Walking Chester

Vegas Baby! and Bunny Lives On

My husband and I were sitting in the family room watching tv. Nothing special, probably Law and Order or videos of funny dogs. With no warning he looked up and said, “Let’s go to the sphere and see The Wizard of Oz.”

“Um, OK.” I replied, never one to turn down a chance to gamble. I had (note the tense here) a reputation for winning some money or at least breaking even. My thought was that if I could win a bunch of money I could buy a chipper-shredder. And a white lit up deer for Christmas. And a business quality copier/printer. No particular reason for these things other than I would like them. So last Wednesday we flew to Vegas. Chester got to visit Camp Bow-Wow(he likes it there) and I wrangled/begged/owe for life our neighbor to watch Zeus. She said other than thinking he might be dead every time she came over it was fine. He is over 15 and hard of hearing and seeing so doesn’t always come to the door. You have to poke him, and so far he’s been alive.

The flights were fine, no issues. The hotel…well we had a few problems, and I wouldn’t recommend it. The food? Pricey and good. But The Wizard of Oz? How many ways can I say amazing?! It was most definitely worth the whole trip. I would like to see it again.

The show is there at least until the end of April, so it would be possible except for one thing….or lack of one thing….or actually about two hundred things that no longer exist meaning my dollars. Some went to the Return of the Moolah slot machine (they didn’t return) and the poker game. Blackjack got a few, as did The Price is Right slot machine. Unfortunately, even though I told myself I had to win some time, I didn’t have to after all. We made friends with this Roomba-type carpet cleaner.

When I took the picture it was scooting away from me. We ate at the top of the World Restaurant, which spins around (very slowly, not like those gravity things at the fair that spin you around then drop the floor and leave you pressed against the wall, that would make me sick if it was a restaurant.) You end up with a 360-degree view of Las Vegas and the mountains. Gorgeous.

We also saw a display /museum about finding King Tut’s Tomb and The Mob Museum (two different things). We had a really wonderful time, and were only gone a couple days.

Everyone was fine when we got home. Chester and I have been enjoying the fall weather at the park. We have had a string of nice days.

For my birthday we went to a sushi place that had these pink flower candles that exploded into mini-fireworks on an ice cream dessert.

During this, a loud disco-type beat started, then burst into “happy birthday to you” etc. It was a very nice inspiration for Vegas. I love big, over the top things, and this qualified.

For those concerned, Bunny continues to live. Bunny is Chester’s weird stuffed animal who for some reason has not been destroyed like every other stuffie. Chester has taken a liking to Bunny. I found Bunny in the laundry basket.

Chester protects Bunny from…what? He’s the most threatening bunny-destuffer there is.

Again, if you feel like a quick trip to Vegas, see the Wizard of Oz at the Sphere. Don’t freak out about some of the cut lines (yes we noticed, but it was worth it anyway). It may not be for purists if you are a persnickety purist, but it’s overwhelming and totally immersive! And, let’s root for Bunny for another week or so. I’m to the point where I don’t think I will let Chester destroy it anyway, but will put Bunny up somewhere if he starts chewing. I’m developing an attachment to Bunny like I did the big Roomba thing. If I win at Vegas I’m going to get one of those too.

Have a good week!

Chester’s Bunny

Chester destroys squeaky toys. He demolishes them until they are a pile of fluff. We discovered this immediately upon adopting him.

Not only does he destroy fluffy toys but boxes.

Chester joined our family 8 years ago and has not outgrown the desire to destroy stuffies. I think it is the squeak that initiates the challenge. Maybe he thinks there is a small animal inside begging to be eaten. This has continued over the years with a few blips on the radar screen. Kong toys are incredibly resistant to Chester’s teeth. This caused him to take a day or two instead of five minutes. He did, however, prevail.

Then came the bunny. Yes, we call them all bunnies, but that’s beside the point. This bunny was a gift from Paisley, since she didn’t care to destroy cute animals. It is the least bunny-like toy I have ever seen. In fact I’m not even sure it’s a bunny.

Chester loves it. Not only did he resist tearing it to shreds, but he carries it around.

