Bojie and Rigsby- How the west was won, one Newf at a time

Seasons greeting from the 3 Bears. Yes...3

2015-01-15T22:16:00.000-07:00

Hullo. It's been a while. But I'm back. Perhaps this photo will let you know what we've been up to...there are 3 of us now. The mommas got some kind of addiction. This ones name is Smooch. And she's a she! (Yes. That is a little sister sitting next to me, apparently I'm such a great Newf, my mom wanted more like me)

Help our friends at Kloofbear Kennels

2013-05-30T10:58:00.000-06:00

Hi Friends,

We have some sad news. One of our friends and breeder, Evelyn DeReus, of Kloofbear Newfoundlands had a fire a few nights ago that destroyed their kennel. They lost 4 of their beloved newfs. Evelyn and husband Brian are in the hospital with burns from trying to save their Newfs. Please send your thoughts and prayers to the Kloofbear family. And if you'd like to help, a PayPal account has been set up for donations here:

PAYPAL ACCOUNT DETAILS

email address - amordorinewf@yahoo.com
name - Josette Chrystall
address - 63 Brook St, Wellesley, MA, USA, 02482

This kennel holds a special place in our hearts as many of Bojie and Rigsby's bestest Newf friends were born there. Hug your dogs extra tightly and be grateful for each moment we're blessed to have them.

Blah blah blah, my brothers a star, blah blah blah. . .

2013-04-06T21:28:00.000-06:00

Hullo. I guess I have an announcement. The Momma took my little brother away for the weekend and came back and told me all of this cool stuff about Riggs. I know I act like he annoys me sometimes but I guess I'm kind of proud of him. I just don't want to tell him because he doesn't need to get a big head.

At the Scottsbluff kennel club show on april 30^,2013 “Rigsby”, Ch. beeCreek’s State of the Union CGC, TDI, RN, BN earned his championship under judge Dr. Robert Smith. Owner-handled by the momma.

To ensure he outdid his stellar performance, the following day, April 31, 2013, Rigsby took best of breed under Judge Robert Stein and went on to the group ring and took a group IV placement! Owner-handled by the momma.

We caught up with Rigsby and attempted an interview about his feelings on winning best of breed just 5 minutes prior to going into the group ring, and found the new champion in a deep state of meditation on his grooming table:

Surely after taking a group IV, Rigsby would be eager to speak with us after his big win, however just 5 minutes after exiting the group ring, we found him unable for comment as he was reflecting on his monumental day:

Oh Dog, my mom just took the keyboard...this might be worse for you to read than it is to listen to elevator music. . .

Rigsby and I started on this journey just this past August as we entered our first show, both novices in the world of conformation. My first show dog, I couldn’t ask for a more patient, loving, trusting companion as we learned and grew together in the conformation ring. When I first spoke to my breeder about getting another Newf, I told her, “I might want to try showing, I’m not sure but above all else he must have a sweet disposition”. I have formed an inexplicable bond with him by handling him and grooming him for shows. We have an early morning date as he gets bathed on show days with the moon still out and temperatures close to freezing with the early morning chill. My hands become numb from the cold water coming out of the hose, and I take breaks as we are greeted by onlookers asking about Newfoundlands, commenting on how good he is with his baths, and the never-ending question of how long it takes to dry him. I am usually equally as wet as he is, but he and I are a team, this is part of our ritual and we are together. When we return to the grooming area I throw his leash over his back and he leaps up to his table, knowing our routine well. As I dry him, he licks my face and eases any nerves I have as ring time grows closer. Once ringside he relaxes as my anxiety increases. We enter the ring together like dance partners, each knowing what is expected of the other. He knows my cues, and I know his. Stacked, he raises his head and his eyes meet mine. His expression melts my heart and makes me fall in love with him all over again just like the first day that we picked him up from the breeder. And suddenly everything that I was nervous about prior to entering the ring disappears. He speaks to me through his eyes, and tells me it’s just Rigsby and me in that ring, no matter how crowded it might be with professional handlers and other beautiful dogs. And so, when the judge tells us, “down and back” I whisper in his ear and tell him “lets dance” and we move together, trusting each other knowing we are both going to do our best for one another no matter what the outcome.

If you asked me about 6 months ago, I would’ve told you I didn’t particularly care for showing, coming from primarily doing working and obedience with my other Newf, Bojie. Spending weekends away and hours and hours in preparation for just a few minutes of ring time has made us bond in a way we wouldn’t have otherwise. We both appreciate just being in each others presence. You see, the truth is, it's not about those few minutes in the ring with the judge. It's about all of those hours leading up to it, and all of those hours after it. And sharing my leftover dinners with him back in the hotel room later that evening. And most nights, even sharing my bed. It has also allowed me to spend a lot of that time with some wonderful mentors and friends who have guided me in the conformation world. Riggs wants to thank all of our very supportive friends who trained his momma not to trip over her own 2 feet (well, ok, just that one time…)

Our friends have been so awesome sending Riggs cards, flowers, cakes, texts and emails. (Note from Bojie: Guess what guys? I got to have Rigsbys CAKE! If it means special cake he can get his championship EVERY day! Also, the balloon was pretty cool. Oh, and yes, we also got blue TOW HITCH TESTICLES! Our very own! If you need to remember why they make us so happy read our story about them here: http://bojthenewf.blogspot.com/2013/01/are-stars-really-big-and-bright.html

Also, you should never wonder why tow hitch testicles would make someone happy. Ok? They just do).

For those of you who are thinking about showing. GO FOR IT! You might just find that you like it…and *GASP!*, you just might even be good at it, and guess what? You get to bring the best dog home. Every time.

Settled down for a long winters nap. . .

2013-03-12T22:42:00.000-06:00

zzzzz. . .zzzzzz. . .zzzzz

Don't think all we're doing this winter is just taking a long winters nap. . .sure you haven't heard from us in a while, but that's just because when we aren't napping, we're playing in the snow.

Ha ha! Ha haha! Look at Riggs! He's LAUGHING! He's actually laughing! Um. Oh wait, is he laughing at me? He better not be laughing at me...

Anyway, the truth is when we're not out playing in the snow, Riggs and my mom are off gallivanting somewhere playing dancing with the stars in a ring somewhere...I mean really, how BORING! I think I'm going to get him a Tutu for his next show. Don't you think he'd look good in one?

Sigh...is it water season yet?

Step one of learning how to jump of a boat. . .Own a human who is crazy.

