Puppy Love

My dog is cheating on me.  He begs to go out then only stands in the drive and looks longingly at the neighbor’s house.  I do believe, if I allowed it, he’d  howl a serenade under the lady’s window.  A few times, she’s stopped to visit and pet him.  You’d think think she’d invited him into her life.  Puffing out his chest,  he peed impressively, then kicked up a huge cloud of dust. to show what a mighty fellow he is.  In all honesty, his bladder capacity is astounding since he’s a mastiff, but I don’t think it makes her want him more., nor does his habit of making a beeline to sniff her nether portions.

Worse yet, if he gets more than twenty feet ahead of me, he goes stone deaf.  Buzzy, my other dog, suffers the same malady.  Though we have a two-acre yard with plenty of poop room, they are both desperate to leave surprises for the neighbors.  Early on, I made sure they knew the perimeter of our yard.  Since then, they’ve both try not to go inside its boundaries.  If they got their heart’s desire, we’d be surrounded by a poop fence on all four sides ten feet just outside our property lines.  Buzzy’s deposits are offensive enough, but Croc’s leavings are mountainous.and would soon obscure the view if left to lie.  We’d be run out of the neighborhood if they got their wish.

Izzy, the Runaway

We’ve had our little dog, Izzy, less than a year. Our former dog, Buzzy had died not long before. Our big dog, Croc, was lost without his friend. My niece, a rural mail carrier, called us about Izzy. It seems a lady on her route had several dogs. Izzy strayed up to her house, begging to be let in. She was kind enough to rescue him but busied herself hunting him a new home.

He is adorable but almost instantly we discovered his little secret. He’s a runner! That’s likely how he got to his foster home to start with. He’d not been with us two hours. He took the opportunity to scoot out the door and run, just a streak of white.

I followed calling him but he was gone. I got in my truck to look for him but he was nowhere to be seen. I was sick with dread fearing I’d never see him again. Eventually, I saw him resting on a doorstep, exhausted. I scooped him up and brought him home. He managed to run a couple of more times, despite our vigilance. I suspect he’d run today, given the chance.

I apologize for three lower images. I erroneously inserted them and can’t get them out.

Happy Homecoming

Our big guy, Croc, was so glad to see us after our three day trip, He’s always unhappy to see the suitcases come out but feels better after learning, Kylie, his dog sitter will be staying with him and his brother, Izzy.

Croc came to live with us about six years ago. His original owner was a forty-year-old man in South Carolina who died suddenly. Grandma, an eighty-year-old lady, was overwhelmed by his rowdiness. Sadly, she had to return him to the shelter. Since it was winter, Croc was sent to New Jersey, which had a dearth of adoptable dogs in winter. A relative’s family gave him his next home. Their tiny NJ yard was inadequate. Croc caused a ruckus, disturbing the peace of the neighborhood.

We’d learned to love him, so brought him home with us. We were concerned about how he’d get along with our old American Eskimo dog but they became friends at first sight. Croc just adores children. When we are lucky enough to have a young visitor, he tries to claim them for himself.

Camping Lessons: Spare Glasses Saved Me from Disaster

   image Dirty Dog

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We just got back from camping on the Gulf Coast.  We had fun and I learned a couple of things. First of all, if you think you might fall and bust your fanny, carry your extra glasses.  I was standing behind the trailer trying to wave Bud in as he backed the trailer up and Buzzy wrapped me in his leash, plopping me flat on my keester. I fell flat, banging right on my glasses.   I hadn’t gotten in Bud’s line of vision yet, so he thought I’d wandered off, as I am prone to do.  He continued backing up, but fortunately I was able to get out of the way before he flattened me.

Although the fall did kill my glasses, I escaped.  I was worried whether I would have a black eye, but luckily I didn’t.  If I had, I would have to have blacked both Bud’s eyes or I would have been ashamed to be seen when we met friends later.  I was able to get the frames replaced, using the same lenses.  What a relief.  I had dreaded trying to get by with just reading glasses till I could get new ones made.  I will never go off without a spare again.

