The Bunk Turns One!
Yes, my friends: The Bunk has now completed the first year of his life, and is charging in a glorious, 44-pound blur of hair and teeth into his second.
If our first nine months with The Bunk have taught us anything, it's that the standard poodle may just be the crème de la crème of the canine world. He is even-tempered (ask his cousin Emily how tolerant and patient he is when being ordered and tugged around by a kindergartener), obedient (usually, when it comes to "sit" and "down" and "leave it," but we're still working on "no bark" and some other things), does not beg for table scraps, does not shed, and is the lovingest, cuddliest dog in history. (These are objective observations, by the way.)
A few days ago I found a book called Pet Poodle from the 1950s while poking around at the Clay Book Store. In it, Arlene Erlanger writes with unabashed sentiment and charming effusion about the poodle, a breed she calls, with typical hyperbole, "all dogs to all men." One passage in particular reminded me of The Bunk, and what we have come to love so dearly about him: "Food and exercise are not as vital to his well-being as human companionship: he can get along under almost any conditions; he can do without regular meals; he can do without adequate exercise, but he cannot live without love." (She also writes, when discussing a male poodle's elimination habits, "Sometimes lifting the leg is merely a form of courtesy in a dog, corresponding to the gesture of a gentleman's lifting his hat." Now, I know it's been rather a long while since gentlemen wore hats and regularly tipped them at folks they passed in the street, but I don't think The Bunk means a friendly greeting when he lifts his leg on a tree...)
The Bunk was born August 24, 2008 in Reamstown. (Can it have been a year already? "Sunrise, sunset / Swiftly flow the days...") The earliest known pictures we have of him are at nine weeks, when he was still named Mercedez (which sounds like the name of some spoilt, odious little prat that would be featured on a show like MTV's "My Super Sweet Sixteen"). He came into our lives around Thanksgiving (at 3 months) and, well, he's perfect. In fact, sometimes we'll be watching him play, or sleep, or we'll be petting him or brushing him, and we'll literally look at each other and say, "He is the perfect dog." And it's damn right.
The Bunk at nine weeks old, less than a month before we got him.
The Bunk, Christmas 2008, aged four months.
The Bunk chills by the window a couple of weeks ago; note that his right ear is blowing in the breeze created by the air vent on top of which he has positioned himself.
The Bunk, recently trimmed by his friends at the Total Dog, relaxes in the chair on a lazy Sunday (just yesterday, in fact), and looks out the front window at some perceived interloper; soon, there will be barking.
The Bunk poses on his birthday specially for you, his adoring fans.
One Small Step for Bunk, One Giant Leap for Canis Familiaris
In honor of the 40th anniversary of the Apollo Moon Landing hoax, I thought I'd give you all an update on The Bunk. (There is no connection aside from the post's title; just go with it.) It’s been more than two months since I last posted an entry about The Bunk, our charming fluffball of a standard poodle—and that entry detailed my dismay at the radical shearing our boy underwent back in May to remedy the “mats” in his fur.
But contrary to my worst fears, Bunk’s powers of sweetness and devotion were not contained, Samson-like, in his hair; he’s been the lovingest, cuddlingest little four-legged companion a guy could ask for.And his hair is growing back in, so he’s got far more “poof” going on.
As the months go by—we’ve had Bunk now for eight months, and this coming Friday is his 11-month birthday—more and more of his enchanting personality emerges.When one of us opens the door to the pantry, for instance, he will daintily take a treat out of the bag on the floor and carry it out to the living room, where he happily (but systematically) devours it.He never takes more than one at a time—though he’s been known to return for seconds when the pantry door is left ajar.
Bunk’s new favorite spot to lounge is in the chair by the window whose color has been the subject of ongoing and vociferous disagreements in the Monsoon household.(Mrs. Monsoon insists it’s green; I say it’s tan.What say you, dear reader?See pictures below.)
