". . .'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. . ."

People. I apologize for taking so long to write, but you see, extremely dramatic events have taken place since we last spoke. My Henrietta, my beloved, has left me.  She was taken from me in a traumatic violent turn of events, and I can't even let my mind go to the place where she must have been when it all occurred. I know here in the states people are innocent until proven guilty, and I'm trying my best to be the good dog I am, but I will not rest until I find the killer. I have the top authorities investigating the case as we speak. Nothing is too good for my bumpy skinned love. It was as though she always had goose bumps for me when I walked into the room.  I'll never forget the way my rough tongue felt against her large talons. Now, I am sworn under oath not to divulge too much of the investigation, but here are a few photos that have been released to the press. I'll let you be the jury. I already have my suspicions.

EXHIBIT A:
A photo of Henrietta's last surgery post op. They had to remove her trachea due to overuse, and while she was under anesthesia, they also performed liposuction. I told her that extra cushion just meant more to love, but she said it was something she needed to do to feel comfortable in her bikini again.  We also embarked on a new journey, the amazing world of Sign language. Due to the fact that Henrietta never had hands, she became skilled at the art of ASL using her feet. The language of love is universal.

EXHIBIT B:
After walkies with the Momma, we returned home to one of Henrietta's Talons on the floor. Now, I know she was fighting gangrene for quite a while, but there was just something I didn't trust in Rigsby's eyes as we attempted to reattach it. The strands of hair are being sent to the lab for further investigation.

EXHIBIT C:
*Disclaimer- the following photos and information are for mature audiences only. What you are about to see may be graphic in nature and may not be suitable for all audiences. Viewer discretion is advised.*
The following photo's were taken by professional investigators in my home the day my beloved chick went to her final resting place

EXHIBIT D:
My brother, with one of Henrietta's most favorite attributes. He says he was just helping clean up the scene of the crime before I got home, but I think I see some drool coming out of his mouth. . .

EXHIBIT E:

EXHIBIT F:
Morgue shot. When I had to identify her remains.

EXHIBIT G:

EXHIBIT H:
It kills me to look at this. She was found right by the back door, as if she was trying to flee. I will not comment whether I think it's a coincidence that Rigsby is next to her chalk outline the police traced on the floor. . .My poor, sweet sticky buns.

She was a good chick. And a fighter. Her body failed her, but her soul clucks within me forever.

Hoarding: Buried Alive- "Rigsby"

On the next episode of "Hoarding: Buried Alive" we meet Rigsby, who has an uncontrollable compulsion to accumulate and store excessive amounts of toys in his bed. His brother Bojie called us in for professional help, as it's made every day existence unbearable.

In a response to why he hoards, Rigsby comments "It's not a an object, it's a memory. Each and every toy holds a memory for me. Throwing them out would be a waste". As we walked around his home, we saw the hoarding only continued in every room of his house.
The bedroom:

"Ever since my mother rejected me as a baby, I've felt the need to hold on to things, I think this was the turning point for me, that made me begin to hoard" said Rigsby as we walked through what used to be his living room.

"If I see it, and I want it, I go and spend. I don't think of the consequences after the fact, I go in to buy one toy, and I come out with five."
Bojie's room is the only space in the home, where he can find respite from the accumulation of "stuff"

"I don't know how much longer I can take this Rigsby, it's embarrassing. I can't even have my friends over, because there's no place for us to sit. You need to confront the fact that you have a problem. Lets start with piles, of keep, throw out, and give away". Rigsby agreed, but after the job was over. The only pile that remained, was "keep".

"I can't even bear to talk to you anymore Rigsby. This obsession is out of control"

"I know I have a problem, it's overwhelming, most people would never know it from just looking at me if you met me on the street"
"WE CAN'T LIVE LIKE THIS ANYMORE! You NEED to start hearing what I'm telling you, really hear me. Not just listen anymore, hear what I'm saying, and MAKE A CHANGE! There's no room for me to even sleep here anymore! I'm better off sleeping in the car."

"Sometimes, I just feel like a homeless man, with a house."

__________________

Chewing the fat. . .

