tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-88663060718641482202024-03-05T05:53:59.689-05:00The Levi and Cooper ChroniclesIn a perfect world, every dog would have a home and every home would have a dog.Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.comBlogger111125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-41591432781674504922023-11-10T07:45:00.000-05:002023-11-10T07:45:04.515-05:00A Quick Note!<p> A quick post to keep this blog from disappearing. I'm still blogging actively at: <a href="https://misadventuresofwidowhood.blogspot.com/">The Misadventures of Widowhood.</a></p>Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-88310951129207811742021-03-03T18:04:00.003-05:002021-03-03T18:04:55.288-05:00Rest in Peace<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg66MutnPoaf5y1yz1zGB8PBQJ3aVpkNpOoknwfgLf63IE9Bdh1MeY9WYsa71fSQCdKsekIIgOQmbi8J1lwvlL8uCCWcNCDvZozmLLl7XikCafXLqjdl7XRbblj87hS3sz5n251Qd-052d0/s2048/Levi%2527s+last+day.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg66MutnPoaf5y1yz1zGB8PBQJ3aVpkNpOoknwfgLf63IE9Bdh1MeY9WYsa71fSQCdKsekIIgOQmbi8J1lwvlL8uCCWcNCDvZozmLLl7XikCafXLqjdl7XRbblj87hS3sz5n251Qd-052d0/s320/Levi%2527s+last+day.jpg" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1/23/2008 to 3/3/2021</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p>Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-49106785374800939932017-06-13T14:14:00.001-04:002017-08-19T22:03:44.050-04:00Levi here!It's been a long time since my human let me near her computer to post. I just wanted to let let you know she and I are going fine. She put me on a diet, can you believe that and already I'm the best dieter in the house. I lost a whole pound in a month!. You can find her at <a href="http://misadventuresofwidowhood.blogspot.com/">Misadventures of widowhood blog</a>Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-49211083252439930842017-06-13T14:10:00.000-04:002017-06-13T14:10:30.233-04:00New Year's Commentary from the Bridge<br />
<br />
A bunch of us dogaroons up here at the Rainbow Bridge were lounging under the tennis ball trees discussing our humans and their habit of making New Years Resolutions. So I decided to peek down on my family and see what silly things Mom put on her list this year. Mom's a list kind of person so I knew she'd have one. Years ago she even made one of those "100 Things to do Before I Die" lists and recently she found it again. She'd actually done about half the things on her list and decided she should make a new list. The first thing she put down was: "Shorten this list to 25 things to do before I die. I'm old!"<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZU_P3b7TrU_Eyxxuv3tgZP9kpFdiB0j7oyXK0o3tv_psjUGVNps8nIBgeAMTO8QFZVFl2jXiRGuzHimtcTTZ1Jwksp5Vle-JBdCH5KiznkbhYLYyvfbhdreI9RGVhgHFABf-dj8fy28LJ/s1600-h/dog+belly+dancing.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287514273841741570" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZU_P3b7TrU_Eyxxuv3tgZP9kpFdiB0j7oyXK0o3tv_psjUGVNps8nIBgeAMTO8QFZVFl2jXiRGuzHimtcTTZ1Jwksp5Vle-JBdCH5KiznkbhYLYyvfbhdreI9RGVhgHFABf-dj8fy28LJ/s400/dog+belly+dancing.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 109px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 96px;" /></a><br />
I digress. For her New Year's Resolutions Mom had put down the customary loss weight and exercise things that seem to be required for humans to list. She had a few improve-your-personality type things as well, pretty standard stuff for Mom. Then she had one crazy, totally unobtainable thing listed. Even crazier than the time she vowed to learn how to belly dance. In 2009 she wants to---get this---learn how to do dog dancing with my baby brother, Levi!<br />
<br />
Mom thinks it will kill a flock of birds with one stone.1) It will give her some exercise, 2) it will give Levi some exercise, 3) it will create a stronger bond between Mom and Levi, and 4) it will entertain Dad with their practice sessions. What Mom left out of the equation is that fact that she's old and can hardly walk. Sure, she'd got one new knee but the other one won't even bend. It's shot and needs replacing, too. She can't walk fast or for long without pain, let alone run and if she tries to dance, she'll look like a character in a low budget Frankenstein movie. I love her but a hunchbacked old woman dragging a leg behind her doesn't exactly inspire my confidence in her ability to pull of dog dancing with Levi.<br />
<br />
Levi, the little trouper, is doing his part. Already he's learned how to bow, shake right and left, and do circles on command. He can also do the normal obedience things like sit, down, stand and heel. And get this. When I looked down on them today Mom was sitting in her rolling computer chair trying to get Levi to back up and come forward as she rolled to and from him. I think she's mixing wheelchair dancing up with dog dancing. I know she's watched those wheelchair dancing competitions but I'm not sure she has a clue what dog dancing is all about.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2HRdz0xZOCTIZXzUMe4_vpUg4jqRjCPiUym7Ci6JWshZGlxkVddbWbgcJfyJ3PyYtLs8SGUoBpIY-qnyPm_uQVDPeIGtiBeWLnnjXjep-hxTgTifsFrI96UtovItse0sAU99_iOMdvyPF/s1600-h/050715HGP_CanineDance_tn.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287514669170369762" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2HRdz0xZOCTIZXzUMe4_vpUg4jqRjCPiUym7Ci6JWshZGlxkVddbWbgcJfyJ3PyYtLs8SGUoBpIY-qnyPm_uQVDPeIGtiBeWLnnjXjep-hxTgTifsFrI96UtovItse0sAU99_iOMdvyPF/s400/050715HGP_CanineDance_tn.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 149px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 138px;" /></a><br />
I tried to talk to my older brother, Jason, up here the Bridge about Mom's craziest. He's a full-fledged angel-dog and a newbie trainer on top of that. But he says I can't interfere. I tried to tell him she's going to fall and break her neck but Jason is firm about the rules. No ifs, ands or buts about it I can't erase 'dog dancing' off Mom's New Year's Resolution list and her memory and replace it with 'knit everyone on the block a sweater.' It's a pain in the butt sometimes to have all this angel-power not be able to use it in so-called wasteful ways. How is it wasteful to make my mom act her age?<br />
<br />
Anyway, all of us canine up here are hopeful that our humans have good year, no matter what is on their lists. ©<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cJ9NqyChCA0">Wheelchair Dancing Competition</a> <br />
<br />
<a href="http://landofpuregold.com/ina.htm">Wheelchair and Dog Dancing</a> <br />
<br />
<a href="http://csf2008.elte.hu/social/lunchtime.html">Paragility Show and Dog Dancing</a> <br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TlKTYyjDwnI&eurl=http://www.caninefreestylemagicmatch.com/">Carolyn and Rookie, Famous Dog Dancing Team</a> <br />
<br />
<br />Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-15481704776208590322012-02-11T20:09:00.007-05:002012-02-29T10:41:41.911-05:00My Human Went to the Rainbow Bridge<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:worddocument> <w:view>Normal</w:View> <w:zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:compatibility> <w:breakwrappedtables/> <w:snaptogridincell/> <w:wraptextwithpunct/> <w:useasianbreakrules/> </w:Compatibility> <w:browserlevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif][if !mso]><object classid="clsid:38481807-CA0E-42D2-BF39-B33AF135CC4D" id="ieooui"></object> <style> st1\:*{behavior:url(#ieooui) } </style> <![endif][if gte mso 10]> <style> /* Style Definitions */ table.MsoNormalTable {mso-style-name:"Table Normal"; mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0; mso-tstyle-colband-size:0; mso-style-noshow:yes; mso-style-parent:""; mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt; mso-para-margin:0in; mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:10.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman";} </style> <![endif]--> <p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" class="MsoNormal">No one here probably remembers me, Levi the Schnauzer. I’ve grown up and haven’t been blogging. But something happened I want to share with the world because it hurts so much. My daady died! My human daady died and I’m so worried because he went to the Rainbow Bridge without his wheelchair. He needs that chair and Moomie just took it to a place called Goodwill. If they really have good will they’d bring it back and bawl my moomie out for leaving it there.<br /></p><p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" class="MsoNormal">God, the house is quiet! I miss how my daady and me had howling contests each morning until mean Moomie would tell us to knock it off. I miss sitting at Daady’s feet during breakfast, at the ready to round up stray Cheerios that might roll down my way. I miss giving Daady doggie kisses each night. And I miss the fact that every time my pawrents got ready to go some where Daady would campaign to let me ride along. The house is sooooooooooo quiet without him. Moomie doesn’t even turn the lights on in the living room anymore where Daady and I used watched TV.</p><p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" class="MsoNormal">I started sleeping on the foot of Daady’s side of the bed---something I never did before. At first I’d stay just until the lights went off. I kept thinking Moomie would tell me to get off. But she didn’t. Then it went to a couple of hours before I’d move some time during the night. Last night was the first night I spent the whole night, and not just at the foot end of the bed. When I woke up I was stretched out like I owned the place. I don’t know how that happened. I didn’t mean to do it but when Moomie woke up, she smiled at me. So I know she’s okay with me keeping Daady’s bed from getting lonely at night like I do.