When a new delivery driver started this route, she memorized every home that had a pup and left a Milk Bone on top of each package she delivered. It didn’t take long for all the dogs dog in the neighborhood to recognize the sound of her truck and bark like crazy whenever they heard it.
Toby can hear the engine a half mile away. If we happen to be out for a walk when it is coming, he will plant himself in the middle of the road to wait for his personalized biscuit delivery. He puts on such a performance that sometimes the driver has to stop traffic to give my little monster a Milk Bone. Woe to the dog several houses away that can see my boy eating his treat and yet is too far away to get hers!
And yes, Toby will climb the steps to get to his biscuit if he gets the chance.
What can I say? I am a sucker for Milk Bones.
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Would you like to see what else Bitey and Toby are up to? Then pick up a copy of Dream Our World. Inside the boys visit the Museum of the Imagination and enjoy a day of unsupervised fun.
Against my will, I got to learn something recently.
A couple of weeks ago I failed to duck low enough when walking under some stairs and whacked my head. I bump myself often enough that I quickly forgot about the incident. A few days afterward, I started getting a big lump on my head. Then I developed chills and fever with joint pain, skin pain, muscle pain and what I presume to be tendon pain because there aren’t a lot of muscles in the hands. Just to make things more fun, I got terribly itchy as if I had dipped my head in poison ivy.
The fever came and went for a few days before I felt like it was behind me. With the fever seemingly gone, my head now feels like someone beat on it with a hammer leaving little circles of pain all over it. While we all know our hair moves in some throwback to when it was more efficient at capturing heat and signaling our emotions, we are rarely aware of it. I have been blown away by how much my hair moves in a day. It is an agony every time it does, yet it constantly does so. The swelling, pain and itchy rash have moved down from my scalp to cover my forehead and the left side of my face to my cheekbones.
Initially I thought I had hit my head hard enough to split the scalp and develop an infection, but I don’t believe that is what happened. It looks like more like I am having an autoimmune reaction to an injury.* I think the itchiness and the swelling are Koebner phenomenon where 11% – 75% (Way to narrow down the numbers, scientists!) of lucky psoriasis patients can develop symptoms that resemble psoriasis whenever their skin is injured (mosquito bites, tattoos, acne, etc). With the way I hurt myself, I can’t see this as being good news. Plus, symptoms can take anywhere from as little as 3 days to as much as 20 years to develop. Sure, that will be easy to keep track of. No problem.
In the meantime, the only way I can get through my days is with an ice bag on my head. I haven’t been able to sleep more than 3 hrs a night since this happened because the itching is so bad and it’s too painful to have my head touch a pillow.
I think what hurts the most is that my hair was finally starting to grow back. All the swelling from this trauma is likely to make it fall out again.
I really need to order a chemo hat.
*Funny since my doctor told me explicitly that I do not have an autoimmune disease.
You should have my fur instead. It is glorious!
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If you would like to see what Geordie and Toby do when they aren’t bringing me ducks, check out a copy of Dream Our World. Inside the boys explore the world of art from a canine perspective and enjoy a day of unsupervised fun.
On Tuesday I decided to trade Toby in on a skinny puppy with short fur and big eyes. Not a bad bargain.
When we got to the groomer’s, Toby figured that if he never got out of the car he wouldn’t have to get a bath. He firmly planted himself on the seat and refused to budge while I tried to tempt him with beef cubes and sweet words. The whole time I was struggling, the lady in the car beside us was laughing and laughing. She said she used to have a Cairn terrier, and he was equally stubborn. She asked if she could take a picture of Toby to send to her daughter as their pup had died several years ago and was still deeply missed by the family.
We talked for a few more minutes, and she mentioned that her Cairn’s dad was named “Robbie” and was from a town not far away. I was stunned for a moment. I asked, “Did you adopt your pup around 2006?” She said that sounded about right. Robbie was my dog’s dad too! It turned out that her dog any my Geordie were littermates!
Happy memories of brother biting.
One day the two brothers showed up at the vet’s office for checkups at the same time. These photos are of them doing their Smothers Brothers “Mom Always Liked You Best” routine. (The one doing the biting was, of course, my boy.)
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If the story is not about me, then who cares?
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If you would like to see more of my boys’ adventures, then pick up a copy of Dream Our World. Inside, my pups view the world of art from a canine perspective and enjoy a day of unsupervised fun!
A friend who lives in a different part of the country said she had never heard of onion grass. I thought I would take some pictures of mine to show her what it looks like. Of course I took stinky monster with.
This is onion grass. It is kind of like chives. It inconveniently grows in the middle of lawns, and when you mow, the whole neighborhood smells like an Italian restaurant.
The roots are deeper than you might think, so it’s not easy to pull them out.
As soon as Toby noticed that I was getting rid of the onions, he wanted to help. He would dig around the roots, then try to pull them out with his teeth. What was funny was that he really didn’t like the taste or the smell of the grass. He would snort and sneeze each time he did it.
