Tag: It’s a Dogs Life

Senorita Jakita Arrives

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Finally, we have arrived at our destination, the Cemetery, a Gated, (from Sunset to Sunrise) Security Patrolled landscape of headstones, monuments, angels and flat stones of all sizes, and various ages, starting some 200 hundred years ago.

The massive trees, that provide shade, conceal bird nests that are filled with chirping peepers every spring. There are paved streets, like a giant maze, that go around and around, then dump you back out to the streets.

In an attempt to ban the industrious Ladies of the Night that have been known to ply their trade in dark corners,  every Entrance / Exit has huge iron gates that are closed and padlocked every night at sundown.  I can not say for sure, but do you think the gates keep the dead in or the live out?

The Cemetery, padlocks on wrought iron fence, after Sundown, before Sunrise. See the stones and monuments of various ages, sizes, colors. Look at the massive old trees that are home to the birds and squirrels.
The Cemetery, padlocks on wrought iron fence, after Sundown, before Sunrise.

Of course the graveyard has lots of benches, set up in the shade cast by the thick foliage of the leaves of the trees, where you can sit and recollect your past and plan your future.  The benches are sometimes occupied by the Homeless or those with Mental Health issues,  in our midst. Where else do they have to go?  They have breakfast, lunch and supper at the local Soup kitchen.  It is not like they have money to go shopping or family to visit so a bench in the shade works fine during the long, hot summer.  At night the shelters open their doors to give them the dignity of a bed to sleep in. The next morning, the process starts all over again.

Sometimes after complaints from the families of those occupying the plots, the Cemetery Security tell the Homeless to keep moving.  Ah, it is always a struggle between the Law-and-Order-Right versus the Do-Gooders-to-the-Left. What are we again, Momma?  Oh, yeah, we are Radical-Center-of-the-Road (like everyone should be). I note Momma nods to them, but no talking, to show respect for their privacy, she tells me. I don’t look at them or even wag my tail. Better to be ships that pass in the night, rather than to reject them, (true story, I am so ashamed but I feel their fear and uncertainty and back away if they reach out to pat me) or for me to intimidate, or frighten them. Best case scenario, I am invisible to them.

There are reams of huge, medium, and small flower beds to bedazzle your eyes which are full of plants, flowers, grasses of every size and color that attract butterflies, humming birds and tiny glowing fairies that sparkle like jewels in a crown. (I know they are there, I saw them).

So here I am, in the Cemetery, taking a rest between chasing squirrels - see all that different, stones and monuments, some hand carved. Also note the massive trees that had limbs torn from their trunks during the ice storm , leaving birds without nests and some benches with less shade.
So here I am, in the Cemetery, taking a rest between chasing squirrels – see all that different, stones and monuments, some hand carved. 

In the midst of all this paradise, the squirrels live, scampering from tree to tree, up the trunks, swinging from branch to branch. I mean, I believe the squirrels are begging me to bring it on. It keeps them in the game,  all dashing, flying and shrieking, ‘Nana, nana boo-boo…..you can’t get me’ and they are so right, I can’t.

There was not one inch of that graveyard I did not sniff Pre-Daddy-God-Rest-His Soul.  Like the wind, I moved from one section to the next, the world my oyster, sniffing and pawing, well, until, you know…Daddy went to Heaven and Momma  wanted him close to her and home and I just can not do that, Momma.  I can not tell you what it is, do I smell him, do I sense him, you ask?  I do not know what it is but it is too sad for me. I can go to any other part of the cemetery, please Momma, don’t pull me down there.  But Momma has a hard, practical head so we are here, let us visit Daddy, her will be done. Like in the poem, ‘In Praise of Older Women’ she bends over Daddy’s grave, willing to wash the limbs of her dead, feel the pain of others by the process of osmosis, and endures forever, hoping in some way to connect with that which was, and ever will be.

OK, I get it Momma, but I am not there yet. I am too young, and far too sensitive. It brings me pain and it brings you pain,  so I cannot condone it.  I am the Protector, you are the Protected. I will visit anywhere else in the grave yard.  Just don’t make me lay by Daddy’s grave. I am sorry. Maybe I am shallow,  but I am not like that little doggie that spent his days and nights at his master’s grave.

PS:  I read my Job Description carefully and my duties included serving the living.  There was nothing about graveyard vigils.

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Jakita Tells On Momma (Again)

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Did I tell you about the time Momma decided it was time to better anchor the cabinet which had a kind of, sort of, lean-to it, over the toilet to the bathroom wall? I thought not! It was a disaster, waiting to happen.

As Momma put her head down to look under to see where the screws were located, the whole cabinet crashed off the wall, on to the bathroom floor, ejecting all the junk collected for the past seventeen years since Momma had moved here.  The floor was knee-deep from hoarding old medications, empty prescription bottles, a rainbow of vitamins, hair clasps, soaps, treasures that should have been trashed long time ago. Momma’s Guardian Angels, the Arch Angels, God and Baby Jesus are the only ones who stood between Momma and a broken neck that day.

