Thursday, February 28, 2013

REVIEW & GIVEAWAY: Spoiled Rotten Box

Spoiled Rotten Box

Where to Find:


If you're a regular reader here, you already know the Lapdogs are spoiled rotten... as are many of your pooches!  With a little help from, they can all be really spoiled... on a monthly basis.  Introducing Four-Legged-Christmas-in-A-Box, aka the Spoiled Rotten box...


Before I go any further, I must point out that absolutely adorable purple Spoiled Rotten sticker on the box.  Is that not one of the cutest logos ever?  While I was admiring the logo, there were four sniffers thoroughly inspecting the box.  Of course they think every box that lands on our doorstep is for them, and they're usually right...

I'll admit, at first I figured "okay, here's another one of those boxes full of trial size products and probably a few completely useless ones" -- but much to my delight, the Spoiled Rotten box is one of the best subscription boxes I've seen yet!  We were sent a January box and it is chop full of fabulous, full size products... a few that we already know and love, and a few that are new to us.  I'm not sure who was more excited -- the Lapdogs or their Mama!

Inside the jam-packed January 2013 Spoiled Rotten box we found:
  • Luther's Natural Dog Treats, Body variety - We reviewed Luther's treats last year, and are big fans!  They even received our 16 Paws Up Seal of Approval!  You can check out that review here
  • Old Mother Hubbard P-Nuttier Mini Dog Biscuits - OMH is a favorite of ours.  The treats are made just over the border in Massachusetts and have been a staple in our home for many years.  While I usually buy the larger size biscuits for the Lapdogs, we often have a bag or two of the mini size on hand for our fosters.  The P-Nuttier flavor are made with peanut butter, molasses, apples & carrots and have been one of Zeus' favorites since he was a puppy.
  • Pet Naturals Breath Bites - Designed to support fresh breath, these bone-shaped chews are made just over another border of ours, in Vermont.  The brand is new to us and one we'll certainly look for in the future.
  • Natural Balance Limited Ingredient Duck & Potato Rolls - We had never tried the Natural Balance rolled food before and at first, I thought it was a wet food like other brands we've tried.  However, the label says it's actually a treat.  Teutul thought that was pretty darn cool!
  • John Paul Pet Full Body and Paw Dog Wipes - Yes, these chic doggy wipes are made by the John Paul... as in the co-founder of Paul Mitchell (human) hair care products.   We don't tend to use a lot of dog wipes, but I will certainly buy these when I need some.  Not only are they Made in the USA, but my favorite part of the label is one simple statement - "Tested on Humans First."  Yes, I'm in love with some doggy wipes! 
  • GoDog Frills the Triceratops with Chew Guard - This is our third GoDog toy and I have to say, we're all huge fans!  The Chew Guard technology adds "a super tough, durable liner to every toy" that has stood the test of all four chewing, drooling, squeaker-killing Lapdogs!  Our first experience with them was in December when I happened upon a cute green dinosaur for Sophie's birthday.  She loves that thing and so do I (I'd be happier if they weren't made in China, but I'll take what I can get) - and yes, it's still played with on a daily basis! We will actually be doing a separate review of GoDog products soon... so stay tuned!
Yes, all of that tail-wagging-goodness was crammed into one Spoiled Rotten box!  Can you believe it?  Another thing I really love about Spoiled Rotten is their pledge to only include edibles that are Made in the USA.  As I said, I can (sometimes) get over certain toys being made in China, but never the edibles.  The Lapdogs have given their Official 16 Paws Up Seal of Approval and told me they'd like Mommy to sign them up for a subscription...

SpoiledRottenBox_Sophie_21713bSpoiled Rotten boxes sell for $24.99 per month and despite the Lapdogs protest, I must tell you they also have special boxes for cats!

Is your pack ready to get spoiled?  Enter now for your chance to WIN a Spoiled Rotten box of your dog's very own!  (enter through the Rafflecopter widget below and be sure to leave a comment here on the blog, as that is one of the required forms of entry).  Good luck... everyone should be spoiled once in awhile (or in the case, on a monthly basis)!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Disclosure: sent a Spoiled Rotten box to Lapdog Creations, free of charge for review purposes.  They are also providing the winner of my contest with one Spoiled Rotten box, free of charge. I was not compensated for this review and all opinions expressed are my own.

