Wordless Wednesday

Beat This Caption

If you scooch over we can make room for one more

Monday Question

How many time a day do you need to go out to use the peeing and pooing area?

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River Song:  Morning, second morning, afternoon, before supper, after supper, before snack, before bed (7)

Pocket:  Morning, second morning, after breakfast, before noon, early afternoon, mid afternoon, late afternoon, before supper, after supper, before treat, after treat, before bed one, before bed two, random time during the day  (14)

Ice Wind is our April 30, 2017 Pup of the Week

Pintus and Rain loved one another as siblings for many years, and they arrived at the Bridge within a year of one another.  This left their mother Miss Marisela and their brother Junior with only one another to comfort each other.

They knew their mom and Junior needed another dog but, like all angels, they had to convince their moms that she was ready, and then they had to find the right dog, and make sure the new dog would get along with Junior.  It was a monumental task.  But there is never a task too hard for motivated angels.

Pintus and Rain devoted two hours a day to interview dogs, but they could never come across the right one.  They were both very worried.

Then they met a beautiful black and white terrier.  They knew that he would be perfect for their mom.  Now they needed to convince their mom to go to the adoption event where this little boy was waiting.

They asked Junior to convince her to go.  “If I could convince her to go anywhere she wouldn’t visit anywhere but PetSmart and the dog park.”  Pintus and Rain knew they had to get into their mom’s dreams and convince her to go.

It took some convincing, but on the morning of the adopting event, Miss Marisela had her angel’s voice in her head telling her to go to the event.  She had no intention of adopting another dog.  Pintus then went to the dog and made sure he knew what Miss Marisela looked like and to act especially cute when she saw him.

The pup followed directions perfectly, and when Miss Marisela saw him, she knew he was meant to be part of her pack.  Anyone who talks to Miss Marisela for five minutes knows she is a perfect pet parent, so she was quickly approved to take this pup home.

Rain was very proud when Miss Marisela named her new seven-month-old pup Ice Wind.  He said it was in honor of him, from Rain to Ice and Wind.  Pintus told me he believed the name had nothing to do with his brother.  You know how siblings fight.

But they are also happy that their mom has a new baby to snuggle with, and their brother has someone to play with.  Their missions were complete.

And now we can follow the adventures of Ice Wind.  Long may he run.

Tails From Rainbow Bridge: The Summer of Jake

On Sunday I wrote about the little pup who lived with mommy for a few days and inspired her to be the great dog mom she is today.   Within three years of meeting that little dog, mommy, who was now married to daddy, got her Shih Tzu Blake, and a few years later me.  But that skips over the Summer of Jake.

Mommy has three children.  Child number two, at 18, got married and moved to South Dakota with her husband, who was beginning a short stint in the Air Force.  While they were living at Edward’s Air Force Base, they adopted a Lab mix named Jake.

One summer second daughter’s husband got assigned to a base in Saudi Arabia.  This was pre 9/11 so, while his service was greatly appreciated, his work with the ground crew was not life threatening.  But second daughter was distressed.  She needed to come home to mom, and she needed to bring Jake.

Mommy did not want a big, shedding dog, who spent most of his time outside, in her house making everything dirty.  She suggested that the dog could stay at mommy’s ex-husband’s, who was living in their family home, with the big yard, another sacrifice mom made for her children during the divorce. But second daughter was insistent.  She needed her dog while her husband was in a “WAR ZONE.”

At this time mommy had a cat, Gizmo, a Siamese with a nasty disposition.  Gizmo had two joys in her life.  One was napping.  The second was hiding behind furniture, waiting for someone to pass, then jumping out and biting them.  Mommy knew a big hairy dog would only make Gizmo worse.

But there was no dissuading second daughter.  Before Jake arrived, Daddy bought a chain and put in the back yard.  At 3:30 in the morning, two hours before my parents had to get up for work, second daughter and Jake arrived.  Daddy held Jake while second daughter moved her possessions into the downstairs bedroom.  He then showed her where Jake’s outside area was located.  Second daughter was displeased.  She did not want to have to go outside to leash Jake and moved the chain closer to the door.

Gizmo came down the stairs.  Daddy picked Gizmo up and showed her Jake. Gizmo screamed, scratched Daddy’s arm, and ran upstairs.

Things had started swimmingly.

Mommy and daddy kept Gizmo in the bedroom at night while they didn’t sleep.  The didn’t sleep because Gizmo spent the whole night jumping from the bed to a bureau, to a chair, and back again, often walking across heads.  He might settle for a minute, but any sound was a signal that Jake was on the move and Gizmo panicked.  

During the day Jake was outside.  A distrusting Gizmo found somewhere to hide, often in the bathroom closet.  The three children were told to keep the closet door shut, which was as effective as shouting moving directions to a rock.  Gizmo would get trapped in the closet during the rare moments when someone closed the door, and when the door was opened hours later, Gizmo came flying all of the closet, a combination of claws, whiskers, teeth and attitude, scaring the poor towel seeker.

