Tag Archives: stories about bad dogs

Traviesa

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Traviesa

My dog just ate my wood carving and that is why I need to vent.
Although I have looked everywhere, I can’t find its equivalent.
Sometimes she’s angelic, but at other times a pest.
I’ll leave it up to you which version I like best.

When she’s hushed and loving I fear that I’m forgetful
of all the other times when she’s mischievous and fitful.
I get up and go over to give her a fond pet,
but when I do I step upon a spot that’s slick and wet

and realize that once again she’s had a little pee
in a spot here in the living room she knows that I can’t see
when seated at my writing desk. My back to where she’s been,
I cannot be a witness to her most recent sin.

I know her name is Zoe, but too often I forget
the name that has been given to my most recent pet.
So I call her “Traviesa,” which pops into memory
for  “naughty girl” is what she is most frequently.

 

Prompts today are wet, fitful, angelic, equivalent, quotation, wood carving and hush.

 

Overdue

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Screen Shot 2019-04-24 at 10.23.47 AM

Overdue

My Auntie tends to use me for
those sorts of tasks she must abhor.
Thus was it yesterday that she
sent me to the library.

Just the name of the last book
she’d borrowed was all I took.
This is the message I relayed:
“This book return will be delayed.

I finished it in record time,
and yes, I found the book sublime,
but then I fear it made a hit
with another who’s not through with it.

He found my Inside Daisy Clover
and found the need to chew it over.
I know that it’s a red hot seller.
All the reviews find it stellar.

I know that countless folks have read it,
the borrower’s sheet in front has said it.
In fact, I find the cover worn,
the binding weak, the pages torn.

And so I’d like to buy a new
copy to return to you.
So, just renew the book once more
’til I can get out to the store.

My family member must finish it,
but I fear he’ll diminish it
until it is unheedable.
Already, it’s barely readable.!

The library was most compliant,
and once again, my aunt reliant
on my finding a new book
to replace the one our puppy took!

 

Bad Morrie. Yes, he did pull the drawer out of the dresser all on his own.
and ate the door handles
and two boxes of crayons.
He even knows how to open dresser drawers to get at more of them.

The poem is fiction, but the photos depict a true story of when Morrie was a new puppy  a couple of years ago.

The prompt words today are book, extra, renew and delayed. Here are the links:
https://ragtagcommunity.wordpress.com/2019/04/24/rdp-wednesday-book/
FOWC with Fandango — Extra
https://onedailyprompt.wordpress.com/2019/04/24/your-daily-word-prompt-renew-april-24-2019/
https://wordofthedaychallenge.wordpress.com/2019/04/24/delayed/

My Past Four Days : Adventures with Sciatica

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This is a record of my past four days, as recorded via Skype messages to Forgottenman.  I have removed most of his messages to me to protect his privacy. If you skim though the gripes, there are some high points of unbelievable occurrences toward the end that will make it worth your while plowing through this, perhaps:

4:40 PM  Thursday
Woke up with such pains in my back.  Got in the boiling hot hot tub and that helped.  Had to go to town to run errands, but now I can finally lie down. Perhaps I should go into the hot tub again, but I’m so tired I have to lie down first. Man, I’m a mess, boy!!!

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9:08 PM
Fell asleep and just woke up 1/2 hour ago. Fed the kids who were all having a fit, did dishes and back in bed with a hot pack heated in the microwave.

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11:58 PM
Woke up in such pain that I got in hot tub for long time to try to help my back.. then in pool for another long time, cleaning algae and throwing balls for Morrie.. then put icy hot on back and got in bed. Seems to get worse when I lie down.

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12:22 AM Friday
Gotta go take an Advil.. I’ve been taking them all day,  Just took a tiny bit of cannabis oil to try to help with this back pain…hot water helped. Icy Hot helped,  but only for 15 minutes or so and then it comes back. Damn.  May have to go to a dr.  So sick of drs.  Feel like a hypochondriac. I’m wondering if a hospital bed would help somehow.

