tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8702179367762533722024-02-06T23:36:59.015-08:00Bo's BlogThe voice of a wirehaired Pointing Griffon speaking of his life on Starvation Lane, a ranch in Eastern OregonJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.comBlogger36125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-41139182050951940792014-02-08T15:12:00.002-08:002014-02-08T15:13:32.722-08:00Bo's Back<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I know, it's been ages since my mom let me write on my blog. So much has happened though! We got to visit my dad at the hospital in November. The nurses are really nice to us. They step over us when they're checking these long pasta-like things that go to my dad's arm. Caesar fits on the bed but I don't so I sprawl on the floor. My mom says it's much nicer having us there than stuck at home pulling toys out of the box and crossing out legs until she gets home to let us out! My dad is doing great! He had a TIA or a stroke. I don't know why a stroke would land him in the hospital because when my mom strokes me I'm, like, whoa, don't stop! But I guess my dad is different. Anyway, he was good enough to go to Mexico so I guess he recovered. The picture above was yesterday. We could still see the garden pots.<br />
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This is this morning. You can't even see the bottom of the pots now! But you can see my dad's shop (not yet finished as my mom keeps reminding him!) I guess he promised her it would get finished eventually. He does have a habit of not finishing things...For example he will start to feed us but then he'll forget to give us the treats when we've cleaned up our dishes!Ceasar has to come to him and twirl to remind him. And the little garden shed next to the big shop...it has to be moved but not until all the wood stacked beside it gone. Looks like a good winter for that!</div>
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My mom and dad were in Mexico for three weeks! They just got back. When they're gone we stay at Kristina's place. It's pretty cool. Lots of room to run around and we get to sleep in the house at night. The neighbors visit and call me "the rug" because my fur is so think. It's still snowing here...my mom says 24+ inches on the ground and coming down at about an inch an hour. They are going to take us to Kristina's tomorrow night because they are going to Florida!!!! I mean, really. Florida? They think we don't know it but I've seen the suitcases. And my mom talks about while they're visiting my "sister" Katy there, that my mom will be flying to Mississippi to give a speech at the state hospital honoring employees who spend their lives in service to those who are mentally ill, just like someone named Dorothea Dix who my mom wrote about. She decided it was closer to fly from Florida and back than to come home and fly from Oregon. I don't spend much time thinking about that since WE DON'T GET TO GO TO EITHER PLACE!</div>
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They get to fly around, find warm weather, while we stay with Kristina. Could be worse I know. We could be kenneled in a big cage inside a building with lots of other dogs barking and we aren't. My mom carries my big blue soft bed and Caesar's little soft bed out to the car and then we know for certain: they are leaving us. But they always promise they'll come back and when they do we almost knock them over with joy. We belong to each other and that's how you greet humans who are a part of your pack.</div>
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We hope you are all staying warm wherever you are and maybe I'll get to write more often. Guilt my mom so she lets me. Oh joy. Woof! Woof! Bo</div>
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<br />Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-62474385690185823152013-05-03T15:22:00.001-07:002013-05-03T15:22:13.033-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Boy, has it been awhile since my mom has let me post on my own blog! But she's been busy and just hasn't taken much time to stop and smell the roses. - or in this case the Christmas Cactus that is blooming right now. I think the cactus is a little confused too since it didn't put out at Christmas time. But here it is May and wow, it's a beauty!<br />
Since I posted last my dad has had three back surgeries and been really sick but his body is working now, not more breaks since December 28 and he is even driving a car again. Caesar and I spent a lot of time on the bed with him when he was so down and we looked after my mom too. Sometimes you have to do double duty as a dog.<br />
Then this spring we spent several days at our ranch on the John Day river. We sniffed out rabbits and ran over the birdbeak wildflowers and had a grand time. My mom had scrappers and workers and volunteers and relatives and friends and neighbors helping sort out stuff for the auction and what my dad said he wanted brought to our home in Bend. So we have a horse trailer full of "stuff" and a used U-Haul full of "stuff" and a flatbed trailer full of "stuff" that my dad says will all fit inside a new shop and garage he wants to build. My mom says it better fit! And she hopes it'll be in there before the neighbors start to complain about all the "stuff" in our yard.<br />
Meanwhile a new dog will be running over the hills and beside the river as my parents sold the ranch. My mom says it was the right thing to do and my dad agrees I think but we will all miss it. The new dog's name is Ole and he and Caesar and me all got along fine on a day they visited. I left him one of my toys and a bin for his food. I sure hope he enjoys it as much as I did. He has two boys to run around with him there and a pretty nice mom and dad, too.<br />
My mom has three new books out since I posted last but best of all is that she is finally taking a little time after caring for my dad and getting the ranch ready to sell to notice flowers blooming, even if it's Christmas cactus in May. I hope you take time to notice things too. That's the best way to get through a hard time and celebrate what you already have. Woof! Woof! Bo<br />
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<br />Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-29071075145584084332012-08-22T14:07:00.001-07:002012-08-22T14:07:54.040-07:00Missing my Pal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I've never had a pal like PurrBall (PB) before. When we lived on the ranch, PB stayed outside in a really nice house that my dad's kids built for him out of an old stereo speaker. They insulated it and roofed it and PB loved it though he'd sneak in as often as he could to hang out inside the house when I was there. But mostly he'd do what he's doing in this picture which is climb up onto my back and sleep. </div>
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When we left the ranch, my parents decided to have him, uh, neutered and then to let him become an indoor cat. He still had his outdoor house but now he also had a bed inside and a litter box and his special dish that sat on the piano so neither Caesar nor I could get into it. Gosh, we had a good time. Lots of times he slept in my bed with me.</div>
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About three weeks ago, he didn't come inside one evening. No one thought much of it. It's summer and he has a bed outside, too. But he wasn't there in the morning wanting to get in. He wasn't there in the evening either. Finally, after a couple of days my mom put his picture up around the neighborhood. She asked the neighbors and even met a neighbor she hadn't met before to tell him about PB. She visited humane societies in two towns (we live between them) and hung up posters and put a notice on Craig's list, too. She got a call from Craig's list but the cat the lady found had clipped ears and as you can see, PB's ears are the way they were when he was born, only bigger.</div>
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I miss him. I sniff the door to his house each time I go in or out. My mom says the scent of something evokes memories (whatever evokes means). I just know that when I sniff there I wish him home. Some have said maybe he just went away to die but he wasn't sick. I would have noticed. There are coyotes around and owls too. Someone else said maybe he traveled the 160 miles back to our ranch but I'm here! He wouldn't have gone all that way knowing the people and friends who loved him are waiting for him here. Maybe he wanted an adventure and he'll be back one day. My mom hasn't moved his food bowl off of the piano yet and she hasn't put away his kitty litter box either though she may as well. Without PB there's nothing interesting in that box anyway. My mom says there's an old proverb that says the last thing lost is hope. I'm hoping.</div>
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So the only thing I'd like to say is that if you have a friend you sometimes take for granted, don't. I just wish I could have one more day with my pal; one more day to let him sleep on my back, knead my side, sleep beside me. All I have now is a tiny little scent when I walk by his house. I don't know what RIP means on stones in those green places my mom calls cemeteries (I've gone with her to a couple), but for me it means Remembering is Painful. My mom says that in time, my memories of my friend will nourish and transform. I hope so. I hope they will for you too if you've lost a pal like PB. Until next time when I'm in a happier mood...</div>
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Woof! Woof! Bo</div>
