It took me a few market days, and many thrown out fruits and vegetables, to learn the difference between “fresh” and hot-house grown, picked green for shipping and ripened off the vine stuff, or baked full of preservatives to last on the shelf for weeks baked goods that we’re used to getting at the grocery store! It all looks so delicious and tempting that I’d buy more than a family of seven could eat in 4-5 days, when it was just for me and Matt and would only keep for the next 2 or 3 days! I think it must be a common occurrence since both my mother and Matt’s tended to do the same thing on their market visits!

I’ve toned down and reined in the purchases to manageable quantities, usually. And have experimented with new and different items that we’ve found like weiss spargel (white asparagus), fennel, pilzen and pfefferlings (different mushrooms), currants, goose berries, unusual melons and kurbis (pumpkin, but different types of gourds or squash from what I’m familiar with) and a variety of meats and cheeses. I still get tempted to buy more than we need, or buy things based on appearance (see the radish and carrot photos – how can you resist that?) rather than use or preference, but not as often. We do have some mishaps, as well, like when I get a bit carried away at the cheese counter and try some very . . . “aromatic” cheese and we end up having to clean out the fridge later on! I occasionally have trouble with estimating quantities in metric, too. One kilo of spinach goes a long, long, long, long way, even when making veggie lasagna and spinach salads!--

OK, enough already with Mom’s thoughts about Germany and all this pack-up, move around, different houses, new smells, new people, everything different move of ours! We’ll tell you what it’s REALLY been like, me and Spooky, we can tell you all about it, all the parts that Mom skipped and didn’t tell you, all about the new smells, and the noise, and the new smells, and, well, I already mentioned the new smells, did Mom tell you about those? I’ll bet she didn’t tell you about all the stress, did she? All the stress during those last few months in Charleston, and all the stress living in a hotel, and all the airplane stress (oh, you think I don’t know what an airplane is just because I’m a dog? I’ve flown more than most people, I have, really . . . they drugged me up and put me on a plane to go from home – you know, the first one, the real one, where it was warm all the time, and sunny, remember that? That was St. Thomas, and then they put me on that little plane and took me to the place where they spoke funny, but they had fun stuff to do, and I met my best friend, Huracan, and I got hit by a car there, too, I didn’t like that, but do you remember that? I remember that, there were good smells there mostly, sometimes not so good, but usually good, you know the kind that make you want to roll in them? It was nice there, too, mostly sunny and warm, but it got cold at night, especially in the winter, and they always had those loud thunder and lightning storms, I didn’t like that. And then we left there and Jaguar and I got to fly to the other new place, Charleston. It was kinda warm there, sometimes, but not always, and they had thunderstorms, too, and the smells weren’t so good; well, I mean, they were, but mom always kept me on the leash when we went bye-bye leashy, so I couldn’t always get to the good smells, and I hardly ever got to roll in them ‘cause she was always there, but I did, sometimes I’d get to roll in something, like that time on the beach, when I found that dead fish. That smelled really, really good. And then we flew here to the cold place. So, see, I’ve flown a lot. So has Jaguar, but she’s not here any more, she got old and went away and so she couldn’t come to Germany with us, but Jaguar flew a lot, too, even more than me. Not like Spooky, this was his first time, he’d never . . . .)

Enough already, Spike. Can you get to the point of our blog entry? Do you remember what it was? Germany, our move here? Ringing any bells.

Bells? Where, I love bells? Should I bark?

Get to your story, already.

Oh, sorry Spook, OK. So, when Mom writes her blog stories about our trip, I think she forgets a lot of the important things. Like all the stress that went along with moving. Did she tell you about the 101 trips to the vet to get shots and paperwork and more shots and more paperwork? Probably not, huh? She kept taking us to the vet and they’d poke us and prod us and stick needles in us, but at least they never tried to cut my nails, that would’ve really . . .

Ahhemmm . . .

