Today I got nico off to school with the neighbor who takes turns with me taking and bringing the kids to school and home. I swept the front and back yard and got a load of laundry in the machine. 

Then I got all my things together to go to the swimming exercise class at the "Y."  As I went through the house closing windows and locking up, Max vigilantly clip, clopped behind me. Slowly he lagged further behind as he realized I was going to be leaving the house. I hate, hate, hate leaving him at home. And you know what? I hate leaving the house too! As I closed the sliding door I thought to myself, why am I going when I want to stay. 

So I started opening all the windows again, pulled open the sliding door, dumped all my bag out and put my purse away and patted Max who was now realizing that I was staying home. I started to clean the house. 

I was actually happier cleaning the house then going to the pool. Well of course I was going to the pool to excercise not to swim. But I told myself I will do the 2 mile walk with Max tonight to make up for it. Well that's what I told myself and since Max doesn't understand what I'm talking about he won't be able to hold it against me. 

So as I cleaned I made a list of things I needed to do. I've almost finished that list and when Nico comes home we will go to get me some glasses so I can say I've accomplished all that I WANTED to do today. Now to go and read a book. Wow life is grand. 

Max Eyes The Gate

Max ran away.

It was a lazy day for me and it seemed the less I did the less I wanted to do. I looked at Max as I sat back on the overstuffed lazy boy with my feet up in the air. He was sitting right beside it and I was patting his head. 

I pulled back his bangs from the top of his rag mop head and looked into his huge teddy bear eyes. Before I knew it he leaped off the floor and was on my lap. 

“Take it easy Max, there’s not room for both of us in this chair” I said to him as his toenails dug into my thighs. But for him, there was more then enough room as he sat with his head totally blocking my line of vision. 

I brushed him off of me and got up out of the chair and headed out the door. “Come on Max I’ll comb your hair.” I didn’t want a repeat of the snarls and tangles that had overtaken his fur the week I had not been home. 

I sat on the chair outside and began to slowly comb his head, ears, back and down his legs as he twisted, flipped on his back and turned away from which ever side I was trying to comb. I looked at him and ordered him to sit. 

“Max, your just too much dog for me” I told him as I thought about having to walk him that evening. I sure wish someone else would help me out with you. I knew he was getting antsy  and needed to be walked that night but I just did not want to do it. 

That afternoon I had left the gate to the yard open to bring in a shelf. Max stood back and was very good about not going out as the large garden shelves were brought in. 

When 4:00 PM arrived Max was doing his velcro thing. He followed me everywhere around the house. “Oh, it’s your dinner time.” I put his food out in the patio and he began to crunch.

Ten minutes later I listened for his whine to come in. He was not at the door. I looked out into the yard and thought, “Good. He is doing his business.”

Then all of the sudden I remembered. “I left the gate open!” I ran to the front door to look calling out to my son in law, Alika, “Max is loose, I forgot to close the gate!”

 Alika ran out the front door and I passed him Max’s leash as he headed down the street.

Alika ran to the park down the block, I started calling up towards the end of the culdesac thinking maybe he had chased the neighbors cat. Then I jumped in the car. The whole time Max’s big brown eyes stared  at me through my minds eye. ‘Please, please, please, Max. Don’t run out in the road.’ 

He was such a willy, nilly never paying any attention to what was going on around him. I looked to my left and to my right as I started to drive down the street. My son in law was just coming home with an empty leash. He said he could not see him anywhere.

It had only been ten minutes. Could he have run straight down to the main road? As I headed out to the main drag I called out the car window to a boy, standing in his bare feet, staring down the road.

“Have you seen a black shaggy dog?” He answered in the negative and asked me if I had seen a gray spotted dog running loose. I remembered the dog as he always got loose in the early dawn when I would walk Max. He would always run after us trying to get Max to play. I would always have to cut our walk short to take him back home.