One morning I looked outside and thought there was a dead animal in the grass. When I put my glasses on, I peered out and thought it looked familiar. Yes, he had taken his bunny outside but neglected to bring it in. He tries to do that with his Kongs but we don’t let him. How did he get it past me? Maybe the bunny hopped out there himself.

It’s going on a couple weeks and bunny lives on. Unlike a cute piggie that we gave him. This piggie was unstuffed in a flash, with the squeaky plastic thing de-squeaked.

The remnants of the piggie. The blue thing in front is his original bunny. It’s missing a leg but in relatively good shape considering.

Chester didn’t mince bites. He did get some of the white stuff in his front teeth and we had to dig it out. He never eats it, but he uses his front teeth to pull the stuffing out and I guess he got overexcited. The piggie is gone but the strange bunny still rules.

I’ll let you know the outcome. I think the bunny is setting a record here.

Last week I wrote about Paisley, the sweet doggie I was privileged to watch for a week. She had cancer but was full of joy. Paisley has passed on. She was living her best life, full of love and treats. RIP pretty girl.

Going with the Flow

Sometimes when you haven’t any room in your heart it stretches a bit. This is the case with a small dog named Paisley.

To set the scene, a neighbor to my sister’s house had a medical emergency and was unable to return home. Like many other seniors, he lived alone. His wife had passed, and he still had her dog. When he was taken to the assisted living location, the dog was not permitted. All protestations and recriminations and discussion about how wrong that philosophy is did not matter. The dog needed a home.

My sister was adamant that she was not taking the dog. She did not want a dog. How do I know? She said, “I don’t want a dog,” No ifs, ands, or buts. She was finally petless and able to travel freely. To my credit, for once I did not boss her, make her feel guilty, or tell her what to do. (Really!) I listened. She said others had said she should take the dog. Nonetheless she was steadfast in her I don’t want a dog” stance. Then the family of the gentleman decided to sell the house immediately and take the dog to who knows where, probably the kennel.

A little about Paisley. She is twelve years old and has cancer. She had cancer several years ago, and it grew back. She has a massive tumor on her leg. Bottom line, she would not make it in a kennel. Back to my sister…

I have seen a determined sister; everyone in our family is a little hard-headed (except me of course). But the wall began to weaken, and she took Paisley to the vet. Sadly, the tumor is inoperable and malignant. He didn’t give an estimation of life, but right now she seems perky and happy. In case you didn’t foresee this, my sister took Paisley amidst protestations and swearing up and down. Literally.

I have been receiving photos of Paisley. It’s pretty clear what is happening. She is adorable. My sister’s heart will stretch until it’s time, then be broken. There’s no helping it.

So while I was supportive, we live a few hours away and I was able to keep my heart in one piece. Then came sister’s Michigan trip. For many reasons, this was a mandatory trip. She was not just taking vacation but involved in an event with many people. She had to go. She asked me if I would consider staying at their house and watching Paisley. After looking at my calendar, I realized that with some manipulation of dates, I could. Hence, I met Paisley.

Paisley and I are buddies now. She is the sweetest little princess, full of spunk. She already pegged me for the pushover I am. I’m sure it won’t be appreciated when they come home and have to undo some of the little habits she picked up. No, Paisley, you can’t have a treat every time you look at them. (Unless you are with Aunt Martha, hee hee).

I’m sunk. My heart stretched out and let this little girl in. How do you not? My sister has stated that Paisley is going to live her best life however long it is. I am so glad to have had a few days to get to know her. We have gone down to Jan’s Ice Cream, walked around the neighborhood, and I’m trying to teach her to fetch. I throw the squeaky bone. She trots to the squeaky bone and looks at it, then runs back to me. Oh, Paisley. She and I have binge watched an old Project Runway that I have already seen. She was a little bored and fell asleep. She doesn’t like wet grass. She does like to do her business right in the middle of the street. Cars don’t faze her, she doesn’t move until she’s done. She gets one Kong a day but persuaded me to refill it later in the afternoon. I told her if mom asks, just say I have a bad memory.