Oh, right, so, we know she left out all the details about how stressed out we were when we saw all of the things that we were used to seeing and smelling every day get picked up, packed up, carried away, and taken out of our house!! Do you have any idea how strange it is to have all of your familiar smells disappear? Our house didn’t smell like home any more! We were not happy about all the change!

Then it got even worse! Off we went, bye-bye car-car, which is normally a good thing, I really like the car, except when we go to the vet in it, but I really like it when we go to the beach, but we don’t have a . . . (ouch, you didn’t need to scratch, Spooky, I’m getting back to the story). Anyway, this time we went bye-bye car-car to a hotel! The four of us were all in one hotel room, but it wasn’t so bad because it was big, it had 2 rooms – one upstairs and one downstairs, well, 4 really, if you count the bathrooms, or 5 if you count the kitchen separate, even though it opened up into . . .Ouch! Cut that out, Spooky!

Stick to the point and I won’t have to stick the point to you, get my point?

So, we had to live in a hotel and boy was that stressful for us! No more going outside whenever we wanted, no more smells of dinner cooking and treats right from the table, no more HOME! It did have its up-sides. Mom walked me every day, three or four of five times a day and I really liked that because we’d get to go bye-bye-car-car to get to the places where we’d go for the bye-bye-leashy. I think she might have been a bit bored there herself because she walked me a lot! And she was there with us all the time; she didn’t have to go away every day like when we were in our house. When she did go away, it was usually to take Dad to work, so I got to go bye-bye car-car with them then, too!

So did, I (this is me, Spooky, writing now). Sometimes Mom would take me with her for rides in the big van, too. I really detest being locked up in the dog carrier. Imagine, me, in a dog carrier? Which was infinitely better than being locked up in my little, but so much more elegant, cat carrier. Still, I really didn’t like the indignity of it all when the cleaning ladies came, and I would tell Mom and the cleaning ladies and anyone else within earshot about it. So Mom would let me ride along with her and the dog. I liked that. And the hotel room really wasn’t bad. I had my own bed usually – when they pulled it down from the wall. It was one of those Murphy beds that flips up to make more room for the dog to romp around like the lunatic he is.

I had a new ball, it’s a great ball . . . look here it is, I still have it, more than a year later! Isn’t that a great ball? Ouch!

So, as Spike mentioned, the hotel had an upstairs and a downstairs. At night when everyone was asleep I’d hone my predatory skills on the large plastic monster-like toy at the bottom of the stairs. Mom said it was an artifical plant. Really! Who’s ever heard of anything so ridiculous! But I digress . . . My nightly routine was to do some cardio by running up and down the stairs – I could really get up some speed – and then work on leaping distance and accuracy by diving onto the beast (not Spike, the plant). I got quite good, really. I could roll that thing all the way across the room! You should’ve heard the noise! Yes, as stressful as it was, I did have some fun in that hotel room . . .

Just as we were both getting really comfortable in that room, and with our new routine, they stuffed us in those boxes and we had one of the worst experiences of our lives! Or, at least of mine. Obviously the dog is oblivious to truly significant events in life and wasn’t all that phased by it all.

Don’t mind Spooky, like I told you, he’s never traveled before. It really wasn’t THAT bad, not that I like to get locked in a box, loaded into a dark and noisy room full of bags with lots of strange smells, and not know what’s going on for the longest time, until next thing I know I’m somewhere else! But really, it wasn’t that bad, I just curled up and went to sleep for most of it, but boy-oh-boy was I glad to see that strip of grass outside when Mom let me out of the box and put me on the leashy! I didn’t even care that all the smells were different and there were cars and people and noise all over, well, I did care about the smells, I really wanted to smell them all, but I had more important things to do right then, like add my own scent to the mix! Whew. I felt better after that.

