Fun Monday #14

Our Fun Monday host this week is Mariposa and she assigns -

Collections... We all have them...and if you don't, you do....you just may not realize it. For some reason or another we all collect something and we collect it for reasons that will definitely make for good reading. So on Monday, I want to see your collection. If you don't have or don't want or CAN'T (wink) show us a picture, then tell us what the collection is in 10 words or less. Then tell us why you started collecting it.

Um... no brainer here.


"tell us what the collection is in 10 words or less"

LOVE: Giacomino, Maria, Charlie, Mama, Luciano, Delia, Sammy, William, Lindy.

"Then tell us why you started collecting it."

I didn't. They started collecting me. And they make me a better person, and they make my life fun, and exciting, and rewarding, and complete. Lucky, lucky me.

Now have a look at the other Fun Monday participants!

hug your hounds

Fun Monday #13 - Ohwa Tajer Kyam (say it fast)

Sauntering Soul is hosting this week. Oh the pain of her assignment!!! The anguish!

• I know we all try to be sweet and kind to people the majority of the time. But let's face it....we also know that sometimes we can be a big jerk. It could be that you experience road rage from time to time. Perhaps you empty the coffee pot at work some mornings and don't feel like taking the time to start a new pot for the next person. Or maybe you don't return phone calls on a timely basis when you know someone needs a response from you. Have you ever "accidentally" ruined a favorite shirt of your spouse just because you didn't care for it? Come on - it's confession time! List the small things you do that make you a jerk and elaborate just a bit on each one. Please tell me I'm not the only jerk around here!

This is just a double whammy for me, because I try hard to respect you, dear readers, and keep this blog all about the dogs. This means I have to confess to my jerkiness with my dogs. Oh the shame of it! Oh the loss of face. Oh the torture!

I try to be the everliving best dog servant alive. I truly do. But I often fail. And it almost always is because I am the Queen of the Organizationally Challenged Order of Grand Jerkdom. So I know I have to do X, Y, and Z in a day. But first I have to check out the blogs, and Whippet World, and my email. And then I have to do some laundry. Time is ticking. Accck! I have to walk the dogs! Hurry up, dogs!!! I have to be at X in an hour. Arrrrgh! Get in your crates! Giacomino don't bite your collar! You are not a horse with a bit; it goes over your head! Maria shut UP!!! Come here. D-O-G-S get over here NOW!!! Who wants a biscuit? Cuss, cuss, stamp, scream.

I rage and flail around like a giant catfish on the river bank, gills flapping and eyes bulging. Total jerk. Totally unnecessary.

I miss entries for shows because I don't pay attention to what day it is. And then there's the training. Part of why I came to Paducah was to have all this time to train the dogs and to write. Except the Queen of Overscheduling Jerkheads is me. No time! No Time! Gotta serve on this committee, gotta go here, there and everywhere. Gotta add more to my plate! No time to train dogs. Just to complain about not having time to train. What a collossal JERK.

And it's no surprise to my close friends, but as long as this is the great confession, I am the worst sort of Procrastination Jerk. I think, "I'll answer that email tomorrow." WHY? Do I think I'll have more time? Or by the time I think to call a friend on the East Coast, it's an hour later there, and it's already too late. Jerk, jerk, jerk.

Well, that is enough of that. I'm late. Because I'm such a jerk.

hug your hounds and pity mine

Fun Monday# 12

This Monday our hostess is Kitten! She says:

• 
  
  I would like to know "Who is Your Hero" Not from TV, but your real life hero. It can one or it can be many. Just someone you have or do look up to. You can do this any way you would like and if you want or can, share pictures!

Oh, boy. I have to be honest. Heroes are not to be taken lightly. My hero runner-up is Mama Pajama. As my long time dear readers know, she has shown courage and dignity in the face of a nasty disease. She loves life completely, and overcame the odds. We had an appointment to put her to sleep five years ago May 12th. She told me "not yet". We celebrate her every day.

Mama Pajama when she was ill.

Mama Pajama now.

But. My hero is my husband. Bill is purely an admirable soul. He sees the good in everyone, and we often joke about his rosy colored glasses. He is supportive, creative, smart, caring, funny, and humble.

