Birthday party photos, as promised!

I did not get a photo of the plate of nine grilled hamburgers, or of their consumption, but they were nonetheless enjoyed. It took a lot longer to prepare them than it took the dogs to gulp them!

Then the humans ate their meal. Our dear friends Lee and Dee joined us (and oh what a greeting they got from the Waggle - ah-wooos long and loud all around!) and our brand new neighbors, Xan and her dad Michael. Xan took most of the photos for me, except the one of her. We had grilled Italian sausage, grilled veggies including the first corn on the cob of the season, sliced tomatoes with fresh basil and olive oil, home made bread which came in the mail from the grands, and Xan brought delicious roast potatoes. Lee and Dee brought wine.

The dogs helped do the dishes, and then:


[L to R - Fat Charlie's nose, Swede William, Giacomino, Lindy Loo, Sam I Am and Mama Pajama]

"Is she getting out the whipped cream?"



[Mama Pajama on Lee's lap]

"I can reach it from here!"



[Fat Charlie]

"Mmmmmm. Nyummm!"




If you click on this photo and enlarge it, Maria's eyes might give you nightmares.



Seconds... or thirds... for Mama Pajama




Then Swede William went from lap to lap all the way around the table, starting with Bill.

Our fun new neighbor Xan gets a turn.

Maria had too much partying.

Fat Charlie ended the evening with a face full of stinky foot.

Hug your hounds

More on Thunderphobia be Gone, and more...

Jean wrote:

Some clarifying points for questions you had and those of some of your
readers: I completed the two year certification program in Donna Eden’s modality
of Energy Medicine http://www.innersource.net/ . The work
with Giacomino was not about massage, but about working the appropriate
acupressure points. In this case the key points were the sedating or calming
points on Triple Warmer, or more traditionally called Triple Heater, meridian.
We also did some other things to rebalance the energetic charge he developed
around the sound of thunder storms. Someone asked for a resource for animals.
The best one I’m aware of and the one we were given in my class is the Tallgrass
Animal Acupressure Institute http://www.animalacupressure.com/index.html
-- they have videos, charts, courses etc. They are where I got my charts and
video from.

Thanks, Jean! (Oh and BTW, Jean, after you left today, Giacomino had a nap while I sewed, and then when we went outside at around four thirty, he galloped around the yard! Galloped. He was being sooo silly! And he ate all his dinner.)

**********************************************************************

We got an award!!!

Which we totally do NOT deserve!!! But the Zoo Crew were nice enough to give it to us. (I am pretty sure they felt sorry for the whippets, seeing that they have such a slacker servant.) I do think about the blog everyday, and I'm a daily blogger in that I visit my favorites every day, so maybe that's worth something. The Zoo Crew have a very sweet blog, and they have a white puppy named Willow, how amazing is that, so be sure to go visit them. (This Willow is a smidgen bigger than our Willow was.)

I am going to pass the award on to The Lurchers (maybe it will bring more good energy for Lurcher #1's blood work) and iList Paducah Blog, (you remember how much Mary has done to help the dogs around here) both of whom actually deserve it! Oh and to Gus and Teka who also deserve it and have just moved from Arizona to Memphis which is QUITE the move.

Thank you Zoo Crew!

************************************************************

And today was Fat Charlie and Mama Pajama's eleventh birthday. The weather gods smiled on us with a generosity of spirit unheard of around these parts. It was simply glorious. We had a nice little dinner, and all the dogs got hamburgers from the grill, with whipped cream from the can for dessert! I will post the photos tomorrow.

That Mama Pajama is here, celebrating her ELEVENTH birthday is purely a little miracle. At least to me.

hug your hounds

Thunderphobia be GONE!

You may recall, dear readers, that Very Old Dog's thunderphobia had advanced to the point where I feared that he would literally die of fright. His fourteen year old heart simply would explode under the strain. He was terrified. And he got worse with each storm.