Yes, well aren’t you special? I don’t really remember much of all that. I know I was in the box for a long, long time. But I got to sit between Mom and Dad in the cabin. I think I screamed a lot at first, not because I was afraid, but to let them know that I was NOT enjoying the whole ordeal. Then I fell asleep. I really couldn’t help it. It was strange. One minute I was howling like the king of the jungle that I’m descended from, and the next, everything got fuzzy. When I woke up, Mom was carrying me and there were lots of people waiting in a long line. I kept telling her to just walk passed them all so we could get to a proper litter box – NE-OW! But she jus kept standing in that line. Finally, I couldn’t stand it any more and I just had to answer nature’s call. Right there in my carrier. How demeaning. Me, Spooky, my awe-inspiring self all gray and groomed and fierce looking, was forced to mess in my carrying case. All I have to say about that is at least Mom and Dad had to put up with the smell, too.

Then we went to ANOTHER new place, another hotel, with lots of other smells, and lots and lots of dog smells! There were other dogs everywhere! The hotel wasn’t bad at all. It was big, and had lots of places for Mom to take me on long bye-bye leashies! And there were lots and lots of other dogs on leashies all the time, everywhere! They even let Spooky outside on a leashy every now and then. Don’t let his arrogant act fool you, if cat’s are so smart, how come he doesn’t know how to go bye-bye leashy? He walks BACKWARDS!

Excuse me, dog, just because you have to be restrained in order to walk doesn’t mean that I have to suffer the same indignity. Besides, my plan worked, Mom let me out without the leash a few times.

Right. And you got so scared that you ran right back into the room! Ha!

Don’t listen to him. I just didn’t want to get Mom worried. Anyway, this room wasn’t as much fun as the first one, but it wasn’t bad. We survived. And we were even getting somewhat used to all the moving and the unusual smells. So, of course, they moved us again!!

This was a good move. Although everything was different and all the background smells were new, we had lots of our stuff back – with our smells and our hair all over it! We were HOME, well kind of home, but different, but with the same stuff, ar at least some if it, ya’ know? Now we have so much more room to explore and smell, and bark! There are always people and dogs walking by and so I have lots to bark at, and loads of smells!

We also have a cellar and an attic to prowl, and lots of stairs, and windows without screens to wander in and out of. Or rather, for me to wander in and out of and practice my leaping and balancing. Spike can’t quite manage that!

Neither can you, Baldy! Tell them about falling out of the tree!

Yes, well, urrummpphhh . . . you weren’t laughing then, were you?

No, you’re right, I wasn’t, you scared the heck out of me! Out of Mom and Dad, too! I heard it all and tried to wake them up, but Mom looked outside and didn’t see anything, so told me to be quiet and go to bed; you must’ve already limped off to hide. I really did try to get help for you, I did, and Mom still regrets not listening to me then. She didn’t find you under the shed until the next day at noon! And you were a mess! I remember that – the bone sticking right out of your leg, and you all disheveled looking.

You’d look disheveled, too, after spending the night under a shed, hearing Mom call and knowing she was looking for me, but unable to get to her. I was quite distraught, really. I feared she wouldn’t find me. And I do appreciate your help. I heard you and knew you were worried. But, luckily, Mom did find me and then the fun really started! The vet, and the surgery, and that awful metal thing holding my leg together, and more vets. I had to go there every week for 8 weeks! It hurt to walk, it hurt to move, I could hardly get in and out of the litter box, and worst of all, Mom and Dad wouldn’t let me outside that whole time! Ah, the suffering . . .

Suffering? Ha! You got spoiled rotten!!

Jealous? Ha! Yes I did get spoiled! Mom carried me up and down the stairs, they brought my food to me, they carried my litter box up and down the stairs, kept me in bed with them, and gave me lots and lots of loving! So, as bad as the ordeal was, I got over it! And now my leg is as good as new! I don’t climb trees anymore, and I don’t wander out of the yard, either. But I do go outside again, in the garden while Mom and Dad are out there. Of course, not in the winter; it’s too cold! I’m really not a big fan of cold and snow. I prefer curling up in front of the radiators or in the bed covers to going out in that! But now that it’s springtime, Mom keeps a close eye on me when I go out, and I keep a close eye on her, too. Or whoever’s in the yard with me. Don’t want to get too far away from help, just in case, you know! But I’m not the only one who’s had adventures with the vet. You’ve had your share, too, Spike. Go on, tell them!

