Soap Opera Or Suds Everywhere

We had a small accident in the house today.  Someone, who shall remain nameless, decided to do a lot of laundry.  This same person, who sorted the laundry into piles of white, cream, pale colors, dark brown, dark blue, greens, yellows, blacks and greys plus I’m sure more piles also decided to leave the cap loosely on the detergent.  This person claimed it was for ease while doing the laundry.

That same person, still remaining nameless, seems to have forgotten about the curious whirlwind that is known as the four-footed one, and how nothing is safe from her.  Needless to say each pile of carefully sorted clothing was thoroughly investigated and rolled upon.  At some point during a vigorous rolling session the detergent got knocked over.

And being a curious girl, the four-footed one naturally checked out this blue, different smelling liquid. She did not lick it or eat the detergent,  she simply rolled in it and spread the stuff all throughout the room.  And all through her fur.  Once she had thoroughly coated herself she came to find us.

With pride and much joy she took us down to the laundry room to show us her latest art work.  The person who left the cap off the detergent had to clean up the mess while the other person struggled to bathe the bundle of curiosity.  Suds in th bucket indeed!

In Between or Middle Magic

There is something magical in those days before the shift from one season to another.  Sometimes it is the bubbling sense of relief as you come out of one season and look into the upcoming one with hope and wild intentions.  Sometimes it is with a touch of sadness or longing as you peer into the next season, feeling as if you never got to really enjoy the one that is now leaving.

This morning, as the four-footed one and I were out on our ramble, I felt the touch of fall in the air.  A coolness and sharpness to the air went along with the full apple trees and suddenly all grown up rabbits.  Summer is sliding quickly away now, the heat of the day’s slowly slipping into a cooler time.

I’m  not really ready for fall yet, I decided as we walked past someone’s incredible flowerbeds.  The flowers standing out as bright, brash colorful splotches against the dulling grass, now more golden than green.  It isn’t just the colors that I will miss as summer disappears.  I will miss the whispered warmth of the sun trying to kiss my skin while I dance back to the shade.  I will miss the incredible birdsong that greets me in the morning.

Yes the fall, at least around here, will have its own burgeoning colors.  The trees shall be wrapped in gold, orange or red before the leaves finally fall to the ground below.  And then the trees, their bare limbs waving in the cold wind, will act as a reminder that we are heading into the barren and dead time of winter.

The four-footed one though seems to enjoy these moments when we hang between two seasons, neither too hot nor too cold.  She finds new smells, new friends to make and each familiar place has acquired something a little different.  She bounces into each day with enthusiasm and joy.  She fears not letting go of one season for another, instead she lets each moment be a whole new adventure.  Today’s adventure for her wasn’t the weather, it was discovering fallen apples in places where she could sample them with ease.  And sample them she did!

Unseen Forces In Bed

A strange has been happening each night for the past few weeks.  My bed has been taken over by an unseen force.  No I’m not talking about Beloved’s “bubble zone” that allows him more personal space.

Pit appears that a rather large yet unseen entity takes over the bed around midnight.  It starts by making its presence known in the middle of the bed and it slowly pushes us both out to our respective sides of the bed.  When we go to look, the only thing in the Center of the bed is the four-footed one.  And it can’t be her because she’s curled up in a small little bundle, eyes closed and settled in for her sleep.

Once we shut off the lights again and just start drifting off to sleep this entity is back pushing and clawing at each of us as it demands more space.  Frankly we have been stumped as to what was going on so Beloved set up a camera to record what was happening.  Unfortunately the footage wasn’t ideal for us to see the middle of the bed.

Plan B was for one of us to stay awake and watch from elsewhere in the room.  The one of us who stayed awake was me, in a chair at the window.  I couldn’t sleep anyway with the pain I was experiencing, but it wasn’t enough to take my medications.  I tell you this because I want you to know that I was not under the influence of anything.

You see dear friends the strange thing happening on our bed each night turns out to be a small little dog.  Yes it is in fact our four-footed one.  You’d almost think that at night she magical turns into the size and weight of a small pony while during the day she is a small-sized dog.  When we move or sit up she curls up in the center and pretends to be sleeping.  This dog is able to command most of the space on a king sized bed each night as a way of ensuring she has a good nights rest while we struggle to stay in our own bed!

Of Sharks, Dinosaurs And ?

