New Years Resolutions from Mr. Wendell and Pepper

Happy New Year!  It is your pal Mr. Wendell here with my and Pepper's list of New Year's Resolutions.  Since Pepper refuses to have anything to do with self improvement, I will be designing New Year's resolutions for her. 

Before I dive into New Year's resolutions, let me tell you about our Christmas.  I must say, it was a real tail wagger.  First, my grandma and grandpa came in from South Carolina.  I really like when they come in.  It is an extra lap or two to lay on, more food scraps at the table and my grandma has a secret stash of dog bisquits that she slips me and my sister at bed time.  It does not get much better than that. 

Anyways, they were here about a week visiting.  I guess they went to some ballet "The Nutcracker" on Christmas Eve.  My dad pretended it was a good time, but I could tell he was bored.  I guess some 8 foot tall guy sat in front of him and besides the guys ears, my dad did not get to see much.  On Saturday, we went to visit King Syrus and Ms. Tracy down in Carmel.  It was a good time. 

So anyways, here are my resolutions for next year.  I am only going to do four, because any more than that and I will not be able to remember them.   Here we go.

Resolution Number One:  I will not lick myself in naughty places in front of company.  It seems natural to me to want to take care of my hygeine, but I understand that sometimes I may be grossing people out.

Resolution Number Two:  I will stop sniffing other dogs rear ends when there are humans around.  My dad always says he is glad humans don't have the same practice. 

Resolution Number Three:  I will try to stay awake longer than an hour a day. 

Resolution Number Four:  I will stop kissing my dad's face after licking myself in naughty places. 

I should be able to do all of these...at least for a few hours.

Here is a nice picture of my sister in New Year's Eve attire and the resolutions I designed for her.

Pepper's Resolutions for 2010

#1:  I will no longer do the butt walk on my dad's pillow when I get mad at him.  I will use his blanket instead.

#2  I will stop stealing all of Mr. Wendell's bones and hiding them in places that he cannot find them.

#3  I will stop using the carpet under the dining room table as a pee pad because I am too lazy sometimes to walk to where my mom usually puts them and blaming Mr. Wendell for doing it.

#4 When my dad says lets go outside, I will stop running under the bed and hiding from him. 

#5)  I promise to be nicer, less judgmental and patient with Mr. Wendell.


For the New Year's Eve celebration, my mom and dad will undoubtedly be sitting on the coach drinking wine and watching movies...just like all the other residents at the old folks rest home.  Gee whiz guys, go do something!

Happy New Year!

Paw Humbug! By Pepper

I want to go on record that I hate the holiday season.  Why?

Take a look!

Every year, my mom gets the bright idea that sending the relatvies and friends pictures of me dressed for Christmas is "cute".  I hate it.  The SPCA is going to get a call from me about this continued exploitation of my image.  Even Mr. Wendell looks like he hates it. 

The whole process is a nightmare.  First she dresses us up.  This in itself is crazy.  Think about it.  A late 30's woman dressing furry dogs up. She usually talks to us while she does it...telling Mr. Wendell "Yoooooouuuuu look soooooooo handsome young man!" or baby talking to me "Ms Pepper, you are so prettttty in this dress".  What is she?  A 8 year old girl dressing up a Barbie for a tea party?  Grow up lady!

Then she spends what seems like an hour prepping the area where she wants to take the picture.  Hey!  Get a clue, dress me afterward if you must.  You wear a fur coat as an undershirt to a heavy red cotton jacket.  It is hot!

Then, in a nightmare of flashes, she takes dozens of pictures hoping to get the exact right one.  She would not sit still for as long as she wants us to sit still, yet she expects us to sit there waiting on her.  This year, my idiot dad saved Mr. Wendell and I from hours of torture by whipping out some beef jerky and bribing us to look at him.  If he had just pulled out the jerky I would have thought him brilliant.  However, he must of asked Mr. Wendell and I 200 times in that stupid sing song "Does Pepper want a treat?  DOES Missssster Wendellllll want a BIIIIG treat?  What a jamoke. 

Oh yea, I forgot this gem...

The building owners where I live decided to get festive and put a Christmas Tree in the lobby.  However, they really went all out.  They must have ordered it straight from http://www.artificialcrappytrees.com/.  It is the artificial version of the Charlie Brown Christmas tree...3 feet tall, fake plastic foliage that is as thin as my dad's hair and a cheesey string of lights they must have stolen from a homeless guy.  It is really, really bad.

