Phoebe

Phoebe belongs to  our youngest grandson Adam.   But then again who really owns a cat. 

Phoebe is vocal...sometimes she sounds downright sad.   If something isn't to her liking she whines.

They lock her in a series of three rooms for the night...craft room, laundry room and bathroom...because otherwise she caterwauls at 4 AM. 

When you open the door in the morning...she is out of there like she has been shot from a cannon!  I know this from first hand experience. 

She is a beauty!  A Calico beauty.  Adam rescued her from the animal shelter.

Far Side

Wistful Wednesday : The girls and dogs

This is most likely 1991 or 1992.  About 26-27 years ago.

 

Jen and Trica posing on a snowy day with our three Sheltand Sheepdogs/Shelties.  This was taken at  our resort out back by a spruce tree.  Trica would have been going to college at Moorhead State University and Jen was most likely in 9th or 10th grade.  Those teenage years would not be real high on my list of years to repeat.

Trica on the right is holding onto Misty and Moses…they are the Mother and Father of G’Day Mate who Jen is holding. Misty was really well behaved, she had been to Dog Obedience and Moses had been to puppy classes…and Mate well she had a mind of her own and a real stubborn streak.   She was really Far Guy’s dog…I gave her to him…so I wouldn’t have to sell her.  There were four puppies in that litter, when the puppies were little we would get them out on a blanket in the living room and watch what we called puppy tv.  Those were fun evenings….when we were all home safe and sound being entertained by puppies.

Wistful Wednesday: Home On leave

June of 1973, we were home on leave in Minnesota.  We had been at Lowry AFB in Denver Colorado and were headed for MacDill AFB in Tampa Florida.

Trica was 14 months old then and we had a little Scottie mix mutt of a dog named Snuffer who would live a good long time.  We traveled light.  Everything we had fit in the back of a pickup truck.

 

My baby brother was home then, he was honorably discharged from the Navy due to a knee injury.

Being home was bitter sweet, we didn’t know when we would be back or when we would see loved ones or relatives again but we were excited to see a different part of the United States.  Florida is a long way from Minnesota.  Far Guy orignally had orders for Bitburg Germany. (He had requested Grand Forks ND, Minot ND and Mountain Home ID) We were upset with the orders for Germany…I wouldn’t be able to go for a long time because we would have to save up for my plane ticket and Tricas and our dog Snuffer would have to be quarantined for six months either that or stay with Far Guy’s parents.  One of the single guys offered to trade his spot at MacDill and Far Guy took the trade…the next day we could have had Mountain Home and $100…but a trade is a trade.

Military life had a fair amount of twists and turns.

Thank you to the Veteran’s in my life.  My husband, my father, my baby brother, my nephew, my uncles and many of my cousins.

Wistful Wednesday : Muggy

Dogs, each and everyone has captured our hearts.  All have been one of a kind.

Muggy came after Tiny in Far Guys family.

Here he is dressed in a sweater sitting next to the most coveted spot in the house.  That heat register was a spot where my sister in law camped out and also my children.  They would grab their blankets and hog all the heat coming out of that register.  I am not sure who bought this sweater for Muggy but it hung on the back porch for a long time after he died.

He had a good long life, what could be better than for a dog to keep you company and on your toes for many years and then succumb to old age.

The last time I saw Muggy I scratched his ears…his mind was gone and his body was failing and it was time to say goodbye.  I think my father in law sat by the cardboard box lined with blankets and towels that was Muggy’s home for days before the end came.

How do you sum up the good life of a dog?

You remember…

Far Guy remembers how Muggy slept next to him with his head across his neck.

He was Far Guys Dad’s dog and was very protective of him…if you walked by and slapped him on the knee the dog would go ballistic.

The time he pooped on my foot during a very formal dinner.

How he loved to bare his teeth and growl at me and chase me from chair to chair yapping his head off.

The story about Ray coming to the door and making the mistake of opening the door to the kitchen…Muggy lept as far as he could and hung on.

Muggy was sent to the basement the day we got married because the house was full of company.  He ripped out a toe nail and bled all over the basement..everyone was late getting to the church.

He was happy being tied out to the clothesline where he could run back and forth and bark.

He always wore a harness.  He was a tad gassy and could clear a room, and also became the scape goat for anyone else with a little gas…blame it on the dog.

No, he could not jump up on a chair by himself…someone who shall remain nameless helped him.

Muggy was a Chihuahua, very spoiled, much loved and much missed after he was gone.