Though he has his moments of vigor and verve, and he surely enjoys a bit of roughhousing or a long walk through town, Bunk seems to love nothing more than to join one of us in a nap, or to fall asleep at our side while being petted.We’re still trying to work on “down” (as in, “Bunk, please don’t signal your enthusiasm for our guest by engaging her in an involuntary chest-bump”), and the oddest things set him off to barking (“No bark!” doesn’t seem to have any effect on him; nor do “Bunk, Jesus!” or “Give it a rest!”).
Back on Memorial Day weekend, Bunk had his first exposure to fireworks during the Adamstown Community Days celebration.In short, he hates them.He spent the whole time cowering and trembling next to Mrs. Monsoon, and he still gets spooked when he hears thunder or gunfire; the Adamstown Rod & Gun Club is across the valley, so when they’re open, Bunk is pressed up against me, tail tucked between his legs.(I thought about taking this opportunity to insult the folks who patronize the above-mentioned gun range, but then I remember that they have guns, and I don’t.)
Here are the pictures...
The Bunk lies surrounded by his toys, as is his wont; here he has actually fallen asleep while chewing on his bone
The Bunk in the chair by the window with head propped adorably on armrest
The Bunk's favored deep-sleeping position: on his back with top half of his body torqued 90 degrees--and of course, toys arrayed about him
The Bunk at the ready, eager as always to please
The Bunk, Shorn. Bandana = Insult to Injury.
Jon, from The Total Dog and a Little Cat, called at 3pm.They had tried to save Bunk’s lush, shaggy coat—his trademark, the feature that puts the unk in Bunk—but the mats were too inscrutable, the tangles too numerous.Despite our religious brushing regimen, which has been chronicled here, Bunk’s hair was determined to kink, knot and snarl itself into jungly oblivion.And so, though he’d only been scheduled for a sorely-needed bath and a bit of maintenance grooming while at doggy day care, Bunk needed to be closely cropped.I was to pick him up in the evening.
And I did.
It’s not that Jon bungled the cut; on the contrary, he does lovely work.It’s just that when Bunk came out from behind the counter, he looked as though he’d been through some sort of cartoon wringer where Tom comes out stick-thin (but perfectly unharmed) on the other side.He nearly knocked me over with his customary jubilant leap of greeting, so I knew it was him, but I couldn’t shake the sense that someone had stolen half of my dog.
All I could do was gape, and chuckle in disbelief, and shake my head.Actually, I shouldn’t use past tense there; still gawping, still chortling, still waving the noggin to and fro with incredulity from time to time.He’s spindly now, and he almost looks like a...
a...
a poodle.(shudder)
Until his luscious locks grow back—and I’ve been assured, they will grow back, to our desired length—no one will mistake him for goldendoodle or a labradoodle or any other kind of doodle.(He’s still our Bunk-a-doodle, though.Always our boy.)
But truly there are no words for the change that has occurred in Bunk’s appearance. Only photographic evidence can really do it justice.And so...
The Bunk in All His Hirsute, Unshorn Glory, Near End of April
The Bunk, on Same Couch, Pruned Clean of Six Yaks' Worth of Hair
The Bunk, Shorn. Bandana = Insult to Injury
The Bunk, Mown to the Nubs Like a Midsummer Lawn; Furry Arms Do Remind Me of Grover, So There's That
I fear that Bunk's powers were in his flowing locks—like Samson, or Fabio—and hereafter he’ll just be an ordinary dog. But when his hair grows back, the majesty of The Bunk will rise again...
Monsoon's How Hot Will It Get / Bunk-a-bration
How hot will it get? No, that’s not the title of the newest jam by Thugg Mugg featuring Flexx Nutz and Neecie Flambé. It’s a reference to the near-record temperatures, 20 degrees or more above the seasonal average high (the low to mid 60s), that await us this weekend.
But first, allow me to celebrate: Friday is the eight-month anniversary of The Bunk’s birth, and he’s still a delight. He is fully healed from his surgery and seems to be coping well with his no-nad-hood.