Happy gotcha day to Chester!!! We adopted him from the Cleveland Animal Control kennel back when it was the old kennel, in 2018. He is an official city dog! He was five years old they said, but hard to tell. Chester is the best dog ever! When adopting a stray there’s not a lot to go on. The first day he jumped over the fence and tore up the garbage. We moved the garbage, fattened him up a little and took him on three walks a day to work off the energy. Then he calmed down except with squirrels and bunnies, and cats. Now, at around age 12, he sleeps more, and his walks are getting shorter. But last night he charged out to the back fence and treed a raccoon. Then, he backed up out of reach to see if the raccoon would come down. It didn’t.

Happy gotcha day big boy. We love you and are so glad you are part of our lives. Here’s to many more!

Peeps, Candy and Tanks

I am not with it. I can’t remember anything, and the days are flying by way too fast. Since I can’t remember things, I can’t remember if I showed you what I found at the Redi-go down the street. If I did, enjoy the rewind. If not, it’s too good not to share.

I don’t know why these were still on the counter, not snapped up by peep afficionados. There were several of them so I took two, one original and one birthday cake peep. I took the birthday cake peep even though my husband doesn’t like them. I am not a peep fan in the slightest, but he likes them and usually lets them sit out a day or so to get crusty. I figured that since he likes them kind of stale and hardened, he would like these. They are pre-crusty and free! Free! I would take just about anything if it was free. To my surprise he did not eat them. So when they reached a few months old, I finally threw them out. I feel bad wasting perfectly good peeps but since he didn’t eat them it’s his fault.

Peeps are kind of all-American, right? That’s appropriate because I have had a truly All-American kind of summer. Let’s start with baseball. When the grandkids play baseball we try to attend. The problem is, they are always playing baseball. At the beginning of the season, everyone is so happy to be there. This is kind of the feeling, sun setting, kids having fun, everyone optimistic.

By the end of June and beginning of July, the kids are still having fun. But see all the trees and bushes in the beautiful park setting? They are home to over a billion mosquitoes and blackflies, who distract us. While we are waving our arms around, the ticks sneak up and try to attach themselves to our ankles. Wear socks you may say. Noooooo, sorry. Being that it was about 200 degrees in the shade, socks would just add to the overheating sweatiness. I was lucky enough to have a husband who bought me a lawn chair with a roof on it. So while I was luxuriating in the portable shade, he was baking in the hot sun, probably thinking, “I am going to pull a Dateline and throw her body in the mosquito infested bushes and steal that chair.” I of course was thinking, “What a wonderful husband, thank God he got me this chair or I would pitch a sweaty, arm-flailing fit.” I exaggerate, and baseball was wonderful on three counts: the grandkids were happy that we came, I do love baseball, and the concession stand had the best popcorn ever. That counted for a lot.

This is another reason I love little league baseball! Best fans ever!

The Fourth of July rolled around in all its glory and continued hotness. Did I mention this has been the summer not from hell, but where the devil goes when he wants to warm up? Since one grandkid was born on the fourth, we went to his birthday party. After he opened his presents and we had cake, we had our own fireworks. Our son got little tanks and they had a tank war. The fireworks company used to make chickens but I haven’t seen them lately. The tank war was very exciting as you can see by this picture.

Chester doesn’t freak out, but he is not particularly happy about fireworks. He was, however, very happy with this bone. He carried it around with him and it took a couple days to obliterate. He has been wanting to take his Kong outside too. Then he doesn’t bring it back in. I’m not sure what he is trying to tell us.

There is a Lake County Fair, and as such, the Lake County Fair Parade. It is the greatest of all parades. Since we have a Model A car, we drive in the parade. We throw little candies that the grandkids don’t eat at the crowds along the parade route. One year we had a whole bucket of year-old candy so we threw that. Seriously, we go to this candy store on the west side of Cleveland. It’s called B.A. Sweeties. It is a giant warehouse full of candy. We spend too much money on cheap candies that are not meltable a few for each of us. We split up the candy to throw and each buy one “special” candy like a full-sized bar for one really sad looking little kid. In addition, this year my husband bought electric squirt guns and the kids sat in the rumble seat and sprayed people along the parade route. They made a plan to throw the candy a shorter distance, then when the bystander kids came closer to pick up the candy the grandkid would spray them in the face.

