Constant companion...

My dog sits in the back seat. He has one of those seat belt attachments that secures him there so he isn't supposed to jump into the front. And he doesn't. But he does lean forward, put one paw on my shoulder and look out the windshield as if he is navigating the entire trip.

My dog is a character.

And I love him.

Lil Fat Boy...

 

How is it that a small furry face and a fat round body with bad breath and seriously bad farts could make me so happy?

 

 

Leonard is a chunky little dynamo with short spurts of energy that always end with long twitchy naps complete with snoring. He's the doofiest of doofs, often running into doors and tables with his too big head, and falling over himself when his front half stops before his back half gets the message that he's actually stopped moving. He loves his kibble, chewing his elk antler, his Kong toy and his fuzzy squeaky toy. He also loves playing with Arnie, one of my cats. He's learned to give Mama Belle, the other cat and Queen of Our Home, a wide berth and much respect and leaves her the hell alone lest she hiss loudly at him and pound his smooshy face into oblivion. Sometimes he will just watch her from a distance in awe.

 

 

I love animals. I love my cats so much. And it's been a long while since I've had a dog in my life. I'd forgotten how great dogs are. I mean I knew how much dogs bring to one's life - how much sheer joy and unbridled happiness they can bring. But over time, when you haven't had a dog in your life, one of your own to come home to, to play with, to care for, to worry about, to care for you, you forget that true feeling of peace and endless, deep, abiding, unconditional love dogs give.

 

 

This lil Fat Boy is here to stay. And I couldn't be happier. 

That feeling you get when you really, really, really want something....

I remember when I was a little girl going into a store called Wilson's at Christmas with my Dad. They had this huge display of toys and it was AMAZING!! Every possible toy a kid could want. Every toy that was being advertised on TV. It was all there. But the one toy that caught my eye was the most beautiful walking doll. She had long straight brunette hair and wore a blue dress with flowers on it. She was about three feet tall and if you held her hand she would actually walk next to you. I wanted that doll more than I had ever wanted anything in my life. I dragged my Dad over to her to show him and made sure he knew how much it would mean to me to get that doll. But we weren't there to buy toys that day so, sadly, I went home without her. Still, I thought of her every day and wished secretly that Santa would somehow know how much I wanted her. Imagine my surprise when Christmas morning came and there she was under our tree!

Now, I am having much the same feelings about something else. A dog. I want a dog so badly it's become almost an obsession. I spend at least an hour each night looking at adoptable dogs on line and wishing and hoping that one day soon I will be able to have one. The thing is, right now, I live in an apartment that doesn't allow dogs. I'm not real picky about the kind of dog I get either. I know I will adopt one from a rescue or a shelter, never buy one from a breeder or pet store. I like them big or small, hairy or smooth. Doesn't really matter to me! Dogs have such great personalities that I'm sure whatever it looks like, it will be great!

I just really, really want a dog. I want it soon! I wish someone would surprise me with a dog!

For the love of a good dog...

Growing up I always had a dog. When I was very little, our family dog was a terrier mash up called Do-Do. He was thusly named because the first day we got him, as a puppy, my Mom gave him a bowl of milk and he started to back up all over the kitchen until he stumbled backwards into the bowl and pooped right in the milk. My Mom said, "What a do-do!" and the name stuck. Do-Do was my buddy. We grew up together. He was also an escape artist. Given an inch of open door, he would take off like a bat out of hell and be gone all day. He always returned but not before he found something completely vile to roll around in. His pride in his own stink was awesome. As was the defeat of the inevitable bath that was awaiting him. Occasionally, Do-Do would get caught by the Animal Control officer. Actually, more than occasionally. He would get caught so much the officer knew where he lived and started to just bring him home rather than take him to the Humane Society. My Dad appreciated not having to pay the fine for having a loose dog. Do-Do lived a long time. Long enough to move into our new house in 1970 and learned the lay out of a whole new neighborhood. Though he was far from the beloved, horrid smells of rotting alewives at Lake Michigan he found a whole new set of disgusting smells to roll around in at Lincoln Park. I swear that dog had more baths in his lifetime! He lived to an old ripe age and was loved every minute of it. When he was gone, my Mom avowed to never have another dog again. And we didn't until I was in college.