The Praying Angel - one of many who keep Momma safe from herself . At the bottom right see the Chinese dragon being carried in Manchu's arms, offering up more protection for a clumsy mumsy.
The Praying Angel – one of many who keep Momma safe from herself . At the bottom right see the Chinese dragon being carried in Manchu’s arms, offering up more protection for a clumsy mumsy.

Miraculously, all Momma was left with was a very bruised, somewhat swollen left arm, a little whiplash, from moving out from under the cabinets’ trajectory that any inanimate object produces. Also a lot more respect and knowledge that there are some things an eighty-five pound weakling should not tackle.

But then there is the other thing, it almost feels like gossip to report it, you may accuse me of being mean-spirited but it has to be said, if I am going to be allowed to ‘tell all’ that confounds me.  Since the time I was able to walk on a leash, every afternoon, we would cross busy Centre Street (good job I am on a leash because the way the traffic flies past, I’d be meeting Zanny’s fate), and go past the Friendly Lady’s home. I just hope, hope, hope she has her long-haired hamster outside in his cage. It is so much fun to sniff him and watch his long whiskers quiver. Then we continue our walk further, stop to talk to Neighborhood Landlord, with the heels of his shoes held on with thick elastic bands. No, no, he is not poor, he owns many apartments and houses (and by the looks of his various gateways, stuffed with unplated cars, a Curbside Car Dealer)  that make him a good income but for years he got his safety shoes for free, thanks to his union job, and by George, he is not paying for new ones, any time soon.

Also, even though the Neighborhood Landlord’s son makes a gazillion $ in IT working at NASA Johnson Space Centre, down in Houston, Texas, he goes down every year to renovate his home – no use paying for it when Dad can do it for free. No wonder our economy is floundering. Anyway, an elastic works just fine, well, maybe, he conceded, not so good when it rains because his feet get wet but the home improvements for his son gives

Just sitting here, ready to go. Like the post man - rain, sleet, or snow we walk . Rain Coat Check, Rain Bonnet check, Leash check
Just sitting here, ready to go.
Like the post man – rain, sleet, or snow, we walk .

him a reason to go to Texas every winter.  Not like his life had been easy, with his wife, the mother of his son being killed in a car accident when the lad was barely seven years old.  I tell you, I sit and listen, trying not to whine and get impatient. Everybody has a story.  What they need is someone to tell it to. That is where Momma comes in.

Up  we go, past The Dog Lady’s house and I run up to the steps for a cuddle from her and a romp with her SPCA Black Poodle Rescue Dog, Princess, that surely has the life of Riley. Now The Dog Lady has taken in a long-eared, sad eyed beagle dash hound mix pup that no one else wanted – she is a good woman.  But don’t get any ideas, Momma.  I am not as good-natured as Princess. Remember, everything is mine, mine and mine and I don’t share…with other dogs.

Finally we have reached our destination – The Cemetery – the gated rolling acres of well nourished, maintained professionally cut grass, each blade seeming to be the same length and the same color of green. (It belongs to the City and Momma pays taxes ….as well spent over $12,000.00 for a plot ….so it should be well-kept).

 

GravestonesThere are headstones, monuments, angels and tombstones of all sizes, and various ages, starting some 200 hundred years ago. The massive trees, that provide shade are brimming with bird nests that are filled with chirping peepers every spring. Like a maze, there are paved streets, that go around and around, then dump out to the streets. Every night all the gates, every entrance, are locked. I can not say, for sure, if it is to keep the dead in or the live out. I am keeping an ear to the ground….I will let you know more when I know more. Pinkie Promise.

 

 

Momma Is Back

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And so the story goes, Momma and Wonder Boy went off to a wedding (picture below provides proof or is it all just a hoax) in the land of milk and honey, where the freedom bell rings. The bride was so beautiful, so gracious and now by marriage, so Canadian that she is going to be watching hockey every Saturday night. Well, let’s not get carried away, we don’t watch hockey and we are Canadian, but don’t tell…it’s another secret.   Not enough can be said about the groom, an Officer and a Gentleman,  because he is handsome, smart and beloved by Momma and Wonder Boy.

The Proof Picture: When the call went out, this is what Canadians at a Wedding look like. Actually it is what the Symons and Powell Family look like, at a wedding.The lovely bride stands in front of the handsome JAG groom. Wonder Boy, resplendent in his Tux, is in the middle, back row while Momma, in her Wedding dress, as she calls it, stands in 1st row, 2nd from right between her brother and her sister, Mother of the groom.
The Proof Picture.

A big ‘Shout Out’ to Super Boy who did a most marvelous job of entertaining, feeding, and nurturing myself, the Protector of All, whether it is warranted or not, as well as the Kitty Club Med. The Superior    Bad Boy Andy Cat, got in a huff when Momma and Wonder Boy did not return in 24 hours. Diva Calico Gen Cat confiscated Momma’s bed, licking her creamy paws, waiting, because what else does a cat do, and Camouflage Charlie, who ensconced her self in the basement, eyes on the food dishes, dodging  and weaving when a shadow moved until hunger forced her up stairs. However, let’s not forget our Clem-Call-of-the Wild Cat who recognized it was a foreign Two Footed running the Pet Sanctuary.

