Mele Kalikimaka

Mr Nando Goes Swimming

I've never met a Malamute who likes seawater.  Fresh water, yes -- Allie used to love to swim in the creek in Austin.  But I've always heard that Mallies won't go in the ocean -- that they have an instinct that only frozen sea ice is navigable.  Missy is horrified if she gets a paw wet on the beach!  But Mr Nando walks straight into the water and swims like a champ.

When he's done with his swim, Nando bodysurfs back out like a true Hawaiian!

Sneaky Sneakerson

So I'm sitting minding my own business watching TV and crocheting and I hear some noises from the kitchen.  Missy is not on her bed, but it doesn't sound like her eating.  Must investigate.

So I tiptoe over to the kitchen and voilá! A headless Malamute.  Or rather, a dog stuffed up to the shoulders in the supposedly dog-proof treats container. 

She delicately extracts a large bone-shaped cookie, takes it to her bed and insouciantly proceeds to demolish it before my admiring eyes.  Censorious eyes.  Ahem.

A while later, I'm sitting at the computer minding my own business doing Facebook when I hear the sliding glass door quietly slide open.  Missy is not on her bed.  Sigh.

Yes, indeed, the old girl has gone on walkabout to visit Fernando the foster boy in his pen and lead me a merry chase before she sashays back into the house, big brown eyes alight.

When did the Miss get so sneaky?

I merely do not tromp. Sneaky indeed -- Missy out

And-oh! what a funny boy

Our foster is a true Hawaiian.  He likes to swim!!  Yes, a Malamute who swims like a little otter.  Who knew?

My sister discovered this while visiting from Kauai.  She took the boy for a run -- which he does very nicely, on a loose leash -- and he showed some interest in rocks and a tidepool.  So she let him explore a bit and before she knew it, he was in the water!

We were so used to Missy being totally allergic to seawater that both of us had a hard time believing he actually likes to swim, but he goes in beyond the break, tools around and  bodysurfs back out!  Too cute.  He will make a great companion for a beach-loving, athletic Maui Malamute lover.

Swimming in salt water? That's just wrong.  The only good sea water is ice.  --- Missy out

Welcome And'o

Into our lives has come And'o from Oahu.  We are fostering him until he can be neutered and can find a forever home.  He is still very skittish but is of course in love with Missy and gives her many tongue kisses through the pen.

He has had a few adventures on Maui already.

First, he escaped his pen and dashed into the house.  This was exciting! The pen is brand new and should not be escapable!

Then, he has refused his food.  This did not stop the red fire ants from converging on his dish.  It was quite interesting extracting the dish and performing a tarantella while screeching in the bat range. We shall come to another arrangement.


And'o walks nicely on a loose leash and has been on lots of walks.  He knows a few commands, and is awfully cute, so he should find a home soon.  Neuter tomorrow, then we'll see how he likes the collar.  All ants eradicated!!!!! 

Princess

So I got up around 2 a.m. to work on my taxes and wandered into the living/work room. 

Sitting in the middle of Missy's dog bed was not on Alaskan Malamute but a huge, bug-eyed frog.  It just sat there staring at me very calmly. 

Of course I freaked out.  Panic mode! Someone has turned my princess into a frog!

Ran outside and whew!  There she was, sleeping under the moon, my sweet Missy.  It was just a frog. 

I tiptoed around it gingerly and in the morning it was gone.  And my taxes were done.

Sad Old Dog

Missy has been convincing me that she is a sad older dog -- walking slowly, sighing, sleeping a lot, not eating her food with the usual gusto.  So of course I thought I could trust her.  As usual, she was simply keeping an eye on the groceries and lulling me into a state of lowered vigilance.

Case in point:  The other day I took a pizza out of the freezer and put it in the toaster oven.  Missy uncharacteristically showed no interest and continued to slumber on her dog-bed.  Suspecting nothing, I left the pizza on on the counter to cool and took a phone call.

On my return, there was no pizza anywhere no be found, only a very self-satisfied Malamute licking her chops and twinkling her snappy brown eyes at me.

It was really good, only not the green peppers -- Missy out

Late Whale Watch

Went for a late whale watch with Sue L. from Alberta, what a a hoot!

Left from Maalaea Harbor this time, just beautiful,

toodled around the gorgeous West Maui Mountains.  Unusually green and fuzzy at this time of year.

