Kibble Hockey

Kibble hockey is by far the greatest game invented by myself and That Guy. The rules are simple: he shoots a piece of dog kibble across the kitchen floor. I must demonstrate my hunting prowess by stopping the kibble before it goes underneath the kitchen table or by finding it if That Guy does something tricky like shoot the Kibbble on to the carpet (which is officially offsides).

So the game goes like this. First That Guy says: Let's Do It!

So I get ready. Damn, I look good, don't I?


I watch the line-up, counting the number of Kibble that I must find and retrieve.


Then, he starts shooting them, and I chase, hoping that I can stop the Kibbles faster than he can skitter them across the kitchen floor.

If I am attentive, I can stop them right after the initial shot.


And when I am really good, I stop the Kibble before it barely leaves the starting gate!

Kibble hockey is a sport that I recommend for all ages, but particularly for Shibas who are not allowed to run free chasing squirrels, but are rather confined to hunting the food in the walls of the household.


I Am Shiba. I Never Turn Down the Opportunity to Chase.

The Things That They Carry

Note: This was a submission for a Literature class that The Woman is taking online. She was busy this morning so I thought that I would help her out.

The Things That They Carry By Cortez Squirrelsbane Shiba-san

It is 7 AM, and they scurry like rats
Trying to get out the door and across the door mat
I have been fed and watered, and given my walk
But these two people don’t even have time for a talk
Instead, they grab their purses and cases
Tying their shoes with flashy new laces
They fly out of the house with their lunches and keys
Dreading, starting their cars in the deep winter freeze

The Woman spills her purse, the contents fall to the ground
Her wallet and coupons are scattered all around
Pencils and pens for which the children do borrow
Peppermint candies for when breath smells like bone marrow
Her key chain of Amethyst rock, a present from Maman
Skitters out of sight behind the garbage can
She curses because she is late again, the third time this week
Finally she finds the car keys, seeing the can and taking a peek

That Guy sets up his iPod in his Mustang so red
The loud techno music blasting into his head
His Dell Laptop is snug on the back seat
The case is covered with dog fur and dirt from my feet
His company ID is attached to a chain
Since he has lost it more than once, and damaged it in the rain
His wallet and cell phone are in his jacket pocket
It’s all about speed, traveling as fast as a rocket

She checks her school bag while her Aveo drips snow
It’s orange like me, and her jacket zipped up ready to go
The children’s assignments are ready to be returned
Although the children would wish that their grades could be burned
Her books she is reading for class and for fun
Are also packed inside for when to MCC she does run
I have been there; it’s a fun place
Green grass with rabbit smells and open spaces to race

These people I live with, The Woman and That Guy
Have bags and purses and cases no lie
But inside the Aveo, is the most important bag of all
It has inside a blanket, a harness, a long leash and a ball
For this bag is mine, safely packed in the car
Because when we go hiking or to the park or travel afar
I too have my belongings so I am ready to go
For any adventure, either the forest, the beach or in the snow

That Guy Returns

That Guy took off again this week, and returned home yesterday. It was nice to see him. He brought me a bone from the Atlanta Pet Smart. Personally, I would have rather gone to the Atlanta Pet Smart but I never turn down a tasteful and tasty gift.

The Woman did not suffer from her normal Agoraphobia in That Guy's absence and so we ended up driving all around town running errands, and going for two really nice long walks- something we had not done together for some time. Both walk days had great weather but then a horrid snow/sleet/rainfall came that kept us both indoors. So then she terrorized me and the feline with the vacuum cleaner and disrupted our lives with noisy music.

We did watch the Westminster Dog show together but I went to bed after the Shiba did not even place. I was most disappointed.

How can I get my daily nap when she is making so much noise for two days in a row?

But now life is back to normal. It is Sunday. That Guy and The Woman read the paper, and I get a walk and some attention. Later they will make noise with their computer and then bother me as they move about the house doing stuff.



I Am Shiba. I like Routine.

Do Shibas Shed?

This is a question that is posed to many Shiba owners. A person who is captivated by our intelligent look and magnificent carriage, compliments our perfection and dignity, and when inquiring to the nature of what is Shiba, the inevitable question arises asking "Do they shed?"

There is an easy way to answer this question.



This is after my Sunday morning nail clipping, teeth cleaning, and quick brushing (about five minutes worth of attention and grooming). Hygiene is, of course, very important to a Shiba and thus, with our People's assistance, we can continue our contribution to the gorgeousness of The World. Please note that My People have a carpet the same color as me.

However, here is another Shiba- Tierce- from the website of The Misanthropic Shiba- who decided in the middle of winter to start to "blow" his coat, which means- shed out another Shiba. Shibas are not made by normal methods of breeding but rather, our fur is gathered together and breeders made new Shibas out of the old. It's like single-celled critter division.



And from the Northeast Shiba Rescue Website, I bring you Pogo, with his full black and tan goodness on a white quilt!



So, as our viewers can see, on a daily basis, we shed. Then we have our partial sheddings which involve our People's attention for more than five minutes but less than an hour. And then, finally, we have what is called "the blowing of our coat" which means you better be ready to brush daily as well as follow us with vacuum cleaner because we am gonna let it all fall out!


I Am Shiba. Shedding is Merely My Contribution to Household Decorating.

I Am Back, Baby!

And I might add, that I am just a tad excited about my ability to run, play, and do all the things that I love to do! My stitches are out, the vet says I am in good shape (and should stop reading medical books), and I am ready to return back to the world to show everyone who and what it is to be Shiba.

I still have a shaved spot on my hind leg but I am successfully hiding this blemish from photographers. After all, with Franklin D. Roosevelt, they only photographed him sitting or from the waist up as a consideration. The paparazzi shall do the same for me.



(photo edited to avoid embarrassing the easily embarrassed).

I Am Shiba. Sometimes, I Just Get a Little Too Excited.