I have learned so much from him. I tend towards cynicism, and it's hard for me to trust. I've watched Bill for these twenty-five years, and I see him trust folks and then I see them want to deserve his trust. He is incapable of holding a grudge. He is rarely angry at anyone (present U.S. administration excluded) and if he doesn't get mad, he surely can't stay mad.

People love and respect Bill. How can they not? He's so open with his acceptance, and he so clearly communicates his enjoyment of friends. His opinions are not given lightly, and are educated and fair.

He has accepted these nine dogs of mine - now eight of mine and one of his, since Delia adopted him - without a hiccup. He has cried over my animals. Rosy the rescued mare who came to our farm frightened to death of people, especially men. Later, she would hang over her stall door and rest her big head on his shoulder, with her trusting eyes closed, while he sang to her:

Rosy, Rosy, Give me your answer true.

I'm half crazy over the love of you.

It won't be a stylish wedding,

Cause I can't afford the bedding.

But you'll look sweet

And I'll be neat

When you give me your answer true.

Bill always fractures lyrics. It drives me crazy, but in keeping with his philosophy in life, he doesn't see the problem. His favorite song is Louis Armstrong's What A Wonderful World.

And he cries when he hears it. Every time.

I will never know how I was so fortunate to have shared the last twenty-five and a half years with this man. I figure I must have had a horrible lot in my last life to have been so rewarded in this one.

Hug your heroes, and your hounds.

Fun Monday # 11

This Fun Monday is extra fun, because one of my favorite blogs is hosting: The Lurchers. AOJ assigns:

• All I want you to do is take me on your favourite walk. In words or pictures. Or both of course! Tell me why it's your favourite and point out things of interest on the way.

I've taken you dear readers along on so many walks! As I was leaving a comment on another Fun Monday post, I realised that I am so addicted to walking; I can't imagine my life without it, and if a terrible rainstorm robs me of my walk I feel like I didn't quite have enough air to breathe that day. I'm going to cheat a bit; the following post was from my first week of blogging last September, when I had, oh, two readers (my husband and myself). I think it is perfect for today's assignment, so here it is.

Walk-o-rama in Squirrel City

It is up to me to walk all of the nine dogs this morning. Bill has to go in for some early morning blood tests and he can't have coffee, so he's not going to walk his usual two.This arrangement does not please Delia, who adopted Bill as her Own Human, and the affront of his early morning departure, coupled with the poor substitution of me as her walking companion is nearly too much. To make it even worse, she has to go on the second walk. Humph! Pee-yew to the Inferior Human.

I've been walking the grownups in pairs, although the last walk includes the two yearlings plus Sam I Am. There was a time, back on the farm, when I walked all eight, plus (Saint) Opie the big old black lab, at once. But that was at the farm, and if they took off and dragged my well-padded butt across some plowed field in pursuit of deer, rabbits, ground hogs, or fox, we might emerge bruised and battered, but at least we would emerge. Here, in the city, if they drag me into the street, and there's a truck coming, well it's not a pretty picture.

And then there's the noise factor. We feel compelled to sound the GREAT VERMIN ALERT at the sighting of any squirrel, evil horrible cat, or hairy dog, and we've been known to be fooled by Blowing Trash. And we can make some noise. I have been training them to be quiet by carrying pockets full of treats. If they see any of the Great Vermin subspecies, and they don't bark, they get a treat. It's worked better than any other method I have tried. The 'head bop' method simply taught them to duck while they screamed. And lordy it was a mess when I forgot I had the poop bag in my hand and I bopped Luciano on the head and the poop bag exploded. That was not a good method.

Walking in smaller groups greatly decreases the noise factor, and a pair of dogs doesn't get nearly as riled as a pack of nine.

I did decide to walk in threes this morning. Call me lazy. First three consisted of Giacomino, Maria, and Mama Pajama. The cumulative ages (not counting me) top thirty-six years. Thirteen and a half, twelve and more than a half, and ten and a half. [update: now they are fourteen, thirteen and two months shy of eleven.] That's a lot of dog years. In people years they would be ninety-eight, ninety-one, and seventy-three. In deference to Mama Pajama, we went around two blocks instead of one. On the last leg, a Stupid City Squirrel decided to jump out on the sidewalk ten feet in front of us. Ouch! (Instinct propels the dogs forward playing havoc with my decrepit shoulders.) Good dogs! They regain their brain function and turn to look for their no barking treats. Ouch! Mama Pajama likes a little blood gravy with hers: chomp. I am nonetheless delighted with their restraint.