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Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-40148556459072096302012-05-17T19:03:00.002-07:002012-05-21T13:33:19.278-07:00Happy Birthday to Me!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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My mom has not allowed me at the computer for months! But today is my birthday and she couldn't keep me away. I'm six years old which of course is 42 in dog years. Still living at home.... Anyway, she bought me this "thing." It looks like a soft pretzel but it's really hard. I'm considering what to do with it in this top picture.<br />
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Here you can see I've decided it's worth chewing. It's made in Oregon whatever it is...some kind of rawhide I guess. My mom's friend said to always look for chew toys made in America, something about testing etc. So my mom got me this and a couple of bones. Gee, I live a great life even though, at 42, I shouldn't be living in the bedroom of my mom's house; but here I am. Ceasar lives here too so it's not like I'm the only freeloader. And she says we bring her great joy.<br />
She's been sick for three months coughing and hacking and trying all sorts of remedies. I'm hoping she'll be well soon because she's almost too tired to take me for walks. But at night when she says "Time for bed!" and all the lights go out and we follow her and my dad into the bedroom, she lets me jump up on the bed if only for a minute. She nuzzles my face and scratches the side of my nose - a place that's hard for me scratch - and tells me how happy she is that I'm in her world. If she only knew...I feel the same about her.<br />
Hope your birthdays are happy times...thanks for stopping by. Woof! Woof! Bo.Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-23166612510702300022011-12-13T12:24:00.000-08:002011-12-13T12:24:41.465-08:00Blanket Bridge<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghU47EWg3jL9YkgkSrLVEk_icqRs385eF7npyPwscNnabHeOXQftk8jnf9pSEs4zuykEUy7xJ9eD0_88oyKsdXBohH-IODoJVW9NCLlNbanKJ0_DH-_T0FGYN39VjpxM7pRI1kGPsin-Tq/s1600/photo+blanket" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghU47EWg3jL9YkgkSrLVEk_icqRs385eF7npyPwscNnabHeOXQftk8jnf9pSEs4zuykEUy7xJ9eD0_88oyKsdXBohH-IODoJVW9NCLlNbanKJ0_DH-_T0FGYN39VjpxM7pRI1kGPsin-Tq/s320/photo+blanket" width="320" /></a></div>New things happening at our house! Remember when I told you about the zappy wire thing my mom put around the back 40 as she calls it. It had little white flags to show us where to stay to avoid the zapping ping. The white flags are almost all gone now but Caesar and I know that the "painful ping" is still there if we get too close. <br />
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For the past many months, when my mom wanted to go for a walk with us off the back forty, she put us in the car, backed the car out and then we jumped out to go for a walk with her. It was how we avoided the zapping pinging thing. When we came back, we popped back into the car then back into the garage. She was so careful to make sure we didn't get pinged.<br />
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"What happens if the car won't start?" we heard her ask my dad one day. "Or if it snows and we can't back out? How will I take them for a walk down the road?"<br />
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My mom and dad asked around. A friend said maybe put us in a little red wagon and pull us across. Another friend suggested putting a hood over our heads. I mean, please, a hood?<br />
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Then yesterday a neighbor said to put a blanket down and make up a command so we wouldn't be afraid. My mom selected "Safe!" She put a red blanket down, said "Safe" and then pulled us onto it. We didn't get pinged! And we had the best walk ever! When we came back I was a little hesitant but she said "Safe!" again and I stepped right on it. Wow! How cool!<br />
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I still don't know for sure what makes that blanket (that is sometimes on the bed so when we're dirty our feet get it dirty rather than the comforter) "safe." Maybe it has something to do with those collars we wear when we're in the back 40 but that mom takes off of us when we go for walks over the safe bridge. You think?<br />
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We're getting ready for Christmas too! Hope you are! Have a happy one. Bo, Woof, WoofJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-24893086462935709022011-11-07T09:59:00.000-08:002011-11-07T09:59:39.401-08:00Caesar's birthday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdpSrvQZ_D3_XbonlPaZyA6WYa9gsmTiwx45TsrRc6OWp2bS1JzZfqhqUdO5kVy_-VrbgLEtAZ8_Z094i1rVfyvaECfMjgNZrqlLOiR-8eREGBllpcPwEb4dHw-eOJEbhLcmyoJwsrmERT/s1600/Ceasar+and+book.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdpSrvQZ_D3_XbonlPaZyA6WYa9gsmTiwx45TsrRc6OWp2bS1JzZfqhqUdO5kVy_-VrbgLEtAZ8_Z094i1rVfyvaECfMjgNZrqlLOiR-8eREGBllpcPwEb4dHw-eOJEbhLcmyoJwsrmERT/s320/Ceasar+and+book.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
It's Caesar's birthday today! Here he is trying to keep my mom from working. It seems the only way to get her to close a book when she's researching is to cover it with our bodies. As soon as Caesar wakes up we're going to have a party. What a treat. I personally like hooves but Caesar likes bully sticks. Whatever, I bet there'll be toys and special food too. I hope you celebrate your birthdays. Caesar is three in human years but 21 in dog years. He could be on his own now but why would he leave the warm confines of Casa Court and my mom and dad's hugs. Hope you all have a great day and pray that I won't eat too much ice cream! Woolf Woolf! BoJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-28950276736305438562011-10-22T18:08:00.000-07:002011-10-22T18:08:11.304-07:00Fall Foliage<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8fk96OLXLOviCDDMzDV00YD0JW4YqH28kWpsuuXJTZ1BoRFLMVWUZLmdivPJvbMnUxqiw4wIHO7DZ3Sq82RsLghyphenhyphenRkf9nCE_QGZgsjLeQq_F2OBssYoqxQBUD50cuu8Yw3Fku-rkBjnw_/s1600/photo+%25283%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8fk96OLXLOviCDDMzDV00YD0JW4YqH28kWpsuuXJTZ1BoRFLMVWUZLmdivPJvbMnUxqiw4wIHO7DZ3Sq82RsLghyphenhyphenRkf9nCE_QGZgsjLeQq_F2OBssYoqxQBUD50cuu8Yw3Fku-rkBjnw_/s320/photo+%25283%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> It's fall in Central Oregon and we headed over the mountain for one of my mom's book signings. On the way back my mom made my dad stop so we could take pictures of the fall colors. My mom says it may not be Vermont but it's all we've got and she thinks it's pretty cool. Here's Caesar taking in the view. He had two baths yesterday: one because he'd visited a sheep barn and rolled in the old sheep doo-doo and the second when he found raccoon poo and rolled in it. I couldn't find either one of them! Dang!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> We'd spent the night at Simon's house in Salem, that's Caesar's brother. They have a birthday next week. I wonder if my mom will have a party. Caesar will be three! He has so much yet to learn!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Pg3vjW2bgSXL1nEWFXzirX-aX516DkoBTjmAACcdLpMtc-UiK7jmAtBZNKg5M9urenAYDBIMzO4cXrZOZ16CkekhyphenhyphensnSI98pjor4Vgf6ds5mu-lj0nXLPsvQIPGueNHyk-4YOap6HhvT/s1600/Yoga+Cat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Pg3vjW2bgSXL1nEWFXzirX-aX516DkoBTjmAACcdLpMtc-UiK7jmAtBZNKg5M9urenAYDBIMzO4cXrZOZ16CkekhyphenhyphensnSI98pjor4Vgf6ds5mu-lj0nXLPsvQIPGueNHyk-4YOap6HhvT/s320/Yoga+Cat.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> Then there's PB who has taken an interest in Yoga maybe because he doesn't get to travel with us. I think he calls this one "Downward Dog" or something like that. My mom noted there are 13 yoga studios in Central Oregon and maybe she should look into that as a relaxing form of exercise especially since her episode in the hospital with ulcers. I have no idea what ulcers are but we were home alone with dad for four whole days while she was tending to them. When my dad took us into the hospital to visit her, we couldn't find them anywhere so I'm not sure how they held her hostage there, but they did.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> I hope your fall is going well and full of lots of foliage. Maybe you could send us pictures my mom could put up on Facebook...or maybe here if she can figure out how to do it. Meanwhile, Don't let your downward dog get you down and don't let ulcers hold you hostage. Enjoy the fall foliage instead. Woolf! Woolf! Bo</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-12866182429364876192011-08-16T16:23:00.000-07:002011-08-16T16:23:35.068-07:00The Writers' LIfe is the Dog's Life too<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPQRW3ymzOPCrMFB4jFkMl-Fk-Agw6fAHc-fMyPFSlrigT5jEtZ7-7Yl-iQIH2DpXkh5xYAOYAEZ9U34rHjwS8W9uvh9LLHgkj0JP5OHRnoprPj_uopnkDdoSJiKIxpB7OE-HLIr4IFPbb/s1600/Bo+in+car.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPQRW3ymzOPCrMFB4jFkMl-Fk-Agw6fAHc-fMyPFSlrigT5jEtZ7-7Yl-iQIH2DpXkh5xYAOYAEZ9U34rHjwS8W9uvh9LLHgkj0JP5OHRnoprPj_uopnkDdoSJiKIxpB7OE-HLIr4IFPbb/s320/Bo+in+car.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
