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Posts Tagged ‘Penny’

My name is Penny.

IMG_1230I have fur.  It’s just the way I am.

Today, the Leader took me outside.  That made me happy.  But then the Leader took out the brush.

I hate the brush.  The Leader uses it on my fur, and the fur comes off and flies through the air like snow.  It makes me sad to see that fur on the ground.  It was part of me, and now it’s gone.  And the brush is only used on me!  Kasey never gets the brush.  The old boring guy never gets the brush, either.

I know the Leader knows what she is doing.  I trust her.  I know she is using the brush because she thinks it is good for me.  I just don’t know why.

After the Leader was done brushing, we went for a walk.  It was a warm day, but suddenly I felt a nice breeze.

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My name is Penny.

During the day, when the Leader is gone, I look out the window so I can run to the door when the Leader gets back.  Sometimes, though, looking out the window makes me mad.

It happens when this cat comes into our yard.  Oh, I hate that cat!  It comes prancing into our yard like it owns the place.  Kasey and I bark and bark, but the cat keeps coming.  It will walk right up, look at me, and stretch out and show its claws.  I bark even louder when the cat does that, but I can’t get outside to chase it.

I bet that cat smells bad.  I bet it smells really bad.  Ha, ha!  Hey, cat, you stink!

Boy, I really hate that cat.

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When Animals Attack! featured footage of animals attacking humans.  Of course, animals can “attack” in different ways.

IMG_0907I doubt if Penny would intentionally attack anyone in the conventional sense.  That would be unseemly and require too much exertion.

Nevertheless, Penny still is a key component of our household defense system.  If an intruder invaded our hearth and home, he could easily be disabled by tripping over Penny’s snoring body stretched out on the kitchen floor.  As is the case with any natural predator, her brown coat blends seamlessly with the color of our wood flooring, making her an even greater hazard for the unwary housebreaker.

Or, the miscreant could pull a muscle or throw out his back trying to move Penny’s dead weight from her prone position.

Or, if the trespasser had any scrap of food on his person, Penny might inadvertently knock him down in her single-minded quest to fill her belly.

Some people have dogs that growl and bite.  We have a dog that sleeps.

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My name is Penny.

IMG_3645I am usually hungry.  When I am hungry, I look for food.  When I see something that looks like food, I take it.

Yesterday my hunting turned up a promising item.  It was brown, which is a good color for food.  My food in the morning and night is brown.  And it was in one of those shiny wrappers.  Usually those shiny wrappers are put on good food.  I’ve seen the old boring guy put this kind of thing in his mouth, too.  So when I saw it on the counter, so I grabbed it.

When I bit it though, it wasn’t good food.  It was dry and dusty and crumbled against my teeth.  It tasted bitter, too.  Yuck!  So even though I was hungry, I didn’t eat it.  That should tell you something about how bad it tasted.  That’s the last time I ever take the old boring guy’s recommendation!

When the old boring guy got home and saw the brown thing, he was mad.  I don’t know why.  I left it for him, didn’t I?

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IMG_3641When Kish and I got home this afternoon, I discovered a large, very plump rabbit sitting underneath one of the bushes around our patio.  It sat there, basking in the bright sunshine and munching on something, apparently unconcerned that it was out in the open and exposed.  It sat there for at least a half hour, shifting position from time to time, before it finally hopped away. 

The fact that Kasey and Penny weren’t home might help explain the rabbit’s curious behavior.

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Back Yard Bitches

IMG_3490It was a beautiful day in New Albany today — bright and sunny, with the temperature reaching the mid-70s.  The lure of the patio and the back yard was irresistible to me, and to Penny and Kasey as well.  They enjoyed the chance to gambol in the grass and squint into the brightness, and I liked sitting out on the patio, doing some work and feeling the breeze ruffle my hair.

It felt good to get out into the sunshine and expose that white, dry skin to the sunshine.  As for the questionable headline for this posting — well, I like alliteration, and technically the description is accurate.

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My name is Penny.

IMG_3433When I wake up in the morning, I am hungry and want to eat.  I mean, right away.  Why not?  I am hungry!

