We Remember

Today in the midst of our cookouts, parties and enjoyment of a day off from work, we take a moment to say "thank you" to those who have served our country.  Whether it's in the armed forces, the national guard, the police or fire departments, those who work to serve us are too important to be forgotten.  To everyone who helps to keep us safe, we thank you for your commitment and want you to know that your service is appreciated!

Ice Cream Trucks And Summer Afternoons

Earlier this week, I saw something I haven't seen in quite some time.  It was a real ice cream truck.  Those are hard to come by here anymore.  As I watched it, my mind went back to the memory I will always associate with ice cream trucks.

When I was a little girl, I lived on a farm, but I often spent time with my grandparents.  It was my home away from home.  After my parents divorced, we moved into a duplex just a few blocks away from my grandparents' house.  It was a dream come true for me.  I was incredibly close to them, and my parents' divorce was really an ugly ordeal.  I came out of it rather shell-shocked and in need of time with them. 

My grandpa had been a self-professed dog hater all his life.  However, he finally decided to get a dog of his own after meeting a Shetland Sheepdog that he really liked.  He'd been so charmed by the dog that he began searching for one right away.  I'd gone with them to look at the puppy and he rode home on my lap from the breeder's house just a year before.  Cavett was quite a little character and my grandpa spoiled the dog royally.  He was so spoilt that my grandpa would go to the grocery store deli and buy him roast beef, then sit on the step in the kitchen and tear it into little pieces for him, hand feeding them to him one by one. 

Every day on the way home from school, my sister and I stopped by their house.  Our mom was usually working and so she wouldn't know if we got home right away anyway.  We loved stopping to play with Cavett and talk to my grandparents.  One thing was always certain during the warm months at their house.  There was always a box of ice cream sandwiches in their freezer.  We were always allowed to have one unless it was the last one.  If it was the last one, it had to be saved because Cavett got an ice cream sandwich every afternoon. 

As it happened, my grandparents lived in an old-fashioned neighborhood.  They knew all their neighbors and were on good terms with everyone.  It was like a place from a movie that's almost too good to be true. 

Of course, one afternoon, it happened that they ran out of ice cream sandwiches.  For some reason, they hadn't been to the store, or hadn't realized the last one had disappeared from the box.  Whatever the case, it was still a fact that Cavett was in danger of missing his afternoon treat.  Sure enough, the ice cream truck went by that afternoon.  My grandpa stopped it and bought an ice cream sandwich for Cavett and whatever frosty treat my sister and I requested and life was good again. 

The next day, the ice cream truck came by again like clockwork.  However, there was something different on this day.  As the music of the truck chimed past the house, Cavett ran out, sat down and howled as if his heart were broken.  He learned that quickly that the ice cream truck jingle meant ice cream sandwiches and he thought it was time.  Of course, the freezer had been restocked with plenty of ice cream sandwiches by then and there was no need to buy one from the truck.  It didn't matter to Cavett.  He howled long and loud, getting fully in touch with his inner wolf.  Just as he finished his mournful serenade, the truck came back by and he had to start all over again. 

For the rest of the time my grandparents lived there, Cavett went through the same routine, howling his heart out until the music faded away.  They tried to make sure they had him in the house when it would go by, but it didn't always happen.  He did always howl whenever he heard that sound, though, for the rest of his life.  To this day, I can't hear or see an ice cream truck and not remember that remarkable little dog!

We're participating in the blog hop again this weekend! Feel free to join iin the fun!

Well, Phooey On Roanoke Days!

Bunny here, with a short post about Roanoke Days.

I was all excited when Mom got home.  All day I'd been listening to the sounds of the festival getting ready in front of our house.  I knew we were going for our walk and I'd get to see all the excitement.  It's been a bit hot, so Mom said we'd wait until Dad got home and then walk through when the weather started to cool off a little.

After dinner, Mom grabbed my harness and we headed out.  As soon as we started to walk, people started to want to pet me and  talk to me.  It was glorious.  I was thinking how great this festival is right outside my front door.

Then, as we walked along, a police officer came up and said dogs weren't allowed.  What?  Dogs have been there every year, and it's my house!  Mom said it's ridiculous and she's going to find somebody to discuss it with.  Hmph!  If I could have, I'd have pooped right there on the street and left it.  I mean, we have to put up with their stupid stage lights glaring through our windows all night from Wednesday until Sunday, people block our house so we can barely get in and out, we can't drive on our street to get anywhere, people traipse through our yard like it's public property and drop thier trash all over.  They'll want to sit in front of our house to watch the parade, too.  If they think I'm staying in my house on parade day, they've got another thing coming.  Not too many things make me mad, but this is one of them.  Who needs their stupid festival anyway?!

