Mighty McGee here.
MomPerson often describes me as her delicate flower. I’m here to tell you. It’s a ruse. I look small and fluffy and sweet. But after three years in this nut house with Nemo and DiNozzo and Rupert … I am learning to be a Big Dawg in a tiny package. Just don’t tell the MomPerson!!
Tonight MomPerson fixed herself a plate and did not think I would notice since I had my dish of kibble in the Big Bed (**Don’t ask … he eats better, and has gained a few ounces. LeSigh**)
… Hey!! Who is telling this story, Mommmmmm?? So. I was eating my dry, bland kibble (**you mean the Diamond Naturals Lamb you guys got because you, McGee, disliked the chicken so much??**)
heh hemmmmm … Dry. Bland. Kibble. When suddenly, I got a whiff from her plate.
Oh. My. What have I discovered? Stealthily, I snuck over to the corner of the bed. Then the cedar chest. Then a paw on her leg. I’ve never voluntarily gotten this close as part of my Fragile Flower act. I was rewarded with … Ambrosia!! A cut green bean with Mac & Cheese sauce. She didn’t think I would take it … YaKnowFragileFlower … but I did!! I snarfed it. I even wagged my tail. So I got another. This is better than chicken bites!!!!!!! When MomPerson was slow with the Beans – I BARKED! She is so slow … just cannot find good help. (**McGee …. be nice!! I know where the chicken jerky is!!**)
HHmmmph. All in all, I got a handful of beans … even ones with no sauce and they were soooo yummmy! I hope she eats them again (**EatThemAtLeastThreeTimesWeekYouNeverNoticed**) … really soon. But until then … If you are not wanting your nasty, yukky green beans. I, Mighty McGee, will make the sacrifice to eat them for you. Promise.
Mighty McGee here.
Hello out there. I am Rupert. The BIG Red Dawg. Momma is calling me allll kinds of funny names in a gruff voice. And they aren’t very nice names!!!
See. I was outside. I was done going Potty. I had gotten a drink. I was READY to come IN and lounge in the soft, warm blankies. But Momma was busy.
BUSY!! Eating, or sipping tea, or talking to friends online, or tinkering in #TheBarefootNag office. Really does not matter because whatever it was … I was NOT involved.
Being just as Intrepid a Doxie as Momma’s beloved K. C. was .. I set about to solve the issues of Being OUTSIDE.
I knocked at the beveled glass full length storm door. I pawed at it. I tried to dig a hole in it. I finally got my strong and capable paw under a corner of the door … and with alllll my doxie strength, I pulled. And I pulled. AND I PULLLLLLED.
The eye of the hook and eye latch stretched just enough and the door swung open. I pranced into the kitchen. I peed on the trash can in victory. Then I RUSHED in to see Momma in her suite … where she was talking to invisible people … again.
After alllll this struggle, and work and joy to see my cherished Momma … boy, was she MAD and I got new names.
But I like Rupert. I hope I am Rupert again tomorrow.
The MomPerson calls me the Fragile Flower. I called to her from many miles away for many days. The day she came to get me, it was the hottest day of that year. And half way into the three hour drive, the A/C went out in her Little Red Wagon. Mom, DiNo, and Mom’s dear friend Claudia had to ride in the blistering OK heat to come get me. I was a Rescue Doggie, and Mom had come to be my foster. Basically, she was there to spring me and to by my taxi service. I wasn’t doing well in shelter and was getting a little snappy. What can anyone expect? I am just a little dog. On that long ride back home, thank goodness for Sonic ice!! We all had a bunch. I rode home on Claude’s lap daintily eating ice, because DiNo said it was safe. So far, DiNo has not been wrong.
I came from a house that had dozens of Doxies, but it was so small and it didn’t smell very nice. We did not eat very well there, either. I have dry eye, and bad ears, and awful teeth. Noises still startle me. Still, I am MIGHTY McGee!! I have the MomPerson wrapped around my pudgy golden paw. DiNo is quite the teacher of handling the Staff on Duty.
