Category Archives: tails & paws

Anything having to do with animals, but most likely it will be about dogs.

…and the stuffing shall flow like wine…

Seeing as Moose rapidly tore through his lion and then subsequently an elephant (so quickly, I didn’t even get to take a picture of it)… we finally broke out his squeaky beaver.  All plump and furry, he couldn’t help but nuzzle the hell out it.  Almost two days in he hasn’t even disrupted a moist little hair on his snuggle buddy.

Of course, he is still prancing to and fro with it, placing it on his pillow and even setting it right next to his food dish when he eats–which is incredibly gross seeing as much as that dog drools and drops when he eats.  I had initially thought that the beaver wouldn’t make its debut until close to the civil war, but with those sorrowful brown eyes peeking up at me from underneath his cockeyed ear… how could I say no.  Plus, I’ll get some pre-civil war game pictures of a Great Dane mauling a beaver.   Christmas comes early:

…like a candle in the wind…

As all things must, Moose’s beloved lion has been tossed from the mortal coil (well, actually into the garbage). O, how those that are loved the hardest, leave us the quickest. Apparently, soft little legs and feet can only be nibbled on for so long until they give way and their vital stuffing starts to flow. Little pieces of lion were starting to appear in many different areas. Foot stuffing in the kitchen, leg stuffing in the bedroom, and torso stuffing in the living room. At one point, to try and stem the flow of the stuffing, I was forced to amputate one of the lion’s legs. Moose was so worried, he couldn’t watch. Sadly, this amputation only stopped the habitual chewing of the leg and led to feverish chewing of the torso hole of where the leg had been. Then… the lion was just overtaken, deflated from the constant love and nibbles. We put the lion to rest in the kitchen garbage can while Moose was outside. This way, he would be spared from the torment of knowing his little chew buddy was in the can, as well, if he did find out, that’s the only garbage can with a lid, so he couldn’t exhume him for later loving.

Don’t despair, dear reader, as Moose is soon to be given a bigger love-buddy, a beaver in fact. With more promises of stuffing, Moose’s pain and mourning will be once again replaced with bouncing and the happy nibbling of beaver tail.

The Moose, the Lion and the Wardrobe

This past weekend, Jess and I were over in the ‘Burn for my mom’s birthday weekend extravaganza spectacular.  Of which it lived up to its name.  While we were there my mom was trying to pawn off some of their new toys that they have for their dog Tolley.  Now don’t get me wrong, Tolley is a wonderful dog and deserves every little thing he gets, but that dog is spoiled rotten.  There are hidden caches of toys that would normally go to kids, but no, they are reserved for the furry among us.  These toys are stuffed animals, ranging from squirrels and birds, to beavers and stretched out puppies.  Graciously, my parents offered us a couple of toys for Moose because he loves Tolley’s toy so much (he seems to love them more when Tolley has them… or at least loves the opportunity to take them away from him).

Moose came home with a lion that sort of roars and laughs, and a beaver that squeaks.  Ever since we got home, Moose has been completely enthralled and enamored with his lion.  From the moment it came out of the bag, he has been carrying it around gingerly, being very gentle (except for the times when he tries to pluck out the hair of its mane).  When it roars/laughs he bounces around the room then runs into the dinning room and back again, and I mean literally, every time.  When he’s leaned up against the coach and starts to feel tired, his head dropping to the floor, he still doesn’t release his beloved lion.  It sits comfortably (and moistly) in his mouth.

Moose also puts the lion to bed.  I thought it was just an accident at first, but this lion has more rights to Moose’s beds than Moose gives himself.  On the first night that Moose had his lion, I noticed that it was sitting in the middle of his bed in the living room, I figured that it was merely dropped or kicked there.  Then, when I was getting read for bed, I walked into the bedroom to see Moose drop his lion onto his bed and then circle around it.  This was all very cute and funny until the middle of the night when he would shift his weight and we would hear, “ahhhhh ROOOOOAAAAAAAR AHA HAHA HAHAHA!”  It took me at least three times to figure out what it was.  Even tonight, Moose plopped his moist little love-buddy down and circled up in bed.  But what can I say, everyone needs to find that special someone… for some of us, it’s a three inch moist talking lion.

