A Little Tail

It is never too late to go back to school, and I’ve decided to become a veterinarian for stuffed animals. I was inspired after a few incidents this past week. My beloved Pooh Bear’s nose split open. I didn’t want to attach a bandage to his skin because he is at that age when his skin is very fragile and any unnecessary pull on it might cause it to come off. So I made him a nose splint. I took three Bandaids, unwrapping each one and sticking them together in a large ring shape. I put that over his nose. He immediately felt much better. The other incident had to do with my dog Tony. I noticed someone or something had taken a huge bite out of his cheek. Ouch. I made him a cheek splint. I used a special material I had created in an art class. It stuck to his face, but just to make sure I tied it with a blue ribbon. He looks and feels much better. We both remembered a few years ago when he had major surgery. I thought I’d post that tale for my last blog of 2016:


My dog, Tony, needed surgery. His tail was broken. It flopped over, spilling red foam on the carpet. I wrapped him in clothes and nestled him in my knapsack, airlifting him from the East Coast to the West.

I was so excited to have him here that we immediately went for a walk in the great outdoors. I made a joke, and he laughed his head off.


I rushed him to the emergency room. After surgery to reattach his head and to heal his tail, he was ready to come home. The surgeon placed him in a cardboard box filled with tissue paper. I did a bed transfer and put him in a basket.

He wanted to go out for a stroll, but I said he needed to rest.

A week later, his wish came true. We trotted all around the neighborhood. Then I took him on the bus. When I paid my fare, I held up his basket and told the driver, “This is my service dog.” The driver said, “That is the best service dog I have ever seen.”

At the next stop, a black lab seeing-eye dog stepped into the aisle. He and Tony made eye contact and started networking about their professions.

After running our errand, we got back on the bus. When I told the new driver that Tony was my service dog, she said sternly, “Only if it stays under control.”

We got off and headed home. Just then, Tony spotted three dogs. We went over to say hello. One was a gray, furry, curly-haired mix, another was a Pyrenees lab concoction, and the third was a collie. She came right over and nuzzled Tony’s nose back and forth.

Despite surgery, Tony wasn’t lagging. His little tail was wagging.


Happy Birthday Party

I hope everyone had a good Fourth of July.

We celebrated our dear friend Fuente’s tenth birthday. My partner in crime and I took him hiking. He enjoyed climbing a tree. Later, we took him to a natural foods store to get cake. He chose a vegan, wheat-free, chocolate cake slice. He allowed us to have some, which I thought was generous.

Toward the end of the party, he lamented about growing older. I couldn’t help but think of this quote from Pippi Longstocking: “Time flies and one begins to grow old. This autumn I’ll be ten and then I’ll have seen my best days.”

Happy Birthday, Fuente and many happy returns!





Dog Day Afternoon ~ Myth or Reality?

I hope everyone had a good Valentine’s Day!

My beloved dog, Schnoodel, turned seven. We celebrated her birthday with an off leash romp and party at the park.

Before the party, we visited the market and eyed the pastry selection, made by the store’s in house European bakery. Since it was Schnoodel’s special day, I asked what she would like for a treat.

Without a moment’s paws, she replied, “Woof woof, bow wow wow, bark bark,” which in Bichon translated into “A slice of Princess Torte, please.”

After playing catch for what seemed like hours, it was time to focus on more serious matters: eating.

Schnoodel sat on the picnic table between me and my boyfriend. She listened appreciatively to our “happy birthday to you” duet.

She watched as I unwrapped her cake. Of course, I gave her first dibs. She nibbled at the pink marzipan and licked the layer of cream, but then she refused the rest.

She said she was stuffed already.



Flush With Funds

I lost something dear to me and found it behind the toilet this morning. How it got there remains a mystery, but it reminded me of the time my ATM card vanished.


My ATM card disappeared.

I put on my Detective Cap, which resembles my Thinking Cap in size and color, and got to work on the investigation. I had last seen my card on top of my orange pant leg on my bed, so I looked on my pant leg first. No card. I lifted the pant leg and peered at my bedspread. The monkeys and hippos peered back. Moving my pajamas to the floor didn’t help, nor did lifting my bedspread reveal anything, so I removed sleeping bags #1 and 2. When that hadn’t uncovered my card, my pillows jumped off my bed, followed by my pillowcases, and all my stuffed animals. They looked innocent, even the wolf who acts as my accountant (he’ll remain anonymous to protect his identity). I stripped off my sheets and pulled my bed from the wall. I found seashells, rocks, even an elephant on a key chain.

Where could my ATM card be? I checked my pockets and turned up nothing.

I called my bank to cancel my card and order a replacement. I told the customer service person I was embarrassed I had lost my card in my apartment. He said, “Don’t worry about it. I do that kind of thing all the time.”

After we hung up, I had to go to the bathroom. I got up from the toilet and then, glancing down, I noticed my ATM card floating in the water.

How it got there remains a mystery.

But I now can better appreciate the expression, “flush with funds.”