Hello. It’s me.

That’s me … shrouded in terror.

The weather is crazy … cold (60), and showers were developing to the north.

The pictured shower belched out a downdraft that blew through our new backyard, where the screen door was open. Carnage ensued.

The wind blew through the house and up to the front door, where I was sitting.

The front door closed … quite violently if I may be so bold.

I was sitting in front of the screen door, behind the front door … so when the front door closed violently, the force of the air opened the screen door and ejected me from the building.

Mom and Dad heard the boom and then heard me scream.

When they caught up to me, I was a full city block away, about to cross a thoroughfare, leaving a trail of potty behind me. Mom heard me scream again when the postal worker tried to pick me up … fortunately, Mom yelled at me to wait, and I finally stopped running and waited.

Here’s the view from the scene of the recovery.

Mom held me for about a half-hour while I shivered myself into a calm state (if I were wearing a fitbit, you’d see that my pulse was literally racing). After Mom proclaimed that I “smelled like urine”, Dad soaped me up good and now I rest next to Dad, nursing deep tissue injuries.

I just want to relax in my new back yard … no more downdrafts. And I really need a thorough soak in the spa now.

Geez.

P.S.  Congrats go to Frank’s Mom, who was four days off in determining the day we could use our back yard (February 20 was the official day). Dad came in second place, missing by 5 days. Mom says we missed by more than two months, but who is counting? I’m too frightened to count, to be honest, after being ejected from the building.

Hello. It’s me!!

That’s my blank stare … Dad, is it done yet? IS IT DONE YET?

I’m tired of hanging out in the front yard. Do I enjoy artificial turf and a non-stop parade of golf carts heading to and fro? Absolutely. But it is time for me to enjoy my big ol’ water bowl in the back yard.

And we’re close. Real close!

The remaining electrical work happens this week … and gas hookups happen on Tuesday. Then we get to heat both of my water bowls!

There’s really nothing better than a quenching broth of chemicals, #amirite?

Hello! It’s me!

This is what I’d like to be doing.

But the work in MY backyard isn’t done … yet. So if I am lucky to get to use my backyard for a few minutes at sunset, I get to do a bit of this …

The yard is getting closer to completion … shade is coming and may be done by the end of day today.

The occasional geyser gives the backyard a bubbly, overflowing kind of feeling.

But the big news this week is the installation of the putting green!!!

As you can see, we were having big-time fun yesterday … but the backyard is getting done slower than expected. We’re shooting “over par” on the completion date,

We might be 10 days away from completion.

Without a fully functioning backyard, I was left with nothing better to do than take a trip to the vet for shots. My reaction says it all, #amirite?

I’m looking forward to the day … not too far off on the horizon … when I get to shoot under par rounds on my golf course. Until then?

Hello! It’s me.

That’s me, sprinting home at Mach 7 in an effort to see what progress has been made on my backyard. You have to understand, I’m sooooooo frustrated with the slowing pace back there. Get the darn thing DONE, #amirite?

There has been progress. We have stone in the backyard, and I like it!

I do get crabby with the pace of progress, to be honest. Look at the upper left lip … that’s my crabby lip.

Mom sensed my displeasure and let me see my friend Frank for an afternoon of pleasure.

I’m being told by the powers that be that we are about three weeks away +/- from finishing this project … three weeks away from having fun stories and adventures once again.

Things are coming together, to be fair.

See – we went from having a lunar landscape to having furniture at the bottom of an empty pool … #progress!

Hello. It’s me!

Yup, I’ve got a VEGGIE BONE!!!

Here’s a video of me hiding the veggie bone … nobody will find it in the couch, #amirite?

I guess if there’s video evidence of me hiding it there, somebody is bound to find it. So I took the VEGGIE BONE elsewhere.

Then I hid the VEGGIE BONE so well that I couldn’t get to it! Help!

Dad saved the day … he rescued my VEGGIE BONE!

From there, it was a frantic rush around the house culminating in the digestion of the VEGGIE BONE.

Every Wednesday and Sunday, Dad puts a VEGGIE BONE in my dish. Every Wednesday and Sunday, I partake in big time excitement culminating in sumptuous nourishment.

Maybe I could get a bonus VEGGIE BONE? Dad? What do you say?

Hello, it’s me! I thought you might enjoy a photogenic synopsis of what I now call my “January Journey” … with three images of my marvelous evolution.

