<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577</id><updated>2012-01-30T03:43:23.225-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tag Tales</title><subtitle type='html'>Chronicles about Tag, the mischievous corgi. Read about his life and everyday adventures.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>35</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-4150654375443453800</id><published>2009-05-03T18:21:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2009-05-03T19:01:39.454-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Day at the Park</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Sf42p6cTQxI/AAAAAAAAARE/rSgwYM2nyxI/s1600-h/016.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331759102543741714" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Sf42p6cTQxI/AAAAAAAAARE/rSgwYM2nyxI/s320/016.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Riley and I got to go on a fun, new adventure today. We go on walks in our neighborhood all the time but today we got to go to the park. As soon as Dad opened the car door to let us out, we were both instantly excited at all the new sights and smells. There were a lot of other dogs at the park today, and of course I had to check them all out. We also met some really nice people on the trail that wanted to pet us, which you know I love! One of them called me short though which I didn't appreciate. ; ) It was a fun trip although it was such a hot day today, especially for someone furry like me. Luckily the trail we walked on had some shade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Sf42qEWiYlI/AAAAAAAAARM/VBWyOqTL_uo/s1600-h/002.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331759105203921490" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Sf42qEWiYlI/AAAAAAAAARM/VBWyOqTL_uo/s320/002.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Of course Mom had to take pictures of us like she always does so here are a couple more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Sf42qbqBfpI/AAAAAAAAARU/jN1acxjdzcM/s1600-h/006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331759111459667602" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Sf42qbqBfpI/AAAAAAAAARU/jN1acxjdzcM/s320/006.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Riley and me taking a water break&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Sf42quNsgPI/AAAAAAAAARc/dhKAOC4X9ac/s1600-h/011.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5331759116441125106" style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; width: 320px; height: 240px; text-align: center;" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Sf42quNsgPI/AAAAAAAAARc/dhKAOC4X9ac/s320/011.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Just chilling in the shade&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-4150654375443453800?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/4150654375443453800/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=4150654375443453800' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/4150654375443453800'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/4150654375443453800'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2009/05/day-at-park.html' title='A Day at the Park'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Sf42p6cTQxI/AAAAAAAAARE/rSgwYM2nyxI/s72-c/016.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-1520278868621041334</id><published>2009-03-01T14:11:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2009-03-01T14:26:47.766-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What's Going on Around Here?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/SarskDBjzwI/AAAAAAAAAQs/seZnQzcy2wI/s1600-h/IMG_3243.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/SarskDBjzwI/AAAAAAAAAQs/seZnQzcy2wI/s320/IMG_3243.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308315214840844034" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a while since I have posted but a lot has been going on in my world. First of all, something weird happened today. When mom opened the door to let Riley and me out this morning, the ground had turned white. And not only was it white but cold, wet and it got stuck in my paws. It took me a while to decide to venture off the deck but after I did it was pretty fun although I still prefer the soft green grass.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Sarskv1jDcI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/kIqt9ob_Lqc/s1600-h/IMG_3246.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Sarskv1jDcI/AAAAAAAAAQ0/kIqt9ob_Lqc/s320/IMG_3246.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308315226870058434" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't think Riley liked it as much as I did though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Sarsk84eOFI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/EZiEjdFoJDs/s1600-h/IMG_3240.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Sarsk84eOFI/AAAAAAAAAQ8/EZiEjdFoJDs/s320/IMG_3240.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5308315230371985490" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something else that's weird around here is that Mom and Dad keep saying the word "baby" a lot. I've heard the word before, mainly when Mom refers to me as her baby, but they keep saying things like, "when the baby gets here" or "that will look nice in the baby's room". I'm getting a little worried that maybe they're getting another puppy or something to replace me as the baby. I'm keeping a close eye out because I don't know if I'm ready for anyone else to move in. I let Riley move in, isn't that enough?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-1520278868621041334?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/1520278868621041334/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=1520278868621041334' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/1520278868621041334'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/1520278868621041334'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2009/03/whats-going-on-around-here.html' title='What&apos;s Going on Around Here?'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/SarskDBjzwI/AAAAAAAAAQs/seZnQzcy2wI/s72-c/IMG_3243.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-6916617385720726474</id><published>2008-10-29T19:36:00.005-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-29T19:54:43.784-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Fun Weekend!</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="text-align: right;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/SQkQJQiO8QI/AAAAAAAAALM/3ekGGlLL69Q/s1600-h/IMG_3035.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/SQkQJQiO8QI/AAAAAAAAALM/3ekGGlLL69Q/s320/IMG_3035.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262755390802555138" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: left;"&gt;Riley and I had such a busy weekend. First we loaded up with mom and dad and went to visit grandma and grandpa. We had so much fun! Grandma plays with us as much as we want and gives us lots of ice to crunch on even though mom tells her not to. We love ice! We got to see so many people this weekend which always makes us excited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we got home, mom and dad had some friends over. They brought their dog, Maggie. Mom was worried that we wouldn't get along with her because we like to be the center of attention, but we liked her a lot! I showed her all around our back yard and we played for hours. It was also nice to finally meet someone shorter than me! I hope she gets to come back again to play with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After everyone left, I was so tired and went right to bed. It was such a long weekend but so much fun for us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/SQkQh-W90sI/AAAAAAAAALU/bm1xQV9z02w/s1600-h/IMG_3038.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/SQkQh-W90sI/AAAAAAAAALU/bm1xQV9z02w/s320/IMG_3038.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262755815420187330" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Our new friend Maggie&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/SQkQ4s60KnI/AAAAAAAAALc/xZAfPx8-F4M/s1600-h/IMG_3043.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/SQkQ4s60KnI/AAAAAAAAALc/xZAfPx8-F4M/s320/IMG_3043.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262756205875702386" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Maggie and Riley waiting to see if anyone would drop any food in the kitchen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-6916617385720726474?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/6916617385720726474/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=6916617385720726474' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/6916617385720726474'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/6916617385720726474'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2008/10/fun-weekend.html' title='A Fun Weekend!'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/SQkQJQiO8QI/AAAAAAAAALM/3ekGGlLL69Q/s72-c/IMG_3035.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-8812485031256870768</id><published>2008-10-21T11:20:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-10-21T11:29:10.524-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Addiction</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/SP4PsUqxfZI/AAAAAAAAAKs/PVwQYiK57fg/s1600-h/tag+fetch.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5259658668952092050" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/SP4PsUqxfZI/AAAAAAAAAKs/PVwQYiK57fg/s320/tag+fetch.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; (Here I am staring at my favorite ball just waiting on Mom to throw it for me. Hurry Mom!)&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;Hi my name is Tag and I'm addicted to playing fetch. Well there, I admitted it. What can I say? It's my most favoritest thing in the whole wide world. Chasing that bouncy little ball across the back yard, jumping and catching it in mid air, and then attacking it. It's a rush I tell you! Mom and Dad just don't understand it. They don't understand why I pace by the back door and whine until they let me out to play. Sometimes, even when I push the ball towards them, they still just laugh at me. They just don't get that I'm a hyper little guy just bursting with energy. I'm cooped up all day while they're at work and when they get home all I ask is for just a few minutes of playing fetch. It's the highlight of my little life. And now that it's getting dark outside earlier, I had better enjoy it while I can because I have a feeling Mom won't be so thrilled about going out when it's cold and dark. I guess there could be worse things to be addicted too afterall.