While my dogs are mostly unphased by the local fireworks, pardoning when some folks get a little crazy, I’m often reminded of this comic on The Oatmeal:

For the most part, it still seems appropriate.

One great mystery solved: why corky likes to nap and lounge in the middle of the floor by the bathroom.
Theory: this seems to be the perfect spot where you can feel the most effect from the air vent across the room.
Smart dog.

Revisiting the problem of sending custom alarm tones to iOS, this time around I opted to save myself some pain. The first thing I did was locate where I stuffed my audio file; the second was plug my iPhone in to iTunes. Because when you utter enough profanities doing a thing it tends to leave a mark 😛.

I’ve been thinking for a while of setting a new alarm for the weekends. Presently, Misty’s morning meds rely on the fact that I’m usually awake around that time and if not, Corky makes sure I am; much as he made sure my mother didn’t dose off instead of testing her sugar in the morning. Habitually waking up around the same time has been useful, but lacks fail safes. Thus the alarm clock.

During the week it’s kind of wrapped around my trifecta of alarms. One to wake me up, so I can’t sleep through the others; one to tell me to get my ass out of bed; and the third to tell me I better damned get my ass out of bed if there isn’t a tooth brush in my mouth yet 😲. Each of these have different tones to help know the pattern. Normally on the weekend there’s just a late alarm in place to make sure I don’t literally sleep the day away, and I’m usually up long before then.

In thinking about whether I want to put the extra alarm on my phone or my tablet, the notion hit me. Separate device, separate why the frak am I waking up reason. I might even migrate that time slot from tablet to phone during the week as further reinforcement that it’s time for Misty’s meds.

As such the time frame overlaps with the first weekday alarm, as that’s the most convenient time to give Misty her meds, and bribe Corky into letting me go back to sleep. Peanut butter is important here, lol. In much the same vain: I’m inclined to use the same alarm tone for the same time of day and purpose.

That just so happens to be the protagonist’s morning alarm from Pixel Fade’s Ace Academy. Which is a heck of a lot more pleasant to wake up to than the 90 dB alarm clock I had as a kid, lol.

Every now and then, I kind of wish I had a camera capturing what I see. This morning was one of those breakfasts.

I often make frozen sausages with breakfast on the weekends, so that I can share with the hounds. Microwave, slice up, and vola. Well this morning was some roll off the counter, like a my ooor meatball impression. Corky nabbed it and trotted off. Had to grab hold and with my nose on his head, convince him to let go of the frozen sausage. There were teeeth marks where he resisted this, lol. Should probably just be glad his tongue didn’t get stuck to it.

As an apology, tasty dog treats were issued before breakfast, and Corky got the first helping of sausage.

Pissed off: Willow’s affront at my eating a cookie, and not sharing.

Happy doggy: Willow’s elation at being offered an actual dog treat.

Willow’s log, supplemental

Human slept in late. He was tired.

We went for a morning walk, it was nice. I got to sniff many plants, and pee on a few of them.

After Misty’s walk, human disappeared to do stuff. I was told to stand guard.

Human came back. He gave us hash browns. Also treats. I love treats.

Human sat at his desk typing things. I took a nap. He was still typing when I woke up.

There was a loud ringing sound, and then human had to go do some actual paper work.

When he came back, I got another walk. It was great, but I wish that we had gotten a few more laps in.

Foolish human went back to typing. I went back to a nap, after treats were given.

Human made this thing called sweet tea. He asked my thoughts, but drank half a glass without sharing.

There was more napping and typing.

Watched human start making dinner, and cleaning the kitchen. Foolish human, you should take nap like me.

Human made much deliciousness, but did not share the food. I was sad.

Oh my gosh, treats! Honest to goodness, meaty delicious treats! GIVE ME!!!! OM NOM NOM!!!!

I am so full. I wish human would give me more treats. For some reason: he says I must eat dog food now.

Human says paw prints are hard to clean off keyboards. I do not understand this.

Wait, am I getting a treat for all this good typing?

Mean manipulative human:

  1. Eat my snack.
  2. Give glaring dogs some treats.
Soft, squishy kind human:
  1. Give hangry doggos treats.
  2. Eat snack, and share with doggos.
  3. Give doggo some moar treats.
Willow, Misty, and Corky dislike that I’ll usually go with that first version when all of us want a mid day snack….

Corker’s on point

How I can tell that Corky is the youngest:

When I get home, he’s usually the first in line to greet me at the door. Typically at a quick trot, and a bit of bark. His usual nappy spot is probably on the bed, or under my desk.

Willow’s become smart enough to not get off the couch unless she sees something, or hears something more distinct than the neighbors. Like seeing me walk into the room before trotting over.

Misty is usually cozy on the bed, and will usually whine while dancing up and down the edge of the bed. Because she knows that I’ll sit on the bed to take my boots off.

Me: “Can I tickle you?”
Tickles Willow’s sides.Willow: “No you may not!”

I’m not sure this says more about how often the dogs get tricked, out how often I usually reserve the option instead of phrasing it that way. Lolololol!

Given the difference between how willing Misty is taking her pain tablet, versus the dropper of antibotics, I can only assume the key is flavor. Surely someone making medicines for dogs will have figured out a way to make the taste non-horribad.

Much like how the Flintstone’s vitamins my mother gave me as a young child, had a taste much closer to candy than shoe leather.

Which is also kind of a relief. I remember Coco, when she was alive, was a nightmare to give a pill. For a while she had been on a med, and we quickly came to the conclusion that if there was a way for her to spit it out twenty minutes later, she would, so you basically had to pry her jaws open and shove it down her throat. By contrast getting Misty to take her pain med, a little pressure towards the tongue and she crunches it almost like a treat.

I’m also left wondering if dogs have less pain reception in their mouths, or if I’m just more easily disturbed. Misty’s definitely recovering better than I did, from a similar bout of dental fun times nearly a decade ago.