I got a call from my sister. She brought home a dog thinking her husband would be thrilled. He wasn't and now she had to get rid of it. I was house sitting for another sister so she brought it over to me for the time being. The time being meant long enough for me to fall in love with this ugly looking mutt she brought in. His named was Dudley. I called my Mom to beg her to let me keep him. She was dead set against it but my dear Dad intervened and talked her into it so Dudley came home to stay. He also became one of the most important characters in my life. I took him everywhere. He slept in my bed, ate off my plate, sat on my lap and just stayed at my side. He was another terrier mix, like Do-Do but he was no escape artist. If he got out alone he took his own sweet time stopping to smell the roses. He could be gone an hour before we'd notice and when we'd look outside he wouldn't even had made it to the gate. He loved taking it all in. He was so sweet that way. Dudley was often the only one I could tell my deepest secrets too. When my Dad passed away, Dudley's fur bore the brunt of my tears. Sometimes he would just lie next to me and gently place a paw on my cheek as if to tell me it was all going to be alright. My Mom professed her hatred for this dog but every morning she'd be in the kitchen making Dudley a piece of toast with butter and cheese and she'd always insist that I mix the extra gravy or green beans into his food. When I moved to Chicago, Dudley stayed behind. I wasn't allowed to have a dog where I lived. Dudley and mom were together at home for a long time. Finally, Dudley got old and infirmed and my sister had him put down. I still have his collar and tags and I'll always keep them.

Now, I have cats. I love them just as much as I have loved any of my pets but I have to admit there are marked differences. I want a dog and I wish I could get one but once again I am in a place where the landlord won't allow it. One day though, I know I will have another dog. I just can't see life without it. And, frankly, I don't understand people who don't like dogs! How can you not like a dog?

Snow Day!

Today was one of those deeply goodiddley days! I was up last night watching the weather channel. That's something we do regularly here in Wisconsin just so's we know what to expect the next morning. Well, HELLO!! What do you think? As predicted Wisconsin is under an ice storm warning. I made up my mind last night before I went to bed to call in and take one of my hard earned paid sick days just because. I declared this an official personal snow day! I used to love snow days when I was a kid. Waking up in the morning, getting ready for school only to discover that school was closed and all that was left to do was get outside and play, play, play!

I tried to sleep in but Arnie the alarm cat wouldn't let me. So I got up, made some great pumpkin spice coffee my sister gave me and planned the day. I didn't go play, sadly. I used the time to finished up some of the cleaning projects I had started. Yes, those blasted clean spots were making me feel too guilty. Any movement by me meant that Arnie just had to be up and under foot. Something that was amazingly and, quite humorously, cured when I began to vacuum. That sent him packing. He's still staring at me right now from under the table. Oh, the power I feel!

I bundled up later and went outside to move my car. Alternate side parking - the bane of every Cheesehead's existence. Well, that and Minnesota Viking fans. Actually, it was quite nice outside despite the icy drizzle. My sister brought Joe, her bumbling Chocolate lab, outside. I pelted him with snow balls which he loved! I swear if he could, he would dig himself into a snow bank and just stay there. I've never seen a dog who loves the snow so much.

I decided this was the perfect day to reread some of my old favorites. Restarted "To Kill A Mockingbird". I read this one at least once each year. I'm not sure why I love this book so much but I do. I think it is the idea that there may be a little Atticus in all of us, if we look hard enough. It's like comfort food to me. Speaking of which, I am roasting a chicken and the smell is amazing. I plan to eat it later with some homemade mashed potatoes and green beans. I think a Bloody Mary is in order as well!

This was a perfect snow day. I may even start wrapping those Christmas gifts!