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Wordless Love

Happy Wordless Wednesday!

Hooey hounds in the morning sun spot #dogstagram #morning #hounds #adoptdontshop #rescue #sun

Good Sunday Morning! #coffee #knitting #nook @mindykaling #relax #lazyday


#hamburg #pizza #lunch #TGIF #food #yumo #sodelicious

SittingThisCloseToMommy  #love #bigdog #sniffer #dogstagram #dogs

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Ten on Tuesday: Go Away Winter

This week's Ten on Tuesday topic is rather fitting for those of us who continue to have that white crap dumped on us, week after week... 10 Reasons Why You are Ready for Winter to be OVER.
#morning #drive #newengland #snow #winter #enoughalready
1. Snow.  Sure, it was pretty the first hundred few times this winter, but it's time for it to go.

2. Driving in the Snow. Despite living in New England where it, you know, snows, it seems everyone forgets how to drive in it.  And don't even get me started on the idiots who think they can drive 90 in their SUV's in the snow and ice.

Icicles_po_24113. Ice and slush from the melting and refreezing.... EVERYWHERE.  So much for wearing any nice shoes for awhile.

4. Static Cling. I can't stand this out of control static hair.

5. MUD... from all the snow melting. If we're going to go through the mud issue, then let's get to spring and just be done with it. I don't need muddy paws in the middle of winter.

#Blizzard2013 #Nemo #snow6. Dry Skin.  I have hand lotions and lip balms stashed everywhere.  "Don't leave home without it" 

7. Nemo.  One word, one name... one bitch of a storm! 

8. Sick People... especially those who get me sick, which I am now and it's no fun.  I'm not a good sick person.

-59. Bitter Cold. I'm a fall girl... I like my cool long-sleeve-tee-wearing-pretty-leaf-peeping temps. I!

10. Winter Outerwear.  Let's face it, most of it is not pretty (except the handknit hats, mitts and scarves, of course) and it only adds bulk. 

Monday, February 25, 2013

REVIEW & GIVEAWAY: Pukka's Promise

Pukka's Promise

The Quest for Longer-Lived Dogs

by Ted Kerasote
Hardcover: 464 Pages
Publisher:  Houghton Mifflin Harcourt (February 5, 2013)


"Why must our dogs die so young?"  That is the question that so many dog owners ask ourselves on a regular basis, and hundreds of readers of Ted Kerasote's book Merle's Door wrote variations of to the author.  Kerasote traveled the dog world throughout North America and Europe interviewing breeders, vets, and leaders of the animal-welfare movement and the result is Pukka's Promise: The Quest for Longer-Lived Dogs. 

Kerasote used cutting edge research to help dog owners rethink the everyday choices they make for their pets.  He explains how our own lifestyles ultimately affect the longevity of our dogs.  Additionally, Kerasote lays to rest many timeworn myths about dog health and suggests a different approach to reducing the number of pets killed in North American shelters annually - including an inexpensive alternative to spaying and neutering.

Pick up a copy of Pukka's Promise today and see for yourself how Kerasote mixes science with love in his quest to understand our pets' lives.

The following is an excerpt from Pukka's Promise...

CHAPTER ONE - Too Soon Over

When Merle the dog of my heart was dying, he rallied one morning, going outside on his own to take a pee. The sun had just risen; robins sang; geese called from the river. The snowy Tetons stood pink in the clear May sky.

Merle squatted and relieved himself. Then, walking to the spruce trees on the edge of our land, he had a bowel movement, holding himself in a perfect crouch. Just as had been the case when I tended my dying father, and any small sign of renewed vigor in him had given me hope of a recovery, these indications of normalcy in Merle buoyed my spirits. As the rising sun gilded his fur, I could for a moment deny the inevitable: that he would soon pass from this life and our remarkable partnership would end. His dying simply wasn’t possible. After all, only thirteen years had gone by since we had met on the San Juan River, I a forty-one-year-old writer looking for an adventurous whitewater run, Merle a ten-month-old, half-wild pup living a very real adventure on his own in the Utah desert.

