A Dog's Journal as told by 'Chance' Cates, an approximately seven-year old (mostly) German Shepherd dog of considerable skills. How this came to be is explained by Chance himself. To wit:

MY LIFE
by
CHANCE

You're probably wondering how a dog could have a journal, write it down and all that kind of thing. Well, here's the secret. We dictate through channeling. Now, there are not many people who can channel a dog. Bill (my car driver) can't, except when he's sleeping. I send him all kinds of messages late at night and he gets out of his bed and goes to his computer and starts punching the keys. I have to be sleeping close by in order to do this and I sleep in a bed right in the same room with Bill. Some dogs claim they can dictate at a distance. I can't do that and I'm not sure those dogs aren't just making it up. You know how dogs will brag. When he's awake Bill is too busy fussing about one thing or another to tune into me like he can at night when he's snoozing.

SOMETHING NEW
TO CHEW OVER

I was telling my friend Jake who lives next door with his car drivers about something I'd heard Bill say the other day. Bill says a lot of stuff, most of it not worth repeating. But this really got under my collar and I had to get it out. Jake's a good listener. He's got a good take on car drivers and just growling to him makes me feel better.

I heard Bill telling some of his friends that he read in a newspaper that border collies are the smartest dogs of all the dog breeds. Well, excuse me. I think that's a good example of the dangers car drivers face by reading rather than relying on experience. I mean, I've met some smart border collies but I've met some ditzy ones too. All those dogs wanna bark about is frisbees, frisbees, frisbees. Like what smart dog gives a cat's tail about frisbees?

Then Bill said that poodles are the next smartest dog. When I told Jake that he looked at me like I couldn't find the bones I had just buried. He didn't believe it. And for good reason. Any dog that would put up with that kind of a fur-cut has got to be totally vacant. Has any dog ever seen a seeing-eye poodle? I said to Jake. I ask you. Jake just rolled his eyes and shook his head.

That dog news didn't bother him like it got to me. Sometimes Jake gets into this cosmic shift where nothing seems to matter one way or the other and maybe that's where his head was. He says he goes cosmic because of his vegetarian diet but I'm not sure about that because I've seen Jake scarf a whole gopher and get into a real state of bliss. Maybe he didn't have time to digest it.

Bill said labs like Jake are in the top ten. Well Jake is smart. He knows dog stuff as good as any dog I've ever met. But he's cool. He doesn't make a big deal over it. He saves his energy by not wagging his tail all the time and he rarely digs in flowerbeds.

I'm a shepherd and we made the top ten list, too, according to what I heard Bill say. Big diggin deal. Made the top ten out of a hundred. We should be at the top of the list. Whoever came up with that list drives a car for the wrong dog.

Look, I'm a moody dog. No doubt about that. And I let things rattle me. Dogs have a saying - show me your car driver and I'll tell you what you are. Well, no wonder I get hot and scratchy under the collar. Just look at Bill. A real mental pinwheel. I mean talk about moody.

But I feel better now. When I told Jake I heard Bill say some dogs knew up to 250 words, Jake just looked at me and said - "So." I thought he should say more than that but Jake's not a talker. He's a listener and a dog on good one at that.

How it all began with Bill and me. A lot of people don't know this but dogs don't pay a lot of attention to birthdays so I won't even mention mine. I guess that's what happens when you're part of a litter. There's just too many of you to account for and make a big deal over that one day all of you took that first breath. A lot of people ask my car driver, Bill, how old is Chance and he just shrugs and says, "I don't know." He seems to say that a lot anyhow.

When it comes to important days, I think of the day I had my first car ride (other than to the vets) or the day Bill took me over to that field that had all those rabbits. Dog, was that ever fun. There must have been five or six bunnies hopping around. I gave every one of them a good scare. I'm pretty fast on my feet and I could have caught a rabbit or two but they won't run in a straight line. Just about the time I could taste fur they put this little move on me. Do a zig-zag. Squirrels do that too. Makes me so mad but at least I know I scared them.

I moved in with Bill and Gwen one cold day in January 2003. Dogs don't really get into months but this is what I overheard my new friends saying. We think more about seasons. There's the cold and wet season and the hot and dry and then those seasons when it's just right.

They seem like good folks, Bill and Gwen. But I don't like their cats. Bill is kind of moody but he likes to laugh a lot and lets me do pretty much anything I want to do. He also fixes me great meals and I take him for a walk every morning and every evening just before it gets dark. Gwen really likes me but she made me go to dog school. What kind of a friend is that, I ask you?

