Merged!

Mom was having trouble keeping up with so many blogs, so she stuck me and Izzy together. Please join us over at our new home, Chihuahua Caliente!

So tired

Mama got lost in a book and I drifted off to my happy place.

Christmas Greetings

Hello my canine amigos! I hope you all had a great Christmas season and were pawsomely blessed with lots of toys and treats. We didn't get anything....yet. My mom is going to personally take us to the pet store to pick out the gift of our dreams. Will keep you posted.
We had a ton of fun with our human family. By the end of the day, I was wiped out. That was really better than a new toy.

My Carbon Pawprint

Okay, I think these environMENTALists have crossed the line. They are now saying that me and my canine amigos have a larger carbon footprint than a SUV. Are they kidding? I don't even have feet, I have paws, thank you very much. Besides, I don't even drive! How much damage can I really cause?

My mom is incensed about this whole matter. Besides the glaringly obvious error of using the term footprint, these "New Zealand researchers" claim that because I eat meat that goes into my dog food, that I should feel guilty for living because it takes too much farmland to feed me.

In my household we all try to be responsible about waste, but this is taking an issue way too far and then some. This must be that slippery slope mom always talks about. Before you know it we'll have to bottle our personal emissions (if you get my drift) in a jar and pay a tax on it. Sound ridiculous? At this point, nothing the government tries to tax would surprise us.

Look at this quote: "Any claims on the Earth's resources, whether it's having pets or having children, we need to think about. It doesn't necessarily mean getting rid of your pet now,” Lester Brown, president of the Earth Policy Institute, tells ABC.com.

What does he mean, NOW?! I hope Mr. Brown comes to our house because I will feel no remorse as I'm biting his ankles. If I could jump higher, I'd gladly bite something else. And those researchers...I'd really like to pass along my sentiments to them also. Hmph.

Just the Dip, Please

This is a public service announcement: I do not accept chips or crackers unless they have been dipped in sauce or cream cheese dip. I'm not picky on the dip — just dip it in something. Plain crackers are not palatable. You see, my taste buds have become more developed over the years thanks to all the human food sampling I've been *forced* to partake in. (tee hee)

You may now resume your regularly scheduled programming. Thank you.

Brrrrrr!

Cold, cold go away. Come again some other day! My chihuahua bones can't handle this. And the humans expect me to do my "business" outside. Hmph! Let's see how they fare when they have to walk outside in bare feet and stick their hineys out in this weather! I would LOVE to see that! Just once.

Mad

I'm a little perturbed at mama. While I was parked in front of the kitchen stove waiting for more scraps, Chance got the bright idea to jump on the couch to be next to mama. This NEVER happens. Never. No telling how long he was there, selfishly gobbling up all her attention.

As soon as I got wind of what was going on, I raced back to the living room and tried to bully him off. Well, mama was having none of that. She fussed at me and pushed me away! I couldn't believe the obvious act of treason happening right before my very eyes.

Finally, Chance jumped down and I snuggled back into mama's lap thinking all was well in my world again. But he still acted like he wanted back on the couch. This caused me to go into patrol mode, walking up and down along the edge, growling. He was clearly testing my authority. Mama told me that if I was going to misbehave like that I should go elsewhere. Misbehave? Um, it's called protecting your territory. She doesn't understand anything.

Then she said, "I'm the boss, Sparky; not you."

Hmph! When the heck did that happen?

M.I.A.

My most devoted human has been taking care of her mother who lives out of town. This has caused a delay in blogging. I wish I could blog myself, but I don't have opposable thumbs which are apparently much-needed digits if you are going to have a blog. I'm good at dictating, so I kind of need a human with those special thumbs to help me get the word out.

Let's see, I have been missing my mama a LOT! Daddy is great, however, he is pretty enamored with Izzy, and I have little chance of usurping her position. All I have is Chance to boss around, and my choice of several beds around the house. Lately, I have become quite fond of Izzy's bed inside of her crate. It's my little get away spot when everyone is annoying me.