He had been totally oblivious to storms or any loud noises until about the time he turned twelve. During the last several storms he had gotten to the point where he paced, he shook, he panted and he suffered abject terror. The flash of the lightning would make him jump and whimper, and then the thunder... oh it has been awful. And in this part of the world, thunder storms are a violent, persistent presence. Year round.

Well, one of you dear readers, who happens also to live in Paducah, took pity on the old dog. We knew her casually; she and her husband enjoy Bill's art. They had us to dinner once and we had reciprocated, and we'd see each other at goings on around town. Jean (not to be confused with Jeannie who went to see Xela run with me, even though I called Jean Jeannie for three months cause I'm not so swift) and Roger were fun people and we looked forward to getting to know them better.

(A moment of truth: I was intimidated by that first dinner. Holy Moly could she cook! And everything was so beautiful, and organized and ... and I'm not. But I've gotten over it.)

I can't remember if Jean called or just stopped by, but she said the magic words, "I might be able to help Giacomino be not so stressed during storms."

Well, don't be bashful, come on over!!

I had been interested to hear about Jean's course of study, which she's been doing for some years. (Ill find out how many and edit.) She studies Energy Medicine, and is a Certified Practitioner. Now, I imagine it took some courage to come to the house of a retired M.D. and a retired R.N. and say, "I am going to work on your dog's energy flow and meridians and help him with his fear of storms." But I'd seen very good results in my dogs and horses with acupuncture treatments in the past, and I said, "Sure! It can't hurt."

So she worked with him. Oh, yes, she is trained to treat humans, but she had one course on animals, and she punted.

The first couple of storms after the first couple of sessions, I didn't see any improvement. But then the next storm, I thought, "Huh." He didn't seem so frantic. I reasoned that maybe his hearing was gone to the point that he couldn't hear it. I wrote if off as a simple, "huh."

But then there was no denying the improvement. More storms came, doozies, and he was unfazed. Maybe he'd look slightly unsettled for a nanosecond. BOOM!!! The windows rattled and the room lit up. Zzzzzzzz went Giacomino. "Oh thank everything that is good," cried a happy me!

Night before last was a big test. Bill and I were out, and a bad storm rolled into town, just minutes before we got home. When we opened the kitchen door, I saw dear Giacomino standing with both ears straight up, staring at the flashing window.

Uh-oh, I thought.

He was fairly worried. So I "worked" the points to relieve his fight or flight reaction, as Jean had taught me. This storm was bad, but I felt the pulses under my fingers, and saw some of my dog's muscles twitching, meaning that I was getting a reaction, and then, as the flashes and crashes kept on, I saw Giacomino relax.

And then, he went to sleep.

Good glory be it's a genuine miracle!!! I am one happy whippet servant! What a gift! (I know that is a lot of exclamation points, but I am exclaiming!) It is so miserable to watch your dear dog in a total panic and not be able to do a thing to help, and it is heaven to be able to help him.

Thank you, Jean.

hug your hounds

Epiphany

We were on the third walk of the morning. We had huge big booming thunderstorms last night, which cleared the air and cooled things down. It was still overcast this morning, and it was ever so pleasant. I do a lot of thinking on my walks.

Very Old Dogs, Maria and Giacomino

I've been, oh, a little um... down lately. First Aynex moved, then on Tuesday, my dear friend Jeanie moved to California. (I'll write about that later when it's not quite so raw.) I am watching my Very Old Dogs, Giacomino and Maria, get more fragile by the day. Lately, the two of them, who have always been devoted chow hounds, have been skipping entire meals. Also, I've had to help my son financially for the last year, a little more than I could afford to. I cleverly gave up my income for six months to work on the novel. And a week from today I'll be at the World Dog Show in Stockholm, Sweden.

"Oh, Sweden!!!" you say. "How marvellous!"

