Family Matters: 10/ 14/2011, A Parade of Doggie Halloween Costumes

It's October and with children, matters of Halloween have come up.  What to wear as costumes is of prime importance to Miles, and Gabby, although she feigned indifference over the past couple of days, was originally excited at the concept of being a Peacock (perfect for her because she's so beautiful and no, I have not informed her the female peacocks are reserved and brown and it's their male counterparts that display the beautiful tail feathers), and now thinks that she will wear her riding clothes out for trick-or-treat.  Although I loved the peacock idea, it could turn into something quite expensive and the riding idea not only will be something that we won't see coming and going, but she already has everything she needs on hand.  Her prime directive there is to gather enough candy (aka inventory) to make a fortune on selling at school (the movement to remove candy and other sweet treats from the campus was stupid as the kids just bring it in and sell it anyway, taking profits out of Los Angeles Unified's pocket), so the less money spent on a costume, the better.

For Miles, all he wanted to be was a character out of Halo.  Now he knows that Halo is not a game that I will allow back in this house again, but I agreed that if he wanted to be a character, I could live with it.  Unfortunately, the only thing he has found in that area so far runs well into the $150 range and there's no way we're spending that much money on it, so I'm not sure what he has in mind.

We take the kids to an Ultimate Trick-Or-Treat zone in Calabasas, a very rich community just outside of Los Angeles, and we go to the "poor" zone where the houses only cost slightly over a million each, and they're long and narrow and set very close together.  The candy they give out in that neighborhood reflects the generalized wealth of that area and because so many people visit them, a large number of the residents put on terrific displays and many even have shows!

Our own neighborhood, because the houses are large, set far apart, set far back on the properties, and most of which have fenced permiters, gets no trick-or-treat traffic at all, so that frees both Eric & I up to go with the kids.  We enjoy that activity an awful lot.


Many people take their dogs out in that neighborhood when they take the kids, dogs in costume too.  Last year we took Lucy, wearing her bunch-of-grapes costume.  Sunny was just too old to participate in such a vigorous activity although he enjoyed wearing his costume during our wedding reception.  I actually think he probably enjoyed having the entire house to himself while we were gone.  I can't say that for sure, but Sunny was exceptionally intelligent and I know how I feel during those precious moments that I'm here alone.  Free to do whatever I want... to be productive or to take a nap without interruption.  But back onto topic.

This year we have Lucy and Sophie.  Both dogs love to go places, Sophie is certainly young enough (and interested enough) to participate, and while we have the grape costumes on hand again, truth be told, my original idea for our wedding reception was for the dogs to wear skeleton costumes.  Sadly, only one showed up, and that was not only too late for the reception, but for halloween as well.  I was going to return it, but never got around to it.  In the end, that was terrific because we didn't want to repeat costumes this year (first because it would be boring but mostly because Lucy cannot resist attacking Sophie's grapes - lol!) and the skeleton fits Sophie perfectly!  Sophie is not the least bit disturbed by wearing clothing, so we now have to decide whether to get a matching skeleton for Lucy or something else.  I'll take pictures of the dogs in their costumes on Halloween and share them for you, but for now, let's just say that a black dog wearing a black outfit with a glow-in-the-dark dog skeleton imprinted on it is a very effective look!

Anyway, we started looking at pictures on the internet, trying to figure out what to do for Lucy, and were very happily surprised at the options that presented themselves!

Although this Dogzilla is in Extra Small, I have a feeling that if we looked around, we'd find one big enough for Lucy and gawd only knows that the theme would be appropriate for her personality!

Cave Dog!

Shark Eating the Dog!

Here's the Skeleton we already have.  It looks much better on our dogs.

 

Hmmmm... This is also a costume based in black and certainly the Bee would be appropriately humiliating for Lucy, not that she'd notice.  

 

Could we get this Elephant on Lucy before she tore the trunk off in play?

 

There's no way!  Lucy would rip the skirt of this Witches costume to shreds as soon as she took the hat off and played with it to death!

While this Devil costume is very tempting, do we really want to encourage Lucy?

 

Tinkerbell.   Hmmm.... tempting! 

A Pirate.  Another very tempting choice!