Then a big treat. Neighbor Lorrie is out in her yard. Lorrie is one of Mama Pajama's Very Favorite People in the Whole World. My little dog wiggles and wags and grins, and praises me for having found Lorrie, and goes back to wagging her delight at Lorrie. Lorrie makes a great fuss over the little sweetheart, and then Lorrie and I catch up.

I have no doubt that I missed the dogs' hints. Lorrie and I were talking away, and I'm quite certain that the dogs were trying to get my attention."You-hoooo??? Hello, idiot Human? Anyone home in la la land? Do you hear that? Do you have a single scent gland in your entire olfactory system? Ears, please?"

"Blah, blah, blah." I was talking to my friend in total oblivion.

So, Mama Pajama sounded the full GREAT VERMIN ALERT.

"Wow," said Lorrie, hands over her ears.

Once a month on the first Saturday at noon, since we live in Tornado country and have a nuclear plant next door, they test the Emergency Alert Siren System. (This can be quite disconcerting to people who have moved here from other parts and don't know it is a test.) The sirens can be heard for miles. They don't hold a candle to Mama Pajama's GREAT VERMIN ALERT.

"Oh, man!" cried Lorrie as blood from her ruptured eardrums trickled through her fingers. "She is loud!"

The Stupid City Squirrel hopped along the telephone wires overhead. I wished he would get electrocuted. (I'm sorry, but I really did.) Giacomino and Maria are head butting me for their treats, because they haven't made a sound. I am mortified as it is only 7:30 in the morning, and this is not at all neighborly.

"Later, Lorrie," I say, dragging the dogs the half a block home. Mama Pajama's eyes are shining; it's been a great morning for her, so far.

Next walk was Mama Pajama's brother Fat Charlie, and the much miffed Delia and her brother Luciano. "Well, it is high time," sniffs Delia. "Second group, indeed. Humph and grumble." But then we're out the gate and heading down the sidewalk and all is forgiven. And there are squirrels everywhere. What is it, National Torment Dogs Day in squirreldom? And I don't help matters. When I see a squirrel or cat as we walk along, I let out an involuntary gasp, usually coupled with an expletive. I can't help it. If the dogs haven't already seen the critter, my gasping and expleting sets them in a fit. They know what it means. In fact, you can sit in the TV room, amid somnolent dog bodies, and I can gasp an expletive and the entire pack will explode and run around looking for vermin. Then they realize they are in the TV room and I have played a joke on them and they shoot me "how could you" looks and try to find a better place to lie down than the one they just vacated.


But the three dogs were fantastic, and I managed to sing songs the whole time to distract myself from gasping and we did fine.

(to the tune of Home on the Range)
Oh give me a home where the squirrellies don't roam
And the sidewalks are all free from prey!
Where the cats stay inside
And the loose dogs all hide
And in peace we would walk everyday...

Only two and a half more miles to go. The third group. I stuffed my pockets full of Really Yummy Treats. I sang. First thing the neighbor's cat comes trotting down the sidewalk towards us. Gasp, expletive, BACK TO SINGING IN A SHOUT:

HOME HOME IN PADOOKEE
WHERE THE VERMIN COME AT YOU IN SPADES,
EVERY CAT EVERY SQUIRREL
IN THIS WHOLE FRIGGING WORLD!
I WOULD LOVE TO LAUNCH ONE HAND GRENADE.

The dogs, along with the workers on the roof next door, look a little frightened of me. I'm a little frightened of me. I have no effect on the squirrels or cats, alas. We must have passed twenty of them. I handed out treat after treat, and I beamed at the dogs. Good dogs! Wonderful dogs! We pass a couple of hairy dogs and we don't make a sound. My nerves are frazzled to the point where I'm quite positive that you can see sparks flying out the top of my head, the ends of my fingers, and probably out my butt too, but the dogs, bless them, haven't screamed once.

And people say, "It's so nice you can walk with your lovely dogs. Isn't it a great way to relax?"

Yah.

