Saturday, January 24, 2015


First this one came in--

And then a bigger one came through the gate.
 And everybody milled around

And investigated some very interesting pieces of bark

That's four-month-old Zuri on the left and two-year-old Moxie lying down. She ate a lot of bark, but I didn't hear about any repercussions later, fortunately.

And finally

Thursday, January 15, 2015

Calendar stars

A few weeks ago our friend Nelda sent us the world's best calendar. Here's a sample.


 Famous Facebook pawty photo of Emily & Miro stepping out with Wyatt and Stanzie.

 Puppy Emily admiring herself.

A memorial photo of Alanis.

December shows the after-party effect.


Butt they'll be ready for another party by the end of the month.

Saturday, January 3, 2015

Today's stolen objects

Here's what I caught the dogs playing with this morning.

 Green object #1 (background) formerly hanging in the kitchen. Green object #2 (foreground) formerly around Emily's neck.

Dogs moving too fast for the camera.

Left green--slightly chewed kitchen towel. Right green--Emily's collar. Emily had already redecorated Miro's collar while he was wearing it (below).

Tuesday, December 30, 2014

Look what I found about cats

 This poem by Robert Gray was about a real cat. I took note because a friend on the Airedale list would send cards that included a photo of Marbles the Cat (RB) looking at Jerry the Fish. Fortunately, Marbles didn't share Selima's miserable fate.

On The Death Of A Favourite Cat, Drowned In A Tub Of Gold Fishes

'Twas on a lofty vase's side,
Where China's gayest art had dyed
The azure flowers that blow,
Demurest of the tabby kind,
The pensive Selima, reclined,
Gazed on the lake below.

Her conscious tail her joy declared;
The fair round face, the snowy beard,
The velvet of her paws,
Her coat, that with the tortoise vies,
Her ears of jet, and emerald eyes,
She saw; and purred applause.

Still had she gazed; but 'midst the tide
Two angel forms were seen to glide,
The genii of the stream:
Their scaly armour's Tyrian hue
Through richest purple to the view
Betrayed a golden gleam.

The hapless nymph with wonder saw:
A whisker first, and then a claw,
With many an ardent wish,
She stretched, in vain, to reach the prize.
What female heart can gold despise?
What cat's averse to fish?

Presumptuous maid! with looks intent
Again she stretched, again she bent,
Nor knew the gulf between:
(Malignant Fate sat by, and smiled)
The slippery verge her feet beguiled,
She tumbled headlong in.

Eight times emerging from the flood
She mewed to ev'ry wat'ry god
Some speedy aid to send.
No dolphin came, no nereid stirred;
Nor cruel Tom, nor Susan heard.
A fav'rite has no friend!

From hence, ye beauties undeceived,
Know, one false step is ne'er retrieved,
And be with caution bold.
Not all that tempts your wand'ring eyes
And heedless hearts is lawful prize;
Nor all that glisters, gold.

Now, a cat lover might see one thing. The Poetry Foundation sees another:

"Her plunge into the goldfish bowl is another vain dream of the desiring self. Selima wishes to possess what is taboo; it requires her engagement with a medium in which she cannot survive. Her fate is a variation on the fate of those who would appropriate that which is beyond their proper sphere."
But if you know cats, you know that they have nothing to do with moralizing.
(public domain photo)

Thursday, December 25, 2014

Thursday, December 11, 2014

Emily is again inspired by the original Miss Dickinson

The counter--is what I cannot reach!
The tomato and the cheese-
Provided my mom leaves them out--
Smell heavenly--to Me!

The color of the cheddar round--
The food too far to grasp--
Behind the threatening Cookie Sheet--
There--Paradise--is found--

Those teasing smells--that make me drool--
I must grow tall to grasp--
And use my paws to bat them o'er--
And bite into them at last!

It's a good thing we don't believe people can really roll over in their graves or we'd be hearing a thing or two all the way from Amherst, MA. Emily Dickinson's birthday was Dec. 10, and Emily Dickins' birthday was Dec. 4.

Thursday, December 4, 2014

Emily is One!

Today is Emily Dickins' first birthday. And what did I do to prepare her? Have Sheila the World-Famous Groomer strip out all the dead fur, leaving a nearly naked dog. No biggie; she just looks like somebody with a skin disease.

As a mature dog, she prefers heavy reading material: Wolf Hall is 532 pages. No wonder she actually prefers Kleenex tissues. A talented girl, she knows how to unmake a bed, shred cardboard, and chew the corners off pillows and woodwork.


Why doesn't he have to wear a silly jacket?

Read my face. Treats, now! I may be small, but I've got Big Attitude.

Friday, November 28, 2014

Blogville Thanks-day

I started blogging as a way to keep writing. I wrote about events around the house to which I'd just moved until the day that I received a comment from Mitch and Molly's blog (when Angel Maggie was there). I discovered there were Airedale blogs all over the place. Then there were blog-hops and dogs and cats and bunnies and incredibly talented and funny people. I've been blogging long enough to share the lives and deaths of three of my Airedales and many other dogs. In Animal Blogville, a person can post about the death of a pet fish and know that everyone will understand how important that pet could be.  I am grateful for the company of fine people and animals.
Blogville nose how it is.

As card-carrying Airedales, we are naturally grateful for anything that works to our advantage. Most things do.


Tuesday, November 25, 2014

Miro and Emily learn to recycle

After experimenting with my cardboard box stand-up desk, I bought one that raises and lowers. It's a heavy, solid piece of equipment that sits on top of my existing desk. No assembly required! What's not to like?
Oops. Forgot about the window reflection revealing the junk-covered printer table. The Varidesk came in a Very Big Box, double sided with thick cardboard. I wondered how I'd ever get it all cut down to fit in the recycling bin. Suddenly, I had help.

 They began work on a rectangular piece from inside the box. You can see part of the box on the left in photo #1. Keeping everything on the small landing contained the wreckage--or so I thought.

 Emily paused to see why I was just standing there instead of helping.

They are researching for a term paper on deconstruction.

Then, for a moment, all was still.

Emily decided to resume work in the living room.

Now, please excuse me while I go fetch the garden rake. Good thing Thanksgiving Dinner is not at my house.

Saturday, November 15, 2014

A few words from Emily Dickins

While the people complain about freezing their tushies in the cold, we Airedales love it.
Here we are comparing teeth. Mine, of course, are prettier.

Sometimes a girl likes to dress up a little, using whatever decorator items are available.
I like being able to grow my hair longer for the winter, but Mom keeps pulling it out.
Could I say, "Let's play" any louder? What does Miro do? He stands there and barks.

Oh well.