M had a good time playing with the doggies, too. Here she is wrestling with Loki, as Lance looks on, tongue lolling.

It took a little while for the two doggies to get acclimated to each other, but as you can see, they had a great time playing together.

Loki got a visit from Lance (Lancelot is his full name) this last Saturday. Lance is a purebred liver and white English Springer Spaniel. Isn't he a beautiful dog?

Da real story of da pizza of America, as told by M

M and I sometimes exchange emails. Last May I sent her an email that included this link. Here is part of her reply:


Pizza did not originate in Italy! No way and no how! Focaccia bread is the pizza of Italy and there are different variations of that depending on the family and province. But when Americans started selling the delicious bread like pastry, they cheapened it for mass production so the American version of Focaccia doesn't do the real stuff justice.

Pizza was created by a bored baker who needed to put something on his stale old unsold bread dough one day in 1923. He found a can of tomato paste in the cupboard, some mixed frozen veggies and some spicy sausage that Louigi, the deli man 2 doors down calls pepperoni and smeared, sprinkled and layered it on the dough. He baked it and brought it home to feed his family. They liked it and wanted to know what it was called. The baker in his broken European accent said "I donno. I make it today wit a pizza dis and a pizza dat, a lillo of dis, a lillo of dat." Anna his lillo dauta say "Hey daddy, we'll call this pizza". But because the baker wasn't so smart and didn't know how to market his new creation, he made no money on it and even told this new found secret recipe to Louigi the deli man, who proceeded to market the "pizza" which took off with flying colors and made millions on it. They're both dead now but if they were alive, they still wouldn't be talking to each other.

And dis is da real story of da pizza of America, as told by M.

Loki went through some milestones this last weekend. She outgrew her first collar. She gained eight pounds in four weeks, going from 21 to 29 pounds; she's now three months old. She finished her first bag (20 lbs.) of dog food, and I bought a 40 lb. bag to replace it. She also got her second bath (not counting the half-bath M gave her to clean her up after our walk last weekend).

She usually doesn't bark at other dogs, but yesterday at Petco (while we were buying her a bigger collar) she met a huge year-and-a-half old Great Dane, and after they sniffed each other a bit, Loki barked at him. M said maybe she was being playful; I think maybe she was just asserting herself. So far she hasn't shown fear of any dogs she's encountered.

She also barks at vacuum cleaners, mixers, and blow dryers. And she barks when I come home and she wants out of her crate. She's a very vocal puppy. But she can be very quiet, too.

She likes mashed potatoes, broccoli, apples, and oranges. When we're eating, M surreptitiously gives her napkins to shred and convert into spitballs.

In gallop mode. I should be charging the neighbors for getting their dogs some exercise!

Loki crouches playfully as the neighbor's dogs bark up a storm. Speaking of which, what's with little yip-dogs barking so loudly .. they don't have the size to back up their bark.

She prefers to pick up and carry various encountered objects as we take our walks. Check out that white tip at the end of her tail, it's not snow.

Loki loves snow! And chewing on tree branches.

Playing with the new pad.

Sprawling across the new pad.

Hey! I dropped my rawhide!

Loki will pick up her rawhide, put her front (and sometimes also her back) paws on the ottoman, and proceed with determined chewing. The rawhide in the picture is history.

Loki is crate trained, but she'd rather not be in it. Like tonight, as I moved her crate from the laundry room to the bedroom she barked up a storm. Then she went bonkers and proceeded to race around the house, barking all the while. This after our nightly walk. She's one energetic puppy.

Haloscan .. I like it. Problem is, it archives comments after four months. Of course, if you 'donate' twelve bucks that feature goes away. So no haloscan for me.

M washes off the mud and dirt.

A bit of a temperature difference between yesterday (60) and today (30).

Yesterday, after our morning walk (see below), Loki and I drove to M’s place, to pick her up and go to breakfast. There was a ten minute wait at the café, so M said, "Keys, please." And went back to the car to spend a few more minutes with Loki. It actually took fifteen minutes, but M came back after ten and sat on half my lap while we waited, which made my day since she’s a hottie and she did this in public as if it was no big deal.

After breakfast, we went to the forest preserve near her parents’ and walked the bike path a total of two-and-a-half hours. Well, we walked on the path. Loki walked in the leaves, in the mud, on the ice, and in the icy water. If there was a choice between a dirty, wet path and a clean, dry path, Loki took the former every time.

After our walk we visited M’s parents. M also washed Loki’s undercarriage. The silly puppy loves water, except when it means she’s getting a bath. Then she whines and complains and can’t wait to get out of the tub.

On the way back to M’s place, we stopped by the grocery store and M got Loki some rawhides. Thank you, M! You spoil Loki! And me, too.

This morning was so nice and sunny that Loki wasn't even in the mood to eat or drink, she just wanted to go outdoors. So after visiting the backyard (which she does every morning) and checking out the neighbor's dogs (who always bark up a storm while Loki playfully checks them out), we walked to the trail and then followed it for a good twenty five minutes. On the way back to the house we walked a street parallel to the trail to keep things interesting. It was windy, and Loki had a great time chasing blowing leaves everywhere. We also saw other dogs on our walk, of course, including one that looked like a Chesapeake Bay Retriever, but who the owner said was a Lab. And we saw the feisty Sharpei/Lab mix and his very mellow white Pit Bull brother. And then there was the girl/woman walking her large German Shepherd. Don't know if Loki will get that large. Guess time will tell.

Today I fixed the chain link fence gate. Then, with the gate closed, I let Loki have the run of the backyard. She had a great time running around, exploring. It took her at least twenty minutes to tire herself out enough to come near me so I could put the leash on her (I had fun myself chasing her around a bit). She was a tuckered doggie in the car, and had no problem sacking out during part of the drive as I ran a few errands (the library, Petco, Big Lots for mackerel for Loki).

Today, Loki is eleven weeks old. That is, if she really was eight weeks old when I got her from the shelter. Was she a lucky puppy to get me as her owner, or was I lucky to get her as a companion? Or was M the lucky one?