Honestly the bystander kids were standing with their arms outstretched yelling, “Spray me!” Or one kid would point at another and yell, “Spray her!” It’s great fun and we get into the fair for free. But once in the fair, the Demolition Derby cost $10, a “Bucket-o-Fries” cost $12, and it cost $10 for the grandkid to throw an oversized basketball into an undersized hoop. He did finally make a basket, after $20. He got a basketball with pictures of money all over it, which seemed appropriate.

The rest of summer will be calmer. I hope for another trip to the beach, and some relaxed time outside when it is cooler. Chester is taking shorter walks since it’s so hot. We take water and shorten our route. Enjoy what’s left of summer and have an iced tea on the deck with a good book. That’s what I will be doing!

Take care!

Let’s talk about rocks

A Salt-n-Pepa song is running through my head but with a slight word variant: let’s talk about rocks, bay-bee, let’s talk about rocks…etc. Somehow rocks keep popping up.

We flew to Portland, Oregon a couple weeks ago to visit our grand-kitties. Oh, and our daughter and son-in-law, and our son came from NYC as well. And here are the kitties:

First, Portland is beautiful, and they went from a darkish apartment to one with almost floor to ceiling windows that graced us with a rainbow. We had a wonderful visit.

On the way back, in the lovely Portland airport, TSA pulled me over for a pat down. I had not worn a belt on purpose, so after patting myself on the back while holding my pants up, I expected a quick run through the machine. The TSA agent asked me what was in my pocket. I had to think a minute, then realized my transgression. “Chapstick and a little rock,” I replied.

“I have to see the Chapstick,’ she said sternly. She took it and opened it, observing the stuff inside. Now to be honest, it wasn’t Chapstick per say but lip balm I get for free at the dermatologist. I am a lip balm junky and grab them wherever I can. I carry them everywhere and am an expert on removing it from clothing when I accidentally run them through the washing machine.

Apparently satisfied that Chapstick wasn’t another word for universe destroying goo, she asked what else was in my pocket. I had already told her a rock, but did not feel that it would be in my best interest to point that out, so I repeated myself. She stated she needed to see that also. I showed her my rock and clarified that it was a healing rock in case the plane crashes. She looked at it and with a slight head move, waved me over.

That was the smallest rock. The next biggest one was at the Japanese Gardens in Portland. There were lots of rocks, and I liked this one.

There were also lots of big goldfish. I have goldfish…they look like this.

These were quite a bit bigger.

I guess by the way they swim up to any visitor that people must throw food in there, and I’m sure it drives the staff crazy. When I was a kid they had large fish (not sure if they were carp or goldfish, they were some mutation of giant fish and underwater behemoths) at Cedar Point in Sandusky.

We little ones and teenagers used to throw food (25 cents at a gumball machine) or if we had no money, bread to them. It was mesmerizing to watch these large bodied fish bumping into each other. Honestly it was my favorite part of Cedar Point except for the river cruise that had the fake people and pirates threatening us. The same people (or at least the same designers and joke writers) were responsible for the train ride mannequins threatening us and drinking moonshine. I’m getting nostalgic.

The third rock was the mother of all rocks. It was on the west coast in a town called Cannon Beach. I remember seeing the ocean while we were driving to it, and an unbelievable thrill went through me. I squealed, “The Ocean!!!” and couldn’t wait to get out of the car. The minute we parked (after using the bathroom of course) I ran to the ocean, took off my shoes and ran in. It was a little cold but the ultimate cool was Haystack Rock.

It’s hard to describe the wild waves and rocks. In our idle discussions about where we want to be buried, I have wavered between the Atlantic Ocean and Lake Erie. No longer wishy-washy, I want to be dumped into the Pacific by the big rock. I’m not a morbid person, it just comes up in conversation occasionally. So yeah, Haystack Rock, the biggest of the rocks we visited, is the bomb.