<br /></p><p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" class="MsoNormal"> </p> <p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" class="MsoNormal">Cooper and Jason, my older brothers, are at the Rainbow Bridge. I never got to meet them but I heard stories about them and I think they’ll take good care of Daady up there. At least I hope so. I hope they get him a new wheelchair. I still can’t believe Moomie gave his away! But then she’s been doing all kinds of dumb things since Daady died. Some times I’m afraid to let her walk out the door for fear she’ll get lost and won’t come home. ©</p><p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" class="MsoNormal">Moomie's widowhood blog is <a href="http://misadventuresofwidowhood.blogspot.com/">here. </a><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-9489302297043418392010-03-06T16:38:00.009-05:002010-03-07T09:23:24.979-05:00Levi the Daycare Worker<span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">You won’t believe where my moomie and daady took me yesterday! To a place called doggie daycare. They left me there with a total stranger in a fenced-in yard as big as the Colosseum and after they drove off the man let one dog at a time out of a kennel. Levi wasn’t sure what was going on. Me's felt like one of those Christians the Romans threw in with the lions. The first dog to come at me was a mouthy rat terrier, but me’s told him to back off and be nice. Then a brown and white spani</span><a style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP460FW3ILuAsaF4myMrfcsf-EFFe7nxFfsmF9ABgc3bp7k6buF7iyRczP46t6gik9G2GWACEzCrvMrFxWIhmxp_JPRYO5aoGJ64SLHTU2pQ0mYgfhTy8IBBOXTF9-o9mOE6uo1o89V5pi/s1600-h/Marytrs+in+colosseum+at+Rome.gif"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 226px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP460FW3ILuAsaF4myMrfcsf-EFFe7nxFfsmF9ABgc3bp7k6buF7iyRczP46t6gik9G2GWACEzCrvMrFxWIhmxp_JPRYO5aoGJ64SLHTU2pQ0mYgfhTy8IBBOXTF9-o9mOE6uo1o89V5pi/s320/Marytrs+in+colosseum+at+Rome.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5445639083375969634" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">el came out of the door and sniffed around my tail. Guess she didn’t like my schnauzer or boy essence. After that, the stuck up bitch went off by herself.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Next came a black lab with a friendly tail and great tale about the dog still in the kennel. He said Sadie was twenty-five thousand times bigger than me and she was going to eat me alive! Can you believe that? Me’s did when that Great Dane first rushed towards me. But it was love at first sight on her part. Levi thought she was going to lick me to death. </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"><br /><br />Enough already</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">, me told her. </span><span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Let's play!</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"> </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Sadie chased me and then me chased her. </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">By the time my pawrents came back Levi was exhausted.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Moomie told the daycare guy they’d bring me back when she and Daady wanted to go out for pizza again. Then she gave him money. Can you believe they charged money for me to play? Levi kept all those dogs busy the whole time instead of them having to be cooped up in the kennel. They should have paid me personal trainer wages! Me’s had them running through the drainage tile, around the trees, jumping on top of the bench, and playing keep away with a rope. Apparently if me goes there for under two hours, it costs $5.00. Over two to five hours it costs $10.00 and $15.00 if Levi’s stays all day. Next time me goes, Levi hopes Moomie brings a snack for the ride home. All that activity and they didn’t feed us even one kernel of food!<br /><br />.<br /></span><p></p> <p class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p>Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-53531430983217015102010-02-12T10:50:00.007-05:002010-02-12T23:11:17.475-05:00Voices in Her Head<span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Look what me's found in Moomie's diary today. Me's shouldn't be read it, Levi knows that but me is sharing this for a reason. Here is what she wrote:</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-style: italic;">"Sometimes I swear Levi, our dog, can telepathically talk inside my brain. This morning I woke up to someone calling my name and when my eyes opened all I saw was my husband sound asleep. I listened for the voice to call my name again but the house was silent. A dream, I thought, but it was so real---and so annoying because it’s a common way for me to wake up. I rolled over and there he was, smack-dab in my face, his little eyes peering over the top of the mattress. 'Finally!' Levi seemed to be saying, 'I need to pee.' The creepy part is the dog also seems to be able to tell time. It was </span><st1:time style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-style: italic;" minute="0" hour="9">nine o’clock</st1:time><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-style: italic;">. It’s always </span><st1:time style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-style: italic;" minute="0" hour="9">nine o’clock</st1:time><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102); font-style: italic;">---on the dot---when I wake up this way."</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Okay, Levi needs to know are all humans this dumb about talking without words, or is my human....ah, well, you know, a little slow? Duh, of course me was using telepathy to talk to Moomie. Me's didn't want to wake Daady up by barking. He needs his sleep. Me is worried. Is there a book she should read on training humans how to talk inside their heads?<br /><br />.<br /></span>Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-18549976927030543762010-02-08T23:25:00.006-05:002010-02-08T23:38:12.671-05:00Note From Naked Levi<span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">My moomie was happy today because she got to leave Daady and his wheelchair at home while she took me to the groomer, then she got to wait for me at grocery store while they threw me in soapy water before stealing Levi’s hair. Me’s don’t know why that should make her happy but me’s don’t think she was telling a fib.</span><br /><p></p><p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" class="MsoNormal">Before we left she made Daady a lunch and told him she was going on vacation from the men in the family. She also promised me some French fries from Wendys if me’s was good at the hair stealing place. Oh, they were good! At least she cared that we men in the family didn’t starve to death while she was gone.</p><p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" class="MsoNormal">Me is always good at the groomer but me’s not so sure that Daady was good at home alone because when Moomie came to pick me up he was sitting in the front seat of the car. Maybe Moo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUjNxl1bEyMjNZ3RWG1dAvsUGUFQ-daPUZvnu4QvJh9Ia-KOnoHcFdagsqof0QNkPxHiZTsOEiaZ3GQkPygvMstQR5vv-rJeRjAcq5pkBn4sgr6V80IWKA3x7PgH69pONSYwoDQL2kSJVY/s1600-h/giant-george.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 258px; height: 242px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUjNxl1bEyMjNZ3RWG1dAvsUGUFQ-daPUZvnu4QvJh9Ia-KOnoHcFdagsqof0QNkPxHiZTsOEiaZ3GQkPygvMstQR5vv-rJeRjAcq5pkBn4sgr6V80IWKA3x7PgH69pONSYwoDQL2kSJVY/s320/giant-george.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436095785189625426" border="0" /></a>mie missed him like she did Levi? Me’s don’t know what happened. It’s a mystery. All Levi knows for sure is that Daady was singing what Moomie calls non-sense songs on the way home and she told him, “Now I remember why I needed a vacation from you today.” Daady laughed and kept on singing.</p><p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" class="MsoNormal">We got to stop at the park on the way home where me’s scouted out some poop bigger than a house. Moomie said some horse-of-a-dog must have come by. Me’s don’t know what a horse-of-a-dog is but if Levi ever sees one me’s is running in the opposite direction. Could this be a picture of a horse-of-a-dog? ©</p><p style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-38839793830155671742010-02-06T17:35:00.012-05:002010-02-06T17:48:53.816-05:00Dog Goes Up Against Momma Squirrel!<span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">My human has been telling me since me was a little pup not to mess with squirrels. Today she got an email with proof of what she's been saying all along. But it seems to me if that darn baby squirrel had stayed in his nest where he belonged that poor black dog in the photos wouldn't have been abused by its mother like that! Darn squirrels!</span><br /><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVdoWj8Gi_CZWVsj9YC5PV6fSwqc1gkxfz_-TU1da1aLapeKHq_MLz9ohuxKn6JLr0khyJyU0DvVKCZWGDpcr28Z2voKlKlxJcXN7I5jMklAQA8yfzGw0hdk2Ejjpifhn05KNsOyC4ARaQ/s1600-h/dog+squirel+1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVdoWj8Gi_CZWVsj9YC5PV6fSwqc1gkxfz_-TU1da1aLapeKHq_MLz9ohuxKn6JLr0khyJyU0DvVKCZWGDpcr28Z2voKlKlxJcXN7I5jMklAQA8yfzGw0hdk2Ejjpifhn05KNsOyC4ARaQ/s400/dog+squirel+1.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435263787426780594" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaRk3Nn45sIZicbs-APlCHd5ZqGisl9WM7EwkDLMeuUTw51eWB9cEZfUToiHV-gkfMRvaFvGQl9-q1zjxl6-PD_5esa5CAGYl1YkWu9YHL7m7QBKpwcXgzP42t1gjJpYDtnD836e0kAY0S/s1600-h/dog+squirel+2.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 287px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaRk3Nn45sIZicbs-APlCHd5ZqGisl9WM7EwkDLMeuUTw51eWB9cEZfUToiHV-gkfMRvaFvGQl9-q1zjxl6-PD_5esa5CAGYl1YkWu9YHL7m7QBKpwcXgzP42t1gjJpYDtnD836e0kAY0S/s400/dog+squirel+2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435263683418068066" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYUnTmbjVOeFO29zYyKCYPMW4NwXmOqaISCHzKDPJ7pbUZFW4bs3JXl3pjdpDDUNUArSYdRzCCY1xdcQDPbRBtEm36FjcA8t38QaW5JyihFgWvMZJza1iE4WfTv9miqf9hXILUHk7l7nF_/s1600-h/dog+squirel+3.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYUnTmbjVOeFO29zYyKCYPMW4NwXmOqaISCHzKDPJ7pbUZFW4bs3JXl3pjdpDDUNUArSYdRzCCY1xdcQDPbRBtEm36FjcA8t38QaW5JyihFgWvMZJza1iE4WfTv9miqf9hXILUHk7l7nF_/s400/dog+squirel+3.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435263575583628642" border="0" /></a><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWB90GuyX6YvsqVTsNz7q5naefHIGcLnT-whWBYGgzZXmauuVaz2PNFHy_5QGWDy3Tt-n6xfbLtERu0CycBZmjOP1fNPc34Y79_m9P6kVPogik8fE05e2aQjvqQy57XJr_TyT8c04iDqFY/s1600-h/dog+squirel+4.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWB90GuyX6YvsqVTsNz7q5naefHIGcLnT-whWBYGgzZXmauuVaz2PNFHy_5QGWDy3Tt-n6xfbLtERu0CycBZmjOP1fNPc34Y79_m9P6kVPogik8fE05e2aQjvqQy57XJr_TyT8c04iDqFY/s400/dog+squirel+4.