Where'd the Snow Go?!

This week Kilo and I bemoaned the loss of our beloved snow. Monday we had tons of it and today we have practically none. Yesterday afternoon only half of our snow had melted, revealing a mixture of mud, water, tasty crabapples and several piles of unpleasantness. Kilo could care less about the state of the yard, other than there being a shortage in crunchy ice, he's perfectly happy. He's happy wading through the mud and water and other unmentionable brown solids. Kilo and I don't exactly see eye to eye on what is and what is not ok to walk through. Therefore, yesterday afternoon, we went out to clean up the piles of unpleasantness before the snow finished melting and rendered the back yard an indistinguishable blur of brown. Of course I say 'we' very loosely, Kilo ran around the yard digging up long lost icicle toys while I dealt with all the smelly stuff. I did however, learn one comforting fact. All the toys Kilo has been munching up and swallowing bits of, I no longer have to worry about. I can rest assured that all those little pick, green, and red chunks of rubber have been safely passing through his system to colorfully decorate the backyard. I won't regale you with anymore details, I'm sure you get the idea . . . The family and I are hoping for more snow and freezing temperatures as soon as can be, because until the backyard stops looking like swampland, we're stuck inside with two energetic, easily bored puppies.

Happy Holidays :)

Happy Holidays from the big bear and I! Kilo hasn't seemed to take much notice of the holiday season. Other than the fact that there's more food lying around for the stealing, a convenient tree-shaped hideout in the living room and a horde of new toys - his life's pretty much been the same. But, here's a few pictures to commemorate Kilos first winter holiday!Thank you for the new toy, Grams! Kilo sure does love it! To be honest, Chase is a bit jealous that you showed your favoritism so clearly, but Kilo lets him nibble on the end every now and then. Can you believe it? Kilo - sharing! My little doggy's finally growing up.

I must now confess to being one of those people who gives presents to her dog . . . and is also insane enough to wrap them. Yes, I am one of those people. I freely admit it, own up to it, and look forward to doing it again. Why do I bother with the wrapping? Because it's fun to watch him get excited about being allowed to rip something asunder, and because for once it doesn't matter what the paper looks like or if the gift has green snowmen paper patched over top silver snowflakes. It's actually rather soothing. Slap this piece of paper to that piece of paper, throw some tape on and you're good to go. The ugliest wrapping job ever beheld, yet still met with wide eyed enthusiasm and curiosity.

It barely took Kilo an hour to chew through two of his new toys. If anyone knows of some hardier, big dog toys - please, please let me know. I've been to all the local pet stores and still can't seem to keep my fuzzy companion stocked. Who knew entertaining a dog could be so difficult? But, he is still cutting his teeth, so maybe his chewing frenzy will settle down once they've finished coming in. I can hope anyway. Kilo didn't exactly earn his new toys. He's been bad more than he's been good; but, giving him coal would have been pointless - he'd just eat it.
Also this week, Kilo decided he was descended from a family of squirrels and therefore was in the clear to begin climbing trees for food. The crab apple tree to be exact. The poisonous, loathed, threatened to be cut down crab apple tree. If Kilo hasn't killed himself by his first birthday I'm throwing him/me a party. A, 'we made it' party.

Let's Celebrate!

Kilo getting hugged by my sister.
92 lbs now

Something unprecedented has happened! Kilo has gone an entire month without a vet visit!! Can you believe it? I hardly can. We almost didn't make it; but luckily, we were saved by a new magical cure - pumpkin! That's right, I'm now an official endorser of pumpkin. Pumpkin and benedryl and pretty soon I might also be pushing an alcohol/vinegar ear infection cure. Why you ask? Well, I'm advocating pumpkin because this week Kilo overindulged on peanut butter. Lets just say that Kilo had a very large and liquidy problem the following day and I had one very sick and pathetic puppy. But after a much needed bath, a scoop of pumpkin, and a good nights sleep -presto! - a digestively healthy puppy. I love pumpkin.