Yes, to one not so cuckoo as I. Leaving Bill with all nine dogs, even for an evening, always makes me feel like a creep. Like I'm taking advantage of him. Leaving the two Very Old Dogs makes me plain old crazy. I don't like to leave them for a day. Ten days? Psychotic. And then there's that financial stuff. The credit card which was designated to pay the airline ticket to Sweden and the hotel? That's the one I've been using to help my son pay some bills. Oops.

So I've been sewing like mad to pay down the credit card, not spending so much time on the blog (and watching the readership dwindle), and thinking "What on EARTH am I doing trying to write a novel and putting us under all this financial pressure and I am the biggest stupidest dork on the planet." And because of all that, there will be NO dog shows or agility trials for us for the rest of this year. Not one.

A little down.

This morning I was on the last walk with the young'uns - Sam I Am, Swede William, and Lindy Loo. On the first walk with Giacomino and Maria, we saw a stupid city squirrel, and we chased it! I let them run, in their bouncy, teetery exuberance, with me running behind, leashes of course in hand. It was an extraordinarily stupid city squirrel, and I thought Giacomino was actually going to get a mouthful of stupid city squirrel tail. Oh they were delighted with that adventure and they beamed and wagged, and for the first time in years, the Very Old Dog lifted - precariously, but authentically - his leg on the very next telephone pole. I could hear him say, "I still got it."

Next, I played tickle butt with Fat Charlie and Mama Pajama on their walk and they did silly butt scoots and spins, with grinning shiny eyes, appreciating the cool morning. They will turn eleven on Sunday.

The young'uns need no encouragement to enjoy their walk, but I got them stirred up anyway, just for fun. That can be hazardous, as the three of them add up to one hundred pounds of fast dog, which can go from zero to thirty mph in two seconds, and can achieve top speeds of around thirty-five mph.

As we were walking along, being silly and looking out for stupid city squirrels and evil kitties, we passed a bank parking lot. In this town when you pass someone on the street you exchange pleasantries. Always. "Mornin'. Nice and cool, isn't it?" Only this man did not make the prerequisite eye contact.

He got out of his expensive car, in his pressed white monogrammed shirt and his tie and his black pants. He opened the back door to retrieve his tailored suit jacket. He wore a sad, resigned, miserable expression on his face. Like an animal which had been caged for so long that it no longer cared to live.

And there was my epiphany.

I realized that I had been able to help my so deserving son when he needed it. What more could a parent ask? It is a fact that Giacomino will leave us, and probably not too long from now, but I have been blessed with him for fourteen years of delight. And, at thirteen and a half, Maria already has lived longer than either of my first two precious whippets and has made us laugh every day of her life. It dawned on me that Bill is more than willing to take care of the dogs, and, I epiphed, that the trip to Sweden will be a once in a lifetime magical opportunity. I can spend the rest of this year practicing my dogs like crazy, so when we do get back to competition, we will rock!

And the book? You know what? This book is stinkin' good! I was telling my friend and cheerleader and advisor Rhonda about the main events in the climax, while we were on the phone yesterday. "Oh my God, I've got goose bumps all over," she cried. "Seriously, chills!" It is a story which is telling itself, through me. And I know, I know that everyone who cares about their dog will love this book.

So, I looked at the sad caged man with all the money in the world and I decided it would be a crime if I let the financial pressure - which I created - rob me of the incredible blessings heaped on my head. If I let Giacomino and Maria's fragile last days, or even their death steal from me that joy they have so freely given, I do them a terrible disservice. And if I don't finish this book, I believe it would be a crime against the generous spirit of my husband, and a slap in the face of the universe which told me to tell the story. And if I don't enjoy my trip to Sweden, then I'm just stupider than the stupidest of stupid city squirrels.

I don't know about you, dear readers, but I am going to go hug every single one of my nine precious hounds.


Then I'm going to give Bill a kiss.

It Can't Be Comfortable

... but this is Lindy Loo's favorite sleeping position.

I would say it's an anomaly, but it's her Uncle Fat Charlie's very favorite position, too.

Happy napping!

Hug your hounds

Surprise!