When my mama finally returned I was overcome with joy. I growled at the other dogs for horning in on the special greeting I had prepared for her. She fussed at me, too. Not at all the kind of appreciation I expected. But I got over it quickly as we all settled in with our comfy blankies to watch TV. Ah, life is good again.

Snuggling

I love autumn because that's when my mom breaks out her thick, cushy, soft purple robe. She wears it around the house all evening, then when it's time for bed, she removes it and folds it nice and thick right beside her pillow. It's all warm from her body heat and my chihuahua bones are very thankful. Life just doesn't get any better than this.

Walk of Shame

Sorry I've been MIA. Mom and dad went to Mexico and when they got back, mom began having something called "migraines". She's finally ready to help me blog and boy do I have something to report!

After talking with her vet friends, my mom took their reckless advice and brought home a doggie stroller for our walks. Apparently, one mile is way too long for a Chihuahua to waddle walk, much less a "senior" one. Hmph! The nerve.

Having no idea at first that this thing was for me, I started out walking with Chance like we normally do, thinking it was only Izzy who would endure the disgrace of being wheeled around the neighborhood. Next thing I knew, the humans stopped, took off my leash, and forced me into the degrading thing on wheels, zipping it up so I couldn't escape. I now had to view the world through black mesh, bumping along the sidewalk like an idiot, unable to mark my territory. You know how important that is to me, doggonit! I wanted to yell out "DOGNAPPED!" but instead of yelling I clawed at the screen, because you know, I can't form words. :/

I don't understand how Izzy has absolutely no pride. She actually seemed to enjoy being carted around in that pink contraption without caring a whit about how this looks to our social circle. And don't even get me started on the bright pink. Ick. Poo. Yuck. Can you say girly girl?
Here is daddy getting Izzy secured inside the humiliation vehicle. You can't really see me because I'm trying to get as far away from them as possible so that I won't be laughed at.
I think the look on my face tells you exactly how I felt.

Thank You!

Thanks to Lilibell of Chi's and the City for this pawsome award. It says: your blog is like a pearl, rare, delicate and charming.

I'm so grateful. Many thanks also to Purple Hatter for creating this lovely award. High paws all around!

Embarrassing

No, embarrassing doesn't begin to describe this photo. Extreme humiliation is more like it.

It's Time For: Wordless Wednesday!

Less Words Wednesday

What happened to my butt?

Wordless Wednesday

I'm A Gem!

Thank you so much to Bentley, Lexus and their mom for giving me this beautiful award. I am a little verklempt.

What Did You Call Me?

I have so many aliases, I can hardly keep up. Apparently, my humans think it is okay to call me everything but the name that I was given.
Here are some of my nicknames:

Spark Plug

Sparky Plug

Sparkman

Sparkinator

Sparkykins

Sparkles *ewwww* *gag*

The last one is wrong. Just WRONG!

Wordless Wednesday

The Walk

Last night we all went on a walk! Well, I say ALL of us walked, but in actuality, Izzy was carried by Daddy like she's the Queen of Sheba. I mean look at her in that contraption! It was soooo embarrassing.

I managed to ignore the situation by performing the very difficult task of marking my territory about every 10 feet. I have my reputation to protect, you know. Mom kept pulling me forward saying we didn't have time for that nonsense. My macho image was at stake! Darn her.

No matter what this picture looks like, I am the Alpha Dog. hmmmph!

No Way Out

Apparently, I gave Daddy a little panic attack this morning. When he got ready to leave for work, he couldn't find me anywhere. He couldn't find me up the stairs and couldn't find me under the beds. He looked up, down, and all around. He shouted my name inside and outside. Daddy began to think that I had vaporized into thin air.

I never said peep. As he yelled my name, I didn't bark to tell him where I was. I don't know why. Sometimes I'm just a quiet little fella who likes to mind his own business. Besides, this was my private refuge that I had uncovered all by myself, and I wasn't sure I wanted it exposed so quickly. The others might try to horn in on my new territory.

