Whine, wine, wine.....

Okay, I have been shamed by some of my followers who said they are jonesing for a post. So here we go. It's the day before Christmas Eve and  the Hanukkah season(did I spell that right?) is underway. I'm going to try to catch you up on whats been going down here on the mountain. One day it was Fall and with absolutely no warning the next day it was winter! None of this fading in crap, just boom, Winter.

So I am sitting here with my "inexpensive" as opposed to "cheap" wine. I think there is about  $0.50 cent difference. If it costs under $3.00 it's cheap. If it costs over $3.00 it is "inexpensive". I'm enjoying this stab you in the gut Pinot Grigio drinking it from a mason jar. Let me tell you, in mountain society a jelly jar is for everyday but a mason jar is upscale and only used for company. I figured this is a festive season so I'm breaking out the mason jars. Besides, after 2 glasses of this, you don't care what your drinking out of, the dog's water bowl would do just fine, except that I would have to fight off the dogs.

So I imagine that you all are frazzled now with the holiday season, relatives and decorations. We don't decorate for Christmas, because some of the Doos, no names mentioned, view ornaments and decorations as hanging toys and things to be knocked down and eaten. So instead, I make them wear antlers and Santa and elf hats to amuse me. I'm amused, not them. I really need to get a camera so I can share these moments of humiliation.

For those of you Yorkie fan you will be glad to hear that they are all back in sweaters, some pastel, none of them "manly' Most of them embarrassing. They still run up and down the porch barking like crazy. Sunny  now considers them a dangerous threat. Okay, here is the story. One day when it was still fall. Sunny was out roaming and as he is want to do, he likes to go visit my neighbors on the porch and share any food they might be eating. So here he is on the porch and sharing a sandwich with David, one of the neighbors, and someone left their storm door unlatched and out piled two of the Yorkies and promply attached themselves to each of Sunny's ears. You never saw a dog exit a porch so fast. Luckily I was outside to observe it the look on his face was priceless. A dogs version of  WTF! He came running home and now checks out the location of said Yorkies before he crosses the creek. I don't blame him Yorkie earrings are definitely not in fashion.

With pigs gone it seemed kind of dull here, but the Lord provides. We have a new neighbor who is a complete asshole. He is a Yankee transplant from a suburb or city. He has provided us with a lot of entertainment and I will be writing about him in the coming blogs.

Well, the pot of pintos I have been cooking are ready, Yum, and I need a refill of wine. So bless you all and I will be posting soon. I miss ya'll too. So have a great Christmas don't get too drunk and fall into the tree. Don't feed your dogs turkey it gives them gas you wouldn't believe.

Taliban Yorkies and Sunfire the TPD

Wow, I didn't realize that it has been so long since I posted. But we will definitely make up for it in this post. For all you Yorkie fans you will get a double dose this post. But first, Sunfire has earned his TPD (toilet paper dog). I was sitting here vegging as usual surfing sites when I happen to look up and see that my house has been redecorated reminiscent of a Halloween TPing. It was amazing, it went from one of the bathrooms to the living room, into and out of my bedroom and ended in the dining room. For those of you who are unfamiliar with my house layout, it is like a great room with a bedroom off of it. The great room consists of a kitchen, dining area, office area and living room. There are 2 bathrooms, one off the great room and the other in my bedroom Of course there was no dog in site. When I started using expletives and cuss words they all appeared. Looking very innocent I might add. As a side note, that is some strong toilet paper, I can't figure out how if it's so strong how come I always stick my finger through multiple layers. Okay, back to the "innocent" dogs. They are all looking at each other like "what is she mad about, hey, I like the new decor, very dog friendly". I say, "who did this" I'd drop over if one of them actually said, " well, I guess I'll confess, it was me". In true dog fashion they just looked at me with their heads cocked. I said, "well I guess the bad dog has visited once again". I assume they agreed because they all left. Okay, a day later same thing only this time it just went from the bathroom to the dining room. Again, no dog in sight. I was in the other bathroom at that time. I figured it was useless to ask who did it, so I just started rewinding. I was making a point of making sure the bathroom doors were closed and watching for any suspicious activity. My next encounter with the undercover toilet paper runner was again, I looked up and saw a trail of paper towels this time. Aha! a clue at last. The paper towels sit at the back of the counter and Mira, Siren and Lotto are all to short to reach them. Sunny was exonerated because he had been in the bedroom with the door closed sleeping. That left Riggins and Sunfire. I looked at both of them and put  small cookies on the back of the counter. Riggins was jumping trying to get them and Sunfire just easily snarfed both of them up. Okay, I had a culprit, not to mention that he had a small fluff of paper on one of his whiskers. I told him that I was watching him, you know the signal, your first two fingers pointing to your eyes and them at other person. Sunfire isn't very good at taking hints, but to date he hasn't gotten any more TP or paper towels. Of course I have moved the paper towels to the top of the refrigerator. I expect it is only a matter of time before he can get on top of the refrigerator. His father, Sunny is an expert refrigerator top cruiser, which is why I don't store the bread up there anymore.

Alright Yorkie fans, here we go. First, I think I told you that there was another Yorkie who joined the group. His name is Scooter. Scooter is going to rescue. No crying! He will be going with a great rescuer that I personally know. He already has a new home where he will be an only dog and live with a lady who carries her dogs around in purses. We know the kind, they have a big purse and if you get within 15 feet of it it starts growling and snapping. These people always give you a look at you as if you tried to strangle their pocket pup. I've thought about it but never have actually done it. She recently lost her other Yorkie. It went to that Yorkie heaven in the sky. Yorkies and toy dogs don't go to the Rainbow Bridge because the big dogs would eat them. I guess if you are a very bad little dog (or cat) you go to the bridge and are given a 30 second start.

There is an amendment to the Scooter Story. Scooter will not be going to Rescue, He will be going back to his mama. He will still be an only dog and one of those Foo-Foo dog that gets carried in a purse. He will still be an only dog so there is no competition for peeing on walls and furniture for him. BUT, Scooter was neutered,. Hey, that rhymes!. Scooter thought they said tutored so he went along happily. Now he's walking a little funny with his back legs. So RIP Scooters balls and here is to a good life with your mama the other Yorkies are glad to see you go.

Welcome to the wonderful world of fogeydom

This is it, I've finally reached the high point of life. This is referred to as becoming an old fart, fogey old goat or as I heard someone describe members of my generation as the "locust generation". Anyway, I've officially arrived. Up to this point I considered myself a senior and I thought that was it. WRONG! So you ask, what's the difference, unless you are there too. Big difference and when you get there you know it. The transition point for me was when I realized that I had turkey neck arms, turkey neck neck and all on the same day I bought a Grabber. That was the final turning point. It's a great little tool. They advertise them on TV. It's about 3' long with a pistol grip thing and suction cups on the other end. You press the trigger and the suction cup close in on anything and you can lock them down to move around things. I bought it because I had a burnt out light bulb and after all these years I'm going to heed my doctors advice and stay off of ladders and step stools. This is after spraining, straining, bruising, cracking and breaking several parts of my body while falling off of various step ladders.

Okay, back to the Grabber. I brought it home and was amazed that it actually worked. I changed the light bulb. As a point of rebellion I used a regular bulb, not one of the Obama bulbs. I'd like to screw him into a socket, but that's a different subject. Of course now that I had used it, I decided to check it out and play with it. I opened the refrigerator, pulled stuff out, put it back, went around the house picking things up and putting them down. I decided to expand my talents and used it to pick up dog cookies and feed the Doos. They were a little skeptical at first but seeing as it contained food they basically said "to hell with it" and ate the cookies.
 That's when the devil in me came out and I grabbed Mira by the ass. She couldn't figure out what was grabbing her but she put a lot of distance between her and the evil Grabber. I made a game out of goosing them with it. I thought it was funny as hell but they didn't agree. Lotto being the other old fart in the house looked at the Grabber and then looked at me and growled. That was enough, I know she is serious. I've seen her kick Sunny's ass and I have no doubt she would place that grabber where the sun doesn't shine. I'm thinking of getting a second one to pick up dog shit.

I've realized that being and official old coot comes with some perks. For example I can do granny farts, long and loud ones. This is the act of farting as you walk, usually several farts and keeping in step with the shuffle rhythm. Personally, I've always enjoyed a good fart. One of my favorite things to do to my husband(s) is to fart when in a crowd and then give a dirty look or say  "Geez" or something similar. I've even done that to Sunny but he just smiled and wagged his tail and took credit. Yesterday I made a plate of nachos which had a lot of beans and peppers in it. Last night when we were in bed I cut loose with a few and even Lotto, the original fart queen, couldn't deal with it, she gave me dirty looks and went to Sunny's crate. I've always suspected that Sunny was somewhat of an aficionado of farts. He just stayed in bed and took over Lottos spot.

Some of the other perks are being able to dress weird or say what you want and people just chalk it up to being old and accept it. Damn that's fun. Earlier this week I went to town and had on a pair of red seersucker plaid shorts. Of course on me they came to my knees and a blue "Summer of 2011" t-shirt on without a bra. So that means means not only were my shorts to my knees but my boobs were too. I had a pair of bright purple flip flops on. I wasn't quite the "people of Walmart" but I was damn close. Being an old goat gets the reaction of most people call you "sweetheart"  and helping you carry stuff. Old age is great. I never knew that all my life when I helped old people that they were scamming on us and really playing the old coot card.

Finally, it's okay to be as eccentric as you want and it's just chalked up as old. Actually, I've always been eccentric, ask my sister, she knows she's eccentric too. I have decided to be a nudest at home. the dogs don't mind, they're nudists too. So if you don't want see me without clothes let me know your coming. I went to see my doctor (actually my nurse practitioner) and found out that I am now 4' 11". I used to be 5' 1 1/2". When you are short, that extra 1/2 inch is important. Just like if you ask a kid how old they are, they always add that fraction on the end. Somehow between then and now I lost a couple of inches. Unfortunately, I kept the pounds. My newest endeavor is studying shamanism. The Indians called them medicine men. The name doesn't matter, the subject is the same. So if you come to visit without calling, you may be able to catch  me dancing in the nude in the moonlight with leaves on my head, my grabber in my hand and turkey feathers up my ass. How's that for a visual! Til next time

.......and the rabbit done died!

