Voices in Her Head

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:

"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 nine o’clock. It’s always nine o’clock---on the dot---when I wake up this way."

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?

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Pee High, Pee Often

Mom'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.

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.

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.

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 .


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.

Cooper

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Blood, Pee and Poop Everywhere!

I've hardly had a moment to myself up here at the Rainbow Bridge since I volunteered to help with the dogs in the path of the hurricanes. Those poor dogaroons down there really need what our angel dog team is doing to help calm their fears. It's rewarding work but I feel a little guilty for not being around for my baby brother, Levi. His problem is getting worse.

Levi will be nine months old at the end of the month and he's been housebroke for five of those months but it's been raining a lot where Mom and Dad live and Levi is giving Mom fits about going outside when it's raining and when the dirt in the dog yard is wet. He's even started peeing and popping on the deck. He'll also ask to go out one door and when he finds out it's raining there, he'll run to another outside door and ask to go out, thinking it might not be raining on the other side of the house. Mom has gone back to square one and is sitting outside with him until he goes where he's suppose to go, regardless of the rain on his back or the wet dirt under his paws. He's making progress. This morning he peed on the rubber mat at the bottom of the deck steps and pooped while squatting on my grave stones. That kid has scrambled eggs for brains when it comes to respect for the dead.

Mom's got the right idea about going back to square one, and I'm sure the problem will work itself out, but I did feel sorry for her yesterday. She woke up with Dad saying the S word over and over again. At first she thought he was trying to pull on his pants while Levi was trying to pull them off. But the tone of the word was different this time, not filled with laughter but panic stricken instead. He'd transferred to his wheelchair, cut his foot and had bled all over the carpeting from the bed to the bathroom and Levi was licking it up. Dad is taking a blood thinner so there was a LOT of blood. Mom jumped out of bed---as much as an old person can jump with arthritic joints---to get Dad and the floors cleaned up and to shut Levi out of the master bedroom while she worked. It took a long time and in the meantime Levi pooped and peed in the living room. That was not really his fault given the circumstances but still it wasn't a great way for Mom to start her day.

So tomorrow the carpet cleaners are coming. Between having the blood removed and sanitized—a $95 requirement for "health reasons so says the cleaning company"---and having the floors in three rooms cleaned and the pets stains deodorized that have accumulated since Levi joined the family it will cost Mom $239 total. If I had time, I'd mental telepathy a little humor down to Mom and remind her that puppy stains might be a good reason to get the hardwood floor she wants installed. What the heck, I'll take the time. What's my angel-brother going to do if I show up late for work? Kill me? I'm already dead. ©

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Prince Charles and the 3rd Obedience Class

"Aaaaah-ah-ah-ah-aaaah-ah-ah-ah-aaaah!" That sound is me doing the Tarzan yell because I'm so proud of Levi's performance in obedience class. Jason would say I'm being boastfully proud but I'm starting to catch on the fact that he says a lot of stuff just to tease me into thinking before I speak. What angel-in-training dog wouldn't be proud of his little earth-bound brother who did TWO figure eight heeling exercises in front of the WHOLE class and out shined all the other puppies when it was their turns on the runaway? The trainer/instructor even said to Mom, "Fine job, excellent!" And she didn't say that to anyone else. She just gave the other humans pointers for improvement as they did their walks.

For this week's homework---there are two pages worth---Mom has to practice having Levi do 'sits' and 'downs' many times in different places, working on him being patience and having good manners. And every 3rd or 4th time Levi does it he's to get rewarded with a "Life Reward" instead of a treat. That part will be easy for Mom. She already praises and pets him to an embarrassing level. Heeling while keeping your dog's attention is another goal on the homework list, forgetting about distance for now. That's a bummer for Mom. She wants to go around the block already. But training lessons aren't suppose to be more than ten minutes long so Mom is going along with the program and not doing the neighborhood tour just yet.

