Roxy and Her Annoying Little Brother, Stuey

A famous rescue dog reluctantly shares the spotlight with her little brother.

Stuey Will Chew No Slippers Before Their Time

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I’ve got my eyes on these slippers.

They’re brand new, just arrived in a box, delivered by the guy who wears the brown clothes and pretends to like me.

But they’re not quite ready yet. I chewed a pair just like these not long after I arrived here earlier this year. Those were awesome. My mom wore them all the time, so they smelled fantastic. Mmm.

When they were replaced with a new pair I didn’t wait long enough and chewed them too early. Don’t get me wrong: They were a satisfying chew. But they didn’t really stink very much. They hadn’t quite aged properly.

So now we’re on to the third pair (available at llbean.com for $79 — or “79 freaking dollars” as my mom said. Could she be mad about this? Hmm.)

But I will wait. I’ll be like one of those dogs who can sit there with a treat on his snout and not eat it until his owner says “OK.” Yeah, I’ll be just like that.

I want those slippers so bad. But I know that if I can wait even just another month they’ll smell like my mom’s feet, which is one of the best smells out there.

I can do this. I have patience. Just you watch.

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Baby, It’s Cold Outside

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As you might recall, I came here from Tennessee. You know, where it’s warm?

Not that I’d ever complain about my awesome living arrangements, but seriously: It’s so cold that my people are bringing the plants inside tonight. The plants, I tell you. If it’s too cold for plants then why on earth do I have to go out there?

Today I went to watch one of my boys run around after school for some sort of team thing. Not only did they not let me run with him, it was so crazy-cold that I was shivering.

Sure, the shivering thing encouraged a dozen seventh graders from the other team to come over and pet me, which was excellent. But here’s the thing: People kept saying I need a jacket. Or a sweater.

We dug up this puppy photo of me, taken just days after my arrival in Connecticut. I realize this picture is seven or eight months old, but I’m still just as stinking cute now.

I totally want your opinion. Can I pull off the fleece jacket look? Or does it make me look silly?

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So Much to Chew, So Little Time

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As of yesterday, I am one year old. My people keep saying “Well, he’s not a puppy anymore.” As if a date on the calendar is going to make me suddenly stop being me. I mean, I know Roxy is all calm and grown up, but that’s her. I really don’t anticipate giving up any of my wonderful puppy qualities anytime soon.

Just last week, I arranged for one of the boys to get an unexpected new pair of sneakers. All I had to do was chew off the heel of one of his shoes and voila! My mom delivered a new pair right to his school, just moments before his cross country meet. (You’re welcome, by the way.)

And I can’t imagine not jumping up on my people’s beds and licking them every morning, or not wagging my entire body when my people walk in the door, or jumping into the car anytime anyone wants to leave, or climbing on the counter to get some snacks. Those things all make me who I am, so why would I want to become all grown-up like Roxy?

But here’s the thing: I thought I was a leader when it came to Eating Interesting Things. I’ve polished off a pound of raw hamburger, a batch of chocolate cookie dough, stinky cheese, the newspaper, filet mignon, a jalapeno popper and countless slices of bacon.

Pretty good, right? Yet I’ve got nothing on this dog I heard about the other day. It seems there’s this Springer Spaniel from Massachusetts who has eaten lawn fertilizer, an entire bag of Halloween candy, and a pair of Ray Ban sunglasses. Made of glass.

This amazing dog, named Tahoe, is seven years old. I’m just one. So clearly, I’ve got a lot of living to do. And none of it’s going to get done with me acting like an adult.

If my mom is looking for a title to her next book, I think I’ve got it: “Stuey, the Forever Puppy.”

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