Rain and Travel and Stuff

*whew* Talking about harrowing travel. I’ve been going back and forth between Utah and MasterChewSits, and the weather has been terrible. And AirFiona doesn’t exactly have the latest and greatest high-tech navigation instruments.


Actually, AirFiona’s amenities are a bit, ah, sparse. I mean, the in-flight movies all star Will Ferrell. *sheesh*

Anyhoo, because of the weather, I’d had to fly directly to and from MasterChewSits without stopping at any of the Bad Sport contestants’ houses to sample the contents of their fridges um, I mean, to verify their stories of bad-sport-ed-ness. But if the weather cooperates, I’ll be raiding your fridges making site visits this week.

In the meantime, I have had my annual vet appointment, and I’m disgustingly healthy. I’ve also been practicing my bitey-face moves, so when Dexter and I next get a chance to play bitey-face, I’ll be ready.


And I got in some quality Frisbee time, too.


We had a minor anti-gravity incident, as well. :-)

Heehee.

Oh, and I mentioned it rained, right? Mom got the clever idea of putting us in coats so we could go play in the rain and not come back in looking like drowned rats.

That worked for me.


Not so much for Abby. She sulked and refused to move until Mom took her coat off. What a doofus! There were Frisbees to be chased. And yet she stood there. Weirdo.


I’m not 100% sure about this twin look, though.


I think it’s a genetic flaw. Apparently Granny used to dress my uncles (Mom’s brothers) in the exact same outfits, so whenever one got lost (like when my older uncle escaped the 'organized family fun' got lost at Paddington Station in London) Granny could just go to the nearest security person and point at my other uncle and say, “He looks just like him.” Apparently my uncles were not amused by this.

The coats were really nifty, but I’m not sure about being dressed like my sister. And we came in looking like drowned rats anyway.


Anyhoo, we’ve had terrible weather the last few days; rain, sleet, hail, wind. Our snow got really soft, and a few times Mom sunk in to the snow past her knees (snow that had been previously packed down firmly) and muttered a bunch of HBO words. It was better today, and it sounds like we might get a “real” storm (with snow) tomorrow. Which would be a good thing, because Mom and Dad didn’t ski the three days it was raining (they finally went today) which mean that they totally ruined all of our attempts to throw wild “open-the-refrigerator” parties.


*sigh*

On a final note, while I’m happy to see more and more Bad Sport entries for MangoMinster, there has not been a subsequent flood of bribes to the judge (i.e., Me). There are a few of you who have made some interesting offers (I’ll be stopping by this week, Brutus!), but I fully expect ALL Bad Sports to offer significant bribes. I’m just saying…

*kissey face*
-Fiona, and Abby the Hippobottomus

Abby is a Bad Sport

Okay, the time has come to admit it to myself (and the rest of the world). I really don’t like to speak poorly of blood relatives, but the truth is the truth.

Abby is a Bad Sport. As such, I'm entering her in the Bad Sport category in MangoMinster 2011.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I know Bad Sports when I see them, and Abby is a Bad Sport. You know that extra 15 pounds Abby has on me? I have a feeling that she's channeling all 15 pounds of Great Uncle Billy the Evil.

I should have known when Mom and Dad first brought her home that I was in trouble.


She had ALL the toys. First night home.

And MY large-doggie Dingo


And she was trying to steal MY chewie, even though she already had one of her own (and she didn’t even have real teeth).


Rotten little puppy. I mean, it wasn’t like I had something she didn’t. She just wanted what I had. This hasn’t changed, BTW. If I’ve got something, she wants it – not because she doesn’t have one of whatever it is, but merely because I’ve got it. And she employs her super-sharp-specifically-designed-to—annoy bark until Mom and Dad can’t take it any longer and give Abby what she wants. Bad Sport! Oy.

This should have been an indicator of things to come. Keep in mind that I was a wizened year and a half old at this point, and Abby the Evil was but 8 weeks. Eight weeks!!!

Crazy Eyes at an early age.

At a mere 10 weeks old, she had already started her plans for World Domination by taking the top spot on the stairs. Yeah, I was SO out of there!


She even created her own secret underground lair. Only evil super-geniuses have secret underground lairs, right?


Stealing food? Yep. She does it. Here she’s trying to steal Mom’s birthday cake!!! I mean, how low can you get?!? And Mom had to do everything she possibly could to protect her cake.


And a bully? She was bullying me when she was just a wee thing.


"But Fi," you're saying, "She is just a puppy. How can she possibly be considered a Bad Sport when she's just doing puppy things?"