Mom is scary, spooky sometimes. You know what else has she's been doing? Trying to teach Levi to pee and poop on command. A couple of weeks ago the obedience instructor said that when you are teaching something new you wait for your dog to do the action and then you name it. Every since then Mom's been saying, "pee" and "poop" every time Levi does one or the other. The neighbors probably think she is crazy. I sure do. First humans want to tell canines where to pee and poop and now they want to tell them when to do it? What's the world coming to? That's the scary part. The spooky part is that Mom thinks Levi understands the pee-on-command thing as of two days ago when she pushed him gently off the steps and tried giving the 'pee' command for the first time. He squatted and did it, but it could have just been a coincidence.

Me, I had the Prince Charlie advice on peeing and pooping down pat. One time when he was being interviewed someone asked him what was the most important thing he'd learned about being in the royal family and he answered, "Never pass up an opportunity to use a restroom." The Prince Charlie theory on pit stops came up often when Mom and Dad used to travel. It's one of those things that tickled their funny bones and became a family joke with immense benefits to them and to me, a dog who got to mark trees all across America. ©


Top Photo: Johnny Weissmuller, 1930s Tarzan for MGM
Bottom Photo: The Prince of Wales, Prince Charles

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Bad Boy Puppy

Levi is turning into a bad boy puppy making me as proud as an alley cat that just found a plate of fried chicken sitting on a picnic table. That goodie two shoes act he had going there for so long must have been him making sure Mom and Dad fell in love with him until he was positive the ink had dried on his adoption papers.

He's had quite a week. He discovered the joy of pulling threads in a throw rug. The floor is minus the rug now. He figured out that decorative couch cushions are just stuffies without eyes and lips to kiss. The cushions are lined up like soldiers on the back of the couch now where he can't reach them. Yet. He also made his Houdini escape from the dog yard that I wrote about the last time I blogged, and Levi learned to chew paper and pull house plants apart. But the biggest bad boy stunt of all happened the day before yesterday when he peed in the house for the first time in two weeks.

Well, what did Mom expect with the peeing on the carpet. She'd completely forgotten to let him out at 10 PM and by midnight my baby brother was tired and he had forgotten to try working on his canine-to-human mental telepathy. Mom caught him in the act and made the same mistake she did the last time she caught him. She called him a 'bad boy' in a loud, angry voice and he paid her back in the same way he did the other two times she did that. He didn't peeing again for over twelve hours, making her feel really bad for his tiny little bladder. But three times is the charm and I'm hoping Mom knows by now that Levi's a lot different than me and Jason were at his age. We could let the scolding go in one ear and it was forgotten ten minutes later when it came out the other ear. Baby Levi keeps it in his brain and truly gets his feelings hurt. He wants Mom to always be syrupy sweet, full of praise and wiggly all over the way humans get when they are using that positive reinforcement stuff. So he's trying really hard to learn the house rules...unlike me who always thought that rules were best when you broke them and could then watch Mom and Dad get all puffed up about it.

The next day after the soiling the carpet caper, like clock work Mom took Levi outside every two hours and stayed long enough to read a whole chapter in Whistling in the Dark and when she'd come in Dad would use one of the few words at his post-stroke disposal and would ask, "Pee?" and Mom would have to report "No" and feel bad all over again for yelling. ©
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Humpy and the Vet

Yesterday Levi got his rabies vaccination and the rest of his puppy shots. He weighed 12 pounds 4 ounce---a gain of 2 pounds 2 ounces in two weeks. He's going to be a cow when he grows up! Mom says he's like picking up a Beanie Baby because he folds, bends and drapes as if he doesn't have a bone in his body. But he's still going to be a COW! A huge COW compared to all his poodle siblings up here at the Rainbow Bridge. The vet gave him a 'puppy love' neck scarf for being so brave---he didn't even cry when she plucked hair out of his ears---and mom got a bill for $125.32.


As if the little bugger didn't use up enough money from the metaphorical cookie jar, Mom took him to the pet store after seeing the doc and let him pick out a toy. The new stuffie was named Humpy because he looks like he was made for---well, you know. His butt is always in the air and he has a distressed look on his face. Levi likes him because he's got five squeakers implanted. He's addicted to squeakees.

Levi is trying really hard to figure out how to do canine-to-human mental telepathy and Mom is trying to figure out if he's doing it, or not. He is but he's sending his messages off into space without aiming them at any particular person. And you know what else that screwball does? He goes to the window, instead of the door, when he wants to poop or pee. Our angel sister up here at the bridge says Levi's misdirected telepathy reminds her of her time on earth. She says Levi is a space cadet like she was but our angel brother Jason says, "No, Levi's lack of skill is age-appropriate for a puppy." Sarah is sweet but she's still a space cadet. Most of the time we just humor her and her silly notions.