Life around here just keeps getting funner and funner! The weather has been intolerable. As Mathew Broderick said in Biloxi Blues, "This is hot, this is Africa hot, Tarzan couldn’t stand this hot! Let me tell you how hot it is, the Yorkies won't come outside to bark. Of course they are Yorkies, have a lot of hair, are very short and could drown in a shallow puddle and wouldn't want to get their ribbons wet. Nothing stops the Doos from running amok, except of course rain. God forbid they should get a paw wet! I've told them over and over that they have nothing to worry about, they aren't sugar which would melt but poop floats. I didn't use the word poop but I'm trying to watch my language. I think I heard Mira bark a "bad word".

We had a death in the neighborhood. I told you that besides Yorkies and the big lab, the neighbors have rabbits and none of them are neutered so they have an ever changing population. Well I heard from Donny that one of the rabbits kicked the bucket. It was one of the older rabbits I was kind of hoping it was that bad tempered one that throws her dish. She's a real Diva or so she thinks. For crap sakes she is a RABBIT no rabbit is a Diva. Anyway, they had a funeral for the rabbit and buried it. They buried it on the hill on the side of my house which the little girl informed me is where they bury all the dead rabbits. Gee thanks!! My first thought was I wonder how long it will take one of the dogs to dig it up and drag it home. That what we really need on a hot humid day, a dead rotting rabbit, yeah that’s the ticket!

I always let the second shift out in the morning after Sunny and Lotto have been out tooling around peeing on everything and crapping in the neighbor’s yard. I know, I know, but they bury dead animals in my yard!! There is some sense of justice. So anyway the second shift goes out. This is comprised of Riggins, Siren, Mira and Sunfire. Usually Riggins comes right back and starts tattling on the other dogs. He is such a butt kisser! Today he didn’t and I stepped out on the front porch and see him and Sunfire and Mira all looking at Siren who has something and is eating it. I take a good look (they are about 30’ away). I put on my glasses like that was going to help. I saw something white and furry and just knew it was a rabbit. I went back inside and put on some clothes and by this time the dead thing had changed owners and Sunfire had it. I managed to call him to me and of course he ignored me so I went up to him and the battle began. It was indeed a headless bunny. I don’t know why they insist on decapitating their kill but it must be some reason, it tastes best, they don’t want the thing to come alive again, it’s a religious thing, who knows. I saw that it was a good sized bunny but it was a domestic rabbit. I tried to wrestle the thing from Sunfire but he wasn’t giving it up he looked at me as if to say, get your own rabbit, this one is mine. He had quite a grip on it and I tried to pull his jaws apart and all he did was drool on my hand and bite down harder. I almost lost a finger on that. Then he took off with the rest of the pack behind him. I thought “oh great, they are going to play keep the dead rotting carcass away from mom” or better yet “pass the dead rotting carcass”. I finally grabbed him by the back of his neck and dragged him onto the front porch. I won’t delight you with all the gory details of the condition of the said rabbit. I decided if I was ever going to get that thing away from him I was going to have to suffocate him so I pinched off his nose and lips and waited for him to open his mouth and take a breathe and almost lost a hand the first time. Never one to say die (no pun intended) I tried it again and was quick enough to grab it when he took a breath. Okay, mission accomplished! I went and got all the wild beasts in their crates and took a pair of gloves picked up what was left of the bunny and double bagged it. I started to think. Okay now if this bunny died, what did it die of?? I went and looked at the rabbit and noticed a very large pair of balls attached to this rabbit. The one that died was a female. OOOkay. I took the rabbit over to the neighbors and asked if they were missing a rabbit. They said it was probably the one that died and then I told them that this was a boy. They went inside and OMG there was one missing, the big male!! All kind of thoughts were going through my head like how did the dog get inside, get the rabbit and get back out and knowing the Doos like I do there would have been carnage. After a short investigation they found that the cage wasn’t latched. This rabbit got out through the Yorkie doggy door and had plans to have a good time outside. As Dr King said, “Free at last, free at last, thank God almighty I’m free at last!” Now the only thing this rabbit knew about dogs was that it was bigger than the little furry yappers, no worry. I can just see it, there he was grazing in the sweet fresh grass when he suddenly went to rabbit heaven via a white and black tornado. I believe the tornado’s name was Siren. Dogs won’t share their catch until they are done with it or the alpha dog wants it, so Siren is awarded the kill. Siren 1, rabbit 0. I was going to ask them why they don’t bury the dead rabbits on their own side of the creek, but I didn’t think this was a good time for it.

In other news, Riggins was awarded the “Stinker of the week” award. Usually Riggins is a pretty good guy. He likes to boss around Sunfire and sniff Mira a lot but he doesn’t usually get into too much trouble. He has a really important place in the pack as Sunny’s back up, second in charge and he helps get the food too. Well everybody has been getting on each others nerves with this heat and everybody being inside. I have a couple of flyswatters that I keep handy, to swat flies and dogs when I want their attention. Last week Sunny was loudly washing his woo-woo. It sounded like he was enjoying a meal from KFC. The slurping and licking was LOUD. Anyway, I said “Sunny, knock it off”. Of course he ignored me. His take on this is “this is my woo-woo and I’ll lick it all I want, you won’t lick it for me”. I took the flyswatter and swatted him on the butt with it. He turned very indignantly and gave me a low growl. Not the kind of he’s going to bite me growl, more the kind of how dare you swat me, I’m the king don’t you know that growl. I gave him another swat and he copped a very uppity attitude and went to lay down on my bed. I told you what a suck up Riggins is. If Sunny ever stops quickly, we’re going to be taking them both to the vet to get Riggins head removed from Sunny’s ass. Okay, fast forward about an hour. I’m sitting here working at the computer and in comes Riggins he has the flyswatter all chewed up with large pieces missing. He has this thing by the handle and come and drops it at my feet. I swear he was saying “guess you won’t be swatting any more dogs with this, will you”. What he didn’t know but quickly found out was that I had 2 flyswatters……

Summertime and the Dals are lazy... PLUS Yorkie news!!

Summertime has arrived here in the mountains and it's gorgeous. Average daily temp around 80. All the Doos are into the season and that means taking a lot of naps. If there was any square footage left on the screened in porch I'd be tempted to join them. Those of you familiar with dogs you know that a 10 pound dog can take up to a 3'x3' space. So knowing that, I am here to tell you that the average sized Dalmatian can use up a 4'x4' space. God forbid that one dog should touch another dog when sprawled out. When you have 6 of these critters that's more than the size of a porch So picture this, you know that Sunny and Sunfire can't be out at the same time so there are usually only 4 or 5 out on the porch and the other one or two sprawled out on my bed. They like to take as much room as possible. That includes laying full length (sometimes on back) with legs spread out in four directions, head extended as far as possible with tongue hanging out (hey that extra inch or two is important). In addition in an effort to use every square inch possible, both ears are extended to the sides, this is a favorite especially when laying on their backs. Of course I guess I could prevent this if I closed the doors and turned on the AC but the weather is beautiful, the porch is in the shade and screened and I have ceiling fans. I have found one way to get some porch space is go out there with cookies. This immediately gets their attention. Take a few cookie pieces and toss them inside which will get most if not all of them in frenzy to get a cookie. The first time I tried this, I didn't think it through very well, because now that I was out their in my chair, they came running back in and proceeded to mob me in my chair before going and spreading out like the swine flu. Okay, second time I did a little better, I opened the gate, so that when they went out they could just go and run for awhile. Well, that worked for about 10 minutes after which they decided that it was too hot and Hey, look their is mama!! So again I got mugged but this time by wet dogs. I finally gave up. They say that you have to be smarter than the dogs and I haven't mastered that one yet. I've concluded that I'll just be cranky and walk over them giving solid nudges and a lot of "Hey you, move!(s)". That actually works some time.

Okay, there is some Yorkie news. There is a new Yorkie! He came to live with the other 3 because his mom went to live in an apartment. This one is different, he is small like the littlest one, but he is a pure cinnamon color. He moved in thinking that he was going to rule the roost and the other 3 took care of that in a matter of minutes, Especially the big blond one! I also have to admit that one of them has fallen in love with me. It's hard to dislike anything that small that loves you. This affair started slowly by me going to visit the neighbors and of course all the Yorkies were raising hell. After I had been there a few minutes the littlest one, his name is Tate, came sniffing around and I just picked him up and started to idly pet him. I looked down and I saw a look of pure love in this dogs eyes. That is what I could see of his eyes with all that hair in front of his face. I should have quit there because when I got home all the Doos surrounded me and I got  thorough sniff. Kind of like a fire hydrant in Central Park. A couple of them thought about peeing on me to mark me again but they got "the look" and decided it wasn't worth dying over. The next time I went out to pick up the mail, there was Tate on the porch, jumping up and down and wagging his tail as is to say "Hi, hi, I'm over here, come pick me up". Of course as I already admitted to not being smarter than a dog, I'd like to think I'm as smart as a dog but if you asked the Doos they would probably tell you "just go ahead and humor her, we go through this all the time". Anyway, the next time I was over at the neighbors, I just sat down and here was this furry little thing sitting on my foot and giving me adoring looks. I couldn't refuse so I picked him up again and he proceeded to snuggle under my neck and look at his daddy and mama is if to say, "look where I am". He even gave me a kiss, a little Yorkie kiss. His mama said that she was amazed, because he is the one who is very standoffish and more likely to bite. I think he realized I'm a kindred spirit, I'm very cranky and likely to bite also.