Also this week, Kilo's itchy ears turned into a full blown ear infection. Hence the alcohol/vinegar solution. He doesn't particularly care for it, but I do it anyway and he suffers through it with a series of protests and pouts, which is basically Kilo's life in a nutshell. After two days his ears are already looking better, so if this keeps up I may be advertising some more home cures. Didn't know you were reading an advertisement blog did ya? ;)

Other than trying to break our healthy streak this week, Kilo's been a pretty good dog. In fact I was rather impressed by his self control the other night. Normally Kilo crashes at 10pm, and is down for the rest of the night. He sleeps by the front door where it's cold and then once I decide to go up he trails along behind me. It was quite late the other night, hours past our usual bedtime but Kilo and I were still downstairs when my brother went over and started loving on my sleeping dog. Kilo really just wanted to be left alone and after a few futile attempts to roll away and a series of perturbed vocalizations, picked himself up off the floor, snorted at my brother, and headed up to the bedroom as if to say, "I've had enough of this, I'm going to bed." It cracked me up! Kilo went up the stairs and to his room all by himself. Such a baby! But at the same time it pleased me that instead of mouthing or growling (like he would have a couple of months ago), this time he simply got up and left. Maybe a big doggy can be taught. ;)

Excuse Me While I Laugh

I just read an article in a dog magazine about crate training and almost laughed out loud. Why, you ask? Because. It kindly informed it's readers that while their puppy may bark for the first 15-20 minutes upon being crated, he'll quickly settle down and learn to be quiet . . . Excuse me? 15-20 minutes? Hah! I laugh in your face you oversimplified, understated, cosseted advice column! 15-20 minutes? Kilo barked for a solid two and a half hours before giving in and calming down. Even now, at 8 months old, he'll bark in his crate and that's with me NEVER giving in to his demands! Man, I have one stubborn dog.

Did anyone else see the dog show that aired on Thanksgiving day? It featured the Leonberger, a new breed recently added to the AKC, and the announcers talked about their great dispositions and family appeal . . . They failed to mention that the males can be extraordinarily stubborn . . . Surprise! Ok, so I wasn't caught entirely unawares by Kilo's independence, I was expecting it. Expecting and surviving are two very different things. Not that I don't enjoy him, or even find his stubbornness humorous at times - just don't ask me when I've told him to 'sit' and he's responding by pretending I'm invisible. Kilo's personality isn't something I can fully describe to other people. They tend to think I'm being dramatic or that I'm just not experienced enough. Only those dog owners who have had similarly strong willed, gigantic brutes truly understand. But sometimes I get a giggle because one of the scoffers will come by the house and meet him, and then they know. I was telling the truth all along.

Don't get me wrong, Kilo has lots of wonderful qualities, qualities that are slowly outweighing his flaws. He's a loving, protective, goofy, stubborn oaf . . . Actually, he's a loving, protective, goofy, STUBBORN oaf. Yes, that's much better. ;) This week, more snow! Kilo can't eat it up fast enough.

1st Snow

Today we officially entered into winter. Four inches of snow covered the ground when Kilo and I got up this morning. He treated it as he does most things in life: blunder first, wonder later. Luckily for him, snow isn't dangerous. Within a few minutes my bear of a dog had discovered his new first love. Snow. The humongous ice machine. And, as a plus, you don't even have to push a lever to get it to dispense - just ring the bells to summon your bellman and a yard of crunchy, cool ice awaits.

Chase was equally puzzled by it at first. The hemlock out back had transformed into a scary monster overnight. Chase barked at it, Kilo whacked it with his paw. After they both realized it was still their trusty hideout, just a snow covered version, the fun could start.

Kilo is not a sled dog. A snow dog? Yes. A swift moving, long lasting, stream lined runner? Most definitely not. When he's not falling face first into a snow pile, he's busy shoveling it into his mouth. Our sun-room looks like a laundromat threw up all over it, what with the towels and rugs covering the floor, and while normally I would be annoyed by the mess and work - I love snow. And I love watching my goofy dog enjoying it. So, I guess I'll forbear the giant snowballs he tracks in. Here comes winter! Kilo and I are looking forward to receiving even more snow. :)

1st Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving came and went and surprisingly, nothing catastrophic happened. Kilo didn't manage to steal any of our food and nobody had to go to the vet. I call that a win. ;)
Notice I didn't say: 'Kilo didn't try to steal our food.' He tried. I won. It helped that I crated him during dinner. I didn't really fancy the idea of yelling 'leave it' every other bite.

Thanksgiving week I worked a lot, which meant little time to exercise Kilo so he and Chase spent lots of time running around outside. A tired dog is a happy dog, and a happy owner too.

My little sister came home for the holiday, which was good for Kilo because he got lots of hugs. He doesn't particularly love them, but they're good for him. There's not much that says 'I'm fluffy and hug-able' quite like a huge, furry dog. I figure he better get used to being grabbed and loved on. He has an entire lifetime of it ahead of him.