If you would like to read my other dog walking stories, click HERE. And be sure to visit The Lurchers to read the other Fun Monday participants! And, as always,

hug your hounds

Fun Monday # 10

Our host for this week's Fun Monday is a Southern Doll

Here is what she wants to know:

• What have you done in your life that was worth doing? I want to know the moments in your life that you hope will be the ones to pass through your mind when your time comes. I hope that doesn't sound too morbid. This doesn't necessarily have to be items you have checked off your Bucket List, it can be those small moments that made you smile, or the time you got that huge promotion you deserved, or the first time your baby smiled at you out of pure joy. I want to know all the moments, big and small, that make life sweet! If you don't already have a running list of these in your mind, you should! These moments help you remember how much your life is worth living, and we all deserve to enjoy it.
  

Oh, ugh. I don't mean ugh to the idea or assignment. Just, oh, ugh.

I used to ride horses. I used to live and breathe horses. The moment that the first foal that was born into my excited, frightened, incredulous arms will be with me always. I named her Naughty Marietta for my mom, who had died years before. (And for Gilbert and Sullivan, of course.) Actually, thinking about it now, I realize that I can close my eyes and bring back the birth of every foal. The smell of the deep nights after the nervous, exhausted, repeated walk out to the barn alone. Every two hours for a week or more. And sometimes I would wrap up in a cooler - a type of thick wool horse blanket - and sleep the rest of the night in the stall. The sounds, the same in every stable in the world, and the heart scents, and the expectant peace. I will take that all with me. I had some fun wins in competition, but when I remember what I loved, it's those quiet times in the barns.

[Stay with me.]

What I value most in my life are the friendships. My most intimate friendship is with Bill. That he values me, knowing all he knows about my shortcomings, doesn't make a lick of sense to me, but he does and oh Lordy am I lucky! I invest a great deal in my friendships. My adult son is a terrific friend. I've enjoyed the transformation of the parental role into less of a see-saw relationship. When I had to move away from my friends - Bill's daughters, Jake's old ponies, and the women who were closer to me than siblings - I floundered. See? Now this is already getting all maudlin; I knew it would.

Ugh.

OK. What I'm really proud of is the mastery I've accomplished at the wielding of the pooper scooper. This was not always so. Until Jim and Sue visited in the fall of '06, I owned no such instrument. I picked up my yard via the Baggie Method. Jim said this would not do, and trundled me down to the pet supply store and found me just the right rake and scoop. And two white five gallon buckets with lids. And I was set. Only for months I flicked poop everywhere but in the scoop. "It's all in the wrist," Jim tutored. I watched him deftly flick a turd, plink, right in the dead center of the scoop. I watched me flick one over the scoop and bonk down my pants leg. And they would get stuck between the tines of the rake. It would take me six, seven, ten flicks per poop, and there I'd be, in my city yard, in my red flannel paws and bones print jammies for all the world and folks driving to work to see, flicking turds here, there and everywhere but the damned thing at which I uselessly aimed.

No more, dear readers, no more! I now can execute ca-ca cleanup with my eyes closed. I've added flourishes for fun. I twirl around my scoop, clicking my heels, a Gene Kelly, singing in the shit and sometimes in the rain, too! Then I use my rake as a jaunty Three Musketeers type of sword. (Why did the Three Musketeers have sword fights, anyway? Shouldn't they have had musket fights?) Take that, poo poo! Into the scooper with you! "What a glorious feeling, I'm happy as spit!"

In one smooth motion, I do an overhead double back spin, catching the crap with the scoop behind my back, and wave to the stupified Trolley driver with the rake as he pulls away from the stop at our corner. Then, wanting to top that for the Mail Lady, I do a flying camel followed by a triple toe loop and plop goes the poop in the scooper. I scoop in evening gowns, just because I can. When I smile as I scoop, a sparkle flies off my tooth, like in a cartoon, and you hear a little "ding!" People come from miles around, to marvel at the poop free yard which houses nine whippet feces factories. Occasionally, I fly out of the back door, crying "Hi Ho, Scooper, away!" and zoom the poop is scooped, and bewildered passersby cry, "Who was that masked dooer of good deeds?"

I am the Queen of Poo.

Top that.

(See if anyone did at Southern Doll's blog.)

hug your hounds

Fun Monday # 9

It's already time for Fun Monday! This week's hosts are the Nekked Lizards, and they came up with this assignment:

• FIVE PICTURES - FIVE WORDS PER PICTURE.
• Any 5 (FIVE) pictures, any subject, and any 5 (FIVE) words to describe and/or explain each picture.

