River Plans for K9 Kamp

Hello it is I, River Song, taking over as your Monster Pack correspondent for K9 Kamp because Pocket says memories of performing the camp with Foley makes her melancholy but I think she wants me out there hitting the pavement so she gets Mommy’s lap.

I love all sorts of exercise.  My favorite one is the zooms.  That is when I run back and forth, leaping from piece of furniture to piece for furniture, bouncing off the back of the couch like The Rock ready to drop Griffon’s elbow, and running, stopping, turning, and running until I collapse.

But I do provide quite the challenge for the walker, which would be my Daddy.  I am descended from the dogs of Mid-Europe who are known for their unique walking styles, featuring starting, stopping, turning, jumping, and attempting to knock down our companion like a wobbly bowling pin.

Now I don’t mean to brag but I think I am one of the most creative walkers in the dog world.  I am trying to get Pocket to walk like I do because I think we could go for the gold in the synchronized walking event in the dog Olympics but she insists on walking in at least a semi-straight line.

This is an example of my walking style.  I start on the left.  I take four steps forward then three to the right stepping in front of the human who has to side step me as I quickly take five to the left pulling the leash taut and throwing my connected human off balance.     Then, while he is off balance, I run forward five steps pulling him forward then stop so he has to sidestep me again, although at this time I would just walk into me but pet parents would rather rip open their achilles tendon then step on their pet.  Then, as he is leaning forward, off balance, I pretend to see something behind me, and run in the other direction.  Basically walking me is like standing on a balance ball. It is excellent to teach a human how to balance.  (This doesn’t work for drunk humans.  If a drunk human walked me they would seem perfectly upright.  I may become the first service dog for drunk drivers.  If they get pulled over I can get them to walk straight.)

Ao I anxiously await the beginning of K9 Kamp so I can get my walking and my sie stepping agility in while training my Daddy to be able to speed up. slow down, spin around, walk backwards, and dance if I choose to.

I have heard, in the past, that Foley and Pocket almost killed Daddy during K-9 Kamp.  Well, I’m just the dog to get it done.

A Late K9 Kamp Blog: Every Walk is Making a Memory by Pocket

I am sorry, my friends, that I am so late with my K9 Kamp blog but life got in the way of Kamp this year.  First, my beloved sister and mentor Foley went to the Bridge, and then my new sister, River Song arrived, and I had to train her.

During this time I learned something important about K9 Kamp, and walking.  It is not only good for our health, and a great bonding experience between pet and parent, but each walk is the chance to make a new memory, and when our time comes all we are left with are memories.

Before Mommy and Daddy lived at the village of the Pruned they lived across the street in a non Pruned village.  They used to bring their first dog, Blake here to walk.  When they moved across the street from the state mental institution they would still come here to walk occasionally so Foley walked on the streets I walk now when she was just a pup.

When we pass the entrance I see the ramp that leads to the mail room.  I pooped on that ramp the first day we moved in.  Then Daddy stepped on it.  He was so mad at me.  Foley thought it was funny.  

Behind the mailroom is a little drainage ditch.  Before we moved in here, when Foley was just about my age, Mommy had told Daddy to drop the poop bag in the ditch.  The next day when Daddy was walking Foley here a grumpy man who worked here told Daddy if he kept walking Foley here he would call the police on him.  Daddy got very upset.  Foley stuck out her tongue and went phfffttt..

Next to the ditch is a tree that Foley and I stood under and got our picture taken, with both of our tongues out, and big smiles on our face.  That was a really good walk that day.  I don’t pass that tree without thinking of Foley and the big smile on her face.

Around the tree is the grass area that we used to romp in.  Both of us would jump up and down in the high grass like two little bunnies.  Oh how we loved the high grass.  And every once in awhile we would see a squirrel and take off after that thing like nobody’s business.