My Sweet Angelic Puppy

That would be a shoe. What is left of my mothers shoe to be exact; and I know what you're thinking. You're thinking: 'You fell asleep again, didn't you?' Surprisingly, my answer to your question would be: No. I didn't fall asleep while babysitting and no, Kilo didn't sneak off and redesign my mothers shoe. Chase did. Mothers new, flawless dog has a shoe fetish. As in, hide it under the dining room curtains for latter savoring, kind of fetish. Excuse me while I snicker and rejoice in the fact that for once, destruction cannot be traced back to my mule.

This week has been all about the dogs. If you'd asked me a couple weeks ago what my life was about I would have told you 'Kilo' and only half been joking. Now, with two younger dogs in the house, two younger dogs who must be supervised at all times, I am no longer half joking when I answer the question. It's a good thing I'm such a huge dog person. Though I'll admit, sometimes I wish they came with a white flag and a magical fairy. So, yes, this week has been dog week. Dog week and yard week. Fall is upon us, which means packaging up all of our yard debris in pretty paper bags for the trash men. Kilo loved it because he got to be outside for hours on end every day. I however, about went crazy trying to keep him out of the crab apple tree. He's the only dog I know stupid enough to eat poisonous berries. Every time I turned around to check on him, he'd be nibbling on the lower branches. In a fit of exasperation/rage that I usually try to resist, I hacked off all the lower tree limbs. I can just imagine what the neighbors must think. Especially considering the fact that in the wee hours of the morning and late at night I can usually be seen storming across the yard in my mismatched pjs yelling at Kilo to stop devouring indigestible plants. So Thursday finds me out in the yard, sticks in my hair, crab apples smashed against my flattering barn coat, muttering angrily to myself as I take a saw to the rather unfortunate crab apple tree. It's not it's fault that it's poisonous to my idiotic dog, but an ugly tree won't cost me hundreds of dollars at the vet office.Speaking of sticks and trees, I'd like you all to know that we went to the vet again this week, and for once it wasn't Kilos fault. It was Chases fault. He got a stick wedged in the roof of his mouth, stuck between two back teeth. Try as we might, we couldn't get it out, and so we ran over to the vet where they had to knock him out in order to remove the offending object. Excuse me while I snicker some more. Oh, and to top it all off they gave us the stick back as a souvenir. An expensive souvenir, but really, what self-respecting souvenir isn't a little overpriced?

Here's a video of Kilo and Chase playing. You'll notice that I've mostly cured Kilos over-zealousness, that and he finally learned that Chase won't play with him if he loses all the time. Go figure. Chase looks like he's eating him, but they really are playing. Kilo doesn't have to fall over or act like a wimp, but he does it because it means the fun will continue.

A Poem or Two of Cringe Worthy Rhymes

There once was a dog named Kilo, who happened to be a Leo.

He loved to romp and jump and run, especially if it'd cause trouble.

A new doggy soon joined his house and Kilo was in heaven.

A playmate! A toy! A thing to Chase! How fun for our puppy, Kilo!

But Kilos poor manners must be addressed and his owner is very assertive,So Kilo must learn to conquer himself and not trample his doggy companion.

There once was a wad of cotton, wrapped in a cardboard box.
Crunchy and chewy, yet soft and fluffy, how desired that cotton box was.
And so our dear puppy waited and paced and stared with huge eager eyes,
Finally, it came! The perfect hour! For our big little puppy to strike,
And so he crept off as his poor mommy slept, that huge box of cotton in sight.
Demolished in seconds, that large old box, the cotton shredded to bits,
And though his owner must sweep, and vacuum, and trash - she can't help but snicker at him.
Here, a perfect example of why I leave the rhyming and poetry to my father and brother ;) Kilo should be happy he can't read. The Beast reached 80lbs this week.

