Melvin sat watching me. He watched my every move, from when I came in to when I sat down. He never moved, other than his eyes as he watched. Now and then his tongue would dart out or an ear would twitch as the door opened and someone either came or went.
I figured I’d be safe this time. I’d be able to walk into the room when it was my turn without any issue. Melvin, however, had other ideas. As I got up, gathered my belongs, he started to slowly move into an upright position. Before I had a chance to walk by him, he was already puffing out and doing that fast twitch of the tail that cats do.
The four-footed one, upon noticing him, naturally had to bark and lunge for him as I tried to get her into the back room to see the vet. Just once, just one time, I’d love to be able to have the same experience everyone else has when they come to the vet with their dogs. Just one time. Is that asking to one much? I know if you ask the four-footed one, she’d tell you yes, it is too much.
The four-footed chased a squirrel today. Not for the sake of chasing a squirrel as per say. Instead she chased the squirrel for what it had in its paws. The treasure? A peanut.
Now the four-footed one isn’t supposed to eat peanuts and I certainly don’t give them to her. She is enamoured with them because she likes how they taste. And how does she know how they taste if I don’t feed them to her? (No Beloved doesn’t give them to her either.) you see dear fends, I have a neighbor who adores birds. Adores them so much he leaves peanuts out for them.
The amount of peanuts left out on a daily basis is mind-boggling to me. Naturally the birds take the peanuts, but they don’t eat all of them. They drop some. And those dropped peanut so are a siren song to the four-footed one,or at least her nose.
Not only are the birds fed, but the squirrels have discovered the peanuts. And they have set up a highway of squirrel runs from various trees and such. Like the birds, they too drop some peanut. And the four-footed one happily munches on those if she is allowed.
She has also learned that if the squirrels have peanuts and she chases them, they tend to drop their treasures. And that’s her idea of fast food, or at least a snack. The whole thing has left me, well, feeling a little nuts trying to keep the dog away from the peanuts.
The door closed with a soft snick, letting the sounds remain outside. As peace descended again in the house, I realized how large silence can be. How it can fill a room with a comfortable blanket. How it can wrap itself around you and weave itself into all the spaces.
I also realized just how noisy it was outside between the neighbor cutting wood and his wife running a leaf blower. Oh and let us not forget the toddler screeching happily in time with the chain saw and the leaf blower. It was all a bit much.
Unfortunately, closing the door meant closing out the sunlight too. But there was no way to keep the sun and not have the noise around. And after an hour of noise, which truly seemed like forever, we had enough. So we closed the door, let the silence settle down peacefully around us and decided to ignore how dark it was now.
Instead we enjoyed the peace. We sat there, book in hand for one of us, head on paws for the other of one of us, just enjoying the sound of nothing while our ears relaxed. Until a bird decided to tease us, then one of us barked. And the silence was broken. Probably for good.
The four-footed one had gone off somewhere in the house while I was cooking. I wasn’t worried because there isn’t much for her to get into that is harmful or she can harm. Shes even come to a truce with the plants she thought she needed to fight before.
But like most people, when a smaller entity in your house is exceedingly quiet, I needed to see where she was. Before I found her, she let me know she was in my room. When I walked in there, she had plopped herself on my bed. Right in the center.
I should point out that the bed is covered in white. Because the bed is covered in white, the dog isn’t allowed on the bed until I out her purple blanket on the bed. And naturally since she jumped on the bed, a first that I know of, without me knowing, there was no purple protective blanket.
So there she was, curled up comfortably in the center of the white comforter, barking for me to find her. Probably because she expected me to be proud of her. I was, instead, speechless. And would remain so for a few minutes as I realized that while she can jump on the bed she cannot jump off it. Oh and let us not forget that before she got off the bed, she ran al over it.
There is something to be sad about peace and quiet. There is something to be said about the dog who is too quiet.
A massage, I was assured would be just thing to ease pain from cramped muscles. Cramped muscles that had given up being cramped, and now just hurt. A light massage, with stretching. Thinking a mild form of Thai massage.
With medical blessing I gave it a go. Mostly out of curiosity. Except the small lady who was to do my massage told me that mild wouldn’t solve the problem. Oh no, much stretching and pushing would be required to get rid of the “badness” she said with a confident nod. Not really sure if this was a good idea, I decided since I was already there I should give it a go.
I was stretched, kneaded, twisted and turned. I was chopped and pushed until I no longer knew what was happening. Thumbs, elbows, for all I know knees, were pushed against painful areas on my body. Rest assured the pushing was painful.
The twisting left me feeling like an awkward pretzel. The kneading left me feeling as though I had been pummelled by an angry army of children, for all I know feet may have been used.
And now hours later, hours after the torture, some of the tightness and pain from cramps has faded. Did the tiny lady with all that strength manage to do the unthinkable? Or did she inflict just enough pain to take my mind off the other pain? Who knows. For now, I will just keep checking for bruises.
The four-footed one decided we needed flowers in the house today. I’m not sure how she came to that conclusion, or how she figured out which ones to bring in the house. All I know is that today, I had flowers, from my neighbor’s garden no less left on the floor in the house.
Muddy paw prints did not help the four-footed one hide either. They showed her exact path to hiding under the bed in the guest room. The floor, by the way, is a light, off-white colored carpet. Now adorned with dancing, muddy paw prints going into the room, around the far side of the bed, to the other side of the bed and back to the far side before disappearing under the bed.
Now when she carried out this act of giving away something that wasn’t hers to share is beyond me. All I know is that one minute she was outside enjoying herself and the next minute I had come into a series of red flowers on the porch, the mud room, the kitchen floor and one sad one all by itself in the hallway. And tiny little, dirty, paw prints gave away who the secret flower giver was.
A chat with my neighbor, more an apology from me to my neighbor, gave me some insight into how my four-footed one managed to carry out the feat as she never left my yard. Instead she apparently dug under a low spot in the fence to dig up/out the flowers. My neighbor only noticed the missing flowers because she had been planning to go out and cut them off later on. She noticed that there was a larger hole under one spot in the fence. Some paw prints near the hole.
The rest is pretty much history. The mud will be removed from the carpet, the flowers have been given back to my neighbor as she wanted to press them and thought they’d still be in good shape for that. As for the four-footed one, she is proud of herself!
I wasn’t expecting to have a slug-filled day. Okay maybe not the whole day, it certainly part of the day. As in my walks with the four-footed one.
Who knew a dog would be fascinated with slugs? Certainly not me. When she encountered the first one, she stopped, sniffed it and tried to lick it. She might have been successful in giving it a kiss if I wasn’t so insistent that she came with me. I know, I’m mean.
The second slug encounter, probably twenty seconds later, did not involve licking, a quick sniff followed by her trying to play with it. Now the slug really didn’t move that fast, but a bird swooped in and grabbed the slug before she could bat at it with her paws.
Our whole walk consisted of her sniffing, trying to eat or kiss slugs if not play with them. Needles to say it took us a long time to get anywhere because there were so many slugs to explore. It appears the birds had a feast, or at least fun relocating them. Thankfully no slugs fell from the sky onto me.
Now I don’t have anything against slugs as per say. I’d prefer that my dog not attempt to consume them. And I’d prefer they not have fun with my family luge, but for the most part I left the slugs be, well, sluggish.