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This is what a writer's life is really like: boxes in the back of the car, a cart to haul them while me and Ceasar wait. Caesar's sleeping next to me. Then my mom speaks, she makes people laugh, then signs books and my dad loads stuff back into the car and we drive three hours or more home. My mom blogged about why she drives so far to meet readers. You might like the post though she didn't even mention me.<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><a href="http://stephaniebarko.com/2011/08/15/jane-kirkpatrick">http://stephaniebarko.com/2011/08/15/jane-kirkpatrick</a> Still I'd rather go with them than stay at home.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Except this last time when my mom and dad flew to Minnesota. They left us with Alena. She smells so good! She wears jeans and spurs and works with horses and dogs all day and has a business looking after people's animals when they travel. She fed PB and us and watered plants and it was cool. We all like her a lot.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">We haven't been able to run in the back forty much because of all the cheat grass. Caesar's visited the vet three times in one week to get those little weeds out of his ears. Now my mom puts cotton in our ears and we can play for about an hour and then she pulls us into the yard. It's a nice yard, though. My mom gave in, she said, and called the landscaper to clean out the big grass and weeds that we were hiding in a lot. Here's a picture of it after being cleaned out. The stones were made by her friends on the reservation.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh08pT4dfZ26hvG1cLExTFw58nuU3tnR0IWue0t5_rIezgk0Xp6KDt3w_CDGz09e-wNvAovBiK-Av8cGRU1tNfBt5j1_1eurimpWPNj_amqzvqd5dutRaEmQ2jsqsxYG5kLeKfiSxl9mzRR/s1600/Stones+along+the+sidewalk+4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh08pT4dfZ26hvG1cLExTFw58nuU3tnR0IWue0t5_rIezgk0Xp6KDt3w_CDGz09e-wNvAovBiK-Av8cGRU1tNfBt5j1_1eurimpWPNj_amqzvqd5dutRaEmQ2jsqsxYG5kLeKfiSxl9mzRR/s320/Stones+along+the+sidewalk+4.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My mom said she felt ten pounds lighter after the landscapers came. I don't know why. She ISN'T ten pounds lighter. Maybe if she'd pulled all those weeds she would be...but I digress. The landscapers also put stuff in the pond to kill the algae but it's safe so when I jump the gate before my mom catches me and plunge into the pond, I won't get sick.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">See the truck in the background? If you have any ideas about how to get rid of a pack rat living under the hood let me know. I've done my best to bark up under the truck but when we lift the hood only his nest is there. We need help!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I hope you have a good summer. Ours has been new and different but we're happy, even when we have to wait in the car. Woof! Woof! Bo</div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-38342374006131699272011-07-29T15:46:00.000-07:002011-07-29T15:46:14.683-07:00Cheat Grass and Edits<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuhZPpZyxNCFsvIhIfu2b66k-9xU3tdyKJol4gW5GnNQBU8zIl6z6cW0uUGXP7oRnhxtBy7FO_splNNmo_BHxMAiSrhNw_4rV89pQduxSBBrkNyJhp5Mm9cPlL86JBd_401qx5OftC3WV7/s1600/22+web.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuhZPpZyxNCFsvIhIfu2b66k-9xU3tdyKJol4gW5GnNQBU8zIl6z6cW0uUGXP7oRnhxtBy7FO_splNNmo_BHxMAiSrhNw_4rV89pQduxSBBrkNyJhp5Mm9cPlL86JBd_401qx5OftC3WV7/s320/22+web.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>This is one of the last pictures taken while walking with my mom in the back forty as she calls it. We learned to wear our collars, stay inside the white flags and not even chase the mules that ran right up to the fence. Now it's off limits. CHEAT GRASS! <br />
My mom has mowed a bunch of it, little cream-colored barbs that stick in shoes and inside my toes and ears. Caesar went the vet twice in one week to have his ears cleared. He had to be "put under." So we're stuck in the yard, back to dog parks and living in the house until fall when my mom has some seed company coming to spray the cheat. Hurrah. Those little barbs make a misery of fur. But meanwhile, the rabbits and chipmunks we like to chase are sitting on the other side of the fence chattering at us because we can't come "play" with them.<br />
I've been so preoccupied with cheat that I haven't convinced my mom to let me blog. But today she finished her "edits" she calls them. She sits for long, long hours at the computer taking tiny little taps changing "He said" to He scratched his chin" or vice versa. She's cutting words but choosing better words she says. She finds words she repeated too much and has to delete them. She added a couple of scenes she said...I don't know what scenes are. Her editor put notes in the margin and she answers those she tells us, promising to work just a few more minutes and then we can "go for a walk." She's started spelling "w-a-l-k" so Caesar won't get too excited but I know what those letters mean. And she's still sitting there after four hours with me lying in the doorway so she can't get out without my knowing it.<br />
We've also seen some changes in our grassy yard. It was a great jungle with tall grasses and places to look for lizards chasing them under the decks but then she had some people come in who spent the day digging and tossing out things they called weeds. She says it feels like she's lost weight seeing that yard cleaned up so nice. I don't tell her that she hasn't lost weight. I'm just glad she's happy because that means she'll be letting us outside more often and maybe she'll even stick cotton in our ears and let us run in the back forty if only for a minute or two.<br />
Hope you get to run in your back forty! Woof! Woof! BoJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-7348030101903143142011-06-07T12:51:00.000-07:002011-06-07T12:51:47.513-07:00From wildflowers to Woof Woof!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheh4Rl5JyYYfVOpEszS3rnfhGfE_835SEif9stqF8rwEqdCmO28SPOQdJwWZQzsdsph-b67kpTgIreWm_z3dofLqBHOM5fhmz5grxyG1zpJ0Lz3veVhLwg0JTsenwo_XDXtvcHVYLVVt1u/s1600/yellow+flowers+2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheh4Rl5JyYYfVOpEszS3rnfhGfE_835SEif9stqF8rwEqdCmO28SPOQdJwWZQzsdsph-b67kpTgIreWm_z3dofLqBHOM5fhmz5grxyG1zpJ0Lz3veVhLwg0JTsenwo_XDXtvcHVYLVVt1u/s320/yellow+flowers+2.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><br />
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I'll tell you, it's been a cool summer so far. Lots of rain and mud, oh how I love it.<br />
My mom had a woman come with a camera and she took lots of pictures of us. In a couple of weeks I'll put one or two up here. My mom called it a Photo Shoot but I didn't see any guns anywhere, just that camera. It was fun. We had to get a big bath at a new place the day before and we looked really good before the "shoot".<br />
A little while ago, the sun came out and look what my mom found. A wildflower and she caught me in her little camera too in the back, running in what my mom calls "the back forty." <br />
To run there, Caesar and I have to wear those collars I was telling you about but it isn't bad, not really. As long as we stay away from those white flags. Well, Saturday, I just couldn't. My mom was off to someplace called Salt Lake City and my dad had friends staying here and he and Ken drove away in the car leaving me with the woman, Nancy, and I couldn't take it! So I ran through the white flags!<br />
I heard the warning beeps but I couldn't stop myself. It was the irresistible pull of irrational behavior (my mom says there is a book with that title) and I ran through it. Yowser! I felt a jolt but I kept going, running after my dad's car. <br />
He saw me in the mirror he said. He was driving again! That's something new since all his time with the doctors, hospital and lately something he calls "cardio rehab." He stopped and I got in. He drove me back and I had to stay at home. It's so hard to stay home! So I chewed my bone, chased PB around for awhile then let Caesar have the bone. That's the best way to get over a misery, get generous (though PB might wish I'd done that earlier.)<br />
Here's a picture of PB making up with me though. You can't tell, but he's grooming me.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWYFvPKzXicRfStb2TD7r5YSybk2xXW44dzE-erWI2mXD5vBcUZYdnggSafIr5EMJ0E2AwbI5RhGwN2D3DsYjuGCJIAuBIcfegLzvh4UEeFrEbyrPbCRs2U80aNju7_hO9P5XgbcoT94KV/s1600/pb+grooming.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWYFvPKzXicRfStb2TD7r5YSybk2xXW44dzE-erWI2mXD5vBcUZYdnggSafIr5EMJ0E2AwbI5RhGwN2D3DsYjuGCJIAuBIcfegLzvh4UEeFrEbyrPbCRs2U80aNju7_hO9P5XgbcoT94KV/s320/pb+grooming.jpg" width="239" /></a></div>And here's the real treat: that little house there, it's in the back forty and underneath it lives something warm and furry. It's how Caesar and I spend our days now, trying to get under there and see what it is. Life is so wonderful. I hope you keep having things that attract your attention and good friends who forgive you when you mess up too much. Woof Woof! BoJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-7919485939890653452011-05-16T15:36:00.000-07:002011-05-16T15:36:06.609-07:00Strange Goings On<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN8zVCQVJtvBrDGaIh7nXKMAyg0qYycKrjbh1OrrMlVF36ZnKYGQnQ0pJBQ_ILytZOIp3xmGqb8agTyHMfOqAaTZKFeB4xUMWit15j2Bxi1NSBYZhkwR3eu3qRakyUAvSl0x4x_QtrDzSj/s1600/Bo%2527s+flags.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN8zVCQVJtvBrDGaIh7nXKMAyg0qYycKrjbh1OrrMlVF36ZnKYGQnQ0pJBQ_ILytZOIp3xmGqb8agTyHMfOqAaTZKFeB4xUMWit15j2Bxi1NSBYZhkwR3eu3qRakyUAvSl0x4x_QtrDzSj/s320/Bo%2527s+flags.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Last week a truck arrived with a picture of a dog on the side above some letters my mom said read "DogWatch" and a guy got out with a machine that began to dig a trench (I would have dug it if he'd let me!) Then he put spaghetti in the trench and covered it up. Well, my mom says it was wire and the trench and wire went all the way around the back of our property and around the garage pad too. My mom says it reminded her of when she and my dad buried seven MILES of phone line, digging a trench, twice! But it got them a phone at the ranch at last.<br />
