Category Archives: Lisa J. Rogers

Lisa J. Rogers: Spooky Cookies: best Halloween treats around!

From: Dreams du Dog
October 15, 2012 at 08:57PM

I did my best beast imitation, sans costume, last week at Petco Unleashed on Linden Street—not only did I sample the free cookies at the counter, I demolished practically the entire contents of the bowl.

How long does she really expect me to sit  here?

I tried them, I liked them. I loved them. So when it came down to which cookies to choose at the bountiful treat bar, I went right for the bats, pumpkins and ghosts  (inside: a delectable peanut-molasses combo, plus some food coloring to make the pumpkins orange and the bats purple).  I’m so crazy about these things, I’m even coming when called. As long as there’s a treat when I get there.

Way past time to take matters into my own jaws.

That is, if there are any left.

Lisa J. Rogers: Going way Boloco in Wellesley

From: Dreams du Dog
October 07, 2012 at 05:15PM

One valuable nose.

Summer’s lease hath too short a date, that’s for sure. I dropped two neck sizes, all the while exercising both my body and my nose as I went after perfectly edible food considered unworthy by humans. So, sometimes I made mistakes: remember the rabbit head I snagged at Wellesley College?

This week, in that very same spot, I grabbed an old hamburger bun, with a bonus—part of a burger. Earlier, I had hightailed it to just-opened Boloco, where I broke a woman’s reverie by diving underneath her table. Embarrassed Mom dragged me out of there, but I was not to be denied: I made a second pass after the diner had left and grabbed some carnitas that were, wastefully, lying just at that woman’s feet.

While I may have a thinner neck from all of that nosework, my friend Rebecca at Wellesley Books thinks I have plumped up at the other end. Like the ant in the Aesop fable (remember the ant and the grasshopper?) I’m saving up for winter’s bleakness. Fewer after dinner walks, fewer chicken wings tossed out of car windows. Yet if you drop it, I’ll find it. Just doing my part to keep things clean. And, thanks, Wellesley selectmen, for allowing those outdoor tables. You just might help a poor animal make it through the winter.

Lisa J. Rogers: La dolce vita in Wellesley

From: Dreams du Dog
September 22, 2012 at 10:04PM

Gorgeous day, gorgeous girl. What could be more sweet?

The setting: the Italian garden at Wellesley (the house, not the town)
The event:  a perfect passeggiata with my beloved
The girl: the gorgeous, golden-haired Kiki, who is patient, devoted, always in a great mood
The result: romantico!

Lisa J. Rogers: How I turned several shades of gray—in an instant!

From: Dreams du Dog
September 21, 2012 at 04:47PM

Emulating Harry.

An orange truck sizzled against green grass that stretched to the horizon. A group of musclebound workers packed up, admired their handiwork creating new striping on the soccer field, and prepared to drive off.

That’s where I entered this cliche and broke it right open.

My nose led me straight to the wide, bright white sideline stripe. I stopped, dropped and rolled. And rolled. And rolled.

When I got up, I looked like  Harry the Dirty Dog before he got dirty. Remember that Gene Zion classic? Where he was white with black patches and turned black with white patches, I became a dirtyish kind of gray. So much so that a neighbor thought I had suddenly aged. I am graying, a bit, at the temples, if you look very closely, but really! I’m only five.

Harry and I have a lot in common: we both prefer not to be groomed. However, our escapades ended with the same four-letter word: B-A-T-H.

Allowed inside again.

Lisa J. Rogers: Good grooming, CrossFit style!

From: Dreams du Dog
September 09, 2012 at 09:41PM

Pre-grooming. Imagine how good I look now!

If there were a dog CrossFit category, I’d be in. If awards were given for good grooming, however, I’d be out.

Given that everyone needs to come clean eventually, even me, I decided to do it CrossFit style. You know, 20 brutal minutes yields incredible results.

So I called on my friend Karen Hayes, who not only is a CrossFitter in superb shape, but also owns a mobile grooming van in Natick called Pawsible Solutions. Like CrossFit—you hate to go, glad you did it when it’s over—I knew I was in for it when she pulled up in my driveway.

Dad lured me outside with a “let’s go in the car” bait-and-switch, and when I balked outside the van, Karen just picked up all 90 stubborn pounds of me and popped me in. Now, given that my equine tendencies (I fall asleep standing up, pick up my hooves—I mean paws—for cleaning, spook at nothing, balk, am extraordinarily stubborn, etc. etc.) include performing like a bucking bronco, her picking me up is no mean feat.

I quickly overcame my shock and, given that this was my first time in a van, plopped right in the driver’s seat, just to see what it was like.

