Tag Archives: Zoe

Puppy Antics

Puppy Antics

With her instinct for mischief, my puppy is remarkable.
Every falling leaf to her is an occasion barkable.
Her sister and her brother and sometimes even me
are all her dupes as any looker-on can clearly see.

She steals her brother’s food and he just lets her be,
his look displaying an expression of futility.
She steals Yolanda’s dusting rags to stage a tug-of-war,
then drags her mop when she’s not looking, clear across the floor.

She must reconnoiter each bare ankle that walks by.
First she licks it wet , but if you wait, she’ll lick it dry.
Then she’ll tug your pants cuff or masticate your shoe,
investigating with her tongue each tasty part of you.

She’s ripped to shreds four pairs of pants, my duvet and my tote,
my tarahumara basket, a two-hundred peso note,
the corners of two cabinets and my poetic papers.
No exposed object’s sacrosanct from her destructive capers.

But when I lock her in her pen for moments of reflection,
she greets her isolation with such whines of pure dejection,
It’s lucky for my puppy that she is so gol-darn cute
that each threatened sentence I’ve chosen to commute.

Prompt words today are mischief, remarkable, futility, dupe, instinct and dry.

Bad puppy videos below. Unfortunately, Youtube will try to take you off in a different direction after each one so you’ll need to come back to this post to see each of the others.



More bad puppy videos:


Bad Holiday Attitudes

I unfortunately didn’t take photos of most of the Christmas ornament devastation described in the below poem, except for the one unfortunate angel found in the yard today, so I will make do with  more of today’s latest.  The pieces of the cushion shown , now collected, were spread over the entire lawn and patio. My day’s exercise was collecting them all and stuffing them back into their cushion, then throwing it away. Luckily the garbage had not been collected so I unstuffed a bit for photo purposes. She also chewed the ties off most of the chair cushions in the garden and the corner off the cushion for the lounge chair.The bedroom duvet is my newest. This is a very recent thing, destroying bedding. Trying to decide what to do. To be fair to Coco, I think most of this devastation is created by Zoe. Pasiano says it is because she’s the smallest and trying to prove her moxie. In that case, she has succeeded.

Bad Holiday Attitudes

My energetic puppies are meddlesome at best.
They seek to alter their milieu with destructive zest.
They create a fizzy ambience on patio and lawn
by spreading lawn chair cushion stuffing all hither and yon.

They parade my Christmas banner throughout my lower yard,
sowing its bits and shreds between the onions and the chard.
No matter at what altitude we hang the decorations,

they seem able to reach them to appease their mastications.

They shred what ornaments they find on tabletop and trees.
climbing up and leaping at whatever they can seize.
A dismembered Santa Claus lies nestled in the hay
where once slept baby Jesus, who’s securely tucked away

beneath the new poinsettia, sadly unidentifiable.
His restoration is, I fear, now totally unviable.
So, unless my naughty canine friends speed up their maturations,
Next year I think that I’ll attempt way fewer decorations.

Prompt words today are fizzy, meddlesome, altitude, milieu, onion and banner.

This Year’s Additions

This Year’s Additions

They jockey for attention and steal the old dog’s ball.
When I try to calm them down, it does no good at all.
To get any quiet time, I have to lock them out.
Paths worn through the garden show where they’ve run about.

They commandeer my deck chairs in spite of my requests
that they should surrender them to my party guests.
They  make off with my underwear for a tug-of-war
so it has been three times now I’ve had to order more.

Puppies are enchanting when one first gains custody,
but they jump up on my lap each time I try to pee.
When I go to bed at night, exhausted from my day,
that’s the time they want to join me for frenetic play.

They walk across my laptop to burrow in my hair.
They are an energizer bunny sort of pair.
My sister says I’m crazy. Two puppies in one year?
But the first one was so tiny and the second was so dear.

Their delight in each other so delighted me
that I had to add them to our family tree.
Three dogs and two cats, it’s true, is probably too many.
The only thing that would be worse is if I hadn’t any!!!


Prompt words today are path, custody, enchanting, jockey and ball.

Zoe’s Choice: FOTD Dec 9, 2022


Click on photos to enlarge.

Bigger and brighter and more exotic flowers abound in the garden, but this is Zoe’s choice. Actually, she was starting to eat it when I caught her and she quickly shifted to pretending she was smelling it.

For Cee’s FOTD

The Chase: Last on the Card

For Brian’s Last on the Card prompt we are to share the last photo we took in the month.  I thought I was taking a video of Zoe and Coco rushing around the yard in a frenetic 10 minute chase, but alas, I took a photo instead. They are a bit of a blur, which they were for 10 minutes. Wish I’d captured it.

Doggie Drama

What are the chances that I would capture this action while I was exercising in the pool? But, I had noticed a large golden-orb weaver spider on my neighbor’s wall and although I knew it was too far away to get a good photo, I was listening to an Audible book and the phone was in reaching distance, so I thought I’d try. Coco and Zoe jogged over to check out my action and this is what resulted. Since i was holding the camera in my hands, I captured most of it, other than the recovery action which meant I had to set the camera down. Please click on photos to enlarge and read the story.



Breakfast Sandwich


Breakfast Sandwich

My puppies heed no boundaries. They flop down where they  will.
Coco crowds me, head on shoulder, in my bed until
I need my arm for writing and to gratify my need,
I nudge her very gently, but still, she does not heed

the necessity for space between us on the bed,
so promptly she moves closer to lie on my arm instead.
She appreciates its flavor as she licks it fondly, then,
extends her pastel tongue to lick it all again.