It all started when Daddy sat in the recliner early that morning and pulled the foot rest up. When he did that, I made the awesome discovery: it was all cavelike under there. It was dark and cool and unexplored. I was beyond excited to have a fresh new hide out place. I was wondering why I had never thought of this spot before. Of course I failed to realize that when he put the foot rest down, I would have no way out.

Daddy really strained his brain to think when he saw me last and that's when it dawned on him that I might be stuck under the chair. When he put the foot rest up, there I was, patiently waiting.

In order to get the most out of this ghastly situation, I put on my really pathetic face. Over the years, I have perfected this forlorn face. In fact, I used that face to get my mom to adopt me on the very first day we met, and it's worked ever since. But part of me was really sad that my new hiding place was no longer secret.

Izzy the Grouch

Well, the domination of Izzy continues. She has effectively taken over the entire household, including the food bowls. Even if I happen to get to the food first, she glares at me with a death stare until I move away. Once she has achieved this I am not allowed back at the bowl until she is finished.

Izzy is a very slow, yet voracious eater with a very tiny mouth, so it takes for-ev-er. If I get brave enough to stick my nose in she has the audacity to growl at me and show her teeth. It is a very unpleasant experience.

Food is my life. Well, my momma, too. What can I do with her?!

This Sign Stinks

My mom's daughter, Autumn, took this photo during her vacation in Portland, OR last year. It has just come to my attention and I find it completely and utterly crass. Besides, as my mom is well aware, when I have to go, I have to GO. How is she supposed to stop me? Yeah, that's what I thought.

My Mom, the Puparazzo

My mom, the puparazzo, is in full swing again. All I wanted was a peaceful evening on her lap. Instead I was forced to pose on a frilly blanket and asked repeatedly to smile for the camera. I'm a very private per...er...canine. Can't she see that I'm not enjoying this? When the ears lay flat on my head that is not a good sign. I've seen what Kiefer Sutherland does to paparazzi. Does she want me to go all 24 on her tail?

She did get one good action shot of me hunting the bunnies in our back yard, except the photograph doesn't show my tail which is always curved perfectly when I'm stalking prey. That would have really done a lot to enhance my macho image. Mom, can you do a better job next time of getting my entire body in the frame?

Checking In

Not much to report on the home front lately. My days are spent pining for my mom while she's away doing whatever it is she does, and sleeping. Oh, and eating - can't forget the most important activity!

Izzy started some kind of Savings & Bone plan by hiding food all over the house. Most of the time she forgets where she makes her deposits, and guess who benefits? My sniffer would outperform the best Bloodhound. She's really not very careful with her hiding places. I found a piece of kibble in my dog bed the other day. Maybe she was leaving me a treat. Who knows. She also left a morsel next to the toilet which mom found. She knows mom doesn't eat our food! That girl is an enigma.

Mom bought me a cushy new bed for her office because she didn't like the color of the other one. The replacement is much thicker and softer, so I wholeheartedly approve of the change.

Well, that's about it. I might bark some more later.

Happy Birthday To Me!

Happy Birthday To Me
Happy Birthday To Me
Happy Birthday Dear Sparky
Happy Birthday To Me!

Did I get a fancy cake? Did I get a big party to celebrate the big day? No and no. Oh, mom and dad gave me something all right. Can you guess what it was? No? Okay, it was a #%$#&! LOW CALORIE dog biscuit! They said it's for my own good and so I can live at least 7 more years. Who wants to live 7 more years eating that tasteless crap? I'll just continue to scavenge for the tasty treats the rabbits leave for me in the backyard. There! Problem solved.

Spoiled

I bet you think I'm going to talk about how spoiled I am, right? I wish! It's not me, it's Izzy. Look at her showing off her necklace like she's Queen Isabella of France instead of the ordinary canine she actually is. She's spoiled rotten by mom and dad, and she's also spoiled the fun for Chance and me, so the title of this post has a dual meaning. I'm really, really, very, VERY put out with Izzy right now.