Some personality (caninality? clumsy as that sounds, I think it’s actually a word) quirks continue to emerge: he is an inveterate finger- and toe-licker, for reasons that even he would be at a loss to explain; he prefers to sleep whilst jammed up against a door, preferably lying on his back with his extremities in the air; one of his favorite pastimes is to splash around with his paws in a shallow receptacle—like a water bowl, for example; he has a weakness for toilet paper sur la rouleau (on the roll); he likes being brushed, but things take a sour turn when someone tries to brush, however delicately, in the area of his nethers—then he emits a reedy lamentation (which is unfailingly hilarious) and tries to bite the brush, and the brusher. In short, we love him.
So here are some recent pictures of The Bunk for your enjoyment.
The Bunk on The Couch
The Bunk Examines Backyard; Gets Scritch from Monsoon
The Bunk Slumbers in Splayed Contentment
Now, on to the weather.Let’s look first at the next five days or so...
Friday 4/24: Mostly sunny and warmer with mild southwest breezes.High 77, low 49.
Saturday 4/25: Plenty of sunshine, breezy and still warmer.The temperature should easily eclipse the record of 84, set in 2001.High 87, low 56.
Sunday 4/26: Sunny, clear and very warm.The temperature could challenge the record of 91 set in 1990. High 90, low 58.
Monday 4/27: Partly cloudy and continued very warm.We could again challenge a record: 92, set almost a century ago in 1915.High 89, low 56.
Tuesday 4/28: Partly cloudy and still warm, but not quite as balmy; increasing clouds and humidity.High 82, low 56.
The second half of next week is looking grey and wet (no, that’s not Rue McClanahan’s memoir of struggling to maintain her libido into her 70s, it’s just a description of the weather) with highs in the upper 60s, lows in the upper 40s, and rain possible on Wednesday and Thursday.
Next weekend, as we limp into May, we’re looking at conditions a bit below normal with highs in the 50s on Saturday 5/2 and the mid to upper 60s on Sunday 5/3, with cloud cover and rain possible on Sunday.
The first full week of May (Monday the 4th through Friday the 8th) is looking seasonably pleasant and right about average, with highs in the low 70s and lows in the upper 40s to low 50s.The next really good chance of rain comes in around that next weekend, the 9th and 10th.
Monsoon's Weather / Bunk Update for Sunday, 5 April 2009
I’m well overdue for a weather update, so here goes: we’re going to be fluctuating wildly through the coming weeks—60s one day, 40s the next; rain one day, brilliant sunshine the next—so be sure to dress and prepare accordingly.Just a little weather tip from your old pal Monsoon.
[A quick update on The Bunk, who had surgery to remove his testicles on Monday 3/30: he’s recuperating like a champ.He’s all hirsute energy, and was thrilled to have been freed from his “cone” (the Elizabethan collar) a couple of days ago—though he still wears it at night.Wound is healing nicely, all is well, and he’ll be visiting his friends at the Total Dog on Tuesday!Pretty soon I’ll let him address you all again, as he so memorably (and profanely) did the day of his surgery.A couple of snapshots appear after the forecast.]
Sunday 4/5 – sunny and very mild with a high in the mid to upper 60s.Clouding up in the evening ahead of an approaching cold front.Look for rain developing toward dawn on Monday.Low 48.
Monday 4/6 – overcast and rather windy with rain—heavy at times—and a thunderstorm likely.Watch for hail and damaging winds with the storm, though I don’t think we’re going to approach the widespread damage seen last weekend.Rain becoming intermittent in the evening, tapering to showers and drizzle late.High 59, low 43.
Tuesday 4/7 – mostly cloudy; clearing throughout the day.A shower cannot be ruled out early.Quite windy and markedly colder.High 46, low 29.
Wednesday 4/8 – partly cloudy, breezy and chilly.High 47, low 33.
Thursday 4/9 – partly cloudy with clouds rolling in late; rain possible in the evening and overnight.Milder.High 54, low 38.
Friday 4/10 – rather cloudy and breezy with showers and drizzle possible on and off throughout the day.High 52, low 45.
Next weekend is looking clear and seasonably mild for the holiday celebrations, egg hunts, and the like: clear to partly cloudy and breezy with highs in the mid to upper 50s and lows around 40.
