Zoey

Archive for September, 2012|Monthly archive page

First Drafts on Cute Dogs

In All About Me, Being Cute, Shelley Widhalm on September 30, 2012 at 11:30 am

There are no first drafts to being cute.

You’re either cute or you’re not cute.

I, obviously, fall into the first category. I am a 10-pound long-haired miniature dachshund with a big bark. I have black tipped ears and black markings, which a few people have commented make me pretty, beautiful and, well, just plain cute.

I do not need second or third drafts to polish my looks.

In other words, I was born cute. Check out my mini-photo album to see why I am considered the cutest dachshund this side of the Mississippi.

Zoey the Cute Dachshund sits on a coffee shop table awaiting comments from passersby that she’s cute.

Zoey the Dashchund is cute even when she sleeps.

Zoey is cute as a statue, or so cute you can’t help taking a photo of her with the art.

 

Zoey Writes a News Article

In All About Me, Being Cute, Dog Writing, Shelley Widhalm on September 23, 2012 at 11:30 am

Zoey the Lapdog uses her laptop to write a barking news story.

News flash: Zoey the Cute Dachshund is the cutest dog in the world, according to the scientific measures of cuteness, research on the topic and personal anecdote.

Double news flash: When it comes to Zoey’s cuteness, there needs to be a flashing banner across the top of this webpage, stating “ZOEY IS DARN CUTE!”

Zoey, a clever dog who blogs, wrote a news article:

LOVELAND – Zoey the Cute Dachshund reeled in the praise with her cute looks as she strolled downtown. (THIS IS MY LEAD)

Without too much fanfare, the Loveland dog, 3, willingly accepted the praise from the newest addition to her fan club. (SO FAR, I’VE ANSWERED who, what AND where)

“I can’t resist petting her when she’s wagging her tail like that,” a woman said Monday morning as she left a newly reopened coffee shop.

The woman proceeded to pet Zoey, remarking to Zoey’s lucky pet parent about her high level of cuteness.

“She just loves people,” said Shelley, __, the pet parent. (The “__” is because Shelley won’t let me tell you her age – insert doggie eye roll here.)

The woman left, but more fans stopped, asking if they could pet Cute, Adorable, Darling Zoey.

Duh!

“I am a dog, and therefore I love to be petted,” Zoey said with her eyes. (Humans don’t get dog speak.) “I am not an aloof, snout-in-the-air cat. See my belly. Pet here!”

Shelley, the lucky one, worked on her laptop (writing boring stuff because it wasn’t about me), while Zoey continued soliciting pets.

Zoey averages about 10 to 12 pets an hour in Loveland but about 20 in Fort Collins.

“It’s because I’m cute and people can’t resist a cute pup!” Zoey said in an exclusive interview.

For related writings on Zoey’s writing talents, see Zoey’s personal essay, memoir and canine poetry.

Zoey Writes Her Memoir

In All About Me, Being Cute, Dog Writing, Shelley Widhalm on September 16, 2012 at 11:30 am

Zoey the Cute Dachshund is quite proud of her memoir.

As the cutest dachshund this side of the Mississippi (I mean globally), I can just sit here and be admired.

I don’t even have to try, because wherever I go, I get told I’m cute, adorable and pretty (thank you, thank you). I get petted and the best ever ear scratches.

But as a dog blogger, things don’t come so easily. I actually have to work at writing. I have to sit my butt in the chair and put my paws to the keyboard. So, here I am, a 3 ½-year old pup getting ready to tell her memoir.

I’m not supposed to start with when I was born, but that was a pretty important day – Dec. 20, 2008, the day the world stopped to celebrate (right?) five days before Christmas and 11 day before New Year’s Day. And what a year was 2009, and of course, 2010 to now.

I was separated from my litter and sent to a pet store, where I was adopted at nine weeks. I saw her, the One, when she came in looking at all the cages of puppies. She, of course, thought I was the cutest one and asked the store person with the keys to my cage if she could hold me.

I leaned my head on her chest, gave her kisses and looked adoringly into her eyes, and she left! How dare she!!!

But get this, the next day, she came back with her mom and they both held me. Mom said I should be taken home, and I was thinking, duh!

When I was taken to there, I found out my name and her name – Zoey and Shelley. Nice ring to them, don’t you think?

I learned that I weighed 2 pounds, 11 ounces, small enough to fit into my six-inch squared squishy bed.

So to make a long story short, I grew and accumulated toys and got treats and played hard. I had to get a bigger bed. I learned how to climb stairs and stand on my hind legs, wave, sit, lie down and roll over. I barked at the big dogs and fought over tug-of-war, winning with my superior girl power strength.