Golden in color, shading to fox red, Merle was of indeterminate ancestry and had strong Lab features — the tall rangy Lab, the field Lab — with perhaps a bit of hound and Golden Retriever thrown in. I liked his looks, and I very much liked his manners: no frenzied barking, whining, or licking. I gathered that he liked me as well, especially how I smelled, for he’d stick his nose against my skin, breathe in deeply, and sigh.

We went down the river together, and at the end of the trip he leapt into the truck and came home with me to Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Over the next thirteen years, we hiked, horsepacked, and camped throughout the Rockies, running rivers in the spring, hunting elk in the fall, and skiing the Tetons from October until June. We were partners in the outdoors as well as in our small village of Kelly, where Merle had his own dog door so he could come and go as he wished. Each day, as I went to my home office to write, he, too, would set off to work, visiting his friends in the village, both canine and human, exploring the surrounding countryside, and making sure that everyone and everything in his domain was in order. He was called “the Mayor” and was as collected, calm, and independent a soul as one could wish for, yet he always came home, bonded to me, as I was to him.

Now, almost fourteen years old, Merle finished relieving himself and trotted across the grass, his tail swishing happily. Jumping onto the deck with a surprising bound despite his arthritis, he gave a joyful pant: “Ha-ha-ha!”

I couldn’t mistake his meaning: “Can you believe it, Ted? I’m feeling really good this morning!”

“You do look good, Sir!” I replied. “Like your old self. What do you say? Do you want to come with me and do the recycling?”

“Hah!” he exclaimed. “You bet!”

As we drove south along the Gros Ventre River in our big blue truck, he sat erect on the front seat, puffed up as he always was when he wore his dog seat belt. He looked out the window at the snowcapped Tetons with a grin of idiotic pleasure.

“They sure are pretty, aren’t they?” I said.

He panted twice, deeply — “HAH! HAH!” — which I translated as: “Yes! Yes! It is so good to be alive and looking at them!”

“Yes, it is good to be alive!” I replied, putting my hand on his ruff and thinking, “Here we are, still together.”

I was so grateful, for only two weeks before, most of our friends and all of Merle’s vets except one had suggested putting him down after twenty-four hours of seizures. The one exception had been a canine neurologist who had counseled patience and prescribed two medications that had ended the seizures and allowed Merle to begin his recovery.

The neurologist had given us a stay, and we were making the most of it, unwrapping each day as if it were a gift. We dumped the trash bags at the landfill; we sorted the bottles and papers at the recycling center; and on our way back through Jackson I stopped at Valley Feed and Pet, which was having its annual spring sale, rows of booths set up under a pavilion-like tent that had been erected in the parking lot. I could see friends milling about and eating barbecue as their dogs sat alertly at their feet, noses pointed upward, their eyes saying, “Excuse me, I could use a bite of that.”

“You want to meet and greet,” I asked Merle as I parked the truck, “or stay and have a nap?”

He lay down on the seat and gave a soft pant: “I think I’ll stay right here.”

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll be back in a few.”

I closed the door, gave him another pat through the open window, and walked toward the booths. Just then, a young, athletic-looking couple came out of their car and intersected my path. They were in their midtwenties, both of them dressed in baggy chinos, running shoes, and fleece jackets. The man held a small puppy, a chocolate Lab, with a broad, wrinkled face and bright yellow eyes that looked keenly at everything going on around him.

“Seven weeks old?” I asked as I stopped before the couple and reached out to pet the puppy.

“A little bit more,” said the woman. “We just got him.”

I leaned close to the puppy so I could touch noses with him. His breath smelled like milk and vanilla and young teeth. I made a smooching noise with my lips; he squirmed in delight. The man put him in my arms, and the puppy wriggled against my chest and licked my neck madly.

“Oh, you are a beauty,” I told him, kissing his head. He squirmed again in happiness.

I had the sudden feeling of being watched and turned toward the truck. Merle was sitting up, looking out the window at me, his deep red fur not nearly as red as when we had met, his face as white as snow.