Oh, dear readers, much delight and chubbiness abounds in this house!


You remember we went to see our dear friends Carolyn and Greg and Easy, Spice, Finesse, Early, Beauty, Bea, and Jack. (We missed Quincy who was off visiting a friend of his and getting his Championship while he was at it. A magically nice person whisked him away while Carolyn was going for chemo and radiation, and brought him back after he won that last big major he needed to be a Champion in the AKC's eyes. He already was one in Carolyn's. But that magically nice person made Carolyn and Greg very happy.)




[The handsome Easy. photo by Carolyn]

Anyway, while I was visiting them in their beautiful town, we went to the most wonderful old-fashioned grocery store. It was like it had jumped right out of the sixties! Oh my their local meats would make you dogs roll over in ecstasy, and baked goods and produce, and they got fish flown in on Fridays, and it was just amazing.


But when we were in line to check out, I spied something that made me cry out in delight! They had SKY BARs! I had not seen one Sky Bar in thirty years. When I was a little person, a trip to the movies was an Exciting Event, not necessarily due to the film, but because I could buy a SKY BAR!!!


Well, what came in the mail yesterday? From Carolyn and Greg in western Pennsylvania?


Yes they did! They sent me THREE SKY BARS!!! There are only two pictured, because of that chubbiness mentioned earlier. And Swede William figured since it was his birthday, he could self serve from the counter, but I caught him in the nick of time! I gave him a bowl of ice cream with whipped cream last night for celebrations, but I did NOT share my SKY BAR with him, other than what he had already licked. I am a big chubby human hog when it comes to my SKY BAR.


I have way better friends than I deserve, that's all I can say. Thanks Greg and Carolyn!


hug your hounds

Happy 2nd Birthday, Swede William!

Then..

Now!!!

We celebrated his birthday by taking formal photos for his Nana Lisa in Sweden.

Swede William was so impressed!

Hug your hounds

Shhhhhhhh

This is what we're doing.



and this



The grands have gone home.

[Leif, William, Abigail, and Cleo]

We miss them already, but both the humans and the hounds in the house are, to quote our English friends, knackered.
We had a great grand time with the grands! And their parents, too. The visit was especially stress free for me, because for the very first time, the children were old enough that the whippets had no confusion. They recognised them as human beings and not prey.
Having your husband's grandchildren seen in the eyes of some of your "specialer" dogs as a small thing to be chased down and eaten is NOT conducive to good mental health.
I may not have given the dogs enough credit. They might have done just fine from day one. But, and this is a large but, I was never willing to take the chance. I really didn't want a child with hamburger where their face was supposed to be, and I didn't want to have to put a dog down. So, my way of coping was to keep the "specialer" dogs and children totally separated, never the twain to meet. Giacomino and Maria, Sammy and Mama Pajama were always fine, supervised, but the rest... I just didn't know for sure, and I for sure didn't want to find out the wrong way.

Only there was little cooperation in this endeavor, folks thinking that I was being over cautious or psychotic, and what did I know about dogs?
So, in years past there was the time that I came back in the house from scooping duty to find the dogs released from the dog room, and a young grandchild facing the most special of the special dogs. The dog was backed into a corner, the grandchild was doing the ET scream, hands waving in the air, and every tooth in the dog's face was on vivid display.
And another time when as the mothers and I drove up to our house from shopping, the dogs, who had been crated in the dog room when I left, ran up the street to greet us. The front door was open, and the crates were open, and the gate to the yard was open. And a distant neighbor was wanting to show me the rip in the seat of his pants where Luciano had bitten him.
Now, I give special Looch all kinds of credit. He did not bite either of the grandchildren who were running around under his long pointy nose for the biting. He did not. But when the distant neighbor (who, truth be told is a little special himself, in that he wears all khaki and presses an ancient transistor radio to his ear, next to his khaki baseball cap as he walks aimlessly and harmlessly around the neighborhood) approached the small grandchildren, Looch apparently felt the need to bite the man in his butt.
He did not break the skin. And I gave the man money for new pants and prostrated myself in apology. He still walks by our house and waves a pleasant hello with the hand which is not holding the radio, so I believe he holds no grudge.

