..when REB gets bored. Poor Gryff.
I like how sped Hank looks. I like how Gryff ripped his eye to make him look even more that way (o_O;
My favorites are special.

This is Humphrey the Hippo. He was Gryff’s very first toy (aside from his puppy Kong).
Humphrey is more than a friend to him though. He was Gryff’s companion, compadre, his bestie.
We decided to see what it would be like if Humphrey and Gryff were reunited after months of separation.

Gryff was pretty stoked to his pal back in his life. After taking this picture, something happened.
I started to cry. Well, almost. OK, I was tearing up and didn’t want REB to see, so I hid it.

I know I shouldn’t be upset that he’s grown up into the best dog ever (seriously), but I always think of him as that little bean we got over a year ago.
if you observe on the left, Gryff used to be the size of Humphrey. He couldn’t even pick him up. All he could really do was gnaw on his tail with his puppy teeth. On the right, is today. Over a year later.
sniff sniff…as he’s all…sniff…grown up…sob..
Humphrey has seen some better days. To be real honest, I think he was used more as a teething toy than a companion.

It’s so dirty and chewed up! It’s pretty gross to think his mouth was kind of gross and made things dirty. Yuck!

He not only nommed all over Humphrey, but he also pulled out the stuffing. I think that’s the reason he got put back into the Gryffy toy box. Not joking.

Another reason why we probably put Humphrey BACK into his toy box was because of how filthy he is… This can’t be sanitary. o_O
I don’t want to get rid of the hippo. Like Mr. Bear to me, I want Gryff to always have the first toy he ever had. This toy used to spend many nights with him in his crate, helping him through his first night away from his birth mommy -tear-, helping him cope with spending a few hours alone each day while REB and I were at work, and helping him teeth comfortably. He’s an important part of his life!
Who am I kidding? He’s part our of lives too. Call that lame, but whatever.

They’ve both mellowed out over the months, but they’ll always be best friends. That much is true.
Together, these two can conquer the world! …or the living room at least.

I don’t know his real name, but we call him Pumpkin Cat. I don’t even know if it’s a boy or girl, but I assume it’s a boy.
He lives across the street. Well, he hangs out across the street.
Pumpkin Cat is actually a stray kitty and the woman across the street started taking care of him. That is, she leaves food, water, a blanket and has a covered litter box set up outside so it can have a place to hang out if it rains or snows, or gets cold. Pretty nice if you ask me.
He’s also really nice and didn’t mind while I stood just 2 feet from him, snapping away at his cute little frame.

…or maybe he wanted to eat me….

The Pumpkin Cat stance and stare.

The Pumpkin Cat does not approve of your photo.

I said….the Pumpkin Cat does not approve of your photo.

I love how poised these creatures are. Despite having some crazy lady making a clicking noise through that black thing attached to her eye, they maintain their concentration on more important things. …Like the chickadees chirping happily in the tree nearby.

This is what I love. The way kitties sit so poised and have their tails wrapped around their feeties. So freaking cute!!

Pumpkin Cat also has a smooshed in face. I’m not usually a fan of these types of cat. OK, I’m not really a fan of them at all. But when you have a nice cat like Pumpkin Cat, it’s kind of tolerable.

And like all kitties, Pumpkin Cat is meticulous about cleaning.

Such precision and technique…! I can’t even clean my house that way. Ugh.
Then I asked Pumpkin Cat if his cleaning escapade was good.

And that’s what he said to me. Apparently it made him tired.
Yeah, Pumpkin Cat is one of a kind and a very interesting creature.
Just remember one thing:

