This is my Covid-19 Hairdo. It’s a mess, I know, and I can hardly see. I’m just grateful for my exceptional sense of smell!
A dog’s sense of smell is its most powerful sense…It is so sensitive that [dogs can] detect the equivalent of a 1/2 a teaspoon of sugar in an Olympic-sized swimming pool.
You can read more about my amazing sense of smell HERE.
This is my family. My mother, my father and my little brother. I love visiting them. They are always excited to see me as I am to see them. I am also very happy to see Lyne, their mistress and her husband. I spent the first three months of my life with them so they are very special to me. Also, they have a yard where I can run around and not have to go on walks where I must put up with other dogs barking at me or jumping on me.
While my mistress goes traipsing around India, I will be spending 5 weeks with my family. Party time!
However, I kind of resent that mistress has to go all the way to India. Even if it is one of her dreams to practice yoga in ashrams and yoga resorts, why does she have to go so far when all she has to do is practice with me. After all, I am an expert at Downward Dog!
Source: https://webneel.com/incredible-india-beautiful-amazing-photography
Because of her and her foolish dreams I won’t be blogging for a while. Just wanted to let you know that I will be back as soon as I can.
As many of you probably know I do volunteer work. My mistress takes me to different community centers but one of my favorite places is going to the library and having the children read to me. It is extremely relaxing! So, I was very happy when Mistress began reading out loud to me Oskar’s Quest while I was in bed – even more relaxing although there were some tense and suspenseful moments when I worried about little Oskar.
I lay next to Mistress as close to the book as I could get and listened very carefully. I learnt a few new words (in case you didn’t know, dogs can have an amazingly large vocabulary, especially smart dogs like me so people shouldn’t be afraid of teaching dogs and little children new words). There were interesting sounding words such as murmured, fearlessly and scaredy-bird.
After Mistress had finished reading the book I thought hard about Oskar being the bravest bird in the world as I fell asleep and dreamt that I was the bravest dog in the world!
A lovely book for children, adults and dogs.
I am extremely disappointed that my mistress did not include me in her latest book – not even as inspiration for a character – especially since I spent incalculable hours on my mistress’s lap comforting her as she wrote her novel when I could have been having another nap. Instead, there I was, helping her painstakingly check for errors. If there are any such errors they rest entirely on her shoulders, not mine. I am, however, mentioned in her acknowledgement page. Just barely.
Eugene’s research into his criminal mind is not about the why, but how to prevent his horrific crimes. Angie, a young woman starving for passion sees Eugene as her saviour from a lonely life of caring for her heroin addicted mother. How far is she willing to go in order to save her relationship with Eugene and his promise for a future together?
Detective Van Ray is out on a vindictive mission as he attempts to solve the murders of young girls in Youth Protection.
Their lives collide in a mixture of mistrust, obsession and ignoring the warning signs. A psychological crime novel about human frailty and loneliness.
This is one of my favorite dog poems. It was written by Nobel Laureate Wislawa Szymborska.
There are dogs and dogs. I was among the chosen.
I had good papers and wolf’s blood in my veins.
I lived upon the heights inhaling the odors of views:
meadows in sunlight, spruces after rain,
and clumps of earth beneath the snow.
I had a decent home and people on call,
I was fed, washed, groomed,
and taken for lovely strolls.
Respectfully, though, and comme il faut.
They all knew full well whose dog I was.
Any lousy mutt can have a master.
Take care, though — beware comparisons.
My master was a breed apart.
He had a splendid herd that trailed his every step
and fixed its eyes on him in fearful awe.
For me they always had smiles,
with envy poorly hidden.
Since only I had the right
to greet him with nimble leaps,
only I could say good-bye by worrying his trousers with my teeth.
Only I was permitted
to receive scratching and stroking
with my head laid in his lap.
Only I could feign sleep
while he bent over me to whisper something.
He raged at others often, loudly.
He snarled, barked,
raced from wall to wall.
I suspect he liked only me and nobody else, ever.
I also had responsibilities: waiting, trusting.
Since he would turn up briefly, and then vanish.
What kept him down there in the lowlands, I don’t know.
I guessed, though, it must be pressing business,
at least as pressing
as my battle with the cats
and everything that moves for no good reason.
There’s fate and fate. Mine changed abruptly.
One spring came
and he wasn’t there.
All hell broke loose at home.
Suitcases, chests, trunks crammed into cars.
The wheels squealed tearing downhill
and fell silent round the bend.
On the terrace scraps and tatters flamed,
yellow shirts, armbands with black emblems
and lots and lots of battered cartons
with little banners tumbling out.
I tossed and turned in this whirlwind,
more amazed than peeved.
I felt unfriendly glances on my fur.
As if I were a dog without a master,
some pushy stray
chased downstairs with a broom.
Someone tore my silver-trimmed collar off,
someone kicked my bowl, empty for days.
Then someone else, driving away,
leaned out from the car
and shot me twice.
He couldn’t even shoot straight,
since I died for a long time, in pain,
to the buzz of impertinent flies.
I, the dog of my master
I am so much in the dumps. A few days ago I had surgery in my mouth. Right now I’m wearing that ridiculous Elizabethan collar, although it isn’t my first time and I’m kind of getting used to it.
Maltese are notorious for being late bloomers. Their baby teeth often come in far later than other breeds and take much longer to fall out – if they fall out at all. These toy dogs also suffer from crowding plus tartar and plaque buildup. They are known for gingivitis, periodontal disease and early tooth loss.
Here’s a link to an article about the ten dogs prone to dental disease.
My family has a new member. His name is Kip and is still a baby (4 months old). The problem is that Kip wants to play all the time. When you’re five – like me – you’re more interested in a good game of tag around a field than having Kip jump on my back, especially since he weighs the same as I do. Have a look at his paws. They are heavy.
The other day I got a real scare as my Mistress came home with Kip, without Kip’s Mistress (my human sister). My immediate thought was Oh, no! don’t tell me that Kip’s coming to live here.
That put me in a sulky mood and so I jumped onto the bed, safe from Kip’s constant harassement. He barked because he couldn’t get on the bed but soon settled on the floor next to where I lay. As soon as I got up, he followed me around, nudging his head on mine, really entering my space. It’s very annoying.
It takes a great deal of tolerance and patience to endure him, especially when I watch him eating and drinking out of my bowls. But I say nothing. I am such a good doggie.
Later, Mistress left with Kip and returned without him. I jumped for joy although a part of me already misses him.
What is time to a dog? I know that the longer I am away from Bau, the more excited he is to see me. Perhaps a 45 minute visit at the hospital with these sweet girls is equivalent to a day’s work for him.
It’s been a hard day’s night and I’ve been working like a dog
Lennon-McCartney
According to The Old Farmer’s Almanac, the Dog Days of summer are traditionally the 40 days beginning July 3 and ending August 11, which coincide with the dawn rising of Sirius, the Dog Star.
Sirius is the brightest star in the sky, if you don’t count the Sun. Under the right conditions, it can even be seen with the naked eye during the day. Sirius is one star in a group of stars that form the constellation Canis Major, meaning “Greater Dog.” It’s no surprise, then, that the nickname of this big, bold star is Dog Star.
Carol Balawyder 