A Goat Of A Chance

The four-footed one discovered a new friend today.  A small goat was visiting near our normal walking path.  A small goat not much larger than the four-footed companion.  Four-feet had no clue what to make of the goat as it spoke.

She jumped back, barked and charged before deciding to sit and hold up a paw.  The goat, in return, had run away from the fence and then slowly, shyly made its own wan back to the fence.

A lady came out of the house, held out an apple and said “Clarence cannot resist dogs or apples”.  As his name was spoken, the goat headed to where the lady was standing.  And then he promptly started to dance around, clearly wanting the apple.

We left him to it and carried on with our walk.  And when we got home?  The four-footed did her own version of a dance for a treat.  In her case she stood up on her hind legs before jumping around in a circle while staying up on her hind-legs.  Then she came down on all four, wagged her wee tail before proceeding to stand on her hind legs again and make tiny barking noises.

Yes she got a treat.  No it wasn’t apple, although she love so apple too.  Maybe her new friend will be back out tomorrow.


Le Sigh

A huge sigh filled the air.  THe kind of sigh that was full of unsaid words, unmentioned worries and unresolved problems.  It was, in fact, the kind of sigh Beloved has gotten rather good at doing.  One might even call it second nature to him.

It had become the beginning of his conversations, the end of his discussions and the way he filled the silence.  And he wasn’t even aware he was doing it.

Sadly, I was the reason for this sighing of his.   It wasn’t intentional on my part, not in the least.  It was, however, a side effect to me rushing headlong into my life with lupus while still having a career and such. This meant that at times I forgot to tell him things.

Fine, since we are al friends here, it meant occasionally missing an appointment or medication times. Which yes, I know, isn’t always the most responsible thing or ideal for my health.  And this, of course, is the reason for the sighs.

And as the sigh filled the air I felt s though I had disappointed him.  Even though this time there wasn’t any cause for him to do that.   And so my impatience rose with him as well. I wanted him to just day what he needed to say.

So he moved into the conversation and all was well. Until the end, when he suggested perhaps a small nap might be in order.  As he put it, you know a bit of rest with lupus wouldn’t be bad.  It’s not that he was wrong, but good heavens.  I wanted to sigh and tell him to leave it.  I didn’t because sighing is his field of expertise.  Mine seems to be not following rules and such.

Not So Great Escape

The four-footed one made a break for it today.  I don’t blame her, not really.  She saw a chance for freedom or a different life and she bolted. She tossed back her head and she ran.  Actually she sort of leaped like a deer so she could cover more ground quickly.

You see the garden gate was open.  It is never open.  Because if it was open, she’d be out and about.  So we keep it close.  And because of the cats.  Not sure who they belong to, but they like to roam around and take up resting spots near the trees.

Today, because I was behind on things, I didn’t check if the gate was open.  There really is no reason for it to be, but I normally check.  In a hurry, I risked it.  And it was open.  And she was out before I knew it.

Here is the thing though, despite making a break for it, she came back as soon as she realized none of the creature comforts she was used to could be found in the lane way.  Yep that’s right, she ran into the lane, went to the end of the property and came back.  Thank heavens for that. Because I’d miss her like crazy if she really wanted a differently life.

Sock It To Me

There is something to be said about fuzzy socks.  Especially for days when it’s a little chilly or damp and you want to curl up and be comfortable.  And let’s not forgot about how lovely they are when we spend a lazy, cool day, reading.

You may say I have a thing for fuzzy socks.  Hugs for your feet and legs to my way of thinking!  And who doesn’t want hugs for legs and feet on cold days or nights?  Although I will confess I’d rather that no real hugs take place when it comes to my feet and legs!

So today, I tossed on my fuzzy socks, grabbed a book and ignored the cool drizzle outside.  Because it was the perfect conditions and timing for fuzzy socks, an e cel lent story and letting the rest of the world slip away.  Temporarily of course!

The four-footed one was in agreement with me, although she doesn’t have fuzzy socks.  Instead she likes to rest on my fuzzy socks.  While my feet are inside them!  And no she doesn’t read either.  She’s just along for the lounging effect I think.  Which frankly is amazing all on its own.  Add it with the fuzzy socks and books and you have incredible comfort!  Which is what today ended up being!

Decorating Dog Style

The four-footed one decided to help decorate the house.  I appreciate her energy and enthusiasm, but we clearly have different tastes.

Muddy paw prints and dog toys artistically tossed about wasn’t really the look I was going for.  Nose smudges on the windows seem to be her special touch. And no window is to be missed from this special treatment.  Nor can one over do this special touch!

I was going for something more like clean lines and such.  The odd dog toy here or there, sure I could handle that.  Same as a comfy bed here or there.  These would, naturally, be understated pieces rather than attention seeking features.

As for window treatments, I was more along the lines of effective yet beautiful blinds for controlling visibility and blocking light.  Especially since the nose prints are only so high up, sadly not covering nearly enough of the window height.

But the four-footed one is not easily deterred.  Nor is she one to accept alterations to her masterpiece.  Trust me on this.  I cleaned up the toys, cleared of fun the muddy prints and diligently got the nose prints removed.  Only to discover that while I was doing the windows, my companion was artistically strewing about toys and leaving paw prints every where.

So no the house isn’t decorated yet, but it has that, shall we say, lived in look?

The Monsters From Under The Bed Did It

The dog was nowhere to be found when I came in the door.  Normally she’s easy to find.  Mostly because she greets you at the door.  If she likes you, she makes you wait to get in.  If she loves you, she keeps pushing you back out the door.

Today she didn’t greet me at the door. She also didn’t come when I called her.  The house, in fact, was silent in that eerie way where you know something bad or not right has happened because of how still it is.

She did not come when I promised her treats either.  Nor for her favorite toy.  I knew she wasn’t out because Beloved wasn’t due back.  Upon walking into my bedroom I found the reason for the stillness.  You see Sally Mander the toy salamander she has was on the center of my bed.  Which is a huge no no.

The book, which had been on my bedside table had been knocked on the floor.  As for the coverings on my bed, well let’s just say if I had left it in that state, why would I have wasted the energy to make such a mess.

It was the odd little noise I heard now and then, while I surveyed the damage, that let me know where the four-footed one was.  And that noise came from under my bed, where the monsters hide.  Only she probably chased them out and they made the mess I found!


Tis the season for cookies, cake and chocolates galore.  Tis the season for visiting and outings and so much more.  More as in trying to fit more food into my body.  More as in one more bite, or just a taste of that.

But really more as in can this much more of me fit in these pants?  Because let’s face it, for a lot of us, Tis the season for calories galore.

Sure you promise you will limit your intake.  You will be sensible.  You have ONE piece.  Except you end up at more outings trying more one pieces and suddenly not even sensible works.  You make this discovery as you decide your pants are just not right.

So you decide to avoid th food, sip the drink, finish nothing.  Just a small taste.  Just a wee morsel over your lips.  And somehow, through the magic of this season, every little bit that slips over your lips decides to take up residence in your body, like on your hips.

No fear though, a new year is just around the corner so you can work on getting read of this seasonal stuffs, maybe for good if you are lucky.  Or at least until Tis another season of umm stuff.