The costumes above are all available on Amazon.com.  But of course, I didn't want to completely ignore Etsy, my favorite hand-crafted buying forum.  So here's a few of my favorites available there:

A Doggie Hula Costume!  I really like it.But it's only displayed on a stuffed dog.  How would a real dog feel about it?

There's little question how this dog feels about this monster hat.  Now that's the Halloween Spirit!  But I don't think that Lucy could be taken down so easily.

 

Bat Dog!!!!!!

I can't believe I ate the whole thing1  I feel like such a Cow!

Maggie Simpson, anyone?

Carmen Miranda!  Now this is tempting - lol!

Now if you're serious about dressing your dog up, there are many places to go to buy them.   This is but a small selection that I found on line, and you can find them in many brick-and-mortar stores too.   Please enjoy the holiday and be safe, and if you can enjoy committing your canine to participating too, then happy shopping! 

When You Lay Down With Dogs...

When you lay down with dogs, you may come out with a very different perspective on life. That in addition to the fleas, of course.

This is what my TV looks like from my perspective on the sofa. Standard older-model 27" television in a very old IKEA Entertainment Center. No big deal.

That is, until you lay down on the floor in front of the TV with Cosmos. (Cosmos's head in lower right hand corner of picture.)

In Cozie's world, the TV looms very large. And yes, he is quite a fan of the Law & Order series.

Once you gain perspective, it's not so surprising that he is consumed by watching his television. It's more surprising, though, that Sunny - and all of my other dogs that came before the current two - don't.

Vennie's AdVenture, Day 4

Good Morning! Vennie's cooking early!!!!!
Bon Appetit!

Chicken Soup with Sweet Potato, Onion, Broccoli, Carrots, and Celery.

Vennie hugs her first man of the day. She likes them with hairy backs.

And then she found herself another lawyer. Unlike day 1, this one has a small practice. But he advertises on TV with the moniker "We are here to serve you."

Back home, and Vennie receives Ian, a Gentleman Caller.

However, Ian quickly deserted her in lieu of the dogs. Here, he's trying to teach Sunny how to use the dog stairs, aka "Stairway to Heaven."

And, unlike Laura, he is successful in the venture! From this point forward, Ian is to be known as "The Stairmaster!"

Happy smiles all around signifies a job well done.

Come evening, and Vennie is at Slimmons, exercising her heart out.

She insists that it's only water in the bottle.

Look at this! Dana's "Exit" sign has not been replaced. Slimmons. You can check in but you can't check out.

And once again, happy smiles all around signifies a job well done.

Thirty posts in thirty days. This is day 19.

Designated Eating Spot

Richard advises choosing a place in your home and always eating there. The thought is that you will be more in control of your portions and actions if you control your environment. It seems like a good idea to me, but for myself, I prefer - unless I have company - to eat while pursuing other activities. I may not be focused on what I'm eating, but I measure my portions onto my plate before I carry it to wherever I want to be. The computer. The desk. The TV.

My dogs, on the other hand, are creatures of habit, and they have specific locations in which they like to consume. At meal times, Cosmos eats in the hallway and Sunny eats in the kitchen. For snacks, though, they gladly accept their treats in the pantry and then head down the hall to their preferred spots. Cosmos in the studio corner almost behind the loom. Sunny in the bedroom. Separated by choice.

Last night, Eric was over and we went out to the movies. "W" to be exact, and it's worth seeing. But I digress.

Cosmos has been having some tummy issues as of late. Couple that with newly clean carpet along with Vennie's imminent arrival and it's a recipe for disaster. So before we left, I put the doggie barrier up in the hallway, preventing accessess to the carpeted portion of the condo. Then we all went into the kitchen for biscuits.

The boys grabbed their treats and headed off to eat them, but were confused when they were thwarted. Eric & I watched their antics with amusement. I figured that they would eventually eat in the living room and then settle down for a nice evening's nap. Not.

Upon our arrival home, the first thing I noticed was a grating sound behind the front door when I opened it. Cosmos's biscuits. Both of them located in his choice sleeping spot, still warm from guarding his treats. Eric laughed when I informed him that I guess Cosmos didn't want to eat in the living room. But we laughed harder when we found Sunny's two biscuits side by side in the hallway. He didn't want to eat out-of-position either.

