Where’s the Beef?

Where’s the beef???  In Mom’s freezer and, pretty soon, in my tummy!!!!

Mom and I went camping with our Texas cowpoke friends in Missouri a bit ago.  I love the fella, Mr. John.  Those are his feet that I am cuddling up to in the photo to the left.  He knows just where and how to pet me.  As for the lady, Miss Carol, I worship her.  She always has a pocketful of my favorite cookies, and she loves to dole them out to me piece by piece.  It is a lovely game.

Better yet, Miss Carol transferred half a dozen packages of ground cow from her freezer to ours.  She knows I am on a special diet and wanted to contribute to my good health and longevity with beef straight from their personal herd.  Mom says it is magic meat and will probably get me at least through Christmas.  Not bad for a sick old girl that she had all but written off a few short months ago, eh?

Mr. John says that I look great and that Mom is just overreacting to stuff the vets told her.  I really like how that guy thinks.  I also totally agree with him, but I am not letting on.  I am enjoying all the special treatment I’ve been getting, especially the home-cooked diet.

Anyways, we had a great time together.  Lots of walks and visits.  Mr. John and Miss Carol’s house-on-wheels is bigger than ours.  We all fit in there just fine and nobody stepped on me once, though I have to admit I tried my best to trip Miss Carol a couple of times when she was on her way from one spot to another carrying food.  Even if I couldn’t get her to drop what she was carrying, I was hopeful more cookies would spill from her pockets if she went down.  I suppose it is just as well that I did not succeed.  Something tells me that Mom would have banished my old bones from our get-togethers should I not be on her definition of good behavior.

One day we spent a couple of hours outside and, for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out what the big deal was.  Mom and our friends were trying to see something funny that was happening up in the sky.  They put weird, dark glasses on their faces and stared up at the sun.  Silly people.  Don’t they know that will give you a headache?  Things did get funky for a while, though, when the sky, trees, and grass all shifted to deeper, cooler shades, the cicadas stopped singing and end-of-the day critter songs took up the oddly-slacking chorus.  But it didn’t last long, and I knew all was well with the world when the cookies and walks resumed.

Our friends didn’t just treat me really special on this visit.  They were super nice to my Mom, too.  Mom had a birthday while we were together and they spoiled her even more than they spoiled me!  That’s all right.  Even Moms deserve a little spoiling now and then.

Back to me.  I was really sad when our visit ended.  Mom and I rolled out of the campground and she told me that our friends were going to head back to their ranch in Texas.  I cried and whined for a bit, then I took a long nap.  Everything looked better when I woke up, even though my ears hurt because Mom was howling (she calls it singing) along with the radio.  Mom says we will get to see these friends again in just a few short months and, before then, we will get to see other people that we love.  Meanwhile, I can enjoy the gift that is in our freezer and–to get to the real meat of the matter–I can relish the memories of all our good times.  So many, many good times.

Yes.  Dogs have great memories.

Especially me.

(Note from Mom to all scientifically-minded readers out there:  The picture of the eclipse included above–taken with a simple i-phone and no filter–shows the brightness of the eclipsed sun (around 98%) at the bottom of the photo.  How many observant eyes noted the curious crescent shape above and to the right?  Somehow, the eclipsed sun’s reflection ended up in those clouds, masquerading as a crescent moon.  Please explain.  Because I cannot.  Feel free to use the comments section so that others can see your explanation.  The prize will be another mystery-puzzle based on a ground photo taken around the same time.  So, come on people, make an educated–or intuitive–guess!)

A Note to My Fans

Hello Friends and Fans!

I hear that Mom has told you that I am not feeling so hot.  Well, just look at this picture of me.  It is a picture of health, beauty, fitness, and happiness if I ever saw one.  Mom, however, says it looks like I have a unicorn horn growing out of my head.  Sheesh.  Okay, then.  I will own it.  Better yet, I will go beyond.  My new nickname shall be Midnight Unicorn.  My real name has gotten to be so long that I think I deserve a hot little nickname, and that one really suits me.  It conveys a certain magical flair with a hint of danger.  Yup, that’s me in a nutty shell.