And I notice there’s a sign of rain

It’s about time–in March no less. Now to go for a walk with the pooch and do absolutely nothing all day.

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Moose in flight, going after a snowball

I’m tellin’ ya it just hurt my feet to walk now

In a similar vein as Gabe’s most recent post, Moose is now officially neutered. He went in on Wednesday at eight in the morning and we got him back at three that afternoon. Moose is doing well, not that he noticed that anything is missing.

I guess that when Jess went to pick the pooch up, he was barking so loud, she could hear him from the back of the vet’s office. Apparently, he had been barking since the moment the anesthesia wore off. The vet told Jess that once she got Moose home to see if he can drink a little bit of water, if he could keep it down. When she did get Moose home he drank a little bit of water and ate an entire bowl of food. So much for being effected by his surgery.

Because of his surgery, we were not able to take Moose to Bend this weekend, so Jess went with her sister and I stayed back with the dog. Pratt drove down to the Grove where we dined on beer and marveled at NCAA College Football 2006, of which I trounced Pratt’s Kingston Kites with my Salt Lake State University Shakers in Morton Stadium. We had the couch pulled all the way up TV as to not miss a single pixel of the game.

Saturday morning Pratt was gracious enough to accompany me to downtown Springfield to pick up a desk. Two weeks ago, Jess and I were in a store and saw this old oak desk, Jess really liked the desk but we didn’t have the truck yet so there was no way to bring it back to the Grove in her civic without strapping it to the roof, which would have made some serious dents. Since Jess was gone, I thought I’d pick up the desk and surprise her. Although I was having some serious doubts when we were putting the desk in the truck, the desk did fit (quite easily) into the house, down the hallway and into the office. I spent most of Saturday night unloading a bookshelf, fixing the bookshelf, and then reloading the bookshelf so the desk would fit without blocking the heater… just my silly obsession with not having my house on fire. After that, I loaded up Jess’ old desk with the stuff from her old desk.

Waiting until Sunday afternoon to spring my surprise was painful, when she would call I would inevitable almost slip up and tell her that I had her desk already—which would have been hard to back out of. “Uh, what I meant is… uh, I put a wood polish on it for you. Yeah, that’s the ticket.” When Jess did finally arrive, she was completely surprised which made it incredibly fun for me to watch her reaction. I definitely think I should buy her desks more often.

I stole a Chevy and I wrapped it ’round a tree

 Jess and I took a trip to the bank, sounds thrilling, I know. We were in there for about fifteen minutes, when we came back out we notice the Moose was in the way back of my car. As Jess opened her door, she says, “Chris, did you remember to take the steak out last night?” My answer was a noncommittal “I think so.” She disagreed with my recollection, her proof being that there was a big piece of tenderloin, sitting on the back seat. I then opened the rear of my car, so see my dog, standing over an opened (and warm) package of steak. The dog must have headed straight for it as we walked in to the bank. The spoiled pup thought that this twelve-dollar package for USDA Choice cut beef was his mid car-ride snack. I ended up having to throw away two pounds of steak in the ashtray outside of the bank. I’m sure that will give somebody some pause.

Here’s really what the post about Wednesday is about:

Deer versus car, versus my car, versus the car that t-boned us at 55 miles an hour

There in my truck the dog and I

I know y’all are chomping at the bit for Moose updates, well here’s one for you. He’s 56 pounds of weird…

Jess and I took the pup to the vet yesterday for his last round of shots. I’ve never seen a dog be afraid of having is mouth wiped with a paper towel, then turn around and take two shots between the shoulder blades without making a sound or flinching.

In one month, our little pup will become our little ‘eunuch’ pup. He’s scheduled to have one of the worst Christmas gifts ever. Personally, I’d rather take a lump of coal. Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t get the choice.