The new Yorkie tried to test me too. He is the same size as Tate but his face hair is clipped. Kind of giving him a little rat like face (with a big mouth!) I picked him up and he almost shit all over himself. I was holding him with one hand and had him face to face. Now as I've told ya'll

Talking about biting dogs, I mean you biting them, not the other way around. It's really important that dogs be taught that a kiss is a sign of affection. Your other alternative is to lick them, they understand that. That is usually going to leave you with a furry tongue and a dog who expects you to lick them. Kissing them is a much better choice. To a dog who hasn't been kissed they think you are trying to eat them. Can you imagine if you were swimming in the ocean and a Blue Whale swims up to you and opens it's mouth just as it gets to you. I guarantee that you will be all asshole and elbows trying to get away. It's not going to dawn on you that it is trying to kiss you. That's what dogs think when you first go to kiss them, "shit, this big thing is trying to eat me!!!!" Even tiny puppies will pull back the first couple of times it is kissed. Not being eaten is one of those instinct things I guess. The other thing that goes through their tiny puppy brains is that their mother is just sitting there and not protecting them. I know what they think, "hey mom, pay attention this huge fur less thing is trying to eat me and you're just sitting there". Of course you can do a huge amount of damage to a dogs trust if you approach them smiling and then bite them. My guess is the next person that goes to kiss them is in for a huge surprise!

Whoop-de-doo It's Birthday time again!!

You know, having a bunch of dogs is like having a bunch of kids. It's always some one's birthday!! Today (6/19) is both Siren and Riggins birthday, they are littermates. Seven years ago, Lotto was seriously regretting having anything to do with Sunny. About this time (5:30 pm) she delivered her first pup. Lotto is not one of those super whelpers. She likes to take a nice break between puppies. At about 9:00 pm she delivered what I thought was her last pup. Wrong!!! At 2:00 am she delivered Riggins. He has always been a little different. He was a perfect little pup. And for the past 7 years he has been doing things on his own time. So today we have a double birthday and Father's day to boot!

Naturally this called for a party. Again no hats, although Sunny does enjoy wearing the occasional stylish hat. We actually had to have 2 parties because Sunny and Sunfire simply hate each other. So we had the Father's day party in the afternoon and the Birthday bash in the evening. We served our usual fare, big bowls of ice cold water, hot dogs and BIG cookies. It was a rather reserved event for us. But Sunny enjoyed it.  He would have enjoyed it more if he could have beat up Sunfire! Sunfire didn't attend the Father's day party, but he did get treats. In the evening, we had our birthday party. Sunfire sang his long, loud version of the Wooo-Wooo song. Riggins joined in on that one, but they never did reach that perfect harmony. Siren, of course, danced her paws off and Mira joined her in her version of dancing which includes scooting across the floor. She tries her best, but Siren is the dancer in this family. Siren did her usual paw tapping and butt wiggling but because it was her birthday, she added a new step which was to get on her hind feet and wave her front paws in the air. I'm telling you that girl can DANCE. We celebrated with some chicken nuggets, ice cream and a group snuggle. Of course Sunny didn't attend this one, but he did share the treats too.

I'm getting too damn old to party like that. Lotto agreed, somewhere between the start and end of the Birthday party, she left and took some additional nuggets and went to lay on the bed. I wasn't far behind her. Oh, by the way, there has been a new development at the Yorkie house. There is a new Yorkie! Stay tuned for the next posting, hopefully this week. Same time, same blog, same dogs........

Snack Sneaking Strategies....

I believe that the joy of snacking is enhanced by sneaking said snack as opposed to being given it. In other words, stuff tastes better if you steal it. This is something most dogs know and practice religiously. Now this isn't to say that they will turn down a snack if offered, but it's always better if you can get one when no one is looking, or in Mira's case, even if they are.


 I  heard a great snack story lately that involved my sister's dog Gracie. Now Gracie is a senior with a big ole smile and gentle ways. She also has penchant for watermelon. A while ago my sister, Mary Lou and her husband, Jerry, were sitting around eating some watermelon on a hot day. Being the generous person she is, Mary Lou offered Gracie a bite. Gracie took her up on it and took the whole slice and ate it. Now I think as opposed to being a steal the snack incident it was a lack of communication. Mary Lou, as with most dog owners, are not aware of the subtleties of dog manners. Now I know that when you offer a dog something, they just assume that the whole piece is for them. Try offering your dog a bite of your sandwich next time and see if he/she doesn't swallow your whole hand! It's not bad manners, just a dog's way of thinking.

One of my best dog/snack story took place years ago when my ex and I lived in San Diego. We had a back deck that had a jacuzzi installed in it. The top edge of the Jacuzzi was flush with the deck. We were having a cookout and one of the guests was sitting in the whirlpool and had her hand elevated so as not to get her hamburger wet. We also had an elderly Beagle who was a  snack freak. The Beagle's name was Bagle. Well, Bagle saw this scene and a nonchalantly as possible cruised right by this woman, relieved her of her burger and kept on going. This lady didn't know what to do. Trying to keep from laughing too hard, we gave her another burger and put poor Bagle in the house. Bagel was a master at sneaking snacks. She could open up a refrigerator with either paw. Most dogs are either right pawed or left pawed kind of like humans. Now Bagel would not only steal snacks, she would hide or bury them in the house. One day I was on the phone and noticed the big pot my dead cactus had been in. Yes, I admit I killed it. Nobody told me they shouldn't be fertilized. Back to the story. Anyway, there was a piece of what appeared to be cling wrap sticking out of the planter. I took hold of the cling wrap and pulled and unearthed an almost full pound of bacon. Bagle was standing there giving me the stink eye as if to say, "get your own bacon". I wound up having to bungee cord the refrigerator door to keep her out of the frig when I wasn't at home.

The Doos also have their unique ways to steal food. Sunny's favorite thing to do with purloined goodies is to hide them under my butt or under the bed pillow. If  I'm sitting down, he just takes whatever it is and starts to use his nose to stuff it under me. This works alright if it is a rawhide bone or something else. Works out for him, not so well with me. If it is a sandwich or something it doesn't work at all. Come to think about it, maybe it does work, I don't want back a sandwich that has been smushed by a dog nose and stuck on my butt so he usually just eats it in that case. He's pretty brazen about stealing from other dogs, except Lotto who will kick his ass if he looks cross eyed at her.

Speaking of Lotto, she is very tactful when it comes to me, she just sits there are give me the "big eyes". You know the look, the I'm so cute how can you resist me. Most of the time I can't. When it comes to all the other Doos she just casually walks up and relieves them of whatever they have and calmly walks off with it. Nobody messes with the queen. There have been times when I have passed out rawhide bones and the next thing I know, Lotto has all six. When ever she takes something of Sunny's, he comes to me and starts to bounce and whine. It's a particular sounding whine and he has knit his brows together and wants to lead me to Lotto and whatever goodie she stole from him. Of course it doesn't seem to matter to him that what got stolen was probably stolen from another dog. I usually just tell him to just go get it himself. Knowing full well that even he doesn't mess with Lotto.

Siren steals things and then hides them under her blanket in her crate and then she goes and lays in her crate trying to look innocent. Usually work too. Riggins is very quiet about stealing. He learned from Sunny how to counter cruise and even how to open the oven door, so God help you is you leave any leftovers in the oven, Riggins will have it! My tip off is that it is too quiet. I'll go in there and there is Riggins and/or Sunny with a large casserole dish on the floor and feasting off of it!

Mira on the other hand is very straightforward. She doesn't care if you are there or not. She has this, "that's mine, thank you" attitude. She will take something off my plate with me right there looking at it and as she snarfs it down she is looking like, "what? you want it back now". I have had the experience with her where I was eating a sandwich and saw Mira straight across eating her way to me! She has no shame or stress from doing a bad thing. She will do this to Sunny too. He can have a rawhide or anything else and she will walk right up and take it from him. If any of the other Doos did that he would tear them apart. Now I can hear some of you saying "you need to train that dog!". Listen, she is 6 going on 7 and believe me I have tried! But then we all know that Mira doesn't play by the rules. Especially with Yorkies or food.


My favorite though is Sunfire. He is a kind of grab and go guy. He's a big believer in the "bad dog theory". You can see him start to build up. He is looking at something, straight on, nothing subtle about this dog. then  he just can't stand it anymore and he jumps, grabs,swallows and runs like hell. He has two things about him that make this a successful maneuver. First, he's fast as lightening and second, he could swallow an elephant whole. He heads straight for his crate and lays down and looks at me as if to say "what sandwich?" Now this heading for the crate is a genetic trait. Newt, Sunny's father is a very polite dog. When he senses that there is trouble lurking in the air, he heads for his crate. He does not want to be involved in trouble, he is a very good boy.. On the other hand, Sunny will do the bad thing and then head for his crate as if to say, "I know that I am going to get punished so I'll save you the effort and put myself away". Sunfire on the other hand puts a new spin on it. He speeds to his crate and then gives you the "what bad thing?"" look. Of course this is usually implied with some evidence on his muzzle such as crumbs. The look is usually followed by the "big eyes" meant to melt my heart. On occasion it works. Sunfire is only three and Sunny's son and it's very hard for him to be good for a long while. At the end of the day when I talk to all of them, when it comes Sunfire's turn we decide whether it has been a good or bad day for him. Either way, he lays his head in my lap and gives me that "I love you mom" look. Today was not a good day for Sunfire. He was bad in so many ways, I can't even count. But tomorrow is a brand new day and a new start for him. Yo9u gotta love those spots........

Baby Man turns three!

Hi everyone,
This past week has been exciting. We've had Yorkie sightings I went on the "Little Bus" to go shopping and Monday was Sunfire's 3rd birthday! If it got anymore exciting than that I'd probably just keel over. Okay, we had an actual Yorkie sighting this past weekend. Yorkies are kind of like moles (not the face kind, the dirt kind). They don't venture out much when it is hot outside. I guess their tiny bodies can't take the heat. But on Thursday last week, I saw one playing outside. He was the little one. He was just having a time of it running and jumping at the little blue moths, acting like a real dog. I figured that his people didn't know he was out there and I was right. His mom came out and started calling him. Again, acting like a real dog, you could see his little mind twitching, "should I ignore her or be a good little toy dog and go to her. Well, good won out over bad and with his little ears down he went to his mama and went inside. I kind of felt sorry for the little booger. This little guy and I are kind of friends. Ever since I baby sat for them, this little one runs out onto the porch every time he sees me and gives tail wags and little barks and jumps up and down. I still don't know what his name is, I call him Critter. The other two don't trust me and still do the ferocious bark thing and run like hell when they see Sunny or Mira, what they don't realize is that the other four are just as likely to eat them as Sunny and Mira, Actually, Mira might eat them, she damn near eats anything, but Sunny can be a fussy eater and I don't know if Yorkie is on his preferred list. I know cat is.