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-8812485031256870768?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/8812485031256870768/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=8812485031256870768' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/8812485031256870768'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/8812485031256870768'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2008/10/addiction.html' title='Addiction'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/SP4PsUqxfZI/AAAAAAAAAKs/PVwQYiK57fg/s72-c/tag+fetch.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-2176090786686235074</id><published>2008-07-30T07:16:00.003-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T10:27:29.969-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Lazy Summer</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/SJBqJBENWhI/AAAAAAAAAKk/znTnTf18xs4/s1600-h/IMG_1824.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228795870514600466" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/SJBqJBENWhI/AAAAAAAAAKk/znTnTf18xs4/s320/IMG_1824.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hi everyone! Hope you're having a great Summer! I sure am but to tell ya the truth, I'm ready for Fall! I have too much fur for this Alabama heat. Riley and I have been pretty lazy this Summer. There's nothing better than stretching out on the cold tile on the kitchen floor after playing ball outside. But all this being lazy has caused me to get a little um, fluffy. Yep, the vet said I'd put on a couple pounds in the past few months. I heard Mom say she's putting me on a diet. Not too sure what that means I don't think I'm going to like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Riley and I did get to go on a trip a couple weeks ago. We went with Mom and Dad to visit our cousins in Mobile. We had so much fun! The girls played with us a lot and took us on a lot of walks in their neighborhood. And you know how much I love exploring new places. They even gave Riley a bath, but not me! haha! Well I guess that's the update on my little life. Be back soon!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-2176090786686235074?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/2176090786686235074/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=2176090786686235074' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/2176090786686235074'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/2176090786686235074'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2008/07/lazy-summer.html' title='Lazy Summer'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/SJBqJBENWhI/AAAAAAAAAKk/znTnTf18xs4/s72-c/IMG_1824.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-5835180995694519070</id><published>2008-05-16T09:34:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-05-16T09:42:55.204-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Long time no see!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/SC2qBwvCbnI/AAAAAAAAAKc/MNuUZrpOSt8/s1600-h/tagswing.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5201000091921575538" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/SC2qBwvCbnI/AAAAAAAAAKc/MNuUZrpOSt8/s320/tagswing.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well hello everyone! It's been a while huh? When you're a busy guy like me, sometimes it's hard to find time to stay caught up on your blog. Let's see what's been going on in my world...First of all, I had another birthday! Yep, I'm two years old now. Doesn't the time fly? Thank goodness mom didn't make me wear a ridiculous hat like she did last year. Hmm, what else. Oh, and I also went on vacation for a week at the vet. Mom and dad were out of town, so Riley and me got a room at the vet's office. And boy did we get pampered; a bath and our nails done. I was looking pretty handsome by the time mom came to pick us up. Also, mom and dad have been destroying our house! Something about a bathroom remodel. Of course you know I have to oversee that. All that hammering and banging makes me nervous so I have to make sure I know what's going on and that everyone's ok. I guess that's about it for me though. I'm just glad the weather is nice and I get to be outside a lot more. I'll try to stay caught up on the blog so keep reading! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-5835180995694519070?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/5835180995694519070/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=5835180995694519070' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/5835180995694519070'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/5835180995694519070'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2008/05/long-time-no-see.html' title='Long time no see!'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/SC2qBwvCbnI/AAAAAAAAAKc/MNuUZrpOSt8/s72-c/tagswing.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-8303650357388603931</id><published>2008-02-20T14:31:00.004-06:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T14:45:48.548-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Digging</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/R7yOOWqVMDI/AAAAAAAAAKM/g73RdpnZO0c/s1600-h/digging.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169162849566928946" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/R7yOOWqVMDI/AAAAAAAAAKM/g73RdpnZO0c/s320/digging.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Yeah, I know I'm not supposed to dig holes in the back yard, but I did it anyway. Mom has probably told me 15,000 times to stop digging holes in the yard, but I just couldn't help it this time. There was something in the ground I just knew I had to see. Besides, Mom shouldn't have left me unattended in the back yard. She wasn't watching so I just dug and dug to my heart's content. Well, then she and Dad caught me and that put an end to all my fun. I never did find what I was looking for in that hole. :( And it got even worse when Dad washed me off with the hose. It was almost like getting a bath...which I hate! I guess that's what I get for not listening to Mom. But at least it was fun while it lasted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/R7yOO2qVMEI/AAAAAAAAAKU/AWsWsb9jaw0/s1600-h/dirty+face.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5169162858156863554" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/R7yOO2qVMEI/AAAAAAAAAKU/AWsWsb9jaw0/s320/dirty+face.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-8303650357388603931?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/8303650357388603931/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=8303650357388603931' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/8303650357388603931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/8303650357388603931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2008/02/digging.html' title='Digging'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/R7yOOWqVMDI/AAAAAAAAAKM/g73RdpnZO0c/s72-c/digging.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-8575392147201757028</id><published>2008-02-11T19:05:00.002-06:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T10:28:20.282-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Spring is almost here!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/R7DxTGqVMAI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/vJ96y03ZQTs/s1600-h/IMG_1821.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5165894083101929474" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/R7DxTGqVMAI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/vJ96y03ZQTs/s320/IMG_1821.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;It's that time of year again. The weather outside is starting to get a bit warmer and I know what that means; playtime for Riley and me. Mom and Dad sure have been nice to let us play outside the past few days. They even threw the ball for me for a really long time. The past few months they haven't wanted to play outside much. They just stand on the deck, wrapped in their coats yelling at us to hurry and come back inside. No time for us to play. They act like it was cold or something. Another thing I love about this time of year is walks! I heard Mom say the other day that we could start taking our long walks around the neighborhood again soon. I got so excited because walks are some of my favorite things. I need to catch up with all the other dogs around the neighborhood. I'm so glad it's finally almost Spring. I can't wait to roll in the green grass, play fetch for hours in the back yard, and drink water right from the water hose. It's my favorite time of year!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-8575392147201757028?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/8575392147201757028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=8575392147201757028' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/8575392147201757028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/8575392147201757028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2008/02/spring-is-almost-here.html' title='Spring is almost here!'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/R7DxTGqVMAI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/vJ96y03ZQTs/s72-c/IMG_1821.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-4479617124356099565</id><published>2008-01-21T12:50:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-01-21T12:59:25.933-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Taking a Cat Nap</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/R5Tp1QLqEEI/AAAAAAAAAJs/zArVNB0vlXQ/s1600-h/IMG_1720.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/R5Tp1QLqEEI/AAAAAAAAAJs/zArVNB0vlXQ/s320/IMG_1720.