Wanted: Decent Belly Scratcher

Bunny here, still writing this week since Mom has been sick and busy with those weeds.

I tell you all, this festival is starting to cramp my style!  My walks have been practically non-existant since Mom's been sick and using her energy this week to battle the weeds out in the garden into submission.  She says that she's done all she can do for now before the festival gets under way, so I'm hoping that means she'll have the energy to walk me up through the festival tonight.  That American Idol show also was more important than my walk, although Mom said she needed to rest.  I don't see why it took two hours for them to say that Simon was great and announce the winner.  Mom said it was rigged and I hope that means she's done with it all.  A puppy has needs, you know!

To top it off, Dad took the afternoon off yesterday and finished fixing up the sidewalk and hauled away the pile of weeds that had been pulled.  Then he got home late with our food.  I was still happy to see him get home, though and I wagged my little tail when he got in the door.

Finally, as we were all sitting in the living room watching the latest American Idol debacle, I asked for only one thing.  I just wanted Dad to rub my belly.  Would he do that, though?  Noooooooooo!  He just kept teasing me.  One little belly rub and then he'd quit.  That is just not acceptable!  I'm going to have to put my paw down on this one.  If I can't have decent belly rubs, I just may have to pack up my collars, coats and stuffies and hit the road.  A puppy can only take so much!

Oh, I hear Mom finishing her yogurt!  I guess I'll stay for a while longer.  Hopefully there will be a walk through the festival tonight!

One more thing, we decided to try out another blog hop.  Feel free to join in!

Wordless Wednesday 5/26 -- How Much Room Does A Greyhound Need?

How Does Your Garden Grow

Bunny here again, with my little update on the garden snoopervision.

Mom and Dad work on the garden a lot this time of year because this week Roanoke Days is coming up.  It's our annual village festival, and a lot of it takes place right out in front of our house.  Saturday will find most of our family here, sitting in the front yard to watch the parade go by and having a cookout.  The stage where they do most of the singing will be set up right out in front of our house.  Lots of people walk by, so Mom likes the garden to look especially nice this time of year.

A lot of the time when they've been outside working, I've been snoopervising from inside, but I always make Mom take me outside afterwards to see what has been changed and improved on.  I thought I'd give you a small look at some of the flowers so far.

Mom says I should mention that some of these pictures were taken before weeding was done in certain areas.  We're working hard on beating those weeds.  I have really enjoyed having time to stop and smell the flowers!

A Minute To Miss Maxdog

We were saddened to learn that Maxdog had left his family today for a better place.  While we will certainly miss him and his unfailing grace, we know that the heartache must be much greater for his family.  I spent a lot of time today trying to think of adequate words to share to be a comfort to his family, but I felt myself coming up blank.  Words just aren't enough to capture the wonderful spirit that was Max.  He shared his grace with all of us and showed us that miracles do happen.  So, I'll just share a poem and say "thank you" to Max and his mom for all they've shared with us and taught us.  Our hearts go out to you!

A Minute To Miss You

I wish we had another minute

What I’d give for one more hour

Our time together was sweet

But it ended much too fast

I sit above your lovely bones

And stare at your epitaph

But I know you aren’t really here

Your spirit left behind this ash

An empty stone can hold your name

But it doesn’t hold your heart

Your soul soared to a better place

And left me here to mourn your loss

We used to be so comfortable

Sitting where we could just be

I never had to say a word

You knew what was inside of me

Now I wonder if I should have said

Things that echoed in my heart

Did you know the things that I felt

And the home you made for me

Sometimes I hear you in the wind

Or see your smile form in a cloud

But I wish I felt your presence here
Instead of an aching wound

I know the place to keep you

Is deep inside my heart

Where you first carved in your name

And left an eternal mark

Sometimes it’s easy to forget

To seek you where it matters most

For we will always be a pair

Even though we’re now apart

Heatwave

Bunny here, with my weekend update.

Mom and Dad spent a lot of time Friday and Saturday doing things that quite frankly, didn't have much to do with me.  Friday Dad took Mom to Chicago for her birthday trip.  Saturday they were busy pouring concrete to fix the sidewalk from where it got torn up to fix that broken pipe last Fall.  After that, they were busy weeding and planting flowers and vegetables.  I was lucky to get a little time to go out an snoopervise the planting!