Usually, that is not a problem.  The old boring guy gets up early, feeds me and Kasey, and then takes us on a long, boring walk.  The boring walk with the old boring guy is the price we pay for a full belly.

Sometimes the old boring guy doesn’t get up early.  I’m not sure why.  On those days, I have to wake him up to get my food.  So, I use the flap.  The flap is when I twirl my head very fast.  When I do that, my ears flap against my head and make a slapping sound, and my collar jingles.  If one flap doesn’t work, I do it again.  And again.  And again.  Then Kasey will do the flap, too. No one can sleep for long when two dogs are doing the flap!

We’ll keep doing the flap until the old boring guy gets up and gives us our food.  Sorry, old boring guy!  Time to rise and shine, because we are hungry!

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Thursday night is, arguably, the best night of the week.  Sure, Friday is a work day, but on Thursday night the weekend looms dead ahead, and it’s time to begin the rigorous mental preparation to get into the right frame of mind.

IMG_3173For that reason, I often celebrate Thursday night with a glass or two of reasonably good red wine.  Tonight I’ve cracked open a 2011 Borsao Garnacha, to accompany some brie and blueberries.  I’d like to describe the Borsao as a delightfully presumptuous red . . . but I don’t know what it really means to say a wine as delightfully presumptuous, as the wine connoisseurs often do.  All I know is that the proprietor of the corner wine shop said that the Borsao is a good value at $8.99 a bottle, and I agree with his assessment.

I’ve got the Cowboy Junkies’ excellent The Trinity Session playing on the iPod.  This ultra mellow classic is perfectly suited to prepare the tired worker to slide into the weekend, with every song quiet and echoing and whispered, as if they all were recorded at 2 a.m. in a darkened and smoky studio.

Penny and Kasey have caught my mood and are stretched out, reveling in the moment.  We’ll enjoy tonight and we’ll enjoy tomorrow night even more, because Kish returns home after her brief Florida holiday.

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My lovely wife is out of town for a few days, down visiting a friend in Florida.  So, I’m back to being a bachelor temporarily, and “batching it” kind of sucks.

IMG_3166The house seems awfully big and empty and quiet without Kish here.  Her absence disrupts our settled rhythms and routines in countless ways.  When I get home from work at night, I find two very hungry and impatient dogs who normally would have eaten several hours earlier.  They demand to be fed immediately and walked so they can give their bladders and intestinal systems some relief.  Without someone to sit down and converse with, my dinner becomes a sporadic, nibbling affair that typically extends over the course of 90 minutes and involves the standing consumption of a cup of cereal as one of the “courses.”

I find myself puttering around at night, straightening up, so the house will look nice when Kish gets home.  When I finally sit down to watch some TV, Penny and Kasey sit and stare at me where they used to stare at her.  Even worse, I find myself talking to them from time to time.  (They don’t answer — yet.)  And I sleep poorly, without the gentle sound of Kish’s breathing to lull me into slumber.

Don’t get me wrong:  I want Kish to have fun, and I’m happy when she takes trips and visits her friends and spends some time in warmer climates.  She deserves it.  But I miss her when she’s gone, and I’ll be happy when she returns and once more warms the house with her presence.

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My name is Penny.

That’s my real name, bIMG_3161ut sometimes the other members of my pack call me “Lugnut.”  I’m not sure what means, but if the Leader says it and gives me a hug it must be a good name to have.

I think “Lugnut” must mean a dog just like me.  It must mean a dog who likes to slurp cool water from the water bowl when she’s thirsty.  A dog who likes to look out the window and bark when strangers walk by.  A dog who likes to snooze in the sunshine and snuggle next to the Leader whenever she can.  A dog who likes to explore the world outside and smell its interesting smells.  A dog who likes to eat and expects to be fed when she’s hungry.

“Lugnut” must mean a dog who takes her time and enjoys the finer things in life.  If that’s what “Lugnut” means, then I think it’s a good name for me.

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My name is Penny.

IMG_1922It was raining yesterday morning when the old boring guy took us for a walk.  I mean, really raining.  The kind of rain that soaks through your fur and bounces off the ground, too.  Kasey and I looked outside and didn’t want to go.  But the old boring guy tugged and tugged, and off we went.