Followed a trio of 2 males and a female, discovered a female with an adorable baby -- spent the rest of the time watching mama teaching the baby tricks like slaps and breaches.  Too cute!  Hard to remember the pup is as big as a bus itself ...  Stopped off to see the turtles.  What a great trip.

Topped off with drinks at Buzz's, of course.  Next time, the Ocean Center to visit the rays.

Pacific Whale Foundation

Batshit Crazy Birthday

For a 56-year-old, I'm still pretty strong.  How did I find out?

Well, it was the single gal's worst nightmare.  I got locked into the bathroom!  Did Missy go for help or unlock the door from the outside?    Noooooo, she had a nice nap throughout.  I tried to use the scissors and stuff available to remove the hopelessly locked doorknob, but no luck.

So I kicked out the door.

Seriously.

I went batshit crazy, got all claustrophobic, and started kicking at the door.  First a little hole next to the doorknob to try to open it from the outside -- nope, locked -- then a huge hole big enough for my enbonpoint to crawl out of.  Got big sratches up my legs from the wood, but hey, I was a Amazon!  A Cowgirl!  A Badass Bitch!  Kicking down a door!!! Booyah!

Smacked by a dog

Hmmm, Missy is pretty sparky for a fourteen-year-old.

Yesterday we were getting ready to hit the beach.  I loaded up the car and then went to call Missy, who was howling in the house.

I opened the back gate and leaned down to catch her, but she barreled straight into my face, smashing me against the water spigot.  I was wearing sunglasses which took the brunt, but still got a good egg on the temple and a shiner this morning. 

Of course Missy ran out into the drive and had to be caught and cajoled into the car.  What a character!

Can't a dog barf anymore?

Without being dragged off to the vet?

I suppose my humom did not terribly enjoy being awakened at 2 a.m. by my robust retching right outside her window.  Not to mention three more times before 8 a.m.  In any case, she hit the panic button and called the vet, and there I was getting osculated and palpated and every other -ated.  Never mind that I'm a Malamute and Mallies eat everything on earth and then sometimes we barf.  No, humom had to get all flustery and have me Tested.  

Getting Tested at the vet means the girl has to try to find a vein.  First she tries one arm and stabs around with no luck.  Then humom suggests shaving some of my thick fur, and they have better luck in the other arm, by which time I am thoroughly Fed Up.  Fortunately, the girl has some primo cookies.

The blood tests, of course, show that I am in the prime of life and in superb health.  The vet opines that I have "garbage gut" -- not nearly as elegant as my usual designation of Cast Iron Stomach.  

Several hundred dollars later, we're back home where I have a hearty dinner and make plans for something really appalling for this 2 a.m.
--- Missy out

Unsympathy

I keep having to learn that Missy is a dog.  A Malamute, no less.

I've been really sick recently and what do I get from the beast? An ounce of sympathy? Any consideration? Nuh-oh way in hell. 

Her Excellency the Queen of the Universe expects to be walked and played with and if I've got my head in the toilet or am lying on the floor groaning the quiet groans of the moribund, well, that's just too bad. Up and at 'em!  The Miss woooos and howls and whines and vocalizes up a storm to let me know her royal displeasure. 

Does she come and give me a gentle hug or a bit of companionship? Fuhgeddaboudit. She's all about talking the neighbor into taking her for a run.  This is an over-13-year-old dog who doesn't really run much anyway.  But she does like her routine, and that includes being waited on paw and claw.

And?  --- Missy out

Holiday Greeting

This is our Holiday Greeting for 2013

Missy and I wish everyone all the best for 2014!

Starbathing

Missy and I were out starbathing last night. 

The moon was encircled by a luminous moonbow.

No meteors, maybe tonight.

Kihei Nene

Nene in Kihei?  Consequence of the sequester, perhaps? 

The south Maui park hasn't been mown in ages, though the sprinklers still go off automatically -- result, a meadow as high as a Malamute's eye.  So we've been blessed by a visit from the graceful nene [endangered geese] who usually live in Haleakala crater.  Guess they spied the juicy meadow and  saw lots of yummy bugs on the menu.

Blessed, my furry patoot.  These snake-necked vermin started hissing and hooting as soon as they saw us coming and didn't stop yelling till we were out of sight.  Relaxing saunter in the park, I think not.  They can't be too endangered for me.  Mmmmm, goose... 
--- Missy out

Panda dog?