“No I haven’t seen him but I know where to bring him if I do.” In my mind I could see Max and his wayward pal running down the busy street jumping and playing. I was afraid to drive to the big park. I was so afraid I would see Max, dead, his black fury body, motionless in the street. 

Of course all the things I shoulda, coulda, would have done for Max went through my mind. Was this going to be the last time I ever see him again? 

I drove everywhere, asked everyone. I even thought maybe he’s still in the house. I thought about the time I tore out of the house looking for Zoe, crying because I could not find her only to realize that I had accidently locked her in my closet and there she was crying to get out when I got home. 

No, I knew Max was outside and I knew he was gone. So I slowly drove home. I could hear the boys dog barking to get back into his yard as I drove by, but no Max. I gave it one last call as I passed our house. I yelled as loud as I could and looked in the front screen of the house from the car. I thought I heard click, click, click on our wooden floors. I started to turn the car around to head out again when Alika called out to me that Max was back. 

He had been where I thought he was in the first place. At the neighbors, chasing their cats and eating all the cats food. I was so relieved and happy to see my little guy. The water bowl that I had filled up with clean water just before Max had run away was now full of red dirt. Max was panting and I think he was smiling too. 

I took him out in back once again, this time the gate was closed. I started to re-brush all of the weeds that were stuck to this Brillo pad dog. Lifting his bangs, I looked into his eyes and said to him. 

“Well, I guess I won’t have to take you for a walk tonight.”

 It turned out to be a great day for both of us. 

Help, Max is holding my computer hostage!

Docking My Tail

Now I know I've mentioned that little terrier that I was supposed to get but didn't because, well, Max happened. Oh, and I know I said that though I could not have this little dog I would have max and he would be like mine, only I would not have to do any of the work to take care of him. 

Well fast forward 6 months and you are looking at the picture of my tail. My daughter was walking him 5 days a week then she got sick. So I stepped up from 2 days to 4 days and she walks him 3 days until she recovers. 

Truthfully, he is getting so much better at walking he has only pulled my back out once. He nows just whimpers when he sees other dogs and I'm able to contain him in a sit position as fellow travelers go by. 

I've slowly been introducing him to other dogs that seem to be sociable. Two people were very good about it one was not happy when Max bared his teeth to there little pup. I could not see it as I'm not able to bend my knees to get down and look but I was very apologetic. It seems that women are more apt to let me try this then men. I guess men think I'm trying to put the moves on them. 

Yeah, like I can barely move my legs let alone bother with making inane conversation with them. Max doesn't like men. Don't know why, maybe he thinks there to into themselves too but I want him to get over this fear. So I will continue to stop men on the street and ask if they can just stand there a moment while Max learns to sit comely in front of them. Eventually we will meet some men who are in rhyme with their minds and not get all coogleated. 

Since Max sleeps in my room so that I can prevent him from taking running leaps at me in the morning if he has not been with me all night, I've taken to bathing him also. He stinks! If it goes past one week it smell like a litter box in my room (and I know what that's like because of ending up taking care of blind cat) and if I wait for him to be bathed I will end up with Pepe le Pew.

But I've come to love this toe licking, big brown eyed adoring me, on my heels every minute dog.  So I guess I won't dock my tail or I just may be cutting off my nose to spite my heart.  

Birds in the Trees

As always, double click on the photos to get a closer look. Especially the one with the egret.
Hum, fat cat has that hungry look in his eyes. It must be at least 10 minutes since he last ate.  "Oh there's blind cat, he mews, maybe I can eat his food before he sniffs me out."

"Drat he has that guard boy, who thinks he's Bat Man, with him. He'll never let me eat the food.

Oh wait who's that outside my window? A babe in the woods."

"Ah, a baby mynah, how simple." But then fat cat remembers how he saw that group of Mynah's circling  one of their own, each in turn attacking the offending bird. "Hum, I think his mother is sitting up there in the tree watching him. Nope, wont go there. They'll pull all the whiskers off of my face."