What does that mean?  Well, this Super Boy had to be tthoroughly vetted before Clem-Call-of-the Wild Cat pledged allegiance . After all, when Momma went to the Convention, Clem came in for a quick bite and, what do you know, somehow got locked inside when Super Boy went to bed.

Check it out! Check it out! On my favorite arm, Check! On my favorite knitted afghan, Check! In the sun porch, Check. Back to wall, eyes to front, Check, Check! So bring it on!
Clem’s Check Out Time.

This was a situation.  Colony Cats were depending on Clem,while he was trapped in paradise, (roof over his head, food, water for his belly, and his choice of a soft bed to sleep on). Meanwhile his Colony Family waited in fear, for his safe return.  The solution was to hurdle himself at the bedroom door till Super Boy woke up and opened the front door so Clem could make his great escape in to the dark and dreary night, back to his responsibilities to keep the wild cats and Forest Freaks at bay, bring food for the Baby Mama’s, and stand on guard for thee and thee and thee.  This Super Boy needed some training on the ‘Let the Cat In and Let the Cat Out’ Routine. The Colony’s very existence depended upon it.

Once upon a time, a long time ago, Momma's sister, Itty Bitty had a Royal Prince and called him Super Boy. Many years later he found his Super Girl pictured here with Jakita (who looks like she did not get enough sleep the night before or maybe she wants a silly hat to wear, too). Meanwhile Andy, the Brainiac has found a comfortable perch on Super Boy's leg and he is there for the duration. About all the tired eyes, well, it was a Christmas morning!!!!!!!!!!!
Super Boy, his Super Girl pictured here with Jakita and Andy, the Brainiac.

Other than those learning curves, Super Boy was, well, Super.  He snuggled with me, put up with the kitties and all those food dishes, numerous times a day.  Makes my head spin because it is my job to eat leftovers. He took me on long walks, winding our way, through parks and sidewalks, me on the leash, him on his bike.

Know what?  Don’t tell Momma, she’d never understand, but I kind of miss Super Boy. I will keep you posted….

 

 

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Senorita Jakita Announces Momma’s Plans

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Now where did Momma and Super Boy go, you may ask?  To a Political Party Convention. No, I am sworn to secrecy, but it is not hard to establish who passed through the city this weekend.  So, I like Parties, (and I understand there was plenty of parties to attend), why not take me?  Apparently, it would cost $75.00 more to bring a doggie overnight.  Why that is outrageous, even more than paid per person but yet, am I not worth that, I wonder?  What is my real value, monetarily and more importantly, spiritually?  Where do I actually fit in this family paradigm?  Just asking, just asking.

So even though I love Super Kid and he treats me with the respect I deserve, and does a  job on the Indoor Cat (Charlie) , Indoor / Outdoor Cats (Andy and Gen) and Stray Cat (Clem), I felt despondent.

Note to Super Kid Clem, The Stray Cat (2 years???) May or May not show up looking for food Comes inside to eat but mostly Outside Cat - Usually comes calling for food one/day –sometimes more often. Likes some petting but ears flatten and you may get a thump with a fast paw, if you seem too friendly Still abiding by Clem’s Rules of the Wild!
NOTE TO SUPER KID
Clem: The Stray Cat (2 years???)
May or May not show up looking for food  – Comes inside to eat but mostly
Outside Cat – Usually comes calling for food once a day –sometimes more often.
Likes some petting but ears flatten and you may get a thump with a fast paw, if you seem too friendly.
Still abiding by Clem’s Rules of the Wild!

That is why I gave Momma the cold shoulder treatment when she got home.  Wonder Boy, he is gone every weekend and like a stray cat, always comes back, ‘dragging his tale behind him ‘ so to speak.

So that was okay, I understood those parameters, but not Momma.  Is she just going to take off one day and not return? We simply must establish the rules, going forward.

I was just coming out of my huff and then I heard the rumor – Wonder Boy and Momma are off again, across the border, this time. Do they not realize that guns are part of the First Amendment, in that lawless land.  They do, but still, Wonder Boy and Momma are heading south to the wedding of a nephew, a  first cousin and a JAG Advocate – impressive, I am sure he is a most worthy, lovable being but I will be alone and miserable, with Super Kid, who will fuss over me to eat, please eat and I will look at him with sad eyes that say:  ‘Oh, thou has been the cause of this anguish, my Mother.’ (T.Bayley)

Here I will lay and stew and worry until Wonder Boy and Momma are back in the land of gun controls and free health care! Is it fair to have to suffer for others' questionable choices?
Here I will lay and stew and worry until Wonder Boy and Momma  are back in the land of gun controls and free health care!
Is it fair to have to suffer for others’ questionable choices?

And since this is the path my Momma has chosen, (shame on you, Momma) there will be no more posts by the cats or me  until she returns because, well, we don’t do Word. We are the story, she is the vessel that records, checks, double checks, again and again,takes pictures, posts pictures, then posts the final product.

Make sure you all come back in a week or so.  We will have plenty to tell.  After all, our job is to get you looking at the bigger picture, if you have the eyes to see. We take it seriously, not gadding about like Momma, not a care in the world, it seems to me……..

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Senorita Jakita Feels Betrayed

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Soooooooooooooo, what the heck is this?  Like Friday afternoon, Wonder Boy and Momma each picked up over night bags, and said they would see me tomorrow.  Last I saw of them was the car heading down Centre Street.

