Busy Beavers

I apologize for my lack of blogging lately. Exactly one month between postings is completely unacceptable. Unfortunately, there are only so many hours in a day and blogging has had to take a back burner to more pressing activities. For instance, we have been busy baking and begging in an effort to further my philanthropic work with Adopt a Boxer Rescue. Mom and I built this wishing well to collect donations for AABR during Potomac Boxer Club's Spring Specialty show held April 24, 2010. We are pleased to announce that PBC raised $200 to help our less fortunate, four-legged furry friends.

Boxer Wishing Well on display at Spring Specialty

Since spring has sprung, Dad and I have been busy working in the gardens making them attractive for our fine feathered friends − the Ruby-throated hummingbirds. Our first siting was last Thursday, April 29. I'm not so sure that my little sister, Thelma Lou − or Spoon Head as Dad often calls her − is going to have a green paw like I do. Over the weekend, for example, she ripped out all the candy corn plants that Dad planted either because she didn't like them or she has such a passion for planting that she thought she'd rip them out so that she could watch him replant them.

Speaking of outdoors, Mom and I are going overnight camping with our Dog Scout Troop on June 5. Last Saturday we had orientation on how to be responsible campers, leaving no trace behind. Part of the instruction included learning how to pee and poop in the woods which I demonstrated without a problem. Having my requisite three "poop bags" in my backpack, Mom was readily able to clean up after me when I made a deposit on the trail. Unfortunately, she placed the bagged treasure in the back of Barbie, the Chevy Malibu, and forgot about it for nearly two days. As you can imagine, after two day of baking in the hot sun, the aroma made for a very nostril-opening experience when she entered the car Monday morning.

Newman models his Outward Hound Backpack

In addition to learning how to start a fire with one match, we learned about digging cat holes. Dad tried to tell me that  you dig cat holes to bury cats − that the only good cat was a buried cat. But Scout Master Ann explained the real definition of  a cat hole − what humans need to dig to properly bury their excrement so as to leave no trace of the behind behind! Thanks, Ann, for the proper explanation. I've buried my little brother Roger in the sand, purely out of brotherly love, but I think that burying a cat on our upcoming trip might hinder my chances of earning my camping badge.

Roger in a Rage