The Oscars; My Night On the 'Red Carpet'

I just got back from my first Oscar Party and I have to say I really was the feature of the whole extravaganza; I stole the show. And I didn't have to resort to over glamed outfits and poorly done makeup.  Natural pizzaz and my general disregard for societal norms pretty much did the trick.  The party was at Sierra's house and while the number of canine guests was low (Just me and Sierra), the human participation was quality.  Sierra's mom as usual provided a delightfully delicious array of food including homemade hummus and simply amazing chocolate tuxedo covered strawberries.

Chocolate Tuxedo Covered Strawberries.  Made by Chelsea Joy (see www.legallydelish.com for other amazing eats)
Mom ate like 5 of these, I've had to listen to her regrets ever since. 

I was fortunate enough to grab an entire wedge of brie cheese off of what apparently was the human food table.  My mom scolded me and said in a quiet, yet fierce, tone that she was humiliated by my behavior.  But whatever, if Sierra's mom hadn't wanted me to try to cheese she wouldn't have put the "human food" on a table that was so easily accessible.  The night briefly took a sour turn when  all the humans started watching an unbelievably and unfortunately long program - now initially, once the program started no one paid a lick of attention to me but that all changed once I methodically started stealing things off tables and out of peoples hands every 10 to 15 minutes.  To all you canine readers out there, strategic stealing is a very effective way to get attention.  Brace yourself for the inevitable tsk-tsking, it just comes with the territory.

I caught a few highlights from the program the humans were watching and may I just say that Anne Hathaway and James Franco were just miserable hosts - really, it was embarrassing to watch and quite frankly it made me uncomfortable. And my god, Annes second outfit change!  I really don't even know where to begin.  People may think that as a dog I don't know much about fashion but thats completely false. (For an example of my fashion expertise, see the previous post, Exhibit B for clothing and Exhibit C for accessories).  Since my mom doesn't bring me to school with her or to work or to a plethora of other places I'd love to go, I have to find ways to entertain myself while she's gone.  Typically I'll sleep or destroy a pillow but sometimes I like to pull out her Marie Claire and Vogue magazines and get up to speed.  So anyway that should set the foundation for me as a credible fashion critic and now to briefly summarize my thoughts on Anne's second outfit. Oh the dress, the hideous diamond dumpling necklace and the bad 1996 prom hair!  Anne, it really was a tragic disaster.  Unless the entire thing was an intentional spoof, in which case it was hilarious.

Big Dreams

Correct from my Last Post: Before I jump into today's topic it should be noted that the stuffed item I stole is not a chicken but rather a sheep. My mom kept referring to it as a chicken (just another example demonstrating that she is losing her mind because clearly it has a rotund body covered in curly hair).  Anyhow, I must have made a Freudian slip. 


Now onto today's topic.   I think there is an unfortunate stereotype out there that dogs don't have dreams, that they don't have hopes and aspirations; that they don't want something more than changing nap locations pursuant to the changing angle of the sunlight.  Well I'm here today to say that we do.  I have so many goals that they are literally bubbling out of me.  I think the best way to demonstrate the things I dream about is through a photographic montage.

Exhibit A

I have dreams of being a yogi, of going to Bali like Julia Roberts did in Eat, Pray Love.  And the saddest part of this dream is it could come true! My mom and Aunt H do yoga THREE times a week and not once have they even mentioned including me.  Not once. Every time they leave for their yoga classes a little part of me is chipped away because I'm excluded.  Why do they get to do what they want and improve their flexibility and I don't? Why do they get to melt their stress away with the zen encouraging warrior 1,2 and 3 pose? Now some may say "Well Diggy, clearly dogs aren't supposed to do yoga."  You know what I say to that?