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5435263483071601538" border="0" /></a>Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-11857951109058257642010-02-02T16:44:00.008-05:002010-02-02T17:26:42.214-05:00Levi, The Rabbit Police Dog<span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Me was on bunny patrol again this morning because Levi knows how important it is to alert the neighborhood when one of those furry beasts hops through our yard. From the tracks in the snow, it looked like a giant rabbit came through last night. Most mornings me’s goes out and looks between the slats of the fence, trying to memorize where their tracks lead. Come summer time it will be valuable information for when Moomie takes me out of my fenced area and puts me on a 100 foot clothes line so me can run free---well, almost free. Those bunnies drop treats that me likes to eat and for some reason that upsets Moomie. What’s the problem? They lost them, me’s found them. Case closed. Is Levi supposed to leave them there to rot in the g</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">rass?</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Moomie is no fun! She doesn't let me go in the woods on the other side of the yard anymore after me’s supposedly brought her something called poison ivy. Levi doesn’t think me’s did that. Me’s don’t remember picking up anything but sticks, but you know humans, sometimes there’s no arguing with them. They ALWAYS think they know EVERYTHING!</span> <span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"><br /><br />One thing she does know about is </span><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqE6dian3tvFscov7tY8Rw9Fa75zXIum8zHel_3ZduImMp9p_Kf-VJL2Demwq24D6G4Szm6H7IvwJM6Nh7CfA5Q9G1q7Mgo4_SOAofqD-zpJO899Yr8Z1t8Xmq8734fTlXET2Ha7KwsJQp/s1600-h/rabbit+2.jpeg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 193px; height: 145px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqE6dian3tvFscov7tY8Rw9Fa75zXIum8zHel_3ZduImMp9p_Kf-VJL2Demwq24D6G4Szm6H7IvwJM6Nh7CfA5Q9G1q7Mgo4_SOAofqD-zpJO899Yr8Z1t8Xmq8734fTlXET2Ha7KwsJQp/s320/rabbit+2.jpeg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433772335719671634" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">the rabbit that is determined to drive me nuts. Moomie thinks Miss. Prissy is cute and she even took pictures of the creature as she nestled down under the pine tree just eight feet on the other side of my fence. No matter how much me barked at her that rabbit was too stupid to move! “Move it! Move it!” Levi would bark at her and she’d just point that stupid nose at me, wiggles those big ears and start grooming herself right there in the pine needles. This went on for a week before Moomie got out her can of pennies in an effort to make me quit barking at Miss. Prissy. Me’s toned my bark down to a whine but the penny can didn’t stop Miss. Prissy from coming back time after time. But all she EVER did was bathe and sleep. Bathe and sleep.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Moomie says next summer Miss. Prissy might bring us a litter of babies. She seems happy about that. Don’t human mommies know how hard that would be for a rabbit police dog, like me, to keep track of baby bunnies going every which way? Let Levi tell you, that Miss. Prissy is a sadistic bitch to make her summer home so close to my domain. If she comes back with babies next spring, it will drive me nuts and Moomie will be an accessory to that crime for making that stupid rabbit feel so welcome. Moomie should have opened the gate and let me run that rabbit until it expired from exhaustion!©</span><br />.<br /><p></p>Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-27427635687607143512010-01-24T21:34:00.008-05:002010-02-01T20:51:11.666-05:00Happy Birthday to Me!<span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Happy birthday to me</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Happy birthday to me</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Happpy birrrrthday dear Levi</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Me is two years old today and nobody cares. My friend was suppose to come over for a party but his pawrents got sick so they wouldn't let him come alone. My moomie didn't even give me a present and me's been SUCH a good boy! Me is all alone here at the computer and Levi thinking about running away from home.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Me hasn't written in my blog for a very looooonnnnng time. Moomie got a new knee in August and the hospital gave her an infection for free. But it made her sick for a very loooonnnnng time and she wouldn't let me type without supervision---like me even knows how to spell the bad words! Where does she get such silly ideas? Anyway, she's better now and promises me can start blogging again when she gets home. Don't anyone tell her Levi started without her.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Levi the schnauzer</span>Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-81970449524481489032009-08-27T14:29:00.006-04:002010-02-01T20:49:07.753-05:00Living With Old People<span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Well, finally, my moomie let me on the computer! It's been ages---longer than ages in a dog's life. She says Levi---that's me in case everyone has forgotten cute little schnauzer me---is a deprived young dog because me has to live with old people. It isn't fair, she says, that no one younger adopted me before my price was reduced to an old person's budget. It isn't fair, she says, that two weeks ago Moomie had to have her leg sawed apart and a new knee joint glued into place and that me had to stay home with Daady and a paid caregiver, Gary. Me really, really wanted to go to the hospiddle with her. Me could have protected her from the bad nurse who was mean to Moomie. Gary was nice to me but he didn't walk me even one time while she was gone. He didn't even take me out to the back yard to run on my 100 foot clothes line, and he didn't speak the same language as Levi. It took me almost four days to figure out that when he said, "Let's go potty" that he was really saying, "Outside, Levi." Humans who baby sit wheelchair bound daady's and schnauzers should learn our language! Even daady couldn't understand half the things Gary wanted him to do.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">The first day when Moomie came home from the hospiddle me tried to take that big bandage off her leg. Well, someone had to inspect the damage and see what smelled so strange underneath. After that Moomie kept that walker thing in front of her at all times and that really hurt me feelings. Me was only trying to help! Then at 8:30 me begged to go out to the back yard on my clothes line like we used to do every night, but she wouldn't take me. So, me pooped on the floor and that made Moomie feel so bad! But me was in no mood to use my fenced dog yard after all me went through with Gary. The next night at 8:30 me begged again, but again she wouldn't take me to the back yard. This time she cried and called my cousin Ted to come over for a play date. Ted's parents took me to the back yard. Oh, Levi was so happy. Moomie says to "hang in there" and that in a few weeks she'll take me to places me has never been before…far, far away from our yard. If she keeps her promise, maybe me will find some of my cyber buddies out there? In the meantime me have to be patient. Sigh. ©<br /><br />.<br /></span>Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-31761774952674611692009-04-20T20:56:00.021-04:002009-04-27T08:38:58.903-04:00My One Year Anniversary at The Rainbow BridgeCan you believe it, it's been a year since I left earth to come to the Rainbow Bridge. We don't mark our existence up here by the calendar but today I happened to check up on my mom, dad, and baby brother and I found Mom working on my grave site. That's what remi<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3vfOGAZxuFCx-DoH0G8Vewg1mpfKIQrdw-sT_tvI18nfNklgUofngSSi07XzMviJ_1mxqSEobK2CNCQ1HJ30dM0OYKOH9N9gaSKpUO8J2-z5OrB8ExULnH4-9x81V3gui32SNM2A8u3op/s1600-h/4+months+old.bmp"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 266px; height: 309px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3vfOGAZxuFCx-DoH0G8Vewg1mpfKIQrdw-sT_tvI18nfNklgUofngSSi07XzMviJ_1mxqSEobK2CNCQ1HJ30dM0OYKOH9N9gaSKpUO8J2-z5OrB8ExULnH4-9x81V3gui32SNM2A8u3op/s320/4+months+old.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5328116145459841522" border="0" /></a>nded me of how long it's been. She was cementing the marker down on top of a couple of patio stones and adding polished river stones and broken china to decorate around it. It looks pretty and it made me feel good to know I'm still in her heart.<br /><br />I'm finally a full-fledged angel-dog. Little did I know when I first got here that you start out with a little pair of training wings and if you want a "full-feathered" set you have to earn it feather by feather. I do look majestic, now, if I do say so myself. Not that most angel-dogs are vain about their looks. They're not. I was always a "preener" by nature and most earthly characteristics stick with you up here, especially the quirky character tics that make you you.<br /><br />Little Levi who Mom and Dad adopted the day after I passed over to the Rainbow Bridge is doing well except he still squats like a little girl which amuses me to no end. Dad always said I probably lifted my leg a minute after I came out of my mother's womb.<br /><br /><p></p> Being a poodle, I used to think poodles were the best groomed in the world but watching my schnauzer brother grow up has given me a new appreciation for and definition of dogging beauty. He takes my breath away, he's so cute and Mom loves to run her hands over the soft texture of his hair. She calls him her stress reduction machine. That long beard of his comes in handy, too. He hides bark in his mouth when he's outside and brings it inside. Mom always has a pile of confiscated bark sitting on the kitchen counter waiting to go back out.<br /><br /><p></p> Speaking of stress, there's been a lot of it the family house for Levi to help Mom overcome. All the bankruptcy talk in the news about the company my Dad <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKz9y2Hh7iwS0Obl34eM88PPcLoRudsQsFUwxn4HKjE8qY6DCbhrtPCVOwoT4sICW1s-zmDcgUdsHcSQVxFmPi8gFvcRDW1_-ue95S4GWdku-wAuWqmyzVUV1F6bXON6O0aBfSoh2Dko8/s1600-h/Levi+3-8-09.