The Annals of Miss RosieMarie

It is Saturday. I should have the entire day to romp about the backyard, sniff the amazing scents wafting in the breeze as I lie atop the picnic table and bark at Fred and Ethel, the squirrels living in our oak trees.
The key word is should. Until 5:30 my day was complete. It has been rather hot so I have enjoyed loafing about, sliming Mom while she napped on the sofa, and being generally lazy. Then Mom got the bright idea I needed a bath.
Dad told her he holds me under the hose once a month and takes me for a walk after. This method works for us and I am down with it. Literally down with it as he holds me by my lead down under the water.
Mom decided I had a lot of loose hair that needed to be removed and was in need of shampooing so she bought some doggie shampoo at the store this morning. These are the times I wish I lived in the country with Abby. I do not think Jared would make her suffer the indignity of a lavender scented bubble bath. He is more manly that that.
Ahem, well, it was not a bubble bath, but it was Organic Lavender Shampoo for Puppies. I could care less what kind of shampoo it was. Soap is soap and I want no part of being lathered up like a cowboy after a long cattle drive. My name may sound like flowers but I like to smell natural. After all, I am truly the definition of Organic, not some manufactured shampoo that makes natural smelling puppies smell like perfumed French nobles in XVIIth century France .
First she lured me to the hose in the backyard with honey words and cow-eyes but as soon as I saw the water coming from the end of that snake-like watering contraption I knew Mom was up to no good. Garden hoses are only good for filling my watering trough (Yes, I said trough because I need lots of fresh water to maintain my healthy coat and skin.) and Dad holing me by my lead in order to splash me with tepid water.
When the demon who was inhabiting the body of my loving mother saw that was not working she lured me into the house. Once more her voice was full of sweet words of love and kindness. The she-devil enticed me into the bathroom by telling me what a pretty baby I was then closed the door and lifted me into the air. I was terrified she would drop all 90 pounds of me but instead gently but firmly placed me squarely into the tub.
I admit she-who-was-not-my-Mom did spray me once with the tepid water but I bravely leapt from the awful trap to the door. The ill-butt devil deftly scooped me back into her arms and dragged me to the tub whereupon I flung all four paws outward until they touched the tub’s rim. Try as she might the fiend who had ensnared my adoring Mom could not make me get back into the watery confinement.
Finally, spent and wet, she had no choice but to let me run like hell out the side door. I ran around the house until I came to the tall uncut grass beside the garage and rolled and shook until all traces of the smelly water was gone.
Jodie later conveyed to me that before the demon left Mom’s body it called Dad at work and told him she needed to be shown how to bathe me. Dad may be fooled but we are not. Jodie, Molly, and I all know Mom is a weenie with a soft heart. I will show my dad the demon and he will get Mom back so we can all have supper.
After all, what if demons do not know how to cook or make meals? We could all starve. That would be worse than a bath.

Come here, come here, little dog.
Jump in the water like a frog.
Getting wet is no big deal
A little soap is all you’ll feel.
Come here, some here little dog.
Jump in the water like a frog.

The Annals of Miss RosieMarie

Today I am going to be brief. Everyone had the day off so me and my sissies got to spend most of the day outside. I liked it. Molly made a little nest in a leaf-filled urn that has not been planted and Jodie and I sunned in the grass.
It did not rain and wasn’t too cold. I was not even disappointed that my whole wheat crackers did not have any peanut butter when it was time for our snack. After all, a day off meant I got more than my fair share of frozen carrots, admiring glances from passersby, and no bath or nail trimming or ear cleaning.
I am not a prissy girl. Rather I am a tomboy. I love getting dirty, tearing up fluffy toys and chewing on the sofa when I can get away with it. My litter-sister, Abby, is the prissy one. She is such a dainty eater. Nibble, nibble, sit back and chew, swallow, pause, rinse and repeat. Oh puleeez.
I like to dive into my food with gusto. To hell with convention and manners. Speaking of manners, I am reminded that Dad came home late from work last night. He wanted turkey burgers and shared some with me. He is my kind of human. Later we shared some chips. Yummy.
Dad never minds being slimed after I drink water, lets me gnaw on his arm when we wrestle, and is generally an all-round well-trained fellow. Mom prefers to cuddle. She likes me to behave, not chew Jodie when I am bored, and play with my own toys. She does not like it when I grab tissues directly from the box and run to my crate to snack. I try and hide my finds but she always knows where to look.
Dad, on the other hand, is more laid back. Now I get into trouble if he catches me chewing furniture and computer parts. But when I make unintentional mistakes he is pretty forgiving. Take last Thursday night, for instance. Mom and Dad were playing World of WarCraft. Mom got up to make herself some tea.
Mom loves tea. Dad is manlier and drinks Mountain Dew. I drink water. Sometimes I sneak the Mountain Dew or maybe a sip of milk when no one is looking, but I am a country girl and prefer a more natural beverage. Water is better for my coat and overall good looks. I may be a tomboy but i now how to turn a head or two.
Anyway, while Mom was in the kitchen I decided to check out an interesting smell emanating from her desk close to her keyboard. I pulled a cord attached to her headset and got caught wrapped up in her stuff. I looked a little techno-hot, if you know what I mean. I was really digging this new look when mom came back from the kitchen, which is next to her office.
I jumped and ripped the headset cord from the jack and ran from the room. Mom tried to stop me. I guess she wanted to untangle the cords but finders keepers. Anyway, Dad came in and I saw my young life flash before my eyes. I quickly dashed into my crate and tried to hide the evidence but I could not. The headset was hanging from my head and the cord was wrapped around my body. All in all, I looked very sexy. Bloodhounds are very sexy anyway and the headset made me appear very chic.
Mom removed my hot new ensemble. Dad forgave me, of course. He said it was not my fault the desk was left unattended when Mom knows how curious I am. Whew! I just love my Dad. He cuddled me and asked me if I was okay and stuff. I later overheard him tell a friend if he had been there I would have been supper for the next couple of weeks. I am sure that was bravado because he adores me.
Who would not? We are the Green Eggs and Ham of the Doggie World! Would you, could you in a car? On a boat? In a plane? On the sofa? In the rain? Say you love Bloodhounds, yes please do and we will slurp a kiss on you.

