Good Memories of Great Dogs

All good dogs go to heaven, of this I am sure.  There are no bad dogs, only bad owners.  Last night my twin brother called me to tell me the news that his Toby had passed.  While my brother was out, his partner had taken Toby out to his favorite spot in the back yard for a little fresh air. Upon his return he asked if Toby was still outside to which he was told, “Yes, and he is really sleeping.”  My brother went to check on him and called him with no response, so he went and tried to rouse him from his slumber.  Toby had passed quietly in his sleep, his little body still warm to the touch.

Toby was a rescue dog with a past that most could guess must not have been the most pleasant of canine lives.  Just a look at his almost hairless and scarred body made ones imagination run wild.

Toby arrives at his new forever home

                               

He was a frightened little dog on the run that was lucky enough to be caught and handed over to the Corgi rescue.  They estimated his age as close as possible but in his condition it was just a guess.  My brother would send regular updates on his condition and it wasn’t long before Toby had put on weight and his coat had thickened and grown back, hiding all but the large jagged scar running under his left eye.  When we did manage to go for a visit down south we were met by a very well adjusted little butterball.  My brother had purchased a second Corgi, Tyler as well.

Little Tyler meets Toby for the first time

 “The Boys” as they were referred to had the best of everything.  That was all quite a few years ago and last month they lost the younger Tyler to cancer.  Toby was estimated to be twelve to fourteen when he passed.   He still wore his scar under his eye and his back legs had become paralyzed some time ago but he was the happiest little Pembroke Corgi.  And I’ll bet he was more than happy to run to his brother Tyler waiting for him on the other side of the Rainbow Bridge.  God bless Toby and God bless Tyler.

Toby and Tyler
"The Boys"

Happy Valentines Day

" Its not about what you could buy me it is all about what we do and say each and every day".  That is what you my lovely wife said when I made a fuss about not being able to buy a gift.  Yes I know things are a bit tight this month with some unexpected expenses.  And then there was that annoying little warning light on the car, oh I totally agree it should be dealt with immediately.  I could see the frustration in your eyes and  love you for not saying much when I told you about the $200.00  pump that went out on the Koi pond, and we both know that can't wait. $$$$$$$$$$ bah!

Well I went out and got you some flowers......



...........Winter Honeysuckle that I planted in 2007



I also got you some of those hand selected chocolates........

.......from the candy bag in the pantry

I got you a card.......

........its this post but my heart is still yours and always will be.

Happy Valentine's Day My Dear Love

Three Dog House

In years past I have always grumbled at the prospect of family get togethers that included the four footed members as well.  Our Miss Betty (Pembroke Corgi) is soooo polite and sweet that if she were a working girl her sheep would just follow her without a bark or nip at the heels.  Then there is our little Sophie aka "The Little Nazi" (Wire haired Mini Dachshund) also very sweet, she just has a big mouth.  Our youngest son and family include Ninja (Chihuahua) or "The Princess" who quickly becomes the alpha dog at the Manor.  Then there is Popeye (Boston Terrier), which was when the grumbling began.  I love my oldest son dearly, but when it comes to animals he has not a clue.  His idea of house training was to put in a pet door and let the dog figure it out himself....yeah.  Leash training included a good strong harness so he could pull my 30 something son faster on his skateboard.  All basic commands such as come, sit or stay all translate to one thing in Popeye's brain......grab the closest thing in his slobbery mouth and act completely crazy whilst taking great leaps into the air and as close to the humans face in order to see if they are enjoying the moment as much as him.

 So when Popeye came over he was forced to stay in the sunroom by himself because he was so excited by the presence of so many people and other dogs that it was like the results of feeding pure sugar to an ADD child on the loose at Disneyland.  He would soon have the other dogs snapping at him or one of the "Little Terrorists" crying because he jumped on them in his excitement.  After it was all over it usually meant a double cocktail night for MeMa and myself as we sat and collected ourselves.  But the world changes all the time doesn't it?  Nothing ever stays the same and that would include my disdain for the excitable Popeye, the dog from hell!  My son moving back home was a big enough life changing event for all concerned but then one day I opened my eyes and became conscious of some snorting and farting noises which turned out to be Popeye.  In this dream MeMa was assuring me that he was just a very misunderstood dog, that he was really a good little boy and that I really should be happy that he was going to stay.......that's right.....stay!  Damn it wasn't a dream!  In the first ten minutes that he was there he lifted his leg on a wicker chair in the Sunroom which I silently cleaned up because as all good dog trainers know if you don't catch them in the act it does no good to punish the animal.  In the next ten minutes I walked into the kitchen to see Popeye lift his leg on the leg of the butcher block table.....enter the Dog Whisperer....I pounced on him like a mountain lion would his pray.  Grabbing him by the neck pulling him down to within inches of his puddle I quietly explained to him that if he was to behave in this manor from this point on he would be spending his remaining days known as "that dog chained up under the chicken house"!  A good deal of time has gone by since that day, a bargain had been struck between a certain Boston Terrier and the Dog Whisperer.  No more conversations whilst inches away from ones own urine and no threat of cohabiting with MeMas Ladies.  He really has turned into quite the little gentleman.