But nothing remotely like that happened on this beautiful visit.

On this visit the kids walked the dogs.


William walked Swede William who is named after William. It gets a little confusing, like when I yell, "William don't you dare eat that poop before I can get to it!" as I'm scooping, William the boy looks at me and says, "Gramma Patience, don't worry!"


And in addition to chalking the sidewalk, they chalked each other.


We made awesome thrift store finds!


And Cleo shared her amazing origami skills on the dinner napkins, making the table oh so festive!


Swede William tried to convince the non-doggers that they were missing out on the very best thing in life.


And gave boy William's frog a ride!


Fat Charlie demonstrated how we all felt when they left... We just wanted to curl in a ball and wish they were back.

After a little nap.

hug your hounds

Artistic, dog loving visitors!

Poppop showing how to make a clay monotype.

creative juices flowing

sidewalk art! Sammy and Very Old Dog look on.

Lindy Loo says "That's ME! You can tell by the spots!"

Very Old Dog says, "Zzzzzzzzzzzz. Ah, sun bath! Life is good."

Now that is the truth!!! Cleo is one SMART little human:

Dogs Rule!

hug your hounds

Visitors!

Hello, dear readers! I beg your indulgence while we have visits from children and grandchildren.
To keep you entertained and not waste your click in coming here, I moved the all time favorite posts up so they are just to the right -> -> ->

They are in order of popularity, and I updated and added some to the list. You can help me out by reading my Rescue! story and telling me if you think I should submit it to a writing contest.

I will post some photos of the adorableness going on here, but in the mean time, enjoy some stories!

hug your hounds

We're Back

[all of the photos are from a couple of years ago, and are all courtesy of Laurie Erickson.]

I went to see my dear friends, Carolyn and Greg, way up in western Pennsylvania. They have whippets and are my source of advice for all things. That's Carolyn (the beautiful one in pink) with me (the goofy one in yellow) and Greg is in the chair in back wearing a baseball hat. Carolyn knows everything about whippets, and I mean everything. And Greg knows everything about RV'ing. And he can tell a story that you end up laughing so hard that your tummy hurts and you have tears running down your face and you peepee your panties. Like the time their pop up camper wouldn't pop up and they had to stay in it, well... Greg tells it best.


Two of their dogs, eleven year-old littermates Easy and Spice are buddies of mine. Easy and Fat Charlie were best friends. They were the same speed, so when they raced, it was often in the very same races. (Whippets race for fun and championships, like terrierists do the earthdog tests, not like greyhounds. No betting, no money, just fun, fun, fun!) I would take Easy and Fat Charlie to the starting box, and Carolyn would pick them up at the end. Or sometimes we'd walk the 200 yards down together.) There is not much in the world whippets love more than racing. So Fat Charlie and Easy associated each other with the bestest fun. And Spice is a perfect mirror image of my Maria, and they were about the same speed and would be in the same races, and I would pick up Maria at the end of a race, only to have Carolyn say, "That's Spice!"




Carolyn giving Fat Charlie a cooling sponge off and a kiss after a race.


I haven't seen Easy for at least four years and it's been more than six years since I've seen Spice.


When I arrived, Greg and Carolyn were still at the doctor's office. At the door, eight whippets were doing their best impression of house-guarding Dobermans. As I peeked in, I saw the recognition in Spice's and Easy's eyes. First a little spark of puzzlement. Then a smile. I said, "Hey Easy Boy! Spicey Girl!" And then full blown Whippet Excessive Greeting Disorder - heaven to my ears.




"WOOO-HOOOOOOOOO," sang Easy and Spice! "It's youuuuuuuuuuuuu!!!

Hellooooooooooooooo!"