I'm signing off for now. Jason is on the orientation committee up here at the bridge and he's taking me along to greet a couple of newbies. We'll show them all around and make sure they find some friends so they won't ever have to be alone. ©
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Angel Puppy on Earth, Trouble Bubble in Heaven

I've been at the Rainbow Bridge just over two weeks now in human time. Up here, though, there is no such thing at time marked by weeks, months or even years. What is IS if you know what I mean. Mom and Dad still talk about me every day or I should say Mom talks and Dad listens because he can't talk since his stroke. She tells him stories about me as a pup and how much different little Levi is from me at the same age. They laugh and smile at the memories and pour the love on Levi that they can no longer give to me. I may be absent physically but I'm still presence in their hearts.

Levi is the perfect pup for them at this time in their lives. He is sweet and obedient and God knows I was anything but obedient. I was nicknamed the Trouble Bubble for a reason. Adopted at five-and-a-half weeks, I turned out to be a hell-raiser on four paws and didn't make an effort to get civilized until many months later when I had some sessions with a doggie shrink. (See this blog entry for details about Dr. Spock of Dogdoom.) But Mom and Dad were younger back then and they couldn't go through all they did with me again.

At fourteen weeks Levi was the last of his litter to find a home and many of the problems adjusting to living with humans that I had he never developed. He is so tender hearted that he gets his feelings hurt with the slightest reprimand and he takes Mom at her word when she says 'no' to things like chewing shoes laces and table legs. He also doesn't whine or cry when he has to sleep behind a baby gate in the laundry room or ride in a crate in the car. He accepts everything except the vacuum cleaner in his new world including the fact that he can't poop and pee in the house anymore. I'm bragging here but my baby brother even sent his very first mental telepathy message to our mom and she got it! He stood with his front paws on the window sill and kept looking back and forth between the view of the dog yard and Mom, asking her how he can get out there to do his job. Yup, God and I did a great job matching my humans up with little Levi.

Not that Levi is a perfect puppy. He has a stubborn streak about things like Mom's requirement that he not pull weeds in the dog yard and toss them in the air. And forget about the Fooey brand bitter tasting stuff she sprayed on the bark still left along the edges of the fence. Mom got some on her fingers and about gagged on her cookies when it got transferred by accident to her lips, but Levi likes it. He's also a puppy who loves to roll in the dirt and yesterday he discovered the joy of digging holes. Mom better hurry up and get those patio stones over my grave before Levi decides to dig up my bones.

Well, I'm off to my first Mother's Day party up here at the Bridge. I hear tell there will be grills set up where we can snatch all the hamburgers and hot dogs we want and there will be a champaign toast to our earth mothers everywhere. ©
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It's All Mom's Fault!

I shouldn't laugh at Mom. I really shouldn't but she can be an airhead sometimes. Yesterday she got up promptly at eight to take little Levi outside. Right away he peed and she got all happy-wiggly with him, human style, making him feel good for doing his job so quickly and in the right place. So far so good, right? Then she called him up the steps from the dog yard and he came but he didn't want to go in the house. He plunked his little butt down on the deck and here's where Mom made a big mistake. She picked him up and made him come in the house anyway and he promptly pooped on the kitchen floor. Levi is going to be SO confused if Mom doesn't learn to read his very obvious body language soon. Jeez, a blind monk on a mountain top could have seen that one coming. Hello! It was morning and he'd had another poop and pee free night.

Levi is getting five minute training sessions several times a day. He almost has it mastered to come when called, sit when asked and is no longer resisting walking on a leash...well, accept for when he wants to poop and Mom has her blinders on. Yesterday he even went to the door for the first time and sat down waiting for his leash to be attached so he could go outside. Fortunately, Mom saw him do it. Holly molly, she needs to find a better way for him to let her know its poop and pee time in the old corral---and quickly. She can't always be near the laundry room to see him sit patiently waiting for her to open the door. Oh, and add this to little Levi's list of accomplishments: he finally figured out how to go down as well as up the required three steps off the deck.