Across the street is where the Bichon Friese lives and man did Foley and I bark at that dog.  It was all in good fun but our parents were always sure we would be fighting.  Around the corner from that is the community center with the handicapped ramp that I would hop up on and get myself tangled in before Foley taught me how to walk straight.  Across the street from that is the manager’s house who let us move in with two dogs when only one was allowed.  I thanked him by pooping in the middle of the driveway.  Next door to him was another dog who would sit in the window and bark at us each time we went by.  We gave it right back to him too.  I still do.  Up the road is where we met the wild, loose Yorkie, Orkie, and had to march him around the village to find his owners.  Across the street from that spot are the two homes of the people who would complain about Foley pooping in their front yard, and whose yard Foley would alway insist in pooping in once she learned of their complaint, adding a little butt wiggle to her pooping to add a spice of triumph to her rebellion.  Up the street from them is Mrs McAloon who, before we moved in here, told Daddy that Foley could walk here anytime because Foley was her guest.  A few doors down from her is the old man who rides his bike around the village and always told Foley, as she barked, that it was all right, it was only him.  Around the bend from her is where the Shih Tzu lives who was always loose and scared us when she ran across the street with traffic coming.  And there were houses where we were sure we saw Tanner Bub and Blazer.  And there was the Collie who would walk past us, very well trained, who sat next to her owner while we barked, embarrassing Daddy.

There are a million more memories I could list but Foley taught me that sometimes you need to find the end of your blog.  But next time your pup wants to walk and you don’t remember, it’s not just good for your physical body, but for your soul too, because our souls are made of millions of memories.

K9 Kamp IV Holy Moses

This week we kept it simple for K9-Kamp IV Do What You Want.  We did some walking, we played some ball, nothing worth writing about again.  But when we were done I weighed Daddy.  I did this by picking him up in my mouth and holding him, then stepping on the scale, recording our combined weight, then dropping him on the ground like a stinky squirrel, weighing myself, and figuring the difference.  Four hours later I determined he had lost four pounds.

Now this was good,  but he had last weighed himself on what I think was a more accurate scale, so I am not sure he lost weight at all.  Plus, while thanks to the K-9 Kamp organizers Daddy is walking and healthier you need to do more than walking.  Daddy told me watching what he eats and walking will be fine for him.  But, to prove him wrong I turned to the most accurate words ever written:  No, not the Bible, and not the movies, but movies about the Bible.

In fact the movie I showed him was the Ten Commandments.  After slogging through two and a half hours we got to the part that I felt was of particular importance to my Dad, the end.  Because it was here where Moses, portrayed by Charlton Heston, has reached the Promised Land, after 40 years wandering the desert and living on as little food as possible, and he still has a paunch.  So if Moses can do nothing but walk and eat organic food for 40 years and he still is built like George Costanza what chance does Daddy have?

We did find an easter egg on the DVD with a deleted scene and it a scene between Moses and his dog.  I don’t know why the dog did not make the final cut.  But, what was fascinating, is the dog was having the same conversation with Moses as I was with my Dad, that walking and eating well were not enough to stay in shape.

I have transcribed the scene.  Please to enjoy.

Dog:  Hey Moses.

Moses:  Hey Dog.

Dog:  Sure is hot.
Moses:  Yes, but it’s a dry heat.

Dog:  Why don’t you pick me up?  I am tired of walking.

Moses:  I cannot carry you.   We were doomed to wander for 40 years.  None of us can be carried.  Plus I would have to put down my staff.

Dog:  Hey, I wasn’t doomed to wander.  I just saw you wander by, you looked like you needed some help, so I walked next to you.   And why can’t you put down the staff?

Moses:  I never put down the staff.  I parted the Red Sea with this staff.  It protected me from the hand of God.  It is leading us to the Promised Land.

Dog:  First of all, that Red Sea thing was like 40 years ago and some of us think it might have been a small tsunami.  And don’t forget, you dropped the tablets because you would not let go of that staff.

Moses:  I did not drop the tablets.  I threw them at the Infidels.

Dog:  Infidels?  Please.  You threw them at Edwin G. Robinson.  The guy was Little Caeser.  You didn’t see problems coming.  Anyway, word around the watering puddle is that you dropped them.  As for that leading us to the Promised Land?  It’s been 40 years.  Duh.

Moses:  Mind your tongue dog.

Dog:  I would like to but it is dragging in the sand from the heat.  By the way.  Why have you never named me?  You have a pet you should name the.

