A Dog's Life

Who came up with the saying, "Work like a dog?"  None of my dogs ever worked a day in their lives!  Sure, they act like they're helping me around the house now and then, but really all they're doing is following me around from room to room, standing by my side while cooking dinner in hopes of catching a scrap or two, stealing socks from the laundry basket and barking at the vacuum cleaner.

All Dudley ever does is sleep and snore.  It's what he does best, and he's so cute while doing it!  I guess that's his job, working hard at being cute and irresistible!

Gotta love him!

It was the best day ever. . .

until Dudley swallowed another sock!

Hubby rarely gets to be home with us on weekends because of his work, so this weekend was especially nice since he was home both days.  We slept in (as long as the donkeys would let us) and lazied around in our pj's.  Hubby built a nice fire out back and we sat out there with Duds and drank our coffee, listening to the birds sing.  The weather was perfect.  I fixed us a nice breakfast and while we were feasting on pancakes and bacon, Dudley had a big bowl of his favorite kibble and the donkeys munched on hay and sweet feed.  Everyone was happy and content on the hollow.

We went back inside and I was doing dishes, Hubby was watching football and Dudley was up to no good, chewing on something he shouldn't be chewing on behind Daddy's chair.  Hubby turned around to see what Duds had in his mouth and then I heard "No! No!" and a couple not-so-nice words and then my name being yelled in a not-so-nice way.  I came running in from the kitchen and there hanging limply from Hubby's fingertips was one of my socks, soaked in slobber.  Hubby had pulled it out of Dudley's mouth just as he was getting ready to swallow it.  Uh oh. . .

Of course we both went into panic mode and poor Dudley was cowering behind the chair because he knew he'd done something dreadfully wrong.  One sock was still unaccounted for and we tore the living room apart looking underneath chairs, the ottoman and the couch.  We paced room to room, worried and fretted and willed the sock to magically appear, but it was nowhere to be found.   We just KNEW Dudley had already swallowed it.  Hubby got madder and madder.  "You know better than to leave your socks around where he can get them!"  "I know, I know, I'm sorry!"  I also knew better than to bring up the fact that I've picked up many a Hubby-sock here and there and not to point out that I'm not the only one around here that leaves socks laying around.  No need to poke the angry giant!  And why in the world does a dog eat a sock anyway?  Sheesh!

I remembered the breeder we bought Duds from had told me what to do in case he ever swallowed something he wasn't supposed to.  He had mentioned a couple tricks to get Duds to throw up, and for the life of me, I couldn't remember either one.  So, I called him and he reminded me that one trick was to feed him something super greasy, and the other was to pour a little peroxide down his throat.  I hung up the phone and Hubby went to get the peroxide. 

Poor little Dudley just sat there and took it like a man as Daddy squirted that nasty peroxide into his mouth.  He walked around a little and shook his head and we paced and worried some more.  I busied myself in the kitchen, trying to avoid Hubby's wrath, and Duds followed me in there.  I guess he felt I was the safer parent to be around at the time.  I came around the kitchen island just in time to see a huge pile of up-chuck in the floor and squealed with delight!  Duds had thrown up and there in the middle of all the muck was the missing sock!  Praise the Lord!  I never thought I'd be so glad to have a dog throw up on my kitchen floor!  We were so relieved.

So, our peaceful day had a little hitch in it, but things eventually calmed down and returned to normal.  Dudley crawled up on Daddy's lap and I finished cleaning the kitchen and soon they were both snoring away.  Whew!

I promise, I'll be more careful with my socks!

The Old Red Barn

This barn sits across the road from our house and I've always loved it.  It welcomes us home every night and greets me in the mornings as I look out the kitchen window while waiting for my coffee to brew.  We've used it as the back-drop for many a family photo.  It just has so much character.  It's beautiful in all seasons.  I especially love it in the Spring and Summer when the ivy grows thick over the front, covering the barn from the ground all the way to the rooftop.

The current owners of the barn told us recently they were planning to tear it down sometime soon.  When I heard this, I almost cried.  I know it would probably cost more to fix it up than it would to tear it down, and it can hardly be used to store things anymore in the state that its in.  The whole backside is nearly fallen into itself.  The rusty roof has been peeled back after many years of strong storms and there are boards missing everywhere.  There are spots where you can see right through the rafters to the sky above. 

