Friday, December 7, 2012

A Minor Transgression

With Santa on his way, I cannot stress the importance of not being fresh. Unless you don’t care about getting coal or half of last year’s chewed rawhide in your stocking. Then by all means, let nice make way for naughty.

But if you’re like me, and you’re hoping for one of these bad boys under the tree, then you will do your best to at least pretend you’re a good puppy (temporarily of course-no need to reinvent the wheel). Here’s the thing: sometimes I just get a bee in my bum. Sometimes I cannot resist the urge and I NEED to be fresh. It’s freeing, folks. It’s cathartic. And it feels. so.good.

Now, lest you think these little incidents are without consequence, allow me to present to you Exhibit A:
Here I am after my parents came home from dinner the other night, only to discover I’d gotten up on the counter, filched a bag of garlic bread, and eaten the entire top loaf. First there was a lot of pointing at the half-eaten little taste of heaven and yelling at what I consider to be completely unnecessary decibels, “No Sage! NOOOOOOOO SAAAYAAAAGE!!!!” This was followed by a short stint in the corner.

My grandmother says that when my mom was little and being punished in the corner, she would check every 5 minutes to see if she could come out now.

The apple sure didn’t fall far from THAT tree!

Friday, November 30, 2012

Peas & Carrots

That’s what my dad calls us. We’re best buddies and we go perfectly together, just like peas and carrots. I’m kinnnnnnd of a miracle baby, because the most terrible case of allergies has always prevented my dad from having a proper sidekick. But after a friend introduced him to our hypoallergenic breed, he decided to take a big risk. He found an Airedale breeder and had me flown all the way from Missouri!

{Here I am before I came to my forever home}

As the story goes, when he picked me up at Logan Airport in Boston, airport security wanted to detain me for a while in my crate (I’m guessing this was because I was so utterly adorable they couldn’t bear to part with me), but my dad was having none of that. He told them I was his, and he scooped me up and off we went into a snowstorm to make the trip back to Maine. I rode right next to his hip the whole way home and I’ve been there ever since.

About ten months later my mom came along, and now we’re a happy little family. And don’t get me wrong—I love my mom. She’s always good for a treat and a sucker for a new guilt-trip-inspired toy (especially since she got pregnant, because she worries I’ll feel left out), and of course she helps me type my dogblog. But I’m a daddy’s girl through and through. Wherever he goes, I’m never far behind.



{Otherwise looking adorable}

{Captaining our ship}

{Telling Dad all about my day}

{Trying on Mom's shoes--they fit! Can I keep them?!}
{Sometimes it gets tricky being Dad's shadow on the boat}
{But somehow I always manage}
{And as you can see, I'm an indispensable assistant}
In just 6 weeks we’ll be expanding our little family with another pea. A sweet pea, that is!

{Image via}

At first I was a bit unsure about the advisability of adding another member to our gang, especially one that can’t do much more than cry and leak and hasn’t even mastered the art of Frisbee. But I have a feeling us girls are going to be a great team, especially once I train her to drop her food onto the floor! Until then, I'm reduced to scrounging for scraps in the dishwasher:

Tuesday, October 23, 2012



 I'm totally gonna eat the punkins this year

Monday, October 22, 2012

The Final Fall Voyage ~ A Trip to Potts Harbor

Since the boat is being hauled out next weekend, we decided to make one last trip to my dad’s most favorite watering hole, the Dolphin Marina and Restaurant in Harpswell, Maine.

Not only do they have the best fish chowder in New England (which they serve with a homemade blueberry muffin), but they command quite a spot on a beautiful point overlooking Potts Harbor. Family-owned for over 40 years, the Dolphin always treats us like family too when we visit – and the Bloody Marys aren’t too shabby either (according to my dad…I’m still too little to try one)!

As a special treat my mom saved me her blueberry muffin, which took me about 3.0 seconds to inhale and left tasty blueberry crumbs all over my fuzzy little grill. 




 After that I was really in need of a walk so we pulled into port at Chebeague Island for a quick stroll but alas, some people were playing a round of golf and my parents (for reasons completely incomprehensible to me) don’t think I’m mature enough to refrain from running full speed onto the course and taking off with those nice peoples' golf balls. I don’t know where they get this stuff. I made sure to tell them how put out I was about my abruptly terminated walk:

So for one last time we puttered up the river, back to the boatyard where she’ll be buttoned up for winter and rest quietly until next spring (which, btw, takes a FREAKISHLY long time to arrive here in Maine). 

Not a bad little Sunday!

 P.S. How do you like my hAirecut?