“They say the smart dog obeys but the smarter dog knows when to disobey.”
We have clouds, and we have sun. It will be in the low 40’s. Rain is predicted for tomorrow. Surprise! Surprise! This is the spring of rain.
Today is another day for a bit of cleaning. A little cleaning is about as much as I can stand. I’m going to tackle table tops, the dusty tabletops. White hair is everywhere. I’m surprised Henry isn’t bald in spots.
Last night Nala gave me a fright. I was calling for her out the back door at bedtime, no Nala. Henry stood with me looking out the door, no Nala. I then tried the magic words, “Treat time!” She came running down the stairs. Nala had been sleeping on my bed and chose to ignore me.
Our dog, Duke, the boxer of my youth, was stubborn. That used to drive my father crazy. Duke would start to follow the kids to school, to the East School. My father would call him. Duke would turn around and look at my father then turn around and keep going. My father would be infuriated. He’d get into his car and chase Duke. Poor Duke always got caught. My mother tried the treat route to get him into the house. She’d hold out a piece of bologna and call him. Duke would go up to her, snatch the bologna and run. My mother would be left with only a corner of the bologna slice. He wasn’t allowed on the couch, but he always slept on the couch. We could hear him getting off the couch in the morning.
My favorite Duke story I’ve told before, but it is worth retelling. Duke was a wanderer. He lived in the days before leash laws. He’d follow his people. One day he happened to find my grandmother. He had stayed at my grandparents’ house while we were on vacation one year. They were not pet people. Duke used to take off and go home to an empty house. My grandfather would have to retrieve him. One day Duke ran into my grandmother uptown in the square. She went into Woolworth’s. He followed. He stayed with her while she browsed the aisles. As she was checking out, Duke lifted his leg on the comic book revolving stand. The manager yelled. he wanted to know if Duke was my grandmother’s dog. She said no which was the truth. He told her he saw the dog following her. My grandmother claimed innocence, shrugged a bit, paid for her goods, took her bag and left. Duke followed her out the door.
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keepthecoffeecoming.blog 
March 16, 2024 at 3:16 pm
Hi Kat,
Today it’s a cloudy and dreary day with intermittent drizzle and rain. The high temperature is a chilly 63°.
At one time we had three dogs at home. We had Rolex, a retired racing Greyhound, Lady, a black lab mix, and Cowboy, a dachshund. The three of them got along just fine. The retired Greyhound makes the best pets. They are used to being on a strict kennel schedule, they are just big couch potatoes who require no exercise, and they rarely bark. They are the worst watch dogs. If a burglar broke into your house, your Greyhound would watch from your sofa. 🙂 Lady was a very aloof dog and she was also a rescue. Cowboy thought that he was a Greyhound and was also a couch potato. He was also a rescue from a local no kill shelter.
Since we have become empty nesters, we are without pets. My better half threatens to bring home a small lap type dog and train it to do its business on a puppy pad. I’m afraid that I will be the one having to walk the dog since our backyard has no grass area just a pool. I was thinking of a pet more like a goldfish. 🙂
March 16, 2024 at 11:49 pm
Hi Bob,
I’m thinking 63° is warm. We stayed at 45° which is chilly! It was on and off sun all day. It is supposed to rain startin sometimes during the night.
We always had a dog while I was growing up. Much later, after my parents lost their last dog, they had two cats and always had two cats after that. My family has pets. My two sisters have cats, 3 and 2. My nieces and nephews have dogs and one also has cats. I can’t imagine not having a pet.
My neighbors had a greyhound. It was retired. They had to potty train it, teach it to walk on a leash. It was skittish. After a while, it settled in nicely.