A New Year's Eve Tale

So Darryl, Deb's boyfriend, has a granddaughter. She is a lovely little girl. And he has a new photo of her in the house. It is a head shot ... and it is a life-size head shot. It's wonderful, and really brings out the essence of Winnie. It's beautiful, and it makes you feel like she's right there in the room.

Well, apparently it was just too life-like for Homer and Fred. Fred, Homer and Atticus joined Dana and me at Dutch (that's Darryl's nickname) and Deb's place for New Year's Eve. Good food, good drink, good fun all around. However, we were sitting in the living room having some appetizers and champagne when we noticed Homer was just standing behind the sofa. When we looked closer, it turned out he wasn't just standing behind the sofa for no good reason. His head was pointed up, his huge brown eyes locked on that photo of Winnie. He stared and stared and stared at that picture. Man, it was so cute. He seemed completely convinced that she was going to greet him, so he just stood there, waiting anxiously. Homer is very in tune with his behavior around little kids (translation: he is much calmer than he is when meeting adults, intuitively understanding that he must be accomodating to their smaller and sometimes delicate nature), so I believe he was just being a good little boy and waiting for her to come make the first move. It was just a wonderful moment.

Later, I think it was after dinner and once we'd gotten into the game playing part of the evening (Dutch was on quite a roll with Quiddler last night ... harumph), we stopped to enjoy a performance by Fred. He was standing on the back of the sofa. He'd finally gotten a look at that life-sized photo of Winnie ... and had a low grade growl going, heading into something a bit more menacing. Keep in mind that he would never have hurt Winnie if she were really there. I think he just didn't like that she was standing outside the window, staring back at him like that! So funny.

The final act of the evening belonged to Atticus, who didn't seem bothered by Winnie; I'm not sure he even noticed her. But he did step toward the sliding glass door after it had gotten dark. We don't have anything like that at home, nothing to allow him to see his reflection. But see his reflection he did. He started barking like a crazy man intent on protecting his brothers and his human peeps, too. He would probably be pleased to know that mommy thought him to be a very brave and impressive boy, even when it was obvious he was just being a silly git. Homer caught his own image in the 'mirror', but he just seemed happy to spot such a handsome man out the door!

Happy New Year!

Pictures don't lie

It was a generally crappy summer (and autumn, so far), weather-wise, and health-wise for that matter, yet I still managed to capture some really lovely photos that seem intent on discounting my opinion on the former. Enjoy.

Approaching sunset in Boothbay Harbor, Maine, Fourth of July weekend:


Fred induling in a snack on the trail at Acadia National Park in Maine over the Fourth of July weekend:


By later in July, the new guy was learning to make himself at home. Atticus, who I nearly hit with my car in May, now comfortably ensconced in the canine crew in Willsboro:


Homer found a warm spot on a cool day early in the growing season:


Jewels for the garden. Thank you, Pat!


Ridiculously cute. On the bench are Choli and Mike, Deb and Darryl's dogs. On the ground, Fred, Atticus and Homer, in the garden:


Despite the wet summer, the tomato plants did pretty well:


A bee on one of many beautiful zinnias at the Franklin Delano Roosevelt historic site in Hyde Park, NY:


You've noticed some sunshine in these pictures, but usually with the sun - and all that wet - came mosquitos. The boys had to soak up the sun where they could:


The old homestead is right pretty in the summer. My yard is amazingly park-like:


In vino veritas. Fred got so sick of the mosquitos that he took to surfing the net and, ultimately, acquiring a taste for a good dry riesling:


These fellas sure know how to put a smile on mommy's face, despite all that crap weather:

Can Dogs Be Too Cute and Too Funny?

I wonder. I recognize that I come across as a crazy dog lady sometimes, but the moments of sheer joy I get from my dogs are so breathtaking to me. I am overwhelmed with happiness when I watch them interact. Frankly, they don't even have to do that. They can just be like Miller, sixteen and a half years old and still willingly and adorably wanting to run and play with the two year old and the five year old. He's not really interacting with Fred and Homer much, because they kind of leave him in the dust, which he doesn't seem to mind in the least. He seems perfectly happy to still be enjoying the party. So cute.

Today was a great day of dog time for me during my lunch break. I drive 35 minutes home to walk the dogs, feed Miller some lunch, and then spend a little time with them before heading back to the office )35 more minutes on the road, today with wet snow all the way) for our afternoon session. Fred and Homer ended up sitting together on the loveseat in front of the Christmas tree. They were adorable, so I quickly grabbed the camera, and of course, the moment I point it towards them, Homer jumps down. I put the camera down, encouraged Homer back up, and then grabbed the camera again. As I approached the sofa, Homer decided to join me and leaped from the loveseat, right across in front of Fred, and onto the sofa. Oy. I urged him back next to Fred. He seemed content to stay there for the moment, but this is when the Puppy ADD really kicked in: first he looked left, then he grabbed his little green rubber froggy toy, then while he was down that way, he licked his privates, and then scratched his head. He looked out the window. And finally he gazed in the same direction as Fred - sort of - which was the look I was going for. It was at this point that I finally really looked at Fred for the first time in a few minutes. His eyes were becoming slits, and he was leaning against his brother Homer, starting to fall asleep:

I mean, seriously, how freaking cute is that? I think it's SO cute.

The other photos from today's Too Cute to be Believed Photo Shoot:

And this, the close-up that was worth all the trouble:

Am I wrong about the cute?

I Love the Christmas Season

I am not religious and therefore I do not celebrate the season in the way Christians might like. I like the feeling of the season, the thought that we could possibly all get along, even love one another, as the good people that we should all want to be, and try to be. I like the lights and the Christmas music and the holiday concerts. And the holiday parties. I like dressing the boys up in their red and green scarves. And I am loving catching pictures of the boys in front of the tree. I haven't been able to get a good shot of Miller yet in front of the tree, but the little boys make it easy, since they like the back of the loveseat and it sits just in front of the tree.