If I sound bitter and angry about the holidays, it is because I am.  Mr. Wendell is so angry he said he has been lifting his leg on the tree my mom put up in our living room. 

PAW HUMBUG!!!!!!

Another weekend, another car ride....whatever! By Ms. Pepper

I don't know why my hyper active dad thinks that I want to abandon my warm blanket, bones and toys to go exploring California...but he does.  It is annoying and I generally don't like it.  What really chaps my ass is the fake nice, motivated tone of his voice when he says "DOES PEPPER WANT TO GO FOR A RIDE IN THE CAR?"  Then the bent over, hands on his knees....COME ON!  COME ON GIRL!  COME ON PEPPER" sends me over the top.  Honestly, it makes me want put my leash on, tie it to something high off the ground and launch myself off a ledge.  (Editor's note:  As Pepper wears a harness, this would not have the impact she thinks it would!)  Mr. Wendell, ever the sycophantic "Yes Man" wags his tail, runs around the house and generally acts like a fool.  Just for a stinkin car ride usually to no where. 

Anyways, my parents decided to take us to one of the many "Redwood State/National Parks" to go see some big trees.  Big trees.  Think about it.   We were supposed to get excited about hopping in the car just to see trees that are big.  What a waste of time.  I could have been napping...instead I was held pawstage (instead of hostage!) while my soon to be granola chomping, flannel shirt and Birkenstock wearing parents went to go see big trees!  They have been on the left coast for too long.  Thats my opinion.

Anyways, these two pictures say it all.  Mr. Wendell was shaking like a crack addict who just turned in a trash bag full of plastic bottles for rebate when he saw the trees.  Needless to say he pee'd on everyone of these big trees that he could!

Then, as if the indignity of walking around the park was not enough, my mom and dad decided that they should take pictures of me and my brother next to the trees, in my mom's arms and in my dad's arms. 

I am worried that there are more days of exploring in my future.  I am going to try to figure out how to fake heartworms.  Maybe then, they will just let me sleep in my blanket like some dog version of Ferris Bueller.

Oh yeah, I stole and chewed down to nothing Mr. Wendell's favorite bone after his stupid "Paws Up" sign off last time.  May he get a lump of cat poop for Christmas.

Feeling Surly....

Pepper

I went for another ride in the car...Mr. Wendell

Cheerio folks!  Here I am behind the wheel of Benson.  Benson you ask?  That is the stupid name my dad gave to his car.  He thought the it needed a name and since Land Rovers were British, that it should be named a good sturdy English name. 

I was on the way down to see my Pomeranian cousin, Syrus (we call him King Syrus) for Thanksgiving.  Syrus was in good health and a holiday mood.  I was not in such a great mood.  My dad must have been drinking a little sweet potatoe wine when he programmed the GPS.  What should have taken about 2 hours took about four and a half.  Four and a half hours with my sister, dad, mom and my human sister Cassie and her boyfriend was not a lot of fun.  Anyways, we had a great visit with King Syrus, had a bit of turkey and got to stay in an overpriced hotel.

Speaking of my human sister.  She and her boyfriend came to visit over the holiday weekend.  It was good to see them. We did a bunch of cool things.  We took them to the Golden Gate Bridge, took a double decker bus tour, ate at a few restuarants, toured the city and  went to a musical down at the Orpheum theater called Wicked.  They liked San Francisco!

While on the Golden Gate Bridge, we saw this sign.  Now, I am not a psychiatrist, but I really wonder if this sign has ever done anything more than make people laugh and take pictures of it. 

Imagine...you are at the end of your rope.  Dispondent.  Irrational.  Ready to take yourself off the high diving board called the Golden Gate Bridge.  You come across this sign.  "The consequences of jumping off this bridge are fatal and tragic."  If I was in the mood to take the plunge, reading this sign would be encouragement.  Awesome, I came here to get the job done and this sign is almost a guarantee!

Paws up!

Wendell

Bums, Trust Fund Brats and Bart Bad Boys....Mr. Ed

So, on the eve of the Thanksgiving Holiday time for a snarky rant or three! 

Brats:

First, let me go off on the trust fund brats at the UC Berkeley.  It seems that the laws of the economy don't apply to you if you go to school there.  If you were not aware, California is a state the subsidizes college tuition for the kiddies who are residents going to state schools.  A pretty cool deal for the residents of California.  Until the economy went south.  Currently, if the state of California were a company, it would be bankrupt and out of business.  State government slack jaws have decided to tax businesses out of the state...but that is a different story. 