We greeted the dogs, put them outside for a couple of minutes, and while they were gone, I removed the barrier. They came in and immediately checked out the hallway. Access no longer impeded, Cosmos ran for one of his biscuits, grabbed it, and carried it into the studio. "What's he doing?" Eric asked.

"Taking his biscuit someplace private to eat."

"But he only took one of them."

"He'll be back." And he was. About 5 seconds later. He returned for his second biscuit before eating the first.

In the meantime, Sunny was standing with us, looking to be pet. He's not quite as food oriented as Cosmos, and Eric commented that he hadn't carried his biscuits off. "Give him a minute," I advised him. And sure enough, as soon as Cosmos's frenzy died down, Sunny grabbed them (both at the same time), and quietly took them to the bedroom.

About 10 minutes later, both dogs came back to the front. I knew that, when I went into the bedroom, I better not walk barefoot for the crumbs. I also knew that, if Richard had seen them, he would have been proud.

* * *

The kindness of strangers does not allude me. I belong to Freecycle, a grass roots internet based organization dedicated to passing unwanted treasures from one household into another that could use them. You sign up, then offers come via e-mail. Respond, and if you're lucky, you're the chosen one to receive. Or extend an offer, and you get to meet the person who benefits from your generosity. I've done both.

Last night when we got back from W-, I scanned my e-mail. Many offers from Freecycle, but only one that caught my attention. Carpeted dog stairs with storage. So your dog has easy access into bed.

Both of my boys are old now. As a result, they suffer from a variety of medical issues, and neither of them are capable of jumping into bed on their own. I'm able to lift Cosmos up and down (he's far smaller), but Sunny is just too big for me to help. I know that he misses coming in with us. I can see him looking at us longingly when we retire for the night. Occasionally he will attempt the leap, but he's rarely successful.

Anyway, I saw the offer and sent an e-mail back immediately. "Oh my! Both of my dogs are really old (and large) and I have to lift them into bed. I would be very grateful if you might steer these in my direction!"

I didn't say anything about my own medical issues which, if you are a regular reader or a friend, you know are very severe. I regretted it, knowing that sometimes a good story might help the transaction turn out favorably. But the e-mail had already been sent and it was in the hands of the gods.

This morning I awoke to find an e-mail from "Jason," letting me know that if we were to arrange a mutually agreeable time for pick-up, the stairs now belonged to my boys! I went there this afternoon and they are installed in my bedroom.

Jason was delightful. His furry girl passed at age 15; she was a rescue just as mine are. Apparently he had received quite a few responses to his offer, and was flumoxed by how sad the stories were. He had only one set of stairs to donate. Since my e-mail came back first, I was the chosen one. I promised him that when we no longer had use for them, I would send them out again for other dogs and their humans to use. Freecycle. Gotta love it.

So far, both dogs have sniffed the stairs, and Sunny has even put both of his front feet on the bottom level. Better than I had hoped for on the first day. The boys are quite suspicious, and I figured they would circle around the subject for a few.

I'm not at all worried. I think that they will be running up and down them in a couple of days. I know, though, that long after the dogs are used to what is a scary novelty to them now, I will remember where the stairs came from and will be eternally grateful.


Thirty posts in thirty days. This is day 13.

Canine Wine

I know, you probably think this post is yet another Cosmos and Sunny story. But in fact, it's not. It's about Kate and Spencer. And a way that you can help rescue animals.

I have a friend who I haven't seen for many years, although we periodically check in by e-mail. She believes in rescue dogs just like me, and seven years ago adopted a pair of Pit Bull mixes. She loves her dogs and has never regretted bringing them into her home.

She is also involved with the Humane Society. And so she was on the board when it paired up with a local (California) winery to release a special vintage to benefit homeless animals. Canine Wines was developed and released, month by month, bottle by bottle. Cheryl e-mailed me about this some time ago; her furballs were scheduled to be featured on a future label.

