Monthly Archives: October 2013

Howl-o-what?

Leia and Yoda here. We are kind of scared, so we decided to write this blog post together.

You see, our person has been…acting weird. And who ya calling scared, brother?

Let me tell it, Leia.

Hmph!

See, our person has been acting weird. She brought home these things. They smelled like corgi toys, but they weren’t to be played with.

They were, were, were! I was about to chew on the–

No, Leia, they weren’t. They were to be… worn.

You see, Yoda doesn’t like to wear anything. Whenever I wear a Doritos bag on top of my head, he runs away and hides. Or when I wear a mud scarf around my neck and then get to wear shampoo and water… Anyway, as soon as I saw what our person brought, I knew I wanted to wear it right away. I growled at Yoda so he’d know I was claiming it: I wanted to wear the green costume.

Yes, she did. But our person told us that the green costume was for me. But it was too…scary!

Yoda, you’re not very smart. That costume is called a Yoda Costume. That’s why you were supposed to wear it.

But…but…it covered my…ears.

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We couldn’t even try to get the coat on you. You were too scared. But not me. I thought it was fun, fun, fun!

There’s nothing scarier than my ears being covered.

What about foil?

W-what?

Or knocking on a door?

W-what!

Your reflection in a window?

Leia, stop!

Or crinkly dog toys?

No!

That costume was NOT the scariest thing of all. See how pretty I look in it?

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Glad you liked it, then. I thought it was pretty scary.

But you were jealous, too. You were jealous when our person started taking pictures of me. You wanted to join in the fun. See, here’s a picture of you trying to sneak into MY photo session!

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That’s true.

But she said if you were gonna be in the picture, you had to be wearing a costume.

I know.

So then she put the cowgirl hat on you.

CowBOY hat, you mean.

Ha! No. Cow. GIRL. Hat. It was pink. See?

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So?

Everything i have is pink. My pink skull collar. My leash.

So? 

So, that hat was supposed to be for me.

But…

It’s okay. I know that hat is mine just like the Yoda costume is mine, and both our dishes are mine, and all our toys are mine.

What?

After all, you were scared of the hat, too.

Was not. 

Don’t lie, Yoda. I can see in this picture how you can barely hold your head up. 

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That’s because, um, that hat is, um… heavy. 

Heavy, my left paw! 

It was!

I don’t think so. Your head was drooping like that because you were scared, scared, scared!

Well…

And then our person started laughing and felt sorry for you. She took off that hat and put that stupid pumpkin shirt on you. At least your ears stood up for the picture, but I know you were scared. 

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How do you know? 

When our person told you to sit up on the stairs for the picture, you wouldn’t move.

What do you mean? 

You just sat there frozen, like you couldn’t move in that shirt. 

I couldn’t! My muscles froze solid. That shirt is haunted. 

It’s not, Yoda. You’re just a scaredy dog. I can’t believe our person had to LIFT you up onto the stairs while you were wearing that shirt.

Well, at least this Howl-o-ween thing is over. 

Hate to tell you, brother, but it’s not over yet. And after that there are the holidays. You remember, when our people put up the–

Don’t say it!

The TREE. 

No!

And they tear open wrapped gifts. 

No!

And give you all kinds of new toys that you’re terrified of. 

No! We have enough of those. 

Maybe YOU have enough, but I can never get enough of those squeaky–

No!

bouncy–

No!

crinkly–

No!

toys!

Yoda? Yoda, where did you go?

Oh, I see. At the mention of “toys,” Yoda has fled the scene. He’s probably hiding in his little house. Ha! While he’s away, here is a picture of him last holiday season. Our people were putting a tree inside our house, and he was watching from a far distance.

Yoda: This is as close as I get! (Yoda watches from afar as the Christmas Tree is put together and decorated. All season, he gave the tree a wide berth.)

Fraidy-dog Yoda hiding from the tree, of all things!

I was so close, they kept stepping on me. I can’t think of anything more fun, fun, fun! And speaking of scaredy dogs, here is a picture of a corgi-lantern our person made. It’s based on the most cowardly corgi in the universe, aka my brother.

corgilantern

Well, until next time, Leia Corgi signing out. Oh, and remember to send me those peanut butter treats!

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The Creation of the Pen (By Courtney Hollinger)

Courtney, here. If you’ve been following my adventures in Corgi Capers, you’ll know that I’ve been going through some rough times.