I don't recall much about my mother or brothers and sisters and I never met my dad. I don't even know who my first car drivers were. I was little and confused and couldn't hold my water like I can now (all night). I also chewed up a lot of stuff because I was nervous. I couldn't help doing things that made people scream at me. Next thing I knew I was living at the Animal Shelter in Santa Maria. Talk about a nightmare! All those dogs barking and barking … and dried food! Doggie pizza we call it, if you can really call that food?

I did have a brief stay with a nice couple before Bill and Gwen. These people rescued me from the Shelter (bless their hearts) to be a companion with their dog Bruin. Well, Bruin and I just didn't hit it off at all. He was already established in their household and he didn't want any puppy moving in on his territory. And I had visions of someday being a top dog so it was never going to work with Bruin and me.

Fortunately, those people happened to go by Tantara winery where Bill was hard at work. At least this is what I heard. Anyhow, while tasting wine with Bill, the topic of dogs came up and Bill said he was looking for a German Shepherd pup. Whoopee. They told him they had this pup (Me) who they had gotten to live with Bruin but it wasn't working out and they were going to take me back to the Animal Shelter.

Later that same day Bill drove up in his pickup truck. I was out playing in the yard. I do remember all of this pretty well. Bill came walking across the street from his truck and I stopped chewing on whatever it was I had in my mouth at the time. Of course, I didn't know who Bill was but I went over to greet him anyway. And peed all over myself when he reached down to pat me.

Bill watched me play for awhile. He was talking to that couple about me. After a bit the guy went into the house and got my things and gave them to Bill who picked me up and carried me over to the pickup truck put me on the front seat. I just have to add that I love that truck. Maybe it's because of how things got started with me and Bill and Gwen. It's also a special place where the cats can't come along.

Which brings me to the matter of those cats, Bacchus and Maeve. If they rode in the pickup truck I would just as soon stay home and chew on the garden hose. It's not that I hate cats, it's just that I think they're creepy and lazy and not into sports. These cats are so spoiled it almost makes me sick. And Bacchus has a real bad attitude. The only good thing I can say about him is that he can catch mice and gophers and he doesn't mind sharing them with me.

Some of these gophers he catches are pretty big. Don't know how he gets them through his cat flap but he does. His favorite place to chew them up is on the floor in the dining room which makes sense because that's where everybody likes to eat. For some reason, Gwen doesn't like to see gopher leftovers on the dinning room floor.

Bacchus caught a little bitty mouse the other night and I got it from him and put it in my bed. I chewed on it for awhile and forgot it was there and when I woke up the next morning I was laying right on top of it. Bill didn't think much of that mouse being in the bed with me. He took my little mouse off somewhere and then he pulled the cover off my bed and washed it. Humans just don't understand some of the smells we like and that mouse was just beginning to get interesting.

The other cat, Maeve, doesn't pay much attention to me. I tried to scare her when I first moved in but she just hissed at me and turned a walked away. She had a bad injury to her leg and was hobbling around which made me want to chase her all the more. Bill yelled at me a couple of times for poking my nose around Maeve.

What really gets to me is that those cats jump right in bed with Bill and Gwen. And make themselves comfortable the way cats always want to do. Comfort, that's all cats want. I don't know why Bill and Gwen let those cats sleep in the same bed with them?

Something I've learned lately is that when the suitcases come out times are going to get tough. I saw Bill and Gwen putting their clothes into a suitcase but I didn't realize until too late what that was all about. They went off and left me. Well, they did take me over to stay with Callie and she is one of my best friends and she smells real good. Callie does get annoyed with me sometimes. I love the way she can snarl and pull her lips back over her teeth. Someday I might have to learn how to do that. Anyhow, Bill and Gwen left me for fourteen feedings. They're back now and we are back home. And the cats are still here! Just like nothing had happened!