"Ah who's the guy with the skinny legs hiding between the leaves? It's an egret." Hey there's no cows here, he must be lost. Now, if I could just walk a little lighter, uh, oh, there he goes."
"Hey, how did Bat Man get over here, a peacock would taste good right about now. Darned kid, go away boy you bother me. Oh well, who wants a mouth full of feathers?" 
"Oh, Geese! And Christmas right around the corner. I bet those kids would love to get those honkers out of the yard. Wait, what's that over there watching me?"
"What a pig! Ok, Ok, I'm leaving, who wants to eat a greasy goose anyway?"

 And so fat cat decides he will just sit at the top of the stairs and wait for Max.

 As poor Max tries to head up to his grandma's room, Fat Cat refuses to let him by. 

"You big furry hair ball. you may be able to take running leaps and knock grandma down but you won't get past me. Not even Bat Man gets past me." Fat cat is full of himself. Mostly because he can't get full on birds.

Fat Cat folds his legs under his fat body and closes his eyes. Poor Max. He sits and waits, and waits and waits, at the bottom of the stairs. "Grandma, grandma, can you hear me?" Max whines, "Fat Cat won't let me by."

Fat cat purrs to himself, ah, nothing gets by me.

Don't Bug Me

I've added something to the park equation. Max!

As I was locking doors and windows, packing Nico's bag, Max's body started slumping closer to the floor. 

"Poor Max, you know were leaving, I'll be going to drop off Nico at pre-school and go and sit in the park while you have to stay at home."

Sit in the park? Why how unthoughtful of me.  Why can't Max sit there too?

 

Now because Max is with me I've thought it best to sit at that table  where the tree is shading it. ( you can see a photo of the table under my Life and an Empty Tank entry.) He would enjoy it much more then sitting in the car like I had been doing before. That brings me out of the car, into the sunshine and best of all I can hear the birds singing. 

I had been worried that doing my needlepoint under the tree might be asking for a bird to put a down payment on it. It never happened.  But, I never thought about the spiders, ants, and inch worms that would appear and crawl lightly over my back. I'm now living the phrase "go away, you bug me."

What I've learned from a dog

My daughter said that I had a nightmare the night before last and that she had to wake me up in the middle of the night. There getting to be so frequent that now I don’t even remember when she comes into my room. I must have been sleeping on my left side. If I want a freightless nights sleep I have to sleep on my right. Life is so funny, I sleep on the right but when I’m awake I lean to the left.

Last night I did not sleep half the night for some reason or another. Walking in the morning was on my mind as I tossed around. I needed to sleep so that I could get up early enough to walk and be home before my daughter left for work. I finely fell asleep around 4 am and woke with the birds at exactly 5:20.

The first problem was, none of the clothes were assembled like they usually were. All my walking shorts were still in the dryer. I ran down stairs, piled them into the basket, lugged them up the stairs, hastily dressed, unleashed Max and was out the door 10 minutes later then normal.

The second problem was someone had switched off Max’s collar. Alika had left Max’s choker on him the day before and I thought he still had it on so I quickly snapped on his leash and was down the street before I realized he was just wearing his fancy one.

No time, I had to keep moving while all the while I envisioned Max doing his twisting and pulling as we passed other dogs. Angrily, I doubled the leash around him and just kept going.

Four blocks out now and it is the spot where Max drops his load. Only now he has decided that he wants to play Ferdinand and just smell the flowers. Tick, tick, tick. I did not have enough control without his choke chain. I could not pull his collar up high nor could I do the fancy snap that always got his attention.

“Your not the pack leader, your not the pack leader.’ I was taunted by those words from the kids. Max was now pulling me over every other minute and we were getting no where. My peaceful walk, my chance to mull things over in my head never happened. In fact it has never happened since I started walking him. My frustration and stress got the best of me. I pulled him to me and dragged him back home never finishing or for that matter hardly starting my walk.

