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So Sundays are a lot of fun. Normally, we all get up as a family a little later, mom and dad will go to church (or not), and then in the afternoon- everybody comes over and I have so much fun with all my human friends who come over! Dad cooks meat, which I get a share of, which is great, and everyone loves me and wants to play with me. Sunday Roast Sundays are the best!

Since the weather has been getting nicer, we have also been doing outdoor activities on Sundays- flying kites, going for walks, and more recently- cricket.

Dad and his friends will put those sticks in the ground, balance a little stick on top of them and then throw balls and hit them back at each other for hours. Now this would be all well and good, except that I am not included. I have to be on the leash on the blanket watching, which is boring because I know I would make a great fielder! Its just crap. Anyway, so here I am on the sidelines watching, other dogs all over the park or the meadow, and I am strapped to the leash, what kind of crap is that?

Needless to say, cricket looks fun, and I am determined to play… someday…

Well I finally got my aroma de chien all sorted out and perfect when I got the bath attack! It was awful! I haven’t had a bath in a month or so, and everything on me was starting to smell good again. Then, the best thing happened when Mom and I were going for a run along the canal- I spotted (well, sniffed) a pile of new goose poo! Before my mom knew what was happening, I rushed into the bush, started rolling and rubbing my head in it! I smelled like a new dog!

Mom was disgusted, but really didn’t notice that much. I was feeling great, smelling good, ready to go look for some ladies… when Dad got home. I ran, excited that he should smell my new parfume which is much better than any eau de toillette (unless something is in the toillette). Needless to say, I ran excited to jump on him, and ended up scraping against the wall leaving a trail of poo on it. Now, both Dad and Mom could see AND smell what had happened.

Instantly I was rushed up to the bath, mom even got in with me, held me down, and scrubbed me three times! It was awful, all that hard work. Dad washed the wall (he was dressed in a suit and tie because of his interviews).

Luckily, even with all the scrubbing, mom missed a spot in my ear! Dad now calls me stink ear, but they have let me have it there!

I am a puppy athlete! If I am acting up, or I have too much energy, of if mom and dad know they have to leave me by myself for most of the day without a walk- Mom takes me running! Running is a lot of fun- it is a big game. Usually we run out to the meadow and around it, and then come back. I love chasing mom, or running around her, etc!

At first, the runs were mostly me next to mom or behind her trying to keep up, or trying to jump on her because I thought it was mostly a game. I learned to chase after mom if she started running- and in fact, when I was off the lead that is how she tricked me to come back to her to put the lead back on! Now that I have the hang of it, however, I tend to pull mom along- going to the end of my extendo lead trying to get her to run faster so that we can chase geese, etc! I always check back to see where we are going, but I think mom has to follow me more than I follow her!

Mom might prefer to jog- but I love to bound, it is a weird thing to look at, I don’t just gallop along beside mom, I fully curl up my body and sort of spring along in a bound. It is all very much fun. I use my bound to chase other dogs and geese because it makes me get into a pounce position easier. Often I’ll bound around the house like a maniac because mom taught me how to run.

Dad says there is only one downside- now if they are walking at the parks or something and I see a runner or a jogger, I immediately go after them!

Woof!

Picture: Mom and me rest up and have breakfast after a run.

Well I suppose I am the first person in the Bengfort family to graduate from an Oxford education. On Wednesday, I completed my puppy school! I am going to miss going to class and seeing all my friends- Mr. Darcy (who mysteriously disappeared for the last 3 weeks of class…), Molly the Dalmatian who always beat me up, Quincy who rode in a Smart Car (and I was her favorite!), Cocoa, a big chocolate lab who was scared at first, but soon came to the head of the class, Hettie, the dog that didn’t want to walk, and Tilly- the stinking border collie who upstaged me at the end of the class taking the teacher’s love away from me to her (Bitch! Literally…).

But has puppy classes paid off? Some might say it has- actually all the dogs were extra rowdy the last day, preferring to play rather than listen! But I think we all learned some important things. My parents probably learned the most about dogs. I still go through doors first, but at least I can sit, lie down, stay (sort of) and pay attention. I can kind of come (only if I want to), and kind of walk on a loose lead (especially with my harness on). But I think if mom keeps it up, we’ll work some sort of arrangement out. I am working hard at being and becoming a good dog!

At least one person doesn’t think puppy class has paid off- yesterday on a walk, dad got yelled at by an English lady who said he needed to train his dog better and more. (I may have jumped on her, and I wanted to play rather than come when dad was calling). Dad got chewed out- he didn’t say anything, but luckily the lady’s friend defended me saying I was just a puppy- and I am! I mean, I am 6 months on April 6, but that is besides the point.