Oh, yes, adventures! I’ve had lots of adventures, haven’t I? Which one should I write about? The sheep? Or the trains? Or the car rides on that crazy road? Or the other dogs? I guess I can say a bit about all of them! First, the dogs here are weird. Not like other dogs I’ve known. These dogs are . . . well, they’re well-behaved! We go for a bye-bye leashy on these wonderful trails and paths all over and always see lots and lots of other dogs, but most don’t even look at me and Mom! They keep their eyes forward and only look at their person! No butt-sniffs, no licks, not even growls! OK, there are some normal ones – like the three little yappy Pomeranians down the street, and that pretty brown and black girl that walks by with her man every day, three times a day, same time every day, like clockwork! And her man lets us sniff and bark through the fence and he talks to me. He’s nice. Others, though . . . I mean, I bark and bark and bark through the fence and nothing, no response, no bark back, nothing! Isn’t that weird? A lot of the people are nice and I’ve warmed them up some since we arrived. I brought them out of their shells. They’d walk by every day and ignore me, or give me dirty looks, but eventually they end up stopping and talking to me. That big bump thing on my leg gets a lot of comments, and sympathy. God I just love attention! They all ask Mom about it. Well, more on that later. Anyway, I’m doing my best to warm these German dogs up, get them talking and sniffing like they’re supposed to! Maybe they just don’t know that this is how REAL dogs act. Who knows, maybe once they’ve seen what a cool dog I am and how much personality I have, they’ll start behaving more like me!

Of course, obedient might have been good when I had that run-in with the sheep! On one of our leashies through the fields and orchards I couldn’t stand it any more. There were those sheep again! So I took off and dove under the fence after them! I don’t know what made me do it. I’d seen them before and it just never entered my mind to go and bark at them but boy am I sorry I did this time! That fence hurt! It gave me such a shock!! It scared me and hurt me, and I didn’t know what to do except get as far away as I could, so I ran and ran and ran. I ran past Mom in the direction we came from and wouldn’t stop and go back to her no matter how much she called. There was nothing gonna get me to walk past those sheep again! Mom finally got to me and calmed me down a bit. I felt a lot better once I had the leashy on again – who’d ever imagine me saying that? She walked me home back the way we came and I wouldn’t walk back that way again for a long, long time! And even now, I’d rather not. It works out pretty good for me, though, ‘cause Mom’s kind of a sucker about stuff like that (but don’t tell her I said that, OK?). If I droop my ears and tail when we start to walk that way, she puts me in the car and drives me to another place and we walk there. No sheep, no fences, just me, Mom and all those smells! No trains there in the forest, either. That other path ran right next to the train tracks. I really don’t like those trains, they scare me, so I really don’t mind not walking there.

And speaking of fast, sometimes Mom and Dad take me to the place where Dad works. They have a great doggie playground there; lots of smells! And sometimes there are other dogs I can play with, too, but to get there we have to drive on this road with lots and lots of big trucks and lots of other cars and they’re all going really, really fast. I used to try to hide when we’d drive there, or climb into Mom’s lap, but I think I’m getting used to it now. It’s not so bad. I like riding in Dad’s car. And the back of Mom’s car is pretty nice, too, as long as I don’t look behind me – the road is RIGHT THERE, and so are the other cars and trucks! When I’m riding back there and forget, and turn around to take a peek, I jump right back into the front seat, even though it’s not as comfortable!

Tell them about our favorite ride in the car! Going to the babysitters . . .you know the ones . . .the Mills’!