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 166px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMKz9y2Hh7iwS0Obl34eM88PPcLoRudsQsFUwxn4HKjE8qY6DCbhrtPCVOwoT4sICW1s-zmDcgUdsHcSQVxFmPi8gFvcRDW1_-ue95S4GWdku-wAuWqmyzVUV1F6bXON6O0aBfSoh2Dko8/s200/Levi+3-8-09.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5326953488990819266" border="0" /></a>gets his pension and health insurance from is causing it. She even started selling stuff on e-Bay to help build up a nest egg should that happen. It takes up a of time and she doesn't like doing but she's the kind of person who has to do something when trouble is on the horizon.<br /><br />Anyway, Levi is the perfect puppy for Mom and Dad and he came into their lives at the perfect time. I see that all now. In my sixteen years on earth I caused a lot of stress with my stubbornness and need for early intervention with an animal behaviorist. Mom and Dad were up for the job back in those days but now that they are older they deserve and need an 'easy' dog like Levi. He's a sweetheart with a sweet heart.<br /><br />Cooper from The Bridge<br /><br />P.S. Wasn't I a cute baby. That's me in the first photo above, when I was 4 months old. The second photo is one of Levi taken a few days ago.<br /><br />.Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-30529440391427174922009-02-07T21:18:00.005-05:002009-02-10T10:02:06.423-05:00Pee High, Pee OftenMom's been busy day dreaming over house plans and hasn't taken the time to help Levi get on the computer. She gets like that sometimes---drawing blueprints has been a life-long hobby of hers. Anyway, since Mom wasn't keeping in touch, I decided to take a break from my angel duties up here at the Rainbow Bridge to keep the blog from drifting off into oblivion.<br /><br />Actually, what drew my thoughts back to earth was my older brother Jason. I caught him peering down through the magic water at Mom and he was tail-wagging happy, laughing so loud a group of dogs had gathered at his side. I asked him what was so funny and he pointed down at a photo Mom had found in a box of stuff that had been in a closet for the past six years.<br /><br />Jason went on to tell about how Dad was never without his 35mm camera with a long, telescopic lens back in his younger years and Dad would drive Mom crazy because he took a zillion photos of Jason leaving pee mail all over the world. They'd go on vacation and half the photos he'd come home with would be of Jason peeing on things like: "You are Entering the State of Wyoming" signs, or a tire on the biggest front end loader in the world, or a tin can in the desert.<br /><br />Dad's favorite "pee mail" shot of my big brother is the one below and Mom had been looking for it for a long time. So she was happy when it turned up in the closet with a bunch of other framed photos that never got unpacked when they moved in .<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPfIGG2LogJwR83QtwRNzL9ogzbKsIngAoAFcniml_VlS0Y9ELMBPQfj8K7wYW1_lqhAu244w2xrY7ff9zcEeWhw6Tibx_qsKNcr5q1H2Xb1KpmYS4wMfeqn-wxKQczvgSjXkfzTwfm3bI/s1600-h/Pee+high.bmp"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 301px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPfIGG2LogJwR83QtwRNzL9ogzbKsIngAoAFcniml_VlS0Y9ELMBPQfj8K7wYW1_lqhAu244w2xrY7ff9zcEeWhw6Tibx_qsKNcr5q1H2Xb1KpmYS4wMfeqn-wxKQczvgSjXkfzTwfm3bI/s400/Pee+high.bmp" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5300245763500646370" border="0" /></a><br />I liked seeing Jason in this photo. Up here at the bridge he's a Mr. Perfect, do-good Angel Dog and it was fun to see him acting all macho in the real world. Who would have guessed he and Dad were so obsessed with pee shots? But I seriously hope Mom shows this photo to Levi. He's a year old and I'm worried about him still peeing like a little girl! That can't be normal.<br /><br />Cooper<br /><br />.Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com21tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-60067643711777363362009-01-29T23:12:00.005-05:002009-01-29T23:22:30.122-05:00Another Pet Food Recall<span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Moomie wanted me to pass the word about the peanut butter recall extending to pet products now. Click </span><a style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" href="http://www.petplace.com/dogs/fda-expands-peanut-butter-recall-to-include-pet-food-products/page1.aspx?utm_source=dogcrazynews001et&utm_medium=email&utm_content=petplace_article&utm_campaign=dailynewsletter">here</a><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"> to read all about it. Be careful, everyone!<br /><br />Levi<br /></span><br />.Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-40574999955047211772009-01-23T23:40:00.021-05:002009-01-25T15:17:06.999-05:00Happy Birthday to Me!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsrU5pvtrHRWaIXkmupqA82AihVn9whPRWXuOPnh6rSYmTkZjhyZh9DjbVNqhbg7jR8NCXD1iOhZhw9-g809ILjqpc6rHyzBxuY3Ifs03Lc7L63dRxZ68ksDWDyT6_whNnoSD7tQKipAhX/s1600-h/headshot.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 189px; height: 222px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsrU5pvtrHRWaIXkmupqA82AihVn9whPRWXuOPnh6rSYmTkZjhyZh9DjbVNqhbg7jR8NCXD1iOhZhw9-g809ILjqpc6rHyzBxuY3Ifs03Lc7L63dRxZ68ksDWDyT6_whNnoSD7tQKipAhX/s320/headshot.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294718669087051810" border="0" /></a> <span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Today was my first birthday. Me's not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing. On the good side me's got a new avatar to replace the one on right that was taken on my adoption day when me's was three months old. Me's also got a cake and play date with my cousin. On the bad side my Moomie made me make a list of everything Levi learned last year and everything me's still needs to learn. It took forever to write!</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">What I learned This Year</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);"> ---</span><br /><br />To pee and poop outside.</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"> </span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">To ask to go outside and bound on the window to come inside. Me's learned what Moomie means when she says: No, sit, off, stay, heel, stand, down, up, kiss, back (walk backwards), and come---me's does that real good outside but Levi doesn't see why me's has to do it inside. Moomie can't get lost in the house. Me's can also: Shake left and right, circle left and right, bow, go through Moomie's legs left and right, play the 'which hand' game, and the 'find it' game. But my favorite lesson learned is how to eat snow.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">What Me's Still Needs to Work on</span><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">---</span><br /><a style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM2AiRnX_H_SyKyQ1uCRpcWDLwAIV7CL8FkW2oMhEmxmGiW8ZsIDcidtekhI7ky29gA5Y-jofQdzfrs224afP2H9swzWxnO5jgaij8ikdi-xhHMik3x4qhJiXKrkVYd3vBqA2ar6mVyXwz/s1600-h/DSC00033.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 227px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM2AiRnX_H_SyKyQ1uCRpcWDLwAIV7CL8FkW2oMhEmxmGiW8ZsIDcidtekhI7ky29gA5Y-jofQdzfrs224afP2H9swzWxnO5jgaij8ikdi-xhHMik3x4qhJiXKrkVYd3vBqA2ar6mVyXwz/s400/DSC00033.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294718111616659218" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">- Not to play with toads</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">- Not to get so excited when company comes</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">- Not to take off Daady's socks when it's not bedtime</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">- Not to bark at Mom's morning doves and squirrels</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">- Not to squat like a little girl to pee</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">- Not to take the leaves off the house plant</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">- Not to keep forgetting to use my "I" word when me's type. Daady never says it, why do me---oops, why do I have to do say it?</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">- Not to sit and bark at Moomie when she's at her computer for reasons she can't figure out. She calls it a schnauzer thing. </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">- How to fetch a ball. Moomie tries SO hard to teach me that but me's just doesn't see the point of that game.<br />- How to put myself in time out when Moomie tells me.<br /></span><br /><span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">My Best Skill</span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);"><span style="color: rgb(51, 0, 51);">s---</span><br /><br />Me's automatically does a great sit/stay out the fall zone when my Daady transfers in and out of his wheelchair.<br /><br />Me's give Daady the best goodnight kisses. First me gets a good drink of water so my beard is all wet, then me jumps on the bed when the light goes out and kisses him in the ear. </span><br /><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">This is my cousin Ted and me taking a break from playing keep away with my favorite toy, a sock with a knot in it.</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq49Ci9gMF7UxhRByy1X0YfWah6QsgIJrz1cEheDDKW4y8_1G-OgOwQxYIrm9eEhIHReB-uXgBrTpyabe58Zn88xsp40ZCS3v59dNo9KuVl2KlJdULfutoWd8TBPpZb9U_diGSsCIpca0J/s1600-h/DSC00029.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjq49Ci9gMF7UxhRByy1X0YfWah6QsgIJrz1cEheDDKW4y8_1G-OgOwQxYIrm9eEhIHReB-uXgBrTpyabe58Zn88xsp40ZCS3v59dNo9KuVl2KlJdULfutoWd8TBPpZb9U_diGSsCIpca0J/s320/DSC00029.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294717767374743378" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">This is me investigating the cakie thing.</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpsQJt96yeVsoDVAC9DeRT_H1Cl8DoCjg8wXdW1dzVxsckohAzHv7bJS7kAIL7jS1ZgJGnDX2Wrj61cZ7MOzShUVWYqtw_C5adeyrQ39L3EszX4Jlwk-Dm9dVJYHUuDVYnbX3GsdKIuVMK/s1600-h/DSC00032.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 255px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpsQJt96yeVsoDVAC9DeRT_H1Cl8DoCjg8wXdW1dzVxsckohAzHv7bJS7kAIL7jS1ZgJGnDX2Wrj61cZ7MOzShUVWYqtw_C5adeyrQ39L3EszX4Jlwk-Dm9dVJYHUuDVYnbX3GsdKIuVMK/s320/DSC00032.