Tag Archives: dog

pull out your beads- it’s a party

Diesel (the neglected son) turned 3 in April.   As you can see he could hardly contain his excitement!

He’s mellowed some, but many days he sulks in the sweet life of complete attention that he USED to have.  You might sense the nagging jealousy that begs your love.  In truth, he is and always will be my first-born.  I love him as a child.  He comforts me when I’m sad and gets giddy with our excitement.  We are blessed to have such a beautiful pet who overflows with an easy-going personality (rare for his breed).  We may have gotten a bit more than we bargained for with his size (Truth be told, Weimaraner are not all a medium-sized dog), he makes up for with his intelligence (super easy to train) and cuddliness (He might weigh 100 lbs, but he still likes to snuggle up on your lap if you let him).

Happy 3rd birthday Diesel. Looking forward to many more 🙂


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Despite Diesel’s opinion, he really does love his little brother.  We might’ve had a few treats to convince Diesel to stay. 

What I find more humorous is that Little man has learned a few traits from his big brother, such as carrying around his toys…..in his mouth.

Yet both have a serious fascination with the dishwasher.  As soon as the dishwasher opens they both make a B-line to get there first!

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Filed under The Caleb Times


I’m officially obsessed with taking pictures of our baby.  There might be more pictures of our dog than there will be of our first born child.  I thought I’d share a few of the 976 picture of our dog with you.

Remember this adorable face you fell in love with just 6 months ago…


Well I’m big now!  In fact I ate most of that bed… oops.  While I have added a few ’bouts of excitement with my parents, a few things HAVEN’T changed!

I’m still a dog, I still eat dog food, and I LOVE to cuddle and sleep,


and my ears are still floppy…


On the other hand, a lot HAS changed.

These are now the only toys I don’t destroy…mom and dad are thankful that while I’m interested in shoes, all I do is try to get their attention by picking them up, prance into the living room and sit proudly with them.  All furniture, pillows and blankets remain in tact.  My toys and mom’s underwear are the objects of my affection.  What do you expect, I’m a male-first, dog-second.

My parents need to spell R-I-D-E for fear of being pummelled to the ground with my excitement.

I’m getting really good at getting my picture taken.  Mom appreciates the fact that I pose for her.



I have masterred the trick of giving high fives!


Thanks to some smooth moves, and use of my pretty eyes I’m now allowed upstairs…

on the bed…

on the couch…

And best of all, on grandpa’s lap.

I’m looking forward to this thing called christmas, because mom and dad have had several conversations on how to keep me from eating the tree.  My first Halloween and frist snowfall were pretty exciting…don’t worry, as I’m sure you can guess…mom took pictures!

I’d leave you with a kiss Diesel style, but since I don’t have a picture of it, just imagine me licking your chin or your ear (I’m really not sure why the ear, but apparently he has some fettish with ears!)



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It’s official, my dog is a pervert!

I’ve known for a few weeks that my Male dog has a fetish for chewing things, particularlythings he knows he’s not suppose to have.  However in recent days, sniffing through dirty laundry is quite the treat.  And Damn if he doesn’t come out with my dirty underwear every single time.  Never a sock or towel, never even the granny panties…always my nice little VS designer underwear.  WTF dog!

So yesterday I was digging through the clean clothes laying on the bed in the spare room (yes, I need 2 rooms and yes clean clothes get put away in a pile on the spare bed!)…and found a pair to slip into as I was rushing to get out the door.  Little did I pay attention to the quality of the underwear I just submersed myself into.  Nope, not until I got to work and made my morning visit to the bathroom. 

Apparently in one of those instance of Dog-Stealing-Dirty-Underwear episodes, his dagger teeth instigated a few holes. Probably unnoticeable when they were so nicely removed from dog’s mouth by yours truly and returned to the pile of dirty laundry.  Note: When small holes in fabric go through the washing and drying process, THE GET BIGGER!

Not to mention that he has now figured out how to get excited, that’s all I have to say about that.

That’s it I’m chopping off his balls.  (For those fearing Dog brutality, I should note that means it’s time for nuturing).  The last thing I need is 2 testosterone filled males in the house!

Hard telling if Proud Parents is truly the correct category for this post!

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