Everyday is a winding road

My Thursday:

So… I finally talked myself into it, I got my big butt up at 5:15 in the morning and got dressed for a run. I tied my house key onto my drawstring of my shorts, and I was all set to take off for about 30 minutes. As I opened the door and headed out, i saw this gray thing dart towards me from across the street. I realized it was the puppy from across the street. Apparently, he had slipped under the new fence that they had just put in yesterday afternoon… I guess it wasn’t low enough… or high enough, if the dog has a seven-foot vertical leap. The puppy, Jax, was crying and whimpering when he got to me. I picked him up and he was shaking pretty good, so I think he slipped out early in the morning… to confirm this, there were a plethora of muddy puppy prints on their front door.

Being the knight in shining Adidas shorts, that I am, I take him over in my arms and knock on their door for 15 minutes. nothing. Head back to the house, wake up Jess… tell her that Jax is here and now that Moose has seen him, they’re both itching to have an early morning doggie rave. She keeps them busy while I do a reverse phone number look up… no phone number. I do 411, no phone number. I do the CG police… yeah, no phone number. I head back over to their place, Jax once again in my arms–I bang as hard as I can, wondering how these people can sleep through this. Well, apparently, they weren’t because they were supposedly at work. The guy works at the mill and his wife’s working place has yet to be determined. Luckily, our next door neighbor comes out for her early morning smoke… she says that she’ll hang on to him until one of owners comes home, which is usually 9 o’clock.

I usually come home for lunch around 11; so on this day, minutes after I’ve been home there is a knock at the door. It’s our neighbor from next door with, yep, Jax in tow. She says that it’s strange that the owners haven’t come home yet and she asked if we could take the dog back because she needs to run some errands. Jess and I reluctantly agreed to take him back.

What we found out is that Jax is, indeed, a pitbull… seeing as anytime Moose came close to him when he had one of Moose’s toys, he’d let out a frightening growl and bark. It also doesn’t help that Moose thinks that it is his duty to constantly straddle and walk on top of Jax, no matter where he goes. From this we decided that this pup was cage-bound–our second mistake. This dog has the screech unlike any other… it is a horrific screech that reaches beyond the human ear, physically disrupting neurons and knocking brain waves off-kilter.

Later in the day, this is where he remains, pent up and vocal as before. It’s kind of amazing what terrors lurk in cute little puppy packaging. Any coarse word I’ve said about our dog, I have taken back… we have a dream compared to this gray and white demon. I was praying that the owners would come home quick, and if it’s not quick enough, they need to come over with hat-in-hand and ready to clean up some puppy messes.

While talking to the secretary from the high school, who lives three houses down, I found out that her husband worked at the mill with the guy from across the street. Through a series of phone calls and a couple more hours, the guy showed up before any serious damage could be done to the carpet or Jessica’s eardrums.

Come as you are, as you were

Not a whole lot happening lately, the football teams have playing… maybe not as well as we would like to see. School is going well, this week has been insanely light: the transition department (translation: job preparedness) has been teaching my students first through third period, which means I really only teach fifth and sixth period…. there’s nothing like five prep periods, I find that I’m getting a lot done.

Parent/Teacher conferences start tonight. This means that I am sequestered in my room from about two in the afternoon until eight tonight. I hope they fixed the cable reception, there will be a lot of space between the three or four conferences I have today. Moose might make an appearance at the school after six–seeing as I have no appointments after that.

Speaking of Moose, he’s officially 14 weeks old and a bowl full of kibble away from 40 pounds. Have I mentioned how weird this dog is? This dog doesn’t like wet ground, when it has been raining and we take him outside, he’ll walk along the house under the eaves. There’s nothing like a dog with a complex.

And to spice things up, here’s a run down of search queries for Box of Whine:

chris wells
hatoon eugene
neopalitan mastiff
box of whine
box o whine chris wells
old mario
hermione granger
derek bell eugene oregon
hatoon eugene oregon
mario brothers 3
nintendo mario
meagan brunner
andrew bekken
hatoon eugene or
uo college of education protest
hatoon oregon
homestar powerpoint
bitter waitress
passive agreesive
hatoon uo
neopolitan mastiff

Obviously, some of my friends have some stalkers out there… but honestly, I don’t know why some of those word combinations brought people to my site.

Ev’ry day’s an endless stream

I’m pleased to introduce…

Moose the Puppy

Me and Moose the Puppy

He’s our 8 week old great dane. He has a Merle coat with black spots, and he likes to cry at night.