2013-02-02T18:53:00.000-07:00

Hullo friends.

With all that jibber jabber about my trip down to Texas and those amazing photos of me jumping off a boat, I thought it was important to show you my very first jump ever. Caught on tape! Also, it was around 60 degrees here in Colorado today and I'm really starting to get the water training bug in my system again. It's like I'm getting delirium tremors just thinking of it. Sigh, just a few more months to go. . .

Remember how I told you how very hard the Momma and I were working on this feat? We worked on it FOR MONTHS! The reason why it became so scary for me, was because the first time we tried it, I jumped without hesitation, but I went ALL the way underwater and I got so scared you guys. I saw fish, and my mommas toes, and sunken treasures (there was a toilet bowl under there! A toilet bowl! I guess when some humans gotta go, they gotta go) when I was under water. It was just a few seconds but it felt like hours and it really really scared me. I'm a really good swimmer, but nothing prepares you for that, especially without a scuba certification. So, we had to go back to square one. The Momma realized that she did a few things wrong in getting me to jump that first time, first of all, she didn't have a life jacket on me which would've prevented me from sinking like that until I got really comfortable with jumping (which totally happened you guys!). It's also super duper scary when you jump and you can't see the bottom of what you're jumping into. My mom and I did a lot of thinking outside the box to get to my true fear, and what would really motivate me to jump again and not be so scared. After baby step after baby step, I did it! There is nothing more motivating than jumping for my Momma in the water holding a tennis ball AND a FULL JAR of peanut butter! You laugh, but it totally worked! Incentive is everything people. And so, I present to you, MY FIRST JUMP FOR A PEANUT BUTTER JAR! This occurred around July 2012, just a few weeks later I was jumping really well on my own like a pro and went on to earn my water rescue dog title. Never ever give up dogs! And always remember there's more than one way to skin a cat (I said that on purpose because we have a cat, and sometimes he thinks I'd like to skin him but really I just want to give him a kiss, and maybe play hide and seek or something). Don't I have the very best water training group who is always there to cheer me on and encourage me, and put up with my momma's crazy ideas?

HA HA! HA HA HA! Jokes on YOU! OR that lady who feeds and bathes me. . .

2013-01-29T13:53:00.003-07:00

Bwah ha ha ha ha! I can't stop laughing! I have to tell you guys the best secret ever (and no, it's not the fact that I have two adorable freckles on my tongue)! Every time my mom gives me a bath I do something to get her back! I HAVE DIARRHEA! Like within 3 days of my bath. Every time! I do it on purpose, and I think she's on to me...but I don't care. It serves her right. All over my hairy arse! She gets SO frustrated and I looooooove it! Don't tell her, OK?

Are the stars at night REALLY big and bright?

2013-01-10T18:20:00.000-07:00

Oh, hi friends. I'm really sorry it's been a while since we've spoken. You see, I've been suffering a bit from PTSD, post traumatic stress disorder. Well, that's what you people like to to call it. In reality, it should be called PTTD, post traumatic Texas disorder. What? Never heard of it? Well, quite obviously you haven't traveled on the back roads of Oklahoma and Texas at any point in your lifetime. Specifically, with someone like my momma at the helm. I don't normally use profanities, but it was absofracking horrifying. NO, I'm serious. It was. For the majority of our journey, I was totally cool, calm and collected as usual, but once the Mamma started acting like a total nut ball, I started to loose my shitskis a little.

She never, ever gets freaked out. Ev-Er. OK, ONCE she did. Just once. When we were in Canada and this man showed up to a picnic wearing just overalls and nothing underneath. Kind of like Popcorn Sutton from the show Moonshiners, except scarier because he wasn't wearing a shirt. . .or. anything. at all. underneath.

OK, so picture this dude. . .virtually naked:

I know, I know, totally frightening. My mom had a total flight or flight response moment and she took me, ran to her truck, opened the back hatch and told me to get in with her, and we both lied there, in the fetal position for like a good half an hour before someone came and got her out of her funk. Anyway, I digress...PS: I wish I had a chance to meet Popcorn Sutton because he seems totally kick ass, and I'd like to try his moonshine, but I feel like he'd probably have a lot of ticks all over him from hiding out in the woods from the police making moonshine all his life. Don't you?

Ok, so back to my P.T.T.S (Post traumatic Texas disorder- for those of you with short term memory loss). My mom and I had never been to Texas, or Oklahoma for that matter. But we had planned this trip because remember how I told you back when I earned my draft title that I was working so extra hard learning how to dive off boats to earn my Water Rescue Title this year? Well, I was. Really, really really hard. The only person who I could ever imagine working harder was Greg Louganis, that Olympic diver who smashed his head on the diving board during the Olympics a long time ago. My mom and I were out in the water almost every day because I was so super scared to dive. She tried everything, and we went to millions of different places. Then, all of the sudden, I did it. It was like the coolest thing ever, and my mom was so happy when I did it that I kept doing it. I became awesome at it, and then we both realized that I was ready to OWN the next water test. So, she entered me in the water rescue test that was taking place in Texas. It was a few weeks away and she thought we'd be ready to kick butt and take names down there, but guess what guys? I was doing so incredibly awesome, that at the very last minute on the very last day she entered me in an earlier test in Colorado. And guess freaking what guys? I PASSED! My first WRD (Water Rescue Dog) test ever and I acted like I was a commercial for WRD dogs. FLA FLA FLA FLAWLESS! We have really awesome photos from this test, thanks to our friend Katherine Payne but here's our very favorite. It was the very last thing that I had to do to pass, and look how happy the Momma is, you would jump every time too, if you had someone like that so happy when you got there:

Oh my dog, I digressed again, didn't I? Well, PTTD will do that to a dog. So, I earned my WRD title, and we were so excited. But, we had already entered in the test in Texas, and we were meeting so many friends there, and we thought it would be a great opportunity to relax, have some fun, and re-qualify. Besides, they serve margaritas the night before at a party before the test, and the momma kind of has a thing for margaritas, so she really didn't want to miss it. So, we went. . .