1:54 AM
I’m trying sitting up with four pillows and my bolster under my knees.  Took some more cannabis oil.  I have Oxycontin but don’t want to take it. Took one Advil. Will try another in fifteen minutes if it doesn’t help. Perhaps should try the Icy Hot again.  It helped for a short while.  Wish I could find my damn Tens machine.  It was in my purse but can’t find where I put it.  Complain complain, but this is driving me nuts.

3:50 AM
Only thing that relieves my back pain is standing up and I can’t stand up all night.  The cannabis has had no effect. Nor has the Icy Hot or Advil. Guess I just need to try to go to sleep.

Forgottenman: 3:50 AM
Maybe a shot of rum?

3:52 AM
I think it would need more than a shot. Just gonna try to go to sleep..talk atcha later today.. can’t say tomorrow.

Forgottenman: 3:52 AM
Maybe try sleeping on the couch with your feet pressed up against the foot of the couch? Kinda like standing?

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Took his advice and tried sleeping on the couch with a heating pad on my back and feet pushing against the end of the couch..to no avail.

Forgottenman: 12:21 PM Saturday
How is your back today?

12:23 PM
Still bad.  I didn’t fall asleep until 5 or 6 this morning.  Better when sitting up but I can’t find the right chair.  I’m using a heating pad and just took a Paracetamol pain pill.  Water too hot to get in the hot tub.  When Yolanda leaves I’ll see if I can get water hot enough for a shower. I slept until 11, which was good.  It hurts the most when lying down.. a problem when you are so sleepy you can barely sit up. I tried to make an appt. with a chiropractor but his office was closed today and of course Sunday and the friend who called for me said he’s out of town and his assistant has no appointments available Monday. Poor poor Pearl.

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1:05 PM
I think this pill is helping.

9:12 PM
Did my exercises in the pool.  Water hot but not scalding. Hot tub too hot to soak though, Might be okay by tomorrow. When I put Icy Hot on after being in hot water it does get very very hot.  Must be because my pores are open.  When Pepe uses it for massage, it doesn’t get hot at all.  Early to bed tonight as I didn’t sleep all last night.

9:22 PM
I’m wondering if I should take another pain pill or leave well enough alone.Trying to drink lots of water to get the toxins out of my system stirred up by that deep massage Wed. that I think set off this attack. It felt wonderful right afterwards but by Thurs. my lower back and left leg were excruciating and have been most of the time since. 

11:08 PM
Have a ten o’clock breakfast appt. with a friend tomorrow.  Groan.  Better set my alarm and get to sleep.

11:14 PM
I took a pill a while ago. Doesn’t seem to have kicked in, though.

2:29 PM
Got up at 4 or five and went into hot tub which was scalding but seemed to help my back, which was excruciating.  Put Icy Hot on it which really heated up but 15 minutes later my back was as sore as before.  Took a pain pill and iced down my back IMG_0308which seemed to work much better than the heating pad and hot water had..Was good enough to meet Sandy for breakfast at 10 and by 12 was still pretty good.  Had a birthday party to go to tonight, but I fell asleep twice on the road driving home from my breakfast with Sandy. I guess it was the pain pills.  Both times I woke up as I went off onto the bike trail or shoulder.  Thank goodness no one was on it, but scared me to death.. So I’m cancelling out on Michael’s surprise 75th party and staying home so long as I have to take these pills. 

11:28 PM
Dogs are making a ruckus down below the studio.. don’t know over what. They were banging around running over the ladder and other equipment stored there.  I didn’t hear any cat yowling so hopefully not a cat.

1:30 AM Sunday
Oh man. Just woke up and my back is killing me.