1. Downward Facing Dog.
2. See Exhibit A

Exhibit B

My dreams go beyond my need for enlightenment and spiritual fulfillment.  I want to be intellectually challenged, I want to be part of ground-breaking educational innovation.  In the words of mom's Alma Mater, I want to Invent The Future.  Again, here we encounter such an unfortunate stereotype.  Sure there are some canines (Mochi) who have the intellect of a door stopper but others are capable of so much more.  And for those skeptics out there, Exhibit B (see above) says more than enough.  Not only can I read, but I have mastered the ability to write and use a highlighter despite not having opposable thumbs, thus refining my acute motor skills.  Further more, I have clearly grasped the importance of 'dressing the part.'

Exhibit C

Last but certainly not least - I want to live.  I want to take risks, I don't want to just do yoga in a studio I want to climb a mountain and do yoga at its peak.  I don't want to just ride in the side box of a motorcycle, I want to DRIVE a motorcycle.  Exhibit C exemplifies my thirst for thrill-seeking and my utter lack of fear.  Now if only I didn't have a mom standing in my way who worries about everything.

A world full of crime!

So the other day I did something I'm pretty proud of, despite the inherent moral corruptness of my actions.  It began simply enough, my mom took me outside with Aunt H and my girlfriend/sister.  However mom had me on a leash while Mochi got to run around and do whatever she wants, its unbelievably unfair.  When my dads around he never puts me on a leash because its a sign of canine servitude which he feels I just can't be a part of.  Dogs will be dogs he says.  Sometimes the jokes on him though because the temptation of running off is just too great (mom loves when that happens).  Anyhow, I was super disgruntled about the whole leash situation and cried and pulled until she shockingly agreed to take me off the leash.  And thank god she did because if she hadn't my plan never would have come to fruition.  The second I felt the release of pressure I took off full speed down the path and leapt up into the bushes.  Poor mom, she innocently assumed I wanted to be leashless so I could play with my sister/girlfriend - she was wrong.  I tore through the bushes and jumped down into the deck of a first floor apartment.  I heard my mom yelling at me, for some reason she hates it when I investigate strangers porches and decks.  She REALLY hates it when I run into open apartments.  I just don't get it.  Its not my fault that the decks are so accessible or that the owners of these accessible decks also leave their back doors open.  I don't do anything naughty, I just like to run in and sprint around a few times and dash out.

So back to my plan - Once on the deck I sniffed around until I found my desired treasure and once I had it in my mouth I got the hell out of there.  When one has stolen property in their mouth, one best leave the scene of the crime quickly.  Back through the bushes I barreled and up to my mom and Aunt H.  I did a few sprints with Mochi all the while holding my prize.  Mom unfortunately caught me and clipped the dreaded leash to my neck which gave me great anxiety because I was absolutely dying to get back to our apartment.

The capture, how embarrassing.
 

I gave my mom a look that hopefully conveyed my absolute distain.  It must have because she gave in, dropped the leash and met me at the apartment door.  I don't understand what she was thinking in the first place, it would have been absolutely insanely risky to have kept me out in public for a second longer.  What if the chickens rightful owners had returned??

My stolen loot. Jackpot.

Bacon: An Emotional Roller Coaster

On February 14, 2011, my beloved mom doggy water boarded me.  And by that I mean she made a delicious, mouthwatering meal and did not allow me even a morsel.  It was a long process and due to the varying nature of the ingredients my interest fluctuated.  When she was mincing garlic, I was standing on the runner table looking out the window.  When she was grinding/mashing the feta cheese, spinach and parlsey mixture I was throwing my tennis ball and retrieving it. (Yes, I am capable of playing catch with myself).  However, once I heard the slap of raw chicken breasts to the cutting board I was out of my couch nestle in a split second.  I watched with huge slightly bulbous eyes as my mom neatly cut into chicken breasts and stuffed them full of the cheese mixture.  I tried a few different tactics in order to get my mouth on some chicken.  But I wasn't successful.  Just when I thought I could handle the madness in the kitchen, I watched my mom walk in slow motion towards the fridge (or at least it felt like she was moving in slow motion).  She pulled the fridge door open, reached in and emerged with the canine holy grail.  Uncured applewood smoked bacon.  At once saliva was all but dripping out of my misshapen doggy mouth and I began to cry.  She immediately told me to can it.  Again I was forced to watch desperately as she cut a thin slice of butter, dropped it into the ban and unceremoniously dropped bacon slice after bacon slice.  The snack, crackle and pop was literally unbearable.  My tongue followed my mom to whatever surface her bacon juice covered hands touched.  The oven handle, the side of the counter, the actual counter top (which required leaping in order to reach) and licking the dish towel she used to wipe her hands.  Oh bacon how you torture me. Well, as mad as I am at my mom for displaying such brutal cruelty, I promised I'd provide the actual recipe, mostly for Sierra's mom because she likes to cook.