Well, the future is now. Kate and Spencer adorn bottles of 2006 Santa Barbara Syrah wine. Cheryl says:

I am happy to announce that my “kids”, Kate & Spencer are featured on a recent release from Canine Wines which is available to purchase on the Canine Wines web site. I can personally vouch that the wines are very tasty AND your purchase supports animal rescue organizations.

As we approach the holidays, consider the gift of wine that will surely be the topic of discussion at your gathering - not only because of the great taste but because of the inspirational stories behind the dog(s) on the label – all dogs featured are rescued dogs.

If you enjoy wine or plan to give some as a gift this year, I urge you to consider this line so that homeless pets can benefit too. You can designate your choice of rescue organizations although I know that Kate & Spencer would appreciate you choosing the donation from your purchase to go to the Humane Society of Stanislaus County (HSSC); they will use the contributions to help animals in California's Central Valley.

But if you should choose to buy, no matter where you designate your contribution, lives will be saved.

Thirty posts in thirty days. This is day 9.

Twelve-Hundred Steps

Yesterday was an exceptionally trying and emotional day. I was so sick by early evening that I took my evening pills early and then patiently waited for them to take effect. Fourteen hours later, I was still in bed without the strength or will to get up or do anything.

This afternoon, though, I looked at my dogs and how sad they are. They have not been outside of the condo for months. I thought perhaps, since it was mid afternoon and it wasn't likely that there would be many other dogs out, I'd try to take them outside.

It was hard. My heart raced, my head ached. My joints are quite painful and my left foot is swelling again. But I did it. I took them for the very-short walk through the alleys that I used to take them on just for 'business.' I know from measuring the distance on my pedometer during former walks that it is 1243 steps.

It's hard to believe that a couple of years ago, I was able to walk them for miles daily, and then attend either an exercise class or General Fitness session at Physical Therapy. These days, I can hardly stand long enough to take care of the basic necessities.

But the boys are so happy...

A Note from Cosmos for Dolly Ann

Dear Dolly Ann:

I really enjoyed the photos you sent of yourself a couple of weeks ago. I also like your attitude and ability to manipulate the home-life situation. This picture, in particular, is good. You always want your humans to think you are not getting enough food.

I realize that it can be frustrating when your doormen don't open up the door quickly enough. I can see you understand that they're taking entirely too many breaks from the angle of your tail. But patience is a virtue that can be parlayed later on into them thinking butter wouldn't melt in your mouth, then you can manipulate situations to your liking.
This picture is a special favorite of mine. Remember our motto. "Nothin' says lovin' like somethin' from the oven."
As I hear stories of how you've started to take over the house and have even selected your upstairs bed (don't forget that the sofa also makes a good downstairs one), I am very happy for you. But I must warn you about one behavior that will set all the progress you have made back on it's heels. Don't do it upon pain of being locked up forever.

Trust me, it's a bad idea.

Your friend,

Cosmos

Eleven After Ten

In my home, we keep to a certain schedule. Up at 7:00am to let the dogs out and maybe feed them, maybe not, then back to bed. I have autoimmune issues and they tend to be the worse in the morning so I sleep late whenever possible.

Up at 8:30 to feed the dogs if I didn't do it earlier because by 8:30 am, Cosmos is crying like a baby, a miserable dog who's lament is that he is being starved to death. Immediately following breakfast, dogs go out again (or I take them for a walk if it's a good morning) because if I don't let them out, Sunny will stand at the door and bark at me until I do. In the meantime, Cosmos will be 1.) Peeing in his dog dish, 2.) Peeing in Sunny's dog dish, or 3.) Peeing in the doorway to the bedroom.

The daylight hours vary depending on what I have scheduled. Doctor's appointments are a constant, and on the days - a lot lately - that I'm not feeling so well, I spend a lot of time in bed. The dogs go in and out as they please when I'm home as I leave the front door open for their pleasure. (We have a front patio; I keep the gate to that locked so there are no mistaken escapes.)

11am is dog biscuit time. As is 12pm, 1:30pm, 4:00 pm, and then it's dinner by 6:00. It's the happy dog that gets fed the evening meal early and it happens occasionally. Especially on the evenings that I go to exercise class but also on those days that I don't want to listen to Cosmos's piteous whine about hunger.

