The Many Benefits of Having Laurie as My Friend

Minnesooooooooota Laurie, that is. She just happens to be a talented photographer, as well as a kind, caring, understanding, funny, advice giving, dog training, always ready for a laugh or a hug friend. Oh I could go on forever but here's what I'm talking about today!


First, here's Laurie in a photo that her sister took. Laurie's on the left, then goofy me, then Laurie's 89 year old dad with whom I'm a little bit in love, watch out Bill! then Crystal who went with me to Minnesota (and to Sweden a couple of years ago if she looks familiar) and who was trying to snag Mr. Erickson with her blond hair and blue eyes and I had MY green eyes on her yes I did!

I digressed.

So, Laurie is this fantastic photographer. I get awesome show photos.


(Okay, if you look carefully, I'm trying to be a real pro by tossing the liver and catching it. But notice how the liver is bouncing off my wrist and will soon hit the ground? Yeah, I'm cool!!!)



Lindy Loo looking glamorous!

But then there are the candids. Oh my heart! Absolute TREASURES, and there are tons more. It's impossible to choose which to share so I just randomly picked some.



Sweet essence of Sam I Am

Mia - Oh breath-taking!

Swede William and Sam - pure art

More art - Lindy Loo in the sunshine

But then...

there's the risk ... well, remember how your mother told you if you made a face it might stick like that forever?

Oh boy!!!

LAURIE!!!!!

I sure am lucky. And she did formal portraits, too. Wait til you see them!!!

hug your friends and your hounds

How to Walk Dogs Backwards

Stella asked how we manage to walk three dogs, backwards, while filming, as seen in the video on the previous post.

It's easy. I am a marvellous dog trainer. I wish I could share my secrets with you, but really it is an inborn talent. A gift. Like charisma, this can't be taught or learned, it just is.

the end-
Patience

Who's training whom????

[Sam I Am here. I've distracted the Dear Servant momentarily. (No great challenge there, bless her heart. As the humans say in these parts. It translates into: the woman hasn't got a single bone to chew on.) We let her think that she has some magical gift of whatever she was talking about. It makes her feel good about herself, and honestly she has so little to feel good about that every little bit helps.

Here is the real scoop. The Elders tell me that in the Olden Times they all walked together in fields and woods full of every sort of delectable vermin. They speak of fox, groundhogs, bunnies, evil squirrellies, and something magical called deer. Of course the Elders knew that the Servant was crippled, blind, and senseless, so they would allow her to tether herself to them so she wouldn't get lost. As clumsy as she was, even back in her relative youth, more often than not she would land with an 'ooph' on her bouncy belly whenever the vermin were sighted.

A large, gelatinous, human anchor. Screaming obscenities with her face in the mud. (Makes me giggle just a little bit to think of it. Silly human.)

Here and now we walk in this city. No fields, unless she drives us to the Kennel Club. No fox, no groundhogs, no magical deer. (I sure would like to chase one of those one day; they sound great!) Plenty of Evil City Squirrellies who show no respect, Evil C.A.T.s who are V.I.L.E., loose dogs who are danger-danger-dangerous, and lots of cars and trucks.

She doesn't walk us all at once any more. She makes us take Turns. I get two turns because I have taken my Great Uncle Giacomino's place and she can't stand to be away from me for a minute and a half. When it's not our Turn we wait in our Dog Room and get a biscuit and howl our heads off to let her know how stinky not-our- Turns are.

It's taken us eight years, but we finally trained her. She used to (close your ears, Dogs, this is for the humans only) jerk on our necks and froth at the mouth and yell something which made no sense like nonobaddogs or some such unintelligible nonsense. Of course we payed absolutely NO attention to this demonstration of human stupidity; we barked louder and pulled harder. REALLY! I mean. She's not a bad human, but, sigh, she is a human.

One day she had a treat in her pocket. We were dutifully alerting her to the danger of a horrid, rabid, stinkypoopbutt C.A.T. at the top of our lungs and she was getting ready to behave badly. I said, "Hey Idiot Servant! You have treats in your pocket. They might be more interesting than that ol' stinkypoopbutt C.A.T."

She didn't get it (no surprise) so I bumped her pocket with my wonderful long skinny nose.

