Meet Gucci & Rufus

 

After roughly 2 months of putting this off, I now present to you Gucci and Rufus, Poki’s dad and brother. And just in time for Father’s Day too!

Jen Chiang came over for a doggy play date with Gucci and Rufus in tow. I can most definitely see the resemblance between Poki and his dad. But Rufus on the other hand is one huge question mark. He’s way huger and has curly hair, just like his mother. So weird how genetics work, huh?

I now realize that perhaps I should have named Poki something a little more masculine (like Rufus) or maybe classy (like Gucci).

…

Ahwell. Sorry Pokes, but you’re stuck with your little pansy name.

miniature poki

Stole some pictures of Poki as a baby from my sister April and my friend Hemang Saraiya.
Why?
Because I’m an obsessed dog lady, that’s why.

P.S. Look at how few spots he had as a puppy! More reason for me to believe that he is a dwarfed out dalmatian, because if there is one thing that Disney has taught me, it’s that dalmations grow into their spots. Learned that from when Roger and Anita yelled at Cruella Deville when she tried to buy off Perde’s and Pongo’s puppies. RUDE! I can dust off my VHS of 101 Dalmatians and prove it to you, too.

photo cred: april cerillophoto cred: Hemang Saraiya.

test subject #1: mr. sock monkey

I’ve been meaning to do a little experiment on how long it takes Poki to rip his cute little toys into smithereens. Here is case numero uno:  Mr. Sock Monkey.

Perhaps Mr. Sock Monkey wasn’t the greatest first example. I say this only because it took Little Pokis Maximus about 37 minutes to tear into this little sucker…or should I say socker.

And so, 37 minutes after Poki was introduced to Mr. Sock Monkey, Poki was forced say goodbye to Mr. Sock Monkey.

R.I.P. little monkey. Hope you’re in a better place. <3 And sorry about your innards being strewn across my kitchen floor…

the emancipation of poki

Occasionally I leash Poki to the couch in an attempt to control his puppy like tendencies of chewing up everything in sight and making monumental messes. This often times proves futile as he just digs up couch cushions and creates a whole new playground for himself to borrow into. Anyway, so the other morning I anchored him to our couch before leaving for lunch and lo and behold he decides to gnaw through his leash, emancipating himself from his confinements. I didn’t even realize it and I had to do a double take as I watched him happily trot into the kitchen with a fragment of his leash flapping behind him, no doubt pleased with himself that he managed to outsmart, or rather, outchew, my makeshift captivation device.

eco-efficient paper shredder

I leave the room for 5 minutes, and in those 5 minutes Poki successfully manages to dismember and destroy a magazine. I can just imagine him saying, “Look what I did Mom! I’m so hardcore!” in a prideful voice, with his unusually stout chest puffed in confidence. Too bad his midget legs make him anything but hardcore. What the poor magazine did to deserve such a messy demise, I have no idea.

Scardy cat.

This picture gets me every time. What’re ya lookin at Poki?

Maybe this isn’t so daily…

It’s no secret: I suck at keeping up with blogs. I seem to have been getting this look a lot from Poki aka he is not ever amused with me. Probably because he has this huge camera in his face 24/7 while he eats, poops, sleeps, sits, stands, stares, etc., etc.  I also have fallen into a bad habit of buying every possible Christmas dog sweater at the dollar section of Target. I can’t help it though, they’re just so darn cute. I can feel myself morphing into one of those disgusting dog owners who shovel copious amounts of money into the pet clothing and accessory  industry and take videos of their pets, set it to obnoxious instrumental music with slide show effects, and post it on YouTube. Oh God help me.