Moses:  I do not name animals.  I've been through the desert on a horse with no name,
It felt good to be out of the rain.  In the desert you can remember your name,  'Cause there ain't no one for to give you no pain.

Tribe of Israel:  La, la, la la la la, la la la, la, la La, la, la la la la, la la la, la, la
Dog:  Not bad harmony for a party of wanderers.  

Lone member of tribe of Israel:  Zeppelin!

Moses:  Quiet infidel or I will smote you.

Dog:  Again with the smoting, no one believes you can smote.  Enough with the smoting already.  Hey.  I’m hungry.

Moses:  We are all hungry dog.  Hopefully we shall come across some organic food to eat and you shall get your share.

Dog:   My share is usually what you drop.  And anyway, Mo, I’ve noticed, 40 years of wandering and eating organic food and you still look like you’re running a solid 220.  I’ve seen people lose half a body weight after a week on Survivor.

Moses:  This is the size I need to be to lead my people.

Dog:  Just saying you’re a bit overweight.  Maybe we could stop and you could do some sit ups or push ups.  Maybe some light aerobic work.  It can’t hurt.

Moses:  Be quiet dog.   I am at the perfect weight.

Dog:  OK but I’m just saying when we wandered over the Wii Fit station it said you were obese.

Moses:  Wii Fit.  Product of Infidels.  Like the scales at the doctor’s.  I weigh myself at home then go to the doctor and I somehow gained five stone on the camel ride. over.  

Dog:  Are you on anxiety meds?   That can cause weight gain.

Moses:  I am not on anxiety meds.

Dog:  Nobody would blame you.  Surviving the kill the first born thing, the little boat trip as a baby, that crazy, crazy Pharoh.  No one would blame you if you needed a little help to get through the day.

Moses:  We are done talking about this dog.

Dog:  Are we there yet?

Moses:  Just over the next dune.

Dog: You said that 20 years ago.

Moses:  Keep walking dog.

Dog:  Hey Moses?

Moses:  Yes

Dog:  Sure is hot.

K9 Kamp III: Minute to Kill Him

I am very happy to report that I have completed another K-9 Kamp Challenge although, while I love my K-9 Kamp coordinators, if I am to be perfectly honest, I did not like this week’s challenge.

Now I have talked with Foley about it and she tried to explain it. The challenge was called Minute to Win It. I guess it was named after a lame TV game show, and must give thanks that at least it wasn’t named Fear Factor. Foley told me the challenge was geared to those who do not have time to play with their pups because they work or have other commitments. She told me they weren’t as lucky as us pups who have parents working from home. Working from home? What a crock. You know who else works from home? Presidents. ‘Nough said.

The idea is to squeeze in challenges even if you only have a minute to do them. Well to me the first minute of a challenge is just warming up. I mean one minute? The Patriots win the toss, elect to receive, run it out to the 30 then run the ball up the middle and the ball game is over,

So I decided on my own to change the challenge. I changed it to Kill Him in a Minute. and the Him is, of course, Daddy. My first try was to take the thrown ball and nudge it all the way down the hall and between the dryer and the washing machine. The timing to this was crucial. I had to do it just as the washer entered the spin cycle. Now Daddy came crawling down as I barked by the machine. I nosed to him where the ball was. He reached in between the thin space between the washer and dryer just as the washer hit the spin cycle and Daddy got shaken like Michael Duncan at the end of The Green Mile.

He was able to extricate himself when the spin cycle ended. His arm was two inches longer. Not that he thanked me even though now it was easier for him to reach the balls. I immediately moved on to my second challenge, which, also, unselflessly cented on my Daddy’s health. He sat in his recliner, put up his feet, and leaned back. I jumped on the back of the couch and used my deep, dangerous, “hey there is someone in the back yard” bark and growl. After several times telling me to stop Daddy got curious and stood up, good cardio, and looked out the window, good stretching, and finally went outside, good stair work and walking.
I was able to get him to do this three times. Every time he did it he got angrier, jumping out of the chair faster, moving outside quicker, his blood pressure rising. I tell you I could be a personal trainer for humans. The third time he went out I planned the new game. Sniff out the poo.