Anyways, the state has had to reduce some services, cut some classes (Story Link Here)  and the like to try to make up for the budget deficits.  Included in these cuts have been a reduction in custodial services at UCB.  So, this week the news has been filled with pictures of our future doctors, engineers, lawyers and leaders protesting, dumping garbage and damaging the school they go to.  Trust fund brats who hop into BMWs and Mercedes to go home have decided that the economy does not apply to them and are protesting.  Knuckle heads.


Bums:

Christine got an eye full today.  Apparently a 19 year old female meth head decided to empty both tanks (if you get my drift) on the side walk right in front of Christine about three blocks from our house.  Nice.  San Francisco is a beautiful place...but a little less so on the side walk between our Condo and Costcos!


Bad Boys on the BART:

BART is the train system between downtown and most of the burbs of San Francisco.  It is a great system, but as you are sharing it with all sorts of folks you get a slice of humanity cut in every direction.   When the news took a break from the brats at UCB, they focused ad nauseum on the poor police officer who had to drag a knucklehead off of BART over the weekend. 

Apparently, a guy (probably a UCB grad!) that had been arrested earlier in the day for public disturbance decided he needed to catch a train home.  You guessed it...he decided to cause a disturbance on the train, prompting the train conductor to contact the police.  The officer met the train at a station and attempted to talk to the bonehead like a rational adult.  Said bonehead decided that yelling at the cop was a good idea.   The officer grabbed the guy and yanked him off the train and out the door.  The crowd on the train gives the cop an ovation as he takes the jerk off the train.   Apparently, they had to put up with this numbskull for miles. 

It is hard to see exactly what happened on the video (BART Story) but as the cop puts him off the train the guy falls and breaks a window with his head.  It did not look agressive or excessive to me, but of course every citizen's group in San Fran is decrying the excessive force.  I say shut up already!  First, the idiot would not have been tossed off the train if he was not violating everyone elses rights.  Second, the officer gave him a chance to act like a responsible adult and get off the train (he chose to yell at the cop).  Finally, the officer did not beat the guy up or go over the top.  He took him off the train and unfortunately a window got broken.

I cannot imagine what it must be like to be a good honest law enforcement officer these days.  With cell phones, YouTube and a component of society that believes they have the right to act like fools it must be hard to do the job they do.  Hats off to them!

A ride in the car...Ms. Pepper and Mr. Wendell

Saturday, my mom and dad took us for a ride in the car.  Usually this means we are going to visit the vet, so we were a little nervous and annoyed.  I mean who wants to deal with a rectal thermometer, muzzles and yappy little misbreeds like Yorkie-doodles.  Yorkie-doodles?  They are dog breeding science fair experiments gone bad, in my opinion.  Give me a break.

My dad took us over the Golden Gate Bridge and into what they call the Marin Headlands.  The Marin Headlands, I guess, are part of the Golden Gate National Park.  It is a beautiful, commercially undeveloped area of land about 7 miles from downtown San Francisco featuring spectacular bay and ocean views.  My sister and I were amazed that even though we were so close to downtown there were hardly any cars.  There are some buildings as the US Government during World War II decided that they wanted to fortify the west coast after Pearl Harbor.

Here are a couple pictures of the area...

My mom and dad took us for a walk around the beach area and up through some of the hills.  It was a fun walk.  At least I thought so.  There were hardly any people, a cool little trail and plenty of things to pee on!

You can see that my sister, the always adventurous Miss Pepper, was not happy with the clean air, sun and scenery.  She is never happy.  She needs a pet therapist...or pet exorcist...or a good whack on the butt with a rolled up Wall Street Journal.

(Miss Pepper...in my defense, I was bundled in a warm blanket, enjoying the sun coming in the window when my chocalate dipped expresso bean chomping excuse for a father decides he needed "family time".  Dad, next time you want to enjoy family time leave me out of it.)

Mr Wendell.  Oh yeah, my dad is signed up for yet another Ironman.  He is scheduled for an Ironman Lousville Rematch in August of 2010.  Pepper says he is eating too much pizza and other things and will not be in shape for it.  She is so supportive.

Finally, Pep and I want to give a shout out to Aunt Nola!  We miss you a lot.  My mom and dad said that maybe we can have you come stay with us for a few days next year when they go for thier annual gambling binge in Las Vegas.  Part work, fun and part visit your old friends! 

