A Conversation Between Friends

      As I ended my posting of October 6^th, it was now Whitney’s turn to be shuffled off to spend the day at Tucker’s house. If she can’t be with us, there is no place finer than spending time at Tucker’s abode.

      A great portion of Whitney’s day was spent lounging on the dock, overseeing Tucker’s fishing activities, whereas, my day was spent with an eye surgeon discussing the next plan for my eye. (Just a quick eye update: I will be having another surgery on my eye on Halloween. No guarantee on how much of my vision I will regain, but hopefully I’ll get some improvement.)

       So, enough about me, let’s get back to what this blog is all about―the dogs.

       When I arrived that afternoon to reclaim Whitney, Diane was relaxing on the dock with a good book. The four-leggers were busy tending to their respective tasks: Tucker was doing his ‘fish patrol’; Bracken was on bird duty; Whitney was tending to her important dock duties.

        I settled in on the dock bench with Diane. As I watched the three dogs, I put my imagination to work and pictured what they might be communicating to each other. What follows is my imagination at work.

        Bracken: “Well, will you look at that.”

        Tucker: “Look at what?”

        Bracken: “That bird out there on the water.”

        Tucker: “My eyes aren’t what they use to be, so give me a hint where to look.”

        Whitney: “Yeah, where, where? I’ve got good eyes, but I can’t see a bird out there.”

        Bracken: “Straight out from my nose, about midway across the lake.”

        Tucker: “Nope, I still can’t see it.”

        Whitney: “How do you expect us to line this bird up with your nose, when you keep pacing back and forth?”

        Bracken grins and says, “Okay, you’ve both got five seconds to line up my nose to the bird, after that I begin pacing again.”

        Tucker: “By golly, I see it now. How about you, Whit?”

        Whitney: “Remember, I’m short and I can’t see around you two big guys.”

        Tucker: “Move up here next to me.”

        Whitney: “Do you promise not to bump me into the water?”

        Tucker: “Promise.”

        Whitney cautiously moves forward as Tucker aims his eyes at the bird.

        Whitney: “That tiny little speck way out there is a bird?”

        Tucker: “Tiny and too far away. I’m going back to my fishing. Care to join me?”

        Whitney: “That would be a big NO! I’ll stay safe and dry up here with Diane.”

        Bracken: “Don’t either of you want to watch for birds?”

        Tucker: “Sorry, Brack, but fishing is my game.”

        Whitney: “After a brief walk on shore, I’ll be lounging on the dock.”

     And so goes my imagined conversation amongst the three four-leggers.

     So long, I’ll see you soon!

Which House Today

            Last week our neighborhood four-leggers had a busy week traveling from one house to another. Rather than the game of musical chairs, for the dogs it was musical houses.

            It was planned that Tucker would spend a couple of days with us. As we were awaiting his arrival Monday morning, suddenly happy little Stanley was bouncing at the gate. His arrival that early told me that he, too, would be spending the day with us.

            He hurried up the steps, dashed into the kitchen, and bee-lined for Whitney’s dish. Staring into an empty dish wasn’t at all what he was expecting. He immediately began doing a bouncy dance around my legs. With each bounce, I looked into his eyes and heard, “I’m hungry, so would you please hurry and put food in that dish.”

            At about that same time, Tucker arrived. The excitement of seeing Tucker distracted Stanley―very temporarily―from his thoughts of food.

            Once Tucker was settled in, I poured three bowls of food. Silly me, what was I thinking―three bowls? The feeding ritual is, though they may each start at their assigned bowl, they always end up taking turns eating out of just one bowl. They always work it out amongst themselves who takes a bite and when.

            The three lazed around and let the food digest, that is until I saw a wood tick on Stanley. (As followers of my blog, you are all aware that ticks freak me out.) DJ saw the signs of my ‘tick panic episode’, and immediately began the search through his fur. I knew instantly that the new fall crop of ticks had hatched and I would be in panic mode for the next several weeks.

            As DJ performed tick removal on a very unhappy Stanley, Bracken arrived on the scene. His arrival motivated Tucker and Whitney to rise from their slumber, and gave Stanley a welcome break from ‘tick picking’.

            Stanley was the only one of the group that was not having a sleepover that night. After he headed home it was meal time for the three remaining dogs. Again I set out three bowls and again they used just one. Duh―shouldn’t I know that by now.