Speaking of corrals, when I was earth bound I never had an issue with my bathroom duty yard being covered over with shredded bark, but Levi does. He goes out there and tries to chew on every single piece of bark, all 300 pounds of them. Mom got so exasperated trying to dig bark back out of his mouth she finally took a rake and rounded up all the bark she could into one corner. That exposing the dirt which created another fun activity for Levi---rolling in the mud and getting himself tangled up in his retractable leash. He's so little that he can fit through the slats of the fence so he has to be leashed out there for now. I sure gave Mom a run for her money when I was Levi's age---I was bullheaded compared to him---but he's no slouch at creating his own brand of doggie drama.

Every day at tea time when I come to the Rainbow Bridge to check up on my humans, I meet the nicest canines doing the same thing. We laugh and cry with our families and trade stories about our time on earth, but not in a sad way. We are happy and contented here because even though our humans don't always know it, we're still with them in spirit. ©

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Rainy Days and Sing-Alongs

Oh, my gosh, baby Levi has so many new things to learn. Today it was a lesson about rain. It was coming down very lightly when Mom took him outside at noontime and he acted like a kitten trying to wash its ears. First one paw, then the other came up and over his head, trying to brush the raindrops off his furry little head. He never did pee. He just parked himself at Mom's feet where he was getting some protection from the rain and contemplated what was going on in his newly expanded world. On his next trip outside it was pouring rain and the spoiled little puppy got an umbrella held over him. He still didn't pee but he discovered mud is fun.

Mom thinks it would be nice if people threw puppy showers the way they do human baby showers. There are so many new puppy things on her 'want list' including an electronic press paw door bell. Isn't that silly? I used to just stare at Mom until she'd have a moment of clarity and let me out. She also wants a doggie 'travel bag' for Levi's gear, another bed for the bedroom---if Levi ever gets potty trained enough to be trusted on the carpet---and a puppy rain coat. For a minute and a half she even wished for a doggie stroller until she remembered that it would be quite a feat to push our dad's wheelchair and Levi in a stroller at the same time. It never occurred to her that Dad could push the stroller while Mom pushes Dad. But, heck, he's a DOG. He should walk like a dog. Years before my time on earth, my human grandma used to tell Mom when she had Sarah: "Put that dog down! She's got legs." Sarah still laughs about that up here at the Rainbow Bridge.

Still, a stroller would have come in handy when our humans take Levi on day trips. He won't get to be the travel dog that I was but our folks still go to some fun places. Every week in the summers, for example, they attend an outdoor blue grass concert in the park and dogs are not an uncommon sight there---some even in strollers. The park runs along side of a jogging trail and lots of dogs and their humans stop mid-way along their trek to listen to the music. Me, I was never invited to go with them to the concerts because when I was earth bound I would have sung along with the people on stage. I was quite famous, you know, in the days when we used to give 'birthday grams' over the phone to everyone we knew. Dad would play the harmonica, mom would sing and I would howl HaaaPPPPyyyyy BirthDAAAAyyyy to YOOoooOOUUU. I used to sing with Mom and Dad a lot. Levi, being a schnauzer, won't be encouraged to sing I heard our humans say.

Speaking of music, I've got choir practice in a little while. The Rainbow Bridge Chorale is giving a performance tomorrow night. ©

Stroller photo: Petzip Urban Vague

Goodie Two Shoes

Levi and his teddy.




Goodie two shoes---my new earth brother---finally did something to upset our adoptive mother. Or I should say it's what Levi didn't do that upset her. He didn't pee for twelve hours today and she was thinking he was getting sick from the vaccinations he got yesterday or from being outside last night in the frosty cold when she was trying to get him to pee before bedtime. Worry wart that she is, she called the veterinarian's office and they said, "No, the vaccinations shouldn't cause that to happen." And, "Are you sure you he didn't pee when you weren't looking?" (I was watching, too, and the little guy really didn't pee over night or in the morning.) "Is he acting listless?" "Is he eating?"

"He's acting the same way he has since we adopted him," Mom replied, "and he's eating well," to which the vet's receptionist advised Mom to call back if anything changes.