They danced their delight, and then the younger gang, who also know me but not as well, joined in the welcome. Once I was in the house, Easy and Spice turned inside out, and I hugged the living daylights out of them. I had rubbed my dress all over Fat Charlie and Maria before I left my house, so Easy and Spice got a good "sniff picture" of them. (I did the same thing in reverse before I came home. Fat Charlie and Maria and Giacomino and Mama Pajama and Sam I Am who loves Carolyn wagged and wagged as they snuffled in my suitcase. I think when the dogs get smells of far away friends they smile, just like when we see a photo of someone we love who's away from us.)



My visit was purely selfish. I actually stayed at some very kind and generous friends of Carolyn's, so as not to make more work for them, and to let them have their evenings to themselves. Carolyn is fighting brain cancer. We had our booths next to each other the last week of April in Oregon at the National (which we've done since 1997) and she seemed her absolutely usual brilliant funny smart shining self. (She later said she was having a hard time thinking of the word she wanted.) The next week her leg went funny. Now she has had brain surgery and is going through chemo and radiation. Mind you, this week when I couldn't think of a word, she found it for me. And even though I'm an RN, she came up with a better way than I could to keep track of her meds. And she was feeding her eight whippets and fixing our meals and doing the laundry and keeping up with her email and thank you notes. And making jokes. I couldn't keep up with her.

See why she is my hero? So that's why I had to go, and that's why it was for me. No "oh how noble of you to go" comments. Nope. Please, though, if you could send some positive energy, if you could offer a prayer for Carolyn and Greg, I'd appreciate it. Sometimes life just seems unfair beyond our human comprehension.

The dogs have the right idea. Enjoy every day, and rejoice at seeing friends.


[Greg and Carolyn gave me that shirt. It says Official Dog Walker: FREQUENT STOPS]

hug your hounds, and your friends and your friends' hounds

Not a story, not a poem

Just personal stuff. I'm going to fly to PA tomorrow to visit a friend, and I don't think I'll have Internet access for a while (til Thursday). I won't have access to my waggle either (insert horror film scream like Psycho) but I will have lots of access to my friend's whippets whom I haven't seen in a long time.

Giacomino is doing so well on the meclizine that I'm going to talk to my dear Ol' Poke 'n Stick about keeping him on a low dose for the rest of his life.



Thanks again for

1. suffering with me through poetry week


2. reading my blog at all


3. and thanks to you all who ordered from my website; I've gotten all the orders done, and you helped to let me go see my friend. (Those of you who know who my friend is, know how much this means.)

Our dog show was awesome and I am sooooo proud of our little club! Every member worked hard but had fun doing it and the judges, exhibitors and spectators were liberal with their compliments. Here's an article I wrote about the show before it happened. I didn't get to show my own dogs because I missed the entry deadline (oh there's that horror scream again), but I got to handle someone else's whippet to a Group 2 today!

Oh dear, I leave for the airport in six hours...

Here are some silly photos of ''Special" Luciano finding a comfy place to sleep, to Fat Charlie's dismay.

Good night, and hug your hounds and please send good vibes to my nine, and my saint of a husband.

We did it!

That's it. We did one week of poems.

To celebrate this dog blog's home.

I'm crosseyed and tired

My brain is expired

The only word I can say now is "ohm".

Dear Very Old Dog is much better!

Your help hit the nail on the letter!

And good old meclizine

Made our precious boy Beans

Return to his normal go getter!

I thank you Dear Readers for caring

And for all your good wishes sharing

Right now I must sleep

For my eyes I can't keep

... open

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Blithering Senile Idiot, Oh MY!

I think I was just a bit too ambitious;

All this poetry seems so capricious.

Our Kennel Club hosts our dog show tomorrow.

Do you have some energy that I could borrow?

I'm falling asleep between each of these lines.

I must be there by seven, dressed to the nines.

Not to show my dear dogs who love to be shown.

This idiot human forgot to enter her own.