Oh, right, sometimes, Mom takes us to the babysitters. It’s like vacation for us! The Mills’ are really, really nice. They have two little Mills’ who play with us and pet us and are really not too bad for little people, they aren’t mean or loud and scary like some little people and they play with us nice and like for us to climb up onto their beds. And the big Mills’, Scott and Becky, are really nice to us. They let us sleep in their bed, and go on their furniture, and they take me on nice, long bye-bye leashies, and give us lots of lovin’! (And that pervert Spooky gives them lots of lovin’ back. Especially Scott! Spooky lo-oves Sco-ott, Spooky lo-oves Sco-ott!)

Look who’s talking, freak-dog! You were the one making out with Spencer’s leg!

Oh, well, he’s a nice boy. I like him. He’s pets me so nice.

Freak.

Pervert.

Get back to the story.

Oh, OK, well, anyway, we like going to the Mills’ house. Besides all the people, they have three other cats, too! I love cats, they’re so fun to play with. Well, they would be, if they’d play with me. But the two kittens mostly run and hide when I come in. And the big cat, Sushi, seems to like Spooky better than me. I don’t get it. I’m a nice dog. I’m friendly. But he just follows Spooky around, and the two of them make funny noises at each other. I think he’d have more fun playing with me, but what can I do? There’s no accounting for taste! Anyway, I think that’s about it for . . .

Not so fast big boy. What about your leg and the vet and the surgery and all that. If I had to share the details of my veterinary exploits, you have to do the same.

Sure, OK, I will, but at least I only really have one . . .worm tail!

Don’t go there, Dog. It’s not my fault I had that big gross nematode come climbing outta my butt! That just happens! It could happen to you!

But it didn’t, did it? It happened to you! Ha! And you weren’t so blasé about the whole thing at the time! You were running through the house screaming bloody murder . . . that long white worm dangling outta you, swinging back and forth! I almost busted my gut I was laughing so hard!

Oh shut up. It’s gone, I’m good. De-wormed. I still think Mom should’ve saved the specimen for the biology class she’s teaching this summer!

You’re gross.

Whatever, go on, tell everyone about your leg or I will.

OK, well, before we left Charleston I started getting some lumps on my chest and my back leg. The vet there, who wasn’t nearly as nice as the one here, said they were fatty tumors and it was no big deal, dogs my age get them. So, we left ‘em alone, but Mom’s been taking me in now and then here to have them looked at. At Christmas, it grew a lot, like from the size of a marble to the size of a tennis ball in just a few weeks! The vet drew a sample from it and it wasn’t a fatty tumor after all, but a real, fed by blood vessels, icky tumor. Because of where it was, just below the elbow, where there’s not a lot of skin, the vet said they couldn’t remove it all because there’d be no skin left to sew it back together, they’d have to do a skin graft, but she advised against surgery since it really wasn’t bothering me at all. I never licked it, and it didn’t slow me down at all, so she said to leave it alone. If it grew a lot or changed, or if it grew and the skin burst, then they’d remove as much of it as they could and we’d see what happened from there.

I was pretty happy with letting things be. So, we let it go, or at least we did until last week. It had only grown a little bit, and it really wasn’t bothering me too much, but Mom caught me licking around it – it was a bit itchy. (Try stretching your skin over a softball and see how it feels!) It didn’t hurt, but, ya’ know, I’m a dog. I had to lick! So, Mom took me to the vet.

That was NO FUN – let me tell you! Mom came in with me. I was really scared. I don’t mind going to the vet, I like the waiting room and the other dogs, and the vets and the assistants are all nice ladies, but then they put me on that table and poke me and prod me and try to cut my nails, and it’s just ugly! This time, they got me on the table and gave me a shot. Last thing I remember is Mom petting me and whispering “it’s ok Sweetie,” and bam, nothing!