Do you see the gleam in my eyes and the wildly divergent shades of black tipped silver, gold, beige, and browns with a white shirt. Look at those creamy paws and that feathery tail -Do I look 'mavellous dawling'?
NOTE TO SUPER BOY:  What does Jakita need? Food and water and you know… attention. A walk a day through the park or the graveyard and the back yard: (make sure the gate is closed). When @ school, she can hold it.

Do you ever notice how time swells when you are alone? It metastases, as it stealthily sends fingers of fear to penetrate your heart and soul.  I felt betrayed by my Momma.  Last I heard we have a 24/7 CODE RED Contract.  We are to be within shouting distance of each other, at all times– at least that is what I signed up for.

The evening came, the street lamps came on and I felt so alone, with three cats ( I do not consider Clem – he is beyond my control) to get through this unchartered territory.

NOTE TO SUPER BOY: Andy: The Self Appointed Boss Friendly, Non aggressive but sometimes swats to keep other pets in line, usually inside most of the day – outside @ night Gen: The Diva Calico - Sister to Andy - Most Likely: To Clone because of looks, temperament and playability at 11 years old. Loves Wonder Boy's bed at night , my bed in the day but usually goes Out with Andy @ night
NOTE TO SUPER BOY:
Andy:   The Self Appointed Boss – Friendly, Non aggressive but sometimes swats to keep other  pets in line, usually inside most of the day – outside @ night.
Gen:     The Diva Calico – Sister to Andy – Most Likely: To Clone because of looks, temperament and  playability at 11 years old. Loves Wonder Boy’s bed at night , my bed in the day but   usually goes out with Andy @ night.

 

Not like Andy Cat or Gen Cat cared.     They sat there licking their paws, leisurely walking over to their food dishes, taking a mouth or two, sauntering back to their favorite perches and looked at me like, ‘What?’  They did not seem to understand the gravity of the situation.  Was this the last food we would ever get?  Would we be alone forever?

However, Charlie Cat was in a complete panic.  Maybe she read my face, maybe she understood the significance of over night bags.  She had lived on the Moraine, remember.  She never wanted to have to ever leave this house in order to find food to exist.  That being established, she parked her sturdy body in front of the cat food dishes and growled and hissed when Andy or Gen wandered over.  They ignored her, took a bite just to show her, they were not backing down.  Oh, oh, are we going to have another situation like in the book Animal Farm.  I do not need anything else to worry about!

NOTE TO SUPER BOY: Charlie: 12 years, Calico with Matted Humps – INSIDE ONLY CAT - The loner – does not go outside EVER. Fearful which results in Hissing CIA Training - blends in to environment so may be impossible to find - Likely to disappear but listen for: Loud purrwith you
NOTE TO SUPER BOY:
Charlie:  12 years, Calico with Matted Humps – INSIDE ONLY CAT – The loner – does not go  outside EVER. Fearful which results in hissing. CIA / Commando Training – blends in environment so may be impossible to find – Likely to disappear but listen for: Loud purr which may alert friend or foe.

So as I sat and stewed. Somehow, I missed the jingle of keys in the door.  Whoa, I know him, that is Super Kid. For the first time in my life, I couldn’t even bark or wag my tail to welcome Super Kid in to our Sanctuary.  Gen and Andy got up, went over for a pat and scratch.  Suddenly I got my sailor legs up and running.  I pushed Gen and Andy out-of-the-way. They retreated good-naturedly, as I enjoyed my first worry free minute in hours. Yeah, we would get food, water, nurturing, and maybe even a walk. Out of the corner of my eye I saw paranoid  Charlie Cat as she raced, down the stairs, to find a place to hide and wait out the take over of her territory by friendly fire. I did not blame her.  I may have done the same if I would actually ‘do’ staircases.  I know, I know, I could fill up an appointment book of a doggie shrink very succinctly. But there is more, there is always more…so till to-morrow to-morrow….

 

 

Senorita Jakita Reveals Momma

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So really,  tell me, you ask,  what kind of trouble does Momma give you? First off, she can not sit in one place more than five minutes. Then she’s off, letting the cats in or out, getting a drink of water, running to the computer, busy at house work, shoveling snow in the winter, weeding in the summer and  rearranging the basement or the garage. Momma, please, just sit down in one place, I beg.  I need my rest.  I am a dog with a medical history, don’t you know. Sometimes I just feel dizzy, following around behind you.

Can't you see, Momma? Don't go dragging that ladder in. I got my pillow, the Remote and my BFF beside me, grooming herself. I do not want to be worrying over you climbing up to change a light bulb. You are never going to break the glass ceiling, leave that for the like of Hilary (Clinton).
Can’t you see, Momma? Don’t go dragging that ladder in. I got my pillow, the Remote and my BFF beside me, grooming herself. I do not want to be worrying over you climbing up to change a light bulb. You are never going to break the glass ceiling, leave that for the likes of Hilary (Clinton).