Two paws up!  Mr. Wendell!

Bad Boys, bad boys, what cha going to do? By Pepper and Wendell

Today's morning started off like a Cops! episode. 

All my brother and I wanted to do was go outside, take a leak, sniff a few trees and maybe catch up with a few of our dog friends.  Instead, we found ourselves apparently in the middle of a drug bust.

So, we were doing our normal walk around the Civic Center, Ballet and City Hall.  (Picture below.)

There was a sketchy looking kid standing right about where the steps can be viewed on the picture.  My mom was nervous because he had his hood wrapped around his head.  She made sure he saw that she was aware of him and kept walking.  Sketchy looking people are not out of place here, but for some reason my mom thought he was sketchier than most!

I was not worried.  Mr. Wendell and I are trained lethal attack Chihuahuas and we would have gone ninja on his ass if he tried anything!  We would have bit his ankles til they bled!

Anyways...we started walking towards the condo which is about two blocks away.  All of a sudden we heard a commotion and then the kid came tearing by us.  He was looking over his shoulder like someone was chasing him.  Probably, because there was!  My mom was not sure if he was running from a gang or what...

Seconds after the kid ran by, my mom's sleeve got brushed by a big guy in chase of the kid.  He caught up with the kid quickly.  Tackling him while pulling his gun and cuffs out at about the same time!  My mom was amazed.  7:00 in the morning is too early for this kind of stuff.

The oddest part of this?  There was an old, badly dressed drag queen sitting on the steps reading right in front of the tackling and cuffing site.  The guy (?)  did not even look up...as if this kind of thing happens every day.  In contrast, my mom had a "What the ****?" expression on her face!!!

Just another day in urban paradise!  The rest of the day was boring in contrast!

My Mom and Dad are bankrupting Red Robin Restaurants...By Mr. Wendell

None of you had any idea I am an active stock trader.  Somehow, I managed to hide this talent well.  Don't let my mild mannered demeanor and apparent lack of discretionary investable funds fool you.  I am a four legged version of Warren Buffett. 
In fact, if you look closely, we even look alike!

Here is a stock tip for all of my dedicated readers. 

Short Red Robin Restuarant Stock!
Check out the chart  Red Robin's Stock Chart NASDAQ:RRGB  the picture does not lie!

Now, I will let you all know why the stock is down.  Analysts blame the economy...giving you the notion that people are not eating burgers and fries in the down turn.  Bully-sticks I say!

The real is reason can be traced back to my mom and dad. 

Until August 1st of this year, my mom and dad ate at Red Robin's at least once a week.  Typically, they would each eat a burger and have two or three margharitas served up by the Amazing Linda, the best bartender in the universe.  Do the math folks.  My mom and dad were a major sales revenue channel for Red Robin that has disappeared.

Now that they have moved, the average amount of beef and tequila moved by Red Robin has been reduced greatly...resulting in the restuarant missing sales figures.  Hence, the stock price getting slammed. 

There are no Red Robins near our new house.  If Red Robin wants to move the stock, then they need to move more Burning Love Burgers or Jamaican Jerk Chicken Sandwiches.  How they would do that is by putting a Red Robin on the corner of Van Ness and Market Street!

For those of you who want to make some money, until RR wakes up and smells the french fries, short the stock!

Mr. Wendell

City People, by Wendell and Pepper

My dad wanted us to post this stupid picture.  Apparently, some marketing lame brain thought a name for a linen cabinet should be "Edland".  If he were here, I would raise my right leg up and let him know what I think of this name on his pant leg.

Pepper and I have been debating whether we want to talk about some of the people we meet on our daily walks around our new home.  I did not want to as some people may think this sounds mean.  However, Pepper said we should tell people about our neighborhood and that we can do it and still be nice.  So, here goes....

The majority of the people here seem to be pretty normal.  Normal, but in a hurry always.  We have never seen so many people in such a hurry to get places.  If they were dogs attached to a snow sled, they could win the Iditarod. 

However, this would be a boring posting if Pep and I talked about normal every day Joe's and Jills.  Pepper and I are going to talk about four types of special people we seem to meet on a daily basis.

"Screamers".

Screamers come in all shapes and sizes.  Screamers can be male, female, white, black, Asian, short and tall.  Common to all Screamers is that they yell , red faced, at no one in particular.  Apparently, "no one" is not listening because they usually repeat the same sentence over and over.  Yesterday, one of these folks must have decided he liked something. 