My bestest friend Nanook and I are with each other through thick and thin. Literally. Nookens was fighting the battle of the buldge last year, and I was right by his side. He made a very inspirational video that you all should see if you haven't already. Actually two of them. (All of these videos are best viewed in large screen format on YouTube- to ensure you can read all the hilarious commentary). To mark his one year anniversary (approximate) of keeping his weight off and then some, this post is dedicated to him. No one wears a Landseer coat like my sweet Nookinator. 

I just so happen to make a cameo appearance in this video of his. 

After seeing this video, I had to do something to let him know how much I support him. I made this in response to his weight loss efforts, my blog isn't interested in posting my video in a version with my comments, so please click on the direct link below, so you can hear my thoughts on the matter (it will also enable you to see my big beautiful meathead up close and personal):

Direct Link- Click here for the direct link to YouTube

Keep up the good work Nooks! But always remember, I'll hump you no matter what you look like! Big licks, your buddy Bojie

Henrietta. Tough love. The life of an emotionally scarred chicken, and the Newfoundland who saved her.

The following is an article written about Bojie from a very talented author *wink*: 


Tough love beneficial? I think not. Living with Henrietta the chicken, shows the truth when it comes to matters of the heart. 

When we first found Henrietta wondering in a countryside store in NJ, she seemed, broken, beaten, defeated. Through her eyes, Bojie and I saw straight to her soul, and we knew we needed to save her. She didn't speak much, or at all for that matter, when we asked her how she ended up in NJ after living the life of retirement in Fort Lauderdale, FL. Whatever it was, had hurt her deeply, to her core, and was too humiliating to divulge. We knew, after doing some research, a bit of her history: Raised on a quaint little chicken farm in America's heartland, Henrietta showed a flair for performing at an early age. As an adult, she moved to Las Vegas with dreams of fame and fortune. She quickly took the town by storm and was cast as a genuine Vegas Showgirl. During her twenty year career shes danced in numerous shows and even headlined the infamous burlesque show Wild Chicken. Unwillingly, due to body restraints, and gravity taking over, she retired, and Henrietta lived a quiet life, far from the Vegas footlights, in a swanky trailer park near Fort Lauderdale. 

We immediately showered her with unconditional love. Bojie would not allow her to get to far without caressing her with his rough tongue. While doing so, he repeated over and over to her, that she is too good of a chicken to live that kind of life. 


Oh, don't get me wrong, Henrietta wasn't that kind of girl...I'll never forget the wincing shrill of her screams she makes if Bojie squeezes her too hard, they mimicked those she made after she found out that Bojie had spent Christmas with another woman. A turtle no less. They'll forever ring in my ears. Sure he's "slipped" in the past, but it was a Christmas party, and someone spiked the kibble, all that he knows of that night was captured in this photo, in his right mind he'd never sway:


It's not that he ever meant to hurt her, it's just that he loves her that much. The two became inseparable, and their friendship soon blossomed into a great love affair. At first, it was difficult for me to accept, but he's my son, and she makes him happy, so I've supported them as much as I can, and always make sure that she's included in our plans. She's come on trips with us all over the country, and to be honest, she's really grown on me. She's also grown emotionally. By leaps and bounds. From an emotionally scarred chicken, to a hen of entitlement, one of sass. She'd totally look people straight in the eye, if she still had hers...which, leads me to the point of my story....

Henrietta felt that she had to keep improving her looks for Bojie. As he was growing into a more handsome, debonair dog, her body began failing her. All the love he was showing her, really took its toll, and she felt no other option than to enter the tainted world of plastic surgery.
Exhibit A: The difference 3 years can make:


In her three years here, Henrietta has received, a brow lift, a combectomy, multiple beak injections which resulted in a beakectomy, a wattleectomy, and thryoidectomy. These multiple surgeries, resulted in a complete decapitation, which I had to perform on an emergent basis at home. Thank God for my medical background. I've managed to save her voice box, and her large talons are still intact. I know she has plans for other augmentations in the future. Bojie and I have been working desperately to stop this obsession before it's too late. 

When I attempted to interview Bojie on his opinion of Henriettas obsession which has rapidly turned into her demise, he just turned, looked away, and said, "I love my chick unconditionally. As for my stand on plastic surgery, no comment."

Here's RIGSBY!

