Hey, fellas. I think there’s a crazy guy out there. He’s out there in all sorts of weather.
I’ll go check if he’s okay. Just remember it’s not against the law to be crazy.
I think I’ve seen this guy around town.
Doesn’t he know you can just go to the store and buy fish?
This gentle dog was visiting at the mall last week. I’ve whited out his owner’s face for the sake of his anonymity.
I had never seen an Irish wolfhound up close like this, much less touched one, but this fellow didn’t mind at all that I touched his nose when we said hello.
I was amazed at his size, easily standing as high as his owner’s waist, and weighing over 200 lbs.
Irish wolfhounds were bred to guard against wolves in Ireland several hundred years ago. Although they must have been aggressive and tough to kill wolves, they are generally quite calm and gentle. They are not bred to be guard dogs, lacking enough aggression for this job.
Still, if you would be the owner of an Irish wolfhound, it would be advisable to train your dog early, before he gets too big to say no to.
Another thing I’ve learned about them is that Irish wolfhounds are susceptible to a heart condition called cardiomyopathy, so they do not usually have a long lifespan. Six to ten years seems to be the average lifespan.
It was a real treat to be able to meet this very large dog. He was seven years old, and very mild mannered. As I went home from having met this dog, I kept thinking, “It must cost a small fortune to feed this dog, but I’m sure he would earn his keep by being such a loving companion.”
Might as well do my nails while I’m watching the walnuts dry.
In the lower level, by the woodstove, the walnuts are bagged and almost ready to be hung above the woodstove to finish drying. I think I’ll have to get another burlap bag or maybe two more, to hold all those nuts as they dry. All the messy work of scraping the black goo from the shells has been done. Now we wait. Most days, I sneak a few to bring out to the squirrels.
I wonder if there will be any walnuts left by Christmas.
When Emma was only about a year old, we took her for an outing at the beach one day.
What looked to us to be just tired sea grasses was probably a shoreline full of life.
“Did I see something move out there?”
“Whoah! Is that water closer than it was a second ago?”
“Are we safe here?”
“Okay, then. Just say the word, and I’ll go bring you that bird I saw down the beach.”
When I was just a baby, my older sister Ruby was the boss. She was always trying to tell me what to do.
One day, Anneli took my bed away, and I tried to claim what was left of it – just the inside part was left.
Ruby was playing the part of Miss Know-it-all.
Something moved out on the grass. Don’t forget, we’re hunting dogs. It’s our job to chase anything that moves.
But Anneli didn’t bring us food and she didn’t look like she was sorry for anything. She just laughed and said, “What are you doing in the wheelbarrow?”
Soon, while Ruby went to chase the rabbit, Anneli told me everything was okay. She had another bed fixed up for me on the deck. I tried for some compensation, but she didn’t go for it.
When she put me into the special bed on the bedroom deck, I was going to gloat a bit about how I had messed up her sliding door with nose prints. I was going to tell her, “Haha! So there! That’s what you get for making me worry about my bed,” but before I could tell her all that, I succumbed to the softness of the bed’s furry pillowcase, and off I went to Doggie Dreamland.
The squirrels have been harvesting hazelnuts from the trees and hiding them to be retrieved in the winter.
Along comes Woodrow the Woodpecker, innocently looking for bugs.
Ronald Rabbit knows the squirrels wouldn’t like their stash to be unearthed, but, “What to do? What to do?”
“Mind your own business, Ronald,” says Woodrow. “That’s “What to do’!”
“I’m telling,” shouts Ronald. “The people will let their dog out and then you’ll be sorry.” Meanwhile, I have one leg raised and ready to make a run for it.
“Look out, you guys! Here I come. And don’t forget! I may be a teddy bear in the house, but I’m a wolverine in the field.”
“Are you serious?” Woodrow calls to Ronald. “Now that the dog is out, we’ll all have to make a run for it.”
“Aw, do what you want. I’m going up here to higher ground and — oh! What have we here? A hole in the tree. Anybody home?”
And so life goes on … unless you’re a bug in that tree.
Tony lived across the street from us. He had a good long life there. For a while now, he has been reminiscing about his happy life and looking down on us all from doggie heaven. He is missed a lot.
wordsfromanneli 