We left at 3am. Let me just tell you people, if you ever have to drive anywhere where it's incredibly flat, and there are a lot of wind turbines, the very best time to drive through it is at night. So we drove, and proceeded to drive until there were no bars for cell phone service on the phone, and the music on the radio became staticky, and all that we could listen to, was an old school Spanish radio station driving on a two lane highway, where there were hundreds of miles before seeing the next gas station, where a slight glimmer on the phone would show a bar or two of service. The mamma began to freak the F out. She began to have visions of a tire blowing and things like this happening to us:

Large Marge from Pee Wee's Big Adventure

"On this very night, ten years ago, along this very stretch of road in a dense fog just like this. I saw the worst accident I ever seen. There was this sound, like a garbage truck dropped off the Empire State Building... And when they pulled the driver's body from the twisted, burning wreck. It looked like this... "

And so, every time we'd get cell service, which meant we were near a gas station, she'd pull over, get gas, pay with a credit card so as to leave a paper trail of her whereabouts in case she went missing, phone a friend, and update her status on facebook. OK, so. . .we kind of watch a lot of 20/20 episodes and we've SEEN way too many instances where people go missing and get killed because their cars break down out in the middle of nowhere. So she started getting freaking paranoid. The very best way I can describe her paranoia to you, is to simply go back and post all of her status updates that she wrote on facebook during our drive:

Exhibit A:

"Driving through the back roads of the state of Texas without cell service over the last 10hrs because the bastard in my GPS wants to make me more "cultured" has been mildly terrifying. I've replayed the quickest technique on how to change a tire if the need arises over and over again in my head. It's times like these, when I can't help but think how much safer I'd feel if I just had one of those hanging testicle sacks hanging off the trailer hitch of my car. Like a testicular force field. Those, and probably a shot gun. But as the sign I just drove past says, "Jesus didn't tap out" so I'll continue to persevere. Blaring mariachi music as it's the only station that comes in clearly. Don't mess with me Texas! I've got a big black dog in my car who used to have testicles! Once."

Oh my dog, I'm sorry, but seriously. Look at this guy. In my quest to find the best example of truck hitch testicles, this came up. I had to share this asshat with all of you:

Anywho, we continued our drive. Wait. Wait a minute. Holy F. Do you see that guys freakishly LARGE abnormally shaped thumbs?! What the frack?! And what the hell is the two thumbs up for anyway? "HEY EVERYONE! LOOK AT ME! TWO THUMBS UP FOR PRETENDING THAT I HAVE ELEPHANTITIS ALBINO TESTICLES! AND AS A BONUS! IF YOU GIVE ME A NEWSPAPER TO HOLD IN MY HANDS, IT LOOKS LIKE I'M TAKING A POOPER!" weird. People are freaking weird.

I'm sorry, but I couldn't continue to type my story to you and just pretend that guys thumbs were totally normal. . . As I was saying, we continued our journey as we dined on the best damned beef jerky in Texas. *(editors note: when a sign that you drive past says, "Not just beef jerky, DANG GOOD beef jerky. You stop, OK ,you ALWAYS stop)* The momma said we needed to load up on protein in case we had to survive a break down miles away from where anyone could find us. I think the beef jerky actually had some magical powers in it, because she began to embrace our situation. Much like a dying person accepts their impeding death. Her next status update went something like this:

"With the exception of the road dotted with gutted out, stiffed limbed deer carcasses and signs for a cemetery every 30 miles, Texas isn't as scary the further south you drive."

And she was right. All of the sudden, the radio stations came back and the cell phone service returned, and then we arrived at our destination! I was so relieved that we finally made it that I wanted to leap out of the back of the car and kiss the ground as soon as she put the car in park.

But first, she had to do this to me.

Don't mess with Texas, bitches. This is how I made my grand entrance into the test site. This totally could've gone either way for me. I mean, I was visiting Texans. It's not like I was going to New Jersey and pretending to be from Texas or something.

Thankfully, my friends in Texas have an incredible sense of humor.

There's a new sheriff in town. Boss Freaking Hog, Y'all!

The only thing that would've made this photo even better, is a pair of trailer hitch truck testicles behind me. We'll work on that for next year.

The water test weekend was SO much fun! We had such a good time with our Texas friends, besides the fact that we had arrived in Antarctica, with temps in the 40s and a windchill and high winds. It was FREEZING. I of course loved it, but the Momma volunteered to help out during the test stewarding from the boat in the water, and she wore her winter hat the entire time. Even when WE were testing! IT was hilarious! I was like, Ummm, Mamma, guess what? You look ridiculous in that hat and if you're going to look so ridiculous and not take this seriously than neither will I! So, we had a lot fun but did not come home with any re-qualifying scores. But we did come home with a LOT of new friends, and that's even better.

Our friends Mike from Texas, and Leah took a lot of these photos of us. We love Leah of Lizzy Layne Photography! http://www.lizzylaynephotography.com/

And this photo, of the Momma and I watching the sunrise together, this my friends is what owning humans is all about.

The story of Thanksgiving, reenacted.

2012-11-20T10:31:00.000-07:00

With the day of Thanksgiving upon us, it's important to remember why we celebrate such a delicious holiday.

My People, the following is the story of Thanksgiving. Brought to you by my little brother Rigsby, and me, Bojie (the great).

*editors note, I am so proud of the boys, I totally gave them artistic freedom to tell their story with no script and their improv was amazing, also, I made these costumes so I deserve props too*

*AHEM* One day Chief Bojie stumbled upon a very lethargic Pilgrim named Rigsby. Bojie said, "HAU! I come in peace. Why are you so weak my little Pilgrim?"

Pilgrim Rigsby explained, "We have no seeds, and no crops to eat, we're starving!" Chief Bojie said, "No fear little Pilgrim, I will share my seeds and my knowledge with you, and help you cultivate your crops". This was a very serious discussion. Very. Serious. . .

Along with the crops they planted, the Pilgrim and the Chiefs friendship bloomed...

And now little pilgrim, it is important to thank the earth for all of our blessings. Let us pray.

Oh, Chief! I must invite you to eat with me after all you've taught me and how much you've helped my family...Please join me as we break kibble.

And the chief did. Theirs is a friendship that has carried the meaning of Thanksgiving in our hearts forever.

"Give thanks for unknown blessings already on their way."

Native American saying

Happy Thanksgiving to all of our friends throughout the world! We are thankful for your friendship and love!

Uh, um, you see, this improv stuff is exhausting...Got Turkey? No, I mean it. Can you spare a leg or something?

It's Five O'Clock Somewhere. . .

2012-10-12T13:12:00.000-06:00

"Wonderful day to lay out after the horrid winter we've had, isn't it dear? Please tell Olga I'll be ready for my deep tissue massage at noon, after I finish my martini. And fetch me that special oil I like. You know, the one with the lavender. . .