So I'll sell raffle tickets and steward the rings,

I sold ads in the catalog for all kinds of things.

And I'll worry all day about Very Old Dog

He'll stay home with Bill and sleep like a log.

Cause today he got dizzy again and fell down

And I left the show grounds and zoomed back into town,

To sit on by his side til the drugs took effect.

I see him like that and I am quite a wreck.

But he's better tonight and he will be ok.

It just makes tomorrow a much longer day.

Enough of this blither, I must go to sleep.

I'd be ever so grateful if you would keep

A Very Old Dog in your thoughts and your prayers.

For sweetest of hearts, there's none that compares.

hug your precious hounds and sweet dreams

Fortissimo !

These nine dogs do love a good song.

If I start, they all sing along.

Lips form perfect ohses

With up-thrusted noses

And "Ah-wooos" rise up from the throng.

If a visitor comes to our house,

Saying "hush, dogs" I feel like a louse!

But shush them I must

Or eardrums would bust

And it plucks the last nerve of my spouse.

True they purely can raise a great racket!

It can sound quite like an attack! It

Is Noise at its sweetest -

Sirens could not compete, it's

Not joy or sheer volume they lack.

When you chance by our home in the city
You might hear that sound which is pretty

Of musical hounds

Whose loudness astounds

As they howl out their delightful ditty!

Hug your howlin' hounds

[Have you wondered why all the poetry? We had our 56,000th page view of this blog! We missed the 50,000th entirely, and now it's up to 58,421 anyway, so we are having a little celebration! That's all.]

Very Old Dog

From when he was a tiny scared bit
Of someone else's trash,
To now.
A great, creaky uncle so gentle with the world.

Fourteen. Fragile as the hopeful wish
Of a poor child,
At night.
Until he sees my walking shoes go on.

How extraordinarily privileged we are.
To share this soul,
Goodness.
Someone else's trash. My treasure.







hug your hounds

Time for a Walk?

Could we go for a walk, just around several blocks?
Do you s'pose that is too much to ask?
I see that you're tired and your job has you wired;
Is a walk an impossible task?

I lay here on the floor with my ears to the door
Waiting patiently for your return.
Now you're home, oh hooray! And if you'd only say
Those sweet words for which I dearly yearn.

I was good all day, though I did go astray
And surf that perfectly grand stick of butter!
I could easily see that you left it for me
Right there in the countertop clutter.

And I chewed up your shoe, cause it smelled just like you
And that made me feel close to your heart.
I must say that my tummy feels awfully rumbly-
Oops! There went one: I let a big fart!

No, don't plop in your chair! You'll get stuck sitting there,
And I'll never get my exercise.
I'll explode into bits and collapse into fits.
Wait! I know! I'll stare deep in your eyes.

See how I adore you, and now I implore you
To take me and the ball to the park.
Oh it's working: you're up, and you've put down your cup!
"Yahoo, yippee, tra la la," I bark!

I don't ask for much and isn't it really such
A most glorious wonderful day?
You are smiling now too, this is so good for you;
You're the very best human, I say!





hug your walkin' humans

Thank a Dog!

When your life is downright lousy, hug a dog.

Or if you're feeling sad and drowsy, hug a dog.

A dog'll make things better

And your face a whole lot wetter.

For happy kisses and reminisces, hug a dog.

If your walking feels so lonely, take a dog!

If your talking is baloney, tell a dog.

A dog will point out squirrels and flowers,

And listen to blah blah blah for hours!

He will nudge you, never judge you, will that dog.

If you want a glimpse of heaven, see a dog.

To hear clearly words unsaid, then be a dog.

If we'd only pay attention,

With a smidge of comprehension,

We'd learn forgiving and joy of living from a dog.

If you're needing understanding, there's your dog.

And if dinner's he's demanding, feed that dog!

Let his wagging tail amuse you

An occasional fart abuse you,

Thank stars lucky, life is ducky with your dog.

hug your poetic hounds