Simple Sunday (with a little extra)

We recently drilled a well for a couple who are in the 80's. When Jim and I dropped the rig off, the wife (Mr.S) was telling me about their dog, Tina, and she had to go get Tina so that I could meet her. As I admired Tina, I told her about our dogs and she wanted to see them. I ended having to go out there a few times to run things to Jim and a couple of times I brought our dogs. Mrs. S was so thrilled to meet Duke and Sosha. Sosha put her head out of the car window and this woman closed her eyes as she gave Sosha a little hug. I could tell that she just loved dogs. You could see it in her face.

She wanted to exchange pictures of the dogs. The next time Jim had to head out there I made sure that I had a photo of Duke and Sosha for Mrs. S. Jim had to stop there on Friday and Mrs. S showed him the place of honor she had given Duke and Sosha right on her fridge. She had a picture of Tina for us and even offered Jim a magnet so that we could hang it on our fridge.

I decided that before Tina gets her place on our fridge that she deserves to be admired by all of you!

Tina S. -- one dog who is very well loved!

D-ogs

These are a few of my favorite things:

D is for Dogs.....more specifically Duke (who just happens to be my dog☺!)

Yes, I know I just wrote about cats yesterday, but I do come from a family who always had dogs and cats. What can I say?

So...I'm going to share some pictures of the dogs that I remember the most.

Weenie. The first dog that I can remember. Weenie was a good dog. Loved by the family.

Our Irish Setter, Holly. Holly was quite the dog. She chewed up pillows, shoes, library books. You name it. She loved chocolate and would go to great lengths to open drawers, doors, and chew through pockets to get it. She was a great dog though!

Ruby. When Jamie and I moved back in with my parents, Jamie fell in love with Ruby. She crawled, then toddled everywhere Ruby went. Ruby would crawl under my mom's buffet just to get a break (she thought). Jamie would follow. We loved Ruby. She moved to Florida and then back to Michigan shortly before Jim and I were married. She was such a good dog. When Ruby died was the first time I ever saw Jim cry.

Otis. We got Otis the week Jon turned two. He was really Jamie's dog, but when we moved here he became Pa's (Jim's dad) buddy. Jim grew up with outside-only dog and that's what Otis was (he stayed in the heated shop on cold winter nights). But even when we tried, we couldn't get him to come up the two steps into our house from the office. Otis disappeared once, for about three months. People down and across the road had him. Seriously. We took him back. Otis was loved by everyone. When he died, Jim and I lovingly buried him and cried.

Bear. Poor Bear. When we got Bear, we decided to install invisible fencing and he was easy to train. For some reason, one day, he crossed the line (we think the little girl across the road was calling him), crossed the road, and was hit coming back. I called him my Silly Old Bear.

Sosha. She's not mine, but Jamie's. She was a southern gal, an apartment dog. When Jamie moved back in, Sosha was part of the deal. Jamie thinks that when she moves back out to an apartment that Sosha will happily re-adjust. We can't imagine she'll ever want to be anything but a country dog ever again.

In September of 2006, my mom's dog had puppies. She was old. The vet said that it would be like a 70-year-old woman having a baby. Understandably, Heidi rejected them. I named the black one Duke and Jamie named the light one Toby. We bottle-fed them around the clock every two hours. We helped them go potty. We became their mommas for a month. It was never our intention to keep them. Loving homes were lined up ahead of time. Toby went to live with a great family. When he was two, their teenage daughter sent me pictures and the nicest letter about how much they love him.

Duke left for a week and ended up coming back here. I was so happy! I had grown quite attached.This is my favorite baby Dukie picture. He looks like he's smiling.

Dukie's first Christmas.

Duke at about four months.

Dukie. Again.

I love this picture of Duke. I've been known to carry it when we travel. Don't judge me!

Apparently when your kids grow up, you transfer that attachment to your pets, especially if you don't have grandkids. Yet. We have Duke. And we're pretty attached.

*As I was finishing this up, Jamie let Duke in for the night and noticed he had some scrapes on his face. Poor guy. He got into some kind of scrap. I made Jim get back up and clean his boo-boos.

C-ats

These are a few of my favorite things:

C is for Cats.

I can always remember having a cat when I was growing up. I can remember Snowflake. I don't have a picture of Snowflake, but I'm pretty sure she started having her kittens on my bed in the middle of the night. My parents had a heck of a time getting her to move them into a box. She was determined to stay in the bed.
Maybe my siblings can clarify. Our basement flooding once and I seem to remember that our cat had her kittens all huddled up together to keep their heads above water. Luckily the flooding was caught early enough that tragedy could be averted. Was this Snowflake and did this really happen? The memory is so vivid that it must have happened, right?

I also remember Puffy who looked much like Snowflake.

The cat I most remember though is Honey. He was (obviously) a honey-colored cat and we also had his brother, whom we called Bit-O-Honey (I think), a calico cat with bits of honey coloring (hence the name). I don't know what happened to Bit-O-Honey, but I know he wasn't around as long as Honey. We moved twice with Honey. And then, one day, he disappeared. Oh, and I know that my dad called him Tom. I'm sure he couldn't bring himself to calling the cat "Honey".

I didn't have a cat for many years after that. After Jim and I married, we ended up with a cat named Bootsie. He was my daughter's cat. When we moved to this house, unknown to us, he sneaked into one of the trucks and when it was opened to unpack, he bolted. I believe he found his way back to our old house (only a couple of miles away), but didn't stick around long.

We had a couple of cats after that. However, we live on a busy road and cats do not fair well on busy roads. As a matter of fact, many years ago when our daughter was in junior high and our son was in preschool...We had a cat named Tasha, again Jamie's cat. Tasha usually went out in the evening and in the morning would show up at Jamie's bedroom window and Jamie would let her in.
One evening, Jim came home after finishing up a job in the evening and pulled me aside to tell me that he had found Tasha on the side of our road. It wasn't good news.
Jim took on the sad task of retrieving the cat and burying her. We were all sad and Jamie cried. A lot.
The next morning, we sadly started our day. Jamie was still quite upset so I decided to take Jon to preschool and come back and take her to school late so that she had extra time to compose herself. I talked to her for a minute, left her in her bedroom to start getting ready, and proceeded to get ready to take Jon to his school.
Weren't we all surprised (or perhaps in shock) a minute later when Jamie came out of her bedroom with a very alive Tasha in her arms?!
Just like any other morning, Tasha showed up at Jamie's bedroom window to be let in.
Yes. Jim did go out and look at the grave. There is someone, somewhere in our neighborhood who must have been missing their gray-striped cat. We never found out who you are...but we gave your cat a proper burial.
I'd like to say that Tasha lived a long happy life after that. But she didn't. She met the same fate as her lookalike.

While all this was going on we had Ozzie. Ozzie was the shop cat. She didn't want to come in the house. She was very happy and comfy in the heated shop. She never ventured out by the road either. She did manage to get into a couple of scrapes, but she lived a long, happy life here.

After that we decided that we just couldn't have a cat that was allowed outside. And we got Boo. Boo was an inside only cat. She did not appreciate that title and took every available opportunity to sneak outside. I, for one, never once enjoyed chasing her around to catch her. Have you very tried to catch a cat? Not easy.
Boo had her quirks and she got to be a cranky old cat, but we all loved her. Even though she really only loved the men of the house. Boo lived a long and happy life of leisure.

After Boo died, I decided that I would take a little break from having cats.

Then my daughter moved back in...with two cats. And that's a whole 'nother story!