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5158004574332260418" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Sometimes it's nice to just be lazy. Mom is home today and she hasn't done anything but sit on the sofa with her coffee(which she wouldn't share with me by the way), a blanket, and the computer and be lazy. So that's what Riley and I are doing, too. We all need a little time to just take a nap and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;recuperate&lt;/span&gt; from our busy lives. People should slow down every now and then and just do nothing. Like us, we just flop down wherever we like and take five. Even a little bundle of energy like me has to rest every now and then.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-4479617124356099565?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/4479617124356099565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=4479617124356099565' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/4479617124356099565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/4479617124356099565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2008/01/taking-cat-nap.html' title='Taking a Cat Nap'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/R5Tp1QLqEEI/AAAAAAAAAJs/zArVNB0vlXQ/s72-c/IMG_1720.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-6401960032276447473</id><published>2007-12-26T14:04:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-26T14:15:07.809-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I Did Get Something for Christmas...</title><content type='html'>And so did Riley! My aunt Christy, grandma, and grandpa got Riley and me blankets and our very own stockings with our names on them. Mom said I can't have my blanket til I'm older though 'cause I'll just chew it up (and she's right about that).  I also got a new toy to play with. I really like it and carried it around everywhere with me last night. Also, mom and dad and some friends of theirs got us treats. My favorite! I guess maybe being cute does count for something because I got lots of good stuff for Christmas this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148376271266910242" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/R3K08QLqECI/AAAAAAAAAJc/BPaTM_-Dsq8/s320/blankets.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/R3K08QLqEDI/AAAAAAAAAJk/D2Z_2FNpxoM/s1600-h/Dogs+presents.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5148376271266910258" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/R3K08QLqEDI/AAAAAAAAAJk/D2Z_2FNpxoM/s320/Dogs+presents.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/R3K0XgLqEAI/AAAAAAAAAJM/PA6qC1V2ers/s1600-h/blankets.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/R3K0dQLqEBI/AAAAAAAAAJU/I1rADr0hY_o/s1600-h/Dogs+presents.jpg"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-6401960032276447473?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/6401960032276447473/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=6401960032276447473' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/6401960032276447473'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/6401960032276447473'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-did-get-something-for-christmas.html' title='I Did Get Something for Christmas...'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/R3K08QLqECI/AAAAAAAAAJc/BPaTM_-Dsq8/s72-c/blankets.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-3787380113842434806</id><published>2007-12-07T21:14:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-12-07T21:29:19.067-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I Ain't Gettin' Nuttin' for Christmas</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/R1oMx2o3M2I/AAAAAAAAAJE/YpsTHt0CVHs/s1600-h/IMG_1418.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/R1oMx2o3M2I/AAAAAAAAAJE/YpsTHt0CVHs/s320/IMG_1418.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5141435975216870242" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I heard mom say the other day that I'm not getting anything for Christmas because of the way I've acted this year. Well first of all, I don't know what Christmas is but I'm guessing it has something to do with the shiny tree in the living room that I keep getting in trouble for drinking the water out of. And if it means treats for me, then I think I'm very deserving of something for Christmas. I mean let's see...so I stirred up trouble with the neighbor's dogs by barking at them under the fence. So I chewed on the dresser a little...and the brick mold around the back door... and I destroyed a couple of dad's socks. I might have been mean to Riley a little by taking toys away from her, but really, she deserved that. And I might have eaten some of her food when I wasn't supposed to. But when you think about a whole year! Well that's a loooong time for a puppy like me to not get into any trouble. I think I did pretty good. I hope mom and dad reconsider and get me a little something for Christmas. I think being cute must count for something.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-3787380113842434806?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/3787380113842434806/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=3787380113842434806' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/3787380113842434806'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/3787380113842434806'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/12/i-aint-gettin-nuttin-for-christmas.html' title='I Ain&apos;t Gettin&apos; Nuttin&apos; for Christmas'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/R1oMx2o3M2I/AAAAAAAAAJE/YpsTHt0CVHs/s72-c/IMG_1418.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-6479750197745916762</id><published>2007-11-12T20:56:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T21:07:21.161-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Home At Last</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RzkTHwFf4ZI/AAAAAAAAAI0/GQY0zFxzQ78/s1600-h/IMG_1046.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RzkTHwFf4ZI/AAAAAAAAAI0/GQY0zFxzQ78/s200/IMG_1046.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5132154274253365650" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Whenever mom and dad go on vacation, that means Riley and I go on vacation, too. Sometimes we can't always go with mom and dad wherever they go, so we go on vacation at the vet's. They take really good care of us there. I've known some of the people there since I was just a little puppy and they are always happy to see me when I show up. Riley and I get our own little rooms, sometimes we stay together, and mom always makes sure to bring lots of toys so we feel like we're at home. We also get lots of treats while we're there. Overall, it's not so bad. I don't get much sleep while I'm there though. There are always lots of other dogs and cats making noise so I can't sleep. That's why I'm really glad to be home tonight. I really missed mom so she let me snuggle up with her on the couch tonight. Now, I get to go to sleep in my own room, in my own little crate, with my blankets. It's good to be home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-6479750197745916762?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/6479750197745916762/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=6479750197745916762' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/6479750197745916762'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/6479750197745916762'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/11/home-at-last.html' title='Home At Last'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RzkTHwFf4ZI/AAAAAAAAAI0/GQY0zFxzQ78/s72-c/IMG_1046.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-1092517400009319479</id><published>2007-10-19T08:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-19T08:33:46.084-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Waitin' for Dad</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rxi-GZwkXLI/AAAAAAAAAH0/wu4QtAJz3-s/s1600-h/tag&amp;amp;riley.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123053593337027762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rxi-GZwkXLI/AAAAAAAAAH0/wu4QtAJz3-s/s320/tag%26riley.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Mom let us stay up late last night to wait for dad to get home. One of my favorite things to do is greet people when they come home. I think people should start greeting other people like us dogs do. People usually hug or shake hands, but it's much more fun to jump up and down and shake your booty. It shows how excited you are to see someone and lets them know how much you missed them. People should get into the habit of that. Dogs, they greet you that way no matter if you've been gone 2 hours or 2 days. We're always glad you came back home. We have a way of making you feel loved like no one else does. So when dad got home last night, we were the first to greet him with our happy faces, wagging booties (we don't have tails), and puppy kisses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-1092517400009319479?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/1092517400009319479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=1092517400009319479' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/1092517400009319479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/1092517400009319479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/10/waitin-for-dad.html' title='Waitin&apos; for Dad'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rxi-GZwkXLI/AAAAAAAAAH0/wu4QtAJz3-s/s72-c/tag%26riley.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-3671431750137677230</id><published>2007-10-17T19:06:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-17T19:11:04.998-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Riley!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rxax7ZwkXJI/AAAAAAAAAHk/VkWxnfUIlx4/s1600-h/IMG_0098.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rxax7ZwkXJI/AAAAAAAAAHk/VkWxnfUIlx4/s320/IMG_0098.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122477260265512082" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I just wanted to take a minute to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my sister, Riley. She's 3 today! And I have just one question; why didn't she have to wear a silly hat &lt;a href="http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/05/happy-birthday-to-me.html"&gt;like I did&lt;/a&gt;? Once again, completely unfair. : P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-3671431750137677230?