Guys, I don't know what the heck has happened to the mamma, but she's flipped her lid. First, she gets me a papa. I thought that was cool, until I had to leave all my friends and my most favorite Landseer humping butt in NJ, and move across country! I finally settled in, fell in love with my Papa (my momma thinks I love him more than I love her), learned how to rescue people from drowning, learned how to woof the word Colorado, love the weather, but they put me in the car again, and I thought we were going back to NJ judging by how far we were driving. We pulled into a driveway where I started smelling all these familiar smells, but I couldn't remember how I knew them. And, then! I was so happy! I got to see my fairy Grandmother! She was the best Grandmother ever! She fed me, and gave me water, and baths, and loved me so much, and I remember she told me I'd see her again soon when she gave me to my Mamma, but I didn't realize this was the day! Everything was going so great, but guys, we ended up coming home with this, he's something they're calling "my little brother" I don't even care if I get punished for giving my mom the finger so many times on the ride home. They deserve it. Introducing Bee Creeks State of the Union, "Rigsby":
I'm really not thrilled. But my mom told me to "sit and stay" pfff!

The kid started to growing on me, as we started to drive...and I've got to give him credit, he respected his elder, he earned his right to be close to me.



Then he felt like it was OK to let me know I had something hanging out of my mouth, this tiny little voice said, "Excuse me sir? I hate to bother you, but you've got something hanging from your lip"...we're not there yet kid. Hasn't anyone ever seen a flogger before!?

When I said he was growing on me. I meant it literally:

This is me, performing mental telepathy. I'm telling my mom how AWESOME and tolerant I'm being so that I can move her hand to the treat bag for a well deserved cookie

Someday, that pillows going to be too small for him. He doesn't even know it! Enjoy your flat Stanley days while you got em kid! Before you know it you won't be able to fit under the table!

Me and Rigsby. By the way, we're full cousins even though we're legally brothers. Good looks run in the family. 

Family Portrait

Riggs and MY papa. They're madly in love. It makes me want to toss my kibble. 

Rigsby's first sunrise (after we spent the night in a rest stop and EVERYONE had to come into the back to sleep with ME! on MY bed (I'm a little grumpy about it)



And people. It's not just me I'm worried about...this does not bode well for the dogs of war:

I have to admit. His belly is really cute. Obligatory puppy belly shot:

Do Newfoundland dogs shed?

Do Newfoundlands shed?

No. Absolutely not. I have no idea what you're talking about.

In chronological order- the birth of our dear friend, Harry.

March 2008
Please give a warm welcome to my spawn, we call him Harry, he's great, really quiet, and goes wherever I go. . .:
(*disclaimer: Harry, what we affectionately refer to my undercoat as,  was obtained here within 30 minutes of brushing, no shears were used in the making of Harry. He found his new home, in the safety of the woods in our backyard, which hopefully turned into a birds nest...Here I am in this photo behind him, refusing to look at the camera, Harry front bottom right WARNING: Harry is much larger than he appears-there was more of him scattered inside the house:


September 2008. Harry returns! After a long summer apart, Harry stops by for a visit. He must've been exercising over the last 6 months, he looks much more defined than his last visit:

Here I am, spring of 2009. I was two years old here and my good friend Harry came back for a visit. With his entire family! Harry was one busy boy since we saw him last.

Which brings us to the present day. April 2011. Harry found us you guys, all the way in Colorado. However, it appears he's gone back up to the buffet line one to many times. . .he's freaking humongous. 

I love having a new yard. . .

All the Momma could talk about was how important it was that I have a yard in my new home, and how I'd LOVE it so very much. Well, let me tell you something people. I didn't. And, I don't. My momma has walked with me since I was a tiny baby on an umbilical cord from the day she picked me up at my fairy Grandmothers house in Illinois. Why, on earth would she think I'd break out into the "Lord of the dance"*(click here to see what I'm talking about)* at the sight of my very own yard? I don't like being out there without her for a lot of reasons. Mostly because I'm pretty sure she's eating something especially delicious when I'm outside and she's inside, and I would like a bite, if that's what she's doing. Also, because she really is great company. Who wants to lay in the grass all by themselves? That's no fun! She plays with me, and pets me, and makes up amazing songs about me, and dances for me. Also, I get TONS of attention when we walk on my umbilical cord. People love me! And I love to be loved! There are no adoring fans in my back yard. Just weird looking furry things that chomp on acorns who aren't even fun to chase. Nuts!?! They don't even have good taste in food! I prefer deer, and bunnies, and very small dogs. Anyway, I get to my new house, and my people start making a HUGE scene about my back yard to me. It was ridiculous. But, I got the last laugh. I always do.