The evening goes sporatically. Cosmos will follow me wherever I go in the condo (it's not very big), especially to the kitchen where he demands yet another biscuit for himself and his brother. And if he can get me to feed him directly from the refrigerator, he's even happier.

9:00pm, and it's time for the final walk of the day if I'm feeling well enough, or the final time in the yard if I'm not. Then comes a question of bed.

Cosmos is in favor of bed. He believes that the mattress in the middle of my bedroom with the sheets and pillows belongs to him. He will allow me to share it with him, but there is no question as to who is in charge.

When the evening constitutional is complete, he thinks that he should be put directly into the sleep mode. This belief has become worse as he becomes a - ahem - mature dog, but is an old pattern. If I am in the bedroom, he starts whining again until I help him up. In the old days when he was younger, he was capable of jumping in on his own, but now he needs an assist.

Sometimes I help him right away; sometimes I don't. One thing that is true is he is my shadow and if I leave the bedroom, he will jump out of the bed to follow me. I don't like that much stress on his old bones, so if I think I'm not done for the evening, I try to ignore him and let him stay on the floor.

There comes a time, though, that enough is enough. Cosmos's threshold of pain has been surpassed and it's time. He must go to bed and he must go to bed now. That time would be exactly 10:11 pm. I don't know how he knows, but somehow he has an internal mechanism that helps him recognize when the moment is upon us.

When I am home alone, at 10:11 he comes to me and I put him in the bed. I can then go on to do whatever is happening and he will stay put. But when Eric is over, it is a different matter.

Cosmos likes Eric well enough... after all, Eric feeds him treats from the table fairly regularly. No, the relationship is not like Eric & Sunny. Sunny worships the ground that Eric walks on and Cosmos is nothing if he is not a Mama's boy. But he's generally happy when Eric comes to visit.

That all changes at 10:11 pm. At that moment, Cosmos needs to go to bed but we have company. It is a dog's duty to monitor the activities of visitors and although I might put Cozie in the bed, he will not stay. Instead, he will jump out and cry and cry and cry, sounding like a rusty hinge and a squeeky spring in out-of-tune harmony, until I look at Eric in desperation - have I told you that Eric is a very good sport? - and ask if we can all go get into the bed together. And so the three of us trudge into the bedroom.

I put Cosmos in first, then Eric enters from the other side. Finally I get in and Cozie is the meat in the sandwich. We pet him from both sides and you'd think he'd be happy, but that is not the case. He does not approve of sharing his bed with Eric and makes no bones about it. He looks at Eric with distain and leans against me. He drapes himself over me... first his head over my neck and then his entire dog body over my abdomen. Finally he crawls over me to the mattress edge and leans against me on the far side of me from Eric, moaning underneath his breath. We will usually stay like that until Eric has to go home.

There was the evening recently that I had to get up to do something and leave the two of them in bed. To convey Cosmos's feelings in full, I think a picture is worth a thousand words. So here is your challenge. Eric is in the bed outside of the perimeter of the picture. Can you tell me what you think Cosmos is thinking?

Counting Fish

I've noted on many occasions that my dogs can count. Although not sure whether I've posted here about it or not, I was discussing the very issue with Eric a couple of days ago. Apparently my observations may have scientific back-up. I'm neither crazy nor investing human qualities into my boys.

I was first aware of my dogs ability several years ago. I hand out dog biscuits two or three at a time. This practice was developed in self defense. Cosmos,you see, is preternaturally obsessed by food. One dog biscuit will not do it for him, but several at a time might hold him off from bugging me again for as much as 30 minutes. So, depending on the size of the biscuits involved, I may give the boys two (Large or XLG Milk Bones) or three (Trader Joe's Brand) at a time.

Cosmos always goes first. Sunny is much more reserved about food and if I try to bump him up to #1, Cosmos rips my fingers off during the feeding frenzy. After I give Cozie the biscuits, he runs into the studio to eat them there. Sunny always gives him a close look as he dashes by, but I never really thought what it was about before the evening of the revelation.

That night, I gave Cosmos three small treats. Then, because I had larger bones for Sunny, I only dispensed two to him. He stood and looked at me with the two in his mouth. Shock registered in his eyes and then despair. It took me a few minutes of him not moving to his "eating position" for me to realize. He knew that Cosmos had a greater quantity then him and didn't understand the difference in the relative biscuit sizes.