Mom, are you digging something? Then I want to dig too. Achoo!
No matter where I sat, he had to come right up next to me to dig. He covered me with dirt and filled my boots – but not in a good way.
Not my image.
My mom tells stories of when she was little, and her family bought milk from a nearby farm. She could always tell when the cows got into the onion grass because their milk tasted like onion. I can’t imagine how horrible that must have been with oatmeal.
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Come join my boys at the Museum of the Imagination in Dream Our World. Inside, they view the world of art from a canine perspective and enjoy a day of unsupervised fun.
Since I took this picture, the Mama Killdeer (or perhaps it was the Papa Killdeer?) laid another egg.
Here is one of the parent (birth-giver?) birds sitting on the nest. When they are still, it can be quite difficult to find them.
If Toby comes near the nest, the Killdeer try to lead him away from it. This parent (I mean birth-giver) is right on the edge of the gravel heading toward the grass.
If the bird still feels threatened, it will poop while running away. Then it will chirp a lot and do a broken wing display. Toby is very entertained by this. He has high hopes that someday he will catch this bird.
The Killdeer made this nest at a nearby church. I am sure to them it seemed like a wonderfully peaceful location with hardly anyone around. Then along came Easter, and the world went crazy. But, perhaps they did this on purpose. Maybe sitting on a nest is boring, and this is like theater to them.
Let’s make it interactive theater, shall we?
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If you would like more interactive activities with Toby, come to the Museum of the Imagination in Dream Our World. Inside my two Cairn boys explore the world of art from a canine perspective and enjoy a day of unsupervised fun.
Dream Our World and other fine gifts are available in my shop at L Bowman Studios.
I recently got a new garden tool. After using it a few times, I am not sure it can compete with my old one.
First, I try to pull a weed. / Toby is off in his own world.
Then he he stops in order to see what I am doing.
First the left paw…
Then the right…
Then get out of the way, mom, it’s Toby’s turn to work!
What was so interesting about this experience was that Toby watched which weeds I was digging up, then he sought them out and removed them himself. I don’t know if he meant to be helpful or if he thought he was depriving me of the fun of clearing ground, but it sure was great having him around!
I’m a good digger. I know it.
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Would you like to immortalize your own little digger? Then consider having his or her portrait done! Information on sizes and pricing is available on the Pet Portrait page at L Bowman Studios.
Today is the day I change linens and gather dirty laundry. Toby decided to come in and “help” me. (How can something so evil be so cute?)
Who says the two are mutually exclusive?
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Want to have even more adventures with Bitey Dog and Toby? Then pick up a copy of DreamOurWorld. Inside the boys view the world of art from a canine perspective and enjoy a day of unsupervised fun.
This was Toby’s actual Valentine’s Day gift for me – a colorful Loofah dog. He said he didn’t think I would play with it that much, so he would do it for me. What a sweetie.
In true Toby fashion, he would only agree to a photo if his face were blurry.
Don’t you remember? Valentine’s Day
is my Gotcha Day, so I deserve all the presents.
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Would you care for a portrait of your own lovely pet? Consider having one done at L Bowman Studios.
Here is a link to the ordering process and pricing. Pet portraits make a wonderful birthday gift or a tribute gift to someone who might be mourning.
In grade school we had to do a play where characters needed to learn that the greatest gift was not gold or silver but love. I have come to learn that the greatest gift is not love: it’s poop.
Across north America we faced unusually cold temperatures over the Christmas holiday. In this area it was -5 with a windchill of -30 for days. I know other parts of the country had far worse weather (and our hearts go out to you!), but this was the worst that Toby had ever encountered.
My boy was willing to run out and do super-quick #1s, but when it came to #2 he said he could wait. And wait he did…for days and days. By Christmas eve, he was the crankiest puppy I had ever encountered. He had two meltdowns that day, just like a human toddler. He was in such a mood that he decided to start opening presents – any presents – even those not his.
I tried to tell him it was OK if he went inside. I even set out some piddle pads just in case. I told him he could go anywhere he wanted and not be in trouble, but he just looked at me as if I were crazy to even suggest such a thing. Sneakily I kept giving him pumpkin and coconut water, trying to make going so easy that he could get done before his paws froze to the ground.
Finally, late at night as shepherds kept watch and angels sang, Toby finally went #2. Of all the gifts I got for Christmas, I think this was the best.
Silly. Any dog could have told you that poop is the greatest gift.
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In case your taste in gifts doesn’t run toward poo, consider a soft, warm cardigan. Classically styled Tweed Cardigans are comfortable enough to wear on chilly evenings at home yet handsome enough to wear to work or even to religious services. Hand knit of a merino wool/alpaca/Donnegal tweed blend, this extra soft cardigan will wrap you or your loved one in warmth for years to come.
The Adventures of Bitey Dog 