1st Halloween

I'm a little late updating this week mostly because I've been sick but also because we lost Luke (our sheltie) on Monday. Early that morning he began acting as if he had no feeling in his left leg. We all assumed it was seizure related, but when mom and dad took him to the emergency room they said he had a blood clot somewhere, probably related to his liver disease. There wasn't anything the doctors could do for him other than wait and see, and the poor guy was in pain so Mom and Dad made the best decision for him.
Kilo got a new puzzle toy this week. He's too smart for his own good and much too smart for my wallet. Within two seconds he knew how it worked and had all the food out within fifteen minutes - I really need the pet industry to come up with some more innovative toys because this just isn't cutting it for my crazy dog.
Halloween promised to be interesting from a doggy point of view. All the new sights and smells were fascinating for our big puppy. The picture above is of Kilo trying to nibble on my brothers pumpkin while he tries to carve it. Not very subtle of him, but he just had to know what it was and why it smelled so good!
Kilo and I dressed up to give out candy this year. Mom made me a great lion tamer's costume and Kilo was my faithful but often ornery lion. He loves new toys, and will do just about anything for one, so all I had to do was withhold this one till Halloween and presto! Incentive to behave.
Kilo, my brother and I all sat out on the front stoop and gave out candy. That Tupperware container holds Kilo's treats - he got a few Treats as well, but only when he was well behaved. He give enough Tricks out as it is. I was predicting a bit of mayhem to be honest. I mean, lots of little children running around in wavy costumes smelling like sugared bliss? Add in the giant three year old and who wouldn't expect some screaming/stampeding? Kilo delights in making me look the fool. He sat quite calmly beside me the entire night and watched all the people go by. He did see one little child, probably two years old, with feathery wings on, that he just had to say hello to, but it was manageable and he at least wasn't trying to eat him, just lick him. Though I suppose licking usually precedes eating.
Here Kilo is in his 'lion' costume. You may notice that he didn't have it on in the other pictures, that would be because he decided it was more useful as a chew toy.

I had also predicted that Kilo would scare most of the Trick or Treaters away, people usually stand back when they see him, until they realize he's just an overgrown toddler. I didn't really mind, I mean, dude, more candy for me at the end of the day. But Kilo failed to instill any fear in our neighborhood children. Two kids: that was his grand total by the end of the night. Though a bunch watched him out of the corner of their eyes. It was cute to hear the kids responses to him. A couple wanted to pet him, some stood far away while trying to reach the candy bin, one almost gave him a mouthful of their stash. A couple of the parents seemed more wary of him than the kids did. But with my brother and I assuring them all that Kilo was perfectly friendly, just big and doofy, most of them stared at him as if he had just leapt out of a Narnia movie and within minutes would start talking and walking on his hind legs.

Dogs & People

Today at work I had a lady drop off her dog for boarding, and she jokingly told us not to 'kick her dog or anything'. I'm used to people being weird. We're all slightly crazy anyway. But I found her joke a bit appalling to be honest. I understand some boarding facilities aren't what they ought to be; I've heard plenty of horror stories. But that doesn't mean I understand the rationale behind the violence. Maybe it bothered me more because of all the animal abuse cases I've heard of recently. I'm not sure. I just can't figure out those abuse cases. Everybody slips up. In a moment of frustration or anger you may push your dogs butt down or pull a little harder than you meant to. But to purposefully harm an animal just because you can? Mentally, there's something not right. I realize this commentary isn't really about Kilo, but it's inspired by Kilo. How someone could look at him, and see how complex his emotions and personality are, how different he is from every other dog, and then still abuse him, quite honestly baffles me. Every dog is unique, they have their own personality shining through from the moment they start to crawl. Every dog ought to be special to its owner, otherwise what's the point in having them?
Kilo, mom, grandma and I went to the park on Monday. We made a field trip of it and Kilo had lots of fun running around and being his rotten self. He made friends with a basset hound named Henry and while they started off a little rocky, they finally discovered the perfect solution: Kilo ran all around, and Henry ran in circles trying to catch him. My big puppy is a bit too large to play with most of the dogs that show up at the dog park. He loves to wrestle but a thirty pound basset hound doesn't qualify for Kilos weight class. Luckily chase works no matter what size you are and even if Henry wasn't quite keeping up Kilo still wore himself out.

76 lbs now & sleepy

I know I've said it before, but really, no adventure anywhere with Kilo is complete unless there's been some mayhem, shouting and lots of unwanted attention. He keeps proving it to me time and time again. The dog park is fenced in. Fenced in down into the water so that the dogs don't just run along the shore and get loose. But the fence obviously has to end somewhere and it stops about ten feet into the water. No biggie right? Well, it turns out it is a biggie when your 'grass is always greener' hound spots a stick on the other side of the fence, swims around the barricade to retrieve it, and then can't figure out how to get back to his screaming owner. I'm busy calling and gesticulating to the crazy animal while Mom attempts to dash through a horde of pet owners, their friendly dogs and three dog gates. The whole time I'm trying, once again, to decide if I need to wade into the cold lake water. Deja vu anyone? Kilo finally figured out how to back track just as mom made it through to the other side. And breathe. I'm just grateful that a squirrel or rabbit didn't catch Kilos eyes whilst he was unrestrained because I'd be minus one heart-attack inducing Leo, and as much as I complain about him, the dogs starting to grow on me a little bit.