Oh the joys of being an old fart. I may never drive again. I found that Rabun county (GA) has a great service. Actually it has several services. This county has a lot of seniors and is also a pretty wealthy county to boot. The service I used is called "Dial-a-ride". This is so cool, you call the day before and schedule a pick up (of you) and a little bus comes right to your door and a nice bus driver helps you into the bus. In my case, I even got a little footstool because of my little short legs. I got taken to the doctor's office first and then picked up when I was done and taken to Walmart to shop. I got picked up when done and the nice bus driver unloaded all my stuff from the cart into the bus and then unloaded all my stuff into the house when we got to it. All this great service and for only $6.00! That includes being picked up, stopping at up to three places and being brought home. As I said, I may never drive again!!

Okay, for the big news, ta-da..... Baby Man (Sunfire) turned 3 years old on Monday. Remember that I told you that male Dals don't grow a brain until they are at least 5 years old? Well that still applies. He is still a goober and a silly dog. I had bought some ice cream for his birthday, vanilla, because I am not even going to deal with the "I want this type etc". If ice cream came is "butt" flavor everyone would be happy. I also got some hot dogs too. So we all had a "Doo birthday party". We don't wear hats, but we do dance and eat and sing. Siren favored us with her rendition of the "Boogey woogey blues". Which is made up of some complicated shuffles and jumps along with a lot of body wagging. That girl can cut a rug. Sunfire and Riggins sang the "Wooo-wooo-wooo song" They are a great duo. Mira practiced her slight of paw hot dog stealing. Sunny of course couldn't attend because he acts like a complete asshole and fights with Sunfire, but he did share in the goodies. Lotto just hung around and ate and smiled. The rest of the evening was given over to competitive farting. Dogs are lactose intolerant and hot dogs make everyone fart. Lotto won the contest, she has years of practice on all of them.

Okay, last bit of news is that Sun man has decided to throw his paw back into the ring. He is going to be shown as a veteran starting with the Atlanta shows in October. He is very excited about this and very sure that he is winning material. We have already begun a show routine with him which involves an hour or two of exercise, usually running through the creek followed by scaring the crap out of the Yorkies. His diet is also changing, he is now regulated to eating only high quality dog food, no more pizza or oreos. That one hurts, but no pain, no gain. Finally we are extending his rest period by 1 hour, so instead of getting 13 hours of sleep a day, we have upped that to 14. The good part of that though is that he gets to sleep that extra hour sleeping on the bed, same as the other 13.

Well folks, I'm gonna sign off for now. I have plans in the future for visiting the Senior center. That ought to provide some great material. Seniors are even funnier that Yorkies......

Goats and Virgins..........

I just had an interesting Emily Latella moment. Some of you may remember her, the character played by Gilda Radner on the original Saturday Night Live. Miss Latella was an elderly lady who used to get her knickers in a knot over something she misheard. My favorite of hers was a rant she did because she heard this big effort was going on because of "endangered Beagles". Of course she misheard "endangered eagles". After every piece when she had been corrected she would say,  "never mind"....

Well, I had one of those today. I was scanning through my email, without my glasses of course. I was checking the spam page when I saw, or thought I saw one from one of these dating companies saying "Meet Ray, he loves goats and virgins". That got my attention. I squinted even closer and yup, that's what I thought it said. Of course, I didn't care if this was spam, I wanted to see a picture of this guy. So I went and got my glasses and came back and realized that it had really said, "Meet Ray, he has goals and values". Well that's boring! Life is so much more interesting without glasses. This has given me a few thoughts about stuff like that, that I'd thought I'd share with you.

I remember a birthday card I gave my sister about 30 years ago. Yep that's the same one that tamed the Impala, I've only got one, but she's enough. Anyway, it had a picture of a woman on the front and it said " Happy Birthday, one year older" and you opened it up and it said, "and one year closer to looking like mom!"
Well, Mary Lou dropped that thing like it was on fire and screamed. I thought it was a great card, hardly deserving of that reaction. The point is like it or not, we're getting older and that moment is going to arise, if it hasn't already, when you look in the mirror and your mom or dad or some other relative is looking back at you and this is not a good hair day for them. Luckily, this usually happens when you first get up in the morning, so it can screw up your whole day, or sometime other than when you are looking your finest. If it happens to you when you are all dressed up, than you need to make a serious review of your wardrobe, or better yet, just take out the teeth, put on your robe and slippers and check yourself into an "assisted care facility" it's all over for you. Every once in awhile my dad or mom show up in my mirror. I'm waiting for the day, my Aunt Lena shows up. That's going to be an omen.

I remember one day when my son Jason was in high school and his girlfriend was over at the house. Jason is a strikingly handsome young man, but he does favor his father some. Anyway, my ex used to work nights, so he would sleep days and afternoons. It was his habit at some time in the afternoon he would wake up for a snack and wander into the kitchen to find something to eat and then wander back to bed. This was usually accompanied by wearing a pair of loose holey jockeys and a lot of ass scratching and hair that was standing straight up and dried spit in the corners of his mouth. Anyway, we are all sitting in the family room and guess who comes walking through in true form? The devil made me do it and I pointed out to the girlfriend that if she stuck with Jason, this is what she could look forward to in about 40 years. Her head snapped around so fast I'm amazed she didn't get whiplash. Luckily, she wasn't "the one". Luckily for Jason that is, I've seen her mom!


The interesting thing about this process of aging is that it happens gradually and we don't really notice it until one day, boom! there it is. I remember thinking that my mother had to be a complete idiot some of the things she did. We would get home from the grocery store and be putting things away and inevitably my mom would say something like "that's not what i wanted" and I'd think to myself, then why'd you buy it? Shades of "goats and virgins" here. I do that myself. I'll be looking through the cabinets and see something and think, when did I buy that? Or go to get a can of beets from the cabinet and find that instead I bought "extra slimey okra with pigs feet". Yeah, I had the glasses on for that one!

I know I am a constant source of amusement for the Doos. Especially when I lose something and go looking for it. they love to watch me search the same place 15 times, all the while the something I'm searching for is sitting about 3 feet away in the wide open. I think once in awhile they actually take my keys, for example, and hide them in a crate and watch me go nuts trying to find them and then put them back in the same spot i had just searched. I'm suspicious of that because I have seen a little paw slapping going on behind my back. They also love it when I go searching for something, forget what it was and then have to come back after I've remembered. I see some nudging going on as I come into a room and then get that blank look and leave again only to return when I've remembered. Bill Cosby said he figured that we had a memory button somewhere on our butts that activated when we went to sit down after forgetting what it was we were looking for. He said that life would be much easier if we could find the button and just push it when we forgot.

As for me, I'm enjoying old age. I'm going to keep on not wearing the glasses and read some interesting things. I'm going to keep on buying things that I wouldn't eat if it was the last can on earth. I'm going to continue to amuse my dogs with senility. I'll leave you for now with my last foray into senility. Last week, I went nuts looking for my glasses. I don't care how many pair you have, you can never find one when your looking. Finally, I made one of my 300/day pee stops and was sitting there on the commode and looked into the mirror and saw my glasses... on my face... Ain't life weird!

It was a '64 Impala officer......

Dear God, can you die of asphyxiation from dog farts? It either that or I'm getting light headed from the lack of oxygen in the room. Actually 90% of what we breathe in is Nitrogen, but I think dog farts displace that too. I thought if I go I'd better leave someone a note telling them why and blaming it on "the bad dog". I don't know what these dogs are eating, I'm feeding them their regular kibble. They smell like pickled eggs and beer farts which are in a class all of their own. I have an ex-husband who had a penchant for pickled eggs and beer. He also had a fondness for holding my head under the covers. If you have ever smelled one of these wonders, you will never forget it. Now all I have to do is find their stash of pickled eggs and beer! I'll throw out the pickled eggs and drink the beer.

Speaking of the bad dog, I was cooking the rest of the hamburger that I put in the freezer tonight. Naturally, I have dogs following my every move hoping I'll pass out and then they can get the hamburger. Maybe that is what the farts are all about. I very casually turn and mention that if the bad dog was thinking of making an appearance tonight, that I would kill the first dog I see and then go after the bad dog. I told them, "see I have 6 of you and this is the last of my precious ground beef!" Nobody even moved an ear and some of them even went to lay in their crates. Of course, Sunfire wasn't among them, he is an eternal optimist. The hamburger was great!

Have you ever been laying in bed trying to take a nap and you know how your mind wanders? I was doing that today and an old memory came drifting by. I started laughing so hard I was snorting. Lotto thought I was having a heart attack and came up to see what was wrong. She saw me having hysterics, snot running down my nose and unable to stop either. She looked at me with that goofy smile she has where she squints her eyes, scrunches up her ears and lifts her front lip. In the Dal world, this is known as a "smarl", half smile, half snarl. The cause of this was a memory that as far as I can remember was the funniest experience of my life. Now my sister who was the other 1/2 of the experience may not have agreed at the time, but since then we have had some great laugh fests remembering this.

This whole memory thing came about because I was looking for a new picture to put up for Facebook. I have one posted, a 6th or 7th grade picture of me  looking so cute in my catholic school uniform. Anyway, I see something on the picture and enlarge it to see what it was. It was tire tracks! I sent my sister an instant message about it and she answered back that it was from a "'64 Impala". At the mention of that I started laughing and snorting etc. The little incident this afternoon was just a continuation of that. I've been laughing my ass off about this for 3 days and decided that anything that funny needs to be passed on to the loyal pig and Yorkie fans.