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/3671431750137677230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=3671431750137677230' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/3671431750137677230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/3671431750137677230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/10/happy-birthday-riley.html' title='Happy Birthday Riley!'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rxax7ZwkXJI/AAAAAAAAAHk/VkWxnfUIlx4/s72-c/IMG_0098.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-6530588290070713145</id><published>2007-10-15T18:50:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-20T10:53:36.132-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tag's Baby Album</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RxQM_5wkW2I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/bW5s3AyACLA/s1600-h/image5.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121732968202918754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RxQM_5wkW2I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/bW5s3AyACLA/s200/image5.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Me with my brothers and sister&lt;br /&gt;I think we were about 7 weeks old. I'm the one in the back on the left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RxQNDJwkW3I/AAAAAAAAAFY/MLrAB6rXcUw/s1600-h/Ride+Home2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121733024037493618" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RxQNDJwkW3I/AAAAAAAAAFY/MLrAB6rXcUw/s200/Ride+Home2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;The day mom and dad came to take me home.&lt;br /&gt;9 weeks old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RxQNEZwkW4I/AAAAAAAAAFg/h4kI5UNSW5M/s1600-h/Favorite+Spot.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121733045512330114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RxQNEZwkW4I/AAAAAAAAAFg/h4kI5UNSW5M/s200/Favorite+Spot.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;My first night home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RxQNF5wkW5I/AAAAAAAAAFo/yOQtYuP2D1w/s1600-h/1st+Bath+at+Home+2.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121733071282133906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RxQNF5wkW5I/AAAAAAAAAFo/yOQtYuP2D1w/s200/1st+Bath+at+Home+2.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;First bath at home&lt;br /&gt;I didn't like it then, and I don't like it now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RxQNG5wkW6I/AAAAAAAAAFw/K1gT3j_h1j8/s1600-h/IMG_0171.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121733088462003106" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RxQNG5wkW6I/AAAAAAAAAFw/K1gT3j_h1j8/s200/IMG_0171.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;First trip to the beach&lt;br /&gt;11 weeks old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: right" align="center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RxQPG5wkW-I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/Y-MJLzwNtVc/s1600-h/Tag+with+Frog.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121735287485258722" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RxQPG5wkW-I/AAAAAAAAAGQ/Y-MJLzwNtVc/s200/Tag+with+Frog.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Chewing on my favorite frog &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121735257420487602" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RxQPFJwkW7I/AAAAAAAAAF4/mW32PEURlp4/s200/IMG_0109.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;Chewing on my squeaky mouse toy &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RxQPF5wkW8I/AAAAAAAAAGA/0ONAZCufTvA/s1600-h/IMG_0157.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121735270305389506" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RxQPF5wkW8I/AAAAAAAAAGA/0ONAZCufTvA/s200/IMG_0157.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Chewing on something I wasn't supposed to&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RxQPGZwkW9I/AAAAAAAAAGI/j0g-sJ-kvaI/s1600-h/Nosey+Puppy.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121735278895324114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: pointer; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RxQPGZwkW9I/AAAAAAAAAGI/j0g-sJ-kvaI/s200/Nosey+Puppy.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Me, just being a nosey puppy&lt;/p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123459068314541250" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rxou4JwkXMI/AAAAAAAAAH8/Fkp98T1LhyA/s200/coffee+table.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I promise I'm not getting into anything. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123461636704984354" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RxoxNpwkXSI/AAAAAAAAAIs/0KEsavmEhIk/s200/4mos.jpg" border="0" /&gt;4 mos old&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123459072609508578" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rxou4ZwkXOI/AAAAAAAAAIM/WF_4YOIIdwg/s200/5mos.jpg" border="0" /&gt; 5 mos old&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123459076904475890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rxou4pwkXPI/AAAAAAAAAIU/iV-GnSdLjfM/s200/6mos.jpg" border="0" /&gt; 6 mos old&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123459081199443202" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rxou45wkXQI/AAAAAAAAAIc/YomZbuwWSZk/s200/9mos.jpg" border="0" /&gt; Playing in the leaves, 9 mos old&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5123459819933818130" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rxovj5wkXRI/AAAAAAAAAIk/Wq5QWbV-Gcc/s200/1yr.jpg" border="0" /&gt;Happy 1st Birthday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="TEXT-ALIGN: center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-6530588290070713145?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/6530588290070713145/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=6530588290070713145' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/6530588290070713145'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/6530588290070713145'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/10/tags-baby-album.html' title='Tag&apos;s Baby Album'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RxQM_5wkW2I/AAAAAAAAAFQ/bW5s3AyACLA/s72-c/image5.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-4593106700008703342</id><published>2007-10-15T18:23:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T18:35:28.675-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Just us guys</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RxQFd5wkWyI/AAAAAAAAAEw/xlU9NzDmTaA/s1600-h/Copy+%281%29+of+IMG_0941.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RxQFd5wkWyI/AAAAAAAAAEw/xlU9NzDmTaA/s320/Copy+%281%29+of+IMG_0941.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121724687505972002" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love the days when dad is off work because I get to hang out with him. He's really fun to be around. He makes silly faces and noises at me and is a lot less serious than mom is. He also "barks" back at me when I bark at him. We have our own little conversation that mom doesn't understand. But my favorite thing to do with dad is just be lazy and lay in the chair with him and get tons of tummy rubs. Two guys, just chilling and relaxing on a Sunday afternoon.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-4593106700008703342?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/4593106700008703342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=4593106700008703342' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/4593106700008703342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/4593106700008703342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/10/just-us-guys.html' title='Just us guys'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RxQFd5wkWyI/AAAAAAAAAEw/xlU9NzDmTaA/s72-c/Copy+%281%29+of+IMG_0941.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-8328009712879204869</id><published>2007-10-08T18:41:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-08T18:54:14.262-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy Weekend</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RwrPWZwkWxI/AAAAAAAAAEo/FhDW466BjT4/s1600-h/IMG_0598.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RwrPWZwkWxI/AAAAAAAAAEo/FhDW466BjT4/s320/IMG_0598.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119131910238657298" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Boy it was a busy weekend here. Grandma, Grandpa, and my aunt Christy came to visit this weekend. I love it when they come because there's always lots of petting and belly rubs for me. Grandma stayed with Riley and me while everyone was gone on Saturday, and we played all day long. I really like when Grandma plays with me. She will throw my toys for me to fetch as long as I want her to. Usually mom and dad get tired of playing long before I do, but not Grandma. Another thing about Grandma is that she gives me as many pieces of ice as I want, too. Even when mom tells her not to, she still sneaks me a couple more pieces 'cause she knows it's my favorite thing. I had a lot of fun while they were here but now I'm tired from all the excitement. Things are getting back to normal so I guess I'll have time to catch up on some rest tomorrow.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-8328009712879204869?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/8328009712879204869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=8328009712879204869' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/8328009712879204869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/8328009712879204869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/10/busy-weekend.html' title='Busy Weekend'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RwrPWZwkWxI/AAAAAAAAAEo/FhDW466BjT4/s72-c/IMG_0598.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-2968595180440485257</id><published>2007-10-02T19:28:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T19:29:48.704-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Help I'm Trapped!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RwLwepwkWwI/AAAAAAAAAEg/OXNNbYOJLeI/s1600-h/IMG_0898.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RwLwepwkWwI/AAAAAAAAAEg/OXNNbYOJLeI/s320/IMG_0898.