Feta Stuffed Chicken Breasts Wrapped in Bacon
4 skinless, boneless breasts
3/4 cup feta cheese
1/4 to 1/3 cup minced parlsey
1/4 to 1/3 cup minced spinach
1/4 cup minced shallot
2 cloves garlic, minced
8 thick slices of applewood smoked bacon
salt and ground pepper to taste

take all the ingredients minus the bacon and chicken and mix/mash them all together.  Mom used an ice cream scoop but apparently thats not the only tool you can use.  After mashing/mixing them thoroughly together cut each chicken breast open on the thick side about half way into the breast and stuff it real good with the mixings.

Next take the bacon and cook it for a few minutes, it should still be soft and then wrap two bacon strips around each chicken piece.  (This is the part where I really started crying).

Cook at 375 degrees for about 30 minutes then turn the oven to broil and broil it for 5 minutes or so to crisp the delicious bacon up.

Forgive the photos lack of fanciness.  The potatoes were quite scrumptious as well.  I'd type up the recipe but quite frankly I've lost interest and I'm still mad at my mom.  If you're curious she recommends going to allrecipes.com and typing in apple mashed potatoes.  She used medium sized red potatoes and threw in a large spoonful of sour cream while mixing.  Personally I wasn't as tempted by these as the bacon wrapped chicken but I'm a dog so that shouldn't be surprising.

Introduction

Hello, my name is Diggy, though my mom often refers to me as Perfection as opposed to my given name. I am a two year old "Boggle" and I simply love life.  Most importantly I love my mom (and paper products). I began this blog because I was looking for an outlet - a place to share and sometimes vent about the wonderful and occasionally, not so wonderful, things in my life.  Often I will be writing about my mom, because as I already stated - I love her big time.  Despite the fact that recently she's taken to torturing me by saying BYE DIGGY! Immediately, and much to my embarrassment, I leap up from whatever I'm doing, whether it be sleeping or chewing on a particularly delicious sock, and run full speed to the door.  Once she tricked me and said goodbye then walked into the bathroom...I'm still feeling the sting of that one.

Valentines Day glamour shot taken by Mom.  

Anyhow, a little more about myself and my situation.  My mom and I also live with my aunt H and her shitzu/maltese, Mochi, who is my sister or girlfriend (I haven't decided). While clearly I have a highly functioning brain, Mochi does not.  She's sweet as the day is long though and quite an enjoyable playmate.  Personally, I adore taking bones from her then jumping onto the ottoman or couch where she can't reach them.  Often I'll leave the bones there and pursue another fun toy or treat she's found, then I'll put that toy or treat on the couch or ottoman.  You can see the pattern.  My mom and Aunt H lightly scold me and I give them the innocent "who me?" look, but I'll tell you right now - I know precisely what I'm doing to that little dog and I don't lose a nanosecond of sleep over it.


I think I'll leave you here - just a little tease, a sneak peak into my life.  And as for my introductory photo, my mom would love to know your thoughts on what exactly you think is going through my mind.  She thinks I'm conveying a look of humiliation as a result of her asking me and Mochi's relationship status.  Well, she's wrong.