I took three little vicks in the house. One near the front bathroom, one near the master bathroom, and one between the bureau and the TV stand. Now this took some work. I had to projectile vick. Now this is hard. What you have to do is squat just right, breathe deeply through your nose, fill your lungs, and then try to breathe out your butt. You do it right, for a little dog, you can toss one about two feet, for a big dog, I betcha you could get it over the fence and into the mean neighbors yard (extra points for bouncing it off the Prius.)

Daddy then had to crawl around and find the hidden little gems of poo. Part of this challenge is to have him go by the poo, and back up, because backward crawling is a very good challenge. It took Daddy five minutes to get all the poo. It really wasn’t a great time but I think he can improve it.

Foley wanted to get into the fun. At night, in bed, just before Mommy and Daddy went to sleep, with the lights off, Foley started making a sound like she was releasing air from a helium balloon. She had been working on this sound all day. Both Mommy and Daddy bounced down the bed. Mommy held her and Daddy stroked her throat. As soon as they were awake she stopped, but Daddy still spent half the night awake waiting to see if she made the sound again. The next day he had to get through the day with very little sleep. This didn’t help him get healthier but did almost kill him. If Foley and I had a few more minutes we would have done the job.

So, while I didn’t get much of a work out during the minute to kill him challenge Daddy did. And that’s all that counts.

This is a bog hop

K9 Kamp Part Deux: Playing with my balls

Hi gang, it’s me Pocket reporting from K-9 Kamp glad to say that Daddy and I have completed our favorite challenge: Play with your balls. In fact I think Daddy and I helped name this challenge last year because we have two minds that have not expanded much beyond pupdom.

Now there is nothing I enjoy more than chasing my own balls. Or, should I say my own ball, because I am a one ball girl. For those of you unfamiliar with how particular I sm with balls I have several balls of various shapes and sizes but there is only one ball I will chase. I will chase it until I have gutted it and it doesn’t bounce anymore. We will then have a small ceremony to honor the ball, then put it out for the men who give it a proper burial in what the humans call the landfill, then Daddy lines up my brightly colored balls, and I sniff them, paw at them, and then choose one with my paw, pull it out of line and nose it to Daddy. He puts the rest back in my playpen and I play with that one ball for months. If it is lost we cannot play with another ball, we have to find that one. The only way for me to move on to a new ball is for me to destroy it. My balls are like horocruxes. You must rid the world of one and move on to the next.

Now for me this challenge is easy. All I do is chase the ball. And, being such a small dog, I chase the ball inside. Now, you might comment, this seems quite an easy challenge for a biped. Well, my friends, you would be wicked wrong, because, when we play ball inside the house, I darn near kill Daddy.

For a human to get the most benefit from this challenge they must strictly follow the Daddy rules. First, like flat on the floor. Then throw the ball....and wait. Sometimes I bring it back. Sometimes I don’t. And that is where the challenge begins.

Because I have hidden my horocrux ball and Daddy has to find it. And because I am closer to the ground than hedgehog who is retaining water it is going to be on the floor under something. First Daddy has to lift himself off the floor (push up) then crawl along the floor (cardo and good for arms strength). then get back flat on the floor to look under furniture, then back up to crawl to the next spot. There is no running done but this up and down, crawl and lay down, and the peering is a great work our for him.

So play with your balls is the best of all challenges, it is great fun for me and a great workout for Dad. In fact I think it the best workout any human can have: Except for the standing and moving.

This is a bog hop

K9 Kamp Challenge I: "Walking on Sunshine" or "Dragging Foley on Pavement"

We have successfully completed our walking on sunshine task but not without a few problems.

Daddy and I were getting ready. He pulled on his training pants, his tube socks, his sneakers. I licked my pads to make sure there were no obstructions and was ready to go. Mommy then interrupted us. She said words I dreaded to hear: Why don’t you take Foley along.

Geesh. Here I am. Four years old, in the prime of my prime, I am ready for my challenge, and not only do I have to drag tubby Daddy but now I got the Betty White of Yorkies to drag along. If we were going to win this challenge it came down to me: Pocket Dog. And I am never more worried than when things came down to me.