So, on Sunday, I had high hopes that there would finally be some me time.  As it turns out, the heatwave hit on Sunday and it was really hot.  I settled in for a lazy Sunday, figuring I was going to have to just be happy to have time at home with my people.

Imagine my surprise when Mom got up and went outside for a few minutes and Dad soon followed.  She came back inside and got a different collar for me and Dad got out the long leash.  I was curious about what was going on.  We went outside and there was the pool all ready for me to hop in!

At first, I had to taste test the water.  That part is very important.  Then, I had to check and make sure that it was the right temperature with a toe check.  After that, I finally got in and enjoyed it some more.  Of course, when it's over, you need to make sure you get properly dried off!

The fun just kept going, too!  Blueberry and Lilac came out, but neither of them enjoy it like I do.  Plus, it was pretty hot.  After we got tired of the pool, we went inside and enjoyed a nice naked afternoon nap with no collars on.  Finally, at the end of the day, we enjoyed Frosty Paws!  Sunday turned out to be a pretty good day after all!

I Can't Believe My Luck

Since my birthday was last Sunday, Mr. Taleteller was nice enough to take me to Chicago for the day yesterday. It was a lot of fun, even though we didn't get to take the girls. We ate at Weber Grill, did some shopping and went to the top of the Willis Building, which is the recently renamed Sears Tower. We took Flat Nigel along with us, but it wasn't the same as having the girls with us.

I was afraid that when we got back, rather late, that not only would there be a mess to clean up, but that I would get a serious case of the cold shoulder.  To my surprise, we did not come home to a mess and Bunny was thrilled beyond words to see me.  She leaned against me for a long time and then curled up on the couch with me.  There's really nothing like coming home!

I count myself lucky every time I come through the door.  Not only do I still have a job that I mostly enjoy doing, I have the best things in the world to come home to.  While I'm very thankful to Mr. Taleteller for taking me on the trip, I'm also grateful to the girls for making it wonderful to come home!

We were recently awarded the Versatile Blogger Award by Bud and Ginger and Dexter and Nora.  The rules of the award state that we must thank those who gave it to us, so thanks Bud, Ginger, Dexter and Nora!  It also says that we need to tell seven things about ourselves and then list seven others to receive the award.  Since Bunny's answers to these things are always better than mine, I'm letting her take over from here.

Bunny here with my list of seven things about me!

1.  I like sleeping in in the morning, the later the better!  I will get up if I have to, but don't count on me to be the alarm clock.  That's Lilac's job!

2.  I can't resist kids, especially little girls.  They are just the right height to pet me and they never seem to get tired of it.  Plus, they always fuss over me a lot while they're petting me.

3.  I love to run at the dog park.  Mom even says I show off a little sometimes when we go there.   But I don't run much in the house unless I get a really bad case of cabin fever.

4.  I like to pretend I'm going to sleep in Blueberry's bed at night when Dad calls us to bed.  It drives Dad and Blueberry crazy!  Blue insists on having her spot and Dad likes Blue to be happy.  I hold out for a little while and then I hop up on the bed with Mom and Dad.

5.  I once caught a baby robin in my mouth, but I let it go.  Mom yelled "Drop it" three times, and I did it every time until it got up on the fence and landed outside the pen.

6.  I enjoy sharing the big dog bed with Lilac when she'll let me.  Sometimes she will share it with me, and sometimes she gets up and leaves when I lay beside her.  I try to be careful with her and let her have what she wants.

7.  Nothing makes me happier than all of us going on an adventure for the day together.  I know Lilac doesn't like riding in the van so much, but I like it when she goes with us and we get to sniff around at the dog park and all spend time together.

Now, we'd like to pass this along to some other bloggers.  If you don't like to participate in awards, that's okay.  There's no pressure.  It's all in fun!  We're also supposed to tell them that they got an award.  I tried to remember who I'd seen get this award already, but I'm sure I missed some somewhere.  We're sorry if you already got it!

1.  Being Ladybug
2.  Who's Driving?
3.  Mygreatdaneisinlovewithme
4.  Greyt Days
5.  The Adventures of Cloud the Wonder Dog
6.  Dennis' Diary of Destruction
7.  Multum In Parvo... With A Cinnabon Tail

Whew!  That was a lot of thinking!  I think I'm going to need a nap after all that.  Hopefully you'll have fun visiting them if you haven't already!

