I had once walked. Since the seasons had changed a bit and while I was 90% sure of my direction, I asked him to find home to test his scent work. And what do you know, he put his nose to the ground and tracked back to the path and to the car! I'm sure tonight he's reliving the fun of yanking me up and down hills, through spikey branches and sharp grass, and wondering just how he'll finally get me to go down some of the ravines we found. Or I should say, yank me down it.

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Mr. H after a great day hiking with friends. He somersaulted into this position.

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Tunnel Fun

Today Mr. H and I practiced our command "tunnel". This is a fairly simple command which means "run through that circular thing and come out the other side". Of course, Mr. H must make this a fairly complex thing. So he knows "tunnel" when on leash. If held back from the tunnel and commanded, he will run through it even with a choice of going around it. But since this requires another two legged person and we had none, we made due by ourselves. This was a bad idea. Why? Because while my idea of placing a treat at one end of the tunnel and pulling Mr. H back to the other end was brilliant, I did not think to secure the tunnel on our somewhat slope-y backyard, and so Mr. H managed to turn the tunnel into a big tumbling wheel. Whoops. Handler Fail. Anyways, once we decided to just rest the tunnel against the fence at the BOTTOM of the slope, Mr. H was fine running through the tunnel. Until he decided it would be fun to stop in the middle of it and sit down until he got his reward. Ever tried coaxing a puppy out of the middle of an 18 foot tunnel? No? Well lemme tell you those openings are NOT human friendly. Makes you feel like the stuffing in sausage and Lord help you if your hips get stuck because you will be wearing that tunnel until someone can cut you out of it. Not that this is based on first hand knowledge. No, not at all. So after retrieving the stubborn Mr. H, I decided to give up practicing "tunnel". As I dejectedly made my way up to the house, I hear a rustling that sounds a whole lot like a puppy running through a tunnel.... But it couldn't be... And yet it is. I turned to see a speeding Mr. H make a few loops through the tunnel only to come and sit at my feet with a big ole goofy grin on his face. "Look mom! I did it!" He seemed to say. "And you just couldn't do it on command, could you?" I replied. "No chicken for dessert." And he happily bounced into the house to eat pilfered Doritos for dessert. Sigh.

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Oh Mr. H does love to play dirty.

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Swimming Like Dogfish

Today our friends Jakai and her two legged BFF Mary joined us at the nature preserve for a walk and a little dip in a pond. Within moments of watching Jakai rush into the water Mr. H was bounding in after her, jumping and splashing and trying to catch the spray with his mouth. Can we adorbs???? Albeit some little... Uh, timing problems with catching the spray, Mr. H still gave it a very enthusiastic try, splashing not water but the lurking mid near the steep bank on me in the process. After quickly switching him to a long line, Mr. H just as quickly took off after his pal Jakai and started SWIMMING. Damn dog took one step into deep waters and a second later was paddling after Jakai like he had been doing it all his life. While I was amazed, proud, enthusiastic, stunned, all those super bouncy verbs a fur mom should be when her fur kid does something amazing, I was also going, "you little stinker - you get swimming in two seconds but not eating my shoes takes how many months???" Chalk it up to inhibition versus enjoyment I suppose. Well the pups had a glorious time swimming, pulling huge sticks out of the mud, retrieving sticks, and Mr. H generally play dancing to entice Miss Jakai to play with him. While I tried not to wince at the thought of him eating the water logged, algae encrusted wood on the sticks, drinking the dirty water, and wondering how I was gonna explain another possible round of parasites to his vet ("but he learned how to swim in two seconds!" I'd cry), I did utterly enjoy Mr. H's unbridled joy at playing in the pond. There's something just so... Awesome at seeing him sprint around the pond (and recall at 150 feet thank you very much!) and oozing joy at the very concept of dashing into water. To see him so frantically and happily try to engage Jakai in play and it pay off. It was contagious! Well, as contagious until the happily little mud ball got a bath. He was less enthused about being sprayed with water and soap then he was water and mud.