“Hah!” he panted. “I see you petting that puppy! Just remember who the main dog is.”

I blew a loud kiss to Merle and held the puppy for one more moment — young and warm and delicious in my arms — before handing him back to the man, who snuggled him against his chest.

The couple walked toward the booths, and as I watched them go I thought: “In fourteen years, perhaps sooner, certainly not much longer, he’ll break your heart. Your entire life from now until then will be colored by him: his woofs, his wags, his smells, how he swam, his yips while he dreamed, how he rode your first child on his back, and how he began to slow down just as you were hitting your stride.”

I looked back to Merle, grinning at me from the truck. Like everyone’s dog, he had been all that and more, and I thought: “Why do they die so young?”

I’m not alone in asking this question. In the months following the publication of a book I wrote describing Merle’s life and what he had taught me about living with dogs, I received hundreds of e-mails from readers who had lost beloved dogs and closed their letters with a variation on this theme: “Why must our dogs die so young?”

Naturally, when most of us say this, we’re not expecting an answer. We’re expressing a rhetorical complaint: why do our best friends in the animal kingdom live so much shorter lives than we do, only about an eighth of our life span?

However, I also received more specific questions from many readers, many of them heartrending: “Why is my dog going blind from progressive retinal atrophy?” “Why has my dog come down with Cushing’s disease?” “Why wasn’t I told that my dog might become arthritic after being vaccinated?” “Why did my dog have to die of cancer at three, at four, at six years old?” “Why,” as one person wrote, “have four of my five Golden Retrievers died of cancer?”

Some of these questions hit very close to home. Merle’s best friend Brower, a Golden Retriever, was diagnosed with a malignant cancer of the snout when he was six. Another of Merle’s good friends, a black Lab named Pearly, died at seven of a neurofibrosarcoma that began in a nerve root at the base of her neck. Merle himself, though no young dog at fourteen, finally succumbed to his brain tumor.

As more of these letters came in, I couldn’t ignore them. I did a bibliographic search and discovered that no extensive and rigorous exploration of these questions could be found in any one place. Thinking that these questions deserved a book-length treatment, I began to investigate, and not merely because I’m perpetually curious about our closest animal friends. I knew that at some point my heart would heal and I would long for another dog with whom to share my life. I wanted to make sure that the care I would give my new dog helped him to live a long and healthy life, longer than Merle’s, if possible.

It was with these two goals in mind — learning about the healthiest ways to raise our dogs and finding my own new dog — that I set out on a quest, combing the veterinary literature and interviewing veterinarians, dog breeders, and shelter workers about the factors that affect dog health and longevity. Six factors were on almost everyone’s list: inbreeding, nutrition, environmental pollutants, vaccination, spaying and neutering, and the shelter system in which too many dogs end their days. One factor that wasn’t frequently mentioned, but which I believe is also important, is the amount of freedom dogs enjoy.

This book is based on that peer-reviewed veterinary literature (referenced in the notes), as well as on the work of progressive thinkers in the worlds of veterinary medicine, dog breeding, and animal welfare, whose advances and reforms may not have appeared in your local veterinarian’s office, kennel club, or shelter. It was with the help of these out-of-the-box thinkers that I began to question many of the outdated notions that surround our living with dogs, everything from yearly vaccinations to the idea that dogs need consistency in their diet. Indeed, since Merle and I met on the banks of the San Juan River in the spring of 1991, the way our culture raises dogs has changed considerably, as has mine. This book is about that evolution.

One thing hasn’t changed in my thinking. I still believe that dogs are individuals as well as members of a class. Even though we can make generalizations about their nurture and training, we can’t ever forget that each dog is unique, both physiologically and psychologically, and capable of making its own choices in complex and personalized ways, if only given the chance.

Merle, of course, led me on this journey of understanding from the start, helping me to see the richness of a dog’s mind, a mentoring that Pukka has taken over, adding an insight that Merle was unable to provide. Pukka, being a very young puppy, helped to reopen my eyes to the ever-present newness of the world.