Chance: Where are we?

My turn..my turn..my turn to blog. 

One morning we packed up the car and took off.  We had enough food for me to survive for ten days…and I took two balls and two leashes…and a water dish..and bottles of water…and a few Milk Bones and various other treats. I was not going to starve to death.

I got brushed real good before getting into the car.

Motel’s that have elevators are scary.  I hit the deck..and shivered and shook until it stopped moving…I now have a fear of little rooms with only one door. 

We stopped at Sue, Joe, Big Jake and Buddy's place …Big Jake growled at me and Buddy barked. Sue and Joe were happy to see me!

Then we drove and drove..until dark.

The next morning I woke up Far Side really early…

It was foggy..I could hardly see a thing.  Far Side wandered around in her jammies in the fog.

It was warm..well warmer than Minnesota.

Some trees still had leaves..and the grass was still green.  When the fog lifted I saw the lake. Yes, I went in for a dip.

Who lives here?

Meet Ernie..or Ern..or Ernest..he has lots of names.  He is just a little thing..I inadvertently sat on him one day..poooor Ernie.  Over the years most of his teeth went missing..he has about four left..he can only be fed small bits of food.  He has a bum leg..but he ran around pretty good while I was there.  He ran around with me in the yard..he led Far Guy through all the neighbor yards early one morning..poor old Ernie probably forgot where he lived.

Far Guy’s sister lives with Ernie..she likes me too:)

Wistful Wednesday: Muggy

Muggy was a Chihuahua.  He belonged to Far Guy and his family. He was mainly Far Guys Dads dog..he loved having a dog.  Far Guys Mom loved him too, but the dog would fart, he was on canned food..and that made him gaseous. Far Guys Mom would holler.. “Would someone please put the dog out?” ..Out he went,  he was tied to the clothes line much like Far Guy was when he was little.  The dog was much better at running back and forth, but the dog never learned to unhook himself and run through the neighborhood and then hook himself back up again.

History was made by this little packed full of energy and much loved Dog named Muggy.

Muggy pooped right on my foot the first time I was a guest at dinner. Far Guys Mom was so embarrassed.  Far Guys Dad apologized “I don’t know what got into that damn dog.”

Muggy would snarl and yap at me and chase me from one chair to the next in the living room. He was the only dog I have ever been a little afraid of..but then Far Guy would “sic” him on me and just laugh.

Muggy tried to delay our Wedding by pulling out one of his toenails on the basement stairs.  He had been sent to the basement because there was lots of out of town company..and Far Guys Mom didn’t want a farting dog in the living room with all the company.  I am sure she didn’t want any of the guests maimed either..one day Ray L came to the door..he knocked and went right in..and Muggy started barking and took a flying leap right toward Rays crotch and hung there growling. Again Far Guys Mom was embarrassed.

Here is one of my favorite photos of the little darling..

Far Guys Mom was not in the kitchen..she wouldn’t allow the dog to get his germs all over the plate..or to sit at the table.

He does look like he is enjoying himself. Over the years he did learn to love me..Muggy lived a good long life.

I love looking at the “old kitchen”  the white cupboards would be replaced by oak cabinets..and the old white stove would be replaced by an avocado green one.  The copper colored canister set would go upstairs..and a set of lovely avocado green stackable ones would take up residence on the countertop.

This photo was taken in about 1966 or 1967 someone with one of those fancy instant cameras took this photo, their thumb print is off to the left:)

The King

We have been Grandsitting up north. The boys are in school during the day..so the animals entertain us. 
Little Elvis is the "King"..he is about 5 months old now.  He is terribly spoiled.  Far Guy calls him a terrorist dog..no one is safe from his advances.  He is fearless.  He is a tri color Shetland Sheepdog.

He is king of the couch.

 He is king of the coffee table.

He keeps up with the pack during a game of ball.  He is easily distracted by the wagging tails..and often grabs them.  He also nips at heels and back legs.  Miney responds by growling at him, yesterday she head butted him..you would have thought she was going to kill him..by the high pitch squeal that escaped from the little devil.  Chance also growls and makes throaty noises ..subtile communications continue..the three of them make quite a pack.

Chance always yields during ball play..he is a gentleman.  He is running and playing much better than he was last week..I don't know if it is the added stimulation of Miney and Little Elvis, but he seems to be feeling better..thank you for all your comments and concerns, he has lots of friends out there!  He would play ball with Y'all anytime! :)