January 2016:

January 2017:

And today:

I went from virtually no fur to brown fur to blonde and fluffy fur. My personality remains consistently vibrant, of course, but the physical transformation is something to behold, #amirite?

Looking back to January 2016, I was utterly stubtacular.

May you have a stubtacular New Year as you undergo your own personal metamorphosis.

Hello! It’s me.

The tradition in our house on New Year’s Eve is the serving of a delicious Grasshopper (click here). I’d rather suffocate licking one than not have access to one.

May you have a great New Year!! I’m looking forward to a lot of travel in 2018, as long as Dad gets the macerator discharge hose fixed.

Hello. It’s ME!!

I wrote a song for Christmas. I thought you might like to read the lyrics.

My dear friends.

Bought me wine.

And the wine scared the living daylights out of me.

But Dad drank the wine.

And it was a mighty fine wine he said as he became more giddy with each drop.

All I was left with was residual frap.

I spent Christmas with Frank.

We’re good friends, so that’s why he sat

… on my mat.

While Mom and Dad and Grandma and Grandpa and my Aunt celebrated Christmas,

Frank and I Assessed Threats.

Frank spotted something odd on the cactus across the street.

I dug deeper.

But I was stymied.

As my own Christmas Story intersected with another.

I ran out of lyrics.

So I end my song.

As the sun sets on my Christmas home.

Georgy Porgy pudding pie.

Kiss the girls and make them cry ….

Oh wait, I got confused.

Our backyard is coming along nicely …

But I’m getting impatient … MOM, WHEN WILL I HAVE NEW ARTIFICIAL TURF???

Well … WHEN??!

Mom says, “Why don’t you invite your loyal followers, your readers, the very ones you owe your staggering social media success to, to guess the final date of completion of the Casita and Back Yard?”

• Mom = February 4 (Super Bowl).
• Dad = February 14 (#romance).

Use the comments section to offer your guess. The day the pool is full is the official completion date. The winner earns a coveted Major Award. Just not this one from up the street.

Hello … it’s me!!

Well, it’s been a busy few weeks. Most pups are preparing for Christmas. I’m busy supervising my back yard.

It’s non-stop supervision. And you have to stay on these contractors, or the whole project can go askew.

I don’t know about you, but I like to get down into the details. No 30,000 foot view from my perspective.

Back on solid ground, I inspect the surroundings, always assessing potential threats. I find great joy in probing sand for potential lunch-time morsels.

I know the average doxie has an established routine … one that looks something like this.

I’m not against that, but before I took a nap I needed to inspect the pool equipment for rusted metals.

In a few days shotcrete goes in the pool. Then we are making progress.

It looks like the casita will be done around Christmas Day. Dad already ding’d a wall moving the toilet in (#goodmemories #careless #touchuppaint).

All of this work exhausted me. I began to feel bad.

Next thing you know, I set a #personalbest with an even twenty trips outside to go to the bathroom.

This prompted a trip to the vet.

Do you know what my x-rays revealed?

I don’t know what “gas in the fundus” is, but it isn’t exactly pleasant!

I was prescribed a four-pack of Cerenia and pills to quell the desire of my intestinal tract to pump waste materials through my plumbing every 45 minutes. Oh, and a bonus shot to stop vomiting. Oh, and some gravy flavored sprinkle-ings that are fortified with bacterium.

Mmmmmmm …. fortified.

That was Friday. Today is Tuesday, and I’m returning to normal. There’s nothing like a little bit of diaper rash cream to subside the swelling, #amirite?

Hello. It’s me!!

Thanksgiving weekend … and we’ve got it all goin’ on … Casita construction, football, and Christmas decorations.

Take a look at this decoration.

Is it a decoration? Is it? IS IT? This video tells you what I think of our yuletide pup (visit the website if you cannot see the video via email).

It’s a disturbing video, #amirite? Yuletide pup just sits there and stares while I do all talking. What kind of relationship is that? And I didn’t ask for the relationship in the first place.

I put my uncomfortable relationship with yuletide pup aside for a few minutes … it is Thanksgiving weekend and that means non-stop FOOTBALL. Watch me run the jet sweep (visit the website if you are reading this via email … http://dashthedachshund.com).

I spent the first half of my life chasing chupacabras, assessing threats, generally exploring the wood chipper of life with gusto.

So it shouldn’t be a surprise to anybody that I can tote the pigskin. For my next act of genius, I plan on figuring out what the heck a QR code is doing on a woodchipper. Maybe the QR code will grant me the knowledge necessary to deal with yuletide pup.