Okay, picture this, it was 1970 + and my sister and I had been to the mall shopping.We had on our elephant bell pants, platform shoes, long straight hair etc. We had just come out of TJ-Max at a large mall and were getting ready to cross to the parking lot. You know how you glance to make sure someone isn't trying to mow you down and then proceed. I was on the right, my sister Mary Lou was on the left and everything was clear on the right and there was a car moving towards us on the left but with plenty of room to stop. So we are having this conversation and we both hear a lot of people saying "Whoa, Whoa" and "STOP". About this time this car goes in front of me and I see my sister leave with the car. My first thought was "that's pretty damn rude, I'm talking to her and she leaves!" A millisecond later it dawns on me that she had just been hit by this car and was riding the front passenger side of the fender. Now let me take time to stage the whole thing for you. When I glanced left, there was a car coming, but I thought it would stop, it wouldn't have had to slam on it's brakes or anything, that was assuming on my part that it had brakes What I saw go in front of me was a 1964 Chevrolet Impala with 7 large African American men riding in it, all of them hollering "WHOA" or "STOP" and had the doors open and feet were dragging on the ground in a vain attempt to stop this train of a car. I bring up the fact of their ethnicity only to give you an idea as to their state of mind. This was the '70's in the south and a car full of black guys just hit a white girl in front of a well populated mall and it appeared that they didn't even try to stop. I look up at the car as it is leaving and see my sister riding that fender like a Brahman bull at a Texas rodeo. She didn't want to fall off and get run over by the thing but all she was missing was a cowboy hat and an arm waving in the air. They traveled about another 30 feet or so before they came to a stop. I think by this time the guys were outside the car trying to stop it. Now this happened before I studied physics, but the 1964 full sized car, which the Impala is, is a certified land yacht, you could sit 8 people in that car and 7 very comfortably. You could rent out the back seat to a family of 5 and the trunk to 2 families of illegals. The words momentum and inertia describe this incident. As a matter of fact if you look up momentum you'll see a picture of  '64 Impala with some cowgirl riding the right front fender. Of course I ran after the car and got there about the time it stopped. Just in time to see Mary Lou slide off the fender. There were a couple of guys trying to help her and another one trying to sign her up for the bronc riding event in the next Olympics. She appeared to be a little dazed but unhurt, can't understand that can you?? I asked her if she was alright and I think she said yeah. I don't remember much more about that, I was laughing too hard. We made a pact not to tell our mom. I think it was because we were driving her car and I think sometime after that we did tell her. My mom passed in 1988 and it was probably not too long before that that we told her. Can't let someone die without knowing that one of her daughters got hit by a car and the other one almost had a cardiac laughing at it. I think Mary Lou wound up with a huge bruise on her butt. But it was well worth it to give us damn near 40 years of great laughs. We did retrieve her purse before we left. It was one of those hippie shoulder bags made from suede with fringe. I am here to attest that she never could get the tire print off of that thing. I hope she still has it. Now, if you thought this was funny to read about, you should have been there to see it.

Today is my mother's birthday, she would have been 91, Happy Birthday Mom. In three days, the 18th, it will be my sister's birthday and she will be 54. I want to thank her for being my sister and loving me no matter what and especially for giving me one of the funniest memories ever. Love you Lou!

Return of the "bad dog"....

You know the song, "Summertime and the livin is easy" I just changed the lyrics to "Spring is here and the Dals are crazy". I think it has something to do with being cooped up in the winter and finally allowed to run and play and knock old people over. Lotto and I are the 2 old people here and yes, we've both been knocked on our butts by a Dalmatian moving like a freight train at full speed who isn't looking at where they are going. This is usually attributed to Sunfire because he is the youngest, fastest and brainless. Okay, those of you who don't own Dals may not understand this, but I'm sure there is an equivalent in other breeds. Those of you who own Dals, especially male Dals, will  be nodding their heads in agreement. Male Dals, especially those still intact, do not even approach growing a brain until around 5 years old. Until that time they are big, powerful, brainless goobers. Sunfire is not quite 3 years old yet so this definitely applies to him. I have been out walking with Lotto, the rest scream past at about 90 mph. Sunfire is always torn between wanting to run as fast as he can for as long as possible and being with mama. So in his brainless way, he combines the two to come up with running at mama at about 90 and not putting on any brakes and not jumping any hurdles. Okay, back to the walk. Lotto and I are walking up the road to the mailbox and the 4 others (not Sunny) at running like a pack of thoroughbreds and heading into the second turn when Sunfire sees mama and Lotto on the other side of the creek. You can see he is having a hard time making a decision but in the end the big old wussy mama's boy wins out and he comes scre4aming back towards us. I'm hollering at Lotto who is in front of me and sniffing a pile of poop to move, more like "MOVE, MOVE, MOVE" and she is ignoring me. So here comes Sunfire with his eyes on me and oblivious to anything else in his path. Sunfire is solid muscle and bone and about 60 pounds. He literally mows down Lotto and tumbles her on his way to me. Meanwhile I move out of the way at the last second because I've been where Lotto is and because if you move too early, he will correct his path of destruction. As he goes past me he remembers to stop and it doesn't hurt that I'm hollering at him at the top of my lungs to "STOP". Meanwhile, Lotto is getting to her feet and looking a little disoriented. However, ever since that incident when she hears me holler "MOVE" she does, quickly and far away from me. Sunfire's idea of affection are big paw hugs. This is where he wraps his front paws around your arm or legs, whichever is closer and tries to drag you off. Sometimes he will even "mouth" your hand while dragging your leg or grab a mouthful of hair to tug on if he has your arm. I told you, he is a large puppy, a very strong, lovable affectionate puppy.!

I bring all this up about male Dals not growing a brain until 5 to possibly explain an incident that happened 2 days ago. When we moved up here I wanted to eat better and also being on a limited income, I had given up eating meat, However, once a carnivore, always a carnivore. I was grocery shopping and I smelled what distinctly identified as a hamburger. That was it. All my willpower was exhausted and I snagged a pound of hamburger before I hit the checkout. Okay, Okay, I also got some breakfast sausages and a KitKat too. I confess, I added a diet Coke at the last minute. Well I blew my "all water" part of the diet too. Anyway, there was no guilt to be found, only anticipation of a juicy hamburger with chips (did I forget to mention them?) I came home and fed the Doos in some fantasy idea that they would leave me alone. Right! I started to prepare my burger by cutting the pound of ground chuck in half and putting the other half in the freezer. If you are going to have a burger, it needs to be a greasy one. I was frying the burger with all the appropriate spices on it, also known as the "men's basic 4 spices" that go on everything, salt, pepper, garlic powder and onion salt. and sauteing onion on the side. Now I am a burger purist. I don't want a garden salad on my burger, just cheese, sauteed onions and mustard. I had forgotten to buy buns, so I was using 2 slices of bread. My bread was laying open side by side with the hamburger, cheese and onions on one slice and mustard on the second. I turned slightly to the left to get a paper towel and all I saw was this blur. What an athlete. Here came SunfireDoos were looking at each other like "Oooh is he in trouble". None of them have ever stolen any food while I was right there before. Well there was one time that Mira snagged a chip from my plate and ate it joyfully while looking at me like "you end want it back now that I've slobbered on it??" But we all know that Mira "ain't quite right".

After about 30 minutes I let him out again. They don't remember what they've done at that point. Of course all the other Doos were right there to remind him. I was working at the computer and here comes Sunfire sidling up to me with this look of total regret on his face or maybe it was fear of death. Anyway, he is tentatively mouthing my elbow very gently and I turn to look at him and say' "what?". Now the dogs and I have conversations all the time. They have very expressive faces and I talk and make up what they are saying, but somehow it always seems pretty close. He looked at me with total love on his face as if to say "I love you mom". I replied, "you ate my hamburger". His response surprised me, he said "No, I didn't it wasn't me". I replied that I saw him and he told me his version of the theft. He said that as he was sitting there being a good boy, not trying to drag mama away, and this other dog ran past him and stole the hamburger and ran into his crate. He told me that the other dog looks just like him and that maybe it was Sunny. Nice try but Sunny had been in his crate, He then told me the other dog's name was Sunfire, too. Now that was stretching it a little. I said, okay, let me get this straight, there is another dog in this house who looks just like you and his name is also Sunfire? All the Doos were agreeing. I could hear in the background murmurs and whispers of "the bad dog". Now the "bad dog" was a fictional dog that lived with us when the Doos were all younger and would do bad stuff and then the Doos would get blamed for it. Every bad thing that happened was because of "the bad dog". We hadn't seem him around for awhile, I just assumed he got bored and moved on. But evidently, "HE'S BACK!" I looked at Sunfire and said "right!", at which prompt he grabbed my arm with his paws, yanked a hunk of hair on my head and tried to pull me out of my chair. He did calm down a little when I threatened to kill him first and then go looking for the bad dog.

Alright, I know this is long and it's going to get longer, so either come back to it later or go pee now. For those of you who are troopers and will staunchly carry on, let's go. Because of the incident with Sunfire bowling over Lotto, she now goes out with Sunny when he goes. This works out good for her because he goes for long walks or runs and usually comes back an hour or so later. Sunny used to go out with Mira but that's like letting 2 psychos out together and they just fed off of each other. Now Mira goes out with Sunfire, Riggins and Siren. The three of them keep her in check, not that it does any good. Her latest thing is to go up to the Yorkies storm door and and do the crazy dog thing while they in turn snarl and bark at her feeling safe because of the door. God help us if that door ever gives way,  there will be some shittin and gittin Yorkies with the Tasmanian devil in hot pursuit.