So we started our walk. Daddy used a purposeful stride. I walked with pride next to him. Foley dug in her paws and use her low center of gravity to imitate a turtle wearing a leash. If I may suggest to my K9 Kamp Kreating friends, that next year they add the stubborn Diva Yorkie drag challenge.

This lasted until our little modular home cottage disappeared from view. This was, like on all walks, when Foley gave in. Daddy says it’s because she knows she’s going for a walk. I think it’s because she’s not smart enough to know she can just turn around and thinks she has to take that long walk to go home again. But don’t tell her that because she will definitely give me a butt nip if she hears about it.

There is also one problem with this challenge. It’s the problem with almost every challenge we do. Many of us dogs are inside dogs, and when we go outside, and for a walk, well while we are in nature, nature calls. And it is very embarrassing in the middle of a challenge. Really, you humans don’t know how difficult it is. Imagine this. “Here we are at the Olympic gold medal 100 meter dash, and we’re off, and Bolt has a huge lead, but no, he’s taken a giant crap in the middle of the track and cost himself the Gold.” That is our life.

But the good thing is, once you have an early walk cleaning out, it gives you quite the skip in your step. Unfortunately Foley is a sniffaholic so we could never build up a healthy head of speed before something caught her scent and she had buried her nose in it. But once Foley was scentually satisfied we maintained a pace that I’ll Have Another would admire. Then we came to the office with the mailboxes.

There is a ramp there, but on the other side there is small stairway, and we walked up it, then across the porch, and down the ramp. We did this three times until the little old man who runs the office thought we were Occupation Wall Street picketers and asked us to leave.

Then we began walking down the longest road. It was here that we tried the running portion of the challenge. But Foley don’t run unless there is fried chicken at the end of the track.

Daddy tried picking her up and running with her but she didn’t like that either. We passed a home under construction. There were stairs that led nowhere.
Daddy said we could do more stairs and we climbed up them. Suddenly the top seemed very small and we were like the flying Wallendas up there. We climbed back down and headed home.

All in all it wasn’t a bad challenge. We would have done better without Foley but it is the first time she completed a challenge so a tip of the tail for her.

And I got my badge for doing something for the elderly, helping Foley in a challenge.


Oh my gosh, here she comes at me, I gotta run!

K9 Kamp Rap

Spent most of the winter wearing my snowcap
Gaining the pounds as I ate mounds of crap
Gonna hook my workout booties with a strap
‘Cause now we’re getting together to do the K-9 Kamp rap

Can’t wait to go walking with Daddy in the sun
Rules say we’re supposed to but I don’t think I can make him run
People are going to be behind me watching me shake my little bun
But remember we’re workin folks so it’s not just fun

Gonna watch what we eat, no more Frosty Paws
Gotta lose some weight so I can see my claws
And some of Daddy’s eating got to be put on pause
I am worried about layoffs at the local Shaw’s

Week two we are going to play with our balls
I’m tiny so mine are small
We’re going to play until Daddy keels and falls
For a little dog getting him to bed is going to be a haul

In two weeks we shouldn’t be fat
I’ll be able to get up a tree after that brat cat
I’ll fly from tree to tree like an acrobat
Though I’ll likely go splat if I fly into a bat

We can’t wait to play minute to win it
Although it might give Daddy a fit
But we won’t let him quit
If his pants don’t fit you won’t acquit

Gotta get Daddy’s weight down
Can’t keep buying him pants in the department that says clowns
His huffing and puffing makes Mommy frown
He’s either gonna bet moving or move out of town

Finally it will be reader’s choice week.
I am so worried I think I am going to freak.
I hope it’s nothing that will make Daddy shrek
He’s no athlete just some geek

Truth is I am still sleek and slim
I’m doing this mostly for him
Left to his own devices he is quite dim
But if he doesn’t lose weight the future is grim

So there will be no more wearing my snowcap
No more eating mounds and mounds of crap
Gonna work real hard and get Dod under my bootstrap
‘Cause now we’re getting together to do the K-9 Kamp rap

K9 Kamp Part Four: One Step Up Two Steps Back

It took us a long time to begin this week’s challenge. First, Daddy needed days of therapy after last week’s challenge. Also the weather was hot and humid. After a steady rain last night it had finally cooled and we were ready to begin the next leg of K-9 Kamp.