The Pumpkin Cat is always watching.
Ree Drummond, the Pioneer Woman, is trying to kill me.
OK, not really, but that’s the only way I can justify the photo assignment she’s having this week.
P-Dubs has a photo assignment every now and then, which allows her fans and blog-followers showcase their “best of” photos. Then she picks finalists and gives out sweet prizes. A pretty nice gig if you ask me.
So this week when I saw she was having another photo assignment, I know I wasn’t the only one who was anxiously waiting to see what it was.
This week’s topic?
Dog portraits.
You see why I said she’s trying to kill me?
Does she even KNOW me…?
Mmmmk, don’t answer that.
Everyone knows how much I obsess about my dog, Gryff. He’s the best and cutest dog. No contest. Everyone also knows that I obsess about him so much that I have 600+ photos of him. At least. And I post his pictures here on my blog and ALL OVER my Flickr.
How am I ever going to submit only FOUR (one each day) for this assignment…?? This is like the biggest challenge ever! An impossible feat, if you will.
The first two entries were the following:
Unfortunately, I didn’t make Group 1 of the finalists. There were some adorable pictures, though. I don’t know if first-day-we-got-Gryff picture will make Group 2 of the finalists, but a girl can dream, right?
I’ve never won any of her contests or giveaways (or any contest or giveaway for that matter…). So when I saw this one was about our canine besties, I got pretty excited thinking, “Maybe…just maybe…I have a shot.” And then I saw all the other entries, which put my amateur photography to shame.
It hit me last night that this is too hard for me, as lame as that sounds. Seriously. It’s hard not to submit all 600+ (or is it more like 1000+ now? o_O) photos of him so the world can see how cute he is. Well, actually, not that hard since we can only post one per day – ha. But you get my point.
Today’s submission was an actual portrait I took of him yesterday:
It’s totally lame that I get all nervous and restless over these contests and assignments (darn you, Ree!). However, I’m a proud goggie mama, and I love sharing pictures of him to the world (^__^)
I don’t even know what I’ll post tomorrow as the final submission, but that’s something I can get nervous and foolishly-stressed about later. I do love seeing all the other submissions, though. Dogs are the cutest, most amazing animals ever! And I love that she’s giving everyone an opportunity to obsess about their dogs just a little more than usual.
And hey, even if I don’t make any finalist groups, that’s OK. The Gryffster is always going to be #1 in my book. Well, in the goggie world at least.
Dogs are tricksters. Ours is a very good trickster.
A perk to living so close to work is that I can meet REB at home for lunch. It also means I get to see the dog and he can TCB outside. If he does his business, we just leave him out (block off the kitchen and close all the doors) so he’s not cramped in his crate all day. I know I’d hate that.
Whenever we’ve come home, we see Gryff in his crate and kind of laugh because really…if you could be out of your crate all day, why would you go back into it? I know his crate is a sense of security for him, but still.
Yeah, we were naive and wrong.
We had our suspicions that maybe he was out of his crate, but would run into it when he’d hear us coming in the door.
And that would be correct.
I came home today and peeked my head into our window (like a creepster) and I could see Gryff laying on the ground next to the coffee table chewing on a toy we left out for him. I turned my key into the door and looked in the window and saw him rush into his crate. So when I came in, I see him in his crate and he yawns and stretches like he’d been in there alllllll day.
Trickster. He’s not fooling anyone anymore.
“Wait..wha-?? You’re home…? I’m soooo tired. I was in here in the whoooole time.”
“….I can’t even keep my eyes open. I’ve been sleeping the whole time.”
Yeah…right.
Oh good. You’re awake. Now come say hi to me like a good dog and stop pretending you’re an angel…
Or…mmk. You’re going back to sleep. Great.
Oh, so REB is home and you get excited for that.
…Which he did. He was all about coming out of the crate, doing a ridiculously long stretch as if he’d been in there forever, and greeting the alpha male.
Sigh. He continues to amaze me. The little pooper.
I know I’ve said it a countless number of times just how much I love my dog. I treat him like a kid. No joke. Whenever he gets sick or makes a weird noise, I tend to freak out and think something is severely wrong with them. One of my friends even told me, “Never have kids.” Although, part of the time it’s me just being paranoid, most of the time it comes from the fact that I’ve never ever owned a dog before, so anything he does, I’m curious. And besides, what’s wrong with being concerned about someone or something you love?
