Spa Retreat Weekend with dog hair...

Rudy and I spent the weekend "babysitting" for Auntie Sandy's two pups. Well, they're not exactly pups. Rudy is still the pup. They actually are more like older cousins and they allowed us entry into their domain. I don't think they'd take too kindly to the "babysitting" word.

Aunt Sandy was in Kansas getting her boychild married off. He really is a catch, Ashley, no matter how crazy he might tell you his mom is.

This is Carmel. Carmey for short.

She is the ruler of the little kingdom. Rudy followed her everywhere, much to her annoyance. She would probably be surprised to find out that it was actually a kind of hero worship with a bit of "She's my human, not yours!" thrown in. By Sunday, Carmey was actually tail wagging with Rudy. Given another day or two, they might have even played tug with the rag bone. Maybe. Carmey may just be too cool to play with babies.

For most of the weekend, though, Carmey wanted on my lap or as close to it as she could get when my knitting needles were going. But then, of course, so did Rudy.



Because of her low tolerance for the kid, she usually gave up and went to the end of the couch. Poor girl. I tried. I really did, Carmey. What are you going to do?



This is Scooter. He has issues. Not of his own making.



Both Carmey and Scooter are rescue dogs. That's right. They rescued Auntie Sandy and Uncle Don from a petless life. But before that, Scooter may have been abused. He is just now, after several months, starting to let me pet him on my terms. OK. Maybe still on his terms. But he does let me pet him and I even got a smooch or two this weekend. (Sorry Cuddle Buns.) He curled up in my lap once before Rudy caught on. Scooter spent much of the weekend here:



Burrowed under his blankie. Beats competing with a little rat-like thing that doesn't even want to use the doggy door.

PS...I had a great weekend knitting and reading and being quiet and dog wrangling. And eating chocolate chip cookies.

The Irish Shuffle

I have spent the last week, after getting my body clock back in order, shuffling piles. All of the dirty clothes of course went immediately into the dirty clothes basket so Cuddle Buns could begin his job of laundering them. He is much more able to get right to work and get things organized than I am. The heavy clothes, sweaters, etc. that I obviously don't need since today's weather headline is "Summer Just Won't Call it Quits" sat in a pile on my dresser. Then I shuffled them to the bed so I would be sure to put them up in the closet before I slept. Right. I finally shuffled them to a bottom shelf in the closet knowing that someday I will be cleaning the closet. Did I mention that when I had those sweaters, etc. on the dresser that they covered a whole duffel bag of souvenirs we brought back? Piles. I have shuffled them from our suitcases and tried to put them into piles as to His and Mine. He mixed them up because he shuffled his pile back to my dresser in an attempt to get ready for work. (Poor guy.) Then I shuffled them to the bed next to the clean sweaters because of course I will get everything done before bedtime. They were shuffled back to the dresser. Then some were shuffled to the guest room where they await mailing. Some of them. Those that aren't getting mailed have been shuffled to the kitchen table so I can grab them when I leave if I might be seeing the person I got them for. (Magnet for my hairdresser. Key chain for the miracle worker who gives me massage. Big, important items all over the table.) When that started looking really tacky, I shuffled them back to my dresser.

Some haven't even arrived at the house yet since we had some things shipped. I have a small house. Why did I buy out Ireland?

During this shuffle I am constantly stopping to take away Rudy's new favorite toy: Cuddle Bun's slipper. A billion dog toys clutter the floor. He wants the slippers...

Doesn't seem to matter where we hide them, he finds them.

His little bed here in my kitchen has been moved clear across the room by his running and jumping into it with whichever toy he is mauling. I move it back several times a day. He loves his bed and jumping into it.

When we're not shuffling or chewing on slippers, this is what we've been doing...probably a lot more than the shuffling...

The Best Part of Waking Up....

After leaving a country that was absolutely charming, spending what seemed like DAYS in various airports (JFK-- what a zoo!), collapsing into bed when the clock said it was 11pm but the body knew it was really 4am Ireland time, and then not wanting to wake up when the clock by the bed said it was 6am but your body was awake because it thought the time was 11am, but being so fuzzy brained there was no way the day was going to be put to any good use, it was so good to have a slobbery puppy kiss to the nose. I missed him and it is good to be home.

SSSHHHHHH

I've tried to kind of be low key around Rudy about this. Inside, though, there is a turmoil about how I can possible leave Rudy for 2 whole weeks. It is Ireland, and all, but 2 weeks!

We are getting ready to go to the airport and I wish I'd taken Auntie Donna Rita up on her plan for us to get Rudy on the plane.



Two weeks without Rudy AND the internet. What will I do?????

Mamas don't let your babies grow up

I so remember the first time I walked both of my kids to the bus stop and watched as they walked up those steps and faced all of those big kids they didn't know. Their first lost tooth. Their first sleep over. The first time they drove by themselves. I thought most of the "firsts" were done for me except for the grandbabies. But now this...it is just so HARD!!

Rudy has outgrown his first collar. He isn't a puppy anymore,




Of course, he still is the cutest ever. AND now he gets to sport his cool camo. I've lost him a time or two in the yard in it. He blends.

Really?????

This cracks me up. Optimal pooper....

Sister Bertrille...and other ear problems

Since I first laid eyes on him, I've been in love with Rudy's ears. Take a look at the picture to the left. Those flopping, wonderful ears.

He also has a way of holding them (not being able to physically do any moving of my ears without the aid of hands I'm not sure if that term is the one I need, but hopefully you get my drift) that has always made me think of Sally Fields. See the resemblance?





OK....that first frame of the movie isn't Sally, for those of you who weren't born when this wonderful show was on prime time. But watch the video. Very entertaining. You old folk (my age) will have a blast of wonderful nostalgia.



I've been sure when he was very small (smaller than now...like 5 pounds ago) he could be air borne given the right wind currents. Sally used to say: "When lift plus thrust is greater than load plus drag." (Oh....the 60s. A simpler time. With no reality TV.)


But lately it seems his passenger side ear isn't acting right and I'm worried. It never flops. The driver's side ear flops. Can you break an ear? Did he fall and do irreparable damage? I'm a big fan of symmetry, so is there some kind of ear therapy I need to do???