THE DOG

Of course, it was my idea.  Aren’t all those brainchildren mine??  She’s a beauty and so smart.  O.K. that’s the problem – too smart.  Skipper (Yes, that’s her name.) can be sooooo sneaky.  I mean, maybe just stubborn; but I had children that were stubborn and eventually it served them well.  I guess that means I shouldn’t give up hope yet.  She brings the paper in, but doesn’t always want to give it up.  She comes, sits,  and stays, but runs off when she gets the opportunity.  She follows me everywhere, but acts like a blithering idiot around other people.  I mean flippin out crazy.  We call her the Beast when anyone comes around.  Her manners are so bad around other people that she is not even allowed to be around anyone else.  I have learned to make her jump on the couch if anyone comes, so I can quickly snap the leash on her and tie her to the refrigerator door!  So far she hasn‘t pulled the fridge out the door!

Today was so bad I threatened her with the pound.  I don’t think she believed me.  Ah I love my dog.

Hey Lucky Dog

Fifteen years ago, a friend of mine had some mini wiener dogs for sale.  At the time, my grandmother had been diagnosed with high blood pressure and research was showing that having a pet would lower blood pressure.  I bought the dog; he was five weeks old and just nothing is cuter than a mini dachshund puppy.  The man and I drove to the city to my mom’s house where she and my grandmother (the Golden Girls) lived.  He was wrapped in a towel not more than 3 pounds when I handed him to my Mama Lou, but I should have known things would not go exactly as I thought.  I told her it was her Christmas present, and I never told her that I paid anything for him.  She was too tight for that.  Now Mama Lou loved Lucky, but the real dog lover in the family is my mom, and before long Lucky was sleeping with her at night because Mama Lou was just too fanatically clean to have a dog in her bed.  But not Mom.  Every night he would bury himself either under her covers down to her feet or under a pillow near her head.  He was so cold natured.  It was winter, and we thought it would be good to put a sweater on him when he went outside to keep him from shivering in the cold.  We squeezed him in to a too small sock.  He looked like a stuffed wiener, and by the time we got the dang thing off of him that idea was thrown out the window.

Lucky lived a long and enviable life with two grannies, but last week he died in my mom’s arms.

We will miss you Lucky.  You will not be able to be replaced (you ole philanderer).