HELLO!!! LIGHTBULB!!! The human thinks she has a GREAT IDEA!!! Don't you just love them? So now our walks are a treat a minute. We don't pull her? We get a treat. We don't bark our heads off? We get more treats. Treats treats treats!!!

Yah, life is good. We can still bark our heads off at anything we want when we're in our Yard. Unless she's near the Flying Object Of Doom (she calls it the plastic watering can). Then we just run to her instead, and... GET TREATS!!! They are so easy to train if you are consistent and get on their level.


goose your humans-

Sam I Am]

Bells a'Ringing !

My much admired Canadian blogging friend, Barry, has finished his Chemotherapy. There is a tradition in the Cancer Center where he is being treated: the client rings a big, brass bell after the infusion of his last Chemo. But for our beloved Barry, would just the one bell do?

No way!

On the actual day that he finished, hundreds of bloggers joined him and bells rang all over the world.

I am quite tardy, but I am also a charter member of the Better Late Than Never Club. As I read the blogs which I've missed during my work imposed, funk imposed, not-enough-hours-in-the-day imposed blog exile, I realised I needed to Ring a Bell, late or not!

So, I called on the Waggle to help, of course.

My charge nurse at my new job gave all of her crew a gift for Christmas. I was touched to be included, as I had only been on the floor for a couple of weeks. I received a cute little Santa doorknob decoration with a jingle bell.

Swede William was the first to learn that if he rang the bell when he wanted to go out, he got our attention faster. The rest soon caught on. So I imagine Santa will be a permanent fixture on the kitchen door!

Without further ado (and, unfortunately without the knowledge of how to edit these videos) Here are the BELLS FOR BARRY!!!

Hugs today are for Barry, Linda, and Lindsay!

Friday My Town Shoot Out - Look Up Look Down

So LAST week's assignment was Look Up Look Down, but I got confused and did THIS week's topic (circles) last week. So here is Last Week's topic this week.

I am a dedicated acrophobe, so no no no you won't see any photos from great heights. Oh no.

There is nothing more uplifting than looking down and seeing Mama Pajama with a snow nose:
(Mama Pajama survived a horrible anti-immune disease at age six, which claimed most of her ears, one lung, and a good deal of her kidney function. It did NOT claim her spirit or her life, and at twelve and a half she is my hero.)

Hardly anyone in these parts bothers to shovel. They are tickled by the snow and figure it's going to melt anyway. Looking down Monroe St.

Looking up at the appropriately named A.I.R. Studio sign. (A.I.R. stands for Artist In Residence. If you want to come live in Paducah's Art District for a week or a month, this is the spot.)

The whippets are fascinated with looking down the storm drains. So am I. They are made of brick and they are ancient. At night they serve as a raccoon Interstate. Whole families emerge to check out whats going on in Lower Town.

Looking up in the newest gallery's window, I think "Hey! There we are!" Only I can't imagine walking whippets in heels! Studio 7 features these art rugs.

Looking up at Paducah Yoga Center.

Looking down in front of the Yoga Center - ah, yes, the famed Snow Angel Pose!

Looking upstream: on the left is the Ohio River; on the right is the Tennessee River. I thought we were in Kentucky?

Looking downstream towards the Mississippi. I think Kentucky has an identity problem.

Looking up Broadway from the river.

Looking down Broadway towards the river. The farthest trees are in Illinois.

Looking up a giant snow bank at Sam I Am the King of the Mountain!

And looking down at little Lindy Loo who wanted to be.

Well that's it from my town. If you want to see fantastic photos from towns all over this world by much better photographers than I, just click on the camera on the right of this blog. It's really fun!

hug your hounds and stay warm and safe

Sammy the Saint and Literary Doings

It's been a fun-packed time around these parts.

I went to my first-ever writers' retreat and learned oh my gosh so much. The presenters (see below for some great book recommendations) were enormously talented, and helpful, and funny, and did I mention talented? As were the other participants. I think I did a very bad job of being me: I felt like I said exactly the wrong thing at every opportunity; like I picked the absolute wrong choice of my writing to read; like I was a big impostor who-did-I-think-I-was boob for being there. Do you know what I mean?

I felt like I had shrunk so far as to be nearly invisible.

But once I cast aside my ego, bruised and pulpy from nothing but my own demons pounding the poop out of it, I emerged more educated, more determined, and strangely - after a couple of weeks of being back home with the dogs and Bill - more confident.