"I like it!!!!"  he shouted. 

Ten seconds later..."I like it!!!!" 

A breif pause..."I like it!!!"  "I like it!!!!" 

Apparently, he liked it.  Pepper and I could not see what he was liking but he sure did!  We hope we get us a bone that tastes that good.

About a week ago, Pepper and I saw a man in the courtyard at the Opera house looking at the garbage bins.  He had a raggedy old red beach towel tucked into the back of his collar.  Every 15 seconds or would look around and shout at the top of his lungs "I AM BAT-MAN!"  "I AM BAT-MAN".  Bruce Wayne must have hit a rough spot in this bad economy because he was dumpster diving.  "I...AM...BAT-MAN!!!"

Secondly, we notice people like to nap on the street here a lot.  (Pepper, take over typing please!)

Mr. Wendell and I are no strangers to spinning three times and plopping down whereever we are for a little beauty snooze.  We view this as healthy and encourage everyone to sleep more during the day.  So, when we see people laying on the sidewalk or in doorways or on benches in the park, we just wag our tales and walk on by. 


Apparently, shopping tires people out.  Many of the nappers look like they were coming home from SafeWay.  I am not sure SafeWay appreciates them taking the shopping carts home with them, but I guess the SafeWay SuprSavr card has its privledges.  Mr. Wendell thinks they smell funny, but I think he smells funny so he shouldn't talk.

Thirdly, the people who go through garbage cans are so polite! 

Two or three times a week, Mr. Wendell and I walk by people who are going through the neighborhood garbage cans.  Two paws up and a tail wag for them!!!!  They appear to be environmentalists as they always pull recycleable cans and bottles out that careless humans have thrown away.  Also, they seem to be very polite.  They always greet people..."Good morning Ma'am!"  or "Have a nice day".  My mom tries not to be rude but she usually does not say much.  Sometimes she says Good Morning! back.  Mr. Wendell growls at them.  He is a cranky young man.  There is no use being so mean Wendell! 

Finally, old men dance in the street here! 

Today as an example, my mom, Wendell and I watched a man dancing for nearly ten minutes.  The man was dancing in front of car that was being worked on by a locksmith.  A nicely dressed man was talking with the locksmith as it looked like he may have left his keys in the car.  Apparently, Dancing Bob (my nickname for him) was doing something like an old fashioned Native American Indian rain dance in hopes that the locksmith who was working hard on the lock would be successful.  He was dancing, pointing his fingers to the sky, disco dancing, River Dancing and folding his hands in prayer as he danced.  His dancing must have been the edge...the door popped open after about ten minutes of his dancing.  Dancing must make people thirsty as this man had some white Gatorade in a brown paper bag that he was swigging from.  He was so happy when the door popped open. 

These people don't seem to pay a lot of attention to us.  Probably because Mr. Wendell growls at them.

Halloween, Critical Mass Commentary and Wendell Update....E

San Franciscoans take Halloween seriously!  Last night on my way home from work, I must have seen hundreds of people dressed up in costumes.  (This contrasts with just "mere" dozens I might see on a daily basis.)  There were Elvis's on bikes, men dressed as women, zombies in business suits...you name it, I saw it. 

What was most interesting to me was that the normal Joe or Jill on the sidewalk seemed to pay no attention.  I saw no laughs, no chuckles, no stares, no double take looks etc.  People seemed to take the costumes in stride like it was no big thing.  Folks in our office even got into the act.  Here is the guy we entrust with installing our most complex customers. 

It was pretty hard to not laugh when I sat down with him for a meeting.  He left the mask on...sort of hard to focus on the task at hand with a guy in a mask, leotards and WWF belt on.  Christine and I are looking forward to tonight...true Halloween.  This place will be more out of control than usual.

I am sure if this web site gets Google Spidered that I might get angry comments  for what I am about to write, but I don't care.  It needs to be said.

Last night, Christine and I had our first experience with a bicycle awareness event/group called Critical Mass.  Here is the website Critical Mass.  I am sure the idea started off with some sanity...but as usual in this country good things get coopted by knuckleheads.  In a nutshell, Critical Mass was started as an event to call awareness to cycling sharing the road with cars and safety.  The last Friday of every month, all over the world, thousands of cyclist ride en masse on preselected routes in major cities to draw attention.  Sounds good right?