That picture was taken in the back yard of a friend that we visited on our way up north.  She has a huge fenced-in back yard, and I got to have hours and hours of off-leash time while Mom relaxed, chatting with her friend in the shade.  Such freedom!  Room to gallop without an impatient loved one tugging on the other end of a leash.  Leisure time to dig a frantic hole without getting yanked back and scolded.  Doggy heaven!

Mom’s friend has two huge dogs (Chesapeake Bay Retrievers) and every evening of our visit we leash-walked through the neighborhood with the one named Jill.  The other dog is named Bug.  Mom and her friend said Bug and me were too much alike to risk walking together.  You know the type:  high-strung geniuses.

 

Jill is really smart, too.  And she is a professional athlete.  Her Mom takes her to Agility competitions and she has won many ribbons and awards for her athletic prowess.  She is famous and has had her picture in some doggy magazines which, I have to admit, is pretty darned cool.  That is why, once I met her, I didn’t mind walking down the street with her one little bit.

Jill and Bug’s back yard is full of agility equipment that they use to practice and keep in shape.  They have fences to jump over and tunnels to run through, narrow bridges to cross and even a see-saw to run up and down.  They also have a swimming pool that gives them more exercise and play time.  The first pool picture is of Jill pretending to be a flying mermaid.  Then there are a couple of pictures of Bug.  While she is not quite as graceful and powerful as Jill (and me), she got the job done.

What a life!

Back to my life.  Rest assured, I will be here watching over Mom and our little corner of the world to the best of my ability for as long as the cosmos lets me.  For that is my job.  My role.  My purpose.  Mom says I win the prize for Best Road Doggie in the World.  Well, don’t tell her, but I think she is the best road mommy in the world, despite all the leash tugs.  I know she means well.  I know she loves me.  Besides, I give as good as I get.

Just remember this:  Beloved dogs never die.  They play on your heartstrings forever.

With loads of love and doggy kisses,

Dawny Virgil Prewash Sassy Generous … (a.k.a. Midnight Unicorn)

(This post is dedicated to Ann and Pan.)

Looking Up

Mom says to never forget to look up.

It is really easy to forget.  As wonderful as I am, I still am not perfect.  I get wrapped around the need (a driving, pounding, persistent NEED) for cookies.  Now.

Mom takes me for lots of walks.  And I get lots of cookies in this campground we are in now.  My nose pulls me towards the promise of cookies.   And I often get them . . .  by ones, twos, threes . . .  and when I am exceptionally lucky, by the fours (oh, Uncle Joe, thank you thank you thank you).

But you know what?  If I slow down enough to ponder Mom’s advice, I find that the world is way bigger than I knew.  And a simple cookie does not define its limits.

You see those doggies over yonder?  They don’t mean me any harm.  I don’t have to strain at my leash and try to run them out of town.  Even if they get cookies, too, it seems that there is plenty to go around.

Do you want to know what the craziest thing is?  Good, simple lovin’–a scratch on the butt, rubbing of the ears, massaging the bark-sore throat, a meandering conversation on a balmy afternoon–it turns out that those things are just as sweet as a cookie.  Who knew?

Maybe that’s what Mom means about looking up.  I need to find some distance, a perspective longer and broader than that granted through self-gratification–aren’t I smart to use such big words!–to see the bigger picture.  The wider picture.  The deeper picture.

Mom likes to read what she calls history.  She says that when you look at an immediate problem (like the need to be alpha cookie dog at all times, no matter what or who or wherefore) through the perspective of a big, sweeping picture (like the one at the top of this post that shows a timeless, blue sky free from the grasp of winter’s gnarled, dying branches) it can boost your faith, trust, and confidence to do the right thing.

Translation?  Well, in my case, I would do well to appreciate the lovin’ I get from our neighbors as much as those cookies.  To allow other doggies to enjoy their cookies, too.  It turns out that what they enjoy does not detract from what I enjoy.  It actually multiplies all of the joy.

It brightens the blue of the sky for every one of us.

Nothing wrong with that.

Just sayin’.  As a humble little doggy.  Just sayin’.