I think there was a dog at my human home before I got here. I thought maybe the dog was still here, but I have looked for that dog everywhere, using my best sniffing, and can’t find that food-stealing dog anywhere.

But here’s why I think she might still be here–When I’m not looking, my food disappears each night and doesn’t return until morning. So that dog has to be taking it when I’m asleep. I don’t know how that dog goes without sleep, but since my human mommy and daddy are asleep at the same time, I know it has to be that sneaky, daytime-sleeping dog.

I think the dog is a female because once in a while, the human mommy and daddy call me “Maizie.” And they get mad if I don’t answer to that name. I don’t know why they do that, but they usually apologize and call me Trinity or Trin and pet my head afterwards.

I am busy taking a nap today, so I’m going to let the Mom person have access to MY keyboard just this once. If I’m not satisfied with what she writes, I’m taking it away from her.

Dear Maizie Fans:

Our family has learned some sad news. Maizie has cancer.

She has had several benign growths removed recently, but the last one was malignant and she has other lumps on various parts of her body. We have elected to let nature take its course.

While we could pursue treatment for her, it’s costly and doesn’t have a great success rate. Maizie has handled the multiple surgeries well, but since she’s been such a great dog, we can’t bear to subject her to the difficulties that normally ensue from cancer treatment.

She is still a happy girl and often gives us her “cute puppy looks” when it’s playtime. She still jumps up and down when one of her favorite people arrives. She can’t wait to jump into the “big water bowls” when she gets a chance. She is eating pretty normally and still fond of chewing on bones.

My least favorite thing about my people is that they are very busy. They seldom have time to give me sufficient head scratches and belly rubs. This is just not cool.

Now they seem preoccupied with someone new…a little Dad person. At least that’s what he looks like to me. He’s very short, has blonde hair, and blue eyes. The last time I saw him he was unable to do much, except sit on the floor or crawl on his hands and knees very slowly. He sleeps almost as much as I do. I can’t understand the gibberish often emanating from his mouth. He often holds things in his hand. Is he a band conductor or something?

When he gets unhappy, he makes an awful racket. I don’t know what he’s doing, but his version of barking is very distasteful to my ears. And my whole group of people go running to him when he does this. Why would you run toward that??? 

The Mom person and Dad person will play with him all freaking day. Don’t ask me why. They’re just weird. What could be more fascinating than me?

While the Mom person generally feeds me a scoop of my dog food in my trusty green china bowl, there are additional “bowls” that I get to at least lick when the Mom person is finished with them.

She eats from a lot of these and for some inexplicable reason throws them away afterwards. They come in a cardboard box and stay in the really cold part of the refrigerator until she’s ready to eat them. She must not want the Dad person to know she eats them, because she seldom eats them when he’s around. And if you ask me, his food is way more interesting than hers! There can’t be enough food in those bowls to keep her fed well.

The bowls are also kind of flimsy. My green bowl doesn’t bend and is not easily moved. This is ideal for licking them at the end of a meal. But the flimsy bowls slide all over the place and this is a problem, because the Mom person usually gives them to me when she’s finished eating the 5 bites of food in them.

As you may have deduced, I drink a lot of water. Especially in the summertime. I seem to need a lot of water right after I come in from protecting my yard from the winged invaders. Quite obviously, it takes a lot of energy to ensure my people and my yard are safe from these vermin. That’s why I need the water after I come inside.

The Mom person can take a long time to refill my water bowl. I don’t understand why this is. She goes by it several times a day–the woman must be brain damaged.

But, I don’t seem to have to worry about that these days! The Mom person got me a new water bowl–it’s rather enormous and has this big bubble-like thing at the back of it.

I don’t know how the Mom person does this, but the water bowl never seems to run out of water anymore. No matter how much I drink, the water bowl stays full! It must be magic. 

The Mom person and I do not exactly agree on my food. I will grant you that she buys me tasty food, but she and I don’t see eye to eye on the matter of how empty my bowl should be before she refills it. Doesn’t she know that it’s my food and thus, I should control when it gets refilled?

She maintains that it should be really empty–absolutely no food in the bowl, no matter how long and how stale it gets. I espouse the “sniff test method” and if I think it’s past its expiration date, I’m not eating it. Besides, the last few morsels are usually pretty difficult for me to get to, since the ornery little suckers move to the outside of my bowl where it’s hard for me to get my rather large, lumpy nose and mouth positioned so that I can eat it.

