Fluffy sneezy stuff

Last night, my foster dad wrapped some plastic around his shoulders. Then mom used these buzzing things on his head. I wasn't sure I liked to buzzing. I went closer to mom to sniff it out. She told me to move over unless I wanted a haircut, too. What's a haircut? Can you eat it? Then I saw stuff falling on the floor. Must be food. I moved in to sniff it. Achoo! Sniff. Achoo! Sniff. Achoo! It tickles my nose. Sniff. Achoo! Sniff. Achoo!  

 

"Bart! Go lay down..."   

 

Achoo! 

Mom says I'm a goofball

So for all my four-legged friends out there, I invented a fun new game that you can play all by yourself. Lay on your side. Bring your nose down toward your middle and roll to push yourself onto your back. All four legs should be in the air. Then lean ever so slightly to the other side, and let your body fall to that side. THUMP! Then repeat in the opposite direction. THUMP!. Again. THUMP! THUMP! More. THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! THUMP! My foster mom was laughing and laughing, and she called me a goofball, which sounds kinda nice so I got up and gave her a kiss. Then back to my game. It's especially fun if you have an itch on your back that you want to rub.
THUMP!!!
THUMP!!!
THUMP!!!

The Best Visitors Ever!

Haloooooooo!
My foster parents had the best visitors over last night! Mostly when humans come over, they pat my head and then push me away while I try to smell them. They don't realize that a good introductory sniff can take several minutes, so I usually don't get to finish. But the pretty lady who came over last night named Kristen spent the whole night giving me hugs and kisses and letting me smell her and telling me how pretty I am and how much she wanted to take me home. I would have been happy to go with her, but the man she was with said no. He was good at petting me, too, and let me sniff him a whole bunch. I think they have other dogs at home and he didn't think their boy dog would like me. But I think EVERYONE likes me, so I don't see the problem. Anyway, I'm still looking for my forever home, but enjoying it here, too. Another grey joined our pack yesterday named Victoria. Mom says she "visiting." I like her. She's pretty. I love "visitors!"
RooRooo!
BART

I'm learning...decorations are NOT dog treats...

Here's a tip for all my fellow greys in foster homes. If your people have a tree in their house--which is confusing enough--they might hang things on it that look and smell interesting. I sampled one last night. It didn't taste great, but it felt good to chew on. Not for long though! My foster mom and dad made a very convincing argument for me to "drop it" and "leave it." Mom hung it back on the tree. I'm not sure why those things are on the tree, but apparently, they are not for me. I wonder how dad feels about that shiny thing with buttons he's always holding and pointing at the TV...
Sniff, sniff,
BART

I Love to Party!

Hey friends!
I did something exciting on Sunday -- I went to a party! It was a holiday social for all the Greyhound Options humans and hounds. I've never been to a party before, but I can't wait to go to another one! There were so many humans petting me and telling me how sweet and handsome I am. I got to catch up with some hounds I've met before, and got to sniff lots of new ones, too. But the best part, the very best part, was a long, long table covered in treats!!! I could barely look at anything else! My people only gave me treats from one dish on the end, but that was OK because they were so yummy. I tried to help myself a few times, but I guess you're not allowed to do that at a party. Anyway, next time you're planning a party, don't forget to invite your buddy Bart!
Happy Howlidays!

A Failure to Communicate

Hello Bloggers!
I'm looking for some help from my fellow four-footed friends. My foster family keeps a whole lot of my food on the porch in a closet in a bin. I don't find this convenient at all, but I try to make the best of it. Since I can't open the door to the porch by myself, when I want to get out there, I go to the door and push my head against it. Sometimes, I also whine and scratch the door. Very clear, right? Wrong! Whenever I do this, one of the human people leads me out, right past the food closet (which I can open by myself with my nose and a little perseverance) and outside. But it's cold outside! And there is no food out there! So I stand at that door. Sure enough, someone comes to the door to let me in, but again, they don't let me stop at the food closet and hustle me right back into the house! Help! Is there a special bark, wag, or sign any of you can recommend?
Your Buddy, Bart