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The Many Sploots of Murphy McGee
The world is kicking my ass this month. I know there is a lot of that going around, and I’m feeling powerless to help anyone or improve life in general. So… Here are some cute pictures of a puppy. I learned the word “sploot” recently from some fellow dog lovers. It’s a stretch that some dogs do that looks like a spread eagle splat on the floor. I’d never seen it before we got Murphy but apparently it’s really common with corgis. It’s so delightful that I find myself taking the same photo of my dog over and over again. Now that we have learned the term, we have started…
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Are All Y’all Okay?
I am obsessed with dogs. I don’t think that’s new information. But I have developed one dog obsessed habit over the years that I haven’t really talked about, which is this: if I see someone walking their dog, I have to turn my head and see the dog, and it has something to do with seeing what kinds of people choose what kinds of dogs. I find that most people are well matched to their dogs, but the more mismatched they are, the more it delights me. Exempli gratia: the biggest gruffest man in the world walking a dog so tiny, white, and puffy that it looks like the puff…
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Improvising
If everything had gone according to plan, I would be in southern Utah tonight with all my boys, celebrating Wensley’ fifteenth birthday. But Wensley’s kidneys gave out in February. I kept the trip on the books because I’ve been so sad without him and I thought it would be good to get away. Then last week I experienced both my first pandemic and my first earthquake. It was like a biathlon of terror. After Wensley died, I had been saying that maybe we would get another dog for Christmas, after a good long grieving break. Then school was canceled and Matt, Ethan, and I have been stuck at home getting…
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Animal Encounters
Wensleydale has had a rough time this winter. His arthritis is acting up. He had some teeth pulled. And once the snow came he started peeing in a corner of the kitchen rather than asking to go out in the cold. He’ll be 16 years old in March, which for Yorkshire terriers (the internet tells me), is the equivalent of 80 human years. The site only went up to 17 which made my heart stutter. I had to google “oldest Yorkie” to get some sense of what I could hope for. I found this article about a 26 year old Yorkie who died in a dog attack, which was helpful…
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He is Pretty Orange
Wensleydale got a shot at the vet this morning. When I brought him home I tried to make him a special treat by combining his two favorite things: peanut butter and carrots. Only something weird happened. Maybe I’m just watching too much political coverage these days, but do you see what I see? I swear, I cannot get away from that man! Wensleydale did not notice. He is now napping with his lobster, Pinchy. Meanwhile, the carrot is currently being impeached in Wensley’s stomach. He will convict sometime tomorrow.
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Shabby Chic
Wensley had to get a haircut last week. I try to avoid cutting his hair in January and February because it is so dang cold, and he doesn’t deal well with the snow. It couldn’t wait, however. He was getting a bit of a Rastafarian situation on his back end, and it was time. I brought him home from the groomer and dug through the winter accessories to dig out his sweater. I knitted this for him a few years ago. (There is no pattern to share; I just knitted a rectangle and fashioned it around his body and then sewed it up.) Unfortunately, when I pulled it over his…
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Deck the Howls
This is how I decorate for Halloween: This is how my neighbors decorate: To be honest, they are in a different neighborhood but I couldn’t think of a word for someone else that lives in your city but not on your block. Citymate? Neighboring-neighbor? I dunno. But I think of them as the owners of the Halloween House and I have to go by to see what they have come up with every year. (I’ve blogged about them a time or two before.) I think this is my favorite so far; they have really outdone themselves. One of these days I need to stop when someone is in the yard.…
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Mammalian Chameleon
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The Introvert at the Party; an exploration in Haiku
Introverted girl at a social gathering trying not to cling Releasing Matt’s arm I take a deep breath and wander deeper in the house Determined to learn from the mistakes of my past: don’t drink all the wine! What is the most time I can hide in the toilet before eyebrows raise? Do I look social crossing the room with purpose looking for “someone”? Hovering over the table of finger foods not sure what to do It’s called ‘finger food’ but do I use a napkin? What’s the proper way? And then what happens? If I put it in my mouth I will get a question From someone or other.…
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The Perils of Being a Knitter’s Dog
Especially the kind who reaches for their camera before saving you…