Good night Popeye!

Unwelcome Visitor

Winter weather is starting to act like the real thing here,  but then we will get a little dash of spring- like weather just to confuse things.  I have the gardens here at the Manor pretty much set for winter.  All the roses trimmed down to knee high to prevent winter wind damage, fruit trees cleaned up and sprayed, the now vacant parakeet aviary cleaned out, garden shed in order, firewood stacked and covered.  Out in the hen house MeMa's ladies have stopped laying for the winter and I dusted them and the nest boxes for bird lice.  So other than a little light maintenance and picking up after the dogs I just sit back and wait for spring....Yeah right!  You may remember the post I did about the mystery hole and tunnel from the garden into the greenhouse, well that turned out to be a very large disgusting rat.  I caught it in a box trap a few days after that post and quickly and humanly dispatched it as we can't have things like that running around the gardens with the "Little Terrorists" at large.  I spoke to the manager of the nursery behind us and he said that they would bait all their out buildings where they store fertilizer and such which is a food source.  Since that first one I have caught nineteen others so something needs to happen soon.  I don't mind the occasional field mouse but large rats are enough to make one get the heavy artillery out.  They love the warm interior of the greenhouse but cause a lot of damage whilst they scamper about knocking orchids off the staging and turning things over looking for something good to eat.  I keep all possible food sources in plastic bins sealed with tight lids, so they are a bit out of luck there.
I promise I wont show pictures of the fallen enemy but here are a couple of orchids fresh from the greenhouse.

Cattaleya "Tangerin Imp"

Vanda "Murphy's Gold"

Merry Christmas

Usually when I am away from the blogging world I at least stay up on all the happenings in all of your lives but this time I just was gone plain and simple. So I apologize for that and hope that this post will explain.

Christmas at Menagerie Manor started out a bit sad for MeMa and myself as we are dealing with our eldest son and his wife being separated and the confusion that is causing for our grandson Brooklyn "Little Terrorist #2".  Separation and divorce is never a good thing when there are children involved. MeMa and I try to make home life at Menagerie Manor as solid and unchanging as possible for him, all the while tying not to interfere in the way that our son is dealing with things.  But it is hard many times not to comment or give opinions when we see Brooklyn acting out in frustration over the simplest situations.  Enough said on that matter!

At around midnight Christmas Eve this old man was attempting to put a leg into his pajamas when the phone rang,  MeMa yelled that it was our youngest son Ian. I  quickly tossed my pajamas and grabbed my trousers running while putting them back on.  Ian and our daughter-in-law were headed to the hospital as the contractions were very close together. We actually got to the hospital before them by about fifteen minutes and when they pulled into emergency I was waiting at the door with a wheel chair for the expectant mother. T hey had pre-registered on-line (amazing) so we were whisked on through and in a wink Jill was made as comfortable as possible in a very large, well outfitted birthing room.  The staff were so nice and being early Christmas morning they were all excited at the prospect of the first Christmas baby being born at their hospital.  Lucy Ann Chambers "Little Terrorist #3" was born a little after four in the morning on Christmas Day.

MeMa is a bit old fashioned so I spent my time in the waiting room with Jill's mother as she does not deal well with such things as blood.  Along with Daddy and Jill's older sister Kelly, MeMa was by Jill's side during the birth and she was the one to cut the umbilical cord and washed Lucy's hair before Daddy gave her a sponge bath as she wriggled and squirmed.  They then swaddled her and gave her to Mommy to be nursed and made comfortable.
So I would like to remind myself once again of what has become my credo and is actually quoted in the "About Me" to the side of my posts.......


"Life is too short to wake up with regrets.

So love the people who treat you right.
Forget about the one's who don't.
Believe everything happens for a reason.
If you get a chance, take it.
If it changes your life, let it.
Nobody said life would be easy, they just promised it would most likely be worth it. "

A very Merry Christmas to you all