Happy Easter: More Fun With Captions

What a glorious Resurrection morning! In honor of the new life the Resurrection brings, I thought I'd give you the opportunity once again to provide new life to a few photos.

Yup... it's another round of Fun with Captions. I supply the pics; you supply the captions.

As usual, I've numbered the photos (in random order) and given you the names of the canine crew members (or humans) captured in each. You can reference that number (and the names) in your captions when you supply them. Do as many, or as few, as you like. Be creative. :o)

You can submit your captions through the comments feature at the end of this blog entry.

Have fun! I look forward to giggling with you. ;o)


1. Pinot:


2. Tuc:


3. Daddy Don and Ridge:


4. Elsie and Tuc:


5. Tuc:

6. Pinot:

7: Tuc and Pinot:


8. Pinot and Kenya:


9. Pinot and Tuc:


10. Pinot and Tuc:
11. Pinot:


12. Pinot and Ridge:


13. Daddy Don and Elsie:


14. Tuc and Pinot:

15. Kenya (behind Daddy Don's leg):


Happy Easter, all! Enjoy.

'Til next time,
Joan

Little Tuc Ain't So Little Anymore

On tax day, April 15th, Tuc (aka, Tucson, Tucker, the Tucmeister, Tuc-monster, Little Tuc Buddy, and the Tucster) will be 11 months old.


And I can't help but wonder: where has the last year gone?

It seems like just yesterday I picked up the little squirt in AZ and carried him home on the plane in a fit-under-your-seat pet carry-on. I can't imagine him in one now -- he's so grown up.

He isn't fully grown yet, of course. At a month shy of a year old he still has some physical and emotional maturing to do. He's all puppy at heart (a trait I suspect will stay with him even into his golden years), he gets into trouble, and he has the attention-span of a gnat (a puppy thing). But I'll take him just the way hes is. :o)





I have to remember he is still a puppy (yes, a puppy! -- all 85 pounds of him). I can't expect him to act like an adult (nor should I; it wouldn't be fair). He's still puppy-impish and will be for some time.

But what a love! Confident; full of himself; smart; athletic; impish; goofy; possessing a sense of humor (I'd swear on it); in love with life; totally committed to and in love with his people and his pack.

Tuc is all Lab.

And I mean ALL Lab -- everything a Lab should be in personality and temperament.

Now if only we could get him to pee standing still (or at least in one spot) and to keep the water in his mouth or in the bowl when he drinks!

Despite the messes, I love my little Tucmeister (uh-oh... do I detect a smidgeon of favoritism??? -- shhhhh... don't let the other canine kids know!). His zest for life is infectious. And when I watch him, or interact with him, I can't help but smile.

He's my sweet, silly, goofy, make-me-grin-like-a-buffoon boy -- my Tuc Buddy.

Gotta love him.

Now I guess I'll go clean up the puddle and drips around the water bowl and the trail of water drips spanning the family-room floor (Tuc just got done getting a drink).

And I thought Baxter was bad. :)

Still, you gotta love him.

'Til next time,
Joan

P.S. Thanks, Momma Teese, for our precious pup. He's a gift to us, and especially to me, in a ways you can't imagine. Ya done good! Head pats and butt rubs to Max and Ellie. :o)

WW: The Helpers (Walking the Poop Grip with Daddy Don)

Reassurance: Restoring Our Calm

Poor Ridge.

Lightning struck uncomfortably close to the house this morning (close enough to hear the sizzle first). Our only damage, thankfully, was a fried telephone line (and one land-line phone). No biggie.

But poor Ridgers.

He'd been doing so well: firecrackers and thunder no longer terrorized him; they haven't for at least 18 months, maybe even two years now. This morning's strike, however, unnerved him (admittedly, it startled me, too). No pacing, no barking, no heavy panting like he used to do -- just a look of sheer terror in his eyes. His old monster was back and it scared him.

Poor guy.

Funny how former terrors return to bite us when we least expect.

When they do, a bit of patient, offered-in-love reassurance goes a long, long way toward restoring our calm and sense of well-being. No finger-waving is necessary - just loving affirmation.



Goofy, silly, fragile, loves-his-humans canine boy! Ridge is my daily reminder that relationships require patient, enduring investment over the long haul, and that love and persistence can overcome just about anything when given time.

(Yes, it's me in the pics with Ridge.)



