He's daring me again

 Loki is one weird cat. Sometimes he likes to play, and sometimes he's a nutter. The other day I was napping under Mom's desk while she was working and he strolled into the office and flopped down on the floor and just stared at me.  I mean, he just stared! 

I didn't know what he wanted. He looked like he died or something. I tried to ignore him because he hates that and he'll leave and go do Loki things, but not this time. 

Bet me he was hoping I'd ask Mom to let me out the door so he could pounce on me. He's tricky that way. Mom says he's just being a cat but I say he's being annoying. 

Really, Mom. I'd rather have a puppy to play with. What do you say? Can I have a brother? 

*_*_*_*

Note from Mom: NO!

My yard is my playground

I have a big yard to play in. Mom took a video so I can show you everything. It was a really, really, really hot day, so we didn't play ball or anything. We just strolled around.

Mom started standing at the patio and looking at the shed. Then she panned to the back yard and the picnic table and campfire ring. Do you hear the cicadas? They are loud! The windchimes are softer except when the wind blows hard. 

Dad built those terraces to help when it rains. Living on the side of a mountain is tricky business when the water run-off comes through. It has to rain pretty hard before that happens - maybe once a year. Those two windows are the office windows. I spend a lot of time in there when Mom's working. It's my job to keep her company. 

The woods at the west end of the house are called, "The West 40." It's not really forty acres but my parents call it that. They get strange notions sometimes. We burn out there which is why we keep our fires small and a water hose handy. My woods go all the way down over the hill, but I don't go down there. I don't like briars because they can hurt my paws.  

Walking on around, there are the flowers at Mom's sunporch. It's outside her office. The orange stuff is called Tiger Lily and the red is Bee Balm. The little hummingbirds like that stuff. Right now, there's the top of a tall tree on the ground. Half of it broke out about two months ago, and now the rest of it fell to the ground. Dad's going to pick it up with the pallet forks and move it over to be burned later in the year. 

So you can see I have a big playground. I love to sniff around and see who's been in my yard. The main road is far away and I don't have to be scared of cars or be on a leash when we go outside. Even though it's safe, I almost never go outside by myself. 

Mom videoed all the way around and back to the shed. So that's it! That's MY yard. I'm really happy I have room to run around and be a country dog. And it's good we have room to be the pack, and being the pack is everything. 

Why is it a DOGwood?

Mom and Dad and me live way out in the country (yeah, Loki is here, too). It's a great place to be a dog! I don't need to be on a leash and I can pee wherever I feel like. Well, not on Mom's car tires, but just about anywhere else. I know how lucky I am to have so much freedom. A lot of dogs can't run free. 

Mom and  Dad both walk with me a couple of times a day. Mom would like to go on one long walk, but she knows my leg can't take that much stress all at once. I have a torn cruciate, you know. It doesn't bother me unless I run too much or run too hard. Mom and Dad make me behave. Anyway, we go for several shorter walks a day and my leg is fine.

I remind Mom to stop and enjoy life. One of the things she really likes is the wild dogwood tree that grows on the bank. It is pretty right now, but I don't get it. DOGwood? I don't see any other dogs. Lots of white flowers, sure. But dogs? Nope. 

I was curious so I asked Mom to look it up on that computer she has. Her computer knows all sorts of stuff. I know because she reads the articles to me. I do my best to look interested - and I am. All sorts of words I know are in those articles. They don't make a lot of sense, but I know it for sure when I hear "dog," "good," "food," and a bunch of other words. 

So Mom looked it up and it turns out there doesn't seem to be a definitive reason the dogwood tree is called a dogwood tree. One possibility is that it may have been a Celtic word, "dag," or "dagga," and become "dog" over the years. That's like a lot of human stuff that just doesn't make sense to lil' ol' me.

That's okay. I'm Deuce and Mom says I'm a good dog just the way I am. Even if I don't have anything to do with a tree. 

Except to pee on it. 

They're going again...

This is getting old. Mom and Dad are bolting out of here again today. I thought I was going to get to go along. They keep saying "truck." It's truck this and truck that. Am I going for a ride?

NOOOOOOOOOO. 

They did this to me before. They left in my very first truck, a really nice and roomy silver truck, and came home with a big blue monster that shows every little hair I shed. Dad sighs when I shed in his truck, but I can't help it. Shed happens, you know. 