It was probably once the majestic pride of the farmer who built it.  To me, it's still majestic.  It has a huge loft at the top where the hay used to be pulled up with cables and pulleys.  Our neighbor who has lived on the hollow for over 40 years, once owned the barn and the land that it sits on, and he told me  how the hay used to be hoisted up into the loft using hay carriers and trolleys from the wagons down below.  He used it as a cow barn for years before he sold it to the man that owns it now.

There are corn cribs built all along one wall of the lower level.  Owls take shelter inside and some evenings we sit on our porch and listen to their calls.  Barn swallows swoop down out of the loft and circle in front of the barn in the mornings and at dusk, and an occasional buzzard perches up on the roof. 

Our old dog Jake got himself stuck in the loft once when he was just a pup.  He had gone exploring and wandered up the stairs, but was too scared to climb back down.  When we noticed he was gone, we frantically called his name over and over and we heard him yelp and whimper and realized the sounds were coming from the old barn.  Boy was he ever glad to be rescued from that hay loft.

At night, when the wind blows harder than usual, there's a piece of tin on one corner of the roof that bangs and clangs as it slams up and down.  It used to wake us up at night, but now we've gotten used to it.

If our neighbor really does have this barn torn down, it will be a very sad day indeed.  I can't imagine a drive down the hollow without passing this beloved old barn.  If that dreaded day ever comes, I plan on snagging a few mementos from the debris.  Some faded red boards I'll use to build some birdhouses for the yard.  Maybe one of the old doors to hang on the side of our little barn as decoration, or a couple sections of the corn crib to put hay in for our donkeys.  Somehow, I'll find a way to preserve the memories of the old red barn and all its glory.

My wish for you. . . .

is to be loved in the new year.  It's such a wonderful feeling to be loved.  And I'm not talking about only being loved romantically, but being loved in general, by multiple acquaintances throughout life.  Sure, romantic love is wonderful, and I am romantically loved by my precious Hubby, but I'm also loved by my sweet Mother and my beautiful Sister, by my Daddy and my Prampa, my Aunts and Uncles, my co-workers, my friends and neighbors and even by my sweet puppy Dudley.  Puppy love is one of the best kinds of love and I highly recommend it. 

It's true what they say, "All you need is love!"  As long as you've got that, you have everything you need.  Love is shown in many ways:  a compliment, a hug, an offer for lunch or coffee, an unexpected card or letter, an email or a text, comfort, safety, peace, help around the house, a gift when it's not even your birthday, dinner waiting when you get home from work, laughter and smiles, friendships, fresh baked goodies that appear on your doorstep, when someone borrows your car and brings it back with a full tank of gas, a thoughtful favor without having to ask.  Just knowing someone thinks enough of you to do any of these things, shows you are loved.

And when someone tells you they love you, that's the best of all.  To hear it said and to say it back, "I love you!"  What a wonderful way to start the new year!

Jingle Bells, Jingle Bells

It's that time of year again and we've come to realize our dog Dudley can't stand bells!  Every time a commercial comes on television with bells ringing in the background, he just about falls out of Daddy's lap.  We'll be driving down the road and a Christmas advertisement will come on the radio and he starts barking wildly.  I was taking some Christmas decorations out of a box the other night and came across a string of Christmas bells that hang on the door.  Poor old Duds came running from the other end of the house barking like the house was on fire.

Scarlett, the bloodhound that lives down the road, wears a bell around her neck.  Dudley can hear her coming from a mile away.  And when the neighbors hook up their horses to the wagon for their Sunday country rides, Dudley just about has a complete come-apart when they ride past our house with the bells jangling from their harnesses.  It's all we can do to keep him from busting through the screen door to chase after them.

Last night I had to swing by the grocery store for a few things.  Duds was in the front seat, sound asleep.  I drove by the front of the store in search of a parking space and we passed the Salvation Army bell ringer that was standing at the door greeting everyone.  Dudley shot straight up from a dead sleep barking so loudly that I nearly ran right into the buggy corral.  Good grief!  Scared me half to death.  I had to park the truck as far away from the front of the store as I could, just to get him to stop barking.