Meanwhile, back at home. The next day, along the trench, little white flags showed up. A woman came and put them beside rocks and next to old juniper trees, all the way around the back field I really, really like. Right now there are white flowers blooming in the desert which is what my mom calls it. After the flags were set, Caesar and I got new collars. It was all very exciting.<br />
Then the lady took me around that field I just love with all the rabbits and mice and lizards and sagebrush and rabbit brush and old juniper trees, some all old with moss on them. It's my favorite place with a million smells and whenever my mom didn't notice, that's where I'd run to and not come back for sometimes half an hour! But this time I was on a leash with the new collar and the lady wanted me to look at the flags. If I got too close, she said "Danger" and I stopped. I'd never heard that word before but the tone of her voice is the same as when my mom says "NO!" when I get too close to the dinner steaming on the table top.<br />
But then once I did get close to the flags and I could hear a beeping. I ignored it because on the other side of the Danger flags was a deer trail, I'm just sure. But wow! When I put my nose past the flag I not only heard the beep but I got zapped, like when PB the cat whacked my nose once. Not something one ever wants to do again.<br />
Pretty soon both Caesar and I figured out that the Danger Flags were meant to keep us inside the field and as long as we did, we wouldn't have to worry about being zapped. Well, why didn't they just say so? We love that field. <br />
My mom's been taking me along the flags every day now and I stop plenty short of them. Caesar stops short and turns his back to them to make sure those danger flags don't zap him again either.<br />
My mom even took me to have my hair trimmed so I could see those flags better. And both Caesar and I got a bath and lots of scrubbing and we look pretty cool. So far my mom hasn't gotten a good picture of us yet she says. Soon, we'll be able to run in that field without a leash, just like at a dog park! And we'll be right at home. Woof! Woof!<br />
My dad's doing well too. Every other day now my mom drives him someplace where he says he walks on machines like the one in our sun room and has other machines to make him stronger too. He isn't able to take me on a leash yet because I get too excited and could pull him over. Danger, Danger, that would be!<br />
But he laughs now and he sits on the back deck while my mom takes me on the Flag walk and we're getting to really like this place even though it doesn't have a river running through it. Everyone has to make adjustments. He doesn't like to use his cane but he says it's there to protect him for awhile. Just like our Danger flags! That's just the way life is my dad says. He's making lots of adjustments and he has danger flags too he says, they just aren't so easy to see.<br />
Caesar also got to go on a walk away from the flags with his little brother Simon and my mom and her friend, Simon's mom. They came to visit. They were raising money for Habitat for Humanity and promoting my mom's book too. I stayed home with my dad but here's a link to the TV news story about their walk. Caesar got to be on television! Next time, it'll be me. <br />
Woof Woof to you all. <br />
Bo <span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', serif; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: #1111cc;"><a href="http://www.google.com/url?sa=X&q=http://www.ktvz.com/news/27904104/detail.html&ct=ga&cad=CAcQAhgAIAAoATAAOABA9qXG7gRIAVgBYgVlbi1VUw&cd=-LUnSltExyM&usg=AFQjCNF6FFDqTXAMP84XN_PXtYRuiARCug">Author Inspires Sunriver Charity <b>Walk</b></a>.</span></span><br />
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</span></span>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-52617838908532744242011-04-26T10:33:00.000-07:002011-04-26T10:33:01.209-07:00An attack of the heart<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisxGbwNonsNHbF9zchDLqIizWYnzk4zzkQwYmex4lH5M7P7hbJbWPwSQjXBGB31iQ-xv1UGdka-ckN4_W2WLvxC_4TuIYoq88E-To9AHH15BNFZWewjghCcmfSv2yKxPJ0AL8HGHw8BWCU/s1600/photo+-+2++Jerry+and+Katy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisxGbwNonsNHbF9zchDLqIizWYnzk4zzkQwYmex4lH5M7P7hbJbWPwSQjXBGB31iQ-xv1UGdka-ckN4_W2WLvxC_4TuIYoq88E-To9AHH15BNFZWewjghCcmfSv2yKxPJ0AL8HGHw8BWCU/s320/photo+-+2++Jerry+and+Katy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
The last time my mom let me slobber on the computer I told you that my dad's daughter was coming to visit after his stroke. Well, she did. That's her on the left and I'm trying to get her attention. Anyway, the very next day....we had lots more excitement.<br />
Right after lunch my dad got sick and he said it was what Katy gave him to drink, some "healthy" stuff. After that, he complained about "gas." Now, I know about gas. I can clear a room in five seconds. Even Caesar can clear a room and he's a quarter of my size. Well, my dad didn't clear a room but he said his stomach hurt a lot. So my mom called the doctor and she raced into town to get some medicine. Caesar and I rode along. THEN, he said his chest hurt but he was sure it was gas and to give the medicine time to work. I hung out in their room and Caesar curled next to him on the bed.<br />
In the evening, Katy went to bed and my mom was at the computer when my dad called to her. She went right in to him and he said now his heart was doing very strange things so she said we were going to the emergency room. We know where that is. We were there two weeks before.<br />
But she didn't take us. Instead they hurried into the garage and into the car. But it wouldn't start! So they got into the truck. Now, I always go with my dad when he's in the truck but not this time! What was happening?<br />
My mom got the truck into gear and off they went.<br />
About three hours later my uncle Ellis arrived to get my aunt Katy to take her to the hospital. They left us home again! They said something about the doctors stopping his heart and getting it started again and that he was having a stent placed, whatever a stent is.<br />
Finally, almost when the sun was coming up, Katy and my mom came home. My dad had had something called a "heart attack". I didn't see anything attack his heart. I would NEVER let anything attack my dad. Neither would Caesar but this time what attacked his heart came from inside it. Well, a dog can't be expected to do anything about that!<br />
The next day we got to go in and see my dad because this hospital allows "pets" (such an uncommon name for how grand we really are) visit their parents even in intensive care. My mom took a picture of us in there but I didn't like how I looked so I'm not using it. Instead, we're using this one where you can see that my dad is doing pretty well now that he's home. Lots of people come here to have him do things. My aunt Katy stayed extra days so my mom could do her work with her new book.<br />
I'm sure glad my dad made it and that my mom knew how to drive the big truck. And I'm REALLY glad that we live close enough to that emergency room place. Otherwise my dad might not be alive. At least that's what my mom says. Two assaults on his body in two weeks, that's a lot of misery.<br />
We are happy to have my dad back home recovering from that stroke and heart attack. We'll give him extra hugs and be careful when he's walking with his walking stick around the house so he doesn't fall. We'll stay on the look out for anything that might attack his heart. Love your masters because you never know when something might attack them that you can't see.Woof! Woof! BoJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-8179669825720054582011-04-11T11:29:00.000-07:002011-04-11T11:29:29.294-07:00A Big Red Truck comes to our New House<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqfKL3DlJLywtAtPow332sJZSNGN5eOw7LXRyKkJIfqMsc_YXg5onTrA2vHlp9H0krW7Cy7Ya501BAKLRUjbBHKPlnN-gGuod7L9dFaOkGdlZjJ07bXQZpaoMBaPnDMfxdUPQOgF8-5wDw/s1600/photo+Bo+and+pals.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqfKL3DlJLywtAtPow332sJZSNGN5eOw7LXRyKkJIfqMsc_YXg5onTrA2vHlp9H0krW7Cy7Ya501BAKLRUjbBHKPlnN-gGuod7L9dFaOkGdlZjJ07bXQZpaoMBaPnDMfxdUPQOgF8-5wDw/s320/photo+Bo+and+pals.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
It's been awhile, I know. My mom's been on the computer finishing her novel and hasn't let me on it to keep you posted.<br />
Much has happened at this new place. There's almost as much excitement here as on the ranch. First of all, last month, a big red truck with flashing lights showed up at our door. I was inside with Caesar sleeping in my mom's kennel she calls her "office" when my dad shouted for her and we all went running. <br />
When we got to the bedroom my dad looked strange and he said he couldn't make his legs work and he started to sound like he had a mouth full of ice cream because my mom couldn't understand him. So she helped him to bed then got on the telephone! I mean, mom, on the phone? When dad's like, weird?<br />
Well, after the phone call she put us outside so we watched everything else through the bedroom sliding door. Pretty soon the red truck arrived with three guys carrying suitcases. I guess she must have called them.<br />
I don't like suitcases. It means someone is going away.<br />
Sure enough, my dad got something stuck in his nose and a needle in his arm and then he was on a skinny little bed and they wheeled him out the door. My mom rushed around, grabbed her purse and I wondered if she'd remember us out there looking in.<br />
She did! We hopped in the car and spent most of the day there at this place called an emergency room (where the red truck was parked in front of). She came out a couple of times to give us water and walk us but we were fine in the car. I like leather seats and it's a cool kennel to hang out in.<br />