. . .Oh! And Dear! Please tell Andrew to stop putting those little umbrellas in my drink. For goodness sake, I am no longer a child. . ."

A day in the life of Bojie the Newfoundland

I am your Yoda

2012-10-11T16:45:00.001-06:00

OK, people. Before I tell you all of my most recent adventures, it's important to fill you in on a really important story first. Sometimes, I have to take things down a few notches and be serious. Besides the fact that I like talking about myself, it's also really important for me to include this story in my blog, because A LOT of fellow dogs and their people have to go through this, and sometimes, every so often, this blog can be educational! Can you believe it! I can be your YODA!

So my students, let me take this opportunity to tell you that not only am I awesome. I am a super hero. I think that after you hear this story, you will appreciate my successes even more. You all know about the emergency surgery that saved my life from an obstruction, because you faithfully read my blog and would never miss a post. RIGHT?! You can brush up on that story *Here* just in case you repressed it because it was so scary for you.

Now, I need to tell you another family secret. Besides the fact that I am magical like a unicorn because I have opposable thumbs and can type on a computer, I am also bionic. For. Real. Like, if I walked through one of those metal detectors at an airport, it would totally go off. And they'd check my fur, and check my collar, and everyone would probably think I "was packing" (I love using that phrase, because sometimes I like to listen to rap) because I've been known to wear cowboy hats and bandanas (that was a little sneaky line I added to give you a hint of a story coming soon- put it in your memory bank). BUT! The truth is, the metal is INSIDE of me.

You see, about 6 months after my emergency surgery for an obstruction, I was practicing pulling my cart one day getting ready to take the draft test and all of the sudden SNAP! I felt like something was very wrong in my back leg. Like what happens to all those middle aged men, who think they're still as bad ass as they were in high school, and decide to join a men's basketball league or lacrosse league and they go out all crazy like they are 20 yrs old again. You know what I'm talking about. The men that start sweating as soon as they get out of their car, they've got new shiny sneakers which totally give away the fact that they are so out of shape, but they still consider themselves to be uber athletes because they played in college. They think they look like this:

But really they look like this:

and then they do one quick sprint as soon as they get on the court or the field and tear their ACL. But they go home and tell their wives the injury happened during a "really hard hit" or "a dunk" when really, all they did was take their first jog in like 15yrs? Yeah, that's how I felt.

But I digress. . .The next thing that I knew, I was totally lame on my back left leg. My mom did her silent freak out thing that she does when she's all worried about me and she called the vet. I was thoroughly examined, had some xrays and had a positive drawer test on my exam which proved that I had ruptured my CCL (cranial cruciate ligament- you see, unlike the middle aged fat hairy bald guys who get hurt and tear their ACL's we dogs have CCL's. Same type of injury slightly different location in the knee). Two days later, I was in an operating room having TPLO surgery (I was going to go all into detail about what this is, but the truth is if you have found my blog that means that you are that adept at using the internet, you can totally find out all of that information on your own, plus then my blog gets really serious, and sad, and overkill boring)

. . .But get this guys. My mom was IN THE OPERATING ROOM WITH ME. She was there for the ENTIRE thing! I was never alone! Even when I woke up! There she was! She is the coolest mom EVAH! Also, I think she is every veterinarians nightmare. But, I still think she's cool when she's not acting all crazy, so whatev's you veterinarians. Think what you will.

MY surgeon was equally as cool as my mom, because he invited her in to watch. Also he's awesome. Also, my mom ends up getting a crush on ANYONE who takes care of me when I'm super sick or injured. No matter what they look like because to her, they all just look like super man even if they probably just look like one of those middle aged men about to tear a muscle or break a bone on the basketball court.

Here is a photo chronicle that my mom took of my time in the hospital. At the very end, There are some super cool videos of my recovery. You better watch them. Remember, I am a super hero now, so I will be able to tell if you don't watch them (I'm like freaking Santa Claus. You're on my list!) They make reading through all of this blog post worth it. I got to swim in an indoor pool AND walk on an underwater treadmill. Seriously, I doubt any of those hairy mens wives take them to indoor pools and underwater treadmills after they have their surgeries. It was like I had arrived at Newf Disney Land. I also got a bully stick after EVERY session. Trust me, there is nothing NOTHING like bulls penis after a hard work out (that's what a bully stick is- I'm not being derogatory. LOOK IT UP PEOPLE! You're on the internet! FORGET JARED! NOTHING SAYS I LOVE YOU LIKE SOME TASTY BULLS PENIS!)

In the anesthesia recovery unit:

In the CCU:

Going home:

Rigsby snuck into my crate to give me kisses when my mom went to get me fresh water. Sometimes, he can be pretty cute.

meniscus tear and repair

Pre TPLO and Post TPLO Xrays

These are the videos I told you about. . .Remember, Santa's watching. Push play!

2012-10-09T21:15:00.000-06:00

Uh, um, hullo. I noticed that I have 4000 hits on my blog, and I just wanted to inform you, my people, that I have not forgotten about you, or this blog. I have just been really, really, really busy at being awesome. NO! I mean it. I really have. Wait until you hear about all of the things I've been doing. Being awesome means that I have A LOT of material for new blog posts coming up. I don't even want to give anything away because my stories are pretty entertaining, but please stay tuned! I have been out "on tour" as my momma likes to call it, surveying my land and meeting new friends and doing lots of working events and even my baby brother Rigsby has been busy! Seriously, minus like 100lbs, and my mom is like the pageant mom in that show*"Here comes Honey Boo Boo". * That would kind of make me like Honey boo boo, but I'm a lot cuter. Also, I know a lot more tricks.

LOTS of stories coming soon! Promise! I just had to wait until I got off tour to get home to use my opposable thumbs. Yes, I am magical. Like a unicorn. Only more like a bear with opposable thumbs. It's kind of a family secret. But, now you know. OK!? I HAVE OPPOSABLE THUMBS! THERE!

*Editors note: We have no affiliation with TLC or the show Honey Boo Boo, but for that plug, we do think we deserve a crack at our own little show...we guarantee it would be a chart buster. So, dudes at TLC...Call me? Maybe?