This anger gets the best of me at times and it is at these times I just want to run away. Like when I was a kid. Only then I would just hide in the closet to see if anyone would miss me. Now if I hid in the closet it would only cause problems for my daughter who would have to deal with it and she has enough stress.

Getting home, I fed Max and walked back to the front to cool off. I hoped that by watering the plants I could calm down but I was greeted by a big green, snarled hose that had beenå thrown off to the side. My granddaughter had washed her car! Now I was really mad and I was spitting nickels. After I untangled, flipped all the kinks, and stretched the hose to its destination I started to water.

My dog George came to mind. I could see me walking to kindergarten and George doing his serpentine walk in front of me sniffing all of the bugs and plants as he went. I’ve never felt that he had a grand, or even good life as my pet. He didn’t sleep in the house, he never went anywhere with the family and he ate mostly table scraps.

His days were spent dodging the dogcatcher. And that is what I thought about while I drenched the roses. George was my Jerry Seinfeld. No matter what went wrong he would come out of hiding and go about his business. His uncanny awareness of the dogcatcher was legendary no matter how they would stalk him they could never catch him.

His life was full of upsets and yet he was always there, sniffing in front of me, showing up after school every single day to walk me back home. And he was always a happy dog.

You know, I never dream about George. He was the best part of the first 15 years of my life. Why do I let little things bother me, why do I invite the terrors of my life into my dreams? Maybe I have to hide behind a bush when the dogcatcher, that is my anger, starts to thread its way into my life. Sit and smell the flowers in those bushes and then come back out when the coast is clear and serpentine, serpentine, my way through the rest of the day.å

I think I can, I think I can

This guy is very stubborn but I am determined to match him. Last week we encountered the two German Shepherds and I almost lost my knee when, twisting and pulling, Max plowed into it.
Today, as we walked and I pulled and snapped at his chain to get him out of the grass and walk forward, we did not have any encounters. Within blocks of the house it happened. Dogs were walking on the leeward side and dogs were walking on the Diamond- head side. I had only the middle of the street to pull Max along. Dogs were growling on my left and barking on my right. Max went into a tailspin and once again almost took me down. I finely get him away and almost home I see Alika come tooling along on his bike. I’m mad, I’m not walking Max any more. Alika, according to him, is the pack leader. I limp home, water the plants sweep the front and walk into the house and have some breakfast. I’m too old for this.
But Max comes over and looks at me with his bushy eyed stair and I know he loves his walks. And in Memory of Zoe I tell my self one more day and Ibuprofen. I will see if we can improve.
Now off to the library, pick up a Dog Whisper book or video. Maybe that will be the tool to help Max to help me. I must repeat, “this too will pass.”

Going to the dogs

I worry so much about all three of our cats and get criticized for it all the time. Blind cat is constantly a source of worry for me. She does get around so easily or so my kids think. But I watch her all the time and see her bump into things and freeze perplexed as to which way she should move next.

We are having our wooden floors put in up stairs and I stayed awake at night worrying about what she would think as everything would be totally disrupted and all her markers would be moved. We had to move all upstairs furniture from five rooms into two rooms. We are now going on to the third day but she has managed by hiding midst all of the piled boxes and furniture.

Last night we were able to put my room together and she appeared as normal. She can’t quite make out what has happened to the floors though as she keeps picking up her paws gingerly as she tries to feel for the carpet. This morning all is piled back into the opposite rooms and one of them is mine so now she is sitting up on the chair in my room wondering where the bed went that she had just slept on last night.

The Siamese has hidden in the pile in the living room and the fat cat is the only one who has made it just fine through all of this disruption. She follows the food. And since the kitchen is in perfect order she has no problem with what is going on upstairs she is sitting just fine down here. Her fur is finely growing back even though everyone was upset with me for putting her on a diet. She has lost weight and I changed her food and her fur is getting very silky.