2:00 AM
Can’t remember when I last took a pill, but just took a Paracetamol at 2 am..writing it down so I”ll remember. I think I can take 4 a day. This means i can take another at 10 tomorrow morning. I also have a Tens patch on it. I have Oxycontin but scared to take it. Trying to drink lots of water to wash the toxins out that might have been released by the massage..and using the old tennis ball technique, pressing it into the sore spots.

3:42 AM
DAMN!!!! After using Tens and ice on my back, I got a bad cramp in my leg that I couldn’t get rid of, so went out to soak in hot tub.  Finally it started lightning and it wasn’t helping my leg so I got out of hot tub, collected my towel and nightgown and then in the dark saw what looked like another wet towel on the ground.  I picked it up and it was a soaking wet dead possum!!!  Can it get any worse???? I guess I know now what the fuss was the dogs were raising down below the studio earlier tonight.

Forgottenman: 3:43 AM
Oh, I hope you are going to write about this! Such rich blog posts!!!

3:44 AM
I knew you’d say that.

Forgottenman: 3:44 AM
Photos!!!

3:44 AM
No photos. No blog!!! Now putting ice back on my back and leg again. 

 

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Obviously, I changed my mind about the no photos, no blog decision. This is Diego looking innocent this morning re/ last night’s nefarious activities.

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The evidence of his guilt, still lying by the pool waiting for Pasiano to deal with the disposal of remains tomorrow. Definitely not a wet towel. Poor little thing.

 

3:47 AM
I’m in for another long night.May have to call doctor tomorrow to come give me a shot or something. I can’t stand another two days of this. OK that’s my last message.  Go to bed, sweetie.. I’ll bitch atcha tomorrow..

4:23 AM
Ok.. won’t send this until tomorrow so it won’t wake you up, but….Act three?  I was lying on the ice bag which of course melted, soaking the towel around it, my nightgown and the sheets.  I was so tired, I just pulled the towel, the bag full of water and my nightgown off, wrapped them into a ball and tossed it off the bed.  It hit the bedside table, knocking the glass full of water to the floor where it shattered into a hundred shards..all over floor, under the bed, under the table..over my shoes..and of course I had to clean it up because otherwise I’ll forget and get up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom barefoot and shred my feet.  F….!!!!!  So a half hour later, I hope all the glass is up and once again I am in bed, aching back.. but not getting up again for anything!!!!!IMG_0312IMG_0288

11:09 AM Sunday
Oops.. didn’t mean to send that last message last night, lest you hear the ping of the Skype from your bed and come back out to living room to see the message… Sorry, Forgottenman. Automatic response.  Hope you didn’t get up to see this. Still hurting this morning.. Have tried exercises, hot packs, cold packs, sitting up, lying down.  Everything hurts. Tried to eat and burned four batches of toast and gave up. This is the pits.IMG_0302IMG_0303

I think it is sciatica.. have looked up all the internet instructions on it.  It says not to stay in bed longer than 24 hours, but it hurts too much to move or sit up or stand up. I’m a mess.  Considering taking the Oxycontin left over from my foot operation a few years ago.  Aren’t I a downer?

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In the meantime, I have watched over 40 episodes of “Comedians in Cars Getting Coffee” over the past 4 days while trying to distract myself and/or lull myself to sleep!! That is a lot of riding around in cars, so I think it qualifies me for Fandango and Ragtag’s prompts. And Daily Addictions can certainly not blame me for any lack of alertness–especially on my own attempts to venture out on the road.  From now on, I’m staying put!

The Suspect

33 Replies

Who, Me????

The Suspect

I suspect you are the guilty one. The evidence is clear,
and as a further indication, you’re acting rather queer.
Those pork chops just left in the pan a short while ago
are nowhere to be seen now, though I’ve looked both high and low.
I don’t know where the bones have gone, but I have a suspicion
that when you last entered the house, those chops were your ambition!
I left the room for minutes and came back, much perturbed,
to find the skillet empty, albeit undisturbed,
still centered on the burner with not even one chop.
So now I fear my dinner guests are going to have to stop
to pick us up a pizza as they drive here from town,
for when I left the pork chops on the stove top to get brown,
SOMEONE helped himself to them. Mind, I’m not pointing fingers,
but as you skulk out of the room, still, my suspicion lingers.
You are a likely felon, dear little doggie mine.
I think you’d have no chance in a doggie suspect line!