The Annals of Miss RosieMarie

Today I spent the morning outside with Jodie and Molly. We sprawled across the oversized picnic table beneath an expansive oak tree and barked at birds, watched the trash men, and generally did nothing.
Our parents were at work until lunchtime, when Mom came home to feed us and let us inside. Since she is under the deceptive belief that I only need to eat twice a day we were given healthy, frozen carrots. I took mine into my crate and buried it until she left, whereupon I deftly unburied my frozen yummy and crunched it while Jodie and Molly watched longingly on the other side of my crate door.
They had already consumed their baby carrots. If they had been wiser they would have also waited. Of course, they were probably in a hurry because I steal their carrots whenever possible. I am a growing puppy and need to be excused for my ravenous outbursts. Besides, they are old and do not really need to be eating so much roughage.
I napped after my treat until Mom came back home from work. I was really tired after such an exhausting morning. It really drains a hound taking in all those scents, especially from the garbage truck. I am still learning how to distinguish odors and so it takes quite a bit of concentration for me to hone in on a particularly interesting one.
I would have an easier time of it if Jodie would stop barking at everything that moves and Molly would quit nudging me to dig. We scent hounds are odor connoisseurs. We are to the canine world what a human ‘nose’ is to Chanel, Lauder, or Lancome’. There is not an odor, fragrance, smell, or scent that goes unnoticed by our keen proboscis.
For instance, tonight Mom made our usual kibble and brown rice meal with broth heated in the microwave. It is healthy, but bo-ring.
For herself Mom sautéed sliced mushrooms, diced tomatoes, chopped onions and crushed garlic in unsalted butter. She added a small poached salmon filet and sprinkled it with a pinch of sea salt. True, I did get the salmon liquid, but it was not the same as the entire meal coming together in my nose and mouth.
After Mom cleaned up I crept into the kitchen and checked out the sink for any leftover dinner. Fortunately humans do not lick their dishes after eating. It has something to do with manners, which I think are idiocy. The juice is the best part of a meal. But I digress to another favorite topic. Anyway, I checked out her plate and found myself in yummy heaven. Mmmmmm. All for me since Jodie and Molly are too little to reach that high. Oh well, it sucks to be them, as dad would say.
Dad is working late so this means I will get to check out his plate after he eats. I love a late night snack. Meanwhile I think I am going to follow this really neat smell that is emanating from the bottom of Mom’s shoes. It reminds me of the neighborhood cat but I cannot quite put my paw on it. Perhaps this calls for more in-depth research. I just hope Mom has a lot of homework so she won’t notice…

Here I am

Getting Started

Hi! My name is Miss RosieMarie. I am a 9 month old black and tan Bloodhound. I live in North Carolina with my mom and dad and two sisters; Mollie, an 11 year old toy Poodle, and Jodie, a 7 year old Jack Russell.
I have a real sister, Abigail, who lives in the country with my Uncle Jarred and Aunt Ashley. But I live in the city. My parents own enough land for me and my big sisters to run around, bark and dig lots of holes.
Bloodhounds are Scent hounds which means we like to follow our noses. Sometimes I am so busy following a new smell I forget to watch where I am going and have banged into tables, knocked over lamps, and been stopped by walls. I once tried to dig up the kitchen floor but nothing happened short mf me getting disciplined and the floor being repaired. I just could not find where that captivating smell was coming from.
It was a long time before I learned how to bark, which some people call baying. I was quiet except for whimpering when I wanted something. Jodie would stand in front of me and bark and bark and bark because it is what terriers do pretty well. She would run from me to the fence where Ethel and Fred, our resident squirrels, would scamper and bark then run back to where I curiously stood. Eventually I found my big, deep voice and “Ba-roooooo”. I scared Ethel and Fred back into their tree.
I liked the sound I made. “Ba-rooooo! Ba-rooooo!”. Jodie looked at me and wagged her tail and gave me lots of kisses. I was 8 months old. Since then I have bayed at Fred and Ethel and more than a few cats just because it sounds cool. I really like the cats, especially Bob. I do not understand why they will not come and play with us so I keep baying. Maybe they will understand I just want them to join us for some fun.
Molly likes to bark, too. She likes to dig more than barking, however. I used to dig curious holes. Curious holes are more exploratory than anything. Molly, being a Poodle, had a much bigger vision. She is quite far-sighted for such a small dog and I have come to appreciate her vision. When I find a scent I like I follow it, which molly encourages. Eventually I find just the right spot to dig and paw at the grass and dirt until I find a new scent and move on.
Molly likes me to stay focused. She follows me and nudges me back to my hole with her nose and motions for me to begin again. Together we have reached the Nirvana of hole digging. I am so happy when Molly jumps around and licks my face after I have made a small hole really big. I jump around, too. Then I find another smell and follow it and Molly and I begin all over again until it is time to go inside.