Sunny has always been very protective of Lotto and usually they hang around together and have for all their lives together. At first it was a wonderful love story, like Pongo and Perdita in 101 Dalmatians but 3 litters later and several years it's become more like Fred and Ethel Mertz in I Love Lucy. Like I said, we have conversations. They do too, especially Sunny and Lotto. They hang out together on the bed or where ever and you can hear them grumbling at each other and then an occasional lip lift and finally one will turn their back on the other. The day after the burger incident they had been out together and here comes Sunny galloping up the drive without Lotto. So here he comes all smiles and prancing. He gets about 20 feet from me and I ask him, "where's Lotto?". Now he does know what this means. He stops and gives me a look that says "Who's Lotto?" I tell him she's that short pudgy little female Dalmatian that you left with. He starts looking around and then sticks his nose in the air and after a second he takes back off in the direction he came from. About 2 minutes later, Both Lotto and Sunny come trotting up the drive. I'm fussing at Sunny on the way into the yard that he shouldn't just leave Lotto that she could get lost or something bad could happen. Later on, the two of them are hanging out on the bed and your can hear them begin to talk. Sunny asked Lotto where she had been when he came home. He said "one minute you were there and the second you're gone". She told him that she had been right where he left her when he ran off. He asked her what had happened the other day with Sunfire and the burger, so she filled him in but when she got to the "bad dog" part Sunny let out one loud bark which translates to "Bulls_ _t!, and she believed him!!" Lotto shrugged. Sunny said "that's why I hate that little asshole, he gets away with everything". Lotto replied "He's your son" and Sunny said, "Don't start again!" After a few moments of silence, Sunny said "You know, we're gonna have to start looking after that one". Lotto asked, "Sunfire?" and Sunny said, "No, the old one, she gets crazier every day. Did you hear her out there hollering when the asshole knocked you down, like you're supposed to understand MOVE and now this bad dog BS". Lotto said, "She's your human, you take care of her". Sunny said, "wait a minute, you were here before I was". Lottie shrugged and said "someday, she's going to go out with you and your going to leave HER someplace and then she will be gone and who's gonna hunt for kibble then, you??, you couldn't hunt down a lame Yorkie!". Sunny gave her an indignant look and said, "Kiss my spotted ass". Lotto gave him a disgusted look and replied "pick the spot you're all ass, no pun intended". At that point there was a little bit of lip lifting and a very quiet growl. Lotto turned facing away from Sunny with her butt close to his face and farts....

I forgot Lotto.......

In my mama dog tribute, I forgot about Lotto in my haste to publish. Please don't tell Lotto, she'll send Mira after me and we all know what a nasty little ankle biter she is. Okay, Lotto is the mother of all the Doo's with the exception of Sunfire whose aunt is also his mother and yes that was a planned breeding. Lotto still thinks he's hers though, she thinks any group or single puppies who come in this house must be her's because she's never seen anyone else in the house deliver pups so by default they must be hers.

Lotto's first litter was an experience. As with most first time mothers, she wasn't sure what was going on with that first puppy but Mother Nature soon kicks in and she was delivering those pups like she had done this all her life. Now Lotto is a fairly calm dog and usually isn't in a huge rush to do anything except go for a ride or eat cookies and this carried over to whelping (birthin' pups). There was at least an hour between pups and 5 hours between the next to the last puppy and Riggins. Riggins was born in his own good time and has done everything else in his own good time ever since and dancing to his own music.

Sunny, who is the puppy's father was facinated by them and wanted to spend all his time with them in the whelping box. Of course that didn't go over well with Lotto and she would chase him away and bite him on his nose. That's a dominance thing with Lotto, when she wants to exert her place with anyone else she bites them on the nose. She even does that to me, but she doesn't bite down, just holds my nose in her mouth.


At some time during the first week of the pups life, Sunny hatched a plan to steal one of the pups for himself. He waited until Lotto went out for a potty break and went into the room that the puppies box was in. I saw him come out with something in his mouth and run into his crate facing the back. He opened his mouth and very gently let a puppy out and licked it and then laid his head down on it when Lotto came back. He definately underestimated Lotto's ability to count. She went into the room, came flying back out ran straight to his crate climbed in snarled and bit him on the head, took her puppy in her mouth and took it back to her box. After about 20 seconds, long enough to determine the pup was alright, she came tearing back and into Sunny's crate and tore him a new a_ _hole!! Sunny has never tried to steal another pup since.

As I said before, Lotto seems to think that whenever a pup or litter comes in the house, they must be hers. This has led to some amusing incidents. During my time working with Dal rescue, I've even fostered some litters or individual pups. Now all the other Doo's seem to get it, these little guys are here to stay until they are old enough to be adopted. Not Lotto. The scene usually goes like this. I will bring the litter or singleton home and set them up in a whelping box or a puppy playpen. At some point Lotto will come to see what I am doing and she always has this suprised look on her face. She will look at the pup(s) then at me then the pups and back at me etc. etc. I will hold the pup near her to let her sniff it and she will and usually lick it too. At sometime during the next hour she decides that these (this) pup is hers and takes up the roll of "mom". She doesn't nurse them but will hang out if they are bottle fed if need be. She will keep them clean, safe and let them run all over her and stay with them. I'm not sure if she really thinks they are hers or if she understands that she is a foster but she is a good mom anyway.

Now in the case of Sunfire, he came home at 4 months old. She treated him as if he was one of her pups and swhortly after, let him know his "puppy pass" had expired. She still treats him as she does Riggins, Siren and Mira and he treats her the way they do, with a lot of respect. If you could have seen her tear into Sunny over that pup, you would understand where Mira gets it from. Lottie is my all time favorite mother dog. She stays calm (except for that one case) and never gets her fur ruffled by a litter of pups. That's like giving birth to 6 to 8 kids at one time and raising them by yourself, NO thanks.....

And a Happy Mother's Day to You.....

I just had the crap scared out of me, I couldn't find the blog. After you pass 60 you should never have more than one email account. I have two, actually three if you caount my work. So that is two accounts I can't remember anything about. I am forever changing my password because that's the only way I can access my accounts. I need to have the information tatooed under my boobs. I have 2 of them, they hang very low and I probably wouldn't lose the info that way. It's something to think about. But then I'd probably forget where I left them and wouldn't remember until I shower, but would forget again by the time I got out and dried. As clarification, I'm talking about losing my information, not my boobs.

Well Mother's Day has passed and I have wished all the Mother's I know, a happy day. When talking about mothers, I have known some exceptional dog moms in my life. In honor of them I dedicate this posting to three of them. These three are all related to my dogs, but not to each other. One is a great grandmother, the next is a grandmother and the third is the mother of the Doos. I'm talking about Starlet, an incredible diva, Millie, my very best dog friend and of course Lotto. These three ladies have produced some incredibly beautiful show dogs, some dedicated clowns, some fruitloops and goobers but overall the most loving and affectionate spots around.

I will start with Miss Starlet. She is the "Grande Dame" of the whole group. Starlet was a sweet little little liver girl with more attitude than any other three dogs could have. the best description I ever heard of Starlet was that she walked like she was wearing high heels. We blame, uh I mean credit Starlie with some of the strangest traits that keep popping up in this bloodline. Starlet was the original "hat". There have been several since, including Sunny. What do I mean by a hat? Just that, she likes to perch on your head with her feet dangling either on your ears or in your eyes. Now Starlie was a petite little girl and it wasn't a neck crushing experience. However, Sunny is about 68 pounds now. Luckily he gave up this habit at about 20-25 pounds. However, unlike girl dogs whose underside is neatly tucked away, with the boys, you are just as likely to wind up with a set of balls resting on your nose. A strange experience to say the least.




Starlet was Sunny's great grandmother. This dog should have gotten the academy award several times for some of the performances she put on. The first time I saw Starlet in full blown drama, I was amazed and very impressed. My friend Julia (Starlett and Millies mom) and I were going to a dog show. We had all the dogs riding in crates in the back of her van. When we stopped for a break, Starlie started with this soft little whine which broke my heart. Now Starlie had this perpetually little sad face and combine that with the little whine. I felt bad about leaving her in the van. I also thought my friend was unbelievably cruel for not responding. I tried to make her feel better by talking to her, but no luck, as a matter of a fact she started cranking up the act from there. The next embellishment. was to lower her head and look up with her eyes and whine. She then began to shake all over. I thought the dog was having a seizure! She next started licking her lips in the most pathetic way and finally topped that all off with raising one little paw as if to say, "I'm just a small dog, help me!". I was ready to dash in and save her, but Julia told her to knock it off and closed the van door. I was convinced that we would come back to a dog who died of a broken heart. Julia told me to look in the window and see what Starlet was doing. Starlet was sitting in her crate with this look on her face that said "Shit, they didn't buy it".
she let out a sigh and layed down for a nap.

My second and most favorite story about Starlet happened again on the road for a dog show. We had 9 dogs with us and believe me that was a whole nother' story in itself. We had pups, young dogs, champions and one very pregnant Starlet! Now before you think we're crazy, let me tell you that at no time would we ever have chosen to take that many dogs on the road, but a family emergency left us no choice. As I said, Starlet was a petite little girl, but she knew how to pack those puppies in there. She looked like a cantalope on feet. She was so round and dragging that her feet were the only part of her legs that you could see. When she sat down, one of her front and rear legs was in the air and she could only rest on the other two. She sat in the front seat with me, moaning the whole time as if to say, "God, I am so uncomfortable". We finally made it to the motel and got all the dogs in and pottied etc and even got Starlet up on one of the beds with us, moaning and groaning the whole time, resting on two legs. She did perk up a little when she heard us discussing ordering a pizza. Well at least she stopped moaning for a minute, Pizza is her favorite food.Now at dog show motels, there is always a lot of activity going on in the hallways and outside. About 20 minutes later Starlet launches herself off the bed like Rocky the Flying Squirrel and was at the door by the time we heard a light knock. She was blocking the door and her entire body is wagging. Her eyes were the size of saucers and her whole body language was saying,"PIZZA, HURRY UP, I'M HUNGRY, PIZZA". She also beat us back to the bed and up on it. Her eyes were locked on the box and it was only by quick thinking that we stopped her from helping herself as the box was opened. Of course she got her share, and some of ours too!. She spent the night sleeping with Julia snoring, farting and burping, but very happy. My take from this is never get between a hungry, pregnant dog and a hot pizza. Injury could occur here and I'm not talking about the dog!

Starlet is no longer with us, she is waiting at the Bridge and undoubtably hogging all the pizza delivered up there. Save a piece for us.