There dinosaurs on the television earlier.  I’m m not sure what exactly Beloved was watching, I just noticed dinosaurs with tiny little arms and apparently several bony protrusions in its is dinosaur was colored yellow and purple and had what appeared to be feathers on its back legs.  Granted this was an artist’s interpretation of a dinosaur, but why it was on my television was a bit of a mystery.  Just not one I needed to actually solve.

However the little bit I saw made me rethink the four-footed one.  Not rethinking keeping her, oh heavens no not that!  But the past little bit we’ve been referring to her as a shark.  Basically since the week of non-stop shark shows, we’ve come to notice that our sweet little companion resembles an ambush attacking style of large, toothy sharks.

Now I’m thinking perhaps we were a bit quick on calling her a shark.  There appears to be a fair amount of an artist’s idea of a dinosaur in our four-footed companion.  There are days I wish she’d just get a little more in touch with her inner-sloth.  Not completely, but a bit.  Just enough that she’d settle down here and there.  But of course if she were to get in touch with her inner sloth I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t be the slow part as much as the tree climbing part.  Maybe it’s better that she just stays as she is and we stop trying to compare her to other animals!

Guard Dog

The four-footed one has been watching a cat closely now for weeks.  The cat is someone’s pet given the collar it wears.  It also seems to be able to roam freely throughout the neighbourhood.  Cleary its owners know it wants to go after birds and thus it wears a loud bell on its collar.

The four-footed is fascinated by this all.  Well in all fairness I suspect what she finds fascinating is the freedom is cat has for it is not attached to a leash.  Oh no, this cat is under someone else’s authority.  This cat is a cat of the world, or at least neighbourhood.

This morning when the cat came by she did her usual growl and bark.  After that she settled down to watch the cat carry on doing whatever it is that cats do.  She didn’t make a sound as she watched the cat, which seemed to be studying a young bird.  When the bird landed near the cat, the four-footed one started barking her head off.  It was as if she was warning the bird about the cat, which was sitting quietly and waiting.

The bird flew off and I swear the cat glared at the very window when my four-footed companion was.  I wonder when and if the cat will realize even if no dog barks, it isn’t getting a bird, not with a loud bell on it.  A loud bell that rings with the slightest movement of the cat.

Airplane Watch

Beloved is a few thousand miles away now.  He may even be a few thousand miles in the air judging by a quick glance at the clock.  And now that he’s gone I will find myself watching airplanes.  I ways do when he’s gone one a long trip all the way across the world.  I have no clue why, logically I know he isn’t on any of the planes flying over my head…but still I do it.

So for a change of plans, the four-footed one and I took a drive out into the country.  We had already gone for a few walks around the house and watched the airplanes fly past the house.  Out in the country we didn’t notice as many airplanes.  Just horses and cows with a small handful of goats.  I think the four-footed got worn ht watching horses run and goats eat.  The cows seemed to want to rest on the ground.

When we getting wiped off (well she was getting wiped off to go in the car and I was the one doing th wiping) a flock of birds went over head.  The country-footed one watched them until they went out of sight.  For the rest of the ride home ever time she saw a bird she would watch it until it was out of her sight.  I guess it’s not much different from watching airplanes and probably is a great deal more entertaining.

Rough Play

I’ve had to set up a triage system in my house to ensure those in the worst shape get attended to first.  I cannot say it has ever been a dream, wish or desire of mine to set up a triage of any sort in my house, because up until today the idea of an in-house triage never crossed my mind.

Unfortunately one, at least this one, cannot ignore the wounded in the house.  I challenge you to ignore the elephant who’s tusk is hanging by a thread, wiggling around like a loose baby tooth.  Perhaps you are cold enough to turn a blind eye to the meerkat with a badly tattered ear.  And only someone with no heart at all could look beyond the teddy bear with the hole in his tummy.

And so I set up a triage in the house to deal with this t all. Oh there are other walking wounded who need tended to as well, but all in good time.  At this rate all of the animals in this house will be stitched, patched or what have you thanks to their encounters with the four-footed one.  Well perhaps not all of the animals, the dinosaur, dragon and alligator seem to be of tougher stuff.  They may just survive the blitz of teeth and violent shaking that is known as play in the four-footed one’s world.  And now for a squeaker-dectomy for the chipmunk…