            Tucker has had many sleepovers at our house and he long ago claimed his favorite spot in our room. So with Tucker on his mat, Whitney on our bed, and Bracken under the table, it was time for us all to have a good night’s rest. With three dogs I knew morning would come very early.

            DJ took the three for a walk in the morning and came home with four. Not wanting to miss out on any fun, Stanley had joined the group. Upon their return Stanley and Bracken were each thick with ticks. I, of course, freaked out again, which was DJ’s cue to promptly begin the tick removal. Tucker and Whitney proudly let me know that they were tick free!

            Tucker’s owners picked up Tucker and Bracken later that day. I’m sure Bracken thought he was going home, but unbeknownst to him he had one more sleepover to do at Tucker’s house.

            Because of an appointment for me the next morning, it was Whitney’s turn to move on up the road and spend the day at Tucker’s house.

            But that’s a story for next time.

            So long, I’ll see you soon!

Our Missy's Beginning

     I was probably about 13 when our dog Tammy passed on. Of course my dad insisted, 'No more dogs'. We did heed his words for awhile, but a rather short 'while'. However, a new dog this time wasn't my doing; it was my mom's.
     Oh I wasn't totally innocent in the plotting and neither was my brother. You see, Mom heard that a friend's dog had a litter of puppies, and one afternoon Mom suggested to my brother and I that we take a drive to Helen's house, to 'just look' at a puppy. Mom didn't have a driver's license, but my brother did. So Ron drove, and I was in the car, so I guess you could say we were then accomplices.

     'Just look', hah! We all knew we would be coming home with a new puppy. Did Dad know? By the look on his face when he got home and he saw the three of us gathered around a puppy, I'd say no.
     We now had a new addition to our family, a Springer beagle mix that we named Missy. Dad laid some ground rules: She was not allowed beyond the kitchen; "No sneaking her into your room at night, Darlene"; and being I was the youngest, I got the 'poop detail'.
     Missy was an extremely naughty puppy. If there was any mischief to be found, believe me she would be in the midst of it.
     Dad and my grandfather built our house, and Dad was extremely proud of their work. A lot of work went into the making the baseboard molding; at each corner the wood curved outward. Apparently in Missy's mind these corners would be a perfect teething spot. 
     Mom, Ron, and I would frantically work to patch the chewed corners, hoping that Dad would never notice. Duh, what were we thinking; as if Dad wouldn't notice that corners were suddenly gone on his handcrafted molding. After a week of our handy work, Dad finally noticed. He may have mumbled a weak threat about giving the dog back, but soon Dad quietly went about doing his own repair work. Yes, the woodwork was scarred forever, but thankfully Missy was here to stay.
     Remember Dad's first rule: Missy was not allowed beyond the kitchen. Funny thing, Dad broke his own rule one evening and I caught him at it. From that night on, Missy was my bedtime companion.
     As for my job of being the 'poop scooper', I was very diligent of my duties in the beginning. But as time went by my diligence waned, and I became quite forgetful about my duties.
     On Dad's weekly mowing day, when I heard an angry shout summoning me to the back yard, I suddenly remembered what I had forgotten to do. I hurried out the door, grabbed my shovel and bucket, and quickly tended to my task. I made a point to stay out of Dad's path as he angrily tried to wipe something off from the bottom of his shoe.
     As I got a bit older, the lawn mowing became my new task. The first time out I learned firsthand the importance of doing the 'pooper scooping' before the mowing.
     Missy has been gone for many years now, but definitely not forgotten. Remembering back to all her silly antics always brings a smile to my face. Having said that, I'm sure you can sense that there will be future postings about 'Our Missy'.

So long, I'll see you soon!

     
    

Stop Animal Abuse

     Being a devoted dog lover it is impossible for me understand animal abuse. I'm not naive, but I cannot comprehend why there are people in this world who abuse these beautiful, innocent creatures. We must put an end to this senseless cruelty.
     Today I am sharing with you a very sad story that was recently brought to my attention. Even though the following story is fiction, it is heartbreaking to know that such things do happen, every day. I don't mean for this posting to be a downer, instead my hope is that we, as animal lovers, can help put a stop to animal abuse. Perhaps if we all pass this story along, it will bring us a step closer to winning this battle. Or at the very least it will make a perspective puppy buyer stop and think before they buy that 'cute little puppy'. A puppy is a responsibility and a lifelong commitment. A puppy requires a lot of gentle training. Most importantly they need our love.

