Wednesday, November 26, 2014

Wordless Wednesday: Turkey Sit


A slightly belated birthday to the Canine Companions for Independence Hero Litter.

Holly and her littermates should have received a hearty Happy Eight Month Birthday greeting a few days ago on November 18. But the day came and went without a peep from us here.

Kind of like the movie Sixteen Candles, but without all that teenage awkwardness.

Because there's nothing awkward about Miss Holly now. Just look at her in surrounded by her aura of grace and poise.

Sure, mostly nothing awkward. Do take notice of those back legs of hers, willya.

Oh my.

What brought this posture about? The chilly earth? Emulating a roast turkey in advance of the upcoming holiday? The desire to comply with the Sit command real good now?

Maybe simply a reminder that, at eight months old, Miss Holly is still a puppy.

Just in a bigger body.


Wednesday, November 19, 2014

Wordless Wednesday: Frosted blonde

Frosted blonde
Never mind the annual immersion into the Christmas holiday season, we haven’t even yet attended the November Family Dinner & Floor Show that some of you refer to as Thanksgiving. There must be someone we can talk to about this, right? A sound snowstorm in early November fell upon our little corner of Ohio leaving us with a sense of dread. You know the one … how you wished you’d taken the time last weekend to pick up all the recycled dog food in the backyard.

Now it’s a game of chance out there.

And the odds are against you and the shoes you walked in on.

Our Miss Holly was thrilled with this autumnal plot twist, she was. A natural California blonde, and just a young thing at that, this was her first experience with a frozen and frosty backyard.

In our time as volunteer puppy raisers for Canine Companions for Independence, that is our fifth yellow fluffer that we’ve introduced to the magical stuff that is Ohio snow. I have to admit, each one is much like the last.

Joy and discovery and running and sniffing and the obligatory my-nose-is-a-snowplow.

I’ll never get tired of watching this.


holly's first snow
Those are autumn leaves in the snow,
not poo landmines.
I think.
snowplow
Va...roooom ... ba!


Saturday, November 15, 2014

Happy Gotcha Day, you jerk

Happy Gotcha Day


You're gonna just love this cat, I tell The Husband.

Oh?, he says.

Huh. What is this? Do I detect a wary tone of skepticism in that Oh? He doesn't trust my judgment in the assessment of feline goodness, perhaps. Or I could just be paranoid. There's always that.

No, really, I insist. I've never seen a cat with a personality like this before. He's so ... tough. Or something.

I struggle to put a label on this cat. But I give it a try. 

Well, he's kinda like the honey badger of the cat world, I say. He just doesn't give a .... you know.

So if I'm understanding this correctly, says The Husband. You're just letting me know that you're bringing a very short sociopath into our home. With built in weaponry.

Bah. You're gonna love him, I repeat.

This was three years ago, November of 2011, that we welcomed the Benevolent Ruler of Sword House into our family.

And sure, Bodine can be a jerk sometimes. But in his defense, he needs to have this cast iron temperament to survive mind and body among the canine-related activities here.

Sharing space with two adult dogs, and a quasi-annual rotation of Canine Companions for Independence puppies, a little fella needs to have an attitude bigger than himself.

And he does.

In spades.

So after I pick up the paperwork Bodine just knocked off the desk, we'll celebrate his third Gotcha Day with our family.

We love you, Bodine, you little jerk.

Tuesday, November 4, 2014

Beauty and Brains and Love





How old is your puppy? asked the Bob Evans server. She stoops down to look under the table at our pup in training.

Puppy Euka is alert amid the activity of this noisy - and aromatic -  environment, but she's content to hold her Down like the good girl she is. Beauty and brains, this one.

She's almost seven months, I said.

Wow, you're lucky, said the server. You got a good one then. My boyfriend's little brother has a service dog. It's three years old and can't stay still. He'd never be able to get it to lie under a restaurant table like that.

Lucky?

It?

Huh, is that so? I say. Where did he get his service dog from? 

Oh, well, says our server. And she names a local assistance dog organization that's not CCI, but another one we know about.

Gotcha, I say. You know, if the dog needs more training, I'm sure the organization will provide it.

I actually don't know this is true. I hope it is.

My boyfriend's little brother has autism, so the dog's for that, she said. They don't need the dog so much when they go out. 

The Husband lowers his menu to catch my eye. I know that look. It says, go easy on the chick. The only thing between me and my lunch right now is your impending lecture.

Friday, October 31, 2014

Ghosts like toast


I would have thought the dogs would alert
To another presence in which to flirt
Nothing but silence as I left the room
No portent of dismay, nor omen of doom
All was right with my breakfast upon the desk
A simple warm up of the cuppa was my quick task
So upon return, it surprised me most
To make the discovery that ghosts like toast
                                                          -d.m.black-sword

I walk into the dining room to set my fresh cup o'joe on the table. Another glorious work-from-home day, of which I am one lucky chick to have, and I'm setting the scene for a productive morning.  

A cup of my very own special-brewed version of Cowboy Coffee, a slice of peanut butter toast and a peaceful aura emanating from the still sleeping dogs. Gonna be a good day, Scooter.

Well, I pass by two sleeping dogs. Jager is at the table and does a quick spin around when I return. He is obviously going through great effort to appear casual. If dogs could whistle, he'd be puckered up.

Um, I say. What's going on?

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