Its a dog's life, barking about anything and everything; over the fence and under the quilt. Owner of two humans (David) the photographer and (Ronnie) the artist, and all around canine philosopher. Come on in and sit awhile. We'll chew the fat, gossip about the other dogs and laugh at the human's antics.
I do, it is a form of communication just like wagging a tail or sniffing a butt. If someone comes to my door I bark to let them know that I am inside and am summoning the humans. If we are walking and we happen across a human roaming free, I will bark to let them know that I expect them to stop and pet me. It is the courteous thing to do.
However, I dislike dogs that stand there and bark and bark and bark. They dominate the conversation and don't let others get a growl in edgewise. It is so impolite.
Likewise, I dislike human puppies that can't behave themselves in public especially at an eating store. Oh I know that they have to be let out so they can *learn*, but part of that learning is proper training.
If you are in an eating store and your pups are misbehaving, take them home. The waiter won't mind, and I am fairly certain the other patrons won't mind. In fact they will probably applaud you on your way out.
When we are out and about, we see all sorts of people. Big, small, short, tall, lean, not-so-lean, every color, shape and size.
There are two things I just don't get.
One is the boys walking around, hunched over, holding onto the waistbands of their pants, which happen to be hanging around their knees.
The other is old men, hunched over, with their waistbands up around their armpits.
So, after wondering, thinking, and pondering I think I have come up with at least part of the answer.
Why the boys walk around with their waistbands around their knees, I cannot explain.
However, I think what happens is this; as the boy ages, his pants little by little, centimeter by centimeter, like a molasses in winter, creep up to it's natural position (around the *WAIST*...it is called a WAISTband for a reason!!).
When the boy becomes an adult, he begins to look rather normal, and the pants are pretty much where they belong. Then as he progresses into old age, the pants continue their upward movement. So by the time he becomes an old man, the waistband has arrived at his armpits.
The solution is to train your pants from the beginning so they know their proper place.
You'll thank me when you are old.
Have you ever wondered what was inside a fire extinguisher? Well the one in the trunk of the artist's car is...or should I say was... full of a lot of yellow powder.
There it was sitting in a laundry basket along side the other emergency supplies, (you know, a squished-up roll of paper towels, a quart of oil, a package of dried out baby wipes, an MRE, a flashlight with dead batteries, 11 plastic grocery bags, jumper cables, and a baseball) when the unexpected happened.
Did you know that if a fire extinguisher is sitting in just the right position, and somehow the safety latch was not in the correct place, and the car came to sudden stop at a traffic light causing the laundry basket to slide into the back of the rear seats, that it just might go off?
And did you know it makes a loud hissing noise?
And did you know that it puts out a great deal of a fine buttery yellow powder that covers everything?
And did you know that it takes $5.00 worth of quarters at the car-wash vacuum to get it all cleaned up?
I am glad I wasn't in the back of the car or they would be calling me......
"Once Upon a Time All the World Was Bright and Beautiful"
If you ask anybody over the age of 40 about their grandmother, they will probably have a story about a quilt. It may be a warm memory of snuggling under a quilt on a cold winter's night or sitting under the frame watching the needle dance in and out.
There is no better feeling than being wrapped up in quilted love waiting on a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup.
Many years ago, the artist's grandmother had Alzheimer's. When Ami Simms put out a Call for Entries, the artist had to make a quilt (because that is what she does).
"Once Upon A Time..." is her entry, which got accepted into a special exhibit that has been touring the country since August 2006. Read their story at Quilter's Save Our Stories, and if it comes anywhere close to where you live, you should make plans to go see it. Oh, there is a book and a CD you can order if you can't wait on the exhibit.
The artist doesn't make the same kind of quilts as her grandmother did. Her quilts are generally too small to warm the body, but hopefully on a good day, they will warm the soul.
I got a note from Treasure Barn and she has the most poignant story about her dogs (Saturday, February 24, 2007; A Sad Start with a Happy Ending) on her blog. I was reminded of my own beginnings.
I don't much remember where I was before the shelter. I do remember that they were very nice to me and there were a lot of other dogs waiting to find humans to take care of.
My first human was Kind Lady. She took me home but we didn't stay together very long. I must have done an ok job with her because she moved to a place that didn't need dogs and I had to find another human to take care of.
Then I went home with Pretty Lady. What a handful that turned out to be. Pretty Lady had a husband, a baby, and another dog! It didn't take me long to whip that place into shape and soon they didn't need me any more either.
Pretty Lady's father, Kind Gentle Man (aka the photographer) looked like he really needed a special dog to take care of him, so I volunteered for the job. Boy, little did I know what a handful he would be. I was about a year old when I got there and I have been here about a year. It has taken a lot of patience but I think I am about to get him trained.
In the morning I lick his face to get him out of bed. I accompany him to breakfast to make sure he eats properly. We go to work every day where I supervise everything he does. I take him for at least one walk, sometimes two if he is feeling energetic.
Potty training went fairly well, it was all a matter of recognizing his signals of when he needed to go out. We tried crate training but I have found that Kind Gentle Man responded much better to couch training instead. It doesn't take much coaxing to get him on the couch if I turn the TV on.
There was no need for socialization for this human. He will talk to anyone at anytime about anything. Some humans are just that way I guess. At least I don't have to worry about him biting anyone.
I do believe he is going to turn out to be a well behaved human, I think I will keep this one!
********************************************************************************* I have one coat. Just one. I wear it all the time. Occasionally my coat gets cleaned when I visit the spa, and I do get groomed by one of the humans from time to time, but I am generally satisfied with a roll in the grass and a good shake after my morning pee.
My humans on the other hand have very different needs when it comes to coats.
Not the photographer so much as the artist.
The photographer has one coat for Brrrrrzzzzy days and another for just plain cold days.
The artist, on the other hand, has a coat for Brrrrrzzzzy days, a coat for just plain cold days, a coat for mild days, a coat for rainy days, a coat for days when the air conditioner is on, a coat just in case the weather changes from mild to cold, a short coat, and a long coat. She even has a couple of old coats that she keeps to do chores in so her other coats won't get dirty. (Not to mention all the sweaters, jackets and flannel shirts!)
One of the things about having humans is knowing their basic needs and how to care for them.
Feeding and walking - no problem. Knowing which coat the artist is going to need is a whole different matter. It is a good thing humans have us dogs to take care of them.
parkbenchstudio.com ********************************************************************************** Selected Dog Quote of the Day
Mrs. Campbell once attempted to smuggle her pet Pekingese through customs by tucking him inside the upper part of her cape. "Everything was going splendidly," she later remarked, "until my bosom barked."