I was excited to hear about the jumping portion of this week’s challenge. I love jumping. But Daddy does not. It brought up bad memories.

When Daddy was in middle school he had a fitness test. Part of the test was jumping rope. Daddy was not very good at it. To compound the problem his teacher kept yelling at him “Come on Gay boy jump rope, jump rope.”

In this week’s instructional blog Koli gave us good news: Daddy did not have to jump rope. Koli said how great it has been for him to learn to exercise with his Mom. Except for the walking exercise Daddy and I haven’t done well with that, unless you count his stumbling, running, and carrying me a joint exercise.

Daddy thought we were supposed to jump on a curb. But here in the Village of the Pruned we do not have curbs. They are the number one cause of Prune People falling and not getting up. So Daddy had a brainstorm (Daddy’s brainstorms are like summer showers with the sun out, it doesn’t produce much but it’s rather pleasant.) We would open the screen door and jump from the enclosed porch landing, over the threshold, and on to the kitchen floor.

Daddy got my leash, took me outside to pee, he brought me back inside, gave me a treat, and I waited to be unleashed so I could go lie down, but I did not get unleashed. Daddy brought me back to the porch landing. “OK, Pocket, let’s jump!” he said as he jumped over the threshold into the house. And I watched.

Daddy sighed. He told me to do it again. When he jumped I went in. And kept going pulling him forward to the treat jar, because I had been out again and was deserving.

Daddy was frustrated. He went back to Koli’s blog. He realized that he should have picked something that was appropriate to my size to jump over. Koli, a large puggle jumped over a log. Daddy figured my height and weight, compared them with Koli, and found the equivalent jumping challenge for me: a dime.

Oh we had fun. Up and over the dime. Back and forth. What a work out, and it only cost ten cents, ten cents people, order it now!

Well we completed that challenge! Score one for us. Then we started on Stepping Out. We went back to the enclosed porch and this time Daddy stepped over the threshold and I watched.

He tried to get me to step up. I wouldn’t, and when I did, I would walk forward. I got very confused. For months I would walk in a house and get unleashed then get a treat. But now I was walking in the house and then going back out like a stuttering mess. In Goodfellas Joe Pesci shot a guy for this type of thing.

Daddy got a new toy Leo sent us that squeaked and I did a few up and downs because I wanted it but I lost interest. Daddy took the leash off since we were inside. He got some kibbles and fed them to me each time I stepped up, but when food becomes involved Foley gets involved and she kept getting in Daddy’s way trying to nibble the kibble. When Daddy ran out of kibble Foley and I went to the Lovekibble Seat and watched.

He then leashed me up, we went outside, and we ran to the end of the street, and then Daddy began running back and I sat down with no amount of coaxing getting me to move. So I got carried back: quickly.

The we went back to the doorway. Daddy began stepping into the house with a high leg kick like he worked for the ministry of silly walks

As he did it he kept giving me instructions: Sit, down, stand. Heavens! Make up your mind. I did it a couple of times but did not want overdo it. That last thing I need is a Daddy with delusions of grandeur.

He then took me off the couch, leashed me, we went outside, and I ran with him to the end of the street. When we reached the end of the road Daddy stopped to tell me what a good job I had done, looked down the road, and saw, separated about six feet each, were my poo droppings. Hey, I’m not the one who fed me all the kibble. And he had not brought any poo picker uppers.

Nothing brings the prune people outside like poo near their lawn. It’s like zombies hearing a gun shot. They come stumbling down their driveway chanting “poo poo poo poo.” Daddy hurriedly carried me back telling the prune zombies he would clean the mess then, after putting me inside, grabbed some paper towels and walked back up the street picking up the poo. (May I suggest for next year’s challenge the human poo pick up is very good, bending, squatting, cursing, cleaning, it’s quite the aerobic work out.)

We did finish the challenge by jumping over the dime again which was fun. I thought it was quite a good challenge for me, I got fed, I got to run, I relieved myself, and I made a dime. I hope everyone else had as successful a Kamp.

