Things that make me go BOOM!!!

Sometimes I go bump in the day. As you all know I am not a fan of loud noises and a holiday that is punctuated over several days of booms, cracks and bangs is not good at all. My family sympathetic to my plight have realized more is less, as in more medication equals a less neurotic dog.

 

I thought I could handle the onslaught on my senses, but I was wrong what can I say. I tried to fit myself under the couch and remembering my afore chronicled experience, I chose to stuff myself beneath the chair instead. I was not aware that a set of furniture constitutes equal proportions, fact noted, the bump on head I got from the chair a good reminder. Then I decide to forget the down stairs all together and went upstairs to my mom and dads room, where I tried to curl up underneath the bed where my parents store my sisters old crib. Well one caught foot and another bump on the head from the footboard while I beat a hasty retreat solidified this was not the place for me. 

 

Now, I know better then to get on the bed, I do, but with all the solid surfaces in our house conspiring against me I thought I would lie down on my sisters bed and sleep off the day. Well then there was a bang and a boom and I found my body catapulting it self off the bed landing on my sisters rocking horse. My mom walking by as I became airborne got to witness my best attempt of being a cowboy. Embarrassed by my 3-second ride, I turned tail to run and hit the dresser completing my hat trick of bumps in just under an hour. I felt like I had accomplished a lot for the day, considering my state of well being I was handling it all pretty well. Mom seeing that I was in desperate need of some medicinal courage to get through the day, offered me a little something to take the edge off.  I am going to blame being over stimulated on the effect said medication had on me. Lets put it this way I didn't have any edges to take off, I was the equivalent of  Jell-O with out the advantage of being refrigerated. 

 

When my friend Olive arrived for the 4th of July celebration I was doing my best impression of a slack key guitar and let me tell you I could really shake that thing. Sadly, I didn't really have control of the swing I was doing. I must say for once I was grateful that Rome is a leaner. I didn't feel so bad about leaning on our guests, since they are already used to Rome using them as a leaning post. I was also glad Olive was in a pretty chill state after spending 2 days at the beach and her dietary adventure from the day before. This was the positive reinforcement I needed to not feel bad about not being the life of the party. 

 

As the night wore on and the noise increased I retreated and headed as near to the largest inanimate object in our house (the sofa) as I could. The sofa and I soon became friends agreeing to call a stale mate until I was back in my true form and not the drooling medicated mess I had become (I wasn't really drooling, at least I don't think I was). I tried to get excited about the pretty lights in the sky but all I could see was the intro to a James Bond flick, how any one lived through the psychedelic 60's is beyond me. After the festivities had end and our guest had gone home I made my way up the stairs climbed into my soft round bed and slept off my adventure. The next morning I was right as rain and ready to go to work and sleep. Until next time things decide to BOOM!!! RUFF!!!

Tony =Trouble

Well, I was just chatting with my mom in Minnesota. She was telling me about her dog, Tony, chasing the prairie dogs all over their property. They own 160 acres so there is no end to the mischief that Tony can get into. I was chatting with my mom as she was working out in her yard she began to laugh. When I asked what was so funny, she said, "just her silly little dog."

You see, Tony was a gift to my mom from her husband. When she came to visit us in Hawaii last year, she returned home with gifts of Aloha and received a gift herself at the airport in the form of a new puppy that she could fit in the palm of her hand. Fast forward a year and a few months and Tony is now an 8 pound, 1.5 year-old full-grown Yorkie Terrier. He is bigger and bossier than a lot of other yorkie terriers we know. He loves cats and he would love them better if he could catch them.  He spends his time chasing them and loving them on the farm. He occasionally spends time at my sister's house with her two cats, Sassy and Charlie, who would both rather he never came over again. He chases them around the house barking and trying his best to catch them. He is a very vocal little chap and never seems to know when to be quiet. Oddly, he loves to be outside even in the dead of Minnesota winters. My mom is always worried that coyotes and birds will get him. Imagining my poor mom outside waiting and keeping a watchful eye on him as he disappears into the snow drifts, doing his best impression of a snowshoe hare rather than an eight-pound puppy, freezing his toes off in 30-below weather, makes me shiver. He is her faithful companion. He lays on the edge of her big, Roman tub while she takes her bath at night, barking at the bubbles. He loves his treats and eats like it is his last meal. He travels all over with my mom as she shuttles back and forth to Montana to visit my Grandmother and over to visit my sister and my little nieces. He goes out to feed the chickens and the geese with my mom and helps round up the farm cats out in the shed, barking at them, letting him know who is in charge. It is never a dull day with Tony around.

When my mom started laughing about her silly dog today, I wasn't surprised. She usually has a story to tell me about some crazy adventure Tony has had. Today's was prairie dogs. Tony was chasing them around the field and then realized that they live in a little hole in the ground. Well, being true to his breed, he began to dig, and dig and dig. My mom said she looked over and she just saw mounds of dirt flying in all directions as Tony attempted to dig out the prairie dog that had eluded him all morning. He was not aware that the prairie dog also dug and could dig itself an exit should this very thing happen. Tony, not understanding the ways of the prairie dog, was convinced he was going to dig him out. Then, he saw another one pop up out of a different hole and he ran over and began excavation on the new hole. My mom, having watched this for awhile, decided to give poor Tony a break and filled the two holes with water. Well, guess what happens when you add water to dirt?  Yep, that's right, you get mud! Tony doesn't mind getting dirty so he began to dig in the sloppy mess and then, not realizing he is not equipped with a built-in snorkel, began sticking his head under the water trying to check on his progress.  My mom didn't know if she should laugh or worry. She pulled him out of the muddy mess and headed for the wash sink. Tony, not yet done with his adventures, ran off, caked in mud. When my mom caught up with him, she took his picture and text it to me. I thought I would share it with you. Behold, Tony the Mud Puppy! 

Mom said it took her the better part of the day to catch him and get him washed and dried. Knowing my mom, I am sure she will be out in the garden chasing after Tony again before the week is over. Let's hope she watches out for all those prairie dog holes. Thank goodness for deep farm sinks and that my mom doesn't mind getting dirty. Let's hope she has many more years of chasing after Tony. Maybe as he gets older, he will let her catch him.