And as for Max? Well of course I have been worried that he is not getting the exercise that my daughter and husband said they would give to him. So now on my morning walk even though it hurts my knee to bring him along, he is right beside me. The other day he started to pitch and pull to get to the two German Shepherds across the street from us. He spun and twisted and I had a hell of a time settling him down. Finely we got past the two dogs but not before he plowed into the side of my leg sending me into pain when he hit the lateral part of my knee. I limped home and took some pain pills. But I was not in a very good mood.

But this morning we were both off for a walk and once again passed the two shepherds. This time I double leashed him, and the person walking the shepherds was commanding them before we got with in barking distance. Thankfully we walked by uneventfully.

I don’t care how much they say that Max, jumps on me, licks me, sleeps by me and watches my every move because I am just not the pack leader. I just tell them, he loves me more. And that is why at night all the cats and the dog sit in my room when I watch TV or work on a craft. It sure isn’t because they love watching mystery movies.

I want a life

what is wrong with my life? Why do the animals insist on surrounding me with their idiosyncrasies? One of our cat’s here is biting all of her fur off. It is “Odd Todd.” she is the fat, fat cat that eats everyone’s food.
I bought her a special diet food and my daughter kept her locked in her bedroom so she could not get out and eat the other animals food.

She sneaks into my room in the middle of the night and eats Poki's (the blind cat) food. I finely had to force her out of my room as she was just taking over and insisted on sleeping with me. She got very angry because I would not let her in the room. Then she just started pulling her fur out. So I bought the same type of expensive food that I was feeding Max. It is an excellent brand and Max stopped pulling his fur out once he started eating it. So I thought this should work for Todd.

Well she has lost lots of fur and has little sores now where she has been biting herself. I told Chris, my daughter to just let her go and let her come in my room and eat what she wants and I let her sleep in here if she likes. I think her nerves must have gotten the best of her when she had to stop eating so much. But Chris blames me for Todd loosing her fur. And she and her husband still insist that I am not the pack leader but part of the pack, as their dog,and their two cats insist on being in my room.

Of course Max also thinks I'm an obstacle course with a built in hurdle as when he sees me in the morning he leaps at me and over things and runs in circles and then charges me again. I just can’t get him to stop it. This is a typical morning greeting. I think the only thing that will stop him is to just let him sleep in the room with me at night too. This is to much. A blind cat, a fat cat and the stinky dog. Where did I go wrong.

A good night's sleep

Max is still insisting that I am one of his pack. Not the leader but one of his pals. He follows me everywhere and leaps on me at night when I go to sleep. Chris has taken to tying him up in her room at night in hopes that I can sleep with out interference from him.

To add to that nights sleep, I finely bought a double bed. I could not stand sleeping in the dip of my hard, twin mattress another day. My neck was so stiff and I woke up sore every morning.

The only problem is, Papoki, the blind Cat. (This is my daughters cat but since she brought Todd into the house Papoki chooses to sleep with me.) Poor me. On the first night that I got the bed Papoki could not figure out how to get on to it as it is higher then the old one. She was scratching on all the furniture trying to get her bearings. This she would do in the middle of the night. So I would have to get off the bed and put her on to it and then she would sleep a few minutes get down go and eat then walk around in the hall then come back and start all over with the scratching. Because she likes to walk around in the hall in the middle of the night I can't close my bedroom door or she will then scratch on it endlessly until I get up to let her in.

After I finely got her settled in, the other cat, Todd who is on a diet, came into my room and started eating papoki's food. I then had to get up and take it away, get into bed, and then Todd hopped up on my computer desk on to the keyboard and then to the sill to look out my window. After I had finely fallen asleep she then hopped on my bed with a thump and woke me. She and Papoki then stared each other down and growled, at which time I had to take Todd out, dump her back into my daughters room, and finely to sleep.