Sounds simple, but for a word monger like me... quite the challenge.

* * *

First.

Loved ferociously.

Gone.

Cherished.

* * *

Old. Every day, a gift.

* * *

Bill's talent storm,

sees light.

* * *

Proud proud proud grateful proud.

* * *

Love the view. Times three.

* * *

Photo credits: (1) Steve Surfman (2) Laurie Erickson (3) WF Renzulli, MD, PSA (4) friend of Jake's (5) me

Now you can go to the Nekked Lizards' page to find the rest of the Fun Monday's fun participants.

then,
hug your hounds

Fun Monday # 8

This week's host is Jo Beaufoix and our assignment is:

I want to know about your first ‘celebrity’ crush. You know, the one you fancied from that band, or that film, or who read the news, or who won Gold at the Olympics. Did you have their pictures on your wall or in your locker? Did you dress like them, style or colour your hair like them, follow them, meet them, marry them? (It could happen.)
Photos of THEM would be good, photos of YOU at the time you liked them would be even better. Also, if you have time, I’d like to know whether they had any influence over your life, the person you became, or if they were just an embarrassing blip you would kind of rather forget about.

Here's the sad truth. I've racked my brains. Nope. None.

I loved the music of James Taylor, Cat Stevens, and Simon and Garfunkel, but I didn't love them.

I was too busy being horse crazy. I spent every waking moment at the barn. Really, I had a crush on a horse. and she was a little, wild thoroughbred who had put several other riders unceremoniously in the dirt. So they let me, the scholarship kid, ride her.

We understood each other perfectly.

I will tell you a funny story. I went to an all girls boarding school. My father was head of the math department and my mom was the nurse. (Hence the scholarship.) By senior year, everyone but I had been able to giggle about having some sexy dream about some movie star. Paul Newman was Deetzie's dream man. My sophomore year roommate was infatuated with Paul McCartney and would dream about him in various compromising situations weekly. Not me.

Then finally I realized I was having one of "those" dreams. I dreamed we were camp counsellors, but we were being paired up with movie stars as roommates! This was it! Someone got Robert Redford. Someone else got Gregory Peck. And even in my dream, Deetzie got Paul Newman. I waited. Who would I get? The next person got James Taylor. Oh my gosh, I could hardly stand myself! I was having a sexy dream, finally. In the dream, they called my name. I stepped forward, provocatively shy in a va va voom kind of way. I fiddled with my long, curly hair.

"Phil Silvers," they called out.

I stopped looking provocative and just looked stunned. That was the clear emotion as I dreamed: duh, huh? nuh-uh.

Sure enough Phil Silvers, Mr. No Time for Sergeants himself, appears and takes my hand and leads me to our camp cabin. I thought to my dreaming self, "Phil Silvers? I'm finally having a sexy dream and I get Phil Silvers? Nuh-UH!"

And I wasn't even fortunate enough to have it end there. Nope. My inaugural sexy dream had to go on. I could hear Deetzie giggling with Paul Newman in the next room. I looked at Phil Silvers. "Nuh-UH!"

I don't have a photo of me right here from that time period. (I graduated from high school in 1972.) But I do have a photo of my dog, Rex.

I wrote about him; he was a fantastic dog. Would have done better dreaming about some adventure or another with Rex.

But no. Phil Silvers.

Hug your hounds, awake or asleep

Fun Monday # 7

If you came looking for the Rescue story, CLICK HERE.

Pensieve is hosting this week's Fun Monday. Our assignment:

• please share words that inspire and motivate you--brief or bloviatory, silly or serious, from great world leaders to last night's Comedy Central...from a Hallmark greeting card to your favorite book. Choose one, choose many; let the quotes stand on their own or tell where you first read or heard them and how they affected you. There's a lot of leeway with how this topic can be handled.

I love quotes. I am a quotaphile. I so love good writing. To capture something powerfully universal in a few finely crafted words is to get a glimpse of Heaven.

Without further ado!

[First the dog quotes. This is a dog blog.]

My own:

• In the eyes of a dog I see God.

I wrote a story about this. I will post it here someday.