Insurance

Kilo & Dad

This week Kilos leg got better without having to go back to the vet. This week Kilo was signed up for medical insurance. If it were technologically possible you would feel a breeze waft through your hair at this moment, caused by the collective sigh of my familiar unit. Knowing Kilo is now covered for any future catastrophic events has provided all of us with a priceless commodity: peace of mind. Most of Kilos life has been a blur of unfortunate events and I keep waiting for the giant ball to drop. At least now, if it does drop, we have the means to not only drag it off of him, but to fix the damage it caused as well. The pet insurance companies should consider copying the credit card commercials. It'd show a bunch of cute photographs of the owner and their dog running through a field playing ball while a disembodied voice said "Tennis Balls: $10" then the dog would trip and start limping. Cut to an animal hospital, "Broken Bone: $600" Then the dogs in a cast with a smiling owner. "Having the money to fix your best friend: Priceless." . . . Though I suppose that kind of commercial is a little melancholy.

We tried out camping this week. Kilo is not yet ready for camping. When he wasn't trying to catch drifting embers in his mouth, he was busy barking at his terrifying shadow. He only got to stay for about an hour before I drug him home and made a mental note to try again next year when his maturity level has grown past a two year olds.

Kilo discovered a new source of cold water:

Really? I mean, really?!

Before we brought Kilo home I went through the house making sure things were safe for the new puppy. I made sure to cover the hardwood floor with rugs, I meticulously picked up all small or dangerous objects and went over the puppy rules with everyone in the family. Now I feel like the mother who dutifully padded all sharp cabinet corners and covered every electrical outlet only to have her child run into the glass door and knock himself out.
This week Kilo hurt himself by running. Running on what would for most dogs, be obviously safe, natural grass. Not for Kilo. Oh no. That normal, everyday grass reared up and dealt our lovable puppy a hard blow. Tuesday night Kilo started limping after running gleefully across a field of waving grass and prairie flowers. Let this be a warning to all of you. Peaceful scenes of people and animals running through fields are dangerous misinterpretations of reality. Kilo and I now know this. After two days of worry and another vet bill. Yes, we went to the vet again. Kilo is such a wuss that he refused to bear any weight on his front right paw and finally convinced me he was injured enough to warrant another veterinary experience. The vet says he most likely pulled a muscle. Running. On a non-slippery surface. I'm going to make Kilo go to work and pay for his own vet bills. I figure it'll make him less of a wuss.

Kilo was very badly behaved at the vets office. For one thing, he's a wuss, for another, he hates being restrained and he really hates being messed with by strangers. Today we hit all three, at the same time. He was quite unhappy. I now have another undesired behavior to overcome. Luckily the vet was very nice about his fussiness, but mother and I were less than thrilled. Something else to work on. Oh yes, and Kilo is under strict orders to have limited exercise until he is back to normal . . . Please pray for us.

Crazy Kilo

This week Kilo decided to try out the art of mauling. I'm not a fan. Kilo being the stubborn juvenile that he is has yet to pick up on that fact. This week, usually in the evening because that's when his craziness reaches its ultimate high, he's been leaping up at me and mouthing me as if I were one of his canine buddies. I am most certainly not a canine buddy nor am I sure that even his doggy friends would appreciate his enthusiasm. Once the attack signal has gone off in his brain the only thing I can do is stomp on his leash and make him 'settle' until the bug has crawled out. I'll be very happy once the infant figures out his latest discovery isn't getting him any further than the floor.

Today I thought I'd get some cleaning done. Today I thought wrong. My day went something like this. . .
Dust an object. Glance to check on Kilo. Take foreign object away from Kilo. Put object back where it belongs. Return to dusting. Search for duster. Chase Kilo to retrieve duster. Dust an object. Clean up Kilos dumped water bowl. Dust an object. Dust another object. Progress! Find cardboard container Kilo ripped to shreds. Clean glass. Take duster away from Kilo. Wipe Kilos nose print off glass. Get vacuum out. Make Kilo sit while vacuum is on. Start to polish a chair. Stop Kilo from eating vacuum cord. Stop Kilo from dumping his water bowl over. Finish polishing chair. . .
And so it continued. ALL DAY. Kilo skipped his usual nap in order to further disrupt the cleaning process. I was highly tempted to let him become more acquainted with his crate. But, he's going to have to learn to behave himself and he can only do that if given the opportunity and some very strict guidance. He's definitely the most challenging and expressive dog I have ever owned.