I eat in my own private box. with blankies. When I go outside with the lower doggies, I have to be carried back in. DiNo says special doggies don’t have to walk everywhere. Every so often, I’ll stroll in the kitchen door and wake my tail. Makes Mom realllly happy. I like to toss a crumb from time to time, as long as I don’t miss a bite!! Tonight, the big doggies were outside, so I got to clean Mom’s dinner dish. Okay, I actually demanded bites and was rewarded with the dish. It was ham and sweet tater and green beans.
I get on the big bed by announcing I need to be lifted. If demands are not immediately met, I get louder, and sharper. I have a special pillow at the head of the Big Bed to sleep on, it has a soft and fuzzy blankie that no one else is allowed to sleep on.
For a little dog that had such a bad start, I’ve found that soft spot to land.
In case anyone ever asks? Rescue matters. It matters BIGLY 🙂 MomPerson hates that word … but sometimes it just works.
This little blog has languished in unintentional mothballs for many, many moons.
We’ve moved … from city to country.
I’ve gone back to work.
We lost K.C.
We’ve lost Baxter, and Princess Cashmere, and The Evil Spotty Boy
We’ve gained Pegeen, and Nemo, and Rupert, and Tibby, and McGee. We’ve gained One-Eyed Jack.
I’ve had surgery.
We’ve had people drift in and out of our life … bringing both joy & sorrow
The brave Mercury was killed, and a lovely Seville has taken her place
Karol’s truck went missing for over a year, and needs to be repaired and partially rebuilt.
DiNozzo, the horses and I soldier on … Blessed (an add word for the agnostic, but apt) with the aid of friends and strangers. We try to make each day better than the next.
I count my small successes and accomplishments as major victories.
Ten acres and a barn and a house to conserve and improve. Gratefully and happily a challenge I’ll accept. The adventures may not be of the Dapple Duo any longer, but they are dynamic. I don’t know that I’ll change the name … maybe K.C. will send us another sassypants little l/h dapple someday to be DiNo’s sidekick. The Pinky & the Brain of the Doxie World.
I hope that someone will follow along as I muddle through … learn something, teach something. Laugh with us, shake your head at silly things that occur … I know that Karol does.
My Motherrr has Pugs. Not my cup of tea, but they are kinda cute. They make her happy. She loves to write about their ‘adventures’ as I love to write about the DappleDuo.
She wrote this in a Pug forum …
“Tonight I started and finished a death to mice project in the kitchen. Mice are disgusting and destructive and the only none use for a snake. But lacking a snake, I pulled the storage unit, let Mallory the Steam Cat in for a quick look and started a disgusting job. Finished with varnishing the storage space and caulking any runways. Then off to throw everything in the washer. I looked down the hall. Princess was helplessly intangled in a WM grocery sack. Yes, she had been dumpster diving for left over food, but she was tangled up and couldn’t get free. And she was coming to me for help. No yelps, no complaints, blind and partially deaf. She was tracking me in the sure belief that I would help. I have often said that Princess is a better pug than I am a human. No one talks much about courage in these small animals, but they have courage in spades.
A word about Atoka, who was born without useful eyes, used as a breeding dog, taken by a small vibrant rescue, sent to a larger rescue and washed ashore here. He has no way to see me and has the good heart not to judge me. He spends his day helping around the house and resting his head on my feet. They are a unique breed, no wonder they saved a king.”
I mentioned that little dogs are brave beyond the reach of their little legs. Dogs tend to reflect on us as a mirror. They show us our hearts in their eyes … even if they don’t physically have them.