Ever since Christmas, she has had some sort of ailment requiring medical attention. After the big to-do over her hospitalization, she has had three more "episodes". Such a drama queen. A few weeks ago she had a vomiting spell so severe that dad actually prayed to God to transfer her illness to him. She was incoherent, wobbly, and weak. After injecting water in her mouth with a syringe, she started coming out of it. Dad really thought she was a goner that time. They made a big deal over her for several days.

I was a little hurt.

Last week she had vomiting and diarrhea. More dramz! Izzy gets the whole house in a tizzy with her hysterics.She received special food that I was shooed away from at least a dozen times. Sometimes I don't feel so hot either, but I don't make a big deal about it. Perhaps I should feign illness to get special food and treatment.

Fast forward to last night: Mom came back from the store with fresh vegetables, saying she was finally going to eat healthy. Right away I didn't like the sound of that. She bit down on an orange stick and gave Chance and me a small piece. As I suspected, this food was revolting. We both spit it out in disgust with a WTF look on our faces. Izzy ran under Chance's nose and snatched the rejected scrap. Mom tried chasing her around the house to get it back, but she was too fast for mom. A couple hours later, Izzy's muzzle swelled up, making her look like a Shar Pei.

Once again, mom went into panic mode. Here we go!! Dad grabbed the benadryl and syringe in a knee-jerk reaction. Mom started telling him in that stressed out voice I hate, to let her call a friend to see what the correct dosage should be. She couldn't get her friend, so she googled and googled for almost an hour. Finally, they settled on a minuscule amount. They also decided that human treats were out of the question for ALL OF US. I can't tell you the state of depression that has put me in.

This morning Izzy's face was back to normal. Mom and dad were relieved. I just wonder what other shenanigans this hypochondriac has up her sleeve. To be continued...

A Doggone Great Christmas!

Our Christmas gatherings were very exciting this year. The parties included some little people that were very careless and clumsy with their food. I hit the jackpot. Shadowing each one closely, I cleaned up their little messes as they went from room to room.

Izzy didn't fare so well with this practice as she ended up going to the hospital two days later. You can read more about her experience here.

In addition to the human food, all us canines were given our own container of liver treats! Yay! That is my absolute favorite dog treat. The strong aroma of liver sends me into orbit every time.

By the end of the night, I suffered mild humiliation at the hands of the wee ones. The human food I was able to get from them made it all worth it, though.

Help! I've Been Elfed!

My mom is constantly thinking up ways to embarrass me.

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Photo Shoot Time

Mom turned into a paparazzo this weekend, all because Izzy got a new outfit. My ears always lie flat against my head when the camera comes out. I think that's my most flattering look. Thank goodness I wasn't forced to wear hideous clothes, although I am sporting a fairly new red collar.Here's Izzy front and center as usual. In this case, I'm really glad. I like being the background decoration for her humiliation. BOL!

Bye, Spenser!

All last week I sensed Spenser failing. Mom's human boy, Greg, came to visit yesterday and cried a river of tears over him. Spenser tried to tell him it would be okay, but only Chance was able to put a paw on his shoulder to convey comfort. Spenser was having trouble breathing and his eyes were bloodshot and tired. It seemed he couldn't focus on anything. It was a sad, sad sight. The Beast, my nemesis, was growing dim. I don't know what the humans did, but they all got in the car and took him away. Mom returned later that night holding his leash and collar. Spenser was no longer with them. Chance and I sniffed, begging to know more, but they only said he had crossed the Rainbow Bridge, and we could not see him until we cross it ourselves one day.

Spenser, I'm sorry I bossed you around so much in life and hope you will forgive this grumpy, ol' fella. I really did love ya, man! You were a beast because of your size, but inside you were a true gentleman.