The following picture is how Kilo looks when gazing at the duster. We call it 'crazy eyes'. If he looks like this bad things usually follow.

See how dark he's getting? Lots of black hair now.

Hotel Leo

Everyone knows that there are some things in this world that just don't mix well. Like oil and water, or permanent marker and two year olds. If you own a Leonberger or ever dream of owning one, please add 'Leonbergers and hotels' to your list. To be honest I didn't think twice about taking Kilo to a hotel. Generally he's pretty well behaved (as long as I'm sitting on him 24/7) so no big deal right? Well it wasn't a big deal at first. Kilo didn't mind the lobby full of people, weird smells, lifting rooms, or small children. No, all of that was a little unnerving, but quite manageable to his doggy brain. Trouble didn't come until we went out for his potty break and saw "Cape Lady".

So, here I am, calmly leading Kilo out to go potty, past a bunch of small children and out the front doors. I'm thinking, 'Wow! He didn't even try to eat any of those tiny creatures, life is good!' Ten seconds later, as we come upon Cape Lady unloading her luggage in the pull around Kilo comes unhinged. As in: loud barking, hair up, yanking on leash unhinged. He was terrified, but he was expressing his terror in a very non friendly way (read 'scary' here). I had to literally drag him out into the field and walk him back and forth for forty minutes before he finally calmed down enough for me to get him back in the hotel. What was so terrifying about Cape Lady, you ask? I haven't the foggiest, except that she had a very billowy, linen wrap-around on and it was windy out. The rest of the night Kilo was the definition of alert. Until I drugged him with benadryl. I really need to buy some stock in that medicine. Is that even possible? If it is then go buy some because I can probably single-handedly keep them in business. Think it was unfair of me to drug the dog up again? Consider the fact that Leos are considered 'watch dogs' and then add in a bunch of strangers making noise in rooms that are inaccessible. Kilo's perfectly friendly (unless you're Cape Lady), but if he doesn't know you and on top of that can't see you, he'll bark. Not his puppy bark either. The loud, window vibrating, big boy bark. The 'going to get us kicked out of the hotel' bark. We held out till midnight. For two hours we tried the sober approach. Kilo sat next to me on the bed, and I held a bag of treats. Kilos ears went up, head turned towards the door, body completely motionless and I knew . . . Bomb Planted. Defuse now or disturb the neighbors. So for two hours I dutifully distracted him with a treat every time someone slammed a door. Realistically I just wasn't going to be able to do that all night. So, at midnight we gave in, dossed Kilo up to take the edge off his nerves and went to sleep. Ah, benedryl, how I love thee. The next day we pack up, head home, no problems. Kilo is a prefect little car traveler and he's resting quite comfortably in the knowledge that Cape Lady will never visit his house or even get within ten feet of him.

72lbs

Last week Kilo managed to destroy a record breaking number of items:
-2 laptop charger cords (His total so far is: 5)
-1 leather leash
-1 training leash (Do not ever tie your leonberger to a tree while you pack the car up. Just take my advice on this one)
-1 high heel shoe

Parting Gifts

Today was our last day in West Virginia and of course we just couldn't leave without a few parting gifts. Like a couple yellow jacket stings, and of course, some mandatory fleas. Poor Kilo. The yellow jackets got him because he's a blundering fool who foolishly disturbed the bush they were encamped under. They were not happy. So Kilo got stung by some insects and then dossed up on benadryl by his paranoid owner - we don't need any more complications right now, especially not of the allergic reaction emergency vet bill kind. No, no thank you, benadryl is a lot cheaper. Luckily Kilo is already on flea prevention, due to the fact that he likes to go romping through high grass and generally enjoys outdoor activities that result in flea infestations. So the flea problem will go away shortly, but I really hate fleas. I hate the whole idea of them. Nasty little things.