Chester got to visit Camp Bow Wow. He does like it there but I committed the worst offense and didn’t send enough food. They fed him from their emergency stash. I have no excuse and will be taking a bag of food over there to replenish. Here is a picture of him with the Easter Bunny.

He did not chase the bunny around the room and he did get a pup cup for it. He is doing just fine.

Have a wonderful week!

To all my peeps

I am not a peep person. My husband is. He likes them crusty, so he leaves them open for a couple days.

In the past couple of years, the Peeps company has been making peeps a year round delight. We have green trees at Christmas, pink bunnies, purple something or other, and now this.

Yes, Dr. Pepper peeps. This is where I draw the line. I did try one, but nope, not happening. I find them…how shall we say…disgusting. My husband ate some, but he is a bit of a traditionalist, preferring the yellow chicks. I mean come on, what does Dr. Pepper have to do with the word “Peeps”?

In other happenings, I took the grandkids to the mall, and the 7-year-old wanted to drive. Since he has been little he has been enamored of cars and racing. Would mommy and daddy let him take off? well, probably, but he knew Grandma would cave in. I have to admit my heart was in my throat when he first headed straight for the big glass window. I said, “Don’t hit anybody” sort of like the mom in a Christmas Story said “Don’t shoot your eye out.” He took off for ten minutes of racing in and out all the little stands in the middle of the mall. But, he didn’t hit anyone (thank God). His older brother and i just looked at each other…he was grinning, I was terrified.

Chester has been a good boy except for first thing when he comes downstairs. He sits on the couch and puts his paw out getting me to rub his belly. Eventually he goes outside, especially if I say, “Let’s feed the birds.” I guess he likes his birds.

He and I went to the park and part of the parking lot was blocked off. Turns out they were doing a prescribed burn. Here’s what it looked like during.

And after.

It will be interesting to see what grows there. I know it’s not a bad thing, but I still feel uneasy.

Here are a couple pictures of Chester and our walk. We are visiting family both tomorrow and Sunday, so it should be nice. I have to take something, so I’m taking Dr. Pepper peeps.

Notes for what?

Do you use “Notes” on your phone? I was thinking about posting options and looking at my notes. In the past I only used it for Christmas presents and writing topics. Then I started using them for things to pick up at CVS. Shortly thereafter it got out of hand. Today I was looking for a topic and read the following: Stamps, pick up bell, drop of cap, syrup, candy, beer (to who? I’d like to know!), music store, “that was smurfully funny,” time change, does anyone have a piece of music, Mpb, coffee, and finally “When the market goes up.”

Yep, that’s really helpful stuff.

The last one I do remember. There is this local commercial here in the Cleveland area. The man reminds me a little of Lawrence Welk. He says that there is a well-known saying, “When the market goes up you share in the gains and when the market goes down you’re protected from loss.” Have you heard that saying? I think it’s a stretch to say it’s well known. He also says, “Zero is my hero.” Of course we all know that one, right? Uhh…

Other local celebrities include the little girl from the Calvetta Brothers flooring. She’s out of college now and getting married. We bought carpet from them and I really wanted to demand that she sign the agreement but I chickened out.

Tim Misny is so well known he doesn’t even have to put his name on the billboard.

Then there’s Kia…the first time I heard the now famous tagline it was a bleary eyed 6:00am on the morning show. This blonde, attractive, vivacious and way too energetic, comes on with a megawatt smile and without a hint of smirk says, “I wanna see ya in a Ted Ganly Kia.” I stared at the screen as if I had been hit with a force field. I think I muttered, “boy, she has too much energy.”

Every so often, someone takes something that should not work and through being all in it becomes great. She was all in. So was Misny; they are making a Misny movie I heard. From little kid to adult, we watch Casey say “fall in love with your home again, with Calvetta Brothers Floor show.” It worked on us! As for Zero is my hero…well I remembered it. I’m not sure it’s that well known but he believes it. I actually don’t even know what it means.

Chester is enjoying our somewhat less miserable weather and walking in parks. He doesn’t usually love the rain, but he doesn’t hate it either. He’s figured out another way to get treats from John—he finishes his dinner then herds John into the kitchen to show him the empty bowl. That dog may look goofy but he’s smart. If I say, “Did you finish your dinner” his tail stops wagging if he did not eat it. If he did, he paws at John.