I got to play with two new dogs today, Greta and Judy. Actually, I've met them before at the beach but we were all busy chasing things. Greta smells good. I'm not so sure about Judy. Speaking of playing, I've got a great pal next door, a puppy -- yeah, a puppy, he's younger than me -- named, Jake. Jake smells good and he has some great chew toys. We have a swell time rolling around gnawing on each other. Jake has to deal with cats at this house too. I don't know if it bothers him and much as it does me. We never discuss the subject. Why bring up something as bad as cats. Jake is a Lab and I always hated Labs back at the shelter. I guess it was because of all the ga-ga stuff when people would come around looking for a puppy. They always made such a big deal over Lab puppies. I hate 'em and most of them are as dumb as mud. Jake's not dumb but he is crazy. I mean he'll eat anything but I still like hanging out with him. One day Jake found an old dead squirrel that I thought we'd be happy just rolling on it but not Jake. He took it home and ate the whole thing. Don't get me wrong, I like to nibble some stuff here and there that makes Bill yell at me, but I could never eat an old dead squirrel, at least not as fast as Jake did.

Yesterday, I did something really stupid. I jumped out of the back of Bill's pickup truck while it was still moving. There were some animals they call "deer" that were in the road and I got pretty worked up and decided to root 'em out, so overboard I went. That was a long way down. It hurt. And then Bill drove off and left me so I had to run a long way to catch up with him. I'll never do that again.

Big weekend. Greta and Judy over for the night. Coby, the new dog, came over to join us for the day. I got to clean up the food Greta left. Judy left me a little too before she went off to poke her nose down gopher holes. She's just goofy about doing that. Hard to understand just standing there for hours sniffing a gofer hole. Sometimes she starts digging real fast then stops and sniffs some more.

I always have mixed feeling when Bill and Gwen go out to dinner. That means, of course, that I have to stay here and look after the place … which is okay. I mean, it's kind of cool being in charge here and I've got a special tree I get under where I can keep my eyes on everything. But I don't get to take my late afternoon walk with Bill and that's a big deal in my book. On the other paw, Bill always brings me treats from dinner. Like, tonight, he brought me some duck scraps. I'm here to tell you, if you've never had duck scraps you're in for a treat. I'm beginning to think duck is just about my favorite thing to eat.

Sometimes, Bill takes me with him to the bank. I usually stay in the car to keep an eye on things. But sometimes I go inside with Bill. He has a friend there named, Keri. And she's the boss. She's also big for a girl person. The first few times she came my way I didn't know what to expect. Bill seems to like her though. He always smiles a lot when he's around Keri. I've got her pretty much trained now to fetch me some dog biscuits when I show up. So every time I see her, I just give her that special look I can do and she gets me two or three dog biscuits. They're those Milk Bones which are actually pretty good. I used to hear the other dogs at the shelter gripping about them saying they didn't have enough flavor. But they're crunchy. Every so often I give Keri a little kiss just to keep her happy. I don't do it too much because I know she's committed to a couple of other dogs. And I don't want to make Bill jealous.

Gwen had an art show today in her studio. Lot of cars coming in the driveway gave me an opportunity to do some big time barking. I let every one of those cars know just what they were up against when they come into my territory.

I don't know how other dogs feel about it but for me a day without a car ride is like a day without food. I love to feel the wind in my face, to snap at cars and trucks as they blaze past us, to growl big-time at every dog I see along the way.

I can't believe it but they got another kitten!!!!! Why? They can't give me enough attention as it is. This one is such a runt. Bite size. At least it's a female. And she is cute because she's white and orange and black.

My pal Coby moved to Utah according to Bill. Coby is that big goofy, overly friendly German Shepherd that lives with Trevor and her brood of restless young ones. Bill told me Coby was going to be leaving but I didn't really get it somehow. I mean, Coby is always leaving to go home after staying with us for awhile. Like he stayed for a week before he left to go to Utah (wherever that is). Bill said, "Tell Coby goodbye because you won't ever see him again." I thought - sure. But then the other day I went with Bill over to Coby's house. Bill had to take some bookshelves over to put on that big truck was sitting in the driveway. I went in the house and dog but it was a mess. Boxes everywhere and furniture wrapped up blankets. And no Coby. I checked all the bushes outside and there was no recent pee to be sniffed. Bill seemed real sad when we left Coby's old house. I was too. I mean, I like Coby but he does want to play all the time. Nothing serious about him. He can't appreciate riding in a car or any of the finer things of life. Just wants to run and chew. That dog is crazy about anything somebody would throw for him. Always bring a tennis ball to Bill to get him to throw it. I can take that retrieving stuff or leave it. If Bill wants to throw the ball I'll run and get it. It makes Bill happy and if I catch the ball on a bounce Bill yells "What a dog!" I like to hear that. But Coby would rather chase a ball than eat. Insane. But he can hold two tennis ball in his mouth. I can't do that.