The second mama dog I want to tell you about is Millie. She is my very best dog friend in the whole world. She is a lovely graceful  black and white lady with one brown and one very beautiful blue eye. I tell Sunfire that he got his beautiful blue eye from great grandma Millie. Millie is Sunny's grandmother. She doesn't have any of those strange habits that some of the others in the line do. To this day, Sunny will lay on the bed (his back half), lay his front half on the back of my chair at the computer and rest his head on my head and occasionally lick my eyes. This is the more updated version of "the hat". Millie is a princess and carries herself as such. She is incredibly friendly and loves to give kisses and paw hugs. When we decided to go to dog shows, Millie would get in the van and you couldn't have dislodged her with a hand grenade. She loved to ride in the seat with me and we would always share food on the trips. I remember one time Julia's mom made these incredible chicken salads with chunks of chicken and hard boiled eggs as well as broccoli and other good stuff. Millie was a perfect lady when she was sharing your food. If you did that with some of the Doos, you could lose a couple of fingers. She would sit there politely until she was invited and then she would gently pick a piece out for herself. This particular chicken salad was great. Millie was helping herself to the chicken and the egg. She would give me a look as if to say, I know you really like the broccoli and crackers, so I'm saving them for you and would take a piece of chicken for herself. Now I know some of you are saying, yuk, sharing a dish with a dog! But you would have to know Millie, she wasn't your average snuffling goobering slobbering in your dish dog, she gently chooses and takes a piece of chicken for herself, selflessly saving the broccoli for me. I miss those times of riding and sharing food with her. We have both become too old to ride to dog shows in vans stuffed to the roof with dogs.

Miss Millie is a princess in everything she does. She has given birth to some really great dogs, three at a time. Millie would never allow herself to become a large moaning mass. At each litter, she presented three pups. For her grand finale, she really outdid herself and had four. She was an incredibly loving mother and took great care of her babies. One of the funniest  stories I have is about Millie and two litters of pups. At this one particular time, Millie had a litter of 3 and Lotto had had a litter of 5. They were 5 weeks old and we had taken all eight of the pups to have their hearing tested. When we got back, Millie was in the yard and we turned all the pups lose in the yard with her. Her three pups ran over to her and began nursing. Lotto's five saw that and ran up to her too and started nursing. There stood Millie with all eight pups hanging from her and nursing away and she  was all calm and cool about it, the princess and the herd with teeth!












 I

sweaters and ponytails

I know it's been a little while. So many things  have happened. If any of you were wondering is we were alright after the tornadoes that hit in AL, TN and GA. We're just fine. I guess tornado's don't climb mountains. It was pretty hairy on Wednesday night though. We lost our power but didn't know anything about all the chaos down below. The wind was howling and the Doos were all in their crates literally under their blankets and Lotto decided she would park her butt under the bed pillow. Of course with dogs, they have this strange perception. If they can't see you, they are convinced that you can't see them. So picture this, Lotto has her head and shoulders under the pillow with the rest of her sticking out. I lifted the pillow and she gave me a "how did you know I was under there" look. She climbed under the covers all the way to the bottom and that's where she stayed. Big brave old Sunny was giving me looks like "move over mom, I'm coming in". Did I mention that we are sleeping on a twin sized bed. Yeah! Sleeping is probably not the correct word to use.

The other big news is that I had an opportunity to bond with the Yorkies. The Yorkies family was going away for a few days an I offered to feed them etc. I didn't say what I was going to feed them to, but that's a different story.  Now the Yorkies live with a big old sweet lab by the name of Max. I think I told you about him. But what I didn't know was that they also lived with 12 or so rabbits, all of which are bigger than the Yorkies. My first opportunity to get an up close with the Yorkies was in the afternoon that their people left. I go to the door and there are 3 Yorkies and Max. The little pipsqueaks are growling and snarling and jumping up and down. Max is just wagging his tail. I opened the door a little and informed these hairballs that the first one to lay a whisker or tooth on me was going to be used for field goal practice. I guess they took me seriously because they all backed off except Max who was looking for a cookie. When I got inside all I saw was 2 Yorkies. I thought the big one slipped through the door and I started to look for him. Then I saw they were all at the door repeating the jumping growling act. Got back inside and there were only 2 Yorkies. Oh well, the third one could have been hiding anywhere. I got my first good look at them in their "casual" attire. Uncombed, naked (no sweaters) and no ponytails. I picked one up and the dog damn near fainted. I turned him around a little, but there wasn't much to see. So I put him back on his perch on the back of the couch. The other one was in his little bed which was all red velvet, leopard fur and gold trim. He is the middle sized one. The big one was still hiding. Now this little guy has floppy ears. I never knew a Yorkie could have floppy ears. He was kind of cute in an annoying kind of little bait dog way. I gave Max a cookie and went to check the rabbits. Now this one female rabbit had a bit of an attitude issue. I had been informed of this on my tour of the rabbits. She has this habit of getting PO'd if you take too long to fill up her bowl and will fling the bowl across the cage. Rabbits eat these pellet type of things. They look just like rabbit turds. My first thought was that someone was really cashing in on this, they are collecting rabbit turds and repackaging them as rabbit food.Anyway, the rabbits were all kind of docile except for Miss Thing with the attitude. she saw me feed the rabbit next to her and Frisbee's her bowl across the cage. Geez what a grouch. The thing was, there was food in the dish but now it is on the bottom of the pen mixed in with the rabbit turds and you couldn't tell which were which because they are the same thing. I thought about teaching her a lesson and not giving her any food but I'm not sure rabbits can catch the subtleties and it would be lost on her and she probably would take it out on the rabbit next top her, bitching and whining in a rabbit sort of way. By the way, do rabbits make noise?



I fed the animals for 3 days and would let Max in and out. He looked like he could use a break from all the yapping and dish flinging and always gave me a really thankful look and I would give him a cookie to take with him. I never did see the third Yorkie, but I would see him when they were yapping and running around on their porch. They had these bowls that were self feeders and self waterer. I assumed that he was eating and drinking. The funny thing is that Max and the Yorkies all eat and drink from the same dishes. Now the food bowl is about one good size bite for Max and I noticed that you have to refill the storage part daily. But Max doesn't look like he has missed any meals.

Yorkies made a great escape out the door and headed right for Sunfire and Riggins. Of course, they were up for the game and stated to play a Dalmatian version of "Keep Away", tossing him to one another. The furball is screaming this high pitched scream and my boys think they have a real coup, they thought they had caught a squirrel! Thank goodness Mira wasn't around, we all know about her attitude and especially to the Yorkies. I told them to "leave it" and for once in their lives they did what I said. The Yorkie is hightailing it to his porch and runs in front of Lotto and she head butts him and sits on him. Like "I got him!". His people even thought that was funny. Meanwhile the Yorkie escaped and joined his buddy under the bed. I'll say one thing for my guys, they do good teamwork. You got to love those Dals!...

Sabbatical

Hey everyone out there. It's been pretty quiet around here without the Pig to bark at. Actually, that's not true, which would make it a lie, but I'm not admitting to a lie. Okay,  back to the serenity of the peaceful Blue Ridge mountains. Nothing is ever quiet with six dogs around especially when those dogs are Dalmatians who are notorious barkers. Since the pig has left us (a moment of silence for Pig and Piglet) the Doos have found any number of things to bark at including each other. They bark at squirrels, leaves, trees, water, humans and even me. Right now they are the great moth hunters. They are stalking moths as if they were a pride of lions on the hunt for antelope. Moths are not the brightest of God's creations, To say they are several french fries short of a happy meal is a classic understatement. They live to glue themselves to a lit light bulb and fry themselves to death. During the day, they lay down with their wings spread and soak up the sunlight which dries the dew off their wings so they can fly. This is all well and good except when you do this in snuffling distance of a curious Dal your going to that bright light in the sky. Now all of the Dals except Sunfire like the sport of hunting. Sunfire likes eating moths. Everybody else waits until night when they can sneak up on a flying moth and snatch it out of the sky. They aren't even too fond of eating them, just catching them in mid air. Now Sunfire is different. That's like saying if you fall off of a boat in the ocean, you might get damp. They are all different, but Sunfire is different different. He is the baby,  less than three years old, which in the world of male Dals, gives him the maturity of a pimply faced 15 year old. Male Dals don't even begin to mature until after 5 at which time they grow a brain. Anyway, Sunfire doesn't understand the subtleties of hunting. In his mind, why would you expend all that effort when you can pick them off like popcorn in a bucket during the day, watch them flop around, smack them around like a hockey puck, squash them with a paw and eat them. Makes perfect sense to him. The others look at him like "disgusting". Like he cares. His way of moth hunting may be a little too direct for them, but in the statistics of  "moths killed" he's leading the pack.

Oh, speaking of the Pig before. I found some juicy info I want to share. It seems that Piglet wasn't a piglet after all. he was one of those Vietnamese pot belly jobs, full grown. So it wasn't a big pig taking care of a little pig, they were FREAKS! It's like when you see those big fat women with those little skinny guys. I remember a long long time ago, hearing some woman in the grocery store telling the cashier how her husband had given her a whupping. This  woman was 400 pounds if she was a ounce and a good 5'8". All of a sudden  this little skinny guy comes up to her while she is having her groceries checked out, and by that, I mean the food. This guy is about 5'3" and a solid 100 pounds and none of that was muscle and very little of that was groceries. Okay, big deal, I checked them out. I was looking for the reason she would stay with a dickhead like that. Anyway, she yelled at him to get the groceries out to the car and at that moment I figured it out, they were freaks. That piglet was just like this guy, and the Pig was the equivalent of his wife. I look at that and know that God has a sense of humor. If you don't want to take my word for that, just look around for a few minutes or go to Illinois, but that's another story.