This past weekend, Gryff got hurt. Like, really hurt. He and REB were playing and REB put him down on the ground and then all of a sudden, Gryff just started yelling. It was the scariest noise ever. He kept whining and yelping and held his front, right leg curled into his body. He couldn’t walk. He was limping and REB and I both freaked out. We thought maybe it was just a sprain and he’d walk it off. But when the “walking it off” turned into limping and then falling down, we knew he had to be taken to the vet.
REB took him to the animal hospital where they took some X-Rays and tried moving his leg. REB said he wasn’t allowed in the back, but he could hear the yelping and high-pitched crying from all the way in the waiting room. I’m sure I would have started bawling my eyes out like a baby. Little animals shouldn’t get hurt. The site of it, the sound of it – it just breaks my heart.
The end result was Gryff getting some doggy morphine and he can walk normally. They think he sprained his elbow and also found a weird line in his bone, which by the looks of it, doesn’t seem too serious, though they’re going to follow up with us when they know for sure. He’s been ordered not to run or play, which really stinks when your breed is supposed to run and play and do “jobs”. Since he can’t be too active, he’s also not allowed to jump on or off the couch or onto the bed. He’s been restrained to his crate every night, which really stinks. As much as I complain about not having any room in the bed when he sleeps in it, it really does stink when he’s not there at all. :(
Behind bars. Totally breaks my heart. He does like his crate though, which is good when we leave him for the day and go to work, or out at night. But I doubt he likes it when it’s contained to it for 8-9 hours like he has been the past few nights.
The leg he hurt. It’s healing wonderfully. It was kind of swollen and if you touched it, he’d whimper.
He couldn’t even stand like that two days ago. Corgis are tough little dogs, and he’s proven that completely. He’s so brave! A lot more brave than me, that’s for sure. By Friday, he should be in tip-top shape, we hope!
Today Gryff met his second cousin, Luda. REB”s cousin is the proud, new owner of an English bulldog and he is the cutest little thing ever! He’s only about 5 months old, but he already weighs more than Gryff. I was so glad I was able to see the two of them play together before I had to leave to go on site for work.
They hit it off pretty much right away
“Not now, mom! I’m busy playin…!!!”
Um, this might be the best photo of Luda, ever. Caption contest, anyone?
I love, love, LOVE those ears!!
They did eventually start to get tired.
Puppy play dates are the best. It’s even more fun when the other dog is excited to play with Gryff. It makes for an easy going evening for REB and me because Gryff passes out for the next two days. Can’t wait to see little Luda again soon!
They grow up so fast, don’t they? I can still remember March 19, 2009 like it was yesterday. He had endured a 10+ hour trip from Texas to be with us. He looked so scared and was the tiniest little bean I had ever seen. And now, one year later, he’s the most handsome, regal, and most wonderful companion to REB and myself.
He is already wise beyond his ears. I have incredibly deep conversations with him and he offers the best advice to me.
Those ears can hear into the future and listen into your soul. No lie. I’m also pretty sure he helps NASA with those satellite ears. My little astronaut!
So, what does the 1-year-old boy get for his birthday?
A Frosty Paw of course! Nothing like a beef-flavored ice cream cup to celebrate your birthday….yum…(o_O)
“Really? You can’t wait until I’m done eating to take my picture? I’m eating here!”
Mmmk…no need to gnaw on the cup
I think that’s enough. No need to turn him into one of those chubbier Corgis (sad, btw). I like how concerned he looks that FOOD is being taken away from him. Oinker.
Yup. I’m a proud mama. He might really be a dog now, but that little image of him as the bean he used to be, is always going to be implanted in my head. *tear* Happy Birthday, buddy!
Jowls. It’s such a weird and funny word. He basically passed out since coming home from doggy day camp.
It should be noted that I was basically squeezed into one corner of the couch and his long frame took up the rest of the couch.
The snow keeps his paws pink and clean. There would be gross dirt in there otherwise. Yuck.
I wish I had taken a video. He started twitching and making little noises. I suspect he was running in his dream and chasing squirrels.
Yup, it’s a hard knock life for Gryff. But he seems to deal with it pretty well.