I’m getting lumpy. Seriously lumpy. I have lumps on my nose, my legs and my torso. This does not exactly make me jump for frisbees, folks.

One got so big that the Mom person made me go to the place where they often stick me. The people are nice enough…I’m just not wild about what goes on there. There are weird smells and I have to heel and I just want to get out of there as fast as I can before they can stick me again.

The last time I went I not only got “stuck,” but I had to spend an entire night there! It was the longest night of my life. There were all kinds of dogs there, barking and whining. We were all together in one big room and we had to eat weird dog food and drink weird water.

And I don’t even know how I got there. One minute they were sticking me and the next minute I was in that room with all the other dogs and I had a wowie-owie on my leg. They wouldn’t even let me lick it to make it feel better…it had this weird kind of meshy fur all around it.

It’s been a long time since I played in the Big Water Bowl. Honestly, I had begun to wonder if I had done something wrong while there the last time. When the Mom person leaves with those ominous suitcases and bags, she gets angry if I hop in the back of the thing with the  round legs.

But, today I got to go with her and the Dad person both! And when I was whimpering, as usual, once we got inside the green metal gates, I noticed that there was a NEW big water bowl. I say, big only because my regular water bowls are very small by comparison.

However, this is a bit of a misnomer (Yes, I know the word misnomer, because I live with very brainy people.) since this big water bowl is much smaller than the old big water bowl. The new water bowl is in front of the gray house with the big back porch (great for naps on a warm afternoon, by the way) instead of near the big back porch.

I complained to the Mom person about not being allowed on her laptop. She said I wasn’t allowed on it because I shed too much and she’s writing yet another paper for some certification she’s working on. (PLEASE–do not give her any other ideas about getting more certifications…whatever those are…I don’t get my head scratched nearly as much when she’s getting one.)

The only papers I have ever cared about were the ones they let me use when I was a pup. Even then, I was sequestered to the cold tile floors of the house. NOT my idea of fun. I used to pout about it, but it never seemed to get me released from paper-and-tile-land. They did let me on a warmer floor when they realized I had chewed all the furniture legs in paper-and-tile-land.

But, according to some other papers (According to the Mom person, these papers cost a lot of money and have something to do with a Kennel Association. I don’t get how dog kennels get together or even why they get together, but apparently these kennels have a lot to talk about.) I am about to have a rather monumental birthday.

 According to the mom person everyone, including me, has a birthday. I’m not exactly sure what a birthday is, but I know that it’s an actual day and that on mine, I get an extra big bone to chew. Thus, I have concluded that birthdays are a good thing. I just wish they happened more frequently.

The mom person also said that the older mom person is having a big birthday celebration today. For those of you who don’t know, the older mom person and her mate come to my home every time the weather gets really cold. She does a lot of the same things that the mom person does, but she does them slower.

I’m not sure why she does them slower, but my theory is that the more gray fur one has on his or her head, the slower that person moves. That must be because the gray fur weighs more. I’m pretty sure this is true, because I’m moving slower, too and the mom person says I have some gray fur as well. However, I’m not sure I always get the straight scoop from the mom person.

The gray fur must make your joints hurt. I don’t really like gray fur for that reason.

I don’t understand celebrations, but I know it means that there are lots of people show up and there are usually good table scraps at celebrations. Therefore, I am pro-celebration.

I really like the older mom person. She understands me.

If the mom or dad person are not around, she makes sure I get to go out whenever I want (Roughly 10 times a day is optimal.), and she makes sure I have food and water in my bowls. She sits for long periods of time and that allows for maximum head scratching and petting and one can never have too many head scratches or people stroking my fur.

She must sit more often because the gray fur is getting too heavy.

Since she seems to smile whenever I appear, I told the mom person that I should go to the big birthday celebration. I even told her I would bring my biggest bone as a present for her.

But the mom person said no. (By the way, I’m anti-no.)

I told her I could just get in her lab-sized suitcase, but she said she needed that space for her fur coverings. She sure needs a lot of fur coverings, too. Why do people need that many? I only need one. Mine works for every occasion, even for celebrations.

So, older mom person? If you’re reading this, Happy Big Birthday Celebration.

I’ll have to mail you the bone.

You May Also Like: Maizie’s Musings: Road Trips; Maizie’s Musings: Hopping Invaders; and Maizie’s Musings: My Playmates???