I've got the scoop on it. I listened really close to what Mom was saying. They want to get rid of the little red truck that belonged to Jack and bring home another truck. I never ride in that one. It's way too small for me to get in the back. Dad even took the seats out and I didn't have enough room. 

This will be Mom's truck but Dad will be allowed to drive it. And of course, I will be allowed to ride in it. This is a good thing! 

I hope they won't be gone too long. I'm Deuce, and I'm a good dog, but the last time took hours and hours and I really had to pee-pee by the time they got back. 

Hurry up, guys! Get it done so I can ride in a new Colorado!

Thirty Days of Deuce - Day 16 - When Mom Gets Home

The best part of the day, Tuesday through Friday, is when Mom gets home. I think I like that time almost as much as I like dinnertime. It's hard to decide. But I digress...

Me and Dad can hear Mom's car coming. Well, I can hear it. Dad doesn't always because of the television, or he's napping, but I have good ears. And lungs. I bark to let Dad know she's on the way. He usually lets me out the door so I can run out to greet her. 

It's the same almost every day. Mom opens the car door and I stick my head inside. I'd jump in but the steering wheel is in my way. That makes me sad because I like Mom's car. It's fun to ride in but she doesn't let me inside her car very often.

Anyway, today Mom surprised me by snapping a picture. She said she was going to tell the world how I block her exit. I thought she was kidding, but here we are. 

Get over it, Mom. I'm not going to stop doing it. Why don't you open the passenger door for me, huh? Then I could jump in the car with you. 

What? 

My paws are not dirty!!

Al least, not very dirty.......

It's really a thing

It snowed a little bit again this morning, and I discovered Mom's obsession with snow is really a thing. Out the door we went and she took her phone so she could take pictures. Yeah, taking pictures of lil' ol' me is a real thing, too. (I don't mind.)

Just like the other day, there wasn't a lot of snow. The lane was clear so Mom could take her car to work. She says her car is worthless in the snow and when we have a lot of snow, she takes my pickup. I mean, DAD'S pickup. It has 4-wheel drive. Mom's car has a rear-wheel drive. 

I'm Deuce. I'm a dog. I don't know what that all means, but Mom does so I'm good with it. 

I keep an eye on Mom when we're outside. I don't know why she'd want to take pictures of a woodpile, but that's Mom. She said she liked the shapes with the snow on them. I was going to show her what I thought they were good for, but Mom said "no yellow snow" in her pictures. 

The snow didn't last long. By the time Dad and I went outside for our first walk, it was gone. It'll come again soon. Mom and Dad put the snowblower on the John Deere 1023, so I know it will snow bunches sooner or later. 

I guess when that happens, Mom will take more pictures, and I need to make sure they're all of me. 

Guarding my stuff

I have a lot of stuff and I like to know exactly where it is at all times. Dad fusses about my belongings being all over the floor in his way, but Mom never says anything so it's ok for me to have my toys out where I can see 'em. 

What if that skanky Loki tries to play with my ball? I NEED to know so I can stop him! Mom doesn't like that too much but Loki is smart enough to hop along on his way if I make a move toward him. Sometimes he does things on purpose to get a rise out of me. I know what's he's doing so I play along. 

Anyway, Mom's home today and we were on the loveseat together while she had a cup of tea. I was trying to decide if I wanted to pick a toy and coax her into playing with me but that seemed like a lot of work. When she got up, she used Dad's phone and took a picture of me guarding my toys. She thought it was funny the way I got them all in a line. 

Sometimes Mom is easily amused. 

And she let him back in the door

I like it when Mom laughs, so I do things so she will. Sometimes, I don't even know I've done something funny. Like this morning. 

I needed to go outside to do...you know... and when Mom opened the door, Loki ran right outside, lickety-split! I'll say one thing about that skanky cat, and that is that he is fast on his little white feet. Anyway, Mom called him to go back inside and he ignored her - so she closed the door. 

That did it. Loki got all scared. He's a wimpy creature. I was out in the yard but I heard Mom laugh. Then she got her phone and took some pictures that weren't of me. (I talked to her about that. I AM HER FAVORITE SUBJECT, not that skanky cat.)

When Mom opened the door for me, Loki ran inside and stopped. Then he swatted at me like it was my fault he'd gone outside in the cold. 

Stupid cat. 



Editor's note: Mom struck through the word "skanky."