Sitting on my lap a few days after I brought him home, he watched a training video with me, paying close attention to the demonstrator dog’s every move and pricking his ears when the dog barked. Then, when the video was over, he climbed onto my desk, and, quite sensibly for someone who had never seen a computer monitor before, peered behind the darkened screen to find where the barking dog was hiding. Glancing over his shoulder, he gave me a startled look: “That dog’s not there.”

Many people soon learned that I had a new puppy and sent Pukka gifts, a menagerie of stuffed animals that we stored in a wicker basket beneath the large windows overlooking the Tetons: a quacking duck, a howling wolf, a growling bear, a neighing horse, a barking dog, a laughing monkey, a wailing yak, a bellowing moose, and a squeaking hedgehog, as well as an assortment of rubber rings, stuffed cloth bones, knotted ropes, Frisbees, and balls.

Pukka would take them out one by one during the day, and I would put them away at night, and he would remove them again in the morning after breakfast, starting always with his favorite, the quacking duck, trotting across the room, and presenting it to me.

“We’re going to town,” I reminded him on this particular morning.

“Oh, please,” his black button eyes implored, “toss it just once.”

I launched the duck across the room, and he bounded after it, returning it to me smartly. Ten weeks old and he was already quite the retriever.

“Let’s go,” I said, “or we’ll be late.”

He looked at me coyly, furrowing his golden brows: “Just one more time.”

There is a good evolutionary reason for puppies being cute. Few can resist their demands.

“Okay,” I said, giving in. “One more time.” I tossed; he fetched.

“That’s it.” I took the duck from him and walked it to the wicker basket, where I placed it on top of the other animals. “Let’s go.”

The instant I turned my back and took a step toward the door, he grabbed the duck and squeezed it — quack! — and dropped it at my feet.

“Pukka,” I chided him gently, “we need to go.” I put the duck in the basket. He plunged his snout in after it, snatched up the bear, and gave it a shake. Grrr, the bear growled.

I took it from him and placed it in the basket as he snagged the neighing horse, biting it and making it whinny.

“Enough, Pukka,” I said, trying to sound firm. But he could see me smiling.

He dropped the horse and lunged for the yak. It wailed.

“Pukka, enough, let’s go!” Dropping the yak, he snatched up the barking dog — rau-rau-rau! — and immediately tossed it aside for the squealing bone. Twice he bit it — squeal! squeal! — then flung it at me, only to grab the squeaking hedgehog. He was now laughing a big puppy grin as I put each stuffed animal into the basket, and said, “Everyone back in place. Neat and tidy. There we go.”

“Hah!” he panted, dropping the hedgehog and grabbing the wolf, who howled. Flipping it aside, he picked up the laughing monkey, the Frisbee, the chirping ball, the bellowing moose, tossing out every single toy in the basket and running from one to the other, biting them, so as to keep his wildlife chorus going. Quacks, howls, barks, neighs, and squeals pealed around us. I fell to my hands and knees, laughing.

Pukka’s eyes lit with joy: I really did want to play! He began to dash in mad circles around me, scooping up his toys and flinging them at me, his tail helicoptering.

Sitting upright, I held my belly, and he skidded to a stop before me. Placing his paws upon my shoulders, he looked me in the eyes. “See,” he grinned, “there really was enough time to play.” Then he licked me on the mouth, just once, sealing our deal.

Laughing, I shook my head in wonder. How many other animals will so consistently play with a member of another species? And then I shook my head wistfully, despite Pukka’s young age. Why should these humorous, tender, and congenial spirits be granted such short lives when the standoffish grizzly bear lives into its twenties and many a cranky parrot into its seventies? Why has nature decreed that our friendly dogs are already ancient in their teens while giving the unhuggable tortoise more than a century of life and some whales two hundred years to swim through the polar seas?

Excerpted from PUKKA'S PROMISE by Ted Kerasote. Reprinted with permission by Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. Copyright (c) Ted Kerasote, 2013.

About the Author: Ted Kerasote is the author of several books, including the national bestseller Merle’s Door: Lessons from a Freethinking Dog and Out There, which won the National Outdoor Book Award. His essays and photographs have appeared in Audubon, Geo, Outside, Science, the New York Times, and more than sixty other periodicals. He lives in Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Visit Ted's website and Facebook page to learn more.