Oh, and the general consensus from West Virginia is that Kilo is one very unusual and large dog. A typical conversation went something like this:
Stranger: "What kind of dog is that?"
Me: "A Leonberger."
Stranger: "A what?"
Me: "A Leonberger."
Stranger: nonplussed look
Me: "l-e-o-n-b-e-r-g-e-r"
Stranger: "Huh. Never seen a dog like that before. Cute though."
People generally equate him to either a bear or a lion, no one can decide, but they all agree that he's 'big'. I'm beginning to think that Kilos knocked some of my brains out because he doesn't seem all that big to me anymore. Sometimes I even think he's a bit on the small side.

Surviving Temptation

This week we've been at Grandmas. If I were to write a book about this week it would without question be called: Surviving Temptation! Hence, the theme of this post. Everything within reach is new and interesting and mouth worthy. Wonder what Kilo just can't say no to? Here's a short list:

#1 on Kilos wish list: Cuddles!

No, not the stuffed toy on the right. See the fuzzy thing on the left? The one that's glaring? That's Grandmas dog. Cuddles.She's only cuddly if you're Grandma. The rest of the world and all moving things in it, she hates. As in, 'I'll bite you' hates. If you have enough patience and persistence she might, eventually, maybe, deign to let you pet her. If you're Kilo you have no chance of ever getting within ten feet of her without eliciting growling and baring of fangs. You can see his dilemma though right? She's tiny like his toys, squishy like his toys and she even squeaks like his toys! Why shouldn't he try and play with her?

#2 on Kilos wish list: Artificial Plants

In this blog I've already covered Kilos love of anything artificially plant like. So you won't be surprised when I tell you that many of grandmas flowering arrangements were in dangerous straits at various points during our stay. How tempting though! Especially when they're Kilo size.

#3 on Kilos wish list: FOOD!

Grandmas table is considerably shorter than our table at home, which means everything is right within Kilos reach. Poor doggy had a terrible time controlling himself when meal time came around. I mean, it's right there!

#4 on Kilos wish list: A Big Bed

Kilo isn't allowed up on the furniture but I do allow him to be up on the bed. However, he's too big for my bed at home so he always gets shoved off onto the floor. Grandmas bed is a perfect Kilo size bed. Large, soft, and comfy; and as an added bonus it includes his favorite people whom he can smother and attack to his hearts content.

Here's a few more of my favorite pictures of Kilo at Grandmas (just in case you didn't get enough of him already).woods, woods, wonderful woods
full of tasty sticks!

dog toy + bed = bliss

look out! he's gonna eat her!

ah, wonderful deck
bugs to chase, trees to stare at, and a fresh smelly breeze

Are We There Yet?

Before I got Kilo, I had these big dreams about traveling. You know: zooming across the road, wind blowing in your hair, ipod blaring, open horizon miles ahead and faithful companion at your side type plans. This past weekend reality struck. I now realize that my dreams of packing Kilo up for a casual outdoorsy weekend were just that: dreams. Pipe dreams to be exact. There is nothing casual about packing Kilo up; as I found out when I began to gather his things for going to grandmas. First of all the crate absolutely, positively must go anywhere Kilo goes. He simply cannot be left alone without it. The crate is gigantic. The crate alone makes packing Kilo up hard work. On top of that he eats five cups a day which means an entire bin of dog food has to tag along. Add in all the necessary toys, treats, and emergency supplies (because you know there’s going to be one) and you have one very un-casual trip. In fact, the dog has more luggage than I do. Or my mother. Even with both of us combined the dog still requires more space. I tell myself that eventually he won’t need the crate or all the toys and then it will be simpler, but I’m not going to hold my breath.


Mom and I weren’t exactly looking forward to a twelve hour drive with Kilo. You can’t really blame us though can you? All indications, based upon Kilos past history, pointed towards a very dismal road trip experience. We left Saturday. Friday night Kilo was beamed up by a couple tiny aliens and given an experimental sedative. At this point in time I’m attempting to establish communication with them. Whatever Kilo was on that day, I want more. The road trip went by wonderfully. Kilo was perfect. He forewent all bad behaviors and passed the day peacefully mouthing his toys or napping. Mom and I were, needless to say, quite shocked. In fact we spent most of the day commenting on his sudden personality change. Can’t believe it? I couldn’t either. So I have proof. Please feel free to consider the evidence before you. Please also realize that once the road trip was over he turned into a whirling dervish.

Exhibit A: Kilo peacefully slumbering

Exhibit B: Kilo wedged between the front seats.

Mouthing his favorite doggy while sleeping.