Somehow, Karen got me out of there, got me groomed, and voila, I’m a new man. Karen also does dog-walking and pet sitting, and I can tell you, when she says “walk,” I do it. Just like any CrossFitter would.

Lisa J. Rogers: Labor Day, D list style

From: Dreams du Dog
September 04, 2012 at 09:20PM

Not being on the A list, I didn’t make the cut for the Labor Day party at our friends’ on Weston Road, so I had to go scrounge up a burger on my own.

I mean, my talent at sniffing out discarded goods is, I dare say, more valuable than that orca-scat sniffing dog that runs around the Pacific. You did see that Times piece, right? OK, he’s saving the whales, I’m saving…a spot on the couch?

So it was a few days old, and lying in the woods. The burger, not the orca. No bun, but what did I care? Give me the meat, I say.

Mom said the same thing. I don’t get it: she was at the party, she had a burger, with bun, right off the grill. What did she want with my find?

I’ll never know. She opened my jaws, grabbed the burger, and tossed it further into the woods. It pains me that it will be eaten by some raccoon or something who won’t know anything about sirloin, much less be properly informed about the significance of Labor Day. 

What kind of treats does that whale-sniffing dog earn, anyway?

I lie, faint from hunger, pondering the state of unions and
bemoaning the fate of the orcas.

Lisa J. Rogers: Wild thing tests hunting skills

From: Dreams du Dog
August 27, 2012 at 01:05PM

So where was I when the latest wild thing threatened our fish, hugged our trees and generally treated our yard as a playground?
However, my hunting instincts soon woke me up and I rampaged around, tracking the scent of that raccoon just as I was bred to.

This morning’s visitor: cute, and a good climber, too!

Raccoons, deer, fox, bear, even mountain lion all have been challenged by the likes of moi. We hounds are big. We hounds are fast. We hounds…like to sleep after a hard-charging morning. Inside, preferably, away from most wild things.

Lisa J. Rogers: Why they call it R π

From: Dreams du Dog
August 20, 2012 at 08:08PM

How many places of pi do you know?

The numbers go on…and on…

Someone even makes a correction!

Took my sister back to school at Rensselaer Polytechnic Institute today–R π to those who like the inside joke.

I was a sad puppy. But when I saw what was carved into the picnic table outside her dorm, I had to laugh.

The only kind of pi I know is the peach and blueberry one Mom made last week. And the only calculation I had to make was when to make my move. I can assure you that this kind of pie was delicious.

Lisa J. Rogers: With new Nessie evidence, Morsie monster might not be a log after all

From: Dreams du Dog
August 04, 2012 at 02:12PM

Could the Morsie Monster be real?

It can hardly be coincidence that a new photo reportedly showing irrefutable evidence that the Loch Ness monster exists comes just two weeks after my Morsie Monster sighting. I have to say, the resemblance is striking, leading me to reopen my investigation.

Apparently, I came to the too-rapid conclusion that Morsie was merely a floating log, shifting this way and that in the currents. After all, Loch Ness skipper George Edwards has spent 26 years searching for Nessie, and I consider case closed after a fortnight?

Yesterday, Mom boated out to the middle of the pond to get another look at Morsie, but was reluctant to disturb the cormorant resting on its spine. Suddenly, Morsie then wrapped itself around her kayak, and she frantically paddled away, much like the kayaker off Cape Cod who recently managed to outpaddle a great white shark.

As for me, I’ll hang out in my pool today.

Lisa J. Rogers: What I did on my summer vacation

From: Dreams du Dog
August 03, 2012 at 05:45PM

Even during summer vacation? No dogs, ever?

Let’s face it: I’m always on vacation. But then again, a dog’s work just looks like people’s play. It’s exhausting to be attuned constantly to scents, sights, sounds, dropped food, etc., etc., etc.

A few headlines, then, sparing most of the boring details.

Big bully leaps through open window of truck, charging at innocent hound
—then goes shopping at Bacon Street Farm, thanks to recently installed automatic door.

Later identified as dessicated bunny head. Tasted as rotten as it looked.

Mouse nest disturbed. Food at least five years old and definitely rotten. I found out the hard way.

No exegesis needed.

Lisa J. Rogers: Two great pups, ready for adoption!

From: Dreams du Dog
August 02, 2012 at 11:55AM

Mickey, 9 months. Super cute!
We could be twins.

If you’d like a dog that will stop people in their tracks, overcome by its handsomeness, elegance and seemingly well-behaved mannerisms, then head right on over to Buddy Dog Humane Society to check out two Walker hounds who need homes.

Roscoe, 9 months old. He’s ready for fun!