2012-08-10T20:53:00.002-06:00

*Ahem* I have an important announcement to make about my awesomeness. I PASSED MY DRAFT TEST! I haven't posted in so long because I've been basking in the glory of it all. I am now BeeCreek's Allan's Angel CGC, TDI, RN, WD1, BN, DD! I am hard at work this summer practicing my boat jumps so that I can earn my Water Rescue Dog title. Draft work is fun, but it isn't nearly as fun as rescuing people! No body is screaming, flailing, needing my help desperate for my manliness to come save them (well except my momma of course, she's slightly embarrassing when she cheers for me and gets excited at these things). I can say that now since I am officially a draft dog. Stay tuned! I get more and more awesome every few months!

Here's a video of me on the maneuvering course

2012-08-10T20:37:00.001-06:00

"Whoa. Easy there. . . Yeah, I DID have a nice time too, but I have work in the morning and reaaaally need to hit the hay."
As you walk away thinking "He looked nothing like his Match.com photo"

Bojie: Life in the E.R.

2012-04-20T23:30:00.001-06:00

Well my friends, in honor of being really close to getting almost 3000 hits on my blog from people from all over the world (Shout out to the Ukraine and the Netherlands! Fist pump to my peeps in the Philippines! Hej! to my fans in Sweden!), I decided it was time to take it down a notch. Yes, yes, I know, I'm known for my amazing sense of humor and larger than life personality but every once in a while something serious happens. I've finally gotten a handle on my Post Traumatic Stress disorder and I can now share the worst thing that has ever happened to me with the world. It's taken a long time to get to this point people, but I'm ready to share. My therapist tells me it's cathartic.

OK, here it is. Bottom line. I did something horrible. BUT I COULDN'T HELP IT! And I swear! It was before you knew me!

It all started one morning when my mom was running late for work back in July 2009. But I didn't realize what a bad decision I made until I suffered the repercussions of it all a FULL YEAR LATER. I thought I was scott free! Until it all came back to bite me in my hairy arse. . .

The momma was running super late for work one morning, and she did something that she NEVER does. She left the bathroom door open! Oh my dog! I couldn't believe what I was seeing! A whole new world to explore while she was gone! I had a feeling that there was something awfully delicious in that bathroom. Something wildly exotic and delectable (like that fresh salmon my brothers from another mother eat up in Canada, when they're out and aboot, eh? Holla to my Canadian fans! Love that maple leaf!) Why else would she keep that room such a secret for so long? It was probably stocked to the gills with salmon (pun definitely intended) So, I did what any dog as intelligent as I am would do. . .I raided the place. To be honest, the toilet paper left my mouth feeling a bit dry and I needed something to cleanse my palate. Enter the bath tub. . .

There were a lot of super cool things in this tub and I knew all about it because one time when I was really little, my mom was swimming in there and I decided I should join her and she didn't notice until she got the shampoo out of her eyes that I was at her feet! I loved it! So, naturally I felt that after an appetizer of toilet paper I should go for a swim myself to work up an appetite. Except that there was no water in there guys. How BORING! She only keeps her swimming pool full for herself to swim in!? I really like my momma, but I have to tell you, I think that's really selfish of her. It's an issue I'm still trying to overcome through therapy, but doesn't every dog have their momma issues? I tried to figure out how to fill the pool up for myself and instead of figuring out how the water comes out, I found something amazingly chewy. It was so chewy I could only imagine that there had to be some really delicious juices in it once I released the rainbow of fruit flavor by chewing it as much as I could. Well, nothing came out, so I simply swallowed it. Whole.

The momma came home from work and I have no idea why, but she really seemed displeased with my home decorating skills in the bathroom. She took a quick inventory, and realized I had eaten her newly placed plastic drain hair catcher.

And she freaked. Not the yelling freak out, but you know that panicky thing that moms do? For days after my toilet paper raid, she kept sifting through my poop like a psychiatric patient. She even wore a headlamp at night so that she could see it better, but she never found anything. I tried to act totally normal, like nothing happened. She seemed pretty cool with me, and I was sure she wasn't upset with me anymore because a few days later she dropped me off at my most favorite place that I get to stay at when she goes on vacation. I remember that my friend who takes care of me followed me every time I pooped and looked through it just like my mom did. How embarrassing! Can't a man poop in peace? I mean, I know some dogs that need to bring the paper with them when they poop! But she didn't find anything, and my mom came home from her vacation and I remember overhearing her telling someone that "I must have passed it without anyone seeing it" because I was acting totally normal.

Here's where the scary part starts. . .

Fast forward to A YEAR LATER. July 2010. The momma and I move from New Jersey to Colorado, and we've only been there for about 3 weeks, and I start to feel really super sick. I was pretty sure that I had that pig flu thing that everyone was talking about. I mean, I thought I was dying. I kept trying to throw up because I felt so nauseous and nothing would come out but bile. I did this off and on for a few days until I felt so sick, that I stopped eating. I became very lethargic, I didn't want any water, and I just kept trying to throw up that pig.

One night, I was the most sick I've ever been and my mom was so scared that she was crying, she stuck that horrible cold thermometer up my you know what, and people, I don't know how she did it but she carried me into the car in the middle of the night because I was so weak that I could barely walk. She kept crying the whole way to the emergency room asking me to please be OK. And I was trying really hard to be strong for her. My mom and I were both really scared because we didn't know any emergency veterinarians out in Colorado, and we had made really good friends with a lot of doctors back in NJ, so all of these strangers kind of freaked her out. They poked me and pushed on my belly and took black and white pictures of my insides with x-ray machines and hooked me up to all these bags of water and told my mom they'd call her with any news, but that the outlook was grim. A couple of hours later, I heard the doctor on the phone with my mom telling her that they had to operate on me, and that she should come in right away. I was so tired guys, I wasn't even scared. The last thing I remember is my mom crawling into the kennel run that I was in hugging me and crying and begging the doctors to do a good job, and I could tell she was trying to act brave for me, but it wasn't working. I know that she was freaked the heck out.

And then. . .I woke up. The momma was in the kennel run with me again, and we were both lying on the sheepskin, and as soon as I saw her, I gave her the biggest lick that I could with my super dry crinkly tongue because I was so happy that I felt so well. I didn't feel that pig in my stomach anymore so I know that I got rid of that pig flu.