I was fortunate - hugely so - to have been able to meet Roger Caras, and to get to know his lovely family a little. He has two of my favorite quotes

• Dogs are not our whole life, but they make our lives whole.

and

• If you don't own a dog, at least one, there is not necessarily anything wrong with you, but there may be something wrong with your life.

And Abraham Lincoln gave us:

• I care not much for a man's religion whose dog and cat are not the better for it.

And then there is Mark Twain. I adore Mark Twain.

• It is just like man's vanity and impertinence to call an animal dumb because it is dumb to his dull perceptions.

• Patriotism is supporting your country all the time, and your government when it deserves it.

• Patriot: the person who can holler the loudest without knowing what he is hollering about.

• Reader, suppose you were an idiot. And suppose you were a member of Congress. But I repeat myself.

• Noise proves nothing. Often a hen who has merely laid an egg cackles as if she laid an asteroid.

Don't you just love Mark Twain? I do. I just love him.


go visit the rest of the Fun Monday participants Pensieve 's blog for some more great quotes!

Fun Monday # I can't remember

This week's Fun Monday host is IT Guy

Here is what he came up with:

I need YOU (yes, the wonderful YOU!) to pick 5 memorable lines from 5
different movies (if you could tell us which character said it and to whom,
would be a bonus)...and tell us to WHOM (who in the people in your life) you
could have said those lines.

Problem is, my memory is kaput, and I don't watch many movies at home. I do go to our fantastic little independent theater here in Paducah, Maiden Alley Cinema regularly. Last night we saw The Kite Runner, which was oh such a powerful movie. I do not usually see troubling movies of this ilk, as I am way too sensitive and suggestible. That movie will haunt me for the rest of my life. I walked out of The Machinist last year, and years ago from The Exorcist. I left the house in 1990 something, when my husband and son were watching the video of Platoon, and the soldiers shot the little old Vietnamese couple. Still have nightmares from that one. Didn't leave soon enough.

But with the help of the Internet, here is my list:

1. My favorite is when Kathy Bates' character in Fried Green Tomatoes rams her car into the car of the rude teenagers who are trying to steal her parking spot. The say, "We're younger and faster" She replies, after bashing into the car, "I'm older and I have more insurance." I love that line. Go writer Fannie Flagg! To sum up the benefits of being a 50 + year old woman in seven words! Awesome. I won't have an opportunity to use this line. But I love it.


2. "In the name of God, do your duty." Atticus Finch's closing argument in To Kill A Mockingbird. Ahhhhh Gregory Peck! Ahhhhhhhh Harper Lee. Does it get any better? Nah. To the politicians in this country. All of them.


3. "Outta order? I'll show you outta order! " Al Pacino, as Lt. Col. Frank Slade in Scent Of A Woman. I'll use this some day.


4. "Ray, people will come, Ray. They'll come to Iowa for reasons they can't even fathom. They'll turn up your driveway, not knowing for sure why they're doing it. They'll arrive at your door as innocent as children, longing for the past. "Of course, we won't mind if you have a look around," you'll say. "It's only twenty dollars per person." They'll pass over the money without even thinking about it; for it is money they have and peace they lack." James Earl Jones as Terrence Mann in Field of Dreams. We get so hung up with buying this and buying that, having this and having that. But in this grand, wealthy country, it is money we have, and peace we lack.


5. "In his final words tonight, the Judge said that we can be "the terror of the world." I don’t think we want to be that. I think we would prefer to be the encouragement of the world: the proof that at last man is worthy to be free." Raymond Massey as Abraham Lincoln in Abe Lincoln in Illinois (1940), during a debate with opposing candidate Judge Stephen Douglas. To the current administration, and those that would have us impose our ways on other people by force.

Click HERE to see the list of other Fun Monday participants.

hug your movie watchin' hounds

Fun Monday # 4, I think.

[If you are looking for the update on Shelby it is the next post, just scroll down.}

From Sayre comes this week's Fun Monday Challenge:

• 
  Take your camera with you as you go about your business and take a picture of the things that make you laugh along the way. I was originally thinking about signs, since that's what usually does it for me, but I left it open to your interpretation

Hmmm. I work in a little room in my house. On my way to "work" I must settle all the other commuters.

Bill is in charge of Delia:

I pass the shelves with photos of my friends:

The front photo below is of Caruso and Gracious, who are no longer. How much do I treasure that picture? It was taken by my dear friend Laurie, and she will be here day after tomorrow for a wonderful visit! I am so excited to see her, and you will see lots of new photos!