And yes, we're participating in the blog hop this weekend.  It's been a lot of fun and we've seen some great new blogs because of it!  We're glad they decided to start this.

Greyhound Sighting

I'm going to tell you all a secret about greyhound people.  If you have a greyhound, I'm betting that you will laugh or nod your head at this post.  If you don't have a greyhound, this will be a revelation of one of the things that many point to as proof that owning a greyhound is pretty much the same thing as joining a cult.  I remember laughing about all those Saturn owners years ago who actually drove to Tennessee to see where their cars were made.  Then I was owned by a greyhound and I really couldn't mock those people anymore, because we have our own shade of unusual.

Most of the people who own a greyhound don't know a lot of other people in their area who own a greyhound, unless they happen to live in a really populated area.  So, when you do see another one, you get all shades of excited.  You see, greyhounds are slightly snobbish.  I attribute it to the fact that they were once only good enough for royalty.  Whatever it is, most greyhounds are quite fine with other dogs, but when they are around other greyhounds, they really turn on.  They are used to being in the company of other greyhounds and nothing else until they retire.  What they must think when the get their first view of a Labrador, Chihuahua or Siberian Husky is beyond me.  I do know that all of our greyhounds have had a deep fixation with our good friends' German Shepard.  They'll spend countless minutes just inhaling his fur.  I suspect they might have hair envy, but I'm glad they're a short-coated breed.  So is my Dyson.  In any event, it's great fun for greyhound owners to meet other greyhound owners and it's often a rare occurance.

This leads to my revelation.  Greyhound owners are stalkers.  If we are driving down the road and spot another person walking other greyhounds, you are in much more danger than if we've just left Happy Hour and are texting while driving.  It often results in quickly applied brakes while we try to figure out how to get across four lanes of traffic to stop the person and ask about their dogs.  Greyhound owners will always talk about their dogs, trust me on this.  Nobody is a stranger when you find out they also own a grey.

Such was my position the other night on the way home from work.  I've been really sick this week, and so was moving a bit slow on the way home.  I stopped to do a bit of necessary shopping and grab dinner since Mr. Taleteller had to go to a meeting Tuesday night.  I was sluggishly making my way home later than usual.  That's when I saw them, a pair of greyhounds being walked by a man.  I was past the lane where I could stop to turn and go back to ask about the brindle and black hounds.  I looked around.  There wasn't a good place to turn around and get back, and I figured that by the time I could go back, they'd be long gone.  I've really been wanting to meet some other greyhounds locally that the girls could play with.  I was so disappointed that I'd missed them.

So, I did what any good greyhound person would do.  I found a reason to go by late again the next night.  No sign of them, but maybe someday I'll prevail.  I'm sure there are twelve step programs for us greyhound nuts, but nobody wants the cure!

Barking Mad

It seems that Lilac has a new nemesis in our house.  Both Mr. Taleteller and I have both had separate incidents of walking in and hearing Lilac giving someone a firm barking to.  The recipient of her wrath happens to be an innocent (as far as my husband and I can tell) dog bed. 

When I arrived home Monday night, I took the girls out as usual.  After a few minutes of privacy for them, I went out to bring them in.  In typical fashion, Lilac and Bunny had clean feet, but Blueberry was wearing mud galoshes.  So, I sent Bunny and mama dog in the house and Blueberry and I walked around the house to have a look at the new flowers.  It wasn't a long stroll, just down to the front corner where we have some Japanese irises planted by the stop sign and back to the door.  As we walked up, I could hear Lilac barking her displeasure from the back door.  I entered the house and found her barking at the dog bed.

As I told Mr. Taleteller the story, he laughed and shared a similar tale.  He said that when he gets home for lunch every day, there are three noses sticking up in the back kitchen window.  By the time he comes in the back door, Lilac is in the living room, barking at the bed.

I have no idea what the bed has done to make her so angry.  It doesn't appear to have any evil lumps or rolls in it.  It's easy to fluff.  They have nicely annointed it with a pleasant Ode de Greyhound, so it's not stinky.  The poor thing just lays there, taking her abuse.  I'm really at a loss as to what to do.  I don't want the poor bed to suffer some kind of complex.  This is something I never thought I'd have to worry about as a dog owner.  My greyhound is a bed terrorist!

Wordless Wednesday 5/19 -- Synchronized Strolling