Yeah, well, you can be a Bad Sport at any age, and it's not like she ever grew out of any of this behavior.

She still bullies me.

My poor ear!!!

She's scary. Seriously scary.


Oh, and she's possessed. She's got crazy eyes. And see that backwards head? Demonic possession. I think demonic possession totally qualifies her to be a Bad Sport.


Oh, and Mom is helping me write this at 8:30pm, and Abby keeps tossing one of her stuffed balls onto Mom's computer (really - she can throw balls with annoying accuracy) keyboard because Mom is not paying attention to her. You know, other than writing a post All About Her. *sigh*

But I know you are still thinking that she's just a Cracker dog. Nope. She doesn't do ANYTHING unless there is a treat involved. It is like -2 degrees out, and she won't come in until Mom PROVES that she's got Bil-jacs. Seriously.


See that look on her face? Yep. She's not budging until the Bil-jacs are produced. (And she was born on the ice planet Hoth, so she can sit in the snow ALL DAY LONG.)

Other proof that she's a Bad Sport?!?

1) No stuffie is safe from her:


2) She has gone to more 'remedial obedience' classes than I can count...

She failed the first time for bullying cute little doggies, so she had to go back.


She failed the second time for being a total nudge. Now we can only sign her up for classes that are 'by invitation only'. And when we do go, she fakes good behavior for turkey hotdogs.

Faker.

3) She is a shameless hussy who assumes shameless poses simply to interrupt my hike (and embarrass me)...

And, worst of all,
4) She LEAVES TENNIS BALLS IN THE POND!!! Gah!!!

Seriously. Tennis balls. Left. In the pond. *sigh*

Abby is a Bad Sport. That's all there is to it.

***

I know there are going to be questions about how I can possibly be a fair judge for a class in which my own sister is competing. There are three answers to this question:

1. I am not a Bad Sport, and while a Bad Sport might pick their own sister, I’m a good dog, and have no bias,
   
2. I know what stuff she has, and she doesn't have ANYTHING that remotely resembles a decent bribe (I did mention that I am open to bribes, right? This IS the Bad Sport category, after all. Bribes are pretty much standard here...)
   
3. Finally and most importantly (although bribes are pretty important), I live with this monster; do you really think I want to further encourage her behavior? Yeah, not so much.

Oh, and the only way Mom and I were able to finish this post? Mom had to give Abby one of those ginormous dingos to chew on to keep her occupied. She's diabolical, I'm telling you. And even MORE diabolical because since Mom has started this post (which was DAYS ago), Abby has all-of-a-sudden started to behave really well (fr'instance, she comes when she's called - what's up with that?!?). Which makes me VERY suspicious. I think she's faking this good behavior stuff. I'm just saying...

*kissey face*
-Fiona, Bad Sport Judge and long-suffering sister

OMD! I am SO honored!

Oh boy! Oh boy! Oh boy!!! I can’t believe it! I’m a JUDGE for MangoMinster 2011!!! And not just ANY judge, mind you, but the judge for the Bad Sports! I'll get to what I think makes a Bad Sport down at the bottom of this post. But I want to explain why I'm uniquely qualified for this great honor.

Even though I won in the Athletic Sporty category, I am a particular fan of Bad Sports. Many of you know that my little big sister TaiChi won both the Readers’ Choice and the Judges’ Choice for Bad Sports last year. And even though I don’t think I have the deep-seated capacity to be a Bad Sport at heart, TaiChi was my hero. I have a great deal of respect and reverence for Bad Sports. While TaiChi is no longer with us, she spent a great deal of time passing on her years of Bad Sport knowledge to me:

Can't you just see the knowledge flowing?

Did you know that she got arrested for biting a Mormon missionary? True story. And her ability to look totally innocent after committing heinous crimes was seriously impressive. (She had just come out of Mr. Bufus’ food cupboard – I believe she still had cat food on her nose when that photo was taken.)

"What are you looking at? There's nothing to see here. Move along."

Yep! That was my little big sister!

TaiChi, however, did not come about her Bad Sportedness independently. For many years she lived with (and conspired with) Great Uncle Billy.


Billy crossed the Bridge before I had a chance to meet him, but there are epic poems commemorating his evil deeds, and people gather from near and far to hear The Tales of Billy. In fact, some people have suggested that Billy crossed the Bridge at a fairly young age because it was the only way he could escape Interpol. Billy was a toy poodle who ran an international crime syndicate out of our living room. Seriously. He was always looking for new and inventive ways to get in trouble. He was involved in the Mormon missionary episode (and is rumored to have been the ringleader) and ended up in the clink with TaiChi, but that was just one of many Truly Evil Acts committed by Billy.