Finally, my dad came home and I licked his face. But he isn't the same as when he left. He uses a cane now and he goes to a place for "PT" they call it (sounds like PB the cat to me!) and Speech. My mom says he had a lacuna stroke. I personally like to be stroked but I don't think that's what this is.<br />
So different people have been staying with us and my dad while my mom goes off with her suitcase to "promote her book". We used to go with her and my dad when they did that but not now.<br />
I'll keep you posted but just know that the three of us -- me, Ceasar and PB -- are being real careful not to trip my dad or rush past him 'cuz he's sort of unstable my mom says. We'll keep an eye on him. He knows we have his back.Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-12631565954642099252011-02-14T19:01:00.000-08:002011-02-14T19:01:08.262-08:00Home Again at last<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgvMU8Et5Oy-IihjtrE7U1pS-BmGiINzX3fFRQkDvCzPluN0uYHIDIn9GIwt90fcCYuOR-bUjml8jOla3GoQfskF42WVPXeZmAI6vH8I1oeqy9OfAHdH6_ycQhH7_ICy54_nvz_mFkAYVC/s1600/photo++Bo+on+rug.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgvMU8Et5Oy-IihjtrE7U1pS-BmGiINzX3fFRQkDvCzPluN0uYHIDIn9GIwt90fcCYuOR-bUjml8jOla3GoQfskF42WVPXeZmAI6vH8I1oeqy9OfAHdH6_ycQhH7_ICy54_nvz_mFkAYVC/s320/photo++Bo+on+rug.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />
I'm back home at last! My parents finally got back from Baja. Both of them are sick and coughing. My mom's on stuff called antibiotics and she can hardly talk to me without hacking away. My dad sneezed until his back hurt so he's been in bed a lot too. I have to go outside sometimes just to give my ears a rest from all the coughing at our house. So much for vacations. I hope I don't get it! I had a great time at the ranch!<br />
<br />
But here I am on a Navajo rug and I'm where I need to be, with them, my mom and dad.<br />
<br />
I did enjoy their vacation because I was at the ranch almost every day playing with Rex and sometimes Charlie and Toby, too. PB the cat was also there and now he's back home too. I'm getting used to calling this place in Bend "home" even though my whole life has been at the ranch. Until now. But my mom says things change and that's what living looks like. So I see that I need to change too.<br />
<br />
Today my mom took me for a walk on BLM land. Wow! Lots of new smells there! Rabbit brush and sage and rim rocks and sage rats and ground squirrels and the wind blew sand and dust and juniper trees creaked. With only a few steps from the house we were able to see the mountains and then no other houses at all! It was like we were at the ranch with no neighbors. She hasn't let me off the leash yet though. I think she's afraid I'll chase the neighbor's mules. What she doesn't know is that yesterday when I was outside with my dad for just a minute, I did chase the mules! But they chased me right back so I don't think I'll be going there again any time soon.<br />
<br />
Here's a picture of PB and Caesar. I missed Caesar! And PB is one happy cat now that he's become an indoor Tabby. We're all together in one place on Valentine's Day! I hope you had a happy one! Woof! Woof! Bo.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCbbch7E-NLwLP__Mv4FMcYQR6y-84FD4aRIdFmc-Elu10FhwoM3QN5aPc4eY7ufgmSKGvDiehBWXWQ9zLdDJLDw51K6_YQkwN8KWLNfLabQQOoQb8a2fuxo61dam4iiRuFkKKKhVmwOci/s1600/photo+ceasar+and+PB.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCbbch7E-NLwLP__Mv4FMcYQR6y-84FD4aRIdFmc-Elu10FhwoM3QN5aPc4eY7ufgmSKGvDiehBWXWQ9zLdDJLDw51K6_YQkwN8KWLNfLabQQOoQb8a2fuxo61dam4iiRuFkKKKhVmwOci/s320/photo+ceasar+and+PB.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-30410624388852124252011-01-07T08:56:00.000-08:002011-01-07T08:56:44.231-08:00Abandoned at the ranch<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiHjt_OuxxLUXHsWcLLNACtCJKKC0Ay9NpX0qVX2N1D71Ymx0LKvs5EPUGpbin0IR8dWXzrRawdBkFWXZE_ac8ttB49xWL1BSh0vkP_w7cqbYsVCe2-Z9rRu5BfmlTnZ37GN46aYafjs6F/s1600/Bo+and+BP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiHjt_OuxxLUXHsWcLLNACtCJKKC0Ay9NpX0qVX2N1D71Ymx0LKvs5EPUGpbin0IR8dWXzrRawdBkFWXZE_ac8ttB49xWL1BSh0vkP_w7cqbYsVCe2-Z9rRu5BfmlTnZ37GN46aYafjs6F/s320/Bo+and+BP.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Hi. I wanted you to know that I got to visit the ranch with my dad! As soon as the truck turned down the steep-as-a-cow's-face grade, I sat up and smelled the river. Ah, heaven. Wow, it was so cool coming home. Rex was there, my "brother's" dog. He had surgery before Christmas but we could play and wrestle. <br />
Not that I don't like our new place, I do but there's nothing that can replace a river with slivers of ice at the edge and geese (hundreds of them) sitting on open water or on the flat fields beside it. <br />
This time, my dad also brought PB, my cat buddy along. I'm not sure why...but he and my mom were talking about something called "Cabo" and packing suitcases and how they couldn't leave PB in Bend because he'd feel abandoned. Abandoned? Where are they going? What are they saying?<br />
I forgot about it when I got to the ranch. The litter box and PB's house and my ear drops and anti-fungal medicine and some weird wash my mom puts in my ears once a week all came along. PB isn't used to travel so he howled the entire way but once we got to the ranch he ran right up to his old food bowl on the deck. But here's the amazing thing: my dad let him sleep inside the house! And use the litter box! My mom says this is a sign that even octogenarians can adapt. I don't know what an octogenarian is. Someone related to an octopus?<br />
So my mom didn't come along and neither did Caesar. Toward the end of the second night with just "the boys" at the ranch, I realized this was not a good sign. Me and the cat here with my dad; mom and Caesar in Bend. Hmmmm.<br />
This morning my dad packed up again and told Matt to look after me good and said I couldn't go with him this time. I couldn't believe it! I pulled against my collar Matt was holding and as soon as the door closed and he released me I slammed against the door. It didn't budge. I could hear my dad walk away! Oh my heart ached! Is this what abandoned means? <br />
But as soon as the truck rolled out the driveway without me Matt let me out of the house and Rex came over and we rolled down the hill and then PB came out and washed his face on the deck and climbed up on me. Friends are what you need when you feel abandoned. My pals helped me remember that I was here, at the ranch, my favorite thing! Well one of them anyway and I couldn't afford to be sad when I had friends and a good place to play right in front of me. Matt and his wife will come stay with us here or they'll take us home with them until my mom and dad come and get me. So I guess I'm not abandoned only left behind for a time.<br />
Boy will I have stories to tell Caesar! Guess he'll have a few to tell me too because he's going to stay with his brother and sister at the breeder's house. We're all going on vacation! But I get to go on vacation at the ranch and there's no better place than home. Woof Woof! BoJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-48543722554164814142010-12-23T17:07:00.000-08:002010-12-23T17:07:26.340-08:00Dogs Catching up and Catching On<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn85FVZ12N815ETX49zHQ9dLcltYKRdXgJ5yzYcxCcxZX003PDpM1kRPtg8pLWI6sNf9Ji9RTI0KEROlEupiJoIpPVAChPFo83bK5F45JsVoLEKx3rU5GfZKG2U42AvCUtZkGV7HwxmMV6/s1600/The+move+056.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn85FVZ12N815ETX49zHQ9dLcltYKRdXgJ5yzYcxCcxZX003PDpM1kRPtg8pLWI6sNf9Ji9RTI0KEROlEupiJoIpPVAChPFo83bK5F45JsVoLEKx3rU5GfZKG2U42AvCUtZkGV7HwxmMV6/s320/The+move+056.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><br />
Look at that deer! Oh, she looks calm and peaceful now but she's part of a herd that harasses me and Caesar! I find tracks in the snow right down our driveway! The other day, she charged at me. Well, I'd gotten out and tracked her down but she ran right up to me. I high tailed it out of there! But these are some of our neighbors.<br />
My mom's been so busy she hasn't let me on the computer lately. So let me tell you that we're moved in, sort of. Boxes are still in various places my mom says they shouldn't be. But I'm really liking my new bed and Caesar has a new bed too. We sleep right next to our mom and dad.<br />
And get this: PB, the cat, has become an indoor cat! He used the litter box for the first time this week and my mom danced around the sun room. 'Course, he'd peed on the guest bed when my "sister" Katy and her husband were here from Florida. And he peed on my mom and dad's bed and my dad caught him in the act! Mom says it's lucky he's still alive.<br />
But she went to Pet Express, got a litter box and special litter and he's been using it! I'm glad because he's my pal and he's always wanted to live inside with us. Now he is.<br />
We've also been seeing more visitors. The cable guy has come, the garbage truck, the mail man comes right up to the door and rings the bell! Today UPS came right up to our door! My mom is" agog with convenience" she says. I'm also having some ear problems and the trip to the vet was only 15 minutes instead of an hour so that's good too.<br />