Jake spent most of the day lying in the dirt.  Daddy tried to take him for walks, but he was aggressive towards people and dogs.  When second daughter came home, Jake would sit in the kitchen while second daughter ate.  Then they would retire to second daughter’s room, which Jake could not have made messier if he had explosive diarrhea.  No one can match a 20-year-old millennial for messy.  Occasionally Jake got loose, and he gnawed the wooden window sills, ate shoes, and in one memorable day, made oldest daughter yell “He raked my boob!”  Jake was a boob raker all right.

Second daughter’s concern about her husband in a war zone lessened as she renewed high school friendships.  Her husband’s money was being sent to her.  One day he called her and asked for more money.  She told him no, he didn’t need any money, who needs money in the middle of the desert?   Her compassion for Jake was equally limited as she stayed out late and one of my parents would have to bring the lonely dog inside and, much to Gizmo’s dismay, let him lie on the floor while they watched TV.

After a long three-month deployment second daughter moved back, with Jake, to South Dakota.  The summer of Jake was the high point to many of the souls involved.  Second daughter and her husband had a beautiful baby.  They moved back home when his tour was over.  After the baby was born Jake, and a second dog they acquired, Casey, lived in the basement for a couple of months until they were surrendered to animal control.  Casey was adopted, but Jake was determined to be too aggressive.  I knew he wasn’t aggressive, he just had a broken heart.  Shortly after that second daughter left her husband for a second husband.

As for Gizmo, he was there when Blake joined the family, and when they moved to their condo.  After Jake Gizmo became more withdrawn and mean.  He also began eating plastic bags.  Son number one was living with them, and he still hadn’t learned how to shut doors.  While the family worked hard at keeping plastic away from Gizmo son number one forgot to shut his bedroom door, Gizmo went in his room and ate an entire plastic trash bag.  That night Gizmo went to the Bridge.

A week later my parents drove the Northern Central Massachusetts and brought home a little Yorkie named Foley and the rest is history.

So not only do I owe the little dog mommy found in her driveway but I also owe Jake.  I see him at Rainbow Bridge, and he asks how my mom is.  Hopefully, he forgot how second daughter broke his heart.  Hopefully, someday, in the distant future, mommy will find out if it works for her.

River Song and the troublesome lawn mower

All winter I could not wait to get outside and begin supervising my parent's landscaping.  Winter is cold and dark. We remember the warm, sun-filled days fondly.  While I sat, hogging mom’s lap, as the snow snapped against the windows and cold air seeped through crevices all I recalled our Monday garden days and the beautiful flowers.

When the perennials burst from the soil summoning the warmer air, I was thrilled.  The first time our pink stroller was unfolded, Pocket and I were lifted, then placed inside, and safely zippered in, I settled down awaiting the scent of lovely flowers to waft past my nose and the beautiful butterflies to flutter down on our soft enclosure.

I had forgotten what preceded all of that.  Before Romeo and Juliet was first performed men long forgotten built the sets with no fanfare.  Before the many flowers that will fill out six gardens can be planted my parents have to do the hard work of preparation.

The lawn is as important as the garden.  It needs to be thick, green, and evenly cut.  The last time Daddy cut the grass in the fall the pull cord on the mower did not recoil.  Like all men, Daddy thought the best recourse was to put the mower in the shed and hope it got better over the winter.

It didn’t.  At some point during the fall Daddy removed the coiler from the mower.  It had been held in place by three screws.  In the spring the screws were missing. 

 According to Daddy a homeless vagrant must have broken in the shed and stolen the three screws, and nothing else.  According to mom’s divorce attorney, any action she took would not be worth the payoff.

The grass needed to be cut.  It is where Pocket and I do our business.  When it is wet with early morning dew half our small bodies became soaked.  Every time Daddy pulled the rope the coiler came off.  He put his left foot on the coiler to hold it down, grabbed hold of the bar on the handle to engage the starter, bent over, grabbed the pull rope with his left hand and pulled it with all his might.  The mower started just as his left hand crushed his groin causing him to let go of the starter bar and the engine to sputter and stop.

Non-Lutheran verbiage ensued.  Once recovered he switched hands, so he was pulling the cord away from him like he was awkwardly bowling.

After three attempts the mower roared to life, and the lawn was cut quickly.  If the motor stopped chances of getting the motor restarted were slim.

There were also weeds to be whacked.  Daddy had bought a new electric whacker.  Some of our flowers beds, bushes, and trees, are ringed by bricks, and next to the bricks are white stones.   It is very pretty.  When Daddy put his powerful whacker near the stones they were fired across the lawn like Kim Jong Il launching a military strike after a gall stone attack.  Luckily our stroller her up under the onslaught.

Another day without any pretty flowers but the good news is that we survived.  Please arrive beautiful flowers:  You seem to bring peace to the yard.

Wordless Wednesday