My Antenna Theory

Many moons ago, Jim, my ex-hubby and I had an old TV antenna on our roof, left by the previous homeowners. It was a huge metal eyesore, not connected to anything but the chimney, I suppose for support. Why it was still there? What purpose did it serve? Here’s my theory…

antenna

I believe that antenna’s sole purpose was to emit some sort of vibration recognized only by the dogs of Marin County. When they heard this silent emission, I envisioned German Shepherds jumping their backyard fences and Beagles leaping out open windows all in search of our front porch. I tell ya, if there was a stray dog within a mile, it seemed to end up at our house.

shepherd jumping fence

Now don’t get me wrong; not only did strays wander into our yard but I also spotted them (and still do) while driving about town. Knowing I’m an animal lover, Jim was convinced I enticed them with treats hidden in my car trunk or some such nonsense. I would never do that. I prefer to keep all treats in the glove compartment. Continue reading

That’s Just Jack

Marley and Me

I just watched the movie Marley and Me with my fat cat, Jack. Yes, Jack watches TV. He’s a very observant guy. But if you haven’t seen the movie, I’m about to ruin it for you so you should probably skip the next paragraph.Spoiler Alert

Marley and Me is a comedy about a dog but also a tear-jerker because Marley dies, as dogs will do. I’d already seen the movie but I still cried like a baby. I’m talking crocodile tears that spilled from my eyes, missed my cheeks entirely, then landed on Jack, who lounged on my lap. Pathetic? Yeah, I’d say so.

Now that you virgins of Marley and Me are back with us, let’s continue.. Continue reading

A Close Call

If you had your hand on my chest right now, yes it’d be inappropriate, but the point is, you’d feel my heart beating like I’d just seen a ghost. I’d love that, actually. Seeing a ghost, that is. But the reason my heart is on overdrive is because my 4 mutts were just attacked by another dog.

I almost talked myself out of taking Callie, Skip, Wally and Taffy for a stroll because, well, it’s called pure laziness. My days have been so packed lately that when I drag my weary bones home, the thought of moving from my cozy chair is not an inviting one.

Callie and Wally

Taffy

Skip

Still, guilt won me over. How can I relax when 8 eyeballs are glued to my every move? I felt their stares even as I pretended to be asleep. But my unsympathetic mutts were having none of it. So I begrudgingly took them for a walk. Continue reading

What’s a Dog to Do?

I imagine many people awake in the morning to the scent of coffee brewing, the aroma of eggs and bacon wafting throughout the house, thanks to a thoughtful significant other. Now don’t get me wrong; none of that describes my mornings. For instance, take Thursday morning last week.

You know that sound people make when they’re about to vomit? Sort of a dry heaving that comes in 3 second rhythms until it’s no longer dry? You know what I mean if you’ve ever had food poisoning or possibly one too many Moscow Mules. So I immediately recognized what was happening on the floor of my bedroom.

Moscow Mules

Go easy on these

You see, my latest mutt, Taffy, has taken to eating cat litter. Just another non-endearing trait from this adorably obnoxious canine. At least it’s corn-based litter, which might be the attraction. But her obsession with it is unwavering and my attempts to block her from that room (while giving the cats access) have obviously proven unsuccessful.

Taffy close up2

Adorably obnoxious

Continue reading

My Sofa Zombie

Here’s a post from May, 2013 that I barely remember, so I bet you don’t either. Give it a go…I’m just a week or so away from penning a new post. Until then, enjoy reading about Nellie…

 

Nellie

Nellie

Since you’ve met the rest of my furry family, why not meet the whole brood? Last, but certainly not least is Nellie, my 8-year-old Greyhound. She’s my sofa zombie. Many people think this breed is hyper, but those people would be wrong. Greyhounds are also known as 45-mph couch potatoes. Continue reading