Fipsie, No Bon Bons!

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Rosco's Sweetheart Soul

Tonight I am playing bal with Fipsie who is as alert as ever. As usual I am lying on the floor, tossing. As we know, he will not play unless I am lying on the floor. The well rehearsed drill is known to us both: As he comes for the ball, I toss and he turns to run after it.

At one point, Fipsie is out in the open patio and I have the ball in front of me between my two outstretched arms. I decide to vary the routine. My devious strategy is to out-wait Fips until he comes running for the ball and then SNATCH it away from him. Ha ha ha! I pretend to sleep.

Fipsie's devious strategy is to wait till I put my head down and then charge fast and snatch it away from me, before... Uh... by the time I lift my head and move my hand, Fipsie is padding away with the ballie in his maw. Ooomans! So hopelessly slow.

Rosco wants in on the play, but he doesn't like balls. Instead he has the ex-squeaky fuzzy donut. The routine here is to do tuggies and then when he releases, toss the fuzzy for him to fetch. This is not a very big fuzzy, and in the wrastle, I yank it away from him and he does a retrieving chomp. Alas he chomps on my finger and I let out an involuntary yelp. OW!

Little Roski, immediately shoves his nose into my face and starts licking furiously. And lick, and lick, and lick.... He is SUCH a sweetheart. I pet him and say I know, it was just an accident and pet him some more.

Twenty minutes later I am drowsing on the floor. Fipsie is off with his possessed bal, and Rosco is near my thigh with his head resting near the now hopelessly chewed up fuzzy donut. There's still enough "corner" to grab and toss, but as I reach for it Rosco looks at the fuzzy and then comes up to my face to give me a "pre-apology" licky poo. I'm sure he's noticed the size differential and I interpret his lick to mean: "I know, and I pwomise not to bite you."

It's really quite amazing... not only does he apologize, he also seeks to pre-assure. Li'l Rosquito.

Dumb dogs. It's all instinct. They don't really feel anything. I'm just anthropomorphizing. Animals don't have a soul.

Beating the Brush at Loopy

It was a bright and sunny day -- good for a late morning walk at Loopy Loops.   We drove down to the reserve, but instead of entering from the parking I decided to walk down Dry Creek Road toward the winery and enter Loopy Loops from the back end.

The pups padded along the side of the road, stopping to sniff here and there.  Once we got into Loopy, Rosco led the way, choosing the trail that seem most sensible to him -- Fips following, then me.

"Gulley Forest Trail"

After beating through the brush on Gulley Forest Trail we turned right and headed down "Cathedral Oak Way"  which is the eastern portion of the Southern Loop

Cathedral Oak Way

After arriving at Lupin Meadow  [*picture] we headed back up the Center Trail to Big Pond

Big Pond

Big Pond is only big until mid May.  After that it dries up and the bed turns into gooey muck.   One of the drawbacks to Middletown is that there are not many places for Fips to swim, so we have to take advantage of the water while it's around.

From Big Pond, we cut through some more tall grass (tall for dachsies, at least) and headed back toward the parking lot where, 

Big No-Tail decided to annoy Rosco.....

P.S.  (from Rosco) Roski-the-Doggie Photographer wants to make very clear that if these fotos are  close to awful it was not his fault   but entirely the misdoings of humans who provided him with a "Dungie" camera and who then washed these fotos in some sort of pig-trough.   Roski has done his fuzzy best to tweak, tint, and unstain them.  

I'll be Back Soon.

You know how everyone is always saying that doggies are loyal and patient? Well, it occurred to me how painful it must be for doggies to wait for us all day. We don't like waiting, do we? Why should we think it's any the less painful for them? I do hope I treat these guys OK.

I try to take the them everywhere I go, but so many places will not let dogs inside and, in the insufferable heat, it's dangerous to leave them in a car, even if the windows are down. Inevitably they have to be left at home where it's cool. But there's no explaining to them why.

I try to reassure them when I leave. I say, "Be goo' boys now" and "I'll be back soon." But that conceptual assurance means nothing to them. What they hear is the "he's-leaving-bark". So I pet them and sometimes hug them and do what I can to let them know that I love them.

Invariably when I come back, there are two noses, pressed against the glass sliding doors waiting for my return. In truth, I feel bad for leaving them alone and I am just as happy to see them as they are to see me.

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From Heat to Heater

It has been an oppressive, dry, hot summer. After 8.30 in the morning it is too hot to go out until later in the evening when it is at least merely sultry. The doggies do get bored and want to go out but they don't last much longer than it takes to reach the sidewalk.

Finally, the weather is getting bearable. I actually turned the heater on this morning. The doggies have made themselves two bumps under a blanket.

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Sulky Pups

Dear Ellen:

Fips and Rosco are in a snit. They had a spat last night over some doggie issue) and went into a royal sulk when I separated them with a bark of my own. Neither would look at the other and each demanded total reassurance from me which meant that I spent the night immobilized and sandwiched between two affirmatively snuggling doggies.

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Doggie Worries

I have been so busy with trashing and packing I hardly noticed that the dogs have been busy watching me trashing and packing.... until just a moment ago when I turned around and saw....

two very uncertain and worried doggies.

Awwwww. The poor l'il guys. What is it with us humans that we think they don't think about things we can't explain to them?

I went over sat down next to Fips and beckoned for Rosco to join us in a hugging & cooing fest. Everything was going to be OKAY. Somewhat -- but not entirely -- reassured, Fips went out and rolled in the grass.

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