One thing I am glad of- I don’t have to ride in a car anymore on Wednesday nights! I hate riding in cars…

Woof!

Sorry about being sick and having my parents post for me the past couple of days. I don’t know what was wrong with me, it seems like just puppy stuff, but I am feeling much finer now, and ready to rock! Especially after last night* when I got to sleep with my dad the entire night and well into the morning. Now I am feeling a little antsy, but alright. I got a new rawhide cigar and I am going after that! But it has been all excitement for me, and then bigtime downtime.

Yesterday, after all the puking, I got to go on a Sunday walk with my parents. Unfortunately, the plan was to go to The Perch, a pub in Binsey, across from Port Meadow to get Sunday Roast (The Perch allows dogs, as well as several other pubs in our area, which is really nice for me, even if I get really excited! I have already eaten there once!) We took off, and I got to wear my long extendo leash, but when that busted, I got put on my harness, which is also ok, because it makes me behave like a perfect gentleman!

When we went out the weather could have been better. As seen from the inside (and perhaps these pictures) it looked beautiful outside, blue skies, puffy clouds etc. However, we weren’t more than two blocks from the house when it started spitting rain. Dad decided that we should go to the top of the meadow to view the weather, and when we got there (it was raining quite a bit harder, and horizontally) mom and dad decided that the rain would end fairly shortly afterwards. They were right, the rain did stop, but the wind continued- hard! I guess it is spring time gusts or something like that!

Needless to say we made it to the Perch without to much incident, I got to meet a couple of dogs, and hang out, and it was a fun walk- but when we got there we discovered we needed a reservation to get in! (I mean, a reservation to a pub?!) So we couldn’t stop and eat, which made me very sad. However, one of the waiters gave me a dog bone shaped treat, so I got to eat, even if my parents didn’t! So we headed back for home.

Along the way, we met another dog off his lead, whose owner wasn’t very nice. Mom and Dad and I just stopped there to let the other dog meet me, and we were jumping around, but I was on my lead so I had to be well behaved. The other dog just kept running around. The owner started to yell at him, but he ran away from her. In the process, I went to play, but accidentally bumped into the other lady’s legs, and she jumped back frightened and accused my dad of having a dad that attacks! (He wasn’t too thrilled about that). Finally she caught her puppy and she hit him for being bad! Ha! If my parents hit me when I finally came to them, I certainly wouldn’t come back the next time. It was sad, and I could tell my parents were annoyed by the lady. I felt bad, but what are you going to do?

Then we met some geese. That was funny because they cleared the path for us like they weren’t afraid of us or me even! We just walked through, and then they came back onto the path again, like nothing had happened. A Dog should always get the right of way to a bird!

We went home, and I got food and water, then my parents went to another pub that was in town to get their Sunday Roast, which was good, we were all happy. The long walk made me really sleepy anyway, so I was glad for the downtime. It was a beautiful Sunday and a good day for a long Port Meadow walk. Who care if I jumped on Dad’s jeans and got them all muddy, or the Perch didn’t have a Roast available for us? You can’t sweat the small stuff, I was just happy that we got a nice walk and it didn’t start hailing until we got home…

Woof!

* I did manage to scare the jeebies out of dad. While Dad was watching TV I went to my kennel to start cleaning myself, and because I was tired. I guess I wandered off and got into the laundry room somehow. It was dark, and scary and I couldn’t find my way out. Plus I wasn’t feeling well, so I just sat there on my but with my legs splayed out, shaking. Dad came to check on me, he could hear my collar jingling from the shaking, but he thought I was cleaning, when he found me, he was very upset and picked me up and put me in a blanket and cuddled me for the rest of the night. Mom and Dad gave me water and food to help me recover, then I got to sleep with Dad! That was the best part, it is more fun to sleep on the couch or in bed than in my den!

Picture 1- Mom and I in the Meadow
Picture 2- Windy day blowing my ears around!
Picture 3- I see Geese!
Picture 4- Dad and I cross over a red steel bridge over the Thames, or in Oxford, the Isis

What a sleepy day- Friday is a fun day because Dad is done with work for the week, and so I usually get to go upstairs and sleep in the bed with them until late! It is a lot of fun.

After the sleep-in, and some breakfast- it is puppy treats time!

Puppy treats time consists of me getting treats for being cute. All I have to do is sit, lie down, and watch the treat like a hawk going back and forth until I get it! It is lots of fun and I get tons of treats, so many that I get full.

Then it is time to sleep- until it is treats time again.