As soon as the momma pulled herself together she went out to talk to the doctor that we both had a crush on since he saved my life (HEY! I'm neutered! I'm an equal opportunity lover! Don't judge until you've had your own testicles taken out!). I saw him show her what they took out of my intestines. He used the word "obstruction" and then said after he removed the object that he performed the "gastropexy" that my mom asked him to do. We were all looking at the the object that my mom was holding in her hand, trying to figure out what the heck it was and then she screamed "HOLY Shiitake mushrooms!(the words she used were really bad, but I don't like mushrooms, so that's the worst word I thought that I could type out for my viewing audience)" when we figured it out. It was almost unrecognizable because it was bouncing around in my stomach for a year until my gastric acid hardened it up enough so that it could start to move down to my intestines. It wasn't the pig I thought it was at all guys. It was the FREAKING chewy plastic drain hair catcher! I thought that I did the crime and served my time, but it came back to get me!

This is what it looked like ONE YEAR LATER: It was 6 inches! Wedged in my intestines!

If you look really closely at the outline of it in this photo, you can see how my mom finally figured out what it was, see the outline of the stupid little suction bubbles around the outside of it? (sorry, my mom and I kind of hate it now, especially since she calls it an impulse buy...she was never good at waiting in lines to pay for stuff at the cash register):

A few days later I was home, and I didn't even care that I had staples running down my belly from my chest to my groin. I felt SO GOOD! Sure, I looked like a show poodle because of the way they shaved me at the hospital to put all of those tubes in me, but I felt more like a Newfoundland dog now than I had in a very long time. Poodle cut or not.

I had a brush with death my friends, and now I live each day as though it could be my last. A few months later I earned my water dog rescue title (WD) and I make sure I go visit sick people in the hospital every week who are as scared as I was when I was all alone in my hospital bed. I also get lots of treats and am spoiled rotten by my people and I love it. Oh, the momma also learned that she can't trust me around anything that might be delicious if she's not at home, and since she spent my college fund on my surgery, I now have to go to my bedroom (XXL crate) when she's not home. But I kind of like it in there because my baby brother can't steal my toys.

A very special thank you to all the doctors and techs who took such great care of me at

Alpenglow Veterinary Specialty + Emergency care center

*we now return to our regularly scheduled light hearted hilarious posts*

like this, since we're no longer singing the blues:

I. am. an Oracle.

2012-02-06T11:56:00.000-07:00

This was filmed prior to the Super Bowl game. Let the magic speak for itself my friends. Let it speak for itself. . .

and then, I beat the snot out of my little brother.

". . .'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. . ."

2011-09-13T20:57:00.000-06:00

People. I apologize for taking so long to write, but you see, extremely dramatic events have taken place since we last spoke. My Henrietta, my beloved, has left me. She was taken from me in a traumatic violent turn of events, and I can't even let my mind go to the place where she must have been when it all occurred. I know here in the states people are innocent until proven guilty, and I'm trying my best to be the good dog I am, but I will not rest until I find the killer. I have the top authorities investigating the case as we speak. Nothing is too good for my bumpy skinned love. It was as though she always had goose bumps for me when I walked into the room. I'll never forget the way my rough tongue felt against her large talons. Now, I am sworn under oath not to divulge too much of the investigation, but here are a few photos that have been released to the press. I'll let you be the jury. I already have my suspicions.

EXHIBIT A:
A photo of Henrietta's last surgery post op. They had to remove her trachea due to overuse, and while she was under anesthesia, they also performed liposuction. I told her that extra cushion just meant more to love, but she said it was something she needed to do to feel comfortable in her bikini again. We also embarked on a new journey, the amazing world of Sign language. Due to the fact that Henrietta never had hands, she became skilled at the art of ASL using her feet. The language of love is universal.

EXHIBIT B:
After walkies with the Momma, we returned home to one of Henrietta's Talons on the floor. Now, I know she was fighting gangrene for quite a while, but there was just something I didn't trust in Rigsby's eyes as we attempted to reattach it. The strands of hair are being sent to the lab for further investigation.

EXHIBIT C:
*Disclaimer- the following photos and information are for mature audiences only. What you are about to see may be graphic in nature and may not be suitable for all audiences. Viewer discretion is advised.*
The following photo's were taken by professional investigators in my home the day my beloved chick went to her final resting place

EXHIBIT D:
My brother, with one of Henrietta's most favorite attributes. He says he was just helping clean up the scene of the crime before I got home, but I think I see some drool coming out of his mouth. . .

EXHIBIT E:

EXHIBIT F:
Morgue shot. When I had to identify her remains.

EXHIBIT G:

EXHIBIT H:
It kills me to look at this. She was found right by the back door, as if she was trying to flee. I will not comment whether I think it's a coincidence that Rigsby is next to her chalk outline the police traced on the floor. . .My poor, sweet sticky buns.

She was a good chick. And a fighter. Her body failed her, but her soul clucks within me forever.

Hoarding: Buried Alive- "Rigsby"

2011-06-02T20:08:00.000-06:00

On the next episode of "Hoarding: Buried Alive" we meet Rigsby, who has an uncontrollable compulsion to accumulate and store excessive amounts of toys in his bed. His brother Bojie called us in for professional help, as it's made every day existence unbearable.

In a response to why he hoards, Rigsby comments "It's not a an object, it's a memory. Each and every toy holds a memory for me. Throwing them out would be a waste". As we walked around his home, we saw the hoarding only continued in every room of his house.
The bedroom:

"Ever since my mother rejected me as a baby, I've felt the need to hold on to things, I think this was the turning point for me, that made me begin to hoard" said Rigsby as we walked through what used to be his living room.

"If I see it, and I want it, I go and spend. I don't think of the consequences after the fact, I go in to buy one toy, and I come out with five."
Bojie's room is the only space in the home, where he can find respite from the accumulation of "stuff"

"I don't know how much longer I can take this Rigsby, it's embarrassing. I can't even have my friends over, because there's no place for us to sit. You need to confront the fact that you have a problem. Lets start with piles, of keep, throw out, and give away". Rigsby agreed, but after the job was over. The only pile that remained, was "keep".

"I can't even bear to talk to you anymore Rigsby. This obsession is out of control"

"I know I have a problem, it's overwhelming, most people would never know it from just looking at me if you met me on the street"
"WE CAN'T LIVE LIKE THIS ANYMORE! You NEED to start hearing what I'm telling you, really hear me. Not just listen anymore, hear what I'm saying, and MAKE A CHANGE! There's no room for me to even sleep here anymore! I'm better off sleeping in the car."

"Sometimes, I just feel like a homeless man, with a house."

__________________

Chewing the fat. . .

