Memorial Service Complete with Dogs

As you can see in this photo, Mom (on the left) and her sister Tanis (on the right) had a Boston Terrier (named Dinty Moore) when they were growing up. It is unthinkable to me to have a memorial service for Mom without canine representation. I asked the Senior Warden of our church if dogs are allowed in the sanctuary, and she said, "No problem." (She too is a dog lover.) So today after morning worship, I talked to our church rector and he agreed that Mr. P. and I can bring our two smallest dogs (Polly & Georgie) to Mom's memorial service on Friday.

Great Gramma is Gone

My mom (age 90) passed away today.

I just visited her yesterday - hugged and kissed her - told her I would bring one of the dogs to see her on Sunday. Today when I got home from work, Mr. P. told me she had passed away this morning. I am just heartbroken. Fortunately, I have a lot of dogs to comfort me.

Berry:

You want me to what? Go outside to sleep in a cold, hard dog house? Yeah, I know Grampa has spent 500 hours insulating it, but it will never, ever be as comfy as this bed and this pillow. How can you even suggest that when I smile at you like this? Don't you just want to hug me? Don't you just want me to sleep in your bed? I won't hog the bed, promise. OK, maybe a little hogging, but no snoring, I promise. Well, maybe a teeny bit of snoring...

West Coast Correspondents Hard At Work

From Sunday, November 8th: the West Coast Correspondents hard at work, helping their dad watch football.

Top to bottom:

Ziggy

Fritz

Lionel

ZZZZZZ. I feel the same way about football, guys.

3 Little Puppies Left

Last weekend we gave away most of Blackie's puppies in the Wal-Mart parking lot, until a Wal-Mart employee hiked out to tell Mr. P. that selling/giving away anything in their parking lot is not allowed (not that day, anyway - it seems to go on every other day).

It was torture to watch those little guys go. Except for the wonderful couple who came to our house and chose one of the black/brown boys (as they drove away, the puppy was snuggled up against his new mom's ample bosom, with his head tucked under her chin), I couldn't begin to guess whether the people taking the pups would be good parents. But eventually you tell yourself not to agonize over it. Maybe the pups won't get star treatment in their new home, maybe they'll get put to work as a hunting dog, but probably it will be better than living in a cold, wet ditch.

Now that we have only 3 Little Puppies, it's much easier to give them individual attention, and they appreciate the lack of competition for loving and food. This weekend Mr. P. will try to give them away in the parking lot of a Wal-Mart in a nearby town. If that doesn't work, he says we'll have a couple extra "outdoor dogs". If these last 3 puppies go to new homes, we think the one who'll miss them the most is Miss Kitty.

We got rid of it

After advertising in the local paper and putting signs on our cars and at the end of our driveway, we got rid of a puppy today.

That sounds so awful to me. Maybe because of hushed conversations I overheard in the girls' bathroom in high school, that went like this:

"I heard Janice got pregnant."

"But I heard she got rid of it."

This was long before abortion was legal, so getting rid of a baby then was even more of an ordeal than it is now.

So, we got rid of a puppy today, but we think he went to a good home - a dog lover who already has a golden retriever but wanted another dog for her kids. She chose the biggest black male puppy (unnamed by us).

So that leaves 10 puppies. One less mouth to feed. One less tail to wag when I come home.

Weaning the Puppies

Yesterday when I was feeding the Little Puppies, the sound of kibble hitting the feeding dish called Blackie into the garage to investigate. She is trying so hard to stay out of reach of the puppies (to wean them), but she just couldn't resist the kibble. As soon as she arrived, the puppies abandoned the food and headed for Blackie's teats. The first one to attempt to nurse got growled at. When he tried again, she snapped and growled at him. He cowered on the floor, ears back, whimpering, and my heart broke for him even though I know Blackie needs to do what she's doing. Then I had to laugh because as the rest of the puppies swarmed around her, Blackie stomped over to her box and hopped in so they couldn't get at her. If you look at the photo in my October 22nd post entitled Box Hab For Dogs, you'll see why.