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He likes to make this face at me. Every day.

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He Ate What? Episode 1

Yesterday began the Day of the Hyper Puppy. Oh yes. I should have known I was in trouble when after coming home from an adventure at the park, Mr. H quickly ran into the kitchen and upon claiming the counter as his, promptly ate one of the poppy seed muffins that sat oh so nicely in the pan. Being used to such acts, I ninja chopped it from his mouth and then played "Fish the Food" out of his mouth. I'm very good at that game.

But upon having tasted Nirvana, Mr. H decided human food was just too good to NOT try again. And he did. After dinner he led me on a wild goose chase of hyper puppy (or maybe he was still high from some errant poppy seeds, who knows?) around the house which turned out to be an elaborate act to get me to drop my guard so he could ninja pounce on my cheesecake.

Oh, my poor cheesecake.

Let's talk about this cheesecake for a moment shall we? I don't often get the craving for cheesecake but last night at dinner it was screaming my name from the battered dessert case. So I indulged. I took that bad boy home to enjoy in the privacy of my own home and as not to scare away the other customers from my moaning of the pure awesomeness of it. And boy was I ever so happy I did. It was creamy, moist, and the perfect balance of sweetness, creaminess, and graham cracker crust. I was in Heaven! 

And then I put it down to deal with Hyper Mr. H, which looked a heck of a lot like a mini tornado, and forgot I had left it in prime Puppy Poaching territory on our counter.

My bad. I forgot you own the counters AND the floor AND the walls Mr. H.

So I turned and see Mr. H gulping down the last half of my glorious sight of cheesecake. Emotions flickered through my mind as I moved to put him into a headlock any WWE wrestler would be envious of and play "Fish the Food" from his mouth again. I was mad he ate MY cheesecake, scared the cheesecake would hurt him, disappointed I couldn't finish MY cheesecake, worried it would set off our hard won poo problems into more goopy messes, and among other conflicting emotions, happy I didn't have to deal with the guilt about the excess calories. But by the time I finished getting as much as I could out of Mr. H's mouth, I was fine. Just another win for Mr. H.

And then he smacked his lips.

He smacked his lips. And the anger came back. That JERK ate MY cheesecake. I didn't know when or how, but I swore one day I would get revenge for my cheesecake.

Now, having had the taste of ambrosia and Nirvana, Mr. H set off on a mission today. To eat as many human items as possible. So while I was fishing all kinds of Things Puppies Shouldn't Eat out of his mouth, he did get away with a few nice ones. Like the muffin wrapper of one of the late poppy seed muffins from yesterday. Perhaps a bit of Hersey's Milk Chocolate. A snuff of fried chicken crumbs. A bite of a sponge mop, which I saved after a long few minutes of easing it out of his mouth. 

I've created a monster. I fear what sad item Mr. H sets his eyes on next. Though if he tries to eat my chocolate, there will be hell to pay. I will take away his favorite squeaky ball. ...Maybe.

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Hello World

This is the first step in chronicling Mr. H's adventures in this big world called Life. His adventures are so big, so insane, so… weird… it deserves a little piece of the cyber world to share.

Mr. H, nicknamed Trouble, is a brindle beast of four legs, two large ears, curious nose, and wickedly fast paws. His is known for his quickness across kitchens, by his teeth to those holding precious treats, by his kangaroo-like jumps to those evil men called trash collectors, and by reputation only to those who don't know him. He, much like his favorite idle, the Dos Equuis Man, are known to all even if he does not know him.

As his guardian and best pal on two legs, I have decided to take up some awesome advice and start chronicling this crazy dog's adventures; because people will not believe how many times he goes to the vet for something weird. Seriously. We're on a first name basis with everyone and I barely have to finish saying who I am before they go, "oh, Mr. H!" So with an eternal sigh and hand ready to face palm, I will begin to write down Mr. H's Adventures.