I've met a couple of the neighbors and their dogs. They're nice people. Today when my mom took a box of goodies (she makes home made cracker jacks) to a neighbor, they gave us a plate of cookies. My dad had one; my uncle Ellis (here helping hook up the ice maker) ate one and I.....ate all the rest before they noticed! Wow, I love Christmas, don't you? I hope you have a merry one. My friends Rex, Charlie and Toby will be here on Saturday. That makes five dogs under one roof. I can hardly wait. Woof! Woof! Bo<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMqTM4rXhrN0c0-1WtE7Nl-hhkMSUDT7bNE0BCBXc5xBXqelHwnyNjgDBxVDmOJEtv6OqJu7jsfjr2YhnO8Q7KKjThgn0vtz13DBuHBstgvaUc0-sk6PfdbFe8fhm0Gra-I1ElV3s2Ikf6/s1600/The+move+055.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhMqTM4rXhrN0c0-1WtE7Nl-hhkMSUDT7bNE0BCBXc5xBXqelHwnyNjgDBxVDmOJEtv6OqJu7jsfjr2YhnO8Q7KKjThgn0vtz13DBuHBstgvaUc0-sk6PfdbFe8fhm0Gra-I1ElV3s2Ikf6/s320/The+move+055.JPG" width="239" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">PB, newly-reformed and now, an indoor cat!</div>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-75235237497578416202010-11-13T13:18:00.000-08:002010-11-13T13:18:03.558-08:00Off to Aurora!Today I learned that "toss it" means something different to humans than I thought it did. When my dad says "Let's toss it!" to me, he's throwing a favorite toy for me to go catch. But around here it means "put it in a sack and out of sight." <br />
So far, they haven't gone through my toy basket and tossed anything. I'd better start hiding my favorites just in case. Sometimes my mom washes my favorites and that's almost as bad as not having it at all. Almost.<br />
But I adapt. That's what a dog does.<br />
This afternoon, though, things have changed a bit. No more packing (we ran out of boxes my mom says) and we're off to Aurora, (my favorite thing!). We get to run in a big yard while my mom talks with people at the museum there. I've been visiting that museum since I was a puppy. Well, I don't get to go inside but I know all the people there, Jan, Elizabeth, Patrick, Annette, and Pam (but she retired!). Lots of board members, too. They're all good to me. I haven't seen them since May for Emma's Day. Tomorrow, my mom will be at the Kraus House which is also known as Emma's house greeting people for the holiday tour. You all come! Maybe I'll get to meet you!<br />
Have a great weekend! Woof! Woof! BoJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-83852453751561959352010-11-12T19:57:00.000-08:002010-11-12T19:57:42.618-08:00Veterans Day the day after<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUxhlWbZphwjiHnzb6ouLIk7xJSIdEcX7ba_klsAQlG1DxUkkdZQK3o0unftwlZ9uKoC8WciFNtyyqOe189U4UVB82mnbql8XPRW8XYUzouwMmejjqIhsFTZqGWUTwCvqF6JC-sNGKt20J/s1600/IMG_0150+007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUxhlWbZphwjiHnzb6ouLIk7xJSIdEcX7ba_klsAQlG1DxUkkdZQK3o0unftwlZ9uKoC8WciFNtyyqOe189U4UVB82mnbql8XPRW8XYUzouwMmejjqIhsFTZqGWUTwCvqF6JC-sNGKt20J/s320/IMG_0150+007.jpg" width="239" /></a></div><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">I tried to get up here early but my mom's office looked like an explosion of boxes and books and things she said "were going to the Salvation Army."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I figured I'd stay out of the way...I didn't want to be one of those things that got packed!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My mom said it was Veterans Day yesterday when humans celebrate the end of a long a terrible time of war.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's different from Memorial Day when we remember fallen soldiers and friends who have gone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(My friend Hershey passed on to that big rainbow bridge just last week.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His parents have a hole in their heart).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom says Memorial Day is a more somber time but Veterans Day is a time to sing because there was peace in the land. Mom says there isn't peace in the land today but it's still a good thing to sing for and we can remember veterans, too. My dad is a veteran. He was in the Navy. He looks pretty good for someone who turned 80, I think! He took me pheasant hunting just last week. It was cool. </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>We didn't see any parades or anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We were packing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom gave Caesar and me new hoofs to chew on so we'd get out of the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Mom and Matt are sorting books and coughing from the dust on the Zane Grey novels or the books on writing or the books marked "I haven't read these yet."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She said when her aunt moved that she had boxes labeled "Books I have only read once."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There's hardly a place to lay down in that room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Caesar can fit under her desk but not me!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My dad's back is hurting him quite a bit so he's resting but that doesn't stop my mom from packing stuff around him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There's hardly room on the bed for me to lay down either!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> My friend Simon came to visit, too. He brought his mom and they've been packing and packing. Simon is Ceasar's brother. They're little and I watch over them.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Oh, now my mom's sat down and she looks sad.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She's looking at a picture of her dad, she said, one taken when he was a young man standing beside his airplane.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He learned to fly when she was little.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then she found a picture of him shortly before he died and she read a card she'd saved sent to her by her "groupies" she called them because they called themselves that.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She says she's not making any headway in her office even with the dozens of books marked "Powell's" which I guess is someplace in Portland. Her friend Nancy is going to take books there and get cards so mom can buy more books once we're "moved."</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Moved.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>That's the word describing all this chaos and emotion with tears and yes, a little shouting too, and then hugs and apologies and my mom and dad hold each other and say, "It'll be all right.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It's a transition."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I'm not sure what a <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">transition</i> is but it sure seems to be making them behave in strange ways.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why, my mom isn't even getting up early to write!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She writes when she "takes a packing break."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I wonder how long this will go on....</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Have any of you been in a transition?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How does it end?????<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bo, Woof, Woof.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(See, even I'm confused.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think I'm supposed to Woof, Woof before I sign my name!) </div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-76956028129039175672010-11-11T11:51:00.000-08:002010-11-11T11:51:11.077-08:00Something's Going On<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>She started talking to the pear tree, something about how she'd miss it and remembering out loud when she first noticed it, sitting on the porch swing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She usually talks to me, my mom does, but today, it was the tree.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Some pretty strange things have been going on around here.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>There are boxes everywhere and I smell a inky smell when she writes on the boxes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When she types on the computer, I don't smell a thing.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I try to stay out of the way so Caesar, PeeBee and I sit on the river deck and look out (PeeBee's is on my back, of course, his favorite thing).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every now and then she walks out and stands there staring then she reaches down and scratches my head and says "It's going to be all right, Bo.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It will."<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don't know if she's making a promise to me or to herself.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>This past week we drove to a place with juniper trees and sagebrush and my dad pushed a button on the car's visor and a huge door opened up to this massive kennel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or at least, I thought it was a kennel because it was all cement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But he drove the car in there!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mom said it would be nice to have a garage so<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>guess that's what it is.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>Up a few steps and we were in a big empty house with wood floors (my favorite thing!) and into a room where the sun flowed in like water onto cool tiles, warming them up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I could lay on my belly and look out onto a big green lawn on both sides of that room.