I pulled out a third biscuit and gave it to Sunny. He took it with the other two and danced off! And I thought to myself "Oh my God! Sunny can count!"

I initially chalked that up to a special ability that my big golden boy had but several years later, as Cosmos became older and arthritic, he started needing help into (our) bed. First he was able to get his front legs up on his own and I would lift his rear end. But later (now), I have to help each end, one at a time.

Our ritual is simple. Cosmos starts crying when he thinks it's time to retire. When I "get" it, we go into the bedroom and he runs in little circles at the geographical point that he has deemed the "bed entry zone." He settles into position and I count "One... Two... Three!" and then help him with his front end. He does make an effort to rise up on "Three" but needs the assist.

Then it's time for the back end. "One... Two... Three!" One night I decided to test the theory whether or not he understood "Three!" and did not scoop him up. He stood there with his front paws on the mattress and his hind end making little but futile hops. And I knew. He could count too.

I'm not sure how high my dogs are numerically gifted but I know they both understand up to Three. I think (thought) that they might understand up to "four" as, after all, they have four legs. But I didn't venture to think that they might be more aware than that. Even I have my boundaries.

So imagine my surprise the other day when I stumbled across this article. Fish can count.

Apparently, scientists have determined that the "American Mosquito Fish" has rudimentary mathematical skills "similar to those observed in apes, monkeys,dolphins and humans with very limited mathematical ability." They can count to four.

Now of course this shakes my theory that my boys understand numbers up to Four to the bone. (Yes, a bad biscuit pun.) I've never tried them beyond Three. But if a fish - that presumably only has two fins - can count to four, does that mean that my boys may understand numbers up to eight? It would almost make sense.

After all, since I believe that human mathematics grew from "base 10" because we have ten digits, it would make equal sense, assuming that the boys do have some mathematical ability, that they would operate in "base eight." Each paw has four toes.

I'm not sure how to test this new theory out. I'm not sure if I even want to. But I do know that I have some DVDs due back at the Library tomorrow. After taking care of business, I may meander on over to the children's section to look for Dr. Seuss. I can see us tomorrow night during cuddle time. Cosmos will be on my lap, Sunny pretending to ignore us on the floor at my feet. And I will start to read.

"One Fish, Two Fish. Red Fish, Blue Fish."

Cuddle Time

Sigh. My camera s broken. Again. While Eric checks the warranty date (we're very close), I am forced to do with old pictures or things that I stole off of the internet. Fortunately, I have a subject today for which I have no lack of pictures. My Dogs.



As of late, they have decided that it is of the utmost importance that they be cuddled each and every evening. For small dogs like Beth's Chihuahua Oliver, this activity is not such a big deal. After all, an eight pound dog fits nicely into your lap and there is still room for whatever you are doing, like bead embroidery or knitting or the newspaper or even watching TV. With large dogs, however, making room for them in a lap is a more interactive pursuit.
Cosmos weighs in the mid-fifty pound range. Sunny is more along the line of eighty.

During the day, although they have their requests and demands, they're easy to live with. The occasional pat or opening of the door will do it. They would like to go for walks, but with my leg still in the throes of healing, a dog biscuit makes a nice substitute. They spend the prerequesite time barking at nothing. Barking at neighbors. Barking at the reflection that they can see in the 2nd story window of the unit across from mine.

Shedding is an important acitivity that occupies their time. Cosmos - a dalmatian - sheds terrible short hairs that embed themselves in all fabrics and get stuck. It's hard to brush him too, since his hair is so short that it makes most grooming tools ineffective.

Sunny, on the other hand, sheds in profusion. I have been using a shedding blade on him quite effectively, but still there are drifts of hair piling up like loose snow in all the corners of my living room. I probably could use a vaccum at this point, but come on! I have a built in excuse for the hair in my leg and why not take advantage?

Come 5:00pm, it's time for dinner. Believe me, they don't let me forget it. Cosmos whines, Sunny goes by the front door and starts to bark. It is imperative that he be allowed on the patio before (and after) each and every meal. Except, of course, if it is raining out which it is not right now.