I had posted a photoshow here of our typical walk, but the music played everytime you opened the blog and that is SO annoying. I deleted it.

To see the rest of the Fun Monday participants, go HERE.

hug your hounds

Whippet's Fun Monday on Tuesday

(For my Fun Monday, scroll down please.)

The whippets wanted to post their own Fun Monday video:

Fun Monday

Today's Fun Monday assignment is from the Crown Princess at Ooh A Shiny Pen.

She says:

Music plays a vital role in most of our lives. It is
everywhere. I want to hear the ONE song that is you. The song that whenever it
is heard, you smile. I am not looking for the soundtrack of your life, just that
one song. Your friends hear it and think of you. You can post the video, the
lyrics, the wav file. However you want to post it is great.

ARRGH! ONE???? I can't do ONE! I can do one musician, Paul Simon, though Ienjoy a ton of different artists.

All of the whippets that I bred are named after Paul Simon songs, (Bill co-bred Luciano and Delia, so they are named after his music - Pavarotti and Johnny Cash), and I think there are a lot of people who think of me when they hear the Mama Pajama song.

I smile when I hear any of Paul Simon's songs. And he has such a huge body of work.



That's it. I just can't do one. But here are three that are definitely in the running.



Hearts and Bones. Mama Pajama and Fat Charlie's litter sister's registered name is CH Warburton Hearts and Bones. She is Sam I Am's mother, and his real name is Warburton Heart of the Story.

I LOVE this song.

On the last leg of the journey
They started a long time ago
The arc of a love affair
Rainbows in the high desert air
Mountain passes slipping into stones
Hearts and bones

[Oh if I could write like that.]

And my friends would definitely think of me when they hear You Can Call Me Al. (That's Lindy Loo's brother Nearly's real name, by the way!) Watch Chevy Chase's feet - that's what mine do in all of Paul Simon's music. And watch Paul Simon giggle at the very end when Chevy Chase sticks the trumpet in his face.





and I love Proof:




Faith
Faith is an island in the setting sun
But proof, yes
Proof is the bottom line for everyone
Half moon hiding in the clouds, my darling
And the sky is flecked with signs of hope
Raise your weary wings against the rain, my baby
Wash your tangled curls with gambler's soap


Oh dear. There are so many more of his songs that touch me. Too many more.

Be sure to visit Ooh A Shiny Pen to see the rest of the Fun Monday blogs.

hug your song dogs

I believe in the future
I may live in my car
My radio tuned to
The voice of a star
Song dogs barking at the break of dawn
Lightning pushes the edge of a thunderstorm
And these old hopes and fears
Still at my side
(From Cool River, Rhythm of the Saints)

Fun Monday

Tiggerlane over at The Neophyte Blogger was in charge of hosting this week's Fun Monday.

She assigned:

Have you heard of The Bucket List? Well, that's what I want from you! Make a list of things you want to do before you die. It must be at least five items - and you can make it as long as you desire. Photos are optional. And let's hear about some of the wackiest, most bizarre to-do's on your Bucket List!

So. Here is my Bucket List.

#1. I will finish this stinkin' blankity-blank NOVEL. It might be with my last gasping rasp of a breath, but I will finish this novel. And then I will be on Oprah, and it will be #1 on the NYT Best Seller List, and Disney will buy the movie rights and I will owe it all to my supportive friends. And Bill of course. Unless finishing it kills me and I'm dead. Then Bill and the kids and the grandkids can live well.

#2. I will invent a Super Duper Pooper Scooper. It will work on batteries with a vacuum action and will hermetically seal each poopus in biodegradable disposable capsules. Or, better yet, it would zap energy waves into the poop, turning it into an odorless, inert powder, which is good for plants and helps cure warts.

#3. I will educate the public (see #1) about puppy mills and internet and pet store puppy sales and there will be legislation outlawing the above that even dog show people will support, though it might cut into their personal freedom a little. (Who really needs to register twenty litters of puppies a year, and if they feel they must, how are they different from a puppy mill anyway? That's what I say.) Hey! It's MY bucket list!

