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?