When I have a really bad day, I just pray, ‘Momma, just  slow down’….which brings the next question. Do puppy prayers get heard in heaven? I pray, I do – maybe because Momma is the ‘praying type’ – but maybe because I truly want to bring happiness, protection and justice to Two and Four Footed creatures.  I am not proud, I will take what ever help I can get, to achieve that end. Also, I like the whole idea of the Golden Rule, the older and wiser I get – the doing on to others as you would have them do onto you.

If anyone needs to pay his or her penance for impatience, attitude and occasionally not listening, maybe it is (was, we hope), me and don’t say I said it, but Momma too.  You can be sure I want to run free with Teddy and Zanny in Pet Heaven (Teddy  will have to keep any eye on Zanny until I get there so she does not run off). I just imagine catapulting into  the arms of RIP Daddy, where I understand that the finest architects design amazing structures that are  inlaid with shimmering gemstones, creating a sea of rainbows.  The grass, like a thick carpet,  is always Kelly green, bold pillars are sculpted from pure quartz and  crystal. It is rumored that the Pearly Gates are made of the finest  gold and silver, its’ metallic brilliance off set  with different creamy colours and  sizes  of pearls, some of which, it is said (I kid you not) are the size of beach balls.

Momma's creamy pink, grey, white pearls withturquoise. No wonder Momma loves gems. I got to get me a pearl studded choker.
Momma’s creamy pink, grey, white pearls with turquoise. No wonder Momma loves gems. I got to get me a pearl studded choker.

Who wouldn’t want to make an investment now, for a future like that?

But I am getting off track – what else does Momma do that ‘takes the joy out of your living’, you ask.  Well, she gets that rickety ladder out of the shed room, (Okay , I know what the heck is a Shed Room?) brings it to the kitchen, opens it up, climbs right to the top rung, as it wobbles precariously back and forth.  She stretches more, more, until her fingertips are just barely touching the light bulb she has to replace.  I am at the bottom, just whimpering,

She looks like trouble to me!
She looks like trouble to me!

‘Get down from there, Momma, you are going to fall, this is way too dangerous, you are going to fall and break your neck or back or something equally as importance to my well-being.  What can a little doggie do, when you are lying, in a heap at the bottom of the ladder? I can’t call        9-1-1.  Why can’t you do this when Wonder Boy is home?’  ‘Oh, okay.’ I say in a huff, ‘If you insist on climbing up there, I am leaving the kitchen.  That way, at least, if you fall, it won’t be on my sorry bones.’  Ya think she listens to me – no, Momma is one of those ‘learn the hard way’ types and a very lucky one at that, so far.

And there is more and I vow to tell it all.

 

Sir Teddy (Bear) Spinner by Senorita Jakita

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A handsome, loyal Angel Dog who was steadfast and true. We miss you Teddy.
A handsome, loyal Angel Dog who was steadfast and true. We miss you Teddy.

If Daddy had Zanny, did Momma have a dog before me, you may wonder? Yes, she had a beautiful Angel Dog, Teddy, a bright white miniature American Eskimo who, I am told, hardly did anything wrong in is his life.

Well, I don’t believe that, I think aloud. Momma says, well,  maybe, once or twice he needed to be reprimanded, like his first grooming when he nipped Momma as she brushed him and Momma,  Quick-Draw-McGraw, tapped him on his snout and Teddy never did that again. If only I could learn so easily.

Of course, being an Angel Puppy,  he never chewed anything, snapped, snarled or growled and on top of that could be left outside, on the front porch and NEVER ran away.  Are you sure he was a dog, Momma??? That theory was even tested one day when Momma, always in a rush Momma, put Teddy outside in the morning, then went off to work.  At the time poor Daddy was recuperating from open heart surgery so every night after work Momma would go visit him at one of those Down Town World Class Cardiac Hospitals.  She did not even know she had created a problem till she got home, late. The moon was shining high in the sky, on a cold, winter night. There sat Angel Dog Teddy, waiting patiently, on the top step by the front door.  I mean, I do not get it, was he missing a dog gene?

Like me, Teddy came from a Puppy Mill, (a ramshackle barn crammed with all different purebred  breeds and sizes of dogs, from teacup to St. Bernard’s). He was so happy, happy, happy when he was handed over to Momma. He buried his head on her shoulder, clinging to her for dear life, realizing that he had a matter of seconds to bond so that he could become part of her Forever Family.  Teddy shadowed Momma even more than I do, protecting her from every person he thought was a threat – like the Courier Delivery Man who got a little too close, so was subjected to a sharp nip in the ankles. Even at my fiercest, I am not that brave.

I am told Teddy mostly  abided or ignored the cats, feeling superior because he slept on a doggie pillow at the end of Momma’s bed. With Zanny, he showed his nurturing side, though never excessively. While Teddy was napping,  Zanny was allowed  to curl up in a ball by his tail, in order to sleep.

Teddy with white cotton candy fur and Zanny, the ultimate Yorkie, settle into their napping positions.
Teddy with white cotton candy fur and Zanny, the ultimate Yorkie, settled into their napping positions.

Still, my competition will always be the Perfect Angel Teddy who was (like myself) an Aquarius, strangely enough. One weakness Teddy had, just like me.  He was always seeking and demanding the attention of the Two Footed, longing to be patted and praised, while all other family pets were to be ignored, as if they did not exist.  At least I sniff, kiss and groom the kitties, happily rolling up in a ball with them to nap – not our Teddy, he did not ‘do’ cats.