Then the evening rituals ensue. The dogs go outside for their twilight bark. I have dinner and clean up the kitchen. Pull my crafting together. Sit down on the sofa in the studio and turn on whatever form of entertainment that is appropriate for the evening. Realize at some point that the dogs are in and go close the front door. Settle down again.

Small whine. A miserable whine from a dog who is in extreme pain. That would be Cosmos. I am on the sofa with items strewn all over. He is not.

Louder and more protracted whine. I might not have heard the initial overature.

Small circles run in despair, punctuated by moans of pain. Piteous dark eyes trained on mine. How can I be so cruel as to deny him access. After all, it's time. Time for the dog to be on the sofa in my lap.

I begrudgingly move all my personal belongings off of the sofa and into various baskets, tables, whatever. Sit down again, whereupon Cosmos makes a leap up. He's not as good as it as he used to be because of age and arthritis, and sometimes I am required to help his back end on.

Now that he is on the sofa, he must inspect it to be sure it meets his specifications. Without fail, it requires some adjustment. Mainly the throw pillows in the corner opposite me. He disapproves of them and flips them off with his nose.

Then it's time to settle down. That process is quite simple. He strides over to and on top of me, and the front half of his body - as much as he can cram on - is draped over my lap.

Moans of pleasure now come from deep in his throat. The position of his head is of utmost importance and I am required to pet it while he finds the perfect place with both comfort and view in mind. And when he finally does? My job is to pet him and whisper encouraging words of love into his ear. And thus we remain for 30 to 45 minutes.

While all of this is happening, Sunny will be laying on the floor, seemingly indifferent to the activity. He makes a point of lying with his back to us and his head pointing towards the door out to the hallway. For all intent purposes, he appears to be fast asleep. Not even a flicker of the ear betrays him. But as in many actions by dogs, this is false advertising.

He is, in fact, extremely alert to everything that is happening with Cosmos. While displaying a nonchalent attitude, he knows when Cozie has settled down, and when either he - or I - have decided that my lap is numb enough now for him to leave me. And then, a split second before that happens, Sunny comes to life.

He rolls onto his stomach. The head whips around to stare at me. And the most hurt and incriminating eyes you ever saw pierce my soul. This is the look of a dog denied. The dog who is not loved. The dog of guilt.

Sunny is a little too big and arthritic these days to get onto the sofa, so the immediate action upon Cosmos's departure is mine. I slide off of the sofa and onto the carpet. Slither over to the dejected dog. And hug him.

He ignores me, rolling back onto his side facing away from me. But he can only keep this indifference for a few seconds. He is now the center of attention and first, the corners of his mouth turn up just a little, then a toothy grin erupts, and finally, he positions himself such that I can get to the parts of his body he would like me to scratch the most.

Another half hour or so passes. I spend part of the time petting Sunny, part of it brushing him. It really doesn't matter to him as long as he is at the center of my activity. Cosmos will have, by then, positioned himself in the hallway, laying sprawled out and watching every move I make with a baleful stare. But he leaves us alone. He knows that it's Sunny's time now.

Finally, I've had it. I get myself off of the floor, look at my clothing which in less flattering terms could be called a mass of dog hair, but I prefer the description of a "natural fur tweed," consider brushing myself off but then think "Why Bother?" and go back to the predetermined activity of the evening.

Doh! (Slapping the forehead a la Homer Simpson)