Buzzy had a fine time camping as always.  We patrolled the camp several times a day.  He got to meet new dogs, see an alligator, smell the Gulf, roll in some different flavors of mud, walk on the beach, and sleep in the camper.  His favorite part of camping is sitting on the bench seat between us at meals.  He doesn’t get a place at the table at home.

Blackie and the Great Diaper Monster

Grandma had a stroke when she was fifty-eight.  The doctor came out to see her and said she’d never walk again.  Ignoring him, she scooted around in an old desk chair for about three months because she wasn’t about to waste money on a wheelchair she’d never use again.  After that, she put up with a cane for a few days till she was sick of it, then it was business as usual.  Ever afterwards, she was a little weak on the right side and her gait was off a little, but she didn’t let it hold her back.  She just carried her gigantic old-lady black purse on the left side to balance herself.  She crawled in every time the car started, and made every trip anyone else did, be it the hardware store, grocery store, or vacation.  Her stroke just made it a little easier for us to keep up with her. She lived far enough away that she always stayed a couple of weeks when she visited.  Upon her arrival, she insisted on taking over the family laundry, washing, hanging out on the line, and folding.  We always had mountains of laundry with five kids, including two babies in diapers, so Mother was glad to have the help.   Always afraid the neighbors would talk about her for letting Grandma toddle back and forth with the laundry, she always sent one of us to help.  I always volunteered, since Grandma was known to hand out nickels when she was pleased.  I endeavored to make sure the other kids didn’t stumble into this gold mine. The whole time I was growing up, we had a sequence of gentle black dogs, usually named Blackie

I have no idea how many we may have had, but we always had one.  Numerous though they had to have been over the eighteen years I lived at home, they all merged into one in my memory.  One hot summer afternoon, as Grandma tottered back from the clothesline to the back door, the poor dog must have awakened from his nap in the shade only to see a short-legged, top-heavy voluminous mound of diaper-carrying scariest monster ever advancing toward him, lurching from side to side. Terrified, he leapt up barking and lunged at the scary monster, pushing her over backwards, the diapers landing atop her.  Mother had seen the whole thing and rushed out to rescue Grandma from the jaws of the slavering beast.  As soon as the dog heard Mother coming for him, he took off.  We were all sure Grandma was dead.  Mother tore at the pile of diapers only to find Grandma laughing so hard she couldn’t get up.  She had to get her laughing fit over before we could pull her to her feet.  She was totally unhurt, except for the indignity of wet pants.  I can’t speak to the poor dog’s shocked condition.

A Very Big Dog Named Floyd Had To Be Rescued On A Hike And The Photos Are Amazing

He handled the situation like a champ, injured paws and all.

Look, hiking a few miles up a mountain is hard. If you’re a 190-pound dog named Floyd, who may not be in the best shape of his life, it’s a bit too much

The 3-year-old mastiff was hiking with his human up the Grandeur Peak trail in Salt Lake County, Utah, on Sunday and got so worn out he couldn’t make it back to the car.

About five concerned hikers passed by the pup and his owner, who were stopped on the trail for hours, and called 911 once they got back to cell reception. Salt Lake County Search and Rescue were dispatched to rescue Floyd and quickly sprang to action to make sure the doggo got off the mountain before it got too dark and too cold, Todd Taylor, the team’s squad leader, told BuzzFeed News.

“They started hiking around noon and it’s usually a three-hour hike,” Taylor said. “But they were sitting up there for a few hours. He would walk a few feet and then sit down and his paws were hurt and cut up.”

The nonprofit, all-volunteer crew does about 50 rescues a year, Taylor, 49, said. They range from injured runners, dehydrated hikers, swift-water incidents, and jumping out of helicopters to get to stranded rock climbers.

Most of the volunteers have been rescuing people for 10 to 15 years. Saving dogs, though, is much rarer and required some strategizing.

This was an interesting rescue because of the size of Floyd,” Taylor said. “We knew we had a big dog, a 190-pounder, and we treated it like a normal rescue for a person.”