No one is without flaws, myself included.  Still it gives me pleasure to report, one time, I am told,  when Teddy was only four or five months old, he stole the night guard for Momma’s teeth. The minute he popped it in his mouth, the sharp wires that held it in place, drilled into his gums and he thought, ‘OMG, what is this?  I will never be able to eat again, save me’. He choked, gagged and shook his head until the little guard went flying out of his mouth, across the bedroom floor where Momma heard the commotion and scooped it up.  The guard was obviously misshapen and no longer wearable or even salvageable. Yet Teddy looked so ashamed that Momma  did not have the heart to chastise him.  Lesson Learned: Momma should not leave things on the bedside table and if she did, Teddy must ignore them, to avoid pain.

Besides his few faults, Teddy had a couple of amusing but harmless quirks. Sometimes if he was in the kitchen and Momma  called him to the living room, he would not walk in forwards, no, he would turn and back in. The ‘Spinner’ was added to his name when he was registered at the American Kennel Club because he loved to spin in circles as a puppy, like a white whirling dervish, hearing, feeling music not audible to the world around him.

So sometime, you may understand, I feel, give me a break, don’t tell me any more, I feel like I am gagging on his goodness.  Teddy and Fidel – Angel puppies, the two of them…no wonder Momma longed for a testosterone male.

I'll do anything to fiesta, even wear this itchy pink tutu that Momma and her guests thinks I look adorable in!
I’ll do anything to fiesta, even wear this itchy pink tutu that Momma and her guests thinks I look adorable in!

Now, with the facts before you, I’m not sure what you think, but even Momma admits Teddy was a little too serious. I would say that I am way more fun – cause girls just wanna have fun – ask Cyndi Lauper.

Teddy lived a long and charmed life, succumbing to ill-health in his old age, winging his way to Pet Heaven. I like to think impetuous little Zanny and steadfast sturdy Teddy were there to greet Daddy when he reached his Greater Reward in Paradise. But what happens once we pass, well that is all hearsay, it can not be proved scientifically or in a court of law.

Ready, Set, Go for the game of tag with Andy-Long-Legs.
Ancestor of forefathers.

However, I am just telling you what I heard whispered by Momma, the kitties, even the squirrels, sitting up on the car garage roof, chirping down secrets thorough the ages passed on from their forefathers  who lived at this home since its creation in 1867. I’d say they pretty much have their finger on he pulse.

You can see, I think a lot about Teddy.  I may be a work in progress but at least now I  attempt to live up to the fine example Teddy left.

Are you listening,  are you  with me, Zanny, or are you off on one of your wild goose chases?)

 

Senorita Jakita on Xanadu (Zanny)

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After much negotiation, I got permission to tell the story of Xanadu (aka Zanny). Such a tragic tale, Momma could not talk about it without weeping, yet willingly bared her soul to me so I could pass on ‘her-story’. So exquisitely Yorkshire, born black, which morphed in to dark steel-blue like a horse blanket, thrown across her back,  and further accentuated by tan markings, on her chest, paws and  face.

Zanny takes Tigger to wherever she is headed. Note how she shows no mercy in her method of transportation. Poor Tigger.
Zanny takes Tigger to wherever she is headed. Note how she shows no mercy in her method of transportation. Poor Tigger.

We can not go backwards in time but       If only:  Daddy had shut you in a bedroom since he had to remove               the Front Door to get the Window Pane replaced.  If only:  Momma had noticed you had taken off. If only:  You had sauntered around the neighbor hood (I know, I know, Zanny did not DO saunter) and returned  to wait on the step to get left back in, like the cats do. If only:  You had listened to Wonder Boy when he commanded you STOP.

No, by this stage, you were in a full-blown panic attack and rushed in to the swift moving morning rush hour traffic. Like an out of control meteorite, you streaked under the back wheels of a car that could not react fast enough to save you.  The young driver was heartsick that her car had taken the life of a puppy but we can not blame her.  Life is all in the timing and laws of averages and you had used all your Chances to Evade the Grim Reaper, over the six years of your tumultuous life.

As for me, I am not suicidal.  I always stop and wait for the disadvantaged Two Footers to catch up. Of course, neither was Zanny. She was an adorably gorgeous yet high-strung Yorkie without an ability to bring reasoning to the equation.  But I promise you, I just have one more ‘gone with the wind’ story to tell you later. It just happened a few days ago but then you’ll realize, it brought Momma and I to an understanding, so it is all good, trust me!

Momma says some times we can not help our rash behavior...it depends on the alignment of the planets on the day you are born...apparently Zanny's chart was capricious.
Momma says some times we can not help our rash behavior…it depends on the alignment of the planets on the day you are born…apparently Zanny’s chart was capricious.

Momma says because I am an Aquarius, I understand, at the end of the day that rules and regulations, policies and procedures are put in place for a reason, so it serves me well to obey them. (Zanny was a Scorpio but must have had some Pisces with her head in the clouds or Leo who love to party, possibly). I always have a goal (the food off your plate, the pillow on the couch to rest my head on, or a cat to groom or chase or tattle on). I painstakingly watch for the first opportunity to put the plan in motion. It is not just that open door Momma has to worry about.