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294717414872212354" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">This is me playing the 'find it' game. Moomie puts a treat under one of the three paper cups and me's has to watch the cups go around and around before me can have the treat underneath one of the cups.</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs4C2TsQdvF-IxyREKZdoEh50mEq0PJ9Gp0jDXhtaqHEbtYdYrxPHrrd0UFi1siB73SNLEtBAe2nlB5pIjsN9uPxZvDkyyncFuvsdxoj0atdruq-ZSBm_2J-2oM8Gd8y6x3s5d3q8ih3sx/s1600-h/DSC00034.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 252px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs4C2TsQdvF-IxyREKZdoEh50mEq0PJ9Gp0jDXhtaqHEbtYdYrxPHrrd0UFi1siB73SNLEtBAe2nlB5pIjsN9uPxZvDkyyncFuvsdxoj0atdruq-ZSBm_2J-2oM8Gd8y6x3s5d3q8ih3sx/s320/DSC00034.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5294716954851929858" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Next birthday can you all come over to play with me and Ted?</span> <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">Love, Levi<br /></span><br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4MBi7lzmCLHQhw9N_T1OccZF732WHZmFbDP-CQ6R5mdcbxij2yqjt-SpwydesS1jKAnIPkA2oFVwwVzrf210xaWEMxiapyvMndGK9SbdTpKomgL2B-2VoEJz9CjmlIK5azNHeDl6WO8wS/s1600-h/Levi.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4MBi7lzmCLHQhw9N_T1OccZF732WHZmFbDP-CQ6R5mdcbxij2yqjt-SpwydesS1jKAnIPkA2oFVwwVzrf210xaWEMxiapyvMndGK9SbdTpKomgL2B-2VoEJz9CjmlIK5azNHeDl6WO8wS/s400/Levi.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5295250478718271442" border="0" /></a></span><span style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);">From my friend, <a href="http://tibbytales.blogspot.com/">Tibby</a>!</span><a style="color: rgb(102, 51, 102);" href="http://tibbytales.blogspot.com/"></a><br /></div><br />.Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-9163630020779878932009-01-17T16:30:00.015-05:002009-01-18T15:13:10.758-05:00Tail Biting Time<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWUpj8OvV6tB2ptR_mexViYNzmASctcD5cWtxmuNvLeDtxY4GEitPfvuyA_nwvydHwx8etOd2Xt1ZZpkhKsccRKDmg7Y8zUv8obCzubdEoDy71B9-DKkA_dvr25HSE4cAbMJpD0MD7f5al/s1600-h/DSC00028.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 211px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWUpj8OvV6tB2ptR_mexViYNzmASctcD5cWtxmuNvLeDtxY4GEitPfvuyA_nwvydHwx8etOd2Xt1ZZpkhKsccRKDmg7Y8zUv8obCzubdEoDy71B9-DKkA_dvr25HSE4cAbMJpD0MD7f5al/s320/DSC00028.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292380439228708130" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">This is my Daady's really, really, really old friend. His name is Donkey Footstool which is a strange name compared to mine---Levi Strauss. Notice that he has a weird bunch of hair sticking out of his butt. Moomie calls it a tail and it used to be longer and thicker.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Yesterday when my pawrents went out for lunch me's decided to turn Donkey Footstool's butt into a schnauzer butt like mine. Clean, trim and sleek.</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz9ar1Et3vg59pgzYjU7DMSqxAYuiZ9nelKbdbSwOePs1MES__T1BVHFXkPNq1EyG74uRE-COo7i_N9aVRBx8oSX8qkRooyqkX0xBd2b9KR_xG5B06Vhx3I7dU7Yul0X1kLww5jPrce_-6/s1600-h/DSC00026.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 207px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz9ar1Et3vg59pgzYjU7DMSqxAYuiZ9nelKbdbSwOePs1MES__T1BVHFXkPNq1EyG74uRE-COo7i_N9aVRBx8oSX8qkRooyqkX0xBd2b9KR_xG5B06Vhx3I7dU7Yul0X1kLww5jPrce_-6/s320/DSC00026.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292385678033303762" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"> But Moomie did not like that Levi surgically removing that tail. Can you believe that! She gathered all that hair up and spent a long time trying to put it back together again.</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEW-Nnb5iLa2SmmPmTVZaiabmlTFmnx7_DcSoCdHcxhMumWK0fYxAOImaDWEhDhzZh_OXNPWiMtPgM9RP3iYibnQHAxzefyxCm32WZFvKFd5lfYXxBEUwotcp5QGTLjC0SE7GXN3DQY1Xc/s1600-h/DSC00021.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 152px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEW-Nnb5iLa2SmmPmTVZaiabmlTFmnx7_DcSoCdHcxhMumWK0fYxAOImaDWEhDhzZh_OXNPWiMtPgM9RP3iYibnQHAxzefyxCm32WZFvKFd5lfYXxBEUwotcp5QGTLjC0SE7GXN3DQY1Xc/s200/DSC00021.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292388049828935746" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">After Donkey Breath got his tail back, Moomie tried to get us to kiss and make up, but we didn't do it. When she wasn't listening he threaten to bite me if Levi tries to grab his tail again and me promised him next time me will hide all that hair so Moomie can't find it.</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzRmRER9USF2_2EMPWWfzm1HT1Nbc6QW2VVaZcz1ov5VcczwtEnJ3vgqwzi8U0w55LvUoVS2HyHCI2oZYQJ_XsxfmtKUB9OkFD-WcWt94kWFlm-U3COMzT4bBtbjmewIZjJP-F_Aehtcix/s1600-h/DSC00023.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 345px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzRmRER9USF2_2EMPWWfzm1HT1Nbc6QW2VVaZcz1ov5VcczwtEnJ3vgqwzi8U0w55LvUoVS2HyHCI2oZYQJ_XsxfmtKUB9OkFD-WcWt94kWFlm-U3COMzT4bBtbjmewIZjJP-F_Aehtcix/s400/DSC00023.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292389016456968866" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">At least someone appreciates my talents even if Moomie and Donkey Breath doesn't. This award came from my friend </span><a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" href="http://tibbytales.blogspot.com/">Tibby</a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">. Thank you, Tibby! </span><br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi223QDlHFq_aL-mKQGaADE1ogjRRKWPONGfEZgV7QUaBIpzFanksbT9ccFVy8_2pQymxhCHuDuBn3UV1IYA1pMPQg7XbUFHnYI2AoG7DgPqPiLPNAzB1nJW-XC0wOnRvyzqw1794gF6AQo/s1600-h/friends+award.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 160px; height: 160px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi223QDlHFq_aL-mKQGaADE1ogjRRKWPONGfEZgV7QUaBIpzFanksbT9ccFVy8_2pQymxhCHuDuBn3UV1IYA1pMPQg7XbUFHnYI2AoG7DgPqPiLPNAzB1nJW-XC0wOnRvyzqw1794gF6AQo/s400/friends+award.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5292381921502361026" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">This award came with these words: "These blogs are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award."</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Levi is passing this award on to:</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" href="http://deetztheairdale.blogspot.com/">Deetz</a><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" href="http://agenuineruby.blogspot.com/">Ruby</a><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" href="http://mydogshavefleas.com/fleasblog/">Shelly</a><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" href="http://sherryrind.blogspot.com/">Alanis</a><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" href="http://hersheyandkaci.blogspot.com/">Hershey</a><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">.</span>Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-66844461077523349012009-01-13T21:44:00.008-05:002009-01-14T16:38:43.112-05:00Training Humans<st1:state style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><st1:place>My Moomie gets SO mixed up! She's old you know, but is that really an excuse? She should be better at following instructions by her age. Do other doggies have trouble training their humans? It's been horrible weather here in Michigan</st1:place></st1:state><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"> today and my feet got cold. When that happened me's needed to warm them up on Moomie's belly, but when Levi---ever so politely---barked my request to Moomie, she put me outside where my feet get even colder! That happened five or six time. FINALLY, me's got her to understand that Levi needed to sleep on her lap while she did her computer work.</span><p></p> <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZnjJK1WzmO_9g4Y1i-UT6DMDYh42B9WDX0wPtAlImOsc7MabA5pp5VaQemAR0a94WKwdv0J9pywKkdnk4-6pgsiartnlkXt1Edj4hSFiSMsOBndM5oyyOlgeT73ijbkkiN0BYSRVHvNNN/s1600-h/DSC00018.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 212px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZnjJK1WzmO_9g4Y1i-UT6DMDYh42B9WDX0wPtAlImOsc7MabA5pp5VaQemAR0a94WKwdv0J9pywKkdnk4-6pgsiartnlkXt1Edj4hSFiSMsOBndM5oyyOlgeT73ijbkkiN0BYSRVHvNNN/s320/DSC00018.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290976920763847954" border="0" /></a> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" class="MsoNormal">After awhile me's warmed up and decided to play with Mr. Froggie, my new buddy. Did you hear what happened to him? His arm accidentally got caught in my mo<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNtfp_aX1P1z5yyana1kyv097_bN-xcebQi2emaMf11r2obcvcTya9ZBtM-E822jpKxxoioSWkDs9V91GZjD5JKesuVqKbAdwuZu37j8i-QdFqRPufAcQBI-LETmIpTKEgOlvRALsySBdX/s1600-h/DSC00020.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 120px; height: 112px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNtfp_aX1P1z5yyana1kyv097_bN-xcebQi2emaMf11r2obcvcTya9ZBtM-E822jpKxxoioSWkDs9V91GZjD5JKesuVqKbAdwuZu37j8i-QdFqRPufAcQBI-LETmIpTKEgOlvRALsySBdX/s320/DSC00020.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290975749790635474" border="0" /></a>uth and Levi had to chewed it in half. Moomie sewed him back together but his arm got shorter and put on backward. Why did she do that? Now me's have to chew it off again so she can get it on right<br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">side up.</span></p><p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br /></span></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" class="MsoNormal">Levi did make some progress training Moomie, though. Every since my pawrents adopted me we've been having this back and forth argument about where my daytime bed belongs. Moomie wanted in the kitchen next to her computer desk but me would drag it into the living room a million times a day and park it in front of the <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIuh7pv2sxy2S1T3Rh8VvEKWG42LiBikS1j6_SMduMHd1IYohidBAJFO8gV6h-Jx5SKAHGYU-PBwRbpzAuPmNX1QI8gdsSFULsQzHH2IacHPy6bnXh9SnkzNuG_szsJuzfPw29Tvuzi722/s1600-h/DSC00017.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 314px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIuh7pv2sxy2S1T3Rh8VvEKWG42LiBikS1j6_SMduMHd1IYohidBAJFO8gV6h-Jx5SKAHGYU-PBwRbpzAuPmNX1QI8gdsSFULsQzHH2IacHPy6bnXh9SnkzNuG_szsJuzfPw29Tvuzi722/s320/DSC00017.