Failure to Lunge: K9 Kamp Week Three

I am ashamed to admit that I came in last place in this weeks K-9 Kamp challenge. Daddy said he wanted me in the Kamp to work on my discipline. I don't know if it was my failure to curb to the discipline or my fear of Daddy's unnatural acts that conquered me on this challenge. but during it our family was plagued with two questions. Why is Daddy lunging, and why is he vicking in the front yard?

I was really psyched when I heard that that this weeks challenge involved a tug of war. I am excellent at tug of war. The way we play is that Daddy kneels on the ground, I pick up the tiny pull rope that fits in my little mouth, and he pulls it gently. I make this very ferocious growling sound. Sometimes Daddy pulls the tug toy too hard and it comes out of my mouth. Sometimes I hold on and he swings so hard he swings me and I let go and fly into the couch, if I am lucky.

Daddy always sits on the floor when we play tug of war but for this challenge he was standing up which means he had to lean way over to play with me. I was very worried about him falling on me, but I am an agile dog and even if he had fallen I could have scooted out from under him. But then he did something he never did before. He lunged. I ran from the living room where we were playing into the kitchen.

"What the hell is he doing?" I asked Foley who was sitting in the recliner.

"He's lunging, Foley said.

"Come on Pocket, don't be afraid," Daddy said. He picked me up and brought me back to the play area. He moved the chew toy back and forth so I became interested.

I bit down on it. He stood. We were playing. The he lunged.

I ran back into the kitchen. Mommy came out of the bedroom. Both Foley and I were barking loudly. "What is going on out here?" she asked.

"Daddy is lunging!' Foley said as I stood in the living room and barked.

"Why are you lunging?" Mommy asked him.

"It's part of K-9 Kamp," Daddy said huffing. "I am supposed to play tug of war with Pocket while lunging."

Mommy said that Pocket was too small to play Tug of War with a lunger. She gave me the toy to chew on and she sent Daddy into the bedroom to go lunge himself.

After he was done he realized he could have stopped tugging and let me chew and lunge on his own but he was done lunging which we were all happy about. He then told me it was time for us to run. Since Mommy does not want me outside because of the birds of prey and we do not have a cellar we would have to run on our one floor.

This I liked. We ran from our bedroom, to the front bedroom, through the living room, kitchen and hall past Mommy who was making Monday morning breakfast when, after the second passing, she asked Daddy what the hell he thought he was doing. Daddy told him that we were to run for two minutes between exercises. "Not in my house," she said.

Daddy began to say it was part of Kamp but Mommy still said no. He asked if we could go outside with a leash and she said yes. Daddy put the leash on me, we sat in the driveway, and we played tug of war with no lunging. Then Daddy and I started walking in the thick soup late September humidity. Then Daddy began running. I dug in my heels and said "are you drunk?" Daddy kept running , dragging me behind him, going, "come on Pocket, come on Pocket, oh please Pocket come on." Unh-uh. It was 85 degrees, hot, humid, and Sunday was my day to rest. Plus I hadn't even had breakfast. Daddy dragged me to the end of the street. When he turned around he picked me up and carried me back to our lawn

Daddy was breathing hard, his face was red. He put me down. He grabbed the toy and weakly waved it in front of me. He then began to get into a sitting position, then stopped and I realized what was happening. I pulled the leash from Daddy's limp wrist and ran to the porch barking for Mommy "Daddy is taking a vick on the front lawn, Daddy is taking a vick on the front lawn, and now he's fallen in it.

Before Mommy could respond Daddy was back, picking me up and running through the humid air carrying me up the street and then back down again. I asked him why he vicked in the yard and he said he was doing squats. Right, and next time I pee on the rug I will say I am just squatting. Humans. He made it to the end of the street, and the staggered back to the lawn. He fell down on his hands and knees, then lay on the ground. He grabbed the chew toy in one had and told me he was going to do push ups while playing with me. I backed away from him because he looked very pale. "Fine I will just do the push ups alone," he said, he did one, then collapsed on the lawn. Then something wonderful happened. Mommy said it was time for breakfast and I ran to the door while Mommy yelled at Daddy's prone body about not holding on to my leash putting me at risk of being carried off by a misguided carrier pigeon.