Her reply was …
“When you took the DD to see the B17, I commented on how cute they were surging forward like inchworms straining against their leash. Standing under an alert rescue helo, they didn’t break a sweat. Having dragged them away as they terrorized the luckless white boxer bitch visiting the aircraft, we took them to grass to refresh themselves, and they limped to the car with terrible thorns. Like any good person, I picked goat head thorns from them under their protest, and without as much as tah-tah to me, they lept into the back seat of the car to wave to their passing fans. Family dogs reflect the courage I rarely see in humans unless I am watching Beau Geste. One of your dogs came from a cash smart byb, the other was thrown over a vet’s office wall by children and was never reclaimed. Fortunately for both of the DD, they claimed your heart and stayed the course. I guess tonight, and every night, I am glad to know them all. Even Mandy, who frightens me.”
I kinda sorta hope that I am as brave as the Dapple Duo … who did stand and watch a helicopter prepare for flight and swoop around them within 500 feet. Never batted an eye. Like the old saying goes … I also hope that I am the person my dog thinks I am 🙂
I had the gall the last two days to go do stuff.
Yesterday I took Motherrr to see the bomber, then we went to lunch, then we took the DappleDuo to PetCo.
Today, I went to the fair with my brother. This meant the kids have had no entertainment, and the dogs were outside.
I get home, unload all the loot (made a Petsmart run) and put my feet up – and the recliner puts me to sleep. Wake up, putter around, eat my Jack in the Box tacos, feed the dogs their cheesyburgers … Dalai comes to sniff and flick her tail … but the house is strangely calm. Quiet. Where is Captain??
Hunt, call, open doors … No Captain
Panic starts to set in
Hunt, call, rummage around rooms … No Captain
Sit … breathe … think … panic
Search garage , call, shake food can … No Captain
Poke my head out the front door, call …….. Demmit!!!!! DiNo dashes out the front door, into the dark. Without thinking, I dash after him. Barefoot. In my underwear. Yep – I had taken my jeans off, but not put my Jammies on. So there i am … chasing this lithe, energetic wriggly eel puppy down the street. He is deliriously happy chasing smells. We were sooo fortunate that a nice man was talking to someone in his yard and DiNo was more than happy to say hello. Boy, i hope he did not notice my state of undress!
Back to the hunt for Captain … once I catch my breath. Hunt another hour.
KC, DiNo, & Remy decide they now want out back. In about 5 mins – KC starts to Yip. Totally different sound for him. Shoes, Shorts, Flashlight … head out, call … and there is an answer!! Run to the far side of the yard, and there is KC and his kitten, and I am beyond elated.
Scoop Captain up … his little tail was POOFed … and hug him. For once in his Evil Spotty Boy life, he hugged me back. KC also gets a ride in. He found his kitty and called for rescue.
Everyone is back indoors, I am wrung out … and researching feline & canine ankle bracelets. Not a few hours I ever want to repeat!! Ever!
I enjoy looking at pics of the things people dress their dogs in. Just as I enjoy the extreme grooming that people do. The dogs typically seem to be enjoying the attention and being pretty. But it is not something I would ever do. From the day KC came home I swore I would not dress the Dachshund.
Now, KC is supposed to be a long-haired Doxie. He has lovely silky ears … and the rest of his coat … well … it sorta sucks. Thin, coarse, medium length at best. Nutrition has improved his size and the seen of his coat, but I think we are stuck with crappy otherwise. DiNo’s coat is softer and longer, but still not what the AKC describes.
Oklahoma Winters are bone-chilling cold. Now, I enjoy the cold. KC and DiNo … not so much. The weather started to turn this week. KC did alright for two days, then told me repeatedly he wanted his t-shirt. Yes … we do not dress the dachshund, but he has a wide selection of t-shirts:
… and a jacket
but this is all protective gear. They keep him warm and snuggly. Yup, that is my story and I am sticking to it! When nights are in the 60’s, he wants his t-shirt. Take it off? He wilts for hours after. gives pathetic looks until a new t-shirt is found.
So … no, we do not dress up the Dachshunds, we are responsible pet parents and make sure they have sufficient protection.