In essence, I went from a pup to a bigger pup to a dog. I went from kind of naughty to mostly good, but not all good, because that would be boring.

Basically, I grew from little to big, learning along the way that there’s so much to smell wherever I go. I’m not one to skip stopping and smelling the roses or whatever other pretty thing is on my path.

Zoey the Dachshund Writes an Essay

In All About Me, Being Cute, Dog Writing, Shelley Widhalm on September 9, 2012 at 11:30 am

Zoey the Cute Dachshund is sad about being left home all day while Shelley goes off to work.

As a clever (and cute) dachshund, I’ve tried my paw at writing poetry and blogging. Now, I’m going to embark (get it? Em-bark!) on personal essays.

A personal essay represents what dogs think or feel about a topic or can express thoughts, feelings and emotions related to a personal experience. The essay is autobiographical and written in the first-person (or first-dog) point of view with a message or theme.

An essay by a dog should cover the topics we care about, such as the dispensing of treats, the need for playtime and the unfortunate lack of attention that results when our pet parents go off to work.

Here is my essay, titled, “What A Dog Thinks about the Work Week, and Why Living Freely is Preferable,” or more simply, “Being Bad to the Bone.”

Though dogs require more sleep than humans – partly because we are animals and also because we are bored – that does not mean you can go off to work and leave us all day.

Here is why? Dogs are creatures of comfort that need attention and unlike cats, depend on humans for their activities. These activities include going on walks (have you seen a dog walk itself, leash in its jaw, without an owner anywhere?), playing with our toys (it’s more fun to play in a group than alone) and eating (we can’t pour the dog food out of the sack without thumbs).

But we can bark all on our own and when you’re away, we’re barking at every little sound. We want to make sure the world knows that we’re here, ready to be rescued from our boredom.

Sigh.

When you go to work, what are we supposed to do? It’s not like we can read a book, or paint a picture. When we’re puppies, we have plenty to entertain us from the TP in the bathroom that’s a blast to run and unroll to the shoes perfect for chewing.

But by the time we’ve grown up, we’ve learned how to sit, lie down and obey. We don’t purposely try to be naughty, or at least I don’t.

As a result of my boredom while you’re off working doing your boring stuff, I just nap. And nap. And nap!

Eight hours of napping and barking is too much. So come home.

Now!

In conclusion, I would like to say that all dogs should be taken along to the office when their pet parents go to work, so that our lives are more interesting and productive, and so that you’re lives are better all around – because we’re there, your constant companion at your side.

Zoey Writes a Short Story

In All About Me, Being Cute, Dog Writing, Shelley Widhalm on September 2, 2012 at 11:30 am

Zoey the Cute Dachshund is hard at work at writing a short story. She doesn’t type the normal way, as you can see here.

As the cutest dachshund who can read and write, I figured it’s about time I tell a short story about myself.

I think I’ll write in first person, or first dog, using “I” and “me.” I’ll tell a story with a single plot and theme, a couple of settings and a few characters, though I will preside as the main character, or the protagonist.

Here goes:

Hello there, readers. I am a cute dachshund …
No, that’s not going to work, how about:

With paws on the car window, I wag my tail as we approach the yellow house with the big yard.

“Ready to see grandma?” Shelley says, lifting up the stick thing to make the car stay still.

She opens the door and I jump out and run toward the street.

“Stop!” Shelley yells, and I stop.

She runs to me, swings me up and smothers my cute face with kisses. I had been exploring, but the way she goes on and on, you’d think I’d done something naughty.
“You scared me, little girl. There was a car, and you don’t even know what cars are.”

Why should I?

I stop traffic, at least the kind that goes by on foot. I like to wag my tail to indicate my presence and welcome pets from passersby as I’m on a walk or sitting with Shelley at a coffee shop.

Shelley shoos me inside and I run down the hall to kiss Grandma, or Second Mommy. After that, I go outside to explore the backyard, where there’s a section of missing fence blown over by a windstorm. I don’t go beyond the line in the grass differentiating theirs from ours, because I’m a good girl.

(I know, I know. There isn’t any conflict in my story, but just wait …)

Actually, I’m a good girl only up to a point, because I have a penchant for barking, even at the big dogs and, most certainly, at cats.

My friends in the yards on either side are out, and I bark really loud to say “hello.” I bark and I bark, and they bark back. And then I have to quit barking when Shelley rings the bell (as if bidding me home for dinner, but I come anyway, knowing I’ll get a treat).

I want to stay outside and rule the neighborhood, but Shelley and her mom are leaving me all alone while they go have coffee. It isn’t fair, but how can I tell them that when they give me an extra special treat? A piece of doggie beef jerky.

I plop down and chew.

I’ll just have to save my bad girl barking for later.