Another Zanny tale was that she slept in Daddy’s bed, burying herself under a mound of blankets, staggering out to the kitchen each morning, looking bleary eyed and hung over, as if she indulged too much the night before.  However, by the time Daddy returned with his coffee and donut, she was ready and waiting to share it with him. She could eat anything and still be the size of nothing, Momma tells me.   Oh, I wish I had her rate of metabolism.

Zanny’s spontaneous zest for life was always getting her in trouble – like the time she was chasing the kitty cats and ended up falling down the staircase to the basement, blinding herself in the right eye. Even before I heard that story, I took one look down and vowed it was too suicidal for me to ever go down that staircase. To this day, I have never been to our basement. But poor Zanny never had a plan, though she always had an action.  No doubt that blind eye that hindered her from jumping on the couch, also contributed to the fact she did not see the car that claimed her life.

Jakita and Tigger scope out their territory, in tandem, heads and bodies posed to take on whatever life brings them. Jakita looks like a serious mother, ensuring Tigger is being readied for the world and its challenges.
Jakita and Tigger scope out their territory, in tandem, heads and bodies posed to take on whatever life brings them. Jakita looks like a serious mother, ensuring Tigger is being readied for the world and its challenges.

PS:  Zanny, I am taking good care of your little stuffed Tigger.  Like you, I carry him in my mouth from room to room, to sit on the doggie cushion or couch with me.  Like you, sometimes I have to give him a good shaking to smarten him up but mostly he behaves, probably better than you and me.  Momma tells me you used to sometimes take helpless little Tigger outside and she’d have to go out in the dark, with a flashlight to find poor Tigger, all alone and weeping.

Just in case you get reincarnated and come back down to earth, think about your past life.  It is never too early to self evaluate and find  corrective actions for the next time.  Even considering a better way, for a better day, gives you good karma, I understand.

PPS:  Zanny, you were a true north strong and free spirit.  Sometimes  I swear I still feel you hanging around, reminding us, no one knows what the morrow brings forth.

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Senorita Jakita Draws Up A Plan

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I'm in the Jailhouse now....my karma has caught up wit me!
I’m in the Jailhouse now….my karma has caught up wit me!

So...none of us are perfect but, I must admit, one annoying habit I had as a puppy, was to be gone like the wind, like a Jack Rabbit, anytime I saw an opportunity and an open door. I remember a go-round with the Pizza Delivery Guy, Momma, Daddy, our niece and great-nephew as they all tried to corral me, while I played ‘catch me if you can’.  I mean, I even stopped, waited up for them, because between you and me, those Two Footed are helplessly slow. When they just about had me in their reach, I took off in a frenzy, with no GPS tracking record of where I was   headed and no consideration for the outcome. It was just a game of chase that I had played endlessly, back in the barn. No use in betting against me, I always win.

In the end, I would tire, plant myself down on the ground, panting loudly, my tongue  hanging out of my mouth, my eyes bright with the latest victory.  Only then would I let Momma pick me up and take me home. I licked her fingers to let her know how much I appreciated the lift because I was exhausted, my heart about to burst from all the excitement.

Let Sleeping Dog Lie, Charlie!
Sleeping like an angel after the Great Escape!

To tell you the truth, I could not tell you how many times, with how many people I played this game but Momma was always involved in the rescue attempt, although Wonder Boy probably was the winner of capturing me . I do not seem to be able to outfox Wonder Boy. He must be even more clever than me, is that possible? Daddy was involved in the hunts often, as well, but he loved me so much that he was putty in my hands.  In his eyes, I did no wrong but he hated me running away because that was how the puppy love of his life, Zanny met her Waterloo

But more about that sorry story later, back to me, because it is all about me….What else did I do to poor Momma besides run away, snarl and growl, occasionally nip, not stop or come on command, chew everything (now I only chew kleenex I find lying around – I noticed they always get tossed in the garbage anyway so it is not like I am destroying something that has added-on-value).

I love company, be it friends or family and  demand attention every time someone comes in the door, like my very life depended on their stamp of approval. I will even suffer the humiliation and itch of a party dress to get their attention.

I'll do anything to fiesta, even wear this itchy pink tutu that Momma and her guests thinks I look adorable in!
I’ll do anything to fiesta, even wear this itchy pink tutu that Momma and her guests thinks I look adorable in!

It has got to be that I go through life looking for every Two Footed to build my ego because of that Barn-of-Horrors I lived in, during my first six weeks of life. Not only was the barn stone cold physically and mentally, it was a super unsettling atmosphere for healthy development of a puppy’s  emotional quotient.  In any case, once everyone has greeted me, I always go back to shadowing Momma because she needs me. Trust me,  I never know what she is up to.

Truth be told, it is not like Momma is a saint.  She listens about the same amount as me and if I heard correctly, that started the minute she was born.  Her mother nicknamed her Quite Contrary, which my Daddy would remind her about often.  But Daddy, who was her constant companion for so many years, went out one day and did not return, yes, another story that makes me cry.