Next week is looking rainy and cool—at least to start.Rain is possible anytime Monday through Wednesday, with highs only in the low to mid 50s.By Thursday and Friday we’re looking at clearing skies and somewhat milder conditions with temperatures getting into the upper 50s and low 60s.
Beyond we’re looking a bit rainy (April showers, and all that) and cool, followed by the warmest temperatures of the season so far around the 20th or 21st—highs perhaps reaching into the 70s!
The Bunk Pauses in Chewing Toy to Pant, Gaze Out Window.
The Bunk Gazes Sweetly at Monsoon. On Far Left of Picture Lies Remnants of Ropy Triceratops Toy, Mercilessly Pulverized By Sweet Bunk.
"Where My Ding-Dangs At?" - The Bunk
In honor of his successful surgery today, I thought I’d let Bunk write this post reflecting on his experiences.Enjoy!
Hey, everybody! Has anyone seen my nuts?
But I kid.How they hangin'? Just a little joke among us castrati.
Earlier today I was neutered.I was asleep for it, but I’m not going to lie: I’ve got some lingering groin tenderness.
I know all about why it’s good and right for me to have undergone this surgery.I’ll live longer, I’ll stop pissing on the vacuum cleaner at the doggy day care, and I can stop all the damned humping already.(Not that I was known for it or anything—my owners nipped that in the bud the first time I got a little too friendly with a leg—but every now and again, when the testosterone started flowing...well, a dog’s gotta do what a dog’s gotta do.)
I spent the first hour or two after my owners brought me home in utter misery.As if the whole castration thing weren't indignity enough, I’ve got this goddamned Elizabethan collar on my head to stop me from biting the wound. I’m trying to walk around the house, and I don’t have peripheral vision worth a good god damn, so I keep running into shit.Mr. and Mrs. Monsoon keep stifling laughs when that happens, like it’s adorable and pathetic all at once.Maybe I’ll bite one of them on the ankle, and then when they hop around bleeding and screaming, I’ll snicker about how adorable and pathetic they look.Hey—a dog can dream...
After laying and whining for a bit, then trying futilely to rid myself of this infernal collar, I had a bit of a nosh and then conked out in front of the door.I’m supposed to wear this thing 24/7 for ten days, and I can’t run and jump for a week and a half either (no worries there—I don’t think Monsoon would be elevating for any dunks after having his tatties lopped off, you know what I’m saying?).
Below are a few pictures, some of which will enable you to enjoy a titter at my expense. Go on. Laugh it up, Chuckles. I may be a fuzzy ball of unimaginable cuteness, but I'll ... well, suffice it to say I’ve met some pretty unsavory bitches at doggy day care.
The BUNK
I gaze out the window in simpler times, just days before the surgery: pre-collar, pre-"fixing."
It just ain't right.
Trying to get a bite to eat.
Pondering the indignity of it all.
Monsoon Celebrates The Bunk
Friends,
The Bunk turned seven months old on Tuesday! He's now approximately 40 pounds and just as fluffy and adorable. In fact, several times a day, Mrs. Monsoon says, "Oh my God, do we not have the cutest dog in the whole wide world?" (And that's not just the pain pills talking.)
It's a rhetorical question, of course: we do, in fact, have the cutest dog in the whole wide world.
Next week, The Bunk will be facing the first surgery of his young life; he will undergo an orchidectomy. (No, this procedure does not involve an orchid, as pleasant as this sounds. The etymology of "orchidectomy" is Greek: "orchis" means "testis" and "ectomy" means removal. In other words, he's having his bollocks evacuated. His knapsack emptied. He will be nadless.)
All that aside, here are some great recent shots of The Bunk!
The Bunk Takes Break from Squeaky Lizard Conquest.
The Bunk Keeps Watch on Backyard from Favorite Spot.
The Bunk, in Full Just-Groomed Poof, Claims The Monsoon
The BUNK Frolics in the Snow
Friends,
A dispatch from Monday's snowstorm - The Bunk enjoyed the snow quite a bit, as is evidenced by the two pictures below. He was soaking wet when we brought him in--especially his "undercarriage"...
Enjoy!