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5290976296105726306" border="0" /></a>deck door where there is a great view of the bird feeder. FINALLY, after five months of this Moomie got trained to leave my daybed in the living room. Me's nearly cheered out loud when she told Daady last week that she's going to buy me another daybed for the kitchen. Oh, and those branding irons and old cowboy boots of my daady's---they got moved. Something was said about chewing or knocking things over and hurting myself so Levi now has that sunny corner by the desk all to my self.<br /></p><p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p><p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" class="MsoNormal">.<br /></p>Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-85396541251962611672009-01-04T15:37:00.007-05:002009-01-04T19:39:40.801-05:00Dog Dancing---is She Crazy?A bunch of us dogaroons up here at the Rainbow Bridge were lounging under the tennis ball trees discussing our humans and their habit of making New Years Resolutions. So I decided to peek down at my family and see what silly things Mom put on her list this year. Mom's a list kind of person so I knew she'd have one. Years ago she even made one of those "100 Things to do Before I Die" lists and recently she found it again. She'd actually done about half the things on her list and decided she should make a new list. The first thing she put down was: "Shorten this list to 25 things to do before I die. I'm old!"<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZU_P3b7TrU_Eyxxuv3tgZP9kpFdiB0j7oyXK0o3tv_psjUGVNps8nIBgeAMTO8QFZVFl2jXiRGuzHimtcTTZ1Jwksp5Vle-JBdCH5KiznkbhYLYyvfbhdreI9RGVhgHFABf-dj8fy28LJ/s1600-h/dog+belly+dancing.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 149px; height: 168px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZU_P3b7TrU_Eyxxuv3tgZP9kpFdiB0j7oyXK0o3tv_psjUGVNps8nIBgeAMTO8QFZVFl2jXiRGuzHimtcTTZ1Jwksp5Vle-JBdCH5KiznkbhYLYyvfbhdreI9RGVhgHFABf-dj8fy28LJ/s400/dog+belly+dancing.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287514273841741570" border="0" /></a><br />I digress. For her New Year's Resolutions Mom had put down the customary weight and exercise related things that seem to be required for humans to list. She had a few improve-your-personality type things as well, pretty standard stuff for Mom. Then she had one crazy, totally unobtainable thing listed. Even crazier than the time she vowed to learn how to belly dance. In 2009 she wants to---get this---learn how to do dog dancing with my baby brother, Levi!<br /><br />Mom thinks it will kill a flock of birds with one stone. 1) It will give her some exercise; 2) it will give Levi some exercise; 3) it will create a stronger bond between Mom and Levi; and 4) it will entertain Dad with their practice sessions. What Mom left out of the equation is that fact that she's old and she can hardly walk. Sure, she'd got one new knee but the other one won't even bend. It's shot and needs replacing, too. She can't walk fast or for long without pain, let alone run and if she tries to dance, she'll look like a character in a low budget Frankenstein movie. I love her but a hunchbacked old woman dragging a leg behind her doesn't exactly inspire my confidence in her ability to pull off dog dancing with Levi.<br /><br />Levi, the little trouper, is doing his part. Already he's learned how to bow, shake right and left, do circles on command and is learning to go through Mom's legs. He can also do the normal obedience things like sit, down, stand and heel. And get this. When I looked down on them today Mom was sitting in her rolling computer chair trying to get Levi to back up and come forward as she rolled to and from him. I think she's mixing wheelchair dancing up with dog dancing. I know she's watched those wheelchair dancing competitions but I'm not sure she has a clue what dog dancing is all about.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2HRdz0xZOCTIZXzUMe4_vpUg4jqRjCPiUym7Ci6JWshZGlxkVddbWbgcJfyJ3PyYtLs8SGUoBpIY-qnyPm_uQVDPeIGtiBeWLnnjXjep-hxTgTifsFrI96UtovItse0sAU99_iOMdvyPF/s1600-h/050715HGP_CanineDance_tn.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 178px; height: 192px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2HRdz0xZOCTIZXzUMe4_vpUg4jqRjCPiUym7Ci6JWshZGlxkVddbWbgcJfyJ3PyYtLs8SGUoBpIY-qnyPm_uQVDPeIGtiBeWLnnjXjep-hxTgTifsFrI96UtovItse0sAU99_iOMdvyPF/s400/050715HGP_CanineDance_tn.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287514669170369762" border="0" /></a><br />I tried to talk to my older brother, Jason, up here the Bridge about Mom's craziest. He's a full-fledged angel-dog and a newbie trainer on top of that. But he says I can't interfere. I tried to tell him she's going to fall and break her neck but Jason is firm about the rules. No ifs, ands or buts about it I can't erase 'dog dancing' off Mom's New Year's Resolution list and her memory and replace it with 'knit everyone on the block a sweater.' It's a pain in the butt sometimes to have all this angel-power not be able to use it in so-called wasteful ways. How is it wasteful to make my mom act her age? On the good side, most of her New Year's Resolutions don't make it to April. ©<br /><br />Cooper<br /><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cJ9NqyChCA0">Wheelchair Dancing Competition</a><br /><a href="http://landofpuregold.com/ina.htm"><br />Wheelchair and Dog Dancing</a><br /><br /><a href="http://csf2008.elte.hu/social/lunchtime.html">Paragility Show and Dog Dancing</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TlKTYyjDwnI&eurl=http://www.caninefreestylemagicmatch.com/">Carolyn and Rookie, Dog Dancing Team</a><br /><br />.Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-85103400490541513902009-01-04T14:10:00.011-05:002009-01-14T09:30:17.543-05:00Look at This!<span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Oh, my gosh, look what Levi got from <a href="http://latteandcookie.blogspot.com/">Latte & Cookie</a> and <a href="http://abbyakacrabbyabby.blogspot.com/">Abbie</a>! </span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeAeYiovNK6VKIMKZMSi2woFfFn5Lz8EnMTvSjXLXJ4f1ab0UWVSE6vnbJTRVRVeigs5E1Vy5R4A9S2tCfuhy7dmcKccUpKVsrqaD8BUcy3ZzwFwTsLHatH6NAqX-CNzsowhYislls25eZ/s1600-h/Proximidade_Blog_Award.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 190px; height: 153px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeAeYiovNK6VKIMKZMSi2woFfFn5Lz8EnMTvSjXLXJ4f1ab0UWVSE6vnbJTRVRVeigs5E1Vy5R4A9S2tCfuhy7dmcKccUpKVsrqaD8BUcy3ZzwFwTsLHatH6NAqX-CNzsowhYislls25eZ/s400/Proximidade_Blog_Award.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5287520223180189970" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">The award states: "This blog invests and believes in PROXIMITY - nearness in space, time and relationships!" In other words, blogs that receive this award "are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in prizes or self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers! Deliver this award to eight bloggers who must choose eight more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award."</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Levi is tickled pink to get this award. But meanie Moomie is making me pass it on to other worthy dogs. Since me has to do that, Levi is giving it away to my new and old friends:</span><br /><br /><a href="http://tibbytales.blogspot.com/">Tibby Tales</a><br /><a href="http://fenwayspark.blogspot.com/">Fenway</a><br /><a href="http://willowskids.blogspot.com/">Willow</a><br /><a href="http://ladykaos.blogspot.com/">Lady Kaos</a><br /><a href="http://agenuineruby.blogspot.com/">Ruby</a><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Okay, that only five but that's as high as me can count. Me's still a baby.<br /><br />Smell ya, later. Levi</span><br /><br />.Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-67483709962433676592008-12-30T21:08:00.007-05:002012-04-14T15:21:39.870-04:00Adopting a Buddy<span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Today my pawrents took me to the place that steals hair. Again! How many times are they going to do that before my Moomie and Daady figure out not to take me there? Me's tried to tell them it's cold outside and Levi needs his hair but they wouldn't listen. After those thieves did that and other embarrassing to me everyone kept saying what a handsome boy me is. But when Moomie picked me up she just said Levi didn't look like me's needed to go on a diet anymore. Last week she even started me on adult food more than a month before my first birthday 'cause she thought the puppy stuff was making me fat. Well, not exactly. Me's gets baby food half and half adult.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh4yCMrZjpDWH4aVLHJ7mOMTd8-zHNDq5DPIGkudJjE9Xpwo37cJL81a452L2f3F8P3gQ-6A87yFnNNPeFdsHZHZhJs-7WR9LsOHMko80TINGduWEs9Efxz-Ash7RNrAhm1vFCoE8UH3Y_/s1600-h/DSC00009.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 197px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgh4yCMrZjpDWH4aVLHJ7mOMTd8-zHNDq5DPIGkudJjE9Xpwo37cJL81a452L2f3F8P3gQ-6A87yFnNNPeFdsHZHZhJs-7WR9LsOHMko80TINGduWEs9Efxz-Ash7RNrAhm1vFCoE8UH3Y_/s320/DSC00009.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285770726679933026" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">On the way home we stopped at Starbucks for a cup of cream and then Moomie said we were going shopping for a belated Christmas present. Oh, Boy! Levi LOVED that idea. She said me's needed something big so me's would quit molesting pillows…whatever that means. Levi can't help it that they keep trying to run away from home and me's have to stop them.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">The selection was picked over, Moomie said. They only had two big stuffies left---a frog and a monkey---so me tested them both out. Mr. Froggie passed. It cost a whole $20.00 to adopt him! Is that fair? He's so homely that no one wanted to take him home before Christmas. But to tell you the truth, it didn't matter that he was the last of the froggie in the litter to go. It was love at first sight.</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq5czIwZbdENRCF3xZ-w4aZDTri0J0rmQ5KzpI__zlVeRwJ8l2okN-eJ3lAxlu81sNk9nme9g-1EUvsk-3Xxf6cK0XAnlGkTbmn0YdVacl5hSdv_sT6L1jUANJ-qvMTEbZ4aIULHmiwy8M/s1600-h/DSC00012.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 285px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgq5czIwZbdENRCF3xZ-w4aZDTri0J0rmQ5KzpI__zlVeRwJ8l2okN-eJ3lAxlu81sNk9nme9g-1EUvsk-3Xxf6cK0XAnlGkTbmn0YdVacl5hSdv_sT6L1jUANJ-qvMTEbZ4aIULHmiwy8M/s320/DSC00012.