 

True story.  Six pork chops!!! Skillet still centered over the flame, not one inch out of alignment. Later on, a mysterious stash of pork chop bones found by the gardener in the lower garden behind the studio.

Fandango’s prompt today is suspect.

Heartsick

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The story of the four kittens abandoned on my doorstep 3 1/2 months ago continues. As you can see, they are barely kittens anymore, and once they’d had all their shots and been neutered and spayed, it was time to make their transition outside. I knew there were dangers, but 5 cats inside is just too much for me to handle anymore, let alone for housesitters allergic to cats to handle, so the day came when they were finally let out to the wide world as it existed within my compound walls.  I am hoping they won’t be tempted to go over the walls but know it is inevitable. A bigger worry is that they’ll venture into the backyard where Morrie and Diego are accustomed to dealing with animal interlopers in a predictable manner.  I’ve kept sliding glass doors open (screens and bars closed) hoping they’ll get used to each other, but the dogs are jealous, curious, and, well, they are dogs.  Here are the events as they have unwound over the past week, ending yesterday. All in all, a scary day.

(Click on the first photo to enlarge and read captions.)

Some of the things out there are curious about us, too.
Out? What is out?
That day came when suddenly all those doors to the front of the house formerly closed to us were opened.
We found all sorts of hidey holes in the front yard, including a llittle house purchased just for us to sleep in and an half-walled garage that, although there was a gate,
she couldn’t keep us out of, because there were also bougainvillea vines we could climb up for access to the garage.
All in all, it was fun finding places to make our own.
We knew the dangers of the backyard and never ventured there
the lush jungles of the front yard
And so is this.

Heartsick. When I went out to feed the kittens this morning, only two showed up. I put out the food, which usually brings them out, but Ollie and Kukla never appeared. I called out over and over, opened the garage door, looked outside, nothing. I was sobbing by the time I thought to pen the dogs up and look in the backyard. It was the worst sort of suspense thriller–the kind of movie I hate–as I combed every inch of the backyard, expecting to find their little bodies everywhere I looked. I had heard the dogs take after something last night and a loud screech, and I had brought the dogs in immediately, but the screech was not catlike and when I called out for kittens, no one answered. Now I regretted not looking closer last night.

I looked everywhere again. As I searched behind the studio, both dogs came around the back way as though they were helping me to look, but nothing. I wondered if the cats had gone hunting in the lots across the street because I was a half hour late in feeding them this morning, thanks to my spider poem. Finally, I went back to the house and let the dogs out, then once again combed the plants around the studio. Diego kept running behind a monster pot containing aloe vera on the terrace near my bedroom, and eventually Morrie joined him. Beside it were two other pots too large to move and they were all tangled up in the thunbergia vine that covered the wall, all of the tall plants around the studio and behind my bedroom, and also had grown up the telephone post and along the wires. I tried to pull the pots back but they were too heavy. I finally pulled one smaller palm pot out and searched behind all the pots. Nothing. But, I thought I detected a tiny squeak.

I put the dogs in again and went back and repeatedly called “Kitty, kitty, kitty.” Finally, Ollie jumped down out of the vine tangle and nonchalantly strolled across the patio, looking very closely for dogs. I called again and a few minutes later, Kukla joined us. I was so relieved!!! I carried them around the house as I’d exited through the doggie domain and was not about to carry them through the room occupied by Morrie and Diego. I put them in the front yard, closed both of the barrier gates, let the dogs out and put the two wayfarers into the house so I could feed them separately from their sisters, who had already eaten. When I went out to get a collar to put on Kukla, however, the other cats got in, so I put another dish of food out, got a collar on Roo and Kukla but not Ollie. Fifteen minutes later, Frannie is the only one who has kept hers on for two days. The rest of the collars are lost somewhere out in the cat jungle. Phew. Motherhood.