Okay, back to the title of this post. Sabbatical! I have decided to take a sabbatical, also known as checking out of civilization, off the grid, what ever you want to call it, I call it a sabbatical because it sounds classier. Now you're thinking, where you live is out of civilization! You are right but sometimes I have to go to town for something or another and that's a big PITA. So I decided that I would take one month off,  stocked up on groceries and dog food and biscuits and library books. The aim of this was to stay here on the mountain for a month and just enjoy myself and the dogs.  I work from home using the computer and that's only a few hours a day. I thought that it may drive me stir crazy but 12 days into it and I'm enjoying life more than I ever had. It's great to wake up to the mountain air and sounds of the creek. Sit on the screened porch and watch Sunfire eat moths. I spend the day working around the house and the yard which doesn't take long, watching the dogs run and play in the creek, reading, listening to music and watching the dogs stalk bugs at night. Now this may sound boring but it's not. It's what I always dreamed of, peace and quiet (well maybe not so quiet) serenity and dreaming of my garden. If anyone would have told me 30 years ago that this was going to be my life I'd have laughed. If they said it 10 years ago, I would have smiled and said, "I hope so". So if you are out this way, let me know and drop on by, I'll be at home......

RIP Pig,,,,

Well as you can see by the title, I have some bad news. Worse news for Pig and Piglet. It's been confirmed that they are both now residing in that big sausage factory in the sky. Actually, I think they are actually residing in my neighbor's freezer. There is however a good side of this. Not for Pig or piglet, but their pen is one large compost heap and we'll remember Pig every time we eat a fresh tomato or other goodies from my soon to be garden.

Sunny still looks for Pig, but I think he is giving up hope. Meanwhile with Pig gone, the Yorkies are running wild. They run as a posse. You never see one alone it's always all three or none. They don't look alike, they all wear a different color sweaters. But beyond that, they still look different. One is really big for a Yorkie, he's about the size of a cocker spaniel. He's real mouthy. could give Riggins a run for his money as being the world's noisiest barking dog. But at least Riggins has a real bark, not a squeal that sounds like someone stepped on a chipmunk. Okay, Riggins bark is a little high which makes it very annoying. There is one regular sized Yorkie, you can tell he is a follower, not a leader, he looks to the big Yorkie for direction. Then there is this little pipsqueak Yorkie who really believes he's a Rottweiler in disguise. I mean in my own mind, I'm a 6' blue eyed blond who weighs about 125 lbs named Inga. However, I must say the Yorkie is probably closer to his dream than I am mine. The best way to describe this critter with attitude is to compare him to the toady in "A Christmas Story". Remember the bully and that short little bad tempered side kick of his? If you know who I'm talking about imagine a smaller version of that with 4 legs a lot of hair with a topknot and a sweater and you've got yourself the smallest Yorkie. He is always sucking up to the big Yorkie who pays him no attention.

Did I tell you about the old yellow lab who lives with these Yorkies? Well if I did, skip this part. There is an old male lab who coexists with these sweater wearing furry demons. To say he pays them no attention is an understatement. Of course, he pays no attention to anything except his owner and if has a nice spot in the sun, when he sees his owner he'll give a tail wag, but won't leave his spot for that. Lottie wandered over there one day and saw the lab. She looked at him and laid down in the sun, ignoring him and him ignoring her. Nothing like 2 old dogs hanging out in the sun. She stayed there for a few minutes and wandered on home. Lottie doesn't walk anywhere, she kind of meanders.at her own speed and ignores my calling to her. You gotta love that old dog attitude.

Okay, I'm digressing again . Back to the Lab and Yorkies. The lab doesn't pay any attention to them and they stay away from him. I have a sneaking suspicion that he may make a Yorkie snack out of them if they got to annoying him or at least sit on them. That's the thing about these little thugs, they raise hell when the dogs aren't out or at least Sunny isn't in the yard. They've seen Sunny clear the fence like an Olympic high jumper. The other dogs don't jump the fence but the Yorkies aren't taking any chances. Last week they were at my fence and raising hell. None of the dogs were out, but I let Mira out just for fun. She won't jump the fence, but being that she hates everyone not connected to the family she is a force to be reckoned with. She attacked that fence like a redneck on a pork chop You would of thought that she was going to go right through that fence. Of course she wasn't and that's lucky for the Yorkies. She has developed a rare kind of hatred for these dogs. Anyway, I didn't know Yorkies could run that fast on those short little legs especially when they were shitting on themselves. They literally flew up the road and have not returned. They continue to bark from their porch but will go inside when they see Mira. I would go inside if I didn't know Mira. Anyway, after she chased them off, she turned her back on the fence and kicked dirt. Now if she was a major league baseball player, she would have been kicked out of the game, but she's just little Mira who has a bad attitude .....

Beam me up Maslan

I mentioned Maslan Ofman (I'm not sure about the spelling but if you see my friend Joni ask her, she is up on stuff like that). Speaking of Joni, one night we were at her house drinking wine and surfing the alternative websites and came upon a post about Ms Ofman. It stated that she was employed by the UN in the position of "Ambassador of Interplanetary Relations". In other words, she is the welcome wagon lady for any aliens who happen to drop by the hood.  When you were a kid, do you remember drinking milk and some other kid would say something outrageous and you would spit milk out your nose? Well this was one of those moments except it was wine. We started to dig through some posts that people had created and the more we read and the more wine we drank the funnier it got. It seems that the United Nations, who is located in New York so guess who is paying the tab for this, decided that just in case some aliens decided to make a neighborly (or not) call to say "Hi", we needed an official greeter. Now this woman is no slouch, she has a PhD from some university in India,. Now is that prestigious or what! Anyway, her job is basically to hang out and wait for the aliens and then if they are friendly she will show them around New York City and maybe get them good seats at a play on Broadway. I made up the part about showing them around, nobody ever said what her job was beyond greeting them. Now the question came to us during this wine drinking and laughing, exactly how do you apply for this job? How much does it pay and what qualifications you need to be considered. Now we all agree that this is the lamest job on the face of the planet. There was no hoop-de-do when she took that office and exactly where is Hilary Clinton in all this??

After thinking about this for awhile I gathered a few thoughts on this. First off, it would take some ungodly amount of time for the aliens to get here, something like 85 million years to get here. Secondly, if they are so technologically savvy that they can get here what can we offer them? Brings to mind an old Twilight Zone where the aliens landed and had a big book called "Serving Man". They got all these people to get on a space ship headed to their home planet and then you found out that the book was really a cookbook. Get it, Serving Man? Besides us being intellectually amoebas next to them, why would they pick this place to come to? What, not enough pollution and war on their own planet? Maybe this would be like some primitive amusement park. Besides which can you see them landing and trotting down Fifth Avenue asking, where do I find Maslan Ofman? So lets see how this works out. We have people starving and disease is spreading and governments are collapsing and we don't have money for any of that  but I'd like to see the check Dr Ofman gets on payday.Bet she makes a lot more than a Walmart greeter and they actually have to greet people.

Okay, if some of you do some research  on her and find out more info, let me know and I'll post it. Or better yet, post it in the comments section so we all can enjoy it. You should be able to sleep better tonight knowing that the UN has posted someone on watch so those sneaky aliens can't just glide on in without having to deal with the likes of Maslan...

Happy Birthday Sunman

Yesterday was Sunny's 8th birthday. It sure doesn't seem like 8 years. It seems like just yesterday that he was tearing around destroying everything in his path. Come to think of it, maybe it was yesterday. All kidding aside, it's been a great, but eventful period. I thought I'd entertain you with  my favorite story of Sunny. By the way, I want to give a shout out to my daughter-in-law Karri. She is a fan of this blog and I'm a fan of hers, so Hi Karri!

Oh, I should also tell you that the Sunny vs. pig thing has escalated to a new level. I told you that I say hi to the pig whenever I see her and she has been watching me through the pen and has been giving me the stink eye. She never mumbles a snort but I know a bad look when I see one. Today, Sunny and I went for our walk, or should I say drag. Anyway we are moving along and I'm hollering at Sunny to be "easy" and he is straining at the lead and it's raining hard. Well,I look over and don't see the pig. Pigs are supposed to be fairly smart. So this pig was out of the rain, Of course she could have used a good shower but what the hey. Any way as I look over, this pig comes running out from the porch, that's where her pen is. Now to say a pig is running doesn't quite describe it. She has this big head, very heavy body and short legs and looks like  fat lady in spandex running after an ice cream truck. So she gets up to the fence and start snorting at Sunny. I don't know what she was saying but it didn't sit right with Sunny and he damned near dragged us both in the creek.
This pig now has Sunny's full attention and he is barking at her, a very serious bark and she's snorting at him. I get the feeling that they were playing the dozens. For those of you not skilled in playing the dozens it's a verbal game where one person says a "your mama" and the other tries to top him and it goes on. Like "your mama's so fat when she sits around the house, she sits around the house" and a rebut would be, "your sister's so ugly they got to tie a pork chop around her neck to get the dog to play with her" etc., etc, etc. This thing between them is getting nasty. But as I told Sunny, hang on, she may be in your dinner bowl some day.

Okay, back to happy birthday Sunny. The first time I saw him was at a conformation class. Now don't confuse that with Confirmation. The first teaches a dog and handler how to show in a show ring, the other is when the bishop get to smack you for no good reason. I have stories about that too, but that will have to wait. Anyway there was this handsome little black and white Dalmatian pup with a big black heart shaped nose. I fell in love with him right then. That was also how I met my good friend Julia. She owned Sunny. I bugged her and bugged her until she agreed to let me have him. then the fun began. He was and is a true piece of work. He was into everything, nosiest damn dog you ever seen. His preferred place to sit was on top of a persons head or on the dining room table. That's right, we called him Sunny the hat. he would lay on your head with paws dangling on four corners. Depending on what direction he was facing, the scenery could be less than desirable. He grew from that to laying around your neck like a mink stole, if minks were black and white. He always did like to wear clothes and he still has a visor that is red with cowboy boots on it. He loves that hat. Sunny has had many nicknames and after Sunny the hat, came Sunny the pantyPanty King".

Well, it's late and it's time for all good seniors to be in their beds. It dawned on me recently, that I hadn't told you about the pig's sidekick and some inside lowdown from a reputable source (the pig's owner) about the pig's background. I also haven't discussed Maslan Ofman. Now this has absolutely nothing to do with living out in the boonies but this is someone you should be aware of. Okay til next time......