When I woke up I had a lampshade on my head and was feeling a little whoozie. They led me out into the waiting room and there was MOM!! I was sooo happy to see her! I had a bandage on my back leg, but really couldn’t feel it, or anything else for that matter – everything was a bit fuzzy. I know Mom had been crying, so I was kind of worried about her. The vet told her that we’d just have to wait and see now because the tumor was a really bad one and she knew without the biopsy that it was "schlecht", whatever that means. She removed as much as she could, but not all – had to leave enough skin to sew it back together. She couldn’t say what would happen now, it could heal, but grow back fast, or maybe spread faster, or it might just heal and be fine for a while. There’s just no way to tell.

I’m not sure what all that means, but that’s what she told Mom. And Mom cried a lot and hugged me a lot. It’s all kinda blurry. I know when I got home, Mom carried me to the couch and took off the silly lampshade. I was glad of that. I felt kinda silly with that on. I couldn’t eat or drink or I woulda thrown up. I felt horrible! Mom slept on the couch with me that night. That was nice.

I still felt pretty weird the next morning, but was at least alert enough to go outside to do my thing, grab my Frisbee, and get back up onto the couch by myself. After awhile, I was even hungry and got up and ate. By lunchtime, I was feeling pretty darn good and did my usual patrol around the perimeter of the yard, barked at a few people, and played with my ball. When Dad came home I was feeling like myself again and wanted to play some. What I really like about all this is that I have to take some icky pills and Mom made meatloaf to hide them in for me. She thinks I don’t know they’re in there, but I really do. Every now and then I’ll spit one out so she has to give me more meatloaf!

I’ve been to the vet twice since then. She changes the bandage and tells me what a good dog I am. Mom’s pretty happy, and the vet said it’s healing really well. There was hardly any swelling or bleeding, and I never ran a temperature, and I’m eating and drinking, and even playing. I helped Mom dig in the garden yesterday. That was fun! Of course, now that I’m feeling better, the bandage is starting to bother me. I tried to be discrete about licking it yesterday, but Mom caught me and put the lampshade on me again. I gave her the puppy-dog eyes, and drooped my tail and cuddled up close to her, so she took it off. She’s such a pushover. But, I learned my lesson and have been trying really hard not to lick at the bandage anymore. At least now when Mom and Dad are around.

I go back for one more bandage change on Tuesday, and get the stitches out on Friday. Then I should be good as new! I can’t wait, ‘cause the bandage is itchy. And I really don’t want to go to the vet again. I’m afraid they’re gonna give me that nasty shot again. The one that made me feel so whoozie and made me want to throw up later on. I try hiding from them when we go. I hid under the chair, but they found me. I thought if I hid behind Mom’s legs that she’d feel sorry for me and not make me get on the table, but that didn’t work, either. Oh well, as long as they don’t give me that shot again, or try to cut my nails, I’ll be ok.

Is that everything, Spooky?

I think that about covers it. There’s been so much that we could go on and on and on, but those are the big points. Despite all the stress of getting here, and the accidents and far too many trips to the vet, we do like our new home. The yard is big and wonderful (there are pictures of it in the photo section of the blog), and our house is big and fun, and we've FINALLY trained Dad to let us both sleep on the bed with them. And it's taken me quite a few years, but I've also finally got him trained to feed me whenever I ask for food, gve us table scraps, and open the door for me whenever I want in and out. He was much harder to train than Mom, but I suspect the male of that species are all hard to train. You can see pictures of Mom and Dad, the house, the garden, and most importantly, of Spike and me in the photo album.

That’s right. If you want to see lots and lots of pictures of us, look in the “Spike and Spooky in Germany” photo album on this blog. Aren’t we handsome? That's what Mom tells us all the time, too!

Thanks for reading all about us. We’ll try to get Mom to write some more, too. She has good intentions, but somehow doesn’t get to it as often as she should!

Bye Now!

Love,

Spike and Spooky.

How come your name is always first?

I’m oldest.

So, I’m youngest. And more handsome. And much smarter.

Yea, right – NOT!