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116916536042609410" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I'll start off by saying this is a really embarrassing story. I must also give you some background information. I will not go through doors that are barely cracked open. I don't know if it's a fear that I'll get stuck or that they will close on me, but I'm really afraid of doors that are barely cracked open. You could probably place food on the floor on the other side and I still wouldn't go through until the door was opened wide enough to easily fit through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well it all started off very innocently. Mom and dad were sitting around tonight doing nothing so I ran back to my room to grab a toy out of Riley's crate to play fetch with. I guess I ran into the crate so fast that the door swung behind me. And that's how I came to be in this predicament. I was trapped. I sat there for a few minutes trying to overcome my fear of the barely cracked open door, but I began to panic. So I started barking for help. Riley barked back at me from the living room, but didn't come to my rescue. What good is she I ask you? So I kept barking. I could hear mom and dad talking in the other room, not paying any attention to my desperate cries for help. So finally I let out a helpless yelp and they both came running.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was finally going to be rescued, or so I thought. The next thing I know, mom is doubled over, laughing hysterically and dad is running to get the camera to capture this memorable moment. Well then mom told me to get out and come to her. I put one paw out but then stepped back, nose out but then stepped back. And then finally, I did it! I conquered my fears and went through the barely cracked open door. Of course Mom was still laughing at me and dad gave me a belly rub to make me feel better. What a night I've had tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-2968595180440485257?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/2968595180440485257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=2968595180440485257' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/2968595180440485257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/2968595180440485257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/10/help-im-trapped.html' title='Help I&apos;m Trapped!'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RwLwepwkWwI/AAAAAAAAAEg/OXNNbYOJLeI/s72-c/IMG_0898.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-7507928840095406009</id><published>2007-10-01T18:45:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-01T19:10:53.659-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Man my dogs are tired</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RwGVp5wkWvI/AAAAAAAAAEY/shFKHHN2XZc/s1600-h/IMG_0897.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RwGVp5wkWvI/AAAAAAAAAEY/shFKHHN2XZc/s320/IMG_0897.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5116535198781299442" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I love it when mom is home with us during the day but boy, I sure don't get any rest. When it's just Riley and me we sleep almost all day. But when mom's here I've gotta be right where she is so I don't get to sleep at all! Well today was one of those days. First we played fetch out in the back yard. I bet I chased that ball across the yard 200 times. Well not that many but I can't really count so it seemed liked a lot to me. After a short rest, mom started doing housework so of course I had to follow her back and forth around the house to be sure I didn't miss anything good. Then dad came home and took us out in the back yard. Of course Riley wanted to play then so I chased her around for a while until she got tired which doesn't take very long. She's sorta lazy. ; P Then, mom and dad wanted to go on a walk around the neighborhood so off we go again. Now it's late and almost my bedtime and I'm beat. I'm kinda glad mom will be at work tomorrow so I can catch up on my sleep. Can someone carry me to bed??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-7507928840095406009?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/7507928840095406009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=7507928840095406009' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/7507928840095406009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/7507928840095406009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/10/man-my-dogs-are-tired.html' title='Man my dogs are tired'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RwGVp5wkWvI/AAAAAAAAAEY/shFKHHN2XZc/s72-c/IMG_0897.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-6253531698090369018</id><published>2007-09-14T13:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-09-14T14:18:19.331-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thief!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rurle8L0TaI/AAAAAAAAAEI/jsZEHaAWTQk/s1600-h/angel.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110149046919777698" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rurle8L0TaI/AAAAAAAAAEI/jsZEHaAWTQk/s320/angel.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; So Riley has started stealing toys away from me. She thinks it's a game apparently. Normally she has no interest in toys, that is until I want to play with them. And she's sneaky about it too! For instance, last night mom was playing fetch with me in the living room. She threw the toy and before I could get to it, Riley ran over and picked it up. But did she want to play with it? No! She took it up onto the sofa and laid her chin on it so I couldn't get to it, and just watched me with those devious eyes the whole time. I paced around the coffee table several times, trying to figure out a way to snatch it without being attacked but she didn't budge. I barked at mom, asking for some help, but she was too busy laughing at me. I barked at Riley, showing my outrage at the whole situation but she just stared at me, laughing silently with her eyes. This went on for a good ten minutes until finally she got up and I snuck over and grabbed it. After I was done playing with it I carried it around all night to be sure she didn't steal it again. I guess I showed her! She's no angel. She may have mom and dad fooled, but not me. I'm on to her little games.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-6253531698090369018?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/6253531698090369018/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=6253531698090369018' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/6253531698090369018'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/6253531698090369018'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/09/thief.html' title='Thief!'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rurle8L0TaI/AAAAAAAAAEI/jsZEHaAWTQk/s72-c/angel.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-6493709560298188102</id><published>2007-09-07T10:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-09-07T10:47:25.873-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Ouch!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RuF_8koL3OI/AAAAAAAAAEA/Q9YR2AWrUhA/s1600-h/tagcloseup.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5107504131015957730" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RuF_8koL3OI/AAAAAAAAAEA/Q9YR2AWrUhA/s320/tagcloseup.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I got a boo boo on my head yesterday. I wasn't going to tell mom about it but she saw it last night and got all worried. I was playing and being my normal hyper self so obviously I wasn't too concered about it. She and dad kept trying to look at it and wondered why I was trying to bite. Well it hurts! I don't appreciate being poked and prodded so of course I'm going to bite. She and dad sat there trying to figure out how I got it. They finally came up with two theories- that Riley and I were playing around like we always do and I fell on the corner of something and got a little cut or that Riley bit me because I tried to take a toy away from her. I say either way let's blame it on Riley, hehe. She never gets in trouble anyway and it's about time. Mom is still all worried about me and wants to take me to the vet but I really hope she doesn't. I'm a big boy...I can handle a little boo boo. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-6493709560298188102?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/6493709560298188102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=6493709560298188102' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/6493709560298188102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/6493709560298188102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/09/ouch.html' title='Ouch!'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RuF_8koL3OI/AAAAAAAAAEA/Q9YR2AWrUhA/s72-c/tagcloseup.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-1745115816914457515</id><published>2007-08-27T18:30:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-27T19:00:56.599-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I guess I'll never understand...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RtNzHATdURI/AAAAAAAAAD4/ykllZApg3fc/s1600-h/IMG_0595.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RtNzHATdURI/AAAAAAAAAD4/ykllZApg3fc/s320/IMG_0595.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5103549366918795538" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Humans, I don't think I'll ever understand them. I think I'm done trying even. I mean, everything they do is foreign to me. They take baths every day, brush their hair every day, and they always seem to smell nice. None of that sounds very appealing to me. It's more fun to be smelly and dirty! But aside from all their strange habits, I'm baffled by all the things they do to us dogs. For instance, what's with all the nicknames? I've got a fairly simple name-Tag. Doesn't seem like you could come up with too many nicknames for that but yet somehow they do. I've heard 'em all; Tag-a-long, Tag-a-saurus, Tag-a-licious, Tag you're it, and my favorite, Bug. No idea how they came up with that one. Why give me such a short name if you're just gonna make it longer?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and how is it funny to stand me up on my hind legs and make me dance to that crazy music they listen to? I am not amused. It's embarrassing. Something else I don't understand-being quiet all the time. Humans, jabber all the time. I don't understand 95% of what they are saying but they talk all the time. Yet I am told to be quiet when I bark. I can't help they don't speak my language and understand what I'm saying. Maybe I just want to contribute to the conversation. I stare at them, dazed and confused when they talk to me but they just keep on talking like I understand.  