Sunset Story

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The Prompt: A Moment in Time–What was the last picture you took? Tell us the story behind it.

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Sunset Story

A year ago, friends from our old neighborhood in Boulder Creek, CA, had come to visit me.  I hadn’t seen them in the twenty or so years since they had decided to retire early, sell their house and take off to sail around the world in their boat.  They’d asked us several times to come visit them on the boat, but we’d put it off for too long.  By the time we, too, retired and bought a house in Mexico, thinking we’d meet up there, they had sailed on to more southern climes and then very quickly, Bob took the biggest journey of all and I ended up moving to Mexico alone.  Twelve years later, Lach and Becky had moved back to land, to her old home town in Washington.

When they emailed to say they’d like to come visit me, I was happy to renew the old bonds, happier still when they liked my new home town so much that they decided to buy a house in a nearby small town, and did—on that first visit.  They had returned to the U.S. to wrap up old business and now they had returned.  As they awaited the arrival of boxes of necessities, they were once again staying with me, newly arrived home after two months at the beach, where I’d watched 60 magnificent beach sunsets in a row—each uniquely beautiful.

But home sunsets had their own glory: the magnificent Mt. Garcia with Colima Volcano peeking over its side, the lake below reflecting the colors of the sunset, the domes of houses down below giving foreground interest.  As I glanced up from my dinner preparations, I knew this was yet another of a thousand unique sunsets I had previously captured.  I even knew where my camera was—a wonder after days of unpacking and putting away piles of the car full of home necessities I’d lugged with me to the beach.

I snapped dozens of pictures from three different levels of the terrace and garden. Then, spying the hammock in the gazebo on the lowest level, I decided to swing for awhile and watch the progress of the sunset.  Since my house is on a mountainside, I was still far above the lake with lots of sky to view as well.  As I neared the hammock, I saw Diego—my youngest and blackest and most mischievous dog—gnawing on something that sounded like a bone.

I tried to see what it was, but he moved off quickly.  I knew the crunch of bones, however, and was sure one of the friends who used my house while I was gone had supplied him with a bone which he had promptly buried.  Then I remembered that the dogs hadn’t been there while I was gone, but had stayed with a friend in his house.  But occasional uprooted flowers or succulents give testimony that my yard is in fact a graveyard for buried and un-resurrected bones.  Diego had probably just unearthed one he’d been dreaming of for the two months he’d been separated from it.

I had my swings in the hammock, a little shut-eye if not sleep, supervised the sunset, and then decided Lach and Becky would soon be back from a foray to their house, a few miles away in Chapala.  It was to be our farewell dinner tonight as they were moving to their own digs tomorrow.  I climbed the short pathway up to the house, noting as I approached it, that both the grillwork and screen  between the terrace and living room were open, even though I remembered very distinctly having shut them on my way out of the house.  I slid both shut behind me as I moved to the kitchen to finish dinner preparations.  Two pans of veggies stood in their steamers on top of the stove, mashed potatoes were covered and ready to heat up in the microwave, apple cake covered on the counter, six pork chops —(not) nestled in the skillet ready to be browned.

It became immediately clear what Diego had been munching down below.  As I snapped photos (including these) he had slid open the slider and deftly purloined six raw pork chops without even moving the skillet, which stood in exactly the same position on the stove where I had left it.  Bad dog!  I shouted off into empty space, as he probably lay on the dome of the house—both dogs’ favorite spot in the house—accessible by first a set of stairs that ran up the side of the house and then a small leap to to ledge around the dome and a fast scramble up its smooth sides.  I imagined him up there, licking his chops (literally, in two regards,) enjoying the sunset.

That night, we dined on chicken.
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