Merry Christmas, or Happy whatever other holiday you celebrate this time of year.

Homerville

Life is good in Homerville.


Homer was known as Gomer at the shelter. Changing his name was the right thing to do; everybody loves the name and it absolutely suits him. He was actually becoming quite famous up here as the nice dog that wasn't getting adopted. When Dana and I returned from our Charleston trip, we found a sweet little female Beagle mix at North Country SPCA, but then we stopped at Elmore SPCA and met Homer in person.

What a charmer he was. He is about one to one and a half years old and was housebroken within a day or two, which means that he had been previously housebroken. It was my good fortune to find another great dog at a shelter, but it could be your good fortune the next time you are looking for a pet. I have never purchased a dog and I never will. The fees at the shelters, SPCAs and rescues can get high, but there is a high cost to caring for the unwanted pets that people give up. And they are giving up more and more of them in these tough economic times. The amount that I get back in companionship, enjoyment of my dogs' funny and crazy antics, and the unconditional love will make me sacrifice whatever I have to in order to keep dogs in my life.



The thing that you get from a rescued dog is the sense that they know how lucky they are. I know it might not look like it when they are sitting there howling like a Beagle, or barking like the PIT that Bailey is (PIT is our code for Pain in the Tookus... no, Bailey is not a Pit Bull, but more on that in a second). But when Homer plays with so much gusto with his toys, or zooms around the back yard with his brother Fred, or tries to coax Bailey into playing with him (no success there just yet), or walks up to Miller and convinces the 16+ year old dog to play with him - for a short period of time because Mommy decides that Homer is playing too rough for the old boy - it's during these times when you really can see how lucky he knows that he is. Or when he dives ahead of his brothers to get the choice spot on the bed at bedtime.






Dana and I tried to adopt a Pit Bull once. The Animal Welfare Shelter in Voorhees, New Jersey is a place from which I have adopted a number of my guys over the years. What we found was that if the Pit Bull was over a certain age, and that age wasn't much beyond six months or so, that the damage that had already been done to these poor dogs from the bad situations they had been rescued from made them unfit dogs for having in a household with more than one dog. We found some wonderful, sweet animals; the shelter was doing a great job spending time with and acclimating them to being with people. But they all had that aggression thing that just broke my heart. I knew I could not adopt these dogs since I will always have several dogs at any given time. The thought of what these incredibly strong dogs could do to Fred, or Boo back then...

I couldn't do it. These Bull and Staffordshire Terriers are wonderful dogs. If I were to ever buy a dog I could see buying one of these. I have kissed these dogs, and they have returned the affection. It is so sad the image that they have in society because of the training, and sometimes miserably bad breeding, that has gone on.

So, I have Homer now, comfortably ensconced in my canine brood, and comfortably ensconced on what used to be just Fred's bed. But Fred and Homer are sharing nicely these days. It's just one more satisfying accomplishment in my world of dogs.

And don't anyone try to tell me that this dog doesn't look grateful for where he's landed:

Dogs in the Garden

While spending some time outside with the boys this weekend, I got these fun shots of them. They are just the most fun dogs to spend time with. I just had to share. Enjoy!

Such Sweet Dogs

I'm sitting here in front of the fan, trying to stay cool in this silly heat and Homer walks over to where Bailey's resting in one of the big dog beds. He steps up on the bed, walks in a circle, and lays down right next to Bailey. How sweet. It's so adorable how Homer wants to be everybody's friend. Fred has finally warmed to him and is playing regularly with the new boy. Homer's still clumsy and learning how far he can go with each of the guys, but things are settling in nicely. Homer has since left the bed and is laying in a ball on the ottoman in front of me while I type. I can see Miller on the floor in front of one of the fans, Fred is napping on one of the smaller dog beds, and Bailey hasn't moved from his spot where Homer was napping with him before. These guys bring such joy to my life, even in moments like this when all they're doing is sleeping. They are nice dogs. I can't get over how good I've gotten at picking them from the shelter. Or maybe it's just luck. I'll take that kind of luck any day. And no, Bailey hasn't miraculously become a good boy, but he is awfully sweet, which makes up for his many faults.

Snow!

I know that so much of the country finds the snow irksome, to say the least. I was just saying the other day how happy I am with my first winter in upstate New York. I guess a big part of why I like it so much is that I'm not working right now. I get to enjoy all the good things about the snow. First and foremost: Fred is riotously funny when he really gets going out in the back yard. I've shoveled paths throughout the back yard because the first snow we had was pretty substantial and I couldn't imagine how the dogs were going to get anywhere in it. I was especially concerned for Miller, as he is 15 1/2 and not as steady on his feet sometimes as the other boys. But Fred LOVES the paths and he zooms up and down and across the yard and it's so fun to watch. And sometimes he decides he wants to bounce through the high snow, and that's fun to watch, too.

The second thing is that it's just so damned pretty. I'm surrounded by trees in my wonderful yard and we have had small snowfalls in amongst the big storms and there is always new snowfall that just cleans everything up. Very beautiful. I have had no issues keeping up with the shoveling, no thanks to Dana. Dana has definitely not done her part in the shoveling department. And I've got a guy here who comes to plow the driveway and the car area for $25 a shot. That is a bargain, especially compared to what it cost me to get my small driveway plowed in Glassboro. So far this winter I've only had to pay $75 for plowing. In New Jersey, for ONE plowing of my driveway, I paid $175.

So, my day today will be a little reading and a little writing, watching the snow fall and watching the dogs play. And shoveling. And cooking beef stew. It should be a nice day.