Wednesday is slipping by with only limited time spent with Schmootzie.  My friend Judy spells his name Schmutzie--that may be better.  We'll think about it.  for now Schm... has demonstrated that he loves to play, but can manage to rest on just about any floor without causing a problem.  Friends and neighbors are asking to visit and meet out little fellow, but we really do need for him to stay rested as long as possible.  Besides, Stan and I are all keyed up about having to leave him with a sitter as we go off to Kinston to do services.  Schm... has indicated that he would like an opportunity to say more to his public, so I will turn the rest of the blog over to him.

Hi Guys,

Well, I got through another night here, still in the crate.  Not too thrilling.  They have me wearing this big collar around my neck so I can't scratch myself where I itch--but I also can't see much about this place or eat properly or chew on my toys.  There do seem to be a lot of toys around here--some plastic bones and raggy kinds of things, as well as big sheets of very crinckly things that shred nicely--I see Stan  sit down with them in the morning and wave them around a bit while he drinks his coffee, but he really doesn't explore the crinckliness of them the way I like to, once I get hold of them.  I like to take hold of them in my mouth and grab part with my paws and toss them in the air and pounce on them. Here's a bit of housekeeping we could work on--getting the papers out by noon!

I've also learned that there's stuff behind chairs and couches here to delight my soul--stringy things and puffy things, lots of stuff to gnaw on--though they never leave me alone long enough to do serious exploration.  and are not likely to.

I gotta admit, I'm still pretty tired.  The last few weeks have been hard on me and I've had to adjust to a lot of new things.  Used to be I'd drive everywhere with my master in his big ole truck.  We'd be high off the ground for days on end.  My master was very insistent that I not mess in the truck.  He also was worried that I'd run away, so he never let me climb in or out of the truck myself.  I got used to being carried everywhere.  then, for no reason that I can tell, he decided he didn't have time for me, and he brought me to the Durham APS.  He didn't hang around to tell folks much about me, just up and left.

The folks at the APS were great--they fed me and played with me, but there must be 30 or 40 dogs there.  Some of them are very sick.  I caught a cold there.  The floors are cold, the food nothing special, and you don't get to see too many people during the day.  It's nothing like riding the road with your master right there all the time.

They say it was less than a week after my arrival that Suri and Stan picked me out, and only five more days before I came to their house, but it seemed like forever.  My trucking life seems so far back.  Its hard to remember what that all smelled like.  Here the smells are strong--not just people smells, but  all kinds of other stuff that they eat and spray on themselves and the floor--especially when I've made the mistake of peeing on the carpet.

There is a great field here for me to run around, but so far I can only do it while they're watching and out there with me--I think that's where I'm supposed to empty out, but I'm not sure yet.  So far they seem particularly happy when I do.  I'd really like to try it on my own, but in order to get there, I have to go down a whole lot of steps.  I don't know how many there are, but they look like a whole lot to me, especially with my collar on.  Did I tell you about how much I hate this collar?  Suri says it's coming off tomorrow or Friday.  Praise the Lord!

Speaking of the Lord, did I tell you that Suri and Stan are Jewish?  My first master was not Jewish.  I don't know what he was, but he was not Jewish.  Suri and Stan, though, that's all I ever hear--Stan singing all those Jewish prayers; Suri reciting all those blessings. I guess joining a rabbi's household right before Rosh Hashanah can be pretty overwhelming.  They keep saying something about going to Kinston for the holiday.  I been to Kinston.  Nothing against Kinston, but I have no desire to holiday there.  And a good thing, too Schm... as we're leaving you behind with a sitter!

Suri keeps looking over my shoulder.  She says she'll add comments afterwoofs.  No, that's no typo.  Somewhere, somehow, my dogginess needs to be acknowledged and honored. Schm... I am trying to learn dog body language to help us communicate.  I hope that's a start.  She also says that she's not taking any more pictures of me until I'm groomed.  Yet, every day she washes my face and combs my beard and brushes my teeth--isn't that grooming enough?

Listen--I gotta go now.  Y'all com and visit.   We'll run around the yard together. Y'hear?  Woof Woof