Look at that face.


Your first thought might be, “Gee, he was cute. How could he possibly have been the Spawn of Satan?” Look at the red eye. Have you ever seen any of the Terminator movies?


‘Nuff said.

Being a rather diminutive guy (15 lbs – a number that, ironically, is the difference in weight between Abby and myself… Hmmm…), Billy was infamous for taking on dogs of any size, although the larger the better. Once, he decided to fling himself on a Great Pyrenees. Rather than getting eaten like a sunflower seed, the Great Pyrenees just ignored him while Billy clamped on to his ear and hung there like an earring until Dad could pry his jaws loose. Billy didn’t just limit himself to dogs, though. He also liked to challenge moose (luckily the moose never took him seriously), and he was a rather vicious mouser. Billy was also famous for jumping up and biting people in the butt who turned their backs on him. Alas, we have no pictures of that.

Certainly, all of this would qualify Billy as a Bad Sport. But what made Billy one of the Greatest of All Time was his ability to sucker other, much-better behaved dogs into his evil schemes. I had an older brother named Ben, who was a very handsome and well-mannered standard poodle.

Isn't he handsome?!? Mom says I look like him - I'm so flattered by the comparison!

Anyhoo, Ben was a Very Well Behaved doggie, who had the misfortune of living in Billy's House of Crime. One night, Mom had grilled some steaks for dinner, and before Mom and Dad could eat, they got interrupted, and had to go upstairs to do something. Keep in mind that Billy was a toy poodle - even smaller than TaiChi - and certainly couldn't levitate - well, at least not to counter-height. Anyway, Mom pushed the plate of steaks to the very back of the counter so they would be 'safe' for the few minutes Mom and Dad were upstairs. Mom and Dad heard a few noises while they were upstairs, but didn't really think about it. Until they got downstairs, and the plate had been moved to the edge of the counter, and the steaks were gone. Completely gone. The only evidence that any steaks had ever been in the kitchen were a few marks on the floor and three Very Satisfied looking dogs (all of whom had beef-breath). Ben was the only one who could have POSSIBLY reached the steaks, and he certainly wouldn't have done it of his own volition. As TaiChi later told me, it was Billy who urged and cajoled Ben to steal the steaks. Yep. Billy was a Master Bad Sport.

Buffalo Bill, Criminal Mastermind

I can only say that it is an honor to be related to such distinguished (and cute) Bad Sports. Thus, while I, myself, am not a Bad Sport, I not only have enough experience to know one when I see one, but I have the background to fully appreciate the actions of truly superior Bad Sports.

Okay, so what makes a Bad Sport, you ask?

Well, first off, if you have to ask, you probably belong in another category. However, I’ll give you a few guidelines.

If your name has been followed with the word ‘no’ so often that your name has permanently changed from (fr’instance) “Billy” to “Billy-no”, you’re a Bad Sport. If your name hasn’t actually changed, but is spoken with an exasperated sigh very frequently, you could very well be a Bad Sport, although that isn’t a guarantee.

If you spend a better part of each day scheming, you are a Bad Sport.

If you have flunked out of Puppy School (or been asked to re-take ‘Basic Obedience’ more than twice), you are in the right place.

“But Fi,” you say, “I’ve read Mango’s Most Excellent Questionnaire to help me place myself, but I’m still not sure…” No worries. I can help clarify.

If you are debating between entering as a Shameless Dog/Doggie Diva and a Bad Sport, ask yourself this: at the end of the day, is it really all about YOU or is it all about YOU dominating the world’s supply of bully sticks? If world domination figures in, you are a Bad Sport. If tiaras are involved, I would hope that you are Queen of the World, otherwise you are a Diva.

Good Old Boy/Gal vs. Bad Sport: Eh. You’re probably not a bad sport unless you are farting/snoring specifically to annoy someone else, and every dog bed in the house is your dog bed. Generally, there is a pretty extreme dichotomy between ‘Good Boy/Gal’ and ‘Bad Sport’. If you have to spend more than a second or two thinking about this, you belong in the Good Old Boy/Gal category.

Kittehs vs. Bad Sports: Sorry, but if you are meditating 20 hours a day, you just don’t have enough hours left in the day to be truly evil. Stick with the Kitteh category. I don’t care how many hairballs or other 'presents' (dead or crunchie) you have left in your servants’ shoes. That’s not being a Bad Sport, that’s just part of a kitteh's job description.