I guess they must think I'm interested in whatever it is they are saying. heh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've come to one conclusion about humans. They're all nuts I tell you. If I didn't love them so much I think I'd pack up my toys and move out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-1745115816914457515?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/1745115816914457515/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=1745115816914457515' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/1745115816914457515'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/1745115816914457515'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/08/i-guess-ill-never-understand.html' title='I guess I&apos;ll never understand...'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RtNzHATdURI/AAAAAAAAAD4/ykllZApg3fc/s72-c/IMG_0595.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-6048923858927044647</id><published>2007-08-03T10:29:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-03T10:51:00.718-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Well we survived...barely!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RrNX2yGXPnI/AAAAAAAAADo/a3zsUmE4JL4/s1600-h/tagoutside.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5094512202159177330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RrNX2yGXPnI/AAAAAAAAADo/a3zsUmE4JL4/s200/tagoutside.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; I still can't believe mom left me behind. I mean, look at this face. How could anyone bare to leave me behind? But she did. She went out of town without me last week for the first time. And the worst part is, she left Riley and me with dad...all by ourselves...unsupervised!! Let me just say, dad loves us but he just doesn't get it. You see, mom and Riley and me, we have a schedule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6:30 am-I whine and she gets up to let me and Riley out.&lt;br /&gt;7:00 am-She lets us in and we get a treat and a bowl of water.&lt;br /&gt;12:00-1:00 pm-Mom comes home from work and lets us out. We get petted before mom goes back to work.&lt;br /&gt;5:00 pm-Dad is home and he feeds us.&lt;br /&gt;7:00 pm-After dinner mom takes us out to play or on a walk. She makes dad come too. Then we sit with mom on the sofa or play inside.&lt;br /&gt;9:00 pm-We get a treat and go to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well I guess she didn't tell dad about this schedule because he was getting us up at 4:30 am to go out before he went to work and then he wouldn't come back until 4 pm to let us out! That's a long time to hold it folks. We had a couple accidents and dad seemed pretty stressed out when he got home and had to clean up after us. What else were we supposed to do? Also, he was tired when he got home and didn't want to play when I brought my toys to him. Now I know dad did his best to take care of us, but he just doesn't have the kind of patience and love that mom does.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what mom was thinking but we were sure happy to see her when she got home! Mom, please don't ever do that again! I'm just glad I'm alive to tell the story!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-6048923858927044647?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/6048923858927044647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=6048923858927044647' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/6048923858927044647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/6048923858927044647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/08/well-we-survivedbarely.html' title='Well we survived...barely!'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RrNX2yGXPnI/AAAAAAAAADo/a3zsUmE4JL4/s72-c/tagoutside.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-5291254487892675582</id><published>2007-07-10T09:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T08:39:35.717-06:00</updated><title type='text'>What we were thinking...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RpOlSxomLlI/AAAAAAAAADA/PO6gAAzLOCM/s1600-h/of=50,590,442.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085590146211262034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RpOlSxomLlI/AAAAAAAAADA/PO6gAAzLOCM/s200/of%3D50,590,442.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;" I'm an angel, can't you tell?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RpOlTBomLmI/AAAAAAAAADI/0v1f6UrJQkE/s1600-h/of=50,590,44201.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085590150506229346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RpOlTBomLmI/AAAAAAAAADI/0v1f6UrJQkE/s200/of%3D50,590,44201.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Hey, you're in my way!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"No, you're in &lt;em&gt;my&lt;/em&gt; way!" &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RpOlTRomLnI/AAAAAAAAADQ/6_38WKE89jE/s1600-h/of=50,590,44203.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085590154801196658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RpOlTRomLnI/AAAAAAAAADQ/6_38WKE89jE/s200/of%3D50,590,44203.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Stop calling my name mom 'cause Iii'm not looking...still not looking." &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RpOlTxomLoI/AAAAAAAAADY/HVCc0Vj5YCU/s1600-h/of=50,590,44205.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085590163391131266" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RpOlTxomLoI/AAAAAAAAADY/HVCc0Vj5YCU/s200/of%3D50,590,44205.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Standing guard at the chipmunk hole. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RpOlTxomLpI/AAAAAAAAADg/80577Q-qHl0/s1600-h/of=50,590,44202.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5085590163391131282" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RpOlTxomLpI/AAAAAAAAADg/80577Q-qHl0/s200/of%3D50,590,44202.jpg" border="0" /&gt; &lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;"Enough with the pictures already! Not everything I do is cute!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-5291254487892675582?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/5291254487892675582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=5291254487892675582' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/5291254487892675582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/5291254487892675582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/07/im-angel-cant-you-tell-hey-youre-in-my.html' title='What we were thinking...'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RpOlSxomLlI/AAAAAAAAADA/PO6gAAzLOCM/s72-c/of%3D50,590,442.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-6071029887725141962</id><published>2007-07-06T08:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-06T09:10:24.673-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My thoughts on the 4th of July</title><content type='html'>This week the humans celebrated something called the "4th of July". Yet another event that seems stange to me. There was lots of cooking on the big black thing on the back deck with lots of yummy smells. However, I didn't get a single bite of any of that delicious forbidden food. When I looked in my bowl at dinner, half expecting to get a little nibble of some of that tasty food, it was the same old kibble that I get every day. Completely not fair in my opinion. Also, there were these loud popping sounds outside all throughout the night accompanied by bright lights in the sky. I did my best to alert mom and dad of these threatening noises by barking as loud as I could and pacing around in circles.  But all they kept telling me was "quiet!" and "sit!". They wanted &lt;em&gt;me &lt;/em&gt;to be still and quiet with all this noise and distraction going on! I was the least part of the noise! Again, completely unfair. Afterall, I was just trying to make them aware of this impending danger. I will never understand some of the things these humans do.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-6071029887725141962?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/6071029887725141962/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=6071029887725141962' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/6071029887725141962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/6071029887725141962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/07/my-thoughts-on-4th-of-july.html' title='My thoughts on the 4th of July'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-8988741011930231086</id><published>2007-06-15T14:01:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-15T14:35:32.743-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Bad influence...who me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RnLwNxJhUZI/AAAAAAAAACY/IcgVAalJQrA/s1600-h/tagpic.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076383849322205586" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RnLwNxJhUZI/AAAAAAAAACY/IcgVAalJQrA/s320/tagpic.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;The accusation has been made that I am becoming a bad influence on my sister, Riley. When she first moved here she was very quiet and reserved. Well we had a talk and I told her she had to work on it if she was going to hang with me. So &lt;em&gt;maybe &lt;/em&gt;I've been coaching her on a few things. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;For instance the other night, she came trotting into the living room with one of mom's socks she stole from the bedroom. Well the first thing she did wrong was get caught. She obviously doesn't know how to be sly yet. You should be able to get a good sized hole chewed before you get caught. We've got to work on that one. Another thing she may have picked up from me is destroying every piece of paper that's within reach. The rule is, if it's within reach, it's fair game. Kinda like that coupon she chewed up the other day. She got in big trouble for that too. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;One thing she has mastered so far is the "ice maker hop". The technique is to run over to the fridge whenever you hear mom and dad getting ice and hop up and down looking very hopeful and happy. Gets you a piece of ice every single time! They just can't resist the happy puppy face. I'm quite proud of her for learning that one. I'm not a bad dog really. I've just got a few tricks up my sleeve. Can I help it if Riley's picking them up too? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-8988741011930231086?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/8988741011930231086/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=8988741011930231086' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/8988741011930231086'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/8988741011930231086'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/06/bad-influencewho-me.html' title='Bad influence...who me?'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RnLwNxJhUZI/AAAAAAAAACY/IcgVAalJQrA/s72-c/tagpic.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-4590137200613317409</id><published>2007-06-05T12:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-05T13:29:02.672-06:00</updated><title type='text'>These are a few of my favorite things...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RmWxNxJhUXI/AAAAAAAAACI/pY1cKBH92Zw/s1600-h/rollingingrass.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5072655405392417138" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RmWxNxJhUXI/AAAAAAAAACI/pY1cKBH92Zw/s320/rollingingrass.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Ahh a dog's life. Eating, sleeping, playing, sniffing...it doesn't get much better than this. Today I decided to jot down some of my most favorite things...which wasn't hard since everything is my favorite thing! (except a bath, not so much a favorite thing)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;Tag's Favorite Things&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;1. Rolling in the grass, especially right after I get a bath (&lt;em&gt;Mom hates that.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;2. Hearing the words treat, eat, walk, and outside (&lt;em&gt;You have my undivided attention when you say those words.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;3. Chasing my dirty old tennis ball (&lt;em&gt;This is my mission in life.&lt;/em&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;4. Settling down with a good stick to chew on (&lt;em&gt;Is there really anything better&lt;/em&gt;?)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;5. Licking the dirty dishes in the dishwasher (&lt;em&gt;Yeah, I get yelled at every single time but it's so worth it!&lt;/em&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;6. Going for walks in my neighborhood (&lt;em&gt;I meet lots of nice people that pet me and there are a bazillion things to sniff and check out!) &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;7. Riding in the car (&lt;em&gt;It's always an adventure. I never know where I'm going next&lt;/em&gt;!)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;8. Tummy rubs (&lt;em&gt;Come on, you know you'd like one too&lt;/em&gt;.)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;9. Running circles around the coffee table for no apparent reason (&lt;em&gt;You should try it sometime, it's very liberating.&lt;/em&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;10. Stealing and chewing on dad's socks (&lt;em&gt;There's something about a stinky old sock that makes my day!&lt;/em&gt;)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I know it's just simple things, but it's the simple things that make life great! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;A note from Tag's mom:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;The inspiration for this post came from an email I got a while back. I deleted the email but found it again on this website &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.lolin.org/"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;http://www.lolin.org/&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; about half way down under &lt;em&gt;Excerpts from a Lab's Daily Diary.&lt;/em&gt; This pretty much sums up Corgis as well.&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-4590137200613317409?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/4590137200613317409/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=4590137200613317409' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/4590137200613317409'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/4590137200613317409'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/06/these-are-few-of-my-favorite-things.html' title='These are a few of my favorite things...'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RmWxNxJhUXI/AAAAAAAAACI/pY1cKBH92Zw/s72-c/rollingingrass.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-3309730267200771285</id><published>2007-06-02T19:34:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-02T20:05:15.314-06:00</updated><title type='text'>People let me tell ya 'bout my best friend...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RmIfpHz5i3I/AAAAAAAAAB4/Z8d83esjdgQ/s1600-h/IMG_0120.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RmIfpHz5i3I/AAAAAAAAAB4/Z8d83esjdgQ/s320/IMG_0120.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071650921704426354" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been a week since Riley came to live with us. As you can see, we've made some progress since that first day. It's sort of nice having someone to play with all the time. Mom doesn't like when I slobber on her while we're playing, but Riley doesn't seem to mind. It's nice having her along on my afternoon walks too. She scopes out one side of the street for interesting things to sniff and squirrels to chase, and I take the other side.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess you could say she's become my partner in crime too. We both got in trouble for digging in the dirt pile behind the house today and for trying to lick the di&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RmIgAHz5i4I/AAAAAAAAACA/G2FU8z0UJKc/s1600-h/IMG_0099.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RmIgAHz5i4I/AAAAAAAAACA/G2FU8z0UJKc/s320/IMG_0099.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5071651316841417602" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;rty dishes in the dishwasher. At least I'm not the only one getting yelled at anymore! She's pretty ok I guess. So far, so good.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-3309730267200771285?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/3309730267200771285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=3309730267200771285' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/3309730267200771285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/3309730267200771285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/06/people-let-me-tell-ya-bout-my-best.html' title='People let me tell ya &apos;bout my best friend...'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RmIfpHz5i3I/AAAAAAAAAB4/Z8d83esjdgQ/s72-c/IMG_0120.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-5367949277592027062</id><published>2007-05-28T19:40:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T20:03:59.138-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Heeeere's Riley</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RluFDnz5izI/AAAAAAAAABY/K3B3Kz7JTb4/s1600-h/IMG_0036.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RluFDnz5izI/AAAAAAAAABY/K3B3Kz7JTb4/s320/IMG_0036.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5069792102808390450" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;Hey guys! Meet Riley. I just met her yesterday and let me tell ya I'm not so sure about this whole sister thing yet. She seems to be getting a lot of the attention which I am not used to. But I've been playing tough and giving her the cold shoulder. She knows who's boss around here. Yeah, I'm a little jealous of her right now, but I know mom and dad still love me. Afterall, I'm the baby! And &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;everyone&lt;/span&gt; knows I'm the cutest!&lt;br /&gt;I guess there could be some benefits to having a sister. I get to eat any left over food in her bowl, more toys for me to play with(steal), someone my own size to chase around, plus I won't be lonely when Mom and Dad are at work now. Maybe I will let her stay. I guess she's ok...for a sister.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-5367949277592027062?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/5367949277592027062/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=5367949277592027062' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/5367949277592027062'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/5367949277592027062'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/05/heeeeres-riley.html' title='Heeeere&apos;s Riley'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RluFDnz5izI/AAAAAAAAABY/K3B3Kz7JTb4/s72-c/IMG_0036.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-1181054524738021247</id><published>2007-05-06T09:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-06T09:17:37.853-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy birthday to me?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rj3v-ggdPnI/AAAAAAAAABQ/DLeXQt9fBcU/s1600-h/IMG_0006.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rj3v-ggdPnI/AAAAAAAAABQ/DLeXQt9fBcU/s320/IMG_0006.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5061465413391302258" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea what a birthday is but apparently I have one today. Whatever it is, I'm not sure if I like it. Anything that requires you to wear a funny hat like this &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;cannot&lt;/span&gt; be good. And the worst part is, I hear this happens every year! What did I do to deserve this? Was it the cabinet incident?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-1181054524738021247?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/1181054524738021247/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=1181054524738021247' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/1181054524738021247'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/1181054524738021247'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/05/happy-birthday-to-me.html' title='Happy birthday to me?'