2011-06-01T21:04:00.000-06:00

My bestest friend Nanook and I are with each other through thick and thin. Literally. Nookens was fighting the battle of the buldge last year, and I was right by his side. He made a very inspirational video that you all should see if you haven't already. Actually two of them. (All of these videos are best viewed in large screen format on YouTube- to ensure you can read all the hilarious commentary). To mark his one year anniversary (approximate) of keeping his weight off and then some, this post is dedicated to him. No one wears a Landseer coat like my sweet Nookinator.

I just so happen to make a cameo appearance in this video of his.

After seeing this video, I had to do something to let him know how much I support him. I made this in response to his weight loss efforts, my blog isn't interested in posting my video in a version with my comments, so please click on the direct link below, so you can hear my thoughts on the matter (it will also enable you to see my big beautiful meathead up close and personal):

Direct Link- Click here for the direct link to YouTube

Keep up the good work Nooks! But always remember, I'll hump you no matter what you look like! Big licks, your buddy Bojie

Henrietta. Tough love. The life of an emotionally scarred chicken, and the Newfoundland who saved her.

2011-05-27T19:57:00.000-06:00

The following is an article written about Bojie from a very talented author *wink*:

Tough love beneficial? I think not. Living with Henrietta the chicken, shows the truth when it comes to matters of the heart.

When we first found Henrietta wondering in a countryside store in NJ, she seemed, broken, beaten, defeated. Through her eyes, Bojie and I saw straight to her soul, and we knew we needed to save her. She didn't speak much, or at all for that matter, when we asked her how she ended up in NJ after living the life of retirement in Fort Lauderdale, FL. Whatever it was, had hurt her deeply, to her core, and was too humiliating to divulge. We knew, after doing some research, a bit of her history: Raised on a quaint little chicken farm in America's heartland, Henrietta showed a flair for performing at an early age. As an adult, she moved to Las Vegas with dreams of fame and fortune. She quickly took the town by storm and was cast as a genuine Vegas Showgirl. During her twenty year career shes danced in numerous shows and even headlined the infamous burlesque show Wild Chicken. Unwillingly, due to body restraints, and gravity taking over, she retired, and Henrietta lived a quiet life, far from the Vegas footlights, in a swanky trailer park near Fort Lauderdale.

We immediately showered her with unconditional love. Bojie would not allow her to get to far without caressing her with his rough tongue. While doing so, he repeated over and over to her, that she is too good of a chicken to live that kind of life.

Oh, don't get me wrong, Henrietta wasn't that kind of girl...I'll never forget the wincing shrill of her screams she makes if Bojie squeezes her too hard, they mimicked those she made after she found out that Bojie had spent Christmas with another woman. A turtle no less. They'll forever ring in my ears. Sure he's "slipped" in the past, but it was a Christmas party, and someone spiked the kibble, all that he knows of that night was captured in this photo, in his right mind he'd never sway:

It's not that he ever meant to hurt her, it's just that he loves her that much. The two became inseparable, and their friendship soon blossomed into a great love affair. At first, it was difficult for me to accept, but he's my son, and she makes him happy, so I've supported them as much as I can, and always make sure that she's included in our plans. She's come on trips with us all over the country, and to be honest, she's really grown on me. She's also grown emotionally. By leaps and bounds. From an emotionally scarred chicken, to a hen of entitlement, one of sass. She'd totally look people straight in the eye, if she still had hers...which, leads me to the point of my story....

Henrietta felt that she had to keep improving her looks for Bojie. As he was growing into a more handsome, debonair dog, her body began failing her. All the love he was showing her, really took its toll, and she felt no other option than to enter the tainted world of plastic surgery.
Exhibit A: The difference 3 years can make:

In her three years here, Henrietta has received, a brow lift, a combectomy, multiple beak injections which resulted in a beakectomy, a wattleectomy, and thryoidectomy. These multiple surgeries, resulted in a complete decapitation, which I had to perform on an emergent basis at home. Thank God for my medical background. I've managed to save her voice box, and her large talons are still intact. I know she has plans for other augmentations in the future. Bojie and I have been working desperately to stop this obsession before it's too late.

When I attempted to interview Bojie on his opinion of Henriettas obsession which has rapidly turned into her demise, he just turned, looked away, and said, "I love my chick unconditionally. As for my stand on plastic surgery, no comment."

Here's RIGSBY!

2011-05-03T16:56:00.000-06:00

Guys, I don't know what the heck has happened to the mamma, but she's flipped her lid. First, she gets me a papa. I thought that was cool, until I had to leave all my friends and my most favorite Landseer humping butt in NJ, and move across country! I finally settled in, fell in love with my Papa (my momma thinks I love him more than I love her), learned how to rescue people from drowning, learned how to woof the word Colorado, love the weather, but they put me in the car again, and I thought we were going back to NJ judging by how far we were driving. We pulled into a driveway where I started smelling all these familiar smells, but I couldn't remember how I knew them. And, then! I was so happy! I got to see my fairy Grandmother! She was the best Grandmother ever! She fed me, and gave me water, and baths, and loved me so much, and I remember she told me I'd see her again soon when she gave me to my Mamma, but I didn't realize this was the day! Everything was going so great, but guys, we ended up coming home with this, he's something they're calling "my little brother" I don't even care if I get punished for giving my mom the finger so many times on the ride home. They deserve it. Introducing Bee Creeks State of the Union, "Rigsby":
I'm really not thrilled. But my mom told me to "sit and stay" pfff!

The kid started to growing on me, as we started to drive...and I've got to give him credit, he respected his elder, he earned his right to be close to me.

Then he felt like it was OK to let me know I had something hanging out of my mouth, this tiny little voice said, "Excuse me sir? I hate to bother you, but you've got something hanging from your lip"...we're not there yet kid. Hasn't anyone ever seen a flogger before!?

When I said he was growing on me. I meant it literally:

This is me, performing mental telepathy. I'm telling my mom how AWESOME and tolerant I'm being so that I can move her hand to the treat bag for a well deserved cookie

Someday, that pillows going to be too small for him. He doesn't even know it! Enjoy your flat Stanley days while you got em kid! Before you know it you won't be able to fit under the table!

Me and Rigsby. By the way, we're full cousins even though we're legally brothers. Good looks run in the family.

Family Portrait

Riggs and MY papa. They're madly in love. It makes me want to toss my kibble.

Rigsby's first sunrise (after we spent the night in a rest stop and EVERYONE had to come into the back to sleep with ME! on MY bed (I'm a little grumpy about it)

And people. It's not just me I'm worried about...this does not bode well for the dogs of war:

I have to admit. His belly is really cute. Obligatory puppy belly shot:

Do Newfoundland dogs shed?