The good thing about living in the prune village is every 20 minutes or so someone needs an ambulance. A spare one stopped by to pick up Daddy and dropped him off later in the day. He slept again all day Monday. I will try to do better at Kamp next time. Sorry that Daddy scared me.

I have to go now, Foley and I need to recharge Daddy's defibulater.

Day One of K-9Kamp. The 60 Minute Daddy Drag by Pocket Dog

Aunt Jodi, mother to our wonderful friends Kol and Fe contacted Mommy two weeks ago about the K9Kamp, a series of exercises for dog and parent. When she was contacted Mommy was sitting in the spinning recliner with Foley. Mommy has bad arthritis which was aggravated by a car crash and Foley is round bellied and lazy (when she's drunk she looks like Snooki) so they schemed to sign me, who is in Kardashian shape, and Daddy, who is in Jenner shape, for the Kamp without telling us.

Well we love Aunt Jodi, Kol and Fe, and there is nothing we wouldn't do for them. We have a wonderful, comfortable new love seat because she stole our old couch, a larcenous act but one that led to more snuggle for me so all is forgiven. So I told Daddy and he said the quick prayer he says daily: "Oh Jeeeeesus!"

Our first task was to walk for 60 minutes on Thursday. But we awoke to loud boom boom in the skies and a river of water washing over our little home. We stayed under the roof covering our walk way to do our business. We didn't go under the rumbly skies all day. But Friday was a new day.

I woke up Daddy and told him it was time for him to take me to K9-Kamp. He told me that the Kamp wasn't a place but an idea. Human logic continues to gobsmacl me. After we had breakfast Daddy put on his sneakers, his tube socks, my harness, then he took it off and put the harness on me, and we set out.

Daddy has walked around our People who smell like Prunes Village and one time around the perimeter, a word I learned watching Hogan's Heroes, was 20 minutes, so three times would be an hour. NASA, he is available. So we started out on our walk. Well, he started on his walk. I started on my sniff everything within the perimeter (thanks Colonel Hogan.)

So at the start of the walk I sniffed, and sniffed, and turned, and sniffed, and turned, and then I decided to use the K9-Kamp Golden Power of Crappo. The Golden Power of Crappo gives the holder the ability to crap in the middle of any challenge. I played mine early on in the challenge to cut down on the weight I was carrying.

Then there were the speed bumps. They were not actual speed bumps, they were impediments placed in the challenge to keep me from completing it. The first were the humans who were also walking. I, like most dogs, am absolutely breathtaking. I know when I see a human walking they are walking to come play with me. So I bark, pull on the leash, make Daddy do the arm jerk where his arm is going this way and that as he tries to control me. (This is an excellent aerobic workout for him.) About half the people stop, which cuts into our time, but what can I do? This is why the Queen of England does not run marathons. She would never be able to finish with all the well wishing she has to do.

Then there are the dogs who are walking. We bark at one another and do more arm jerking to help Daddy. We don't stop for the dogs. Daddy wants to stay on schedule. I barked at them that I am doing a challenge and would smell them tomorrow. Then there are dogs that are stuck inside. They barked their angry curses at me to get off their lawn. I barked back that I was on the road and they did not own it. The more we walked the better I felt. But the more Daddy walked the more he began to slow down and I had to drag him. Then, as I began our last trip around the prune village we had a road block.

Foley Monster. The Queen Diva herself. It was like being in the last mile of a marathon with a healthy lead and being saddled with Paris Hilton who wants to go shopping. Foley had to sniff where she wanted to sniff, bark at who she wanted to bark at, and use the golden power of crappo when she wasn't even holding the medallion.

Foley may have been able to complete the challenge ten years ago but now all that sniffing and barking takes a lot our of her. Halfway through Foley was dragging me down more than Daddy. By the last corner I was dragging Foley like I was cleaning her anal glands and Daddy like we were finishing the Iditarod.

Finally I got home and drank a bowl of water. The challenge was complete. I had conquered K9-Kamp and was champion. Then in his last words before he fell asleep Daddy told me there were more challenges to come. Oh man. I'm just a little dog. How far can I carry this old fool? I guess you will have to keep following to find out.

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