My babies...

My dogs are my babies - I can't have kids, and never necessarily want them.  Not that children aren't wonderful, and I know I would be a great mom, but you can get in trouble with CPS for leaving your kids in the backyard with a bowl of food when you go to work.  And the bark collars REALLY cause a problem with the authorities...

So here are my "children"...and no, I don't really leave them outside or make them wear bark collars - they are completely spoiled, but never rotten (well, almost never)...

Susan Elizabeth Woogie (The Woogie, or Woog Woogs for short)

She is the 10-year-old "diva"...she was my husband's dog first, and had to make a major adjustment when me and my two dogs moved in five years ago.  She let me know with the sarcastic roll of her eyes exactly where she saw me on the food chain.  Woogie goes to work with my husband every day, and you can see her laughing at the other dogs as she skips out the door.  She is addicted to carbs - God forbid should I walk in with Auntie Anne's pretzels or King's Hawaiian Rolls - she will knock me down and run off with the bag...it's gone before I get off the ground.  Five years later, we all have an understanding...I let her think that she is still the woman of the house, and always let her have her way, and we get along just fine.

Duke (or Duke Skylicker, when he's getting a good ass-scratching)...

Dukie is my big doofus of a dog, he is just a love sponge.  He hasn't met anyone (that we purposely allow in the house anyway) that he doesn't like, is a sucker for his stuffed toys (of which he has at least 30, Pillow Pets being the majority), and can hear a peanut butter M&M being removed from the package a mile away.  I have never seen such a fool for peanut butter M&Ms (Note:  I DO NOT feed my dogs chocolate, so don't get all upset...the peanut butter M&Ms are almost all peanut butter, and in six years he hasn't had any bad reaction to the half-dozen or so he receives each evening...).  Duke was adopted by a friend from the SPCA at six weeks old, and my friend realized about six weeks later that he couldn't care for a puppy.  I originally took him in as a foster until my friend could get his living situation situated, but after a nasty bout with Parvo that should have taken Dukie's life, I knew he was staying with me.  There's nothing like a big old dog head in your lap to relieve stress and depression.

Daisy Boo...there are no words to describe her...

She is part black Lab, part Golden Retriever, part something very short.  Her little legs are about six inches long, but her body is about two feet long...however she has the cutest face ever.  She's now 13-years old, but doesn't show her age at all except for a little bit of gray around her lips.  She's the tattle-tale and the troublemaker, who runs to tell me when the other dogs are misbehaving, yet does things you wouldn't think she could manage (like pull over the trash can) and blame it on the other dogs.  She's smart as a whip and loves harassing the Woogie, and she will be the one who lives to be 20 and keep up her antics the entire time!  She also goes by Twirly-Girly, since she twirls in circles in front of us to let us know she wants out, because she can't reach the bells on the back door knob that the big dogs use to tell us it's potty time.  I got her for free from the folks that had the litter, and she was the runt and going to be put down the next day if no one took her.  She was painfully shy around most people her whole life before we moved in here...she is now a social butterfly, and gives Woogie a run for her money for the "diva" title.

As you might have guessed, none of our dogs have official papers, although two are full-blood black Labs (and we will always have Labs, they are the best dogs ever)...all three were adopted and/or rescued.  Please support your local SPCA and Humane Society - they are great causes!  (Cue the weepy Sarah MacLachlan song here...)