*I'm certain you know what Lord of the Dance is- since I as a dog do, but that dude has crazy feet, and we can all use a second look once in a while.*

Movin on up!

I had tons of friends in NJ, some even lived right next door. I was living a great life. But then one day, my mom hung this sign around my neck, and I was sitting next to a UHaul, and then driving across the country.

The drive wasn't bad. I got to sleep for about 30 hours, which was great, and I had more room in the car than my humans did! If I had to do it again, the only thing I'd do differently is make sure we drove through Nebraska at night.

Then finally I smelled the most delicious thing ever! We got out of the car, and my nostrils were flaring trying to take in the scent! Buffalo! Colorado is filled with Buffalo! My most favorite kind of bone to gnaw on! In fact in the photo above, you can see a piece of one of my bones next to me. Nom Nom NOM!

 In the photo above, there are real live buffalo right next to me! I was really practicing a lot of self restraint here, I'm trained really well, so it wasn't too hard. BUT STILL! Mmmmm! Buffalo! Colorado is fantastic! There are mountains, and elk, and BUFFALO everywhere! And SNOW! My favorite! Anytime I want, I can play in it.

Things were going just fine, until. . .Rigsby came along.  But more on that later. First, more about ME!

A lot about ME!

I don't want to back peddle to much, but a few extra posts to get us started is what I'll have to do in order to make you love us. The truth is, this blog is way overdue. What is most important for you all to know, is that I was first. Also, I'm the best. Rigsby only came a long a few months ago. But it's only because I am so perfect, they wanted to replicate me. Let me fill you guys in on something, I'm one of a kind. Sure he's my brother, and technically officially my real cousin. But you know what? My grandpa liked me better. SO! Without further ado, a little about me! Bojie!

Photo courtesy of Sandra Nicholson

I lived in NJ since I was 10 weeks old, before moving out West, and I really liked it.  I'm a true Yankee at heart.

The momma and I worked really hard on a lot of important things while we lived there. I became a certified therapy dog, and we would visit people who needed me most a few times a week. I got really used to visiting hospitals, nursing homes, and schools for children with special needs. I loved walking into one of my special places that I visited and having people waiting to see me, and asking for me. After giving licks out to my usual friends, sometimes I could pick out someone who needed me most, and I would go and sit by them. I'd listen really hard to their hearts, and I'd choose the very loneliest and scared. The momma sometimes didn't know how I knew so well, but we Newfs are special, and I knew where I was needed most.  I just so happen to be the perfect height to visit bed bound patients. Some of my poor friends never got ANY visitors but ME! Can you believe that?! It really made me sad. So, I'd stay extra long and make sure I stretched my neck as far as I could so that their hands could reach my head to feel my fur, and allow me to lick their hands and give them their first kisses that they had in years.

We also did a lot of fun obedience stuff in NJ, that added letters after my name and got me something called titles, but to me being a therapy dog is my most important job.

 One of the hardest things about leaving NJ, was leaving my very best friend. His name is Nanook and I love him. No, I'm serious guys. I loooove him. Normally I'm a very laid back goofy Newf, but the momma says when I hang around Nanook, I begin to look like Jack Nicholson in the movie the Shining, when he has his, "here's Johnny" face on. Whatever that means. 

Nooks is just a few inches away from me in this photo.

see the resemblance?

Nookens also has a brother named Pooka, who I really didn't like too much at first because I thought he was taking my beloved Nookinator away from me, but you know what? He's kind of like a brother to me now too. You'll probably hear a lot about these guys, so I figured I should introduce them early on.

Pooka, Bojie, and Nanook 

If you really want to know what my life has been like, here's a sneak peek:

I had a really great life back in New Jersey, but then all of the sudden my mom told me we were moving and a lot changed, Rigsby will probably want to butt in here a few times, but I'm going to do my best to keep control over this blog. Besides, at 7 months old, I'm not even sure he knows how to spell yet. Anyway, there's a lot more you need to know before he came into the picture.