Zeus and I have come to a compromise about wake-up time. I will get up after 6:00am. If it’s before, I give him a few Greenies and shut the door. He’s pretty amazing too; he usually starts his yowling around 6:45. He still sticks his face in mine for the first ~~air raid siren~~ meow. Both animals are too smart for me. Have a good week, April showers and all that…

Overcoming bad kittie habits

I have been waging war with our tuxedo cat who has two not-so- endearing habits which I have been trying to modify. This is Zeus..

Zeus will turn 16 years old in May. When our daughter was in high school, her friend’s cat had kittens. Our older cat had just passed away and our son had written a story/poem about our second cat sitting at the front door watching for his friend. (I know, my heart sank) At about the same time (they may have conspired) our daughter asked to adopt one of Missy’s kittens. Inspired or guilted by the son’s writing, I said yes. They were all grey except for one black and white tuxedo cat with an attitude. She chose him and named him Zeus because the cat they thought was his daddy was this huge feral cat. Mom cat didn’t have access to DNA tests but if she could talk…Anyway, we brought this adorable kitten home, and the second cat loved him. Shoot, everybody loved him.

I had never had a kitten before. We bought short litter boxes and kitten food. One day I ran home from work because I was afraid he would fall into the sump pump. He didn’t. He loved to play with string toys and our son taught him to open the front door. One day our neighbor called because the door was open and nobody was home. . We all knew what happened. He was an escape artist, darting out the door if given half a chance. He used up several lives that way but thank goodness he always came back. He knew where the Greenies were. From day one, he was loud. The vet surmised he may have Siamese genes because he made such a racket in the vet’s office.

Zeus now has kidney disease. He is stable, but he has decided that I have to waken at 7:00am give or take 10 minutes, no ifs ands or buts. He sticks his face right in front of mine and begins to yowl. Honestly it’s comparable to a fire alarm.

This morning he tried to get me up at 5:30 so I gave him a bunch of Greenies and shut the door. Usually I don’t mind getting up but I was tired and ended up sleeping until 8:30. It was loverly.

my husband celebrated baseball with this photo of our major league cat team a few years ago. Go Guardians!

Zeus’ second habit has been to walk back and forth on my keyboard. I pet him which is probably reinforcing, but it’s OK, I love him and take advantage of pet time while I still can. The thing is, I have been doing some song arranging and when he steps on something it is harder to fix. I bought this shoe rest from Ikea for the handbells, and I had the bright notion to put it over my keyboard.

It worked! It dissuaded him until he gave up and went to sleep on the cat tree. Then I moved it because the only issue is not being able to see the screen with metal squares in front of it. I think we have a winner here. He still can walk behind it, just not on the keyboard.

I gave Zeus some extra greenies today since it’s Fat Tuesday. I suppose I shouldn’t use the word fat, but since I am fat I think I’ve earned it. This is how I earned it…

Here in Cleveland we have a strong Paczki community. People line up for miles. Just like they line up for corned beef on St. Patrick’s Day and Christmas Ale in October, or is it September? Probably August. I don’t even like jelly donuts, but similar to egg nog, peeps, and roasted pumpkin seeds, I will force myself to eat one for the holiday (I’m just kidding, I love all of these except for peeps, but I still choke down one peep on Easter.)

Have a good week, spring is on the way! Here are a couple pictures from Chester’s last walk. It was really nice. Too bad it’s supposed to rain today and tomorrow (or snow, who knows?)

You never know what you’re going to find when the snow melts!

Back in the Saddle

OK, let’s address the elephant in the living room – I haven’t posted since before Christmas. Sheesh, what a slacker! I guess I should let you know why but I’m not going to. Mostly because I don’t know myself. I had some ups and downs but rest assured Chester and I continue to walk. Chester is a happy happy dog in the snow, he goes outside, buries his face in it then stands there with a snow-covered snoot.