GIVEAWAY!  The folks at Houghton Mifflin Harcourt are allowing us to give away a copy of Pukka's Promise to one lucky reader! To enter:

~ Follow Lapdog Creations publicly (see "Followers" on the side bar) 

~ Leave a comment below telling us why you want to win a copy.

To be eligible to win, you must complete both steps above. Please be sure your entry includes a way to contact you (i.e. link to your blog or include your email address).  You can get extra entries by sending your friends here to enter (be sure to have them mention your name).... blog, Tweet, Facebook and text away!

Winner will be selected by random number generator. Deadline for entries is Monday, March 4th at 11:59pm EST (midnight)

Disclaimer: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt sent Lapdog Creations a complimentary copy of Pukka's Promise for review purposes and is also providing our contest winner with a free copy. I was not compensated for this review. All opinions expressed in the review are my own.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Black & White Sunday: Lola Update

Happy Daytona 500 / Snow Day / Sick Day / Black and White Sunday.  I've been sick all weekend and it just plain sucks.  I'm not good at being sick... lazy weekends, sure, but not sick weekends.  


The good news is Lola seems to be feeling better... and continues to ask for more treats (or just about any food she can get her paws on).  That's her "For Me?" look above... and no, I can not resist. 

We had a check up with our awesome vet, Dr C on Thursday.  I was really worried that we would put her on the scale and find out she lost more weight, but much to my surprise, she had gained almost a full pound!  It doesn't sound like much, but after loosing 8 pounds of muscle mass and looking so boney, I'll take it.  I asked Dr C if we should think about adding more protein to her diet, either in the form of a supplement or pieces of chicken/fish.  She didn't think we should go that route, but instead add canned puppy food to her kibble.  We started doing that yesterday.


The other great news is Dr C decreased Lola's prednisone again!!!  We're now down to 10mg, twice a day.  (For those who haven't followed, we started this ordeal at 30mg, twice a day) She's been having a real hard time getting up on the couches for the past couple weeks and today, she's done it all by herself several times... so I think things are beginning to look up.

It's been a snowy day here, so we'll leave you with a shot of the big flakes... enjoy the rest of your Sunday-Funday!


Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Coffee, Chocolate and Snow... Oh My!

Time to get Wordless again... it's been a snowy week in New England!

Good Morning! #coffee #snow

Beauteous! Happy Valentine's Day! #flowers #love #colorful

Winter Wonderland... it's snowing again. #newengland #snow #manchvegas #winter

My mousers got me mice for Valentine's Day! #love #dogstagram #happy
My mousers got me chocolate mice for Valentine's Day!

Good Snowy Morning! #snow #winter #newengland

Made the man's favorite #breakfast Bacon, Egg & Toast Cups. #bacon #pinterest #sodelicious #yumo
Sunday Breakfast... Pinterest style!

Snow falling again this morning...and bbbbrrrrr! It's COLD out there!

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Seeing Stars...

Sure, it is so last week was a few days ago, but we hope everyone had a fun Valentine's Day!  Did you include your pups in the yummy treats and celebrations? 

Zeus_21413 Sophie_21413

This year, I visited a different chocolate shop than usual to pick up treats and was more than pleased when I saw their signs for Kanine Kookies.  I was hoping to pick up some nice bones or heart shape treats, but at 11:30 am on Valentine's Day, they were already sold out!  The only pup treats they had left were small cranberry stars.

Lola_21413 Tut_21413

No one seemed to mind the size of the treats, and from all the stares and drooling, I'm guessing they were as yummy as the human treats I picked up as well!

LolaTut_21413 Zeus_21413b

You may have caught yesterday's post about the mischief that went on after the treats were had. You see, there was this big, pretty bow on the big box of chocolates Matt got for me... and you know what that means for my girls, right?

Sophie was the first victim and she was none too pleased with my antics...

Sophie_21413b Sophie_21413e

Then it was Miss Lola's turn.  She's old enough to know just to suck it up and let Mama snap a few pictures before flinging the silly thing off her head...