Our Kennel Club hosted our four day autumn Agility Trial. Two words? It. Rocked. I stayed too busy to be frustrated by the fact that Sammy wasn't entered. For the most part. But the judges were happy, the competitors were happy, the club members were happy, and the facility was great. We got the most spectators ever and they loved it. The dogs were spectacular. The club fed dinner to about eighty guests and I'm still full!

And yesterday Sam I Am and I did a book signing/reading at Western Kentucky Community and Technical College. I am not usually that nervous at a reading. But the recent humility of the writers' retreat, coupled with the fact that I would know so many in the audience, including and especially Bill, I was a mess and a half.

It poured. I mean there were flash floods and closed roads. I followed Heather (of Emmett and Baby Ben fame), and as we walked to the library I thought, If Heather weren't leading me I'd never find this place, and if I knew where it was I surely wouldn't come in this rain.

I figured I'd be reading to Bill, Heather, Kim who invited me to read, and Lee, who was bringing Bill. The thought of no one coming made me even more nervous.

But they did come. Lots of people. Oh I was glad to have Sam I Am with me. At first he was confused: since when were his Bill and his Heather and his Lee and his walking buddy Tracey at a therapy setting or a reading? But he was so good. I usually bring a little bed for him, but I forgot, so I put his coat on the floor.

Heather sat in the front row, and when she cried during Opie's Song, Sam sat with her for a bit. When I read The Wild Dinner Party and he heard his name, he rejoined me at the podium. The audience was so very kind and generous. I stumbled over more words than usual because of my nervousness, but folks were forgiving. My sweet friend Deb came and took these pictures. Thanks, Deb.

These stories are always so well received. They certainly aren't great literature. They're just little stories. But I think it's because they come from the dogs. That's why people like to hear and read them.

They come straight from the dogs, and all of our dogs speak the same language, don't they?

hug your hounds

Or better yet, sneak them cookies like Lee did! You ROCK, Lee!

*** Book recommendations from the writers' retreat:

We All Live Downstream - Writings About Mountaintop Removal

edited by Jason Howard

Can A Democrat Get Into Heaven

hysterical!!! by Anne Shelby

The King of Gaheena

by Squire Babcock

Eli the Good

by Silas House

Friends!

Those of you who are Facebook friends or Twitter followers may have noticed that I cleaned the house yesterday. I am not a good Hannah Housewife. I figure I'm married to a man, not a house!

The dogs know something is up when the scrub brush and mops come out. Either we're getting company, or I'm going away. They watch. They all stick a little closer, and listen more carefully to street noises. Will I get out the suitcases?

So, they were on their tippy toes when Susan and Jeanette came through the gate. Susan and Jeanette are good friends. They lived with us for a brief time a couple of years ago, when they were between 'here and there'.

Susan wondered if the dogs would remember them.

Do you think?

.

Hug your hounds

Good Therapy

Sam I Am went to the women's shelter. The weather was rude - sleet, snain, freezing cold - but our visiting room was warm.

I would love to tell you about each visit in minute detail, but of course I can't. But I can share some of the absolute, unqualified miracles performed by one little therapy dog.

We haven't visited in a while. Sam doesn't like visiting the hospital so much, and I've decided to stop going there with him. I think it's just too much for his sensitive self. He's not afraid, he's sad. Sam is so attuned to human worry, pain, fear; I think he is bombarded with too much sickness at the hospital.

So I was relieved to see him wag like crazy when we got out of the van at the shelter and pull me to the visiting room. He jumped around doing the "I'm too sexy for my coat" dance and said hey to the staff member.

And then, when his client came in, he sat facing her on the blankets on the floor and devoted himself to her for the next forty-five minutes. He smiled at her, over an over, because she was so thrilled when he did. He kissed her, Sammy style (nose dabs). Sammy smiles and kisses are rare indeed, but he did both repeatedly. When she said something from her heart, he stared right into her eyes, his own eyes huge and deep.

a rare Sammy smile

I pretty much stay out of the interaction. I will offer a few words. "Dogs don't judge." "Dogs understand feelings, spoken or secret, in a way we humans simply can't." "He likes you."

