I can't win.

Well, it never seems to fail, but I am incapable of getting through a week without at least one calamity if not two....or three....or f o u r, ahhhhh. Now, in my defense, I am a dog and, although I am held to higher standards than most dogs, in recent days I have fallen short of the mark... again. Where do I begin?

First off, when I stay home I have a tendency to lay around, on the sofa, on the bed (I prefer my mom and dad’s, but my brothers’ and sister’s beds work just fine). Let sleeping dogs lie, I say. I guess my family doesn’t really care to lay in a soft blanket of Pike fur. But, I think it is amazing, if I do say so myself. Granted, I am biased, but PETA can’t complain if you wrap yourself in fur, if said fur is your birthday suit, right? Why my family takes issue with this fur that I come by naturally is beyond me. Sure, I understand that dog fur in the popcorn can be disgusting but the bowl says everything is better with cat hair.... wait a minute, how come the cat can contribute to the culinary magic of Orville Redenbacher but I can’t? I get yelled at and told to “stay off the bed, Pike,” “get off the couch Pike,” “Pike, get out of the chair.”

DO they really expect me to lay around on the floor with Rome? He is a dog dog like the real kind... thank you, but, NO!

Then, as if it isn’t enough that my family thinks they can order me to get down off the objects in MY house they add insult to injury by assuming they can tell me what to eat. Sure you can fill my bowl with Sensitive Skin dog food and I will gladly eat my 2 cups a day but if you refuse to give me snacks, there is no reason, no reason at all that I can’t help myself to the ESCARGOT ala slugs in our yard.

I am capable of learning, you know, 2 slugs plus dinner ok, 3 slugs plus dinner ok, 10 slugs plus dinner, not ok. Lesson learned. In my defense I didn’t know that when you vomit them up they come up black and green and slimy. They certainly didn’t go in that way. I also didn’t realize my family is nuts and would actually sift through the debris at 10:00 at night and count my indiscretion and then remind me of it for the next 20 minutes while they cleaned it up. Had I known there was a limit to the amount of slugs a 40-pound dog can consume. I would have stopped. I mean, I am sure I would have...maybe. But, that is not the point. Whose idea was it so sprinkle salt on the slugs in the yard in the first place.... dad? It was like a pupu platter for 10 out there; did you want me to let them go to waste?

Then, there is the whole “Pike ran away again” issue that seems to be plaguing me all week. Let me ask you this, my faithful readers, what is the point of a dog license if you can’t go anywhere? I mean you can’t go to the beach. You can’t just cruise the isles at the grocery. You’re not welcome in most places in Hawaii and I for one am fed up. I am a fully vaccinated, slug-eating, rabies-free, licensed celebrity for cat’s sake. I should be allowed to go where ever I want and if I want to run around our neighborhood in the morning and greet the day why can’t I? I heard my mom tell my dad she is worried about me getting hit by a car. Why would she even put that out there into the universe? Is she crazy? On second thought, don’t answer that last part. I won’t tell if you won’t.

Finally, as if this week of let down couldn’t get anymore complicated, I managed to humiliate myself by getting stuck under the sofa. I figured if I can’t lay on it, then, by cat, I will lay under it. Well, the getting under there was easy. The getting out...not so much. When mom and dad came home they called for me and I, too embarrassed by my situation, didn’t respond. They searched all over and thought I must have gotten out when they weren’t looking... admittedly it wouldn’t be the first time. After several minutes of them searching for me I managed to stick my nose out a bit and mom saw it.

My dad lifted the sofa up (he is very strong) and I crawled out. I was, however, plagued by my nagging bladder issue. I was so very excited and scared that I began to pee at the first sign of my freedom. Then, in my traumatized state (not really, but it makes for better reading...) I jumped up on the sofa (the aforementioned sofa) and continued to pee (did I mention it is a down filled sofa mom bought when my family lived in Colorado?) Well, mom freaked. Dad tried to get me outside, but my bladder, already in the on position, stayed on. When I did get outside, I could hear my parents pulling the sofa apart to try and save it!

Figuring they could handle it, I took a walk (ok, so I ran) down the hill, around the corner and over to see my good buddy Olive (who is actually Rome’s friend, truth be told). I heard mom and dad yelling and knew I was in huge trouble and there would not be a get out of jail free card this time around. I was headed to that big plastic crate up in the living room. I spent the rest of the day in a Kennel. Rome’s, to be exact, and for the record, he is disgusting. It is with much resentment, uh, I mean hesitation, that I will say this: I guess laying around like a dog, eating dog food only, staying in my yard and not letting curiosity get the better of me are the lessons I need to learn. However, that kind of lifestyle does not make for very good reading. They say an artist often needs to sacrifice for their work. I have an adoring public to think about, so to this, I say, “bring on the slugs.” RUFF!

Life is like, buckets of papaya trees.

We are going to start out with a riddle.

What do you get when you mix three papaya trees, three 5-gallon buckets filled with dirt, 2 dogs and an SUV?