Lola_21413b Lola_21413c

We hope you all had a festive Valentine's as well!  Today is the Lapdog's Grampy's (aka my Dad) birthday.  Will you join us in wishing him a happy one?  With some help from my Mom who scanned in a bunch of old pictures for me, I was able to make a really fun and unique card at Treat.  What do you think?

Had fun making my Dad's birthday card at #Treat this year!

Next up.... Green Beer Day!

Monday, February 18, 2013

Monday Mischief: A WEEK Full of Mischief

Happy President's Day!  The Lapdogs hope all of the humans are home from work enjoying a nice day of mischief with their pooches.

We've had lots of snow over the past week... first the 2+ feet from Nemo, then what seems like daily mini storms of 2 - 3 inches each.  Toss in some warm days (40 degrees) with freezing temps overnight, and you can imagine the mischief this causes on the roads.  One day last week, someone missed the STOP sign and ended up finding our neighbors trees.  It wasn't serious, but they had to be towed out and the hooey hounds took it upon themselves to supervise from our living room window....

Someone apparently missed the STOP sign and thought our neighbor's trees were the road. Tut & Sophie are keeping an eye on the scene....

They did a good job watching the scene, don't ya think?

Lola and Sophie had to endure the human's mischief on Valentine's Day...

Valentine Lola
Sophie is SO over Valentine's Day...

Yes, that's the fancy-schmancy bow from Mama's box of chocolates.  Personally, I think it looks very chic, but I don't think my girls would agree.  As you can see, Sophie was so over Valentine's Day.  Oh the horror!

Lately, every time I try to do this...

Snowed in = good excuse to cast on with a skein of #BigganYarns for a #review   #knitting #knitstagram #handmade #Blizzard2013 #Nemo

This happens...

Cuddly, Smiley LapHound... #dogstagram #adoptdontshop #rescue #hound #lapdog #happydog #love

Which means despite a lot of lazy days "snow days" at home, there hasnt' been a whole heck of a lot of knitting progress going on.  However, the project you see above was actually cast on to review the yarn from Biggan Design... so stay tuned!


TouchofScentKitGIVEAWAY WINNER! Touch of Scent

Thank you to everyone who entered to win a Touch of Scent Single Room Kit! The winner was drawn by Random Number Generator...

Here are your random numbers:  4

Congrats to Marjie!  We hope you enjoy your new air freshener kit!

Stay tuned for more reviews and giveaways coming soon, including Go Dog Dragons, Knitter's Pride notions, Brew Buddies dog treats, Biggan Design yarn, Spoiled Rotten boxes, and more!

Sunday, February 17, 2013

Black & White Sunday: More White Stuff

It's another snowy weekend here in New England, although nothing like the blizzard we had last weekend!  Happy Sunday everyone... we hope you're enjoying some R 'n R on this long weekend!  We're working on a few reviews and hoping this blustery wind doesn't knock out the power...






Friday, February 15, 2013

REVIEW: Merrick Love Potion #9

Merrick Love Potion #9

Where to Find: Merrick Pet Care

MerrickLovePotionB MerrickLovePotion_LolaTut_12213

The Lapdogs were dancing wagging for joy when they found out they were hand-picked to try the limited edition Love Potion #9 from Merrick Pet Care

Check out our Love Potion #9 #review on Friday! #merrick #dogfoodNo longer just a fun song, Love Potion #9 is an all new, grain-free recipe designed for all life stages and breeds.  Made with real, wholesome beef, sweet potatoes, zucchini and tomatoes, the Lapdogs say it's just as tasty as the name would imply! 

The only drawback?  Love Potion #9 is part of Merrick's seasonal canned food collection, which means it's - sadly - only available for a limited time.  Although the Lapdogs received two cans to enjoy, they've made it clear that Mama had better go find some more at the store before it flies off the shelves.

Lola suggests you waste no time and grab a can or two of Love Potion #9 for the puppy love of your life today!  She promises you will receive lots of tail wags and sloppy kisses!

Disclosure: Merrick Pet Care sent two cans of Love Potion #9 to Lapdog Creations, free of charge for review purposes. I was not compensated for this review and all opinions expressed are my own.

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