You see Wonder Boy is busy, at university three days a week, at work three-day a week, and in between, he has a Social Life – he is a Leo, you know. Most of the time I am by Momma’s side, so I feel totally responsible for her well-being.

Sometimes I think, Momma is like an out of control Politician on speed or his alcoholic wife and dysfunctional kids. She does not make life easy for me. So that is why a year ago, I kicked protection up a notch or two, of the protectee (Momma) as per Secret Service lingo.  Unfortunately, I have no team to back me up,  and no gun (we are talking the True North Strong and Free).

It is just me and a plan – always a plan.

Senorita Jakita’s ‘Sophie Alert’

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What ever is with Momma?  Does she forget? I am a doggie and when I see an open door, it is an invitation to adventure (especially when I was still a little wet behind the puppy ears). The Great Unknown is a dog’s addiction. Give me half a chance and I am off and running. Some would say that only an untrained dog thinks like that but they would be wrong.  Don’t trust us. We are not all born like Sir Teddy, Momma’s American Eskimo Angel Dog.

Momma has me in Rain Gear as I sit in window of the sunporch. Notice leash in place so if I should escape, I will 1) be easier to catch and 2) be protected from the rain or the snow or the sleet or the ice. or even sunshine. Momma thinks of everything.
Momma has me in Rain Gear as I sit in window of the sun porch. Notice leash in place so if I should escape, I will 1) be easier to catch and 2) be protected from the rain or the snow or the sleet or the ice. or even sunshine. Momma thinks of everything.

It happened again recently and Momma, was like … shocked – I had not done this since forever.  She had gone shopping for the Sunday Specials, at the local drug store. I saw a kitchen door ajaro and lucky for me, the sun porch door was just swinging in the wind because the night latch had not been anchored in place properly.

Momma was kind of dopey that day, she had not much sleep because Itty- Bitty spent the night and Momma was multi-tasking, as usual. She was concentrating on remembering the bargains without considering the consequences.

Where are you Sophie??? We are so worried.
Where are you Sophie??? We are so worried.

Oh no,  I’d be like little white, fluffy Sophie, the sad little terrier whose picture was on every telephone pole in Brampton, announcing, ‘I am lost.  Please call my Mommy’s number below if you find me’.  Momma stopped at each pole and warned me to never do that to her and I promised but it was a sunny morning, and our cats were parading up and down the sidewalk, teasing and tantalizing me, so I am sorry, okay, but I joined them.  I never had any intention of running away – I just wanted to see if any of our neighbors were up so I could get patted and scratched and praised but alas, it was too early, they were all in bed, (except Momma), don’t you know.

So I went to the first neighbour, then the next after that … I had a plan, I was coming home, the minute I heard Momma slam the car door – that is what the cats do. They chase squirrels, they harass birds and catch mice. The minute Momma arrives  back home, they cut a fast path to our open door, acting all goodie two shoes and sidle up for some Momma loving.   So that was my plan, honest. I wasn’t pulling a Sophie.

It started innocently enough for me, just sniffing the perimeters of our front yard,  but it seems I got preoccupied with something, maybe a squirrel, or no, I was out looking for Sophie (that is a compelling story, although light on truth) and I failed to hear Momma return.  Then I heard Momma pleading, calling my name softly so Wonder Boy did not hear because he would have chided Momma for her carelessness. How many times had he told her, slow down and do it right the first time (she had done a quick search in the house and was pretty sure I was like the X-Files, out there, somewhere). Still, I lingered, another minute. Who wanted to go indoors when outdoors was so marvelous?

At last my puppy conscience kicked in. Poor Momma did not deserve this, so I left the back yard of my favourite neighbour, ran up the sidewalk, communicating with my eyes, ‘I’m here’.  Momma was so relieved, she got down on her knees and I ran to her arms for a cuddle – I really don’t like being out alone, I have no one to protect me and trust me on this, Momma needs 24/7 surveillance to keep her out of trouble.

Okay, is it me, or do you notice too, that Momma has a leash on me and her hand around my neck, holding me firmly in place - just paranoid. But then look how many pictures you see me in where I am in a fenced back yard - with a leash on, in the house, where I have to go through two locked doors, with, you guessed it, a leash on. Oh, & by the way, what is up with my eye?
Okay, is it me, or do you notice too, that Momma has a leash on me and her hand around my neck, holding me firmly in place – just paranoid. Oh, & by the way, what is up with my eye?

PS: Momma and I are still curious, did Sophie find her way home – we did not want to call the number and upset Sophie’s Momma – but when you erect these signs, you should be compelled to let the public know the outcome. Post something that says  ‘HELP! Still Looking, Or Home At Last, Thank God Almighty, Sophie is Home At Last’.  I shall call it a ‘Sophie Alert’ and include it as a Regulation in my Policy and Procedures for All Creation.

Regulation Common Sense:  If you post signs for a missing pet, you are obligated to let the Public know the results so we can give up or continue the search.  Don’t toy with our emotions. I can not abide thinking poor fluffy, cuddly, little Sophie being homeless. We have seen those wrenching stories on the television, hungry, bedraggled dogs living on the streets that never ever find their home again.

We can’t sleep at night, please, let us know.