Next thing I know I hear a thump on my computer chair, Todd is on it, directly across from my bed staring at Papoki. Now Papoki can't see her and so she is sleeping but I'm quite awake waiting for Todd to fling herself on to the bed. But I am so tired I finely fall asleep. At 4 in the morning! Finely it's time to get up and I awake with Todd at my feet and Papoki in my face.

That morning Chris was anxious to hear how I slept on my new bed. Did I get a good nights sleep? Well, my neck didn't hurt. For all of the action that that has taken place in my room each night since, I might as well have saved my money and just slept on the couch down stairs because my room is going to the cat's.

Poor Max, might as well let him loose too who knows maybe he can chase the two out and then I will only have to contend with him. Maybe I can get used to his tongue sluping up my cheek and his taking over the bed. At least at some point he settles down and goes to sleep.

Lately I have been feeling, (and I do love animals that's for sure,) lets just give them all away! No more fur full of water dripping on my clean clothes after Max takes a long drink, no scratching at all points of the room in the middle of the night, no fat Todd cheating on her diet in my room or clawing my new bed spread and picking on Papoki because she is model thin, no worrying about Sam, Rachel's cat, as he sits in Rachel's room waiting for her to come home. And best of all no cleaning up cat litter!!!

I shouldn't be so hasty though, who knows how I will feel after a good night's sleep.

In His Masters Secret Service

I’ve had pets all of my life. My first dog was George. He was a medium size mixed terrier. Dad said he was in the K-9 Core and was named after King George of England.

Oh, I was so proud of that. I told everyone on the block and in school. (He always walked me to School and picked me up.) He was a very smart dog to be sure and was my protector for 16 years.

Now that I’m an adult, I think back to the many things my dad told me, I wonder if George was just some dog dad found and tried to glamorize him to me. He fabricated a lot of stories for my entertainment and this could have been one of them.

George would have been 1 year old in 1945 when I was born. This was the year he came into my life. Maybe he had been considered for training just before the war ended. Well that would be what I would like to think anyway.

One thing I do know, when I was around 6 George bit the Mail Man.

One afternoon as I happily arrived home, probably after fighting with someone, I noticed George being put into the back of a truck. I ran up to my father to ask him what was going on. He told me that George was going to my Uncle’s house for a while because the Mailman wanted to have George put to sleep. My dad was going to fight it and George was going to go to court so he had to stay somewhere until the case was decided.

I did not see George Bite the mailman, I don’t remember what kind of truck it was that took him away but I do remember him going.

Time passed and Dad told me that George had had his day in court. He then went on to tell me about the trial. He said the News Paper even covered the trial.

When the mailman accused George of being a vicious dog it seems everyone came out of the woodwork to defend George’s honor. The neighbor down the street (the young married couple who baked me my very own cookies for Christmas) told about how George would come over and dig up all of these holes in his lawn. This caused him quite a bit of consternation until one day when George was digging away and the neighbor was about to chase him away George backed out of the hole with a dead gopher in his mouth. From that day on the neighbor could not do enough for George. He even bought him his own box of Kibbles dog treats.

Another woman, whom we did not know, came to plead for George. It seemed that George was leading a double life. This lady worked until midnight at which time she had to take the bus home. When she arrived at her stop, there was George waiting for her in the middle of the night, ready to walk her home. She did not know what she would do if he were to be put to sleep.

You have to remember that there was no leash law at this time and George slept on the front porch, so who knows what he did with his nights.

Last but not least, someone testified that they had seen the mailman hit George with his mailbag for no reason at all. I guess that was the clincher.

Next thing I knew there was our little 007 sitting on the front porch waiting for me. Mission accomplished.

This is what I do know. George went away in a truck. George did dig up gophers in the neighbors yard and George came back after
many days, to stay, and the mailman didn’t.

But did he stay with my Uncle? My uncle says “No!” Did he go to court? No one remembers but me and since those of my immediate family are dead, I can’t ask them about it.

Could my dad tell stories? Well let’s just say it runs in the family.