As a safe, law abiding and avid cyclist, what I saw last night really pissed me off.  Thousands of riders purposely and unlawfully blocking intersections.  Cyclists were riding out in front of cars (who had the green light right of way) and standing in front of them.  There were jamochs riding on the wrong side of the road and riders smacking cars.  It was a critical mass of stupidity.

Critical Mass may have started with good intent.  However the shirtless idiots with mohawks and cans of beer in hand (yup...true) riding up the wrong side of the road are not doing anything more than making people more angry about cyclists.  I suspect the car driver who had a Critical Masser pounding on his hood last night will only be more agressive with guys like me and the hundrerds of thousands of other law abiding two wheelers the next time they see us on the road.  In fact, I doubt the majority of folks we saw last night are even true cyclists.  I suspect they are only participating because it is a way to hide in a crowd and cause a problem. 

Shame on Critical Mass organizers who have moved the right and noble intent from calling attention to cycling to a demonstration vehicle for dumb ass behaviour. 

Mr. Wendell Update!

Our handsome guy is back to 100%.  He is eating, running around the house and giving the ladies his "pick me up look" like normal.  One great byproduct of his surgery...his breath has totally improved.  Before, he really had a problem with nasty smelling breath...the operation has totally eliminated that. 

The next update, Ms. Pepper and Mr. Wendell on some city observations!

I was going to talk about Pepper....By Mr. Wendell

Whoa!

I was going to trash Ms. Princess Butt on today's blog.  Because she threw a major hissy fit last week at the vets. My mom took us in to get our nails done. 

Nails!  You would have thought Pepper was being water- boarded by terrorists the way she was yelping.  Clip.  Scream!  Clip.  Scream!

After her nails got clipped, the thermometer came out!   Pepper hates anyone looking at her butt, touching her butt, sniffing her butt or even thinking about her butt.  The thermometer is a tool for evil!  It took three people to hold her down, a muzzle and one whole person to try to pry her tail up so they could get her temperature.  The carrying on!  Drama.  Drama.  Drama.

I was going to tell you all this...but, I have my own story to tell.

This morning my mom bundled me up and took ME back to the vets office.  I was a little worried, but hey! my vet is a quite blonde chick...so I am thinking maybe she just needed a little more of my handsomeness and undeniable charm.  I am such a love machine.

Well, today was not a fun day for me.  My mom handed me over and then I got put into a cage.  There was a CAT in the cell next to me.  "What are you in for?" I asked.  The cat hissed "declawing and at least I will get out of here alive.  You may end up in a Cashew Chicken Dish if the vet makes a mistake"  Well, that pissed me off and I barked for the warden.

Well, the barking got some attention.  They took me in a room and popped out a big needle.  I was feeling guilty as I had pee'd on the throw rug the other night.   But I did not think that I would get capital punishment for a little urine.  In went the needle...

The next thing I remember, I woke up and my mouth hurt.  Apparently, when I went to the vet last week, she thought I needed four teeth removed because they were growing a little crookedly.  I laid there as high as a kite on pain killers for a while until my mom came to pick me up.  

I was so glad to see her.  She took me home and I have been laying around ever since.  Pepper even seemed to miss me.  

"What happened to you?" she asked.    "Thermometer, I grunted...a new kind of thermometer..it is your turn next week...."

Saturday in San Francisco

I thought I would share our Saturday with you!  Today was the first fairly normal Saturday since we got here three weeks ago.  We have been so busy moving in and getting weekend errands done.  Now, we are hitting our Saturday stride!

We had a good start by heading down to the Four Seasons LA Fitness Center for a workout.  This gym came highly recommended to me as the best place in the city for triathletes to swim.  The pool is a saline pool...it has no chlorine!!!!  After an hour, we headed back to get our day on the way.

After walking the pups, we headed out to a suburb called Daly City.  This is where most of the downtowners go when they need to hit places like Costco, Home Depot, Target etc.  The shopping in downtown is great...if you are looking for "fashion", high end furniture or $2 whiskey liquor stores..  However, if you need paper towels, 24 packs of hot dog buns or paint brushes, most people rent a Zip Car or take their own cars out to Daly City.  It has been a mad house both times we went!

We then spent the afternoon putting the living room together.  Our furniture had trickled in over the week and we had to get things pulled together.  Even though the room is 16 by 25 or so, we moved the stuff  like 12,278 times before we got it right (my idea...right!).  I will post a photo when we get the pictures hung and the like.