2011-04-12T20:10:00.000-06:00

Do Newfoundlands shed?

No. Absolutely not. I have no idea what you're talking about.

In chronological order- the birth of our dear friend, Harry.

March 2008
Please give a warm welcome to my spawn, we call him Harry, he's great, really quiet, and goes wherever I go. . .:
(*disclaimer: Harry, what we affectionately refer to my undercoat as, was obtained here within 30 minutes of brushing, no shears were used in the making of Harry. He found his new home, in the safety of the woods in our backyard, which hopefully turned into a birds nest...Here I am in this photo behind him, refusing to look at the camera, Harry front bottom right WARNING: Harry is much larger than he appears-there was more of him scattered inside the house:

September 2008. Harry returns! After a long summer apart, Harry stops by for a visit. He must've been exercising over the last 6 months, he looks much more defined than his last visit:

Here I am, spring of 2009. I was two years old here and my good friend Harry came back for a visit. With his entire family! Harry was one busy boy since we saw him last.

Which brings us to the present day. April 2011. Harry found us you guys, all the way in Colorado. However, it appears he's gone back up to the buffet line one to many times. . .he's freaking humongous.

I love having a new yard. . .

2011-04-07T23:09:00.000-06:00

All the Momma could talk about was how important it was that I have a yard in my new home, and how I'd LOVE it so very much. Well, let me tell you something people. I didn't. And, I don't. My momma has walked with me since I was a tiny baby on an umbilical cord from the day she picked me up at my fairy Grandmothers house in Illinois. Why, on earth would she think I'd break out into the "Lord of the dance"*(click here to see what I'm talking about)* at the sight of my very own yard? I don't like being out there without her for a lot of reasons. Mostly because I'm pretty sure she's eating something especially delicious when I'm outside and she's inside, and I would like a bite, if that's what she's doing. Also, because she really is great company. Who wants to lay in the grass all by themselves? That's no fun! She plays with me, and pets me, and makes up amazing songs about me, and dances for me. Also, I get TONS of attention when we walk on my umbilical cord. People love me! And I love to be loved! There are no adoring fans in my back yard. Just weird looking furry things that chomp on acorns who aren't even fun to chase. Nuts!?! They don't even have good taste in food! I prefer deer, and bunnies, and very small dogs. Anyway, I get to my new house, and my people start making a HUGE scene about my back yard to me. It was ridiculous. But, I got the last laugh. I always do.

*I'm certain you know what Lord of the Dance is- since I as a dog do, but that dude has crazy feet, and we can all use a second look once in a while.*

Movin on up!

2011-03-29T10:15:00.000-06:00

I had tons of friends in NJ, some even lived right next door. I was living a great life. But then one day, my mom hung this sign around my neck, and I was sitting next to a UHaul, and then driving across the country.

The drive wasn't bad. I got to sleep for about 30 hours, which was great, and I had more room in the car than my humans did! If I had to do it again, the only thing I'd do differently is make sure we drove through Nebraska at night.

Then finally I smelled the most delicious thing ever! We got out of the car, and my nostrils were flaring trying to take in the scent! Buffalo! Colorado is filled with Buffalo! My most favorite kind of bone to gnaw on! In fact in the photo above, you can see a piece of one of my bones next to me. Nom Nom NOM!

In the photo above, there are real live buffalo right next to me! I was really practicing a lot of self restraint here, I'm trained really well, so it wasn't too hard. BUT STILL! Mmmmm! Buffalo! Colorado is fantastic! There are mountains, and elk, and BUFFALO everywhere! And SNOW! My favorite! Anytime I want, I can play in it.

Things were going just fine, until. . .Rigsby came along. But more on that later. First, more about ME!

A lot about ME!

2011-03-29T08:46:00.000-06:00

I don't want to back peddle to much, but a few extra posts to get us started is what I'll have to do in order to make you love us. The truth is, this blog is way overdue. What is most important for you all to know, is that I was first. Also, I'm the best. Rigsby only came a long a few months ago. But it's only because I am so perfect, they wanted to replicate me. Let me fill you guys in on something, I'm one of a kind. Sure he's my brother, and technically officially my real cousin. But you know what? My grandpa liked me better. SO! Without further ado, a little about me! Bojie!

Photo courtesy of Sandra Nicholson

I lived in NJ since I was 10 weeks old, before moving out West, and I really liked it. I'm a true Yankee at heart.

The momma and I worked really hard on a lot of important things while we lived there. I became a certified therapy dog, and we would visit people who needed me most a few times a week. I got really used to visiting hospitals, nursing homes, and schools for children with special needs. I loved walking into one of my special places that I visited and having people waiting to see me, and asking for me. After giving licks out to my usual friends, sometimes I could pick out someone who needed me most, and I would go and sit by them. I'd listen really hard to their hearts, and I'd choose the very loneliest and scared. The momma sometimes didn't know how I knew so well, but we Newfs are special, and I knew where I was needed most. I just so happen to be the perfect height to visit bed bound patients. Some of my poor friends never got ANY visitors but ME! Can you believe that?! It really made me sad. So, I'd stay extra long and make sure I stretched my neck as far as I could so that their hands could reach my head to feel my fur, and allow me to lick their hands and give them their first kisses that they had in years.

We also did a lot of fun obedience stuff in NJ, that added letters after my name and got me something called titles, but to me being a therapy dog is my most important job.

One of the hardest things about leaving NJ, was leaving my very best friend. His name is Nanook and I love him. No, I'm serious guys. I loooove him. Normally I'm a very laid back goofy Newf, but the momma says when I hang around Nanook, I begin to look like Jack Nicholson in the movie the Shining, when he has his, "here's Johnny" face on. Whatever that means.

Nooks is just a few inches away from me in this photo.

see the resemblance?

Nookens also has a brother named Pooka, who I really didn't like too much at first because I thought he was taking my beloved Nookinator away from me, but you know what? He's kind of like a brother to me now too. You'll probably hear a lot about these guys, so I figured I should introduce them early on.

Pooka, Bojie, and Nanook

If you really want to know what my life has been like, here's a sneak peek:

I had a really great life back in New Jersey, but then all of the sudden my mom told me we were moving and a lot changed, Rigsby will probably want to butt in here a few times, but I'm going to do my best to keep control over this blog. Besides, at 7 months old, I'm not even sure he knows how to spell yet. Anyway, there's a lot more you need to know before he came into the picture.