Dear Mom and Dad,
 I Died Today.
    You got tired of me and took me to the Shelter. They were overcrowded and I drew an unlucky number.
    I am in a black plastic bag in a landfill now. Some other puppy will get the barely used leash you left. My collar was dirty and too small, but the lady took it off before she sent me to the Rainbow Bridge.
    Would I still be at home if I hadn't chewed your shoe? I didn't know what it was, but it was leather, and it was on the floor. I was just playing. You forgot to get me some puppy toys.
    Would I still be at home if I had been housebroken? Rubbing my nose in what I did only made me ashamed that I had to go at all. There are books and obedience teachers that would have taught you how to teach me to go to the door.
     Would I still be at home if I hadn't brought fleas into the house? Without Anti Flea Medicine, I couldn't get them off of me after you left me in the yard for days.
    Would I still be at home if I hadn't barked? I was only saying, "I'm scared, I'm lonely, I'm here! I'm here!" I want to be your best friend. .                                                                                
     Would I still be at home if I made you happy? Hitting me didn't make me learn how.
     Would I still be at home if you had taken the time to care for me and teach manners to me? You didn't pay attention to me after the first week or so, but I spent all my time waiting for you to love me.

Love, Your Puppy                          (Author Unknown)

    Please forward this to everyone; it's time to put a stop to animal abuse!
   
     Tonight, and every night, give your four-legger an extra hug and kiss, and thank them for allowing you to be their human companion.

     So long, I'll see you soon!

Stop Animal Abuse

      Being a devoted dog lover it is impossible for me understand animal abuse. I'm not naive, but I cannot comprehend why there are people in this world who abuse these beautiful, innocent creatures. We must put an end to this senseless cruelty.
     Today I am sharing with you a very sad story that was recently brought to my attention. Even though the following story is fiction, it is heartbreaking to know that such things do happen, every day. I don't mean for this posting to be a downer, instead my hope is that we, as animal lovers, can help put a stop to animal abuse. Perhaps if we all pass this story along, it will bring us a step closer to winning this battle. Or at the very least it will make a perspective puppy buyer stop and think before they buy that 'cute little puppy'. A puppy is a responsibility and a lifelong commitment. A puppy requires a lot of gentle training. Most importantly they need our love.

Dear Mom and Dad,
 I Died Today.

    You got tired of me and took me to the Shelter. They were overcrowded and I drew an unlucky number.
    I am in a black plastic bag in a landfill now. Some other puppy will get the barely used leash you left. My collar was dirty and too small, but the lady took it off before she sent me to the Rainbow Bridge.
    Would I still be at home if I hadn't chewed your shoe? I didn't know what it was, but it was leather, and it was on the floor. I was just playing. You forgot to get me some puppy toys.
    Would I still be at home if I had been housebroken? Rubbing my nose in what I did only made me ashamed that I had to go at all. There are books and obedience teachers that would have taught you how to teach me to go to the door.
     Would I still be at home if I hadn't brought fleas into the house? Without Anti Flea Medicine, I couldn't get them off of me after you left me in the yard for days.
    Would I still be at home if I hadn't barked? I was only saying, "I'm scared, I'm lonely, I'm here! I'm here!" I want to be your best friend. .                                                                                  
     Would I still be at home if I made you happy? Hitting me didn't make me learn how.
     Would I still be at home if you had taken the time to care for me and teach manners to me? You didn't pay attention to me after the first week or so, but I spent all my time waiting for you to love me.

Love, Your Puppy                          (Author Unknown)

    Please forward this to everyone; it's time to put a stop to animal abuse!
   
     Tonight, and every night, give your four-legger an extra hug and kiss, and thank them for allowing you to be their human companion.

     So long, I'll see you soon!