#4. I would buy a small villa in Italy for Bill. He would be so thrilled! Of course we would also have to have a time share jet or somethings, so that the dogs could fly over with us for the summers. I would raise endangered domestic species of farm animals there, like

these Blanco Orejinegro cattle (from http://www.fao.org/AG/magazine/0609sp1.htm). That is big on my bucket list.

#5. I would find a magical way to let my Bill know how he has made my life better. Or how he has made me better. Or how much I appreciate him. Or, well, you know.

That's my bucket list. If you go to The Neophyte Blogger you can find the other participants.

Fun Monday and more

I signed up to participate in Fun Monday, though I'm not at all sure how it started, or even how it works. I do know that there is about one hour and thirty-six minutes left of this Monday (at least in America, sorry England and Europe and parts easterner to be tardy) so I'd better get busy posting. I don't want to blow my very first Fun Monday assignment!





So the assignment was given by The Lurchers of London, although I gather the assignment duties shift, but I don't know how, and here it is:

• For today's Fun Monday, continuing in the spirit of "being interested in people", I would like to know, or see, what's on, in or under your bedside table! So open those draws and bare your soul to us! Is there anything special there that has a story or a memory that you can tell us about? Books that you keep there to delve into from time to time? Trinkets that you don't know where else to put? Let's see!

OK, here goes.





This is my bedside table:
Several months ago, Fat Charlie decided that he did not want to sleep in his crate in our bedroom. The crate was where it had been in the bank of eight crates on the opposite side of the room. He could see me, and he had been happily sleeping there for four years. Having him sleep on the bed with us didn't work out, because our dear Very Old Dog already does. And he is rather frail and there is only so much room.
I moved my bedside table out of the way and put Fat Charlie's crate where it had been, and BINGO! Happy dog.

On the top, on the back left hand corner are two water glasses. One for me (I drink a lot of water, not because I'm being healthy, I just like it) and the wider one is for Very Old Dog. He gets thirsty at night, and he should not jump off the bed by himself. When I hear him rustling, I grab his water and give him a slurp, and he plunks back down to sleep.
Then there's the Ikea lamp, which I inadvertently cut off when I took the photo. There is a Casual Living catalog which I carried up at least a month ago but I haven't thumbed through it yet.
Underneath the catalog are two rough drafts of commentaries I've written for our local NPR station. (National Public Radio) Now, mind you, I finished those commentaries and recorded them in December, and one has already been played, but there lie the rough drafts.

Then you see the medicine for Fat Charlie's owie toe, not put back in its box, of course, and the Clock From Hell. That clock is the meanest, most ornery, cussed piece of electronic devilry ever invented. It says Made In China but I think it was made by some furiously frustrated leftover Evil Spirit which had no other outlet for its Creative Calamity, owing to the fact that no one believed in it any more and that took away all the fun.
So It made this clock, and it visited it upon ... me. You cannot make this clock behave. If you set the alarm for 4 AM it will go off a 2 PM. If you turn the alarm off altogether, the radio comes on at midnight, full blast, on a station to which you have never, ever listened. And the next night the alarm goes boop, boop, BOOP BOOWOOP, BOOWOOP at midnight, and 1 AM, and 3:30 AM and five.

I'm telling you the thing is Evil, and it was made by something Very Bad. I've unplugged it.

You can just get a glimpse of a lovely quilted piece that Bill's daughter Beth made. It is sort of trying to disguise the fact that I have a crate as a bedside table. It's a pretty, if ineffective, disguise. And Mama Pajama's old collar lies next to my reading glasses. It's not good for the neck to try to use trifocals in bed.



And this is what is inside my bedside table, at least from the time Bill comes to bed, until we get up in the morning. (Until Bill comes to bed, the contents of my bedside table warm Bill's side of the bed for him. )






If he looks a bit concerned, or perhaps disconcerted is a better word, it's because I popped him into his crate at 11 AM this morning. An unprecedented event.
They get crated in their downstairs crates at odd times of day quite frequently, if I have an errand to run or such. But I put Fat Charlie to bed before lunch and then snapped photos.
I can barely imagine what he was thinking.

So, that's my first Fun Monday!
Thanks for letting me join in the Fun, even if I almost missed it.

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We went to Sam I Am's second ever Agility Trials this weekend. I had planned to tell about it here, but I'm falling asleep, so it shall have to wait.

He was a super wonderful superbly clever fantastic boy, though!

hug your hounds

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