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285771175129970386" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">When Froggie got to our house he tried to get into the refrigerator but Moomie made him get down from there. Mean Moomie! He was hungry. Then we played and got to know each other better after that. Me's showed him my bed in the kitchen and then we got tired and took a nap together in my other bed 'cause it was quieter in the bedroom. ©</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKFYQZvGQ_WQYdJ65qlOSaytyJZmbLyNMXO-7ruxG2r65fTYesfSekeadr_6tXceJyNcNsGKBho2k97rqGXl2azWD-OkSFtCLd8a4_Pf8PJHBAEwDpTP0N_Ognn1UwbwRqiSNbtZqEdtAt/s1600-h/DSC00015.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 281px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKFYQZvGQ_WQYdJ65qlOSaytyJZmbLyNMXO-7ruxG2r65fTYesfSekeadr_6tXceJyNcNsGKBho2k97rqGXl2azWD-OkSFtCLd8a4_Pf8PJHBAEwDpTP0N_Ognn1UwbwRqiSNbtZqEdtAt/s400/DSC00015.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5285771460782889410" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(102, 0, 204);">.</span>Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-20422350459589612862008-12-27T00:35:00.013-05:002008-12-30T17:21:30.359-05:00Christmas, Bah Humbug!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIwi2jP0YJM5bpaFY9qoNlHauLPUlYuu8PCaZ87ofR3FqEBg5Df3UM1sjw-ZtH0JKPBRwOfkx48qhoYuHajU4YIXbBoTxS5Q-3tM8zl5I3fppnTL8hmmkqXjL5066Bws0UQZoZUAsFzImx/s1600-h/DSC00004.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 276px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIwi2jP0YJM5bpaFY9qoNlHauLPUlYuu8PCaZ87ofR3FqEBg5Df3UM1sjw-ZtH0JKPBRwOfkx48qhoYuHajU4YIXbBoTxS5Q-3tM8zl5I3fppnTL8hmmkqXjL5066Bws0UQZoZUAsFzImx/s320/DSC00004.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284341443969417618" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br /><br />Christmas was a GIANT big disappointment. Me's read all over "Dogs with Blogs" how we're suppose to have a good time on Christmas day and get lots of pretty presents but all me's got was this dumb banana---oops, bandanna---and a bag of my favorite treats. Then me's got left alone all afternoon because my daady got sick with the dreaded cabin fever. At first me's was really worried when Moomie said the only thing that would cure cabin fever was to go see a dog named Marley at someplace called Showtime. Then it came out that Daady is in LOVE with Marley's moomie, Jennifer Aniston, and me's got suspious. If you ask Levi me would say that Daady was just<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKlNa6IxrbjsWJH4kZGLrgUUcmuXTX8ncXfqp3e5q1LSWXVjizkcqmCkrArPXcGVVAieLksbYD2JpzqVX7SW1VC1fWmleIe6Rfpv1n6k46dWuRZi1yhQuU9sZqNdT7KPWx8_jkB7Ykd-tr/s1600-h/DSC00006.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 160px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKlNa6IxrbjsWJH4kZGLrgUUcmuXTX8ncXfqp3e5q1LSWXVjizkcqmCkrArPXcGVVAieLksbYD2JpzqVX7SW1VC1fWmleIe6Rfpv1n6k46dWuRZi1yhQuU9sZqNdT7KPWx8_jkB7Ykd-tr/s200/DSC00006.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284340995576152658" border="0" /></a> pretending to be sick so he could be with that Jennifer woman but Moomie didn't seem to catch on to his charade. So no one tell her, okay?<br /><br /></span><p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" class="MsoNormal">While they were gone Daady's pillow tried to run away from home. Since Levi is the head of security when Moomie's gone it was up to me to stop it. Me wrestled the pillow in the living room but he kept trying to make a break towards <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibjdAFITSPoqUrnXb50PyJxVSxfkIdv-JCK4lfEXCEYkmxGAcW7WeTce9oTacHGfkLqRid4UK9ssptKYE4z52br6Tvon4Jv8SwmK8lkarHiXzWJBrnKhW6L9Fxb56tsJPdMNYvpWmoljzz/s1600-h/DSC00008.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 254px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibjdAFITSPoqUrnXb50PyJxVSxfkIdv-JCK4lfEXCEYkmxGAcW7WeTce9oTacHGfkLqRid4UK9ssptKYE4z52br6Tvon4Jv8SwmK8lkarHiXzWJBrnKhW6L9Fxb56tsJPdMNYvpWmoljzz/s320/DSC00008.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5284340665538295778" border="0" /></a>the back door. Then Levi accidentally bit a hole in it while me was dragging it into the library. After that Daady's pillow gave up and me was able to hold him down until my pawrents got home.</p><p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" class="MsoNormal">Daady and Moomie smelled strange when they returned. Like corn on the cob with lots of butter on it and me's couldn't smell that Marley dog anywhere. Me checked their pants, their shirts, their hands and faces. No dog essence anywhere. Me guesses that Dr. Marley dog was zipped up inside one of those isolation bodysuits to keep himself from catching cabin fever while he treated my daady. Me's didn't smell another woman on Daady either. That Jennifer woman must have been wearing a blue bodysuit, too.<br /></p><p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><br /></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" class="MsoNormal"><o:p> </o:p></p> <p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" class="MsoNormal">Me's is getting a headache and my tummy hurts. Oh no! What does it feel like to get cabin fever? ©</p><p style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" class="MsoNormal">.<br /></p>Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-40889331363735151202008-12-21T22:19:00.017-05:002008-12-24T15:41:33.831-05:00Levi and the Snow Machine<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Me's got up this morning<br />and found the most beautiful white stuff</span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"> all over the deck. </span><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Moomie called it snow and she moved a lot of it out of the way<br />so </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">I could go down to my yard to pee.</span><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqVNT_N7I72joXdfVmE8vIZ50UtDVLePVkGm-eU4VeMhQujhFXGTiEXqTdOHK1xdfkALvBfNQkU31qqNLGTdV6M7V-XUo689KJ37WffzTUNLV7Nhp4lgRCfIzZBKRq5uv-6UGRrRLqEePr/s1600-h/DSC00063.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqVNT_N7I72joXdfVmE8vIZ50UtDVLePVkGm-eU4VeMhQujhFXGTiEXqTdOHK1xdfkALvBfNQkU31qqNLGTdV6M7V-XUo689KJ37WffzTUNLV7Nhp4lgRCfIzZBKRq5uv-6UGRrRLqEePr/s320/DSC00063.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282451864297818722" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">My yard was so full of snow my four foot fence was only was only 18 inches high.</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzJauF7KpIVV02Qm-a06p38T1-Be9x7tzZyAH5k5JomVc479Wk7BdXNclxbTEkaJzevTtwfRO06f4c5ph5SISR-4SkQUpHyKFmGftb1wICdS5bEfMSSX4bkZ7Rq720y4QrTGZID0CR7zoC/s1600-h/before+shoveling.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 250px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzJauF7KpIVV02Qm-a06p38T1-Be9x7tzZyAH5k5JomVc479Wk7BdXNclxbTEkaJzevTtwfRO06f4c5ph5SISR-4SkQUpHyKFmGftb1wICdS5bEfMSSX4bkZ7Rq720y4QrTGZID0CR7zoC/s320/before+shoveling.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282451685850405122" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Me's decided to dig my way to the fence so I could stick my head out between the slats to see what was going on in the street. Moomie said cars were stuck all over the place.</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMrjbDl_JS5rDC4BjWEV2lqSAN61fWeFw7ugGGkoaNKgK2k5oDyh8WUjAitCAn2ZglwqqqL2N1gAUcElqao4wyGzH2_0jRSZIEwsFhHZZecuD6pClr8gWwzFnAPURAz7B92tP6X4KBssSl/s1600-h/I+can+dig+there.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMrjbDl_JS5rDC4BjWEV2lqSAN61fWeFw7ugGGkoaNKgK2k5oDyh8WUjAitCAn2ZglwqqqL2N1gAUcElqao4wyGzH2_0jRSZIEwsFhHZZecuD6pClr8gWwzFnAPURAz7B92tP6X4KBssSl/s320/I+can+dig+there.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282450938575281810" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />This is me still trying.....trying, trying to dig.</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeZqi4Wmawjaf8oAKWuFrckvSYlH9bzDJ1zDgvrTIvdnRc5IGOiq0fyPey6JskfRNCFroBfDPip2ruUVJ5gbfeVHr5MakkqXCVr7v7co5Qbu5BbOvhvWGCguQJOCk4UsnfNf8UjzvsLh0h/s1600-h/I+want+to+get+to+the+fense.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeZqi4Wmawjaf8oAKWuFrckvSYlH9bzDJ1zDgvrTIvdnRc5IGOiq0fyPey6JskfRNCFroBfDPip2ruUVJ5gbfeVHr5MakkqXCVr7v7co5Qbu5BbOvhvWGCguQJOCk4UsnfNf8UjzvsLh0h/s320/I+want+to+get+to+the+fense.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282450823991857186" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Me had to give up so Moomie could take this silly picture. But Levi did get the eve trove pipe uncovered. That's important.</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCz7qVfM_q6SfhR8UNWVy1SdeglaLJ_g6qqzVbajt-kNpU-N0TVA33AkNgKKtklSyIzVEN4m3fmvmdRz14X4ia8X_MFUBcRG7K-nBp8sHMjH2no8JOzuDbsDvyOMmMJG7etPMF1zuWt6EB/s1600-h/tried+to+get+there.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 242px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCz7qVfM_q6SfhR8UNWVy1SdeglaLJ_g6qqzVbajt-kNpU-N0TVA33AkNgKKtklSyIzVEN4m3fmvmdRz14X4ia8X_MFUBcRG7K-nBp8sHMjH2no8JOzuDbsDvyOMmMJG7etPMF1zuWt6EB/s320/tried+to+get+there.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282451381227339298" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br />This is me back on the deck taking a break and watching Moomie shovel my dog yard.</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ccmvDlWOIy_AIyP7JEMu5XqQrBSJs5vhFmaOc_fbLKP_B11E0E7TCEKs9kIR5xG-yZJb6aOHTT2zYtVqO56zoune18uZasm70KwOnXPfIPKcIG_Oup31bXtBcg1bJmfhyphenhyphen7lZo6QLXDe3/s1600-h/coming+in+from+dig.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 258px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ccmvDlWOIy_AIyP7JEMu5XqQrBSJs5vhFmaOc_fbLKP_B11E0E7TCEKs9kIR5xG-yZJb6aOHTT2zYtVqO56zoune18uZasm70KwOnXPfIPKcIG_Oup31bXtBcg1bJmfhyphenhyphen7lZo6QLXDe3/s320/coming+in+from+dig.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282450506048727106" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">This is what it looked like when she got through. </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Me's don't know why she did that. Me's was planning to eat it all up when me got finished playing in it. Snow tastes DDDDDDDDDelicious!