Pets

This is Minnie, a wirehaired dachshund, she grew old and had to die. The only thing she seemed to be afraid of was a broom. She would hide out under the bed when the broom came out. I truly believe she had been abused with a broom before I came into her life. She required a lot of grooming. She was so short her belly dragged through the grass. I was constantly trying to keep her clean. When winter came and the snow was two feet deep in the back yard I would need to scoop out an area for her potty spot.

A Little Cat Tale

I’ve never been a cat person, I’m more of a dog person. I know very little about the cat, but I am learning that cats and dogs were not created equally, not even close. I have no pets at the present time so when someone asked me to foster a cat for two weeks, I had a moment of insanity, and said okay. That was the second biggest mistake I ever made in my life. Never mind the first one.

It has now been a month, the owner is still ill and unable to care for her. To start with the cat had always been called Kitty. I thought that was rather stupid so I named her Lassie.

It turns out Lassie is pretty big shoes for a cat to fill so I changed it to Sassy Lassie. Sassy fits her much better. She explores everything. If I leave a closet door open she is in there. This morning I heard a banging noise, and she had managed to shut the bathroom door, and couldn’t get out. She jumps or flies upon the washing machine and from there she makes another flying leap and gets on a window sill so she can look out the window. The window is near the ceiling.  I don’t know how she keeps from breaking her neck.

She plays crazy games, one is to chase an invisible mouse. She catches it, and it gets away so she runs and grabs it again. I bought some cat toys and they have disappeared. I was on my hands and knees yesterday looking under the beds and furniture for them. I can’t find them. She can get on the window sill in the living room and watch for things on the street and in the yard. She was raised with a dog, and has picked up some dog habits. She can make sounds that sound like little quiet dog barks. She does it when she sees a dog. She also barks at birds. She always wags her tail when she does the barking sound.

She thinks her God given assignment is to keep me awake. She attacks my toes in the middle of the night. Most of the time she sleeps on a corner of the bed, and I don’t even know she is there, but I get my toes chewed on and clawed at nightly. This applies to naps as well. The only remedy is to wear my shoes to bed. She gets on the window sill behind my chair and makes another flying leap to the top of my chair and it catches me off guard, and I jump 10 feet in the air. It’s either me or the cat. One of us has to go and I’m pretty sure it won’t be me.

Sassy Lassie

A quiet moment.

What can I get into now look.

My goal is to be a big mean dog.

This spot used to belong to Minnie Pearl (my former dog)

Another Day

It’s just another day in the life of a hermit. I wasn’t a hermit today, I had to get my six month shot. Next week I get my shot in the eyeball. I also get my every other week shot.  I feel like a pincushion. I like to gripe a lot, but if it weren’t for these shots I would be in sad shape. I would be too tired to move out of my tracks, and probably have a broken bone by now and unable to see. Blind, weary and in a cast. I think I like the shots better. Getting old isn’t much fun. The alternative is even less exciting. 
Today the Shot/Bone doctor was amazed at my 41-pound weight loss. I was too because when they weighed me six months ago, I didn’t look at the read out because I didn’t want to know. I weighed more than I thought I did. All the doctors are shocked at the weight loss and act like they think I’m the only person that ever lost any weight. I tell them I’ve been dieting. They don’t settle for that, they want to know what I eat. 
We had a sad event happen this week. We lost one of our family dog's, Sadie. She lived for 14 years so she had a long happy life.
She belonged to my granddaughter and her son's. The great grandson's dog. 
Here are a couple pictures taken a few years ago. 

This is me and Sadie is on my lap. She loved me and I loved her. She thought she was my baby. 

We are smiling for the camera.

The Big House

This is my brother, Gene.  He is an auctioneer. When he was little he talked so fast and with a little jibber jabber mixed in, Hardly anyone could understand him. For some strange reason I was the only one that could understand him. One day he said to Mom, "Whestolc getosaw ppwp;c.tn jlktlrl.,usz jesil". Mom looked at me and asked, " What did he say?"  He said, "when you go to town buy me some shoe strings". Mom thought I had magic powers. She always asked me to be the interpreter. Now he is an auctioneer and talks as fast as he pleases with a little jibber jabber and nobody questions it at all.

I might also add, because I am so proud of it, he is the former Chief of the Oklahoma Highway Patrol. 

Gene and his business partner, John. 

They auction everything from pots and pans to livestock and Real Estate. 

This is the rest of the house. It wasn't jail, but I always said, "I live in The Big House".

I no longer had to store anything under the bed. It had a full basement.

I think that stuff on the ground that looks like snow was ash from the Mount St Helen's Eruption. 

The tree is leafed out so I know it wasn't winter. No date on the picture of course.  

One day it snowed. This is my current residence. Minnie Pearl says, "What happened to my yard?"
This was in 1997. Aha, the date was on the picture.

A whole post without one single picture or word about a grand kid.