How can I be in heat if it's snowing outside?

I'm writing long distance (via my PR mom). I'm taking a vacation!

The other day my mom said, "Kelda, you've grown up! You're not ready to go to puppy college yet, but you'd be ready to have puppies if CCI wanted you to." Well, I hadn't thought about a career change, but... whatever! I'm always up for adventure.

The next thing she said was: "For this, you get a treat - three weeks at the kennel!" Oh, yeah? I'd heard other opinions about the kennel.

So she drove two nylabones, a toy, a filled bone, and me out to the kennel. There are lots of dogs out here! I live next to a very friendly Golden Retriever. I have my own room. My suite falls short in the fabulous decor department, but it does have an attached private patio. The people are very nice. They're going to play with me and walk me and do a little cleaning up after me. This may not be too bad.

So I'll see you all in three weeks!

Here's how to celebrate the Super Bowl

So I started hearing the words Super Bowl, and I started wondering what was in it (the dish, I mean) for me.

No such luck. But it was all right, anyhow.

The Super Bowl, it turns out, is a people game in which grown men play with a ball, jump on top of one another, knock each other down, and run from one end of a big yard to the other.

Hey, we pups do that all the time!













If we knock one another around too much or start growling, our people take us home. But these humans went at it for hours, and nobody cared what kind of growls they made.

Apparently it's important, though - worth a party, at least. So I figured I'd better get ready for it. I prepared myself by watching...



...the Puppy Bowl.






Now, that was interesting.





I did get a little distracted. Maybe football isn't my thing.






Maybe track suits me better. (I like to do sprints.)


So then we went to the party, and, although I was hoping...

...to get a ball game going, it didn't work.



Gus liked the ball (just a big ol' ball - I didn't have one of those pointy ones), but he didn't care to run with it....









... and Rascal II liked telling me off. Just because it's his house.






Finally, we decided that what we really wanted to do was to be with the people.

I entertained them all when they got a little tired of the television. I ran up and down the steps (note, please: up and down the steps!) and wagged my tail at everybody. They couldn't have had a great party without me.


Next Super Bowl I'll be at puppy college in California, I hope (if I haven't - horrors! - flunked out). I'd like to plan a party for all of us advanced-training four-footies! Lots of balls, lots of running, lots of dog treats - it could be terrific.


Oh, before I go, take a look at this. Remember my friend who came over for the day because she didn't have a tag on her collar?

She came over again! See the tag? (Look closely at the edge of her collar on your left.) Isn't it beautiful? So she and I played for a while, and then my mom walked her around the block and took her home. Cool!