midwinter, he'd like to know if Molly tilts her head in that ever-so fetching and bewildered way dogs do when she listens to it. He finds the bitches irresistible when they do that. He also says to tell her he'd like to sniff her quaint.
I got to see Bill Irwin (a Bay Area boy) do that piece quite a few years ago- amazing.
A couple of days ago, an old friend of mine asked me if I liked the Decemberists. I replied "How much would you hate me if I told you I saw them 3 years ago in a dive in SLC with about 300 people?"
Doggie emergency at 8 am. By 8.45, I'm pounding through the park with Bob in his bag all still and shivery and clingy (Bob, that is), balling my eyes out because I'm convinced I should have got him to the vet sooner, that the poor little tyke is at death's door and that it's all my fault. Prior to that, he'd been pacing the house, crying and obviously in severe pain but with no outward sign of injury.
Much to my vet's amusement given my state upon arrival, we were soon reassured that it was a bit of doggie back arthritis and after a shot of cortisone he was, while not entirely as right as rain, much improved and is now more or less his old self, if a little stiff.
It was horrible. I hate it that they can't tell you where it hurts.
Molly turned a year old last week, so I took her to the lake. Her first experience "swimming."
Watching her struggle with her obsessive need to fetch versus her fear of the water was pretty funny. She did great, and even swam a little at one point. The interesting thing is that now her attitude toward water is totally changed. Now, on our hikes, she plays in the streams we cross, whereas before, she just ignored them.
Oh goody. No doubt she adheres to the First Rule of Doggy Etiquette. To wit:
Where a human bean is within eye sight of a wet dog, said dog must make every effort to shake themselves as close to said human as caninely possible, such that said human might also enjoy said dog's watery pleasures.
Extra points awarded for muddy paw prints left on articles of light coloured clothing.
Edit: I see Molly has failed to notice the Son of Nessie looming up out of the lake behind her. I assume she didn't become lunch.
Comments
midwinter, he'd like to know if Molly tilts her head in that ever-so fetching and bewildered way dogs do when she listens to it. He finds the bitches irresistible when they do that. He also says to tell her he'd like to sniff her quaint.
Ooops! Wrong species. What he meant was.........Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr!
The Regard of Flight
Beautiful. Fly, Molly, fly!
I got to see Bill Irwin (a Bay Area boy) do that piece quite a few years ago- amazing.
I got to see Bill Irwin (a Bay Area boy) do that piece quite a few years ago- amazing.
A couple of days ago, an old friend of mine asked me if I liked the Decemberists. I replied "How much would you hate me if I told you I saw them 3 years ago in a dive in SLC with about 300 people?"
I now officially hate you.
Much to my vet's amusement given my state upon arrival, we were soon reassured that it was a bit of doggie back arthritis and after a shot of cortisone he was, while not entirely as right as rain, much improved and is now more or less his old self, if a little stiff.
It was horrible. I hate it that they can't tell you where it hurts.
Watching her struggle with her obsessive need to fetch versus her fear of the water was pretty funny. She did great, and even swam a little at one point. The interesting thing is that now her attitude toward water is totally changed. Now, on our hikes, she plays in the streams we cross, whereas before, she just ignored them.
Where a human bean is within eye sight of a wet dog, said dog must make every effort to shake themselves as close to said human as caninely possible, such that said human might also enjoy said dog's watery pleasures.
Extra points awarded for muddy paw prints left on articles of light coloured clothing.
Edit: I see Molly has failed to notice the Son of Nessie looming up out of the lake behind her. I assume she didn't become lunch.