Cracker Dogs vs. Bad Sports: I will admit that there can be a fine line between being a Cracker Dog and being a Bad Sport, so I’ll spend a little time here. If you’ve been called ‘evil’ and take offense to it, you are a Cracker Dog; if, on the other hand, you have chortled and thought, “Evil? You don’t know the half of it!” it’s a good bet you are a Bad Sport. Digging holes because you can makes you a Cracker Dog. Digging holes to hide your siblings’ toys/bones makes you a Bad Sport. Running in circles for fun makes you a Cracker Dog. Running in circles to a) annoy your parents/siblings, b) keep something away from your siblings/parents, c) avoid being given medication or other things that are ‘good for you’, or d) avoid being corralled to go to the groomer/vet could qualify you as a Bad Sport. Yapping at guests does not make you a Bad Sport, biting them and being hauled off to the clink does. Shredding things simply because they are there means you are Crackers. Malicious shredding makes you a Bad Sport. Ultimately, it is all about intention. If you just do cracker things because you can, you are a Cracker Dog. If you do cracker things to achieve a greater, more diabolical purpose, you are a Bad Sport.

All that said, it is impossible to truly define a Bad Sport. Bad Sports come in all shapes, sizes, and ages. But when it comes down to it, you either are a Bad Sport, or you aren’t. And if you are really honest with yourself, you KNOW. Trust me on this.

Oh, and there is one other way to find out whether you're a Bad Sport or not: ask your siblings; even if you don't think you're a Bad Sport, your siblings will know for sure! *grin* And if you've got a sibling who is a Bad Sport but won't own up, feel free to post an entry on his/her behalf!

Good luck, and let the fun begin!!!

*kissey face*
-Fiona, Bad Sport Judge, MangoMinster 2011

PeeEss: Given that this is the Bad Sport category, not only am I swayed by bribes, but fully expect them! ;-) I like bully sticks, and treats that can be eaten quickly before my sister steals them from me!

The Most Wonderful Time Of The Year!!!

OMD! OMD! OMD!!! It’s here!!! The Most Wonderful Time of The Year!!! No, not Christmas, sillies. Sure, that’s kinda fun, but this is even better It’s MangoMinster Time!!!


If you have never witnessed MangoMinster, you are in for a Serious Treat; MangoMinster is totally unlike those snooty dog shows that expect you to conform to some totally unrealistic super-model body standards and often have ridiculous haircuts as well. Seriously… who thought this was a good look, like, ever?

Or this?


Dude (or dudette – we can’t tell) – you clearly spend more on grooming products in a week than we do in a year!

Yeah, so, MangoMinster is not one of the those dog shows. It is a more, ah, egalitarian dog show. Your eyes don’t have to be exactly a certain number of centimeters apart, and you don’t have to be floofed out to within an inch of your life. You don’t even have to be a particular breed (a real bonus for mixed-breeds such as myself, and for the much-desired ‘mutts’ of the world). Heck, you don’t even have to be well-behaved (actually, there’s one category where you are rewarded for bad behavior…). You just have to have a desire to meet other doggies (and kittehs) (well, okay, since this is done online, you can be totally anti-social, if you want).

Really, all you need is a sense of humor and bloggie where other competitors, judges and the rapt audience can see you in all of your glory (good, bad, or totally cracker, as the case may be). Go check out the various categories, find one that you can shoe-horn yourself into and ENTER! All it takes is a blog post as to why you fit in that category (and a pee-mail to Mango’s Mom to let her know you are entering). It is Serious Funballs!!!

Why am I such a big fan of MangoMinster? It’s not just because I am a past winner (although I am). True, my family Totally Cleaned Up last year. See all those banners on the right side of the bloggie? Yep. Those are all the awards we won-

I was the judges’ pick for Best Sporty Dog (because I’m all athletic-like):


Mr. Bufus was the readers’ choice for Cat Dogs,

Yes, he was the epitome of the 'Man-Bear-Dog-Cat-Pig' class. Or whatever it was called. *grin*

TaiChi was both the readers’ choice and the judges’ choice for Bad Sports. I mentioned that there is a category where bad behavior is rewarded, right? Well, TaiChi was totally rewarded for her decades of mischief-making and evil-doing.

'TaiChi the Moocher' was just one of her many names... Cute, yes, but subtle she was not.