</span><br /><br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdNFiz-qWJSEfobGk_8tsE4HrCeOTa1hEhsNRQjPLyj7ftIPDoWnOJesrShx0gVqpQKvBdVGvGQr5cFyfJgyMDzUJRrJVDUROyo-62up9d9bey2CO0GPomKPCHv7diWMc4KgPvgPeWzCpN/s1600-h/after+shoveling.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 246px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdNFiz-qWJSEfobGk_8tsE4HrCeOTa1hEhsNRQjPLyj7ftIPDoWnOJesrShx0gVqpQKvBdVGvGQr5cFyfJgyMDzUJRrJVDUROyo-62up9d9bey2CO0GPomKPCHv7diWMc4KgPvgPeWzCpN/s320/after+shoveling.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282450361318990754" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"><br /><br />This is Moomie trying to take a picture of herself. She's laughing. Me's don't know why.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtf1I75mHUsRU1jiwJku8ptnLZWdgr7gI1puS6QMJZAp_OU1oqKwX8jNVc9KTt8JZmHsQUYVfIVSQ724Mlofjp2wYZajxgQA-dOl1FTOyU2tLcdksX59ek53JI1tyPOuL0GANbtz0WngF5/s1600-h/DSC00001.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 295px; height: 262px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtf1I75mHUsRU1jiwJku8ptnLZWdgr7gI1puS6QMJZAp_OU1oqKwX8jNVc9KTt8JZmHsQUYVfIVSQ724Mlofjp2wYZajxgQA-dOl1FTOyU2tLcdksX59ek53JI1tyPOuL0GANbtz0WngF5/s320/DSC00001.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282695612192246226" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Me had snow in my beard for a long time after we came back in the house.</span><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4myQ8zZf11saX2X9nRfEo3GgTYEDPMWEEwH-eToD2ysLyhIZ9SZbiAltdMmriNW7OdpRqS6E4PV1f9LNxc_IHtc-JpluBquRNT93UxO1hM-yXDWy-qQPIF2ERTXCREoeGPUx866EGxkdo/s1600-h/back+in+the+house.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 268px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4myQ8zZf11saX2X9nRfEo3GgTYEDPMWEEwH-eToD2ysLyhIZ9SZbiAltdMmriNW7OdpRqS6E4PV1f9LNxc_IHtc-JpluBquRNT93UxO1hM-yXDWy-qQPIF2ERTXCREoeGPUx866EGxkdo/s320/back+in+the+house.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5282449675004377394" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"> Levi LOVES snow!</span> <span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);"> </span><br /><br />.<br /><br /></div>Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-38892263354249974702008-12-15T01:31:00.010-05:002008-12-21T22:19:33.974-05:00Gold Stars for Good Puppies<span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Anyone there? Levi has some news. Me's got a new gold star on my 'Good Boy' chart. Well, me don't really HAVE a chart but Moomie pretends that Levi does and she just added a shiny pretend star for OUTSTANDING big boy behavior!</span><br /><a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXsY2d6mzHNojilRGKMKeYB0dpbfo-SMU7L-ZI8dFSnbH6PivS-plc4poGYbH7pjm3vZenKZG933KPG01ZzKEp1CF5uCtBAS280PDT_ZUJxon-5aCtz2GB3IyzdrSjgQ3evhNX2kUj7Alm/s1600-h/gold+star.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 135px; height: 104px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXsY2d6mzHNojilRGKMKeYB0dpbfo-SMU7L-ZI8dFSnbH6PivS-plc4poGYbH7pjm3vZenKZG933KPG01ZzKEp1CF5uCtBAS280PDT_ZUJxon-5aCtz2GB3IyzdrSjgQ3evhNX2kUj7Alm/s400/gold+star.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279902650183360818" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Every since Levi came to live with Moomie and Daady me's been practicing, practicing, practicing like a fire drill in case Daady would fall on the floor. He can't walk, you know. Me didn't really know what that meant to "fall on the floor" but me figured it must hurt like when me rolls off the couch by accident. Anyway, we kept drilling for me to sit-stay out of the 'fall zone' every time Daady transfers in or out of his wheelchair.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Yesterday it happened. Daady fell while trying to sit on his shower bench. It happened so fast! He hit his head and was moaning and acting kind of scary. Moomie was acting all scary, too, checking for blood and trying to pull Daady by the feet so his head could get away from the shower wall. Then she put a pillow under his head and made a telephone call. All this time me was the perfect little schnauzer, still sit-staying out of the fall zone which is right along side of the wheelchair, real close-like to the brake lever should you ever have to learn to do it.</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Finally, Moomie scooped me up and put me in the kitchen behind the baby gate. Me's didn't even let out a peep then or when a noisy truck roared up to the house and two guys came inside. Five minutes later two MORE guys came in. Me could hear them all asking Moomie and Daady questions. Daady can't talk much---just one word at a time---but when he said, "Gas" Moomie said, "He fine now. When he starts giving tours of the artwork, he's fine." (The bathroom is decorated with photos of old gas pumps that Daady used to collection.)</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Then at night another bad thing happened. The lights went out and they stayed out for four hours. It was getting really cold in the house, too, and me didn't even fight Moomie when she put a winter coat on me. Daady didn't fight when she made him go to bed early </span><a style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzjNg2-we6MWAA2LgfCgm7ZoGvskQKwsBoGWG9Xe7KwdJalY4lH-XtrhqNhMNKimlfXwxnKfkpjoqY7HKvyv2gCCeJ6wu4cVUlfQvkv1g72Kvcsh9jKQHqinAI4r90-Fz1usGfeCrgeq9R/s1600-h/gold+star.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 135px; height: 104px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzjNg2-we6MWAA2LgfCgm7ZoGvskQKwsBoGWG9Xe7KwdJalY4lH-XtrhqNhMNKimlfXwxnKfkpjoqY7HKvyv2gCCeJ6wu4cVUlfQvkv1g72Kvcsh9jKQHqinAI4r90-Fz1usGfeCrgeq9R/s400/gold+star.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5279901736532901522" border="0" /></a><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">either. Poor Moomie. She had quite a time getting Daady out of his electric La-Z-Boy in the dark. She was holding a flashlight in her mouth trying to put the back-up batteries in a thingie. Earlier she had hooked my flashing light on my collar and a clip-on light on Daady's shirt until she got us both where she wanted us to stay until the lights came back on. Moomie said to pretend we're all camping. Me doesn't know what camping is but me's don't think Levi would like it. Anyway, me's got another gold star but it was kind of dumb to get that second one just for not getting lost in the dark. Moomie doesn't seem to know that we doggies can see in the dark. </span><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:";font-size:78%;" >©</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Smell ya later,</span><br /><br /><span style="color: rgb(153, 51, 153);">Love Levi</span><br /><br />.Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com16tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8866306071864148220.post-31861882953646074552008-12-08T21:40:00.007-05:002008-12-09T00:20:53.345-05:00Christmas Time at the BridgeThe holiday season up here at the Rainbow Bridge is a busy and happy time. There are parties and bark-alongs and lots of speculating on what our humans are giving each other for Christmas. We've even got a good natured pool going. We're trying to see which of us angel dogs can guess the most gifts correctly. No way can I win the pool <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgedDaq_SLd7EyJzI-LNA7OBjIjCLyhWv_dIjOKOVPIGh0CR1BJcG0Gv0cwA-1BsoGVxfhihmVhJWd7UqAtnEy_UcpwVtvD2rTYLiseRpiUByO26EceqXERzud1GvgQZTRIN9yznR0zA13D/s1600-h/cooper+after+don%27s+stroke.bmp"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 229px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgedDaq_SLd7EyJzI-LNA7OBjIjCLyhWv_dIjOKOVPIGh0CR1BJcG0Gv0cwA-1BsoGVxfhihmVhJWd7UqAtnEy_UcpwVtvD2rTYLiseRpiUByO26EceqXERzud1GvgQZTRIN9yznR0zA13D/s320/cooper+after+don%27s+stroke.bmp" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277615338675096050" /></a>because there is just my mom, dad and Levi to exchange gifts in my family but Dad and Levi can't go shopping so that just leaves Mom to buy two gifts. <br /><br />The Christmas gift pool has made the lines up here at the magic water extra long. The magic water, you'll remember, is under the bridge and it allows us to view our humans down on earth. But even waiting in the lines is fun because we all exchange stories about our holiday times on earth when our humans would dress us up in reindeer antlers or velvet bow ties and other silly things like the blinking, light-up collar I had for many years. We'd also swap stories about the trees that accidentally got peed on and the gifts that got ripped open.<br /><br />One day after waiting in line I finally I got my time at the magic water and I could see a red Christmas fabric neck scarf for Levi sitting on the dining room table and an unopened U.P.S. box sitting by the front door as Mom and Dad came back from the grocery store. <br /><br />"I think Cooper's Christmas present came!" Mom told dad.<br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br />A gift for me? </span>I thought. W<span style="font-style:italic;">hat on earth could they get for me? I've been dead for ten months now. <span style="font-style:italic;"></span></span><br /><br />I couldn't wait to tell the other angel dogs what my quirky Mom was up to. I couldn't wait <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Ijh618VUY_uGTVtv59QUJc_aFtiVnGp9JYi1ktzEPbDH5uxqQFlwPN1pBrltzmBRnpockGKV34SK-b3gKj4kQTiptEthwgUrMa7Hc5QftpasXLPNxLLP4masXOj0z-GID6p9VAVy4wsG/s1600-h/DSC00050.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 227px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4Ijh618VUY_uGTVtv59QUJc_aFtiVnGp9JYi1ktzEPbDH5uxqQFlwPN1pBrltzmBRnpockGKV34SK-b3gKj4kQTiptEthwgUrMa7Hc5QftpasXLPNxLLP4masXOj0z-GID6p9VAVy4wsG/s320/DSC00050.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5277616005427414530" /></a>myself to see what she was up to! But imagine my out right shock when she opened the box and revealed a custom make grave marker. No more magic marker on a patio stone for me! I'm getting a REAL memorial marker and if Levi pees on this one like he does on the homemade marker the little bugger is going to feel my wings fluttering my anger in his face. ©<br /><br /><br />P.S. The photo above was taken of me about six years ago. Mom found it on an old roll of film she just had developed. The memorial marker came from www.harrietcarter.com <br /><br />.Misadventures of Widowhoodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17262709452281226620noreply@blogger.com11