Whitney's Ball of Light

     As promised in my posting of 9/19/11, here is more of the 'Party Dogs'.
     Our Whitney's coloring is very black and because of that it is easy to lose sight of her in the dark of night. Also with my current vision issues, it is impossible for me to see her black body in virtually any unlit area.
     To help aid us with Whitney's nighttime disappearing act, Tucker and his two-legger companions brought Whitney a gift of light; a small ball that snaps on her collar. A pinch on the ball and voila, a bright glowing light comes on.
     As darkness set in on the night of our party, the 'ball' was snapped onto Whitney's collar. A quick pinch on the ball and her neck was aglow. She was a bit annoyed with this light below her chin, but quickly adjusted. I'm sure she adjusted so quickly because of all the attention she was getting as she walked amongst all the two-leggers. 
     While she paid little attention to the light, Stanley was very fascinated with this gadget his friend was wearing. Even as the two friends played Stanley would stop and stare at the light. He seemed to catch on very quickly that if he lost sight of Whitney in the dark, he just had to look for that funny light.
     Tucker stayed close by whoever was petting him and would watch in amazement, as the 'ball of light' would zip in front of his eyes.
     Stanley remained intrigued by Whitney's new addition, that is until it was snapped onto his collar. I have never seen a dog run backwards as fast as little Stanley did. I'm sure his logic was this, If I go backwards fast, I can surely get away from this thing. Obviously, as fast as he went so did the light.
     A wise Tucker watched with enjoyment, realizing what Stanley did not: You can't outrun that ball of light, little buddy.
     Once the light was reattached on Whitney, I headed to the house, with a tired Stanley hot on my heels. Tucker, seeing where we were going and knowing that's where the treats are found, quickly joined us. Stanley hurried into our bedroom and snuggled on the bed. Was he tired or just hiding from the 'ball of light'? Whatever his reason was quickly forgotten when he heard the treat jar open.
     Outside once again, the dogs resumed their playing, but at a much slower pace this time. It was obvious the four-leggers were tiring from all the excitement of the party. Soon Tucker was seen sitting under someone's petting hand. Shortly afterwards, Stanley disappeared, but was soon found sound asleep on a nice cushioned chair. Whitney was quietly making her rounds to all the remaining guests, but was obviously beginning to lose steam.
     Not a one of the party dogs hesitated when it was time to go home. Each knowing that sleep and dreams would be soon upon them.
     Rest up, all you party dogs; you never know when we might surprise you with another party.

     So long, I'll see you soon!
    
     
     
    
 

The Return of the Party Dogs

     Saturday night we hosted our second annual end of the season barbecue. The morning and afternoon were spent getting everything set up for the festivities. Wherever DJ was working, Whitney was there, lending a helping paw.
     Stanley spent a great deal of the early afternoon running back and forth on our gravel road. He did make a pit stop at our gate, and made it known that he wanted in. After a long drink at the water bowl, it was obvious he was in need of a quiet nap.
     There must have been a sense of party preparation in the air because both Whitney and Stanley seemed to understand something big was about to happen and they better rest up. Stanley headed home for a nice long power nap, while DJ and Whitney quietly disappeared and took their own power nap.
     A now wide awake Whitney greeted our guests as they began to arrive. When Stanley reappeared he was fully recharged and ready to party. Bracken was the next to arrive. With the arrival of Tucker, wearing his official party scarf, the party officially began.
     All four of the dogs went about their playing, but when the aroma of the cooking meat filled the air, the entire crew of four-leggers gathered around the grill.

     Tucker and Whitney are the two that enjoy being in the midst of the crowd of two-leggers, both making a stop by every person in attendance. An available lap was Whitney's cue to hop up and say, 'Hello'. An idle hand was Tucker's cue to stop by and get some scratches behind the ear.
     Stanley would also hop on an available lap, but since his goal is to play, his lap visits were usually quite brief.
     Bracken spent his time sniffing the perimeter of the yard, with an occasional trot back to the crowd to check on his owners and then back to his patrol duties.
     Whitney's playtime's are generally short and usually only on her terms. Maybe it was the party atmosphere, but she and Stanley chased each other and rolled around on the ground for a very long time. Tucker, not wanting to leave whoever was scratching his ear, watched from the sideline as his friends played.
     Even though Tucker didn't join in with the playing, I'll guarantee you that Tucker grinned with approval as he watched his two pals and all their antics.
     Tune in next time for more on the party dogs. Until then...

     So long, I'll see you soon!