Musings, reflections, wisecracks from a somewhat creative mind

Archive for August, 2011

My Dog’s Profession

Chloe, the Standard Poodle and perfect dog, has a burgeoning career in her future- that of Professional Obstacle. She is terribly good at being in the way. It seems to be an innate talent and one she practices on a daily basis. Therefore I think she could make a lot of money, if we can just tap the right market.

First, a “guest post” from Chloe, as follows:

How I do it

By Chloe Louise Sault

First, let’s understand the assumption. Tripping a human is a good thing. It establishes our “dogness” and it is amusing.

Lying in the middle of the floor of any room is a sure thing. Spreading out – legs, head, tail, and if I am feeling particularly sarcastic, tongue – assures high potential for tripping a human. If a human does not notice me lying there – as my grandmother did not notice a few months back – they will trip and fall. Goal! I mitigate any negative reaction towards me by not moving and looking innocent and cute.

Lying in a doorway is best used when the humans are moving about from room to room and generally being unpredictable. Stationing myself in a doorway has an added benefit as it enables my ability to monitor the human’s activities.

An important caveat for the novice – when the human is attempting to step over you, don’t move. Doing so could risk damage to the face and head when the human’s foot rapidly connects with said body parts. However DO take the risk if you really want the human to fall. You see, as they try to correct their trajectory they lose balance rather easily resulting in “the fall”. Any damage they do to you they will take care of medically and financially. Guilt is usually an outcome as well. Treats often follow guilt.

Preceding the human through the house or yard or sidewalk is good for frustrating the human and CAN result in a fall, but not usually. Mostly it results in the human yelling and cussing and the poodle being pushed, shoved or otherwise rudely moved by the human. It is not necessarily recommended. However it can be satisfying in a rather evil way.

While the human is exercising, place your soggy chin and wet, slimy and cold nose in their hand when they least expect it. It usually results in a chin rub, which is very nice. It may also result in surprising the human who then pulls a muscle, usually in the back, causing temporary pain and yelling and cussing. It is fun to watch and harmless for you.

To sum up: Us dogs can have great fun tormenting and torturing our humans while appearing to be affectionate and innocent. Take advantage. We have so little recompense for our affable selves (no pockets, no thumbs, no cars … need I say more).

Signed: Chloe Louise Sault, P.O.

OK! It's not a poodle. But who cares - it's funny!

Back to Mama

My Chloe lacks imagination. The “hit man” market craves such genius. I think the Cosa Nostra should take notice. Our prices are fair. Please be discreet in your inquiries. We need cash money. Pony up, people.

Quiet and Peace

It’s late Sunday morning and I finally find a moment to dig into the novel that’s been sitting on my coffee table for a week or two. Paradise!

After a while I realize how quiet it is and I stop to appreciate it. What do I hear?

The whir of the fan.

The tick tock of the clock.

The whistling respirations and occasional rustle of my dreaming, napping dog.

The hum of the refrigerator.

The faint birdsong of a Mockingbird.

The squawking of a company of wild parrots.

Distant, faint traffic noise.

The sound of a jet flying 30,000 feet in the air.

*Sigh* Peace.

And I should be able to hear the sound of my washer and dryer working.

*Sigh* Chores.

So much for the quiet. I was glad to have it and it was nice while it lasted.

I loved my Amber-poodle

Letting you all know (because I suspect you’d want to know) – I’ve had to send my darling and brave Amber-girl to heaven. I’ll not distinguish between human and doggie heaven, partly because I’d like to end up in both.
She was a 17 years-old, still gorgeous, still noble … an insolent 12 pound, fluffy and curly-white bundle of dog. I believe she could have tamed lions, given the chance. In the 70’s, Helen Reddy would’ve been proud. Amber was a true feminist.
Aging: Most of us will end up in a place with which we are not familiar. That place is indistinct, confusing, frustrating, frightening … because we are unable to recognize it and process it due to our failing vision and hearing, thought processes, ability to move comfortably, and probably more that I can’t know at my tender age.
I finally realized Amber was THERE. Standing, swaying, and staring at the wall without a purpose is not dignified. Amber was, if anything, dignified – and defiant – during her life. The Vet agreed. We wanted to give her a Viking funeral.
We gave her what we could – a shot in the “arm” and a loving farewell.
Amber will remain a legend in my memory. She was … a true Princess.

HRH Princess Amber

Have Can Opener, Will Travel

Recently, I stopped at a pet supply store to pick up canned dog food. The store has diagonal parking in front. I parked reasonably well – not perfectly but reasonably.

When I came out of the store, there was a BIG HONKING pickup truck parked close to my car.

Now, when I say close to my car, I mean close enough that a circus contortionist would have a hard time moving in between the vehicles … Or a moderately-aged, healthy woman.

So CLOSE a-supermodel-couldn’t-use-chopsticks CLOSE.

Ants-would-lose-the-pheromone-trail CLOSE.

A vigorous-weed-would-alter-its-path CLOSE.

Thwart-a-laser-beam CLOSE.

I’m talking CLOSE.

OK. Maybe I’m exaggerating.

But it was CLOSE.

So here I am juggling 3 loose cans of dog food, my wallet and my keys (I like to go “purseless” a.k.a commando) – doggedly trying to enter my car. (No pun intended.)

For the uninitiated: My car is a 2-door. This means the doors are long because – theoretically anyway – they have to allow access to the seating in the back. A Mustang is technically a 4-seater although reports from the back seat vary as to the comfort of the ride.

So I’m wiggling (and swearing) my way into the drivers seat when I drop a can of dog food … and I know it will roll … somewhere. To where? Probably under my car. I’m am pretty sure retrieving it will cause a certain physical discomfort and … shame. And then there’s the hot tar of the parking lot. I’m probably going to have to drive over the can, losing my $1.36 investment. Possibly hurting my car.  Definitely losing my pride. *sigh* What to do?

I heroically throw the other articles into the passenger seat and wiggle back out of the car … while trying NOT to let my car door hit the &%#@*& truck (what a wuss) … and look for the wayward can. I spot the can. It’s easily retrievable! THANK YOU!!

I get in my car, start it and put the A/C on high, and then I think “I’d like to give that guy a piece of my mind!!”

Pause. Pause.

Hmmmmm. OK. He’s taller than me. Hmmmm. OK. He’s a “he”. Hmmmmm. He looked pretty darned serious in the store. Hmmmmm. I don’t think I can take him.

FOILED AGAIN!

So I drive away. But, as I drive I think “If I’d known you were going to park here, I’d have brought my can opener!!!!!”

I’m just sayin’.