I'm really missing my camera. That being said, the fortunate thing is that I have a huge bank of pictures available to publish along with the pics that interest me on the internet. Yesterday morning, I got up early and filled out all the paperwork to have it - the camera - repaired. I found the receipt which Eric printed out for me last Sunday. Located the original Fuji FinePix box and taped the address label onto the front. (Did you know that if you print a barcode out on an address label, the Post Office claims that they will deliver your package one day sooner?) Found the bubble paper that I had lovingly stored in my hall closet instead of popping it as I would have been more inclined to do had I acted on my impulse. And, after a lengthy search for the actual camera, packed the whole she-bang up. Weighed it. Stuck a bunch of stamps on. And laid it out in the entryway to be taken to the Post Office. My intention was to drop the package off during the same trip (by car because of the rain) in which I was to go to the market. But silly me, being distracted as usual, I forgot. When I got home, I was quite upset with myself, but I looked at the clock. 4:30. One half hour until the last scheduled pick-up. The Tarzana Post Office is an interesting place. Tarzana, a suburb of Los Angeles, actually was named for Tarzan. Burroughs lived here when he wrote the series. They have a whole display of Tarzan memorabilia in the lobby to view while waiting in line. And I enjoy walking there since it's maybe 1/4 mile from my front door. 4:30pm. One half hour until the last pick-up. One half hour until I was due in Richard's Monday night chat. I could make it. I quickly changed into my walking shoes and, ignoring the dog's pleas for an early dinner, grabbed the box and headed out the door. A quick right once outside of my complex, and a left at the corner. Through the pedestrian-only underpass at the 101 freeway (it stinks in there) and, upon emerging at the other side, I am at my destination. And confused. Where normally there would be a lot of traffic and tons of cars parked in the lot, there were only a few people coming and going. I thought to myself "It must be the rain" and hurried along. But realized, when I burst through the front door, that "Doh! I am not always the brightest gal in town." It was Martin Luther King's birthday and the Post Office was closed. The rain has begun. It's supposed to rain pretty heavily for the next week or so, and so I have set up the dog-drying station just inside of my front door. (Sorry. No camera, no pictures.) 100% of the dogs surveyed disapprove of the sky dropping water on their backs. Both dogs do enjoy their walks though, and in a last-ditch attempt to lose measurable weight before I am forced to have my knee surgically fixed, I'm walking them rather extensively on a daily basis. Thank goodness that the rain and walking are not mutually exclusive. Both dogs could appear on a fashion runway. Both dogs own raincoats. Cosmos shows off his 'designer' duds. Yes, it says "It's Raining Cats and Dogs." Sunny, in his preferred more rugged look. Cosmos: "Who is this sky that drops water on me?" Sunny: "Walk! Walk! Walk! Walk..." Do you like Pina Colada? Getting caught in the rain?

The Sky is Falling!

The sky was foreboding. Rain was in the immediate forecast. I walked the dogs and fortunately made it home before it began.

I don't know if you can tell from this picture, but in my condominium complex, even the trees seem to sense when the weather is about to change. They huddle in on themselves.

I sat down to make Eric's bolero tie for tomorrow's Bar Mitzvah. And when I looked out my window, realized by the fact that my rosebush was standing on it's side that the rain had begun.
Cosmos, ever suspicious of the sky's activities, had to be let out to inspect the situation.
"Where is the sky who dares drop water on my back?" he thinks. "This is unacceptable."
And once he had formulated the thought, realized that if he came inside, he could proceed immediately to the dog-drying station.
Where he would receive a nice terrycloth massage.
Sunny, jealous of the attention that Cosmos was getting, thought about going outside to get wet too, but then thought better of it. I gave him a brief massage so that he wouldn't feel left out. Since his hair is so much thicker than Cozie's, he emits quite an odor when wet and I don't want him in the elements unless he really needs to be.
Cosmos, always a fan of the TV newscast and especially the weather report, proceeded directly to the studio where - to his pleasure and delight - they were broadcasting almost continual weather reports. Except, of course, for the Brittany news, but even from that remote location, it was raining so he was happy.
"Hmmmm," he thought. "It looks like the sky has just begun it's unacceptable activities. They are saying that there is more water coming in from up north."
"Who cares about Bakersfiend and Fresno? The sky is misbehaving right here outside of my front door!"
"The sky is going to blow air at me too? This is truly unacceptable."
"And by the way, where is Fritz when I need him? Who is this substitute weather person? Fritz would have tamed that naughty sky."
"Mom may need a spiritual advisor to tell her of her future, but all I have to do is consult my 'magic window' to know what the sky is going to do. Now I need to go and tell it off."
And while Cosmos was outside once again, barking at the sky that was certainly throwing water at him, I stood back and admired the bolero tie that Eric will be wearing at tomorrow's event.
Hmmmmm. I do good work if I have to say so myself.