I watched Sam engage this client. She needed reassurance that she mattered to the dog, and over and over and over, Sam offered a paw, a smile, a kiss, saying as loud as he could, "You MATTER to me!" He did his tricks. He sat, he downed, he play-bowed, he wagged. He bowed his head into her chest and closed his eyes.

By the end of the session, she believed him. Softly she said, "I think you really like me."

I took him outside for a quick pee, just for a break, really. He pulled me right past the van, back to the visiting room to meet his next client.

I watched my little dog transform.

This client was different. She was weeping softly as she sat on the blankets. Sam looked at her. He looked at me for assurance. Good boy. You're fine. You're a good dog, Sammy. He completely changed his manner, his posture, his dialog, his shape. He quietly curled up next to her. Her hand never stopped stroking him - not once in the next forty-five minutes. He lay quietly, perfectly still, his head resting on her thigh, his eyes not leaving hers. She softly spoke of mistakes made. Dogs don't judge. Of not being able to express herself. Dogs understand feelings, spoken or secret, in a way we humans simply can't. Of feeling unlikable. He likes you - just look at his eyes.

I would have sworn I was watching two different dogs.

Sam - and the whole waggle - got hamburger for dinner.

And my reward? Hearing a woman say, "You know, I feel so much better now. He has really made a difference. I know I'm going to be all right."

hug your hounds

Caption this!

I had a fun idea, I think.

In the comment section below, caption this photo:


(Sam I Am on the left, Lindy Loo on the right)


Then, I'll choose one and write a story based on the premise of the caption.


I like it!


hug your hounds

Linda Arrives!!!

Oh, dear readers, I am a mighty bad blogger. Yes I am. I've said it and I mean it.

I bought batteries. I put the camera right on the kitchen counter, where I couldn't possibly forget. I repeated "I shall take photos, I shall take photos, I shall..."

I opened the kitchen door. Sam I Am looked around me. So did Mama Pajama. Bill had a good hold of Very Old Dog to avoid tippage, either from over excitement or from bumpage and generalized greeting flummadiddle. Fat Charlie came swooping in. Luciano's eyes got huge.

They couldn't believe who I had found. Their Linda!!! The very Linda who Lindy Loo is named for!!! Here right here in our kitchen, brought in with the rest of the groceries!

Since when did Krogers start stocking Their Linda!!!!????

The greeting was sweet, dear readers. Excitement, disbelief, sniffing just to be sure it wasn't a bobo Linda, but no... It was the real thing. Their LINDA!!! Whom they hadn't seen for two years, which is very long in dog time.

But I failed you. So taken was I in the merriment, and so senile am I in the head, I forgot to pick up the stinkin' camera and click.

These are from two hours later, after the meal.

Sammy says, "My Nana Linda."

the rare Mama Pajama kiss, as tolerated by Sam I Am, and witnessed by a happy Very Old Dog

I promise I'll do better tomorrow. I'll try to.

I'll ask Linda to remind me.

hug your hounds

A Festival is coming!

We're having a HUGE festival - beautiful art and live music - right smack in front of our house this weekend! I thought I should dress up our porch a little. I haven't had any potted plants since the puppies were little. They're going to be two this summer so I thought it was time again.


Sam I Am approved.


Maria enjoyed the view from her papasan chair.



I thought the plants coordinated nicely with the toy pot.





Swede William inspected my work.





It did NOT meet Swede William's and Lindy Loo's approval.


So they decorated for me. Better.



The beer and wine garden is at our corner.





And so is the Buzzard Brothers Barbeque. Yippppeeeeee!!!!!
Photos from the festival, coming up next.





hug your hounds

Just Some Photos

Apologies if you were coming here looking for a literary gem. Today I am sharing the pictures of the Birthdays, and I hope you enjoy them.

The Birthday Dogs at the Kennel Club Property, worshipping the Sun.

Sam I Am squeaks.

Very Old Dog remembers.

Lindy Loo exalts.

There were gifts from our friends Karen and Steve. Is that not the coolest lamb in the world?

The HUGE pot of beef and rice and carrots.

There was folderol and excitation.

I cut up the beef and added the veggies.

Had to have a little celebratory Bowser Beer with dinner!

Very Old Birthday Dog approved.

So did Sam I Am.

And for dessert, there were naps all around.

Hug your hounds