I am a little less enthusiastic. I try my hardest to get him to not take the whole loop around the neighborhood but he stops and stands there looking at me till we go where he wants to go. I have pulled out my yak trax to keep me from wiping out on the ice but he actually bounces around on the ice. Crazy dog.

Amazingly, not that much is new. Most of the time Chester and I look like this.

I am probably the last person on the face of the planet who has not seen Wicked, but a friend and I are going today! We tried to go a month or week ago. I pulled up to the theater, and a fire truck was there. Not a good sign. A bunch of people were standing around outside. I asked this guy what happened. He said he didn’t know. He said they told them to leave. I said what, in the middle of the movie? He said yes. I said what were you watching? I can’t even remember what he said as he sidled away from me. Now that’s going to bother me. Anyway, since it is a long movie and I had to watch the boys, we aborted our Wicked mission. Second attempt is this afternoon at the ONLY theater who is still showing it (one time a day!) Stay tuned.

We do get out occasionally. My husband and I drove through Taco Bell. The window person asked if we wanted hot sauce. Husband said I guess a couple. Here is what we got.

I was going to sell them on ebay but the postage was prohibitive. When did stamps go up to 73 cents? I’ll still do my Christmas letter (sorry folks) but wow I might have to actually make some stuff up to make it worth the postage. Another disadvantage to selling them on ebay is that they might leak. That would be unfortunate.

As you can see, I’m not thinking deep thoughts. The most interesting thing I thought of while walking Chester was to wonder if dogs have a mental picture of other dogs when they sniff their pee on the snow. I think they recognize some of the scents because Chester will act more interested in some (one of his many girlfriends probably) and pee over others (Enzo the dreaded enemy). Does he visualize a dog if he doesn’t know them? I don’t know what he thinks, I’m usually too busy zipping my hood up so it looks like a snorkel on top of Zoe Saldana’s marshmallow coat.

I am making it a goal to post once a week whether I have anything or not. At least I can take a bunch of pictures of Chester. I do read all your posts, sometimes I don’t respond or like but I do read them and think things. My fingers are clumsy and I read them on my phone. Take care, stay warm (impossible in Cleveland) and enjoy at least a few more minutes of daylight!

The Burning Bush and the Browns Backer

I’m running behind again, but this is just too cute not to share.

Chester was dressed up as a New Year’s Eve reveler for Halloween. He was good as gold except for eyeing the giant marshmallows at the s’more station. He was fine with the trick-or-treaters, letting them pet him while nosing around their candy bags. He didn’t object to the costume either and got a Milk Bone and a Pupperoni when it was over. We had over 100 kids this year, a fine number. We didn’t get enough candy…we got enough for the kids but didn’t have much left over. What a disappointment that was!

Speaking of Milk Bones, Chester is an official Browns Backer, a member of the Cleveland Browns dog fan club. It makes sense because he is as doggie as they come. I saw it on the Milk Bones box and signed him up.

He got a bandanna, a little thing that goes on his collar, and other general stuff. Doesn’t he look happy? If only the Browns would let him play, I think he and the other pups could take it down the field.

While walking Chester, I noticed how beautiful the burning bushes were. This was a couple weeks ago, they still have some color but not nearly as much. Here is one outside the library.

Here is one along the road.

A whole row of burning bushes!

Here is one in the yard behind ours.

Here is one across the street.

Here is one right next door.

And ours? Here it is.

Ours is the totally green one. What the heck? Our burning bush does not burn. I guess it wasn’t meant to be red. Here is a picture of the only red part on the whole stinking bush.

In a world of conformist bushes we have the rebel. Ah well, at least it’s alive which is something positive. Maybe the landscaper lied to us and it isn’t even a burning bush! Whoa, I just thought of that. Hmmm

My thought is that it needs pruning. A little trimming and realigning and I think it will come back gloriously. I guess it doesn’t matter right now, since none of them look all that great anyway but it’s day to bloom will come! Maybe I’ll throw some fertilizer on it too. There’s probably some manure floating around.

Meanwhile, Chester and I will keep walking in the rain and cold.

What, rain and cold at the end of November? How can that be here in Cleveland? Just because we are in the snow belt, sheesh. Have a nice weekend!

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