Miss Congeniality is becoming oddly mellow in her old age.  We have the computer tuned to the Atlanta Zoo pandacam and she's often to be found glued to the screen, watching Lun Lun and the twins doing exciting stuff like sleep and slooooowly turn over.  [I'm glued myself, of course].  Could Missy be wondering if those pups are going to develop a full mask and start howling? She's an open face herself but gives a great panda imitation when sleepy.  Is she sneaking bamboo in her diet, maybe?

Birds!

So here I am minding my own business eating a clandestine muffin and sending humom subliminal messages about taking me out for a walk (=drooling on her feet) when a noise like rusty hinges mating with a recently stabbed cat emanate from the yard. Humom and her sister dash to the window, to be effortlessly shouldered aside by a graceful Malamute. Outside shuffling along is a group of four ugly birds. Three are temptingly plump but otherwise quite nondescript except for the rakish feather crests on their tiny heads. Humom squeals, "peacocks!!"  Huh.  Little does she know that her delight will soon turn to projectiles lobbed at the noisemakers as they wake her up by thunking onto the roof and screeching at all hours of day and night. 

Do I make peacock tartare?  I do not.  I keep to the high road and ignore the stringy old things. If I go off the expensive kibble, how else will humom be motivated to keep the nose to the grindstone?  Let her find SOME purpose in life ... 

--- Missy out

Approaching Wailuku

miles and miles, acres and acres
of sugar cane
tossing in waves on the wind
and sailing across
the big white cruise ships
like Honolulu condos
with smokestacks
plowing through waves
of sugar cane

wonder what the kings espied
from the alanui ke alii
or Iao Valley
sailing across the taro loi
approaching Wailuku?

Attack

of the grooming scissors!

My humom has been chasing after me with a big pair of scissors, creating nasty bald spots on my britches.  What is a Mallie without her lovely fluffy britches??  It hasn't been easy, staying one paw ahead.  The race continues.

These is method to humom's madness.  She is chasing down clumps of nasty, sticky gooey gluey sap from the Norfolk pine in our yard.  How does this get all over my posterior, you ask?  Classic MRM maneuver!  We dig until roots are exposed, and continue digging until some bark is removed.  Some globs of sap unavoidably appear.  When the Mallie settles herself comfortably in the crater, sap transfer occurs.  Humom's reaction on stroking the Mallie and getting her fingers permanently stuck in a disgusting, smelly,  filthy substance is pretty priceless. 

She's tried putting up some rocks as a barrier, filling in my holes, putting down mulch and smelly stuff.  Not that I've stopped my devious ways.  We'll just have to see who's faster ...

--- Missy out

Glow Dog

So humom and I were listening to "Fresh Air" and a lady came on to talk about her book, Frankenstein's Cat: Cuddling up to Biotech's Brave New Beasts.  Humom said it sounded depressing.  Incredulous! This I must hear.  So we heard all about scattershot mutant mice and medicinal goats, and I was sadly disabused (isn't that a great word? doesn't mean what you think though) of my notion of F's cat. But wait! Science has something great for us Malamutes!

The cat lady, Emily Ants, starting talking about Glow Fish. These are not fish = food, but rather fish that hupeople keep around the house to tease cats and us dog people.  These Glow Fish are combined in some unthinkable way with other beings to glow in bright colors!

Well, finally science has come up with something the discerning Mallie and MRMer can use.  Hand over a couple of these Glowy Fish and let's see if we can gain the capacity to glow in the dark!

-- no morning or night jogger need ever worry about his/her pulse rate again
-- every school production of The Hound of the Baskervilles will have them screaming in the aisles
-- when you need to go out at night and go and breathe gently into humom or hudad's sleeping face, you're guaranteed to get RESULTS!
-- need to cross a dark road? not in a big hurry? no problemo
-- looking for that special surprise for the mailman? Just go to the window and smile
-- night mushing! arooooooooooooooo

Being of the stealth Mallie variety myself, I look forward to disappearing, as I do regularly, just to tone up humom's system, y'know, and then, when she's yelled herself hoarse, looked for me everywhere and is about to cry, appear exactly behind her, pulsing with a gentle glow, halo firmly in place.  Ah, science.  --- Missy out