But after my Halloween “incident,” I’ve decided to turn over a new leaf. I’m trying to be good. Really, I am. It’s not always easy, but my new friends are helping.

CourtneyfinalAnyway, along with trying to be good, I started doing my homework for a change. It actually isn’t that bad. Learning is kind of interesting (don’t tell my brother I admitted that, okay?). I had to write a short story for English class. We had to write a creation myth to explain the origin of something. Well, I’ve been involved in the play at school, and it’s gotten me thinking about maybe writing my own plays one day. Or maybe movie screenplays. (I would love to live out in Hollywood, and I’m sure Sapphie would, too!)

I wrote an creation myth about the origin of pens, and my teacher practically went nuts over it. She sent a note home—a good one, believe it or not!—to tell my parents what an awesome job I did. I can’t help the fact that the note brought a smile to my face. It sure made Mom and Dad go easy on me for a few days. If you’ll remember, I was basically grounded for life after all that I went through at Halloween.

Anyway, I thought I’d share my super awesome story about how the pen was created. To understand the myth, you have to know what the muses are. They’re these mythological beings that inspire people. You know, like, when you wake up in the middle of the night and have a great idea all of a sudden. Or you’re in the middle of math class and have a great idea for a play!

So here it is, the creation  myth of how the pen was created:

The nine muses lived in the world above the clouds and watched the people below. Calliope, the muse of writing, watched the world become more and more modern. People were writing less and less. Calliope was upset because people were forgetting her. She wasn’t angry—just sad. She thought and thought about what to do to inspire the people below to write. So she invented the ball point pen.

It was just an ordinary piece of plastic, and the other muses mocked her. Undeterred, she summoned all her powers of inspiration and sealed them into a deep blue liquid. She put this liquid into each of the pens and sent them to the world below for distribution. Each pen contained infinite possibilities. Perhaps the net Shakespeare would pick up one of her pens.

As she grew talented at filling the pens, she experimented with different colors and consistencies. Each one she filled with the magic of her inspiration. So the next time you pick up a pen, know that it has been blessed by Calliope, the muse of writing, and has the potential to create anything you can imagine.

A Guest Post from Leia the Mouser

Leia, here. I was all set to brag about my feat this weekend involving a mouse, but my person says it wasn’t nice. She doesn’t know I’m here typing away, so keep it quiet, will ya?

So we were outside. It’s my favorite, favorite, favorite place to be when the weather’s just so, and my person was busy pulling up weeds. I had already eaten all the dirt clumps I felt like, so I needed something else to entertain me. Well, my person was pulling up some vines, and out pops a little black mouse. I’m “quick as a cat,” my person says, and before anyone knew what was happening, I had the mouse trapped under my paw. My person saw and yelled at me very loud.

“Leave it,” she screamed.

I wish I didn’t know what that means, but I do. So I had to let the mouse go.

But I’m not stupid, I tell ya. I knew my person would turn back to her weeding sure enough. She kept watching me, though. Here’s a picture of me at full alert, waiting for that stinkin’ mouse:

Leia on High Alert

Well, sure enough, my person turned back to her gardening. See, I laid down in the grass so my person thought I lost interest. Stupid person. She’s so easy to train. She was trying to pull out an especially tough weed, and I knew it was my chance. I had seen where the mouse went—right into a patch of tall grass. I knew it was only a matter of time before it would try to get away. Well, let’s just say I took advantage of the opportunity.

My person turned around with a handful of weeds and saw me rolling in something. Here’s what she said, very calmly to start off:

“Leia, if you’re rolling in something that stinks, then when we get inside you’re going to get a—Ahhh! Leia, that’s a dead mouse you’re rolling in! Stop that! Stop it now! Leave it! Leave it! Leave it!”

Like I said, I know what “leave it” means, but I could tell my person wasn’t going to come too close. Hearing all the noise, my brother had already run toward the house, and my person was running toward the house, too, saying something about getting a shovel, a towel, and a bottle of soap. I had about forty seconds all to myself, and I made the most of it. I wish my person had taken a picture—she takes a picture of just about everything I do, but she said she didn’t want to get this one on film.

Well, out she comes with her friend, a shovel, a towel, and some soap, and I knew my fun was over.

I tried to go up and say hi to her friend, but he just shook his head and called me a little murderer and a terror!