The only thing is I haven’t gone out on too many walks lately, they seem to be slowing down. I try to bolt out the gate and get to Port Meadow or something interesting and pull Mom and Dad along, but they get mad and stop and show me their hand which has chicken in it. So I take some chicken then start pulling again. But mom ends up getting frustrated and has to take me home before we even get down the block! What’s the deal? I want to go to Port Meadow again!

Who knows, I do know that mommy loves treats time- she is always saying what a good boy I am and talking in a baby voice. So probably treats time will be soon!

Woof!

I take great exception to this- I mean, just a person shape shifts? Not withstanding that I think I am a real boy, I do understand that I am of the race dog, not a pink fleshy human. And I am closer to wolf than they are! I mean is it fair that a person can become a werewolf and not a dog?

For instance, I am intrigued by the full moon- I love it. When we go out to potty at night, I can see everything because the air is so clear in Oxford- there are so many stars and the moon looks SO big because it is winter and we are at a higher latitude. It is beautiful. On the one occassion that I was in Port Meadow at night, the full moon was tremendous as we watched the sun set and the moon rise. All the water sparkled, and it felt like I was in a different place.

Often I will sit on my mom’s lap as she reads or writes her essays to stare out the window of the office at the full moon. People can walk by, cars can drive past, fireworks can go off- but the moon is the most important. The only thing that can distract me is another dog- and that is mostly just to make sure they are not a wolf, or a weredog. (Or maybe to see if they are a ladydog…)

I haven’t howled at the moon yet- I don’t really know what that means. All I know is that dad said I should howl when I see the moon. I think he said it jokingly when we were outside one night and I was looking at it rather than doing my business so he could go to bed. However, I have never heard a “howl” and I don’t really know what one is. All I know is how to make the tuantaun sound I heard on The Empire Strikes Back. I did that at the moon, but it didn’t seem very weredog to me.

There are no references to weredog in any encyclopedia. I suppose this is because wer comes from old Germanic English meaning “man” hence- werewolf is “Man -Wolf”. A better term for what I aspire to be would be “Caniwolf” from Canine. This would actually be ideal for me: I want so much to be a wolf, but like I said before, English weather and the lack of kennel (den), food, and radiators would be crappy wolf times. But the night there are full moons there is beautiful weather, and I could be a wolf and run free at night, and then be a dog in the daytime, loved by humans. I would bite other wolf-aspiring dogs, but not eat them because I just want to help them. And rather than ravage virgins (??? What is this, it was in the encyclopedia, so I just repeat it) I would eat toast! It is the perfect solution!

Yesterday night, was my first day of school… puppy classes, and although I was nervous at first, it was “smashing”!

Next week, I’m sure mom and dad will bring the camera to bring some pictures of me, but first, a picture of something I learned!

Hello, or should I say woof! My name is Winston Jacob Bengfort, otherwise known as Wraggles, Wrinkles, Winny, Win, bad dog!, Such a Puppy, Sit, Winston MacWraggles, Wrinkle MacWinston, Good Boy, or Come Here. why a dog needs so many names, I don’t know- I suspect it has to do with my mom who seems to come up with a new one every day!

Today, after a long walk in the rain, I decided that I should start my own blog. For one, it keeps me out of the rain- and for two I am four months old! I feel like I should be doing something with my life other than just sitting around sleeping, and looking for food. And since I am an English dog with American parents, I figure that I am just as interesting if not more than those other dogs in the park. So here it is- the world from my perspective (or at least the world as viewed from behind my ears).

I suppose I should introduce myself a little bit first- since many of you who are reading this have yet to meet me. My two main ambitions in life are getting toast- the most wonderful substance in all the world! And to become a wolf. I have been trying to get my mom and dad to run with me like a pack, but every time I get about three feet away, I get yanked back by that dang leash.

Which brings me to an interesting subject- the leash. Do wolves have leashes? I think not! And yet, every time I see the leash I get so excited. I don’t know why- I mean, I love walks as much as the next guy- a chance to see the worlds, meet other dogs, go to the park to eat cow poo, and jump on pedestrians! But when I see that leash, I go mad because I know that it will keep me from running into the road or jumping into mud or playing with bigger dogs and all those fun things.

I yearn for freedom. Every day that the kennel door opens when my dad wakes me up at 6 AM, I bolt out of it- not because I have to potty, or because I am going to get food, but because I am finally free! It is my den, however, so I do go back in and nap while dad makes coffee. I mean, have you tried to potty outside at 6 am in English weather? I don’t think so. When mom closes the door to the office so she can work, I sit at the door waiting, watching, ready to get out. Just so I can sit at the top of the stairs and look down, because I can. (Then I run to tear something else up, or grab socks and hide under the bed!)