Why would anyone want to walk in rain?  Why would anyone want to get all wet, and muddy, and cold?

I thought maybe the old boring guy didn’t notice it was raining, so I stopped cold.  That made the old boring guy notice, because he almost fell down.  He got mad and pulled me forward.  I walked a ways, then stopped again.  Ha, ha!  He can make me walk in rain, but I don’t have to like it.

Then Kasey got into the act.  While the old boring guy was bending over to pick up poop — why does he do that, anyway? — she ran behind him and tied him up.  He had to drop this thing he was carrying to keep the rain off.  He got all wet, and that made him even madder. At least he knew it was raining.

But even though the old boring guy knew it was raining, he made us keep walking.  When I finally got home, I was covered in water and mud.  It was no fun, and then the old boring guy had to clean me off — which also made him mad.

Hey, old boring guy!  Kasey and I think if you don’t want to get mad, you shouldn’t walk us in the rain!

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My name is Penny.

Yesterday I was bad, but I don’t care.

IMG_3018While the Leader was away, I found her boot.  I love that boot.  It smells like the Leader’s foot.  It has fur on the inside, and it’s chewy on the outside.  I’ve smelled it before, but I’ve never chewed it because the Leader takes it away.

This time, the Leader wasn’t there.  So, I sat down and began to chew.  When my tooth finally sank through the leathery outside into the fur, it was like heaven!  When I ripped a piece off the boot, it was even better.  I chewed and tugged, and chewed and tugged, and kept pulling off little pieces of boot.  They all smelled great, because they smelled like the Leader.  After a while, there was a pile of boot pieces.

Then, the Leader came home.  She saw what I did, and she acted mad.  Deep down, though, I know she wasn’t really mad.  She understood that I needed to chew that boot.  That’s why she’s such a great Leader.

I don’t care about the old boring guy’s shoes.

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Cold Dogs

IMG_3013Penny and Kasey like our morning walks on cold, snowy days.  At least, I think they do.  They romp in the snow and stick their noses deep into the tracks left behind by other dogs and dig through the snowbanks looking for buried treasure — the remnants of a sandwich, say, left behind by some youngster.  They pull in opposite directions and find countless objects that evidently are deserving of careful examination and some deep, snout-rattling sniffs.

But when we get back to our front door, with their coats and muzzles snow-dusted and icy, they seem awfully eager to get back inside.

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My name is Penny.

IMG_0575I like having Kasey around the house.  She keeps things interesting, and she keeps the old boring guy on his toes.  But, there’s something about her that is very embarrassing.  It’s almost too embarrassing to even talk about.

Kasey joined the pack only a while ago.  I’m not sure what kind of upbringing she had.  I don’t think she learned much about refinement or how to behave in polite canine society.  She’s probably a country dog, and she just isn’t very sophisticated.

When I first saw Kasey do it, I was shocked.  I hoped that she wouldn’t do it again, but then she did, again and again.  Then I hoped that no one would notice.  But the other day Young Master was taking us for a walk, and he saw Kasey do it.  He was disgusted, and I don’t blame him.

You see, Kasey eats . . . dog poop.

Can you imagine!  How embarrassing!  Every self-respecting dog knows you roll in poop, not eat it!  I guess I’m going to have to teach her some manners.

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My name is Penny.

IMG_2866Kasey likes the couch.  During the day, that’s where she’ll be.  At night, that’s where she’ll be.  That’s always where she is, except when she’s eating.

When the Leader is on the couch, too, Kasey gets territorial.  Of course!  Every member of the pack should understand that.  When you are in the pack, you want to be next to the Leader.

For some reason, the old boring guy doesn’t get this.  I’m not sure why.  He’s just a little bit slow, I guess.  But when the old boring guy comes up to Kasey and when she and the Leader are on the couch, Kasey bares her teeth and gives a low growl.  It’s just a little warning that the old boring guy should keep his distance.  Then, he finally gets the message and yanks his hand back like he is trying to avoid a snake bite.

I get a good laugh when that happens.  Hey, old boring guy!  Guess what?  You’re at the bottom of the pack.  There’s the Leader, there’s me and Kasey, there’s Young Master and the Wrestler, and then there’s . . . you.  Get used to it!

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