I haven’t met them, but if they’re anything like moi, they’re sweet, sleep a lot when they’re not up to a bit of mischief, are super friendly and easy to love. Most likely, they’ll be a bit stubborn, but that’s just because they are incredibly smart. And who doesn’t want an intellectual companion?

Just be sure you have a fence, because, boy, do we like to run.

To learn more about hounds, check out the Coonhound Companions website. While you’re there, head to the Long Ears Blog to read Mom’s post on the joys of adopting me.
Then, when you just can’t stand it any longer, head right over to Buddy Dog to give these guys a home. And let me know, because they look like they’d be super playmates!

Lisa J. Rogers: Wellesley’s where the wild things are: another scorpion sighted

From: Dreams du Dog
July 29, 2012 at 07:46PM

Another scorpion in Wellesley? Yup. I found one this afternoon, on the trail that runs behind Town Hall and between the Duck Pond and the train tracks. Usually, the only wild things I see there are a bunch of tweener boys hanging out by the culvert.

But today, I smelled something…sniffed…and Dad yanked me away. Mom, being an ocean person, thought, “tiny lobster?” Dad, being from California, realized it was a kind of scorpion. And my sister, owner of every field guide known to man, identified it as a kind of whipscorpion, properly called a Vinegarone. Its usual hangout includes the southern U.S., so what it was doing here, I have no idea.

This Vinegarone photo comes from the wildlife files at

The creature was about 3 to 3.5 inches long, dark brown, and it was tough to spot its tail. Turns out the whipscorpion doesn’t have a stinger and isn’t venomous, unless you swoon at the scent of vinegar, because it releases that scent when annoyed. Unfortunately, no photo, because I not only swooned, I didn’t have a camera.

This might or might not be a good time to point out that, upon closer scrutiny, the Morsie Monster turns out to be…a floating piece of deadwood.

Lisa J. Rogers: Jubilant July in Wellesley Square

From: Dreams du Dog
July 22, 2012 at 08:45AM

Jubilant describes me well: “feeling or expressing great
happiness or triumph.” Especially the triumph part.

Took in July Jubilation yesterday in Wellesley Square, which was filled with people, dogs and bargains, and took in a foot-long hot dog, too, which was delicious.

Spectators stood by and admired me while I wolfed down the dog, suggesting I might do well in a hot dog eating contest given that I consumed said delicacy in one gulp. I met lots of terrific Wellesley firefighters; the hot dog and popcorn stand was set up in front of the fire station and raised funds to support the Muscular Dystrophy Association. Not only is it a terrific cause, it’s backed my pals the Delaney family, who set up and ran the whole thing from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. (Matt even spent considerable time in the dunk tank) while Lt. Paul Delaney was on the job.

As for me, I did my part, and it wasn’t tiring in the least.

Lisa J. Rogers: Are you hearing me? Can you hear me now?

From: Dreams du Dog
July 16, 2012 at 01:09PM

It seems like everyone would love their dogs to talk, but no one really wants to hear what they have to say.  Remember Martha, in Martha Speaks, by local author Susan Meddaugh? When Martha could finally talk, she bored everyone to tears.

So when Mom tried to take me for a walk last night, she did not want to hear that I preferred going out in the car instead of walking in the neighborhood. She did not want to hear that I preferred someplace different than the Lilja field (I mean, I can walk there, so why drive?). She did not like hearing that I did not want to stroll among the Bacon Street Farm flowers.

Did someone say something about getting off the furniture?

In fact, I had to tell her twice: first, when I slunk back against the very front of the wayback in our car, where she couldn’t reach me; and then, when I performed an emphatic Plop O’Doom. She finally got the message when I sat down, because I never sit. It was kind of like screaming when, really, it all could have been avoided.

Because I screamed, then, I reluctantly—is there a word for “very reluctantly”?—deigned in Natick Center to exit my preferred form of transport. However, the route quickly became boring, and I returned to the vehicle. I thought we’d have a conversation about where to go next, so I waited to enter, but she said nothing. She can speak, right? But no. I indicated my preference to find another walking locale. She ignored me. Finally, I gave up, got in the car, and was driven home against my will, where I had a good long sulking nap.

I checked the thesaurus. Some alternatives to reluctant: hesitant (too weak); disinclined (that’s more like it); unenthusiastic (that’s putting it mildly); resistant (no kidding); opposed (well, that’s certainly firm!). The question is: can anyone hear me?

Lisa J. Rogers: Kin of Loch Ness found in Morses Pond

From: Dreams du Dog
July 15, 2012 at 02:34PM

Morsie, as I’ve been calling her, has been swimming around for the past month or two, but I wasn’t fortunate enough to get a clear shot of her until now.

Believed to be the first photo of the Loch Morse monster.

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