Answer: A Pike’s Corner

Everyone knows that I hate to ride in the car. The only thing worse is having to get in the car when it is raining outside. Imagine my horror when I went to load up in the pouring rain and realized not only would I be riding home in Mom’s SUV, but I also got to share the space with the King of the Space Cadets (ROME) and three buckets filled with dirt and plants. This is like the plot of every nightmare I have ever had, only this was my reality. Mom loaded us up and walked back inside. I tried to close my mind to

what was sure to be the cross between death and dismemberment and a re-run of Nightmare on Elms Street. Rome settled down for a snack. Apparently Papaya tree was on the menu and, from the looks of it, he was enjoying it very much. I waited for Mom to come back, panicking about the car adventure ahead.

While my brother from another planet snacked, I tried to get as close to the seat as possible. I did my best “Elasta Girl” impression and wedged myself between the buckets and the seat and prayed that the Dog Gods would take me in one quick motion. To my surprise, my dad got behind the wheel, which luckily meant we were going straight home and not all the way up to get my sister at preschool. Thanks to the universe for small favors.... nope, I spoke too soon.

About halfway home, I heard the tell tale signs coming from Rome that perhaps papaya trees are not the best snacks for dogs.

My dad heard it too and I could tell that the car sped up a bit as Rome vomited up the contents of the fleshy tree that had stood so happily in the bucket, just moments before. I was thankful I was out of the splash zone ensconced behind the white buckets and pinned against the seat. This is self-preservation at its finest folks.

When dad got home, he was very thankful for Mom’s foresight. She had covered the whole back of the SUV with a blanket, protecting the floor, the seat and everything in between. I was between a seat back and a bucket with a sea of Rome’s dietary indiscretion in front of me, so I stayed put. Dad unloaded everything and pulled the blanket out, spilling me onto the concrete, clean and physically undamaged. As for my mental state, I may need to take a day off for some couch therapy to put the whole incident behind me. Captain Idiot, unfazed by his latest vomiting episode, bound out into the yard, looking for his next great adventure.

When Mom got home, Dad explained what happened and pointed out the papaya trees. One of our staff, Lyndsey, brought the banana trees home from the office for my mom and dad. Why Mom didn’t think to send the whole lot of plants with her is beyond me. I guess Mom wasn’t thinking about Rome the Destroyer. He won’t eat a piece of banana but can’t resist cockroaches and whole papaya trees... um,okay! My mom laughed and grabbed the shovel and pick ax and set to work planting the trees in the pouring rain. Dad interviewed a doctor over the phone and I surveyed the action from inside where it was dry. With four new banana trees and the two remaining papayas planted, Mom headed for a shower and Dad made some dinner. I laid down in my soft bed and closed my eyes, glad that the last hour was behind me. Rome took a nap and did his best impression of a dead cockroach as we drifted off to sleep with the sound of rain falling outside. I wished for sweet dreams and, for the record, I prefer mangos. RUFF!

New habits!

Well, as you have all heard, my family recently adopted a bird. When Pineapple arrived, I thought it was an interactive toy.... NO PIKE!!!!! Then I realized that this little bird could be good for the whole family. My human brother gets a new friend to love, my sister gets to watch this new little feathered from from a far. Rome is very interested in watching him. This is good for me because now he is not bothering me as much. I also realized in this last week of bird discovery that if you stand by the cage while the little bugger is eating, it is like being at a parade with

someone tossing out treats right and left. My mom said we should put Pineapple’s impression of a snow blower on YOU TUBE. He gets inside his little feeder and the seeds just go flying out the back end. Oddly, this seems to be the norm for this odd little bird. I watch as the the bird hops around his cage, cheep cheep cheeping. Then the birds outside start cheep cheep cheeping. Let’s put it this way, it is like a symphony of birds only instead of a scheduled concert, this is an impromptu adventure at six in the morning. What is it with new pets and their need to disrupt my sleep patterns? I just don’t understand. Overall I guess I can say that this bird has been a welcome addition to our family.I am curious how bird seed can make that silly bird poop every 15 minutes? My mom looked it up and yes they really do go that often. I guess it will make my brother think again when he complains about back yard scooper duty.

Now, I doubt my family will be taking him to the schools for the Animal and Aina program they do, what with all of Pineapples “habits”, but then again, I didn’t think Rome would be a good candidate either but, according to the teachers and our staff, he did an amazing job. Of course, how hard is it to behave on a leash right? Hummm... obviously, since I didn’t get to go this year, it does raise the question, doesn’t it? The second graders at Konaweana Elementary School had a great time this year. They got to learn all about taking care of dogs and cats. They got to watch my brother get his teeth brushed for five days in a row (better him then me). He actually really likes to get his teeth brushed! I on the other hand, really only like the poultry-flavored toothpaste.

The second graders got to learn about whiskers and how they work. They learned about how their ears, nose, and eyes work and how they compare to us animals. For the record, even with my one eye, I still see better then a human. Maybe not as good as a cat, but I would never admit it. It is plausible deny-ability. I learned that term on CNN this week and I like it.

Overall, I guess this last week or so has been pretty great. I think my family is healing from our loss and experiencing all kinds of new adventures with our new bird, Pineapple. My mom and Stacia a gearing up for another round of school programs for the next school year and me, well I am going to use my imagination and pretend I am an anteater... only my sticky tongue is going to be hunting bird seed. This shouldn’t be too hard. Oh where do I start? Wait a minute... MOM!!!!! Did you vacuum while I was writing my column? Cats foiled again. I was so looking forward to a little more plausible deny-ability. RUFF!