(That's my foot under his head.):


He's become our lap dog and snuggle bug. Once insecure and fearful, Ridge is confident and calm -- even low key and secure. He loves our attention and views us with unwavering trust.

Oh, like all of us, he still has his neuroses (stuffed things that squeak for one):


He's still all nose, too (here he is investigating the compost bin at the back corner of the property -- with Tuc's help):


And when strangers come to the door or things go bump in the night, he'll get excited and let us know.

But after years of investing our time, affection, love, training, and affirmation in him, he's finally comfortable, even-keeled, relaxed, and tender with us. He's settled in and happy here.

Every now and then, though (like during this morning's lightning strike), Ridge's insecurities resurface.

No worries. There is nothing Ridge fears that can't be cured by a reminder of his place in our hearts (a little snuggle time with Momma Joan or Daddy Don will do just fine).



And when Ridge's fears return to haunt him (and they will again, I'm sure), we just need to remind him that he hasn't failed us (that he's done all he can do to protect his humans), that we love him, that he's safe, and that all is well (or will be okay) no matter how it feels at the moment.

When my old fears return to haunt me (they do and they will), I hope others will remind me of the same. Just think where we'd be if no one offered us kind words when we're afraid. Just think where Ridge would be.

We all need reassurance now and then. And we relish it when it comes.

The question is: are we willing to offer the same reassurance (with patience, tenderness, love AND no finger wagging) to those who are trembling around us?

Oh, what a world it could be.

'Til next time,
Joan

Baxter Comes to Visit, or Does Absence Really Make the Heart Grow Fonder?

Guess who's been here all week while DSD and DSIL are in visiting from Maine.

Yup, it's the gigunda Baxter boy! My Boos Buddy (well, now Sarah's and Chris's Boos Buddy). :o) My big galoot with the massive head and shark-like overbite.


I've missed his crooked-tooth grin.


In fact, I've missed Baxter so much that he reached near-Saint status in my imagination. He has the gray muzzle now to confirm it (and he's only 6 yo). The wizened old man.



I guess there is some truth to the saying "absence makes the heart grow fonder."

And now I know why: during absences we forget all the things that drove us crazy. It's that Rose-Colored-Memory-Syndrome.

One of the things I completely forgot about is the disgusting sounds Baxter makes when he gives himself a bath. Yuk...blech...grosso-barfo. Think wet, snorty, slurpy, inhaling-over-your-tongue gurgling sounds. None of the rest of the gang comes even close. Major yuk.

He is simply the noisiest groomer (slurp, slurp, slurp....)! And there's no ignoring him.


Baxter is also quite jealous. If we pay attention to any of the other dogs in his presence, he squiggles his way right in to be King of the Butt-Rubs.


And if that doesn't work, he barks -- oh how he barks! It's one of those "pay attention to me or I'll keep barking" barks. And he keeps it up.

Again, the rest of the crew doesn't come close. They may nudge or jump or wiggle, but they don't bark with jealousy. And his is a piercing, resonant bark (oh my aching head!).

Then there's the drool. Did you notice the shiny white thread running between Boos' eyes in his toothy-grin-picture above? Yup... that's saliva. With his overbite he's always had a serious drool issue (kinda like Hootch, in the movie Turner and Hootch), but it got worse when he lost his upper front teeth in the tug-o-war match with Kenya two years ago.

Come to think of it, that's when I started wearing a towel over my shoulder all day. And to think I blamed the towel on hot flashes and menopause.

Now, of course, these irritations don't affect my love for Baxter in the least. When he lived with us they endeared him to me even more. Silly boy.

LOL... now they're annoying. I think I just got used to life without them, and, I suppose, without Baxter and all his idiosyncrasies.

Amazing how we forget, isn't it?

Having said that, I still love the Boos to pieces -- the goofy galoot. He's still a couch potato extraordinaire:


He's still a snuggle buddy, and he still loves his people more than anything else in the world (here's Boos with DSIL Chris):


And he still loves to sit on the hill outside watching the world go by (nope, he doesn't bark outside), and then quietly paws at the door when he wants to come in:


Yup... gotta luv my Boos, slurpies and all. We take the good with the bad.

But I have to admit I won't miss being on drool-watch after the kids and Boos return to Maine tomorrow.

Hey... is this anything like grand-parenting?

'Til next time,
Joan