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Caesar can see outside from those sunny room doors and he stands barely six inches from his belly to the floor. I can see without having to put my paws up on the sills.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What a place!</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>My mom and dad walked around, picked up some papers, turned up the heat, walked around some more, opened curtains then brought the suitcase inside along with two sleeping bags and a pretty pitiful pad that looked like the egg cartons my mom throws away. Still, when they put those sleeping bags together and went to bed on that pad, they were at the same level as Caesar and me and we curled our backs to them, wondering, what they were doing taking us to this place of new scents, different floors, low windows to the outside and a big deck without the view of the river but of craggy trees, sage, bunch grasses and air missing river and wheat but scents of something new.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>High desert, my mom called it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mountains, my dad said. " Coming back," they both said and they sounded happy but they both had tears in their eyes too.</div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span>It's all very strange.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I can't wait to tell PeeBee when we get back home.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcWXhR3JZfnznOZeVRJc9soYqNxpJ8zZTaa6tSHKy_F1U12qrZ6aGOM_G9dzbN3TjrlS3lMn0UZsEqC7xBroI3-2zguLh4pKijSaHIfJSfzSxezXBn8XBXeRYL36eL0z-8uVHX27iwAx5h/s1600/DSCN0221.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcWXhR3JZfnznOZeVRJc9soYqNxpJ8zZTaa6tSHKy_F1U12qrZ6aGOM_G9dzbN3TjrlS3lMn0UZsEqC7xBroI3-2zguLh4pKijSaHIfJSfzSxezXBn8XBXeRYL36eL0z-8uVHX27iwAx5h/s320/DSCN0221.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;"><span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span></div>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-37973982233588243832010-11-06T21:27:00.000-07:002010-11-06T21:27:49.256-07:00Letting a Cat Post<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Dear Mrs. Kirkpatrick,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I was trying to comment to Bo’s blog but I don’t think it worked—probably my typing. It’s hard with such short toes. <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Would you please tell him that I really liked his telling about cat cafes. Cool. As he knows, we have a sort of “moveable feast” here: I ask for food, one or the other of Them brings the dish out, I eat—that’s the Best part—, then They pick it up Old Yellow or Mean Black, the scroungy cats down the hill, don’t get my food. Makes a guy dizzy. Please give my best to Bo and Caesar, even if they are dogs.<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Yours very truly,<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><!--[if gte vml 1]><v:shapetype id="_x0000_t75"
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o:href="cid:224D9130E40F4A49B4265461CC039569@NancyPC"/> </v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><img border="0" height="149" src="file:///C:\Users\Jane\AppData\Local\Temp\msohtmlclip1\01\clip_image001.jpg" title="" v:shapes="_x0000_i1025" width="89" /><!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Duddie The Cat<o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />
</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: black; font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Ok, so I let a cat post today. Sorry his picture didn't come through but what can I say...maybe cats should be read and not seen. Woof! Woof! Bo</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-68242009245422572042010-10-26T14:54:00.000-07:002010-10-26T15:11:34.312-07:00Greece, Cats and Dogs<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqFqBwgedcPM3Ng1Bj3UIxunPAeWVddE8fySvi5iqj5Cuq7z4pZqEpqWix7iUvazeX_ZuZq3qxXN4ljQRg2cvbJW_gUWkb4y79M_buW9sFAvt7cKWpsnUjl_wFCBm-0Wka2k0CjZoo2Evu/s1600/IMG_0108+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqFqBwgedcPM3Ng1Bj3UIxunPAeWVddE8fySvi5iqj5Cuq7z4pZqEpqWix7iUvazeX_ZuZq3qxXN4ljQRg2cvbJW_gUWkb4y79M_buW9sFAvt7cKWpsnUjl_wFCBm-0Wka2k0CjZoo2Evu/s320/IMG_0108+001.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">cats leaving the Dutch restaurant on Crete so my mom and dad can sit down and eat</td></tr>
</tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwrTjjVek84Ugev9WPMmJ6ZRhs5d8S4zw-MXN_54ToLzad9o-ifcrZEbBCsWGULmGpNf9jcVYcMwbgUhsQ8CC-Q2B6MTE6LIGAeZYBzTU4La27RSOHtFtff3Vraxu577tSm64NKYEurHbx/s1600/IMG_0033+015.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwrTjjVek84Ugev9WPMmJ6ZRhs5d8S4zw-MXN_54ToLzad9o-ifcrZEbBCsWGULmGpNf9jcVYcMwbgUhsQ8CC-Q2B6MTE6LIGAeZYBzTU4La27RSOHtFtff3Vraxu577tSm64NKYEurHbx/s320/IMG_0033+015.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">dog resting on marble in Athens....what a cool place to get a belly scratch</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
There you have it! I haven't blogged for a month because my parents were in Greece and what do they bring back? A photograph of a dog and cats! <br />
The dog is alive. My parents are eating at an outdoor restaurant and this dog greets everyone walking down the street by rolling over and asking for a belly rub. I didn't ask my mom if she rubbed his belly...I mean, that would be disloyal if she did, wouldn't it? He looks pretty happy and I bet that marble was really cool.<br />
I was sure happy when they got home. Caesar stayed with his brother while they were gone and I stayed with Matt and Melissa and their three dogs, Rex, Toby and Charlie. They're real good to me but being home is just better.<br />
Now about the cat picture. My mom took lots of cat pictures because cats were everywhere on Crete, an island in the Aegean Sea where they spent a week in a little village. They liked the restaurant owned by a Dutch family and these are the chairs outside where the cats have full control. I guess there are "Cat Cafes" around the village where the cats are fed. Visitors to Crete are asked to please not feed the cats so they'll always go to their own cat cafe. That way, local people collect them if they're sick and take them to a vet and they have them neutered. (Been there, done that!) Cats lounge in window sills, sleep on chairs and my mom said every morning when they got up, there'd be a cat looking in the window at them.<br />
I picked this picture hoping you can see the cat under the chair AND the one leaving the other chair. What a great place to visit, really, with cats and dogs all around. Plus my parents must have done a lot of eating because most of the photographs are of cats in restaurants! You can see yet another shot if you subscribe to my mom's Story Sparks newsletter (see www.jkbooks.com) and pictures of Greece too on her words of encouragement blog on her website.<br />
PB, my yellow tabby buddy who sleeps on my back when I rest on the deck, missed mom and dad too but at least I could play with him when we stayed at the ranch. Otherwise, I was in Wasco where Matt and Melissa live. They have a nice place but no fenced in yard so I have to go out on a leash when I'm there. Vacations are nice for some people but they're not too cool for me. I like my family close at hand. So glad they're back! Hope your family is only a lap away. Woof! Woof! BoJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-57727314476773061702010-09-17T09:35:00.000-07:002010-09-17T09:35:35.307-07:00Friends and vacations<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTkIkuG3sZJheKRv3i50vbH1Dv91qlNL8X6dDkZnRcrmftc9InoYezdXFM54WgaZ9HpUcrthhLOCaBCFqX1OB0sCVQFFljQMZRwGfKw95v-BCVtamP_jDBE1OgkyuhyxCbXO9vaeH4WrnB/s1600/Barkley.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTkIkuG3sZJheKRv3i50vbH1Dv91qlNL8X6dDkZnRcrmftc9InoYezdXFM54WgaZ9HpUcrthhLOCaBCFqX1OB0sCVQFFljQMZRwGfKw95v-BCVtamP_jDBE1OgkyuhyxCbXO9vaeH4WrnB/s200/Barkley.JPG" width="200" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfJL0RV6ZI3uAFgdPL-wqQ3Rj2uayrF0ZIiElZTKOTt_3XLeb4zUt-7_S_3ZMCwBs6PadSvZ0DJi5zmxIDs6AnGfNGLildPgqe8wSOiv7NSB8cNHtnyl-KT78-uWJET78zePcpjbOVQLfR/s1600/DSCF3961.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfJL0RV6ZI3uAFgdPL-wqQ3Rj2uayrF0ZIiElZTKOTt_3XLeb4zUt-7_S_3ZMCwBs6PadSvZ0DJi5zmxIDs6AnGfNGLildPgqe8wSOiv7NSB8cNHtnyl-KT78-uWJET78zePcpjbOVQLfR/s320/DSCF3961.JPG" /></a></div><br />
<br />
Well here are two of my pals that I've never met. They're like "pen" pals only their pens are crates they might sleep in at night. Here's the thing: they're the buddies of friends of my mom. Barkley, on the left, lives in Wisconsin and Bart, on the right, lives in Washington state. Don't you love their eyes? I mean, a dog can tell by the eyes if the dog they meet and sniff will be a friend or foe. Both of these would be friends. We were all going to meet this fall along with Coco from Canada (I'm hoping for a photograph of her soon!) when people took some vacation time...well, maybe I was only going to get to meet the people and not their buddies. But plans change. That happens in a dog's world too and you just have to be flexible or as my mom would say, "you have to be able to change directions quickly without a lot of friction" just like a coping saw.<br />
<br />
My parents are taking another vacation! They're off to Greece for three weeks with out either me or Caesar!!!! I supposed they'll bring back some silly dog thing, a toy the shape of the Acropolis or Delphi or something when all I really want is them back. But they deserve a good vacation too. It's celebrating my dad's 80th birthday. I hope he has lots more years to play with me. Caesar will visit his brothers in Salem and I'll be here with my pals Toby, Charley and Rex. They like being able to crawl all over me...but they have to push PB, the cat, off my back to get on top. And they do!<br />