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rj3v-ggdPnI/AAAAAAAAABQ/DLeXQt9fBcU/s72-c/IMG_0006.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-6632861676312355589</id><published>2007-05-04T08:41:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-04T08:56:46.359-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Up the creek</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RjtGMQgdPmI/AAAAAAAAABI/OTC6dPDG3mA/s1600-h/tagswims.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5060715782684360290" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RjtGMQgdPmI/AAAAAAAAABI/OTC6dPDG3mA/s320/tagswims.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Who knew corgis could swim? I sure as heck didn't until I did it. Mom and dad took me on a walk to the park on Monday. It was a pretty hot day so I thought I'd get a sip of water and then mosey on over and check out some shiney candy wrappers I spotted on the ground. I guess mom and dad had other ideas though. They thought it would be a good idea to see if I could swim. So the next thing I know I'm in the creek! What else could I do but start kicking my little legs. Mom took this opportunity to snap a pic of me. Great, now we'll alllways remember it. I hope they're happy now. I have to admit, it did cool me off but let's just say it's about as fun as taking a bath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just for the record, corgis are good at running fast, herding, and agility type activities...nowhere does it say we like to swim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-6632861676312355589?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/6632861676312355589/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=6632861676312355589' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/6632861676312355589'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/6632861676312355589'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/05/up-creek.html' title='Up the creek'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RjtGMQgdPmI/AAAAAAAAABI/OTC6dPDG3mA/s72-c/tagswims.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-4048534804708076617</id><published>2007-04-24T20:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-24T20:53:31.551-06:00</updated><title type='text'>My nemesis...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Ri65jQgdPlI/AAAAAAAAABA/fu08tX53nXk/s1600-h/IMG_1024.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Ri65jQgdPlI/AAAAAAAAABA/fu08tX53nXk/s320/IMG_1024.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5057183446961307218" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;You may call it a tennis ball, but I call it my nemesis. It taunts me as it races past me, always just out of my reach. I'm an agile, athletic fellow but this thing is fast. When I catch a glimpse of it running across the  grass I know what my mission is. To catch and attack this shameless tease. I proudly bring it back to my parents as a prize. It cannot hide from me outside. But inside, well that is its territory. So many things to bounce off of and so many places to hide. Just as I get it between my paws, it sneaks away beneath the furniture, just out of my reach. My head is just too big and my nose not quite long enough to retrieve it. And my legs, well that's one of the downfalls of being short. I bark at it but it doesn't budge. I can see it waiting there in the darkness under the ottoman, knowing it's safe from me. But I'll get you tennis ball...someday!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-4048534804708076617?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/4048534804708076617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=4048534804708076617' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/4048534804708076617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/4048534804708076617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/04/my-nemesis.html' title='My nemesis...'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Ri65jQgdPlI/AAAAAAAAABA/fu08tX53nXk/s72-c/IMG_1024.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-4923592533250701047</id><published>2007-04-20T16:05:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T16:11:00.584-06:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm back and I'm betta than eva!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rik5vQmBP4I/AAAAAAAAAA4/f7d0EHvf7PI/s1600-h/tagsmile.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055635540771159938" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rik5vQmBP4I/AAAAAAAAAA4/f7d0EHvf7PI/s320/tagsmile.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Thanks to everyone who thought about me while I was sick. It's been a rough month for me but I'm getting the spring back in my step now. My buddies at the vet's office say I'm doing good. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Mom and dad better watch their socks 'cause Iiii'm gonna steal 'em! Betcha can't catch me now!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-4923592533250701047?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/4923592533250701047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=4923592533250701047' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/4923592533250701047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/4923592533250701047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/04/im-back-and-im-betta-than-eva.html' title='I&apos;m back and I&apos;m betta than eva!'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rik5vQmBP4I/AAAAAAAAAA4/f7d0EHvf7PI/s72-c/tagsmile.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-6784224164243251881</id><published>2007-04-20T15:52:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T16:01:47.110-06:00</updated><title type='text'>You can't prove it was me!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rik2QwmBP3I/AAAAAAAAAAw/-9R1b7sTG0w/s1600-h/baddog.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055631718250266482" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rik2QwmBP3I/AAAAAAAAAAw/-9R1b7sTG0w/s320/baddog.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Yeah ok I did it...but in my defense it was a rough week for me. I had been hearing about this "snip snip" for a while now but I wasn't sure what it was. Well let me tell ya, it was not what I expected! Oh sure it started off all peachy--a trip to the vet's office. That's cool because I like the folks up there. They pet me and give me treats. So when my mom left me there I wasn't too concerned.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;All I remember after that is falling asleep. Who knows how long I slept, hours, days maybe but when I woke up in a drunken haze I felt like something was missing. But what could it be?  After the room stopped spinning and I proceeded to clean myself up I noticed it...something WAS missing! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Well, wouldn't you be upset if something like that happened to you? So a couple days later I was thinking about it and I was ticked. So while no one was looking I may or may not have chewed up the cabinet. Sure this picture is encriminating but you don't actually see me chewing on it, do you? Innocent until proven guilty, right?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-6784224164243251881?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/6784224164243251881/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=6784224164243251881' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/6784224164243251881'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/6784224164243251881'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/04/you-cant-prove-it-was-me.html' title='You can&apos;t prove it was me!'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/Rik2QwmBP3I/AAAAAAAAAAw/-9R1b7sTG0w/s72-c/baddog.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4739929712469586577.post-7395782084529757076</id><published>2007-04-20T15:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-04-20T15:43:41.120-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A whole new world!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RikxJAmBP2I/AAAAAAAAAAo/6RmkdUSfJIc/s1600-h/carridehome.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5055626087548141410" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RikxJAmBP2I/AAAAAAAAAAo/6RmkdUSfJIc/s320/carridehome.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Well let me start at the beginning. I was born May 6, 2006 in Birmingham, AL. Those first couple months are hazy now but I do remember I had a rough start. I was the smallest boy in the litter and my human mom thought I wouldn't make it. But she hand fed me until I was strong enough to do it on my own. One day I remember her telling me I was going to have new parents. I remember thinking, geez I hope they like me. (but look at that handsome devil ...how could they not?!)I was kinda scared to leave my brothers and sisters though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That brings us to July 7, 2006. My new mom and dad came to pick me up. I slept all the way home. It was kinda weird at first learning all the rules like &lt;em&gt;don't chew on people's toes, don't shred the papers on the coffee table, and don't potty in the house&lt;/em&gt;. For some reason I kept forgetting that one. After a few weeks I got settled in though. Now I love my home and mom and dad are the coolest. I can tell they love me a lot...even when I'm bad...which I am...a lot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4739929712469586577-7395782084529757076?l=tagtales.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/feeds/7395782084529757076/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4739929712469586577&amp;postID=7395782084529757076' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/7395782084529757076'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4739929712469586577/posts/default/7395782084529757076'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://tagtales.blogspot.com/2007/04/whole-new-world.html' title='A whole new world!'/><author><name>Tag</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/06921869254952452327</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_7YzC1fsGX6c/RikxJAmBP2I/AAAAAAAAAAo/6RmkdUSfJIc/s72-c/carridehome.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