A terror?

Hmph!

I’d like to see him catch a mouse with his bare paws–err, hands, that is.

Anyway, the mouse was shoveled into a compost bag, the soap was deployed, and I suffered the indignity of getting an outdoor bath—in front of all the neighbors!—with a cold, harsh hose. The nerve!

I showed her. As soon as she finished washing me, I wiped all that nasty water off on a pile of potting soil.

Then I got another bath!

I’m telling you, it just wasn’t worth it.

Just kidding, it was.

Uh oh, my person is coming. You didn’t read this, okay? But if you did happen to read it, and enjoyed it, feel free to send me a cookie. My favorite are peanut butter flavored. My address is Leia Corgi, PO Box—oops, gotta run!

Corgi Capers Updates

The Corgi Move: An Update

Since I last checked in, the corgis were getting adjusted to their new home. Now that they’ve had time to settle in, here is an update.

First, the corgis finally seem like they know this is “home.” It took a while—it was at least two months before they would actually sleep in their beds. Here they are in the bed in my writing office:

corgis in bed

Prior to that, they had to be glued to my feet during every waking hour. Still, they don’t like being alone when I’m home. Every weekend, they wake me up earlier than I get up during the week—just to be able to sleep while I’m downstairs with them. (Either that, or they’re trying to tell me I should be up writing rather than sleeping!). Here’s a picture of Leia just moments after crying pathetically to get me out of bed:

"I wasn't ready to wake up yet. I just didn't want to sleep without you!"

“I wasn’t ready to wake up yet. I just didn’t want to sleep without you!”

Secondly, Yoda, the fraidy-dog, is still—well, afraid. He’s not super bright, and he’s gotten “lost” a few times in the house. We have a double stairway—a front staircase and a back one. Yoda has a habit of sneaking into the dining room, which is gated off on only one door. He sits at the gate, staring into the kitchen, and acts forlorn that he cannot get through the gate. His sister has to run around the long way and “get” him for me.

The other day, he snuck into the dining room, couldn’t figure out how to get back, and ended up going up one staircase, getting “lost” in the upstairs hallway, barking his “distress bark,” and finally finding his way down the back staircase. The house isn’t that big, but like I said—Yoda is good, but not too bright. His favorite activities in the new house include sniffing all the air vents in the floors and rolling his back against the bottom stair in the family room.

There are a few empty boxes I’ve saved because the corgis still love to sleep in them. Here’s a picture of them after a long, hard morning of chasing the green laser around:

"We have a tough life!"

“We have a tough life!”

Leia, on the other hand, has been more mischievous. She is giving Corgi Capers character Sapphie a run for her money. Slowly, Leia has been sneaking upstairs (they aren’t allowed on the second floor of the house to prevent back injuries from excessive stair use) to “mark” each of the rooms upstairs. She only has two left to “mark.” The thing is, she knows she isn’t supposed to pee on the floor, and as soon as she does it, she runs down and claws at me, crying, so that I know she was bad. I guess the dogs that used to live in this house have left their scents, and it must be driving Leia crazy.

One of Leia’s favorite activities is to visit with the frogs and toads that frequent our patio once the sun goes down. Here’s a picture of her with the largest of her buddies:

leia and frog

Their invisible fence training is going well. Scared-y Yoda is terrified of the “warning beep” made by the fence, and he won’t go even halfway to the edge of his boundary. If I go too far, he turns his back to me, sits, and stares at the house. Out of sight, out of mind, I suppose. Leia will test the boundaries all the way up to the “zap.” The beeping warning does not compute in her mind—she doesn’t associate it with the zap. And she has allowed herself to be zapped a few times to chase a deer or two. She seems to be calming down now.

Lots of fodder for Corgi Capers book 3, which is in the works. Because I’m slightly behind schedule, I’m leaving my “name that cat contest” open for a bit longer. Be part of Corgi Capers history and name a human or feline character:

Speaking of which—to encourage more readers to post reviews, I am offering a free Kindle copy of Corgi Capers book 2 for anyone who posts a review of Corgi Capers book 1 on Amazon. To receive your free book, simply email me the URL of your Amazon.com review, using the email address you use to shop on Amazon. I’ll send you a copy of Corgi Capers book 2 in hopes that if you enjoy it, you’ll leave a review for that book as well.

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Thanks for reading. Stay cool, and stay corgi!

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