But the fame, glory and endorsements that come with winning a class in MangoMinster are not the best part of MangoMinster (even though it is pretty cool). Even the partying at the Mango Estate is not the best part (although that is fun, too). And the excitement of the voting is lots of fun, too. But the Absolute Best Part of MangoMinster is the chance to meet all sorts of doggies and kittehs that you might not have ever encountered before. I can honestly say that I met more friends from MangoMinster than anywhere else. It is, as the Relentlessly Huge would say, Total Funballs. Go check it out. You will not be disappointed!!!

My only question is where I should enter Abby.

She is totally shameless. Seriously. You should see her around the boys. It’s a good thing Mom got her spayed young, or Mom would probably already be a grandmother. I’m just saying…

Warning this next picture is R-rated. At least. Shield your eyes if you are of a sensitive nature.

Hey. You were warned. She is a total shameless hussy.

However, I have a feeling that she really falls into the family tradition of Bad Sports (here she is, at a mere 8 weeks old, having stolen my medium/large sized-doggie Jumbone; she didn't even have real teeth then).


Well, okay, she’s totally a bad sport. She still steals my bones, my toys, my treats. If I have something (even if she has the Exact Same Thing) she will bark and whine until she gets mine. Here is another example of her being at Bad Sport at a Very Early Age; she has the Exact Same Chewie, and she wants mine!


*sigh*

She is not a stranger to counter-surfing. She is a nudge – if I am getting scratchies, she will push her ginormous self between me and the scratchie provider. Yeah. Um. I could go on and on. And probably will. In another post.

Anyhoo. We’re totally excited about MangoMinster 2011. It is truly the Most Wonderful Time of The Year!!!

*kissey face*
-Fiona and Abby the Hippobottomus

Awards and Cool Pressies!

As you may recall, TaiChi and I got a box from Mango a while back, and Mom FINALLY helped us open it.


And guess what?!? It was our awards from MangoMinster!!!!

*gah* I've tried loading this picture 3 times, and it is still sideways.. Oh well, you get the idea!

Here is the backsides of them:
How TOTALLY COOL!!!!

We are SO EXCITED!!! Mom and Dad have all these skiing and car racing trophies and medals and stuff, and we are so excited to have our very own medals!!!! These are Super Heavy Duty medals, too!!! We honestly didn't expect anything like this! (And I'm using a lot of exclamation points, because we really are super excited!)

So, of course, we had to model them. TaiChi, in keeping with her Bad Sport self, didn't see the need to actually wake up for the photo shoot.

So I offered to model them both. Because I make a good model, if I say so myself!

We haven't figured out a permanent place for them (although I think I'm going to try to hit Grandpa up to make a 'shadow box' frame for them. *hint*hint*), but at the moment, we felt that Mr. Bufus should have the honors.

Mango also sent us some MangoMinster magnets, but Mom didn't get a picture of them. We also a cool bag (I'm telling ya', this was a great box of goodies!) with some Most Excellent chewies and a toy. Mom managed to get a picture of the bag and toy before Abby stole the toy...

As for the chewies, we might have "tested" a few of the treats before Mom could get a picture.... (Now Mom wants to find more of them, since we gave them the 12 Paws Up stamp of approval - even though TaiChi didn't eat one, she still approved because we were too busy munching to accidentally jump on her!)

*ahem* (But they were tasty!)

Thank you, thank you, thank you, Mango for the Most Excellent Award Box of Goodies!!!! This has been a great week, pressie-wise!

Speaking of awards, all three of us got and award from the Most Excellent Vizsla Dog, Dennis:

Too cool! Thanks very much, Dennis! If I understand this correctly, I'm supposed to give this to 15 people. Wow. 15. Hmmm. Totally at random (because I love all my friends) are 15 people: 1) Doby and Lola, 2) MollieJo and Bobo, 3) Farley 4) Twix (of the Most Excellent Paw-It-Forward packages!) , 5) The Schnoodles , 6) Sierra Rose , 7) Stacey Mae , 8) McGillicutty 9) The TN Bull 'Terrors' (heehee) 10) Benny and Lilly , 11) Lorenza (who is the Best Dresser I know!) , 12) Ginger Jasper (because I love kittehs, too!) 13) Abby (even though she shares a name with The Little Monster my dear sister) 14) Brutus (as an aside, Mom and Dad saw some Brutus look-alikes walking in the snow today and couldn't stop laughing) 15) Luna (whose Mom seems to spend almost as much time on Facebook as my Mom does... if that is possible)

*whew* That's a lot of people. Thanks for the award, Dennis, but next time could you give one that requires less people to pass it along to? Thanks! :-)

And on a final note, thanks for all the words of support regarding The Little Monster. I would like you to know, however, that I had the final word. (For now.)

*heehee*

*kissey face*
-Fiona