Saturday, November 29, 2008
It's a fabulous happy story, about Dru Bear the Maltese/terrier mix.
Marie rescued Dru Bear from the Lexington pound, because the then six year old looked so terrible. Then Dru Bear turned right around and rescued Marie back, just by loving her so much. Marie figured if her little dog could love her with such a huge big love, then she could love herself a little bit.
Read all about it HERE.
Hug your hounds
Thursday, November 27, 2008
I have a regular "gig" in the Paducah Sun. In a section called
Local bloggers are featured, and we are given assignments to write about. Today's topic was
When I think Turkey Day I think...
And I wrote:
… about a soggy oyster and Rex, my childhood mutt.
Rex always proudly greeted people with a gift. He would pick up whatever was immediately available: a scrap of paper, a leaf, my dirty underwear out of the laundry pile. He strutted around with his treasure, offering it to any worthy hand. One Thanksgiving, our next door neighbors ate at our house. My best friend, 11-year-old Sandy, didn’t appreciate the oyster he found in his stuffing, but was too polite to leave it on his plate.
Rex had never been fed a morsel from the table, but would lie quietly underneath, waiting for the meal to end, when he would “gift” us with any dropped napkins.
I can still hear my mother’s shriek, when, two hours after the meal, Rex dropped Sandy’s soggy oyster into her outstretched hand, proud as ever.
You can meet the other featured bloggers at Bizzyville and at the iList Paducah Blog.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
These tools, well, they're familiar friends really, have left me. Left town altogether. Vamoosed.
I think it's this new bloggy place to express myself. I mean this blog is for you, dear readers. So I can't bore you with wallowing. Ah... maybe another reminiscence?
Maria loved to lure course. I can't find any photos of her coursing, because she was in the days before digital photography. In lure coursing three dogs of the same breed chase a lure - three white garbage bags - on a string around a series of turns (think of the cats cradle string game, only instead of your fingers, there are pulleys nailed into the ground).
Whippets LOVE this game. Well, they love any game that involves running and chasing.
Maria was pretty fast, and her small size made her very agile; she could turn on a dime. She got her field champion title in fairly short order.
But there are RULES to this game. Number one rule is no aggressive activity ever. In lure coursing muzzles are optional, and most don't use them. (They are used for dogs who feel the urge to bite at the moving string or dive at the baggies, most often.)
Maria developed her own rules. RULES, I should say. Once she had moved up into the Field Champion division, some of the more experienced runners would cheat. Meaning, instead of following behind the baggies, they would guess which way the course would turn, and cut the corner. Maria was Highly Offended by this and would respond by running over to the cheater and SCREAMING, no, by SCREAMING in his or her ear.
"CHEATY PANTS CHEATY PANTS YOUR MOTHER IS A BASSET HOUND!!!"
I don't know why, but the judges took this as a sign of aggression, and no more lure coursing for the mouthy little redhead.
But she could race.
In racing, the whippets run in groups of six, out of a starting box, for 200 yards straight. No turns, no cheating. In racing they chase a furry lure, with a squawker inside, and a white garbage bag too. In racing, muzzles are mandatory, because all six whippets get to the end at around the same time, all bent on mauling the evil squawker lure.
Oh Maria did LOVE to race.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Fat Charlie, who is 11 years old, and is sweet as sugar, stands and wags and stares at me. Two hundred and sixty-seven times a day.
I think he's trying to tell me that I lost her. That in my senile servitude, I've dropped off his Maria and forgotten to pick her up. So he's gotten three breakfasts a day and countless kisses, and I'm trying to go on and make life around here as usual.
This is a great spot for pee mail, and sometimes there's a cat poop to try to nab.
Is that not the sweetest, most adorable face?
Giacomino just goes around one block. He loves his walk.
Here we are downtown, and I took a picture of us in a store window.
Okay, they'd been as good for as long as they could. Chaos.
Nothing has made so much sense lately, so rocks the size of easy chairs floating down the river... there they were.
Thursday, November 20, 2008
After a particularly long, harrowing day at work, my husband and I fell into bed, exhausted. As we turned to each other in the dark, we were each struck by the thought that something was terribly wrong with the other.
There was a smell. A very bad smell.
OK, there had been plenty of garlic in the pasta, but this odor went way beyond garlic breath.
First we thought the other had suddenly developed a gross deficiency in his/her personal hygiene. Then we thought the other must have a terrible infection somewhere awful.
I sat up and turned on the light.
"Bill," I said.
"Patience!" he said.
"I don't have any infected, unhygienic anything," we both said.
I jumped out of bed and peeled back the sheets. Nothing. I lifted the pillows, and
there was our little gift: a putrefied slimy long-dead baby bird.
Maria had snuck it in from the yard and buried it under the pillow. Just for us!
After we changed the sheets and took a shower just for good measure, Bill and I laughed ourselves to sleep.
Years later, we still check under the pillows before getting in bed.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
February 7, 1995 - November 18, 2008
Monday, November 17, 2008
Looky here, I made a new blog
Have a visit and have fun. I'll be putting all KINDS of fun stuff on (so I can afford to finish my book) and so you can have the coolest holidays EVER.
Thanks. I mean it.
hug your hounds
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
A massive dog fighting ring.
My wonderful vet, Ol' Poke 'n Stick himself, whom you've met many a time on this blog, had the ugly job of assisting the Sherriff's office in the investigation.
You can read it HERE.
hug your hounds
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Meet Mortise the Boxer HERE. Mortise is one cool dude. He ate a box spring. And half a couch.
And just a note: I am finishing my book. This leaves me with no time. Every spare second goes to the book.
PLEASE understand!!! And please be forgiving. I feel like I have abandoned you, dear readers, after all your tremendous support. I am trying to produce something which you will enjoy, and be proud of, and take credit for. Yup, you all can take a lot of credit for this book. You have given me strength, courage and confidence (not a feeling at which I excel), and knowing you are waiting has kept me on task.
Okay, back to work for me!
hug your hounds