Ten rescuers on two teams arrived armed with helmets, ropes, radios, and a litter — a piece of equipment used to carry people — to rescue Floyd. However, the wheel broke about a mile into the rescue, Taylor said, so the crew had to carry the massive mastiff the rest of the way down.

But Floyd handled the entire situation like a champ and was the best of boys.

Story from Buzzfeed

Puppy Love

I think my big dog is breaking one of the commandments.  Do commandments apply to dogs?  He covets his neighbor’s wife.  When we are out walking and meet Ruth, he knocks himself out to get her attention.  When she brags on him in her special, doggy voice, his tail goes into overdrive.  I have to dance around out stay out of its way to  avoid bruises.  He pulls hard on his leash trying to get to her, I guess he’s thinking she’s the kind of girl who goes for bad boys. He does super deep, open-mouth breathing blowing hot air out of his gigantic mouth. It sounds for all the world like the deep breathing on the old-fashioned obscene phone calls that cellular phones ruined forever for perverts.  All the while, he’s dancing a four-legged jitterbug, the only time he moves that fast. At one hundred thirty- five pounds, he does serious damage connecting with your foot.  When all else fails, he bows up and deposits a giant poop before her before kicking up a dust cloud. Turning subtly, he peeks to see whether Ruth is impressed.  Sadly, she isn’t, striding off leaving clean up for me!  It wasn’t even my love offering! In truth, he’s like a lot of males past their prime. In truth, he is like a lot of males past their prime, flirting right along despite being overweight and  balding.

Annie’s Gift

Upon noticing the festive music, floral embellishments in the yard and the parade of guests, we surmised there was a wedding in the works across the street. We were vaguely friendly with the Becketts, but often went weeks without having a real conversation, so we weren’t surprised not to have heard of their plans, nor would we have expected an invitation. I alerted the kids to steer clear of the revelry making a point to walk our dalmatian, Annie, in the opposite direction, so as not to interfere with the Beckett’s plans. Annie caught a whiff of the tantalizing aromas wafting from the Beckett’s back patio and realized how desperately she needed to check the situation out.  She enjoyed a close relationship with their dog, Scotty, and realized she’d being meaning to check on him.  Like us, the Becketts had children who were likely to leave doors open, enhancing their dog’s social life.  Annie and Scotty had enjoyed many adventures together.  Consequently, the dogs felt very comfortable “dropping in” whenever the opportunity arose.  We knew Scotty far better than we did his owners. Annie had no doubt her invitation to the Beckett’s shindig had gotten lost in the mail.  She pulled on her leash, anxiously to join the fun.

I dragged her home.  With nose pressed to the living room windows and her eyes glued to the front door, she barked, whined, and cried her heartbreak at being kept from the party.  She would have scratched through the front door if allowed.  With so many guests, Scotty ran wild and free, making a trip or two through our yard, looking for Annie., keeping her desperation at a peak.

Finally, one of the kids left the door open.  Annie was out like a shot, making a beeline for the party.  She got there just in time to bound joyously around family and friends queued up to shower the bride and groom with congratulations as they emerged from their nuptials, the bride resplendent in her lace, the groom tall and handsome.  It was a lovely sight.  Annie was so overcome, she squatted in their path and presented her gift, a huge poop.  She’d been shut in too long to be denied.

Dog’s Life

Our brave dog, Croc, has a hard life.  In this photo, he is anxiously awaiting  the mail carrier.  So far, he has a one hundred percent success rate in chasing him off. Please note the crocheted afghan he rests under.  Yes, I made it just for him.  Mornings are the best for him.  Protecting the house from the postal service is a great sacrifice since afterwards he has to sleep on top of his blanket unless someone happens by to cover him.

 

BEFORE

AFTER

 

The mail carrier has once again been vanquished, but as you can see, Though he has blankets, poor Croc is uncovered.  He has, however, acquired the baby’s favorite doll to comfort him.  He covets her snugglies, and given the opportunity, snitches them.  This fearsome beast is all that stands between us and the USPS.  Of course, he is not allowed on sofa.