<br />
I hope you play hard, eat well and sleep often. Maybe that's what I hope for my parents on their vacation, too. Be well. Woof! Woof! BoJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-68985908396853785732010-08-30T17:16:00.000-07:002010-08-30T17:16:04.822-07:00My Dad's photograph and My latest dog connections<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNR7BJiuEGNFXgtjYXBRyiUfqpAuQyeRYmURY5xy6DWxsKGhwtO33A7jT0HSYlmxCJIOAWXnDLpLdC9lKB74QPSt7LoiYx_ceU_qrjL4Yk8XZIMZ44CavMOWwhNcStY1jVAkb2b1Cjq7zU/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNR7BJiuEGNFXgtjYXBRyiUfqpAuQyeRYmURY5xy6DWxsKGhwtO33A7jT0HSYlmxCJIOAWXnDLpLdC9lKB74QPSt7LoiYx_ceU_qrjL4Yk8XZIMZ44CavMOWwhNcStY1jVAkb2b1Cjq7zU/s320/001.JPG" /></a></div> My dad won a blue ribbon at the Sherman County Fair. No, it wasn't a picture of me. Here it is. My mom used it in her Story Sparks newsletter (you can sign up at www.jkbooks.com) too but that was before we knew it had won the blue ribbon. My dad's a modest guy and didn't want my mom to bother entering it. But see, it's a perfect shot with those clouds and the harvested wheat field and windmills. The area in the front is called a scab patch. It can't be farmed but let me tell you, it harbors great things like pheasants and little lizards and mice and all kinds of intriguing things.<br />
My mom left me at home for a week with my dad while she had book signings and events on the Oregon Coast. That was kind of hard, to see her drive off with Caesar and not me. But my dad's back was hurting him so I kept him company at home.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRhg0lVSyk9EO-cOkrIb_USDsx4tGHzUr1AgKm2qv6CBt2BfXAtj-vCtlhyRa5-8HbajgmvwIl8zrb6L4pZPB1ni6-OHO2RVMLpTCva6tBYQ10F11Am-1yHcUjyyPLE2wcL7kbnCLXgyTI/s1600/the+house,+coast+trip,+Cindi+005.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRhg0lVSyk9EO-cOkrIb_USDsx4tGHzUr1AgKm2qv6CBt2BfXAtj-vCtlhyRa5-8HbajgmvwIl8zrb6L4pZPB1ni6-OHO2RVMLpTCva6tBYQ10F11Am-1yHcUjyyPLE2wcL7kbnCLXgyTI/s320/the+house,+coast+trip,+Cindi+005.JPG" /></a></div> One of the places my mom stayed on the coast was near Tillamook on the Trask River. One of the first books my mom read when she knew she was moving to Oregon from Wisconsin umpteen years ago was a historical novel called <i>Trask.</i> So she thought it was fun to see where that story was set. She stayed with a writer and artist friend who had two dogs, too. Molly and Hobi. My mom thought Hobi was a great name as she had already had a dog in her work in progress (that what she calls a book she's writing) named Hobi but she spelled it Ho-Bee instead. Here's Hobi's picture. Maybe one day I'll get to meet her. Molly wasn't interest in a portrait shot. Both dogs are rescue dogs which I think is a wonderful thing. Not that they had to BE rescued but that there are people willing to be kind and patient and let the bad things that happened to them go away. My mom says memories aren't meant to hold us hostage but to transform us in the present. I like that and I'm real glad she knows people who take in rescue dogs. Maybe one day she'll take on in, too.<br />
And how can I forget to introduce you to Jasmine. She's a Samoyed who belongs to my mom and dad's faux niece and nephew. They call them faux because they're not really their niece and nephew but Cindi's mom and dad are like my dad's brother and sister-in-law and Carol is one of my mom's best friends. Cindi and Joe live in Redmond. It's hard to believe, but I outweigh Jasmine by about 30 pounds. She's all hair! But like me, she easily accommodates, and is submissive. Who needs a fight? No shots of me in this one but Caesar is looking good! You can just see the edge of Joe in the corner. They're good guys and I loved the chipmunks in their yard! Jasmine has to be "furminated" every now and then because she has so much hair and and Cindi says the groomer comes out wearing goggles and coveralls, like something from ET because of all that wonderful hair. I don't shed but Caesar does. It's good that we're all different, isn't it?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYGVCSTtX-LyJaFk2d1TQee-ARiBQtzdr7zzCO3eKAZCq-MnOvOKZtv7uKUhyfCJ3Y8cShYqB4VUygCEDtxnhSaAJssSZ_NnBUyTYqaC05uSl4KSsaXai6_8DcqHplymYdE8erDLwZodX7/s1600/the+house,+coast+trip,+Cindi+023.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYGVCSTtX-LyJaFk2d1TQee-ARiBQtzdr7zzCO3eKAZCq-MnOvOKZtv7uKUhyfCJ3Y8cShYqB4VUygCEDtxnhSaAJssSZ_NnBUyTYqaC05uSl4KSsaXai6_8DcqHplymYdE8erDLwZodX7/s320/the+house,+coast+trip,+Cindi+023.JPG" /></a></div> <br />
That's my latest dog update. Remember, it's a dog's world, really. Life is good. I hope yours is too. Woof! Woof!Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-85955027538835778602010-07-29T10:02:00.000-07:002010-07-29T10:02:27.558-07:00Poetry, a pinch of God My mom read an article in the Eugene <i>Register Guard</i> the other day and it included a poem by Alicia Suskin Ostriker, a poet from New Jersey. How someone from the east coast can capture my life in the West is just one miracle of literature, I guess. She wrote a poem that includes a dog's point of view. The poem, <i>The Blessing of the Old Woman, the Tulip, and the Dog</i> made my mom smile. Here's the part she said made her think of me:<br />
<br />
"To be blessed<br />
said the dog<br />
is to have a pinch<br />
of God<br />
inside you<br />
and all the other<br />
dogs can smell it"<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsaxBeJn4ofGC6W7inMn7JcnVACROfWfMg9xD0kn-L1Mup7MLLsHd_JmWFLncPYpbQYOn0rlPZJ54KpUIxFEz_g-aKbJfLL58fuY3hcvvSJbTUh3nHwoV55xlwEjH5d6fCSkeoAst-TndK/s1600/windmills+%26+spring+shots+007_crop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsaxBeJn4ofGC6W7inMn7JcnVACROfWfMg9xD0kn-L1Mup7MLLsHd_JmWFLncPYpbQYOn0rlPZJ54KpUIxFEz_g-aKbJfLL58fuY3hcvvSJbTUh3nHwoV55xlwEjH5d6fCSkeoAst-TndK/s320/windmills+%26+spring+shots+007_crop.jpg" /></a></div>.<br />
<br />
See, we were given these great noses...I think mine is rather attractive, don't you? We sniff history with our noses and check other dogs out and assess everything: "Can I eat it? Will it hurt me?" The two big questions of life. <br />
Anyway, I sniffed out a problem in the yard the other day. I had all three little dogs in my life hanging around, running up and down the yard, barking and laughing (that's Caesar, Charlie and Toby) when I realized the danger. Not far from where I'm laying in this picture, I smelled then heard then saw the rattlesnake, all coiled and ready to strike. <br />
Well, I knew enough not to try to jab at it, not to get to close. I barked but it didn't slink away. It stayed to mark its territory I guess but not in my back yard!!! I started to bark my steady, warning, get-your-butt-out-here-now!- sort of bark. And before long, Matt, my brother, came out with the pistol and took care of the snake. The little dogs all danced around me, happy, happy and Matt and his wife Melissa gave me lots of pats and hugs for being the guardian dog that I am. I knew they'd tell my mom and dad when they got home and they gave me even more hugs and pats. I had a pinch of God in side me that day and all the other little dogs could smell it!<br />
I hope you have a pinch of God in your day too! Keep sniffing! Woolf! Woolf! BoJanehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-870217936776253372.post-50077113129074992902010-07-21T21:39:00.000-07:002010-07-21T21:39:22.385-07:00Humming birds and Bat man<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPGNvYXOOkDrvnvOZn3vOt_Qc5GvNBu0X24bdWzHmM7anrUnT2MPDn-iWPoFNdD65h5TdwCWa1pSJ5Zo_ErHNa8T0dVJSUiJ1x5KdV5E99ITC-EzMSzN370yTcadUeWCkmcZ2pQlgv0qCL/s1600/DSC01136.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPGNvYXOOkDrvnvOZn3vOt_Qc5GvNBu0X24bdWzHmM7anrUnT2MPDn-iWPoFNdD65h5TdwCWa1pSJ5Zo_ErHNa8T0dVJSUiJ1x5KdV5E99ITC-EzMSzN370yTcadUeWCkmcZ2pQlgv0qCL/s320/DSC01136.JPG" /></a></div>Look close. That' a hummingbird being held by my cousin Norm as he's known to his friends. He's in Minnesota and his family has a greenhouse. This hummingbird flew into it when the door was open and got caught in a spider web. Norm and his mom helped him out and he was a bit dazed but before long he headed off into the Minnesota summer. Kinda of a cute photograph don't you think? That big bat man shadow behind him makes him look like he's being protected. Norm is interested in law enforcement so being protective is something fitting for him too.<br />
Norm has three dogs when he comes home to visit his family. Hairy, Josa and Gertie. His family are Packer fans though they live in Minnesota. Last year with all the hoopla about Bret Favre becoming a Viking, they taught Josa a trick. They'd say, "Would you rather be a dead or a Viking?" and Josa would roll over and play dead!<br />
I don't know any tricks at all. Oh, I can tug on a toy with Caesar at the other end. Not much of a trick in that. I can carry around the green garden pitcher that is now mine because of the holes I chewed in the spout. When my mom waters the plants with the new watering can she lets me drink from the spout. I like that but it isn't much of a trick.<br />
My most favorite thing to do though is play in the river. I jump in there four, five, six times a day when it's 105 degrees here as it was last week. Oh, and this week, before the cows got here, I jumped in their watering trough. I guess that's a trick getting in and out of it. We long-haired dogs in hot weather need water to relax in. I bet those of you with swimming pools know just what I mean!<br />
Anyway, I hope you're staying cool this summer. Don't get caught in any spider webs unless you've got a big friend to help you out. Woof! Woof!Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14580276696565356742noreply@blogger.com0