Just for meanness, I should tie a jingle bell to his collar and see what he does.  On second thought, I better not.  He'd probably go into convulsions chasing himself around the house!

Thankfully Tuckered Out

We've had a lot to be thankful for this month of Thanksgiving.  Mom and Sister got to come spend the holiday with us and Dudley was overjoyed.  This is the first time he got to meet his Grandma from Okie-homa and he loved her from the minute she walked in the door.  The feeling was mutual, of course, and Grandma lavished him with love the whole time she was here.  We had a wonderful meal, lots of giggling and relaxing time, sat outside by the fire, shopped like crazy and spent a leisurely Black Friday visiting out-of-the-way boutiques and taking a country drive down to the Amish market to load up on homemade goodies.  Hubby got some hunting time in and loaded our freezer with fresh venison.

Dudley's bedtime was later than usual as we all tried to stay up as late as possible each night, getting the most out of our visiting time.  He'd move from one lap to another trying to get comfortable so he could fall asleep.  The last night he barely hit the bed before he zonked out and was snoring away.  The week flew by and before you know it, we were saying our tearful goodbyes.  The visits never seem to last long enough.

The day after everyone left, the house seemed so empty.  Dudley walked from room to room looking for his ear scratchers and belly rubbers.  He looked so forlorn when he plopped down after his search turned up nothing.  No more Grandma and Auntie Tiff.  Heavy sigh.

Thank you Lord, for our family time.  Thank you for all the love and fellowship.  Thank you for providing for us and for blessing our lives.  Thank you for the peace in our hearts and for snoring bulldogs.

Motherhood: Not for the faint of heart!

I would have made the world's worst Mother!  Having this puppy, makes me realize this more and more every day.  I'm over-protective, worrisome, and project hypochondria on the little bugger at the slightest sign of a runny nose or if he even looks at me funny.

They say Mom's have eyes in the back of their heads and are all-knowing, but obviously that doesn't include me because Dudley swallowed a sock once without me even knowing until later that night when he threw it up, whole!  I didn't even know a dog would eat a sock, for heaven's sake!  I shouldn't be surprised though, as he eats anything and everything he can get his mouth on.  Bugs, rocks, leaves, twigs, dirt.  He thinks everything on the ground is food, I guess, whether it tastes good or not.  I was in horror the first time I caught him chasing and then eating a spider on the porch.  He even tried to eat a wasp once, even after it stung him.  Good grief!

If he's out in the back yard playing and gets within three feet of the fence I'm having a come-apart.  I'm scared he'll get in with the donkeys and they'll stomp him to death.  Hubby has strung wire all along the bottom boards of the fence to prevent him from squeezing underneath, but still I start hyperventilating anytime he even gets close.  Hubby tries to reassure me and get me to relax, but I just can't seem to do it.  "Just let him be a puppy!" he says, or "Stop stressing out!"  I'm trying, really I am, but if anything ever happened to that precious angel, and especially if my donkeys had something to do with it, I'd just die.

Today I had him with me at the office and he was just snoring away.  When he woke up, I took him downstairs for some fresh air, then fed him some lunch.  When I went to clean him up afterward, I noticed one of his eyes had no pupil.  One eye was perfectly fine with his normal sized pupil and the other had none at all!  Of course this scared the peewiddlywaddles out of me, so the first thing I did was look on the internet for an explanation.  Can you imagine me with a human baby, looking everything up on the internet and then believing everything I was reading?  We'd be bankrupt from all the emergency room visits in the middle of the night!  I was just getting ready to load him up and run him over to the vet when I looked down and his eyes were back to normal.  Whew!  Not sure what caused it, but it sure scared me there for a minute.  See what I mean about projecting hypochondria?  I instantly think the worse and that he's somehow contracted some rare and terrifying condition that can't be cured!

I just can't imagine what a bundle of nerves I would have been if I had ever had a real baby of my very own to care for.  Motherhood is such a big responsibility and I honestly don't think I was cut out for it.  I know they say the instincts just come to you naturally, but I'm not sure I believe it.  It sure makes me admire all the mother's I know, my own included.  Mothers deserve diamond encrusted, solid gold medals for all they endure.  One for every year they are mother's, and then some!