The dogs are so happy to have furniture to hang out on.  It was a pain for them over the last few weeks as we really had no furniture for them to lay around on.  They had to resort (oh, the horror!!!) to laying on dog pillows on the floor. 

Christine and I have decided to hit a new restuarant every Saturday.  There are so many great places to eat within five minutes of our humble palace.

Today we went to a place called Zuni's Cafe...here is the link to the site... http://www.zunicafe.com/  We both had perhaps the best hambuger we have had in a while (no Red Robins close) and washed them down with fresh lime squeezed margharitas.  I won't lie...it was realllllly tasty!  (Lynda, yes, you are still the best bartender ever!...we texted you as we were sipping one...pictured below!)

So, that was our day.  

The next post will come Tuesday or so.  Mr. Wendell wants to tell you about he and Pepper's recent visit to the vet.  BTW, Google has changed up some of the templates on the Blogspot product.  The spacing and other formatting is giving me a bit of a challenge...sorry for the odd look.

Ed

I am NOT food...by Pepper

What is it with you street people here?

I am not talking about your appearance, where and how you live, your constant talking to yourself and all of the odd little messes you make around the city. I am not judging that here.

What I really want to know is: "What is your fixation on telling me and my brother that we will end up as food if we stray into certain areas of town?".

Two weeks ago my brother told you about the guy who warned us that Wendell and I would end up in sweet and sour soup if we got lost in China town.

Yesterday, one of your down and out club members saw us walking. He turned, looked directly at me, squinted and issued another "you will end up as food" warning. Clear as a bell, no stutter, no slur...this guy believed what he said.

"Be careful. If you go to China town, they will chop you up in little pieces and fry you up in an egg roll".

My dad pulled the leashes tight because I started barking. I was seriously thinking about going "pit-chihuahua" on his ass. Mr. Wendell laughed and said he loves egg rolls. Tail wagging idiot...I am hoping that he did not realize this guy was talking about us. The alternative explanation is too depressing.

Two encounters with homeless people and two warnings that I will end up as Kung-pow.

Now, I am really worried every time my mom says it is time to "Wok the dog"...

4 and 1/2 feet of Dynamite by Ed

Two weeks into city living and all of us are adapting quite well. Mr. Wendell and Pepper are walking with a lot of confidence. They have gradually gotten more used to the sounds, motion and people that they meet on their daily excursions.

I have been riding the "Muni" every day back and forth to work. The 2.0 miles or so to work is a little long to walk on most days. So, I turned into a legitimate city dweller and bought a pass to the Muni. The Muni is the subway here in San Francisco. It is pretty clean, easy to ride and fast...it only takes about 12 minutes door to door for me to get back and forth to work. Walking it took me 35 minutes.

Most days, the Muni is not very crowded. However, Friday night is a mad house. You have heard of the "Thrilla in Manilla" right? Well...Friday night is what I now call "Fight Night on the Muni..."

(Read in your best boxxing announcer voice....)

In this corner, hailing from Berlin Center, Ohio wearing the Blue Suit and White Shirt, weighing in at 172 lbs...with a Muni Fight record of 0-2...

"Misssssster Pooooooooliiiiiiiite!"

And in this corner, standing four foot six and weighing in at 87 lbs, hailing from San Francisco or China, or Japan or Korea....with a Friday Night Muni Fight Record of 100-0 with 89 knockouts and 11 fatal wounds inflicted....the Little Unnamed Asian Lady...

Four and a Half feet of Dyyyyyyyy-noooooooooo-mite!!!!


Seriously...picture 100 tired middle aged guys in business suits and 10 little old Asian ladies clutching handbags trying to get into the Muni. You would think that the size and strength would win out. Frankly, it is not even a fair fight...

The train pulls up....the door slowly opens and then the blood flies. Pushing, shoving, kicking, men crying for their mommas, biting, screaming, elbows flying and the distinct sound of bodies slamming up against the train walls...

It looks like a Texas Cage Fight...with more blood!!!! When the bell rings for the door to close and the train to move the only ones standing are the little old Asian ladies.

I would love to say I am exaggerating.

Maybe I am a little bit...

Most of the kind looking little old Asian ladies are less than 4' 6""!!!!

My new life...and my sister the scaredy cat...by Mr. Wendell

My sister and I have been city dogs for a week now. I am loving city life.