Then Zoe comes to join us from her place down by my hip,
and expresses her love likewise with a little lip.
Then her tongue extends as well so I am doubly tasted.
massaged with love’s caresses until I’m thoroughly basted.

At length, both fall asleep again, their energy depleted,
and our morning’s sandwich is finally completed.
I wedge myself out gently so our sandwiching is done,
extracting my meat from between  its canine bun.


Prompt words for today are boundary, gratify, flavor, likewise, pastel and promptly. It is almost impossible to get photos with one’s arms pinned to the side but this was as close as I could get. 

Small Comforts

If you read my post yesterday, you know that we lost Diego on Saturday. When I took him to the vet thinking he had a bad tooth, I discovered his lungs were actually riddled with cancer and we had to make the decision to save him from a more agonizing slow death over the next two weeks. Obviously, I was devastated and as I completed the shrine for my friend Gloria, who died a few weeks ago and my husband Bob and parents as well as my sister Betty and her husband Denis, Leah and Ryan completed side shrines for their own departed family and shrines.

On Sunday, we went to a talk about death and the importance of making our life all we wish it to be and approaching Dia de Muertos as a celebration of our lost loved ones rather than a mourning. We then went to lunch and as we left the restaurant, we decided to visit a small crafts fair we saw set up in a tent a short way away. As Leah and Ryan browsed the aisles, I was drawn to a booth of small rescue dogs available for adoption. I watched little boys playing with five small pit bull puppies and then saw a beautiful woman approach with a small chocolate brown dog almost the twin sister to Zoe. She explained that it, too, was a rescue dog she’d found abandoned on the streets of Guadalajara. Her name was Chocolate and she was presumed to be about a year old. When she was spade, they had discovered she was pregnant with three puppies, all too small for survival.

Wanting to show her to Ryan and Leah, I asked if I could take her for a walk, and the lady said yes. I thought I would say I’d found a new dog, jokingly, but of course the joke was on me as we all fell in love with her. It was all Ryan could do to keep Leah from adopting one of the tiny pit bull puppies. At any rate, with no idea at all of replacing Diego, the synchronicity of finding a dog named Chocolaté—the same name as the dog stolen from my yard nineteen years before—who needed a home just as Diego had eleven years before, created the decision to honor Diego’s leaving with the arrival of another in need of a home, and so we welcomed Chocolaté into our lives as a living memorial to Diego. R.I.P.. dear friend and companion.

This morning, Chocolate claims Zoe’s favorite spot, nuzzled into Mom’s neck and hair.

Small Comforts

On this particular Dia de los Muertos, death feels more personal, less a remembrance of past losses and more a dwelling with a recent one. The new little dog buries herself closer, her snout beneath my neck, nose snuggled into my hair. Her long pointed ear brushes my glasses frame.

Finally stilled from the excitement of a new sister who is nearly a reflected shadow of herself, Zoe sleeps in the long cavern between my knees and ankles so I am swaddled in small dogs. Not a recompense for the loss of my old friend Diego, but rather a slight adjustment of attention, a comfort of sorts, consolation like the hug of that stranger in the vet’s office yesterday morning, after we had sent Diego to his final sleep.

Not the same thing as Diego’s past gentle nuzzles for attention as I lay in the hammock, fitting in those moments of mutual attention before Zoe’s insertion of herself between us, demanding attention from us both. Here is no filling of an empty space, but rather the creation of a new one in my life. One not unaccompanied by problems, for although she shares Diego’s calm exterior, she also shares Zoe’s propensity for mischief. Minutes after we arrived home from the craft fair where I found her attached to the leash of the Guadalajara vet who had rescued her from the street and harbored her as she looked for a new home for her, I found her on top of the the altar, eating the dead bread in front of my friend Gloria’s picture, ignoring the dog bones in front of Diego’s. The papel picado on the front of the altar had been shredded by her ascent, the pot of marigolds turned on its side. 

Just that morning, Zoe had stood to snatch the bread from in front of the side altar Ryan had constructed for his grandmother and friend. Peas in a pod, these two chiweenies, one blonde, one the color of chocolate, like her name, pronounced Chahcōlah’tay, in the Spanish manner. 

Now as I lie in bed, this new intruder whistles into my ear with each breath, huffing as though it is an effort, or like blowing out birthday candles, puff by puff. It is a trial joining. If it doesn’t work out, I have the kind doctor’s phone number who promises to drive back from Guadalajara to reclaim her. She breathes wheezingly into my ear, as though one time for each second of her short life. 

I recall Diego’s gentled breathing there on the floor of the vet’s office. All of us coming down to her comfortable level as we administered that last relief, her lungs filled with a foreshadowing of an otherwise more painful death. So it is myself I cry for as the tears slide out again––an indulgence I can’t seem to stop. The new small dog adjusts her ear away as my sideways tears drip onto it. She nuzzles closer, and Zoe digs herself deeper. Small comforts in an inevitable world.



While looking for my favorite photo of Diego, which I still haven’t found, I came upon this laudatory poem written in his honor a few years ago, so it seemed fitting to publish it again. Here is a link: https://judydykstrabrown.com/2020/05/08/hail-diego/

Zoe, My Teenage Terror


This brilliant article was sent to me by my friend Laurie. You may not be able to read it unless you subscribe to the NY Times, but if you can read it and have been reading about my puppy Zoe’s recent behavior, you’ll see it describes her to a “T.” 

I had more naughty photos, but WP thought it was appropriate to erase my entire blog after a half hour’s work collecting the photos, so I had to start all over again. Is anyone else having problems like this? I was updating and saving… then all vanished.