After hanging up the phone, Mom started worrying that her pop-can-turned-rattle with the pennies inside scared Levi TOO much when she'd caught him squatting where he shouldn't be squatting. It was the last time he'd tried to pee---before the twelve hour dry stretch---and she'd startled him so bad he'd stopped mid stream.

Finally, mom decided to give Levi some filtered water instead of the tap water in his dish and he drank like he'd been out on the desert for a week and promptly peed all over the kitchen floor five minutes later. Mom was so happy that she didn't even ball herself out for missing out on the action until it was too late to rattle the can or scowl him.

It's a good thing Levi is a good puppy and nothing like the trouble bubble that I was at his age. The veterinarian's phone would be ringing off the hook. ©


What do you mean blankets aren't toys?



Total trust, total comfort.




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My Fire Hydrant

A lot of you dogaroons wanted know how I came to get my very own fire hydrant. I have my dad to thank for that. He used to be a crazy collector guy when we first met….I'll explain more about that later.

The September after my adoption, he and my mom took me on a vacation all the way from Michigan to Colorado. I was three months old and they wanted me to be comfortable so they rented a rolling dog house to keep me cool and give me room to run. It was twenty-four feet long and it even had a people bed and bathroom inside. By the time we'd gotten the Indiana state line, my mom was sick of refilling my little water dish and she said if I was going to keep sitting in it and splashing water I might as well go all the way. So my folks bought a big, deep dish pan, filled with water and I played inside of it most of the way out to Colorado.

Back in those days---before Dad got the rolling chair---he collected memorabilia from old gas stations. Porcelain signs, oil cans and bottle, pumps, give-a-ways, road maps and other stuff from the 1900s to the 1940s. So every where we went on that vacation he'd stop at flea markets, garage sales, and auctions looking for stuff. At one antique shop he got it into his head that he wanted a parking meter but the one he saw cost too much so he started stopping at small town municipal places until he finally found one that sold him four old parking meters. Off we went with those things taking up space in the middle of my rolling dog house floor.

We didn't get very far. Just as we were ready to turn back out on the main street my dad noticed a field covered with old fire hydrants and he did a U-turn right in the middle of the intersection. Long story short, he bought me a big hydrant and another smaller, antique one for himself. I actually pee on mine but he just looks at his. Humans, go figure.

When we moved after my dad's stroke my mom made the movers dig up my fire hydrant and plant it in my new outdoor space--it's got a foot and a half foot pipe that goes in the ground. My old space had some nice scrubs around the hydrant, as you can see in my puppy photo in the right hand column. My new space is kind of boring but it does have a white picket fence on two sides. My mom says it isn't fair that she always wanted a picket fence but I got one first. By the way, she wasn't too happy about hauling two fire hydrants and four parking meters all the way home from out west either, but I guess they grew on her. She saved both fire hydrants and one meter from getting auctioned off when my folks did our major downsizing a few years back.

Some people say I'm a spoiled dog. What do you think? I think I'm just a normal, well-loved four-legged kid.

Oh, if you noticed the hole chewed in my lattice work to the left of the fire hydrant, I didn't do it. The yard rabbits did. My mom used to worry that it was my black friend with the white stripe down her back that did it. Boy, was Mom happy the day she saw a rabbit shooting out from under the desk. ©
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No Time to Pee

What a day I had Friday! It was grooming day and I looked so bad before I went that I wouldn't even let Mom post a picture of my pre-cut body. Let's just say it wasn't pretty. This photo (below) taken afterwards isn’t so good either. Oh, I got a good cut but I was not a happy camper. I was mad as hell.

I was at the groomers for three hours and no one would let me pee! I'm old; I need to do that more often now that I'm on heart medication. They'd pick me up and carry me here and there---the bathing tub, the blow-dry table, the cutting table, the waiting cage---and never once did my feet touch the floor. Even Mom, when she came to get me, carried me out to the car. Well, every dogaroon knows you can't pee in a car but the minute Mom set me down in the garage, I just let it go. And did I go. I created the Yellow River of No Return.

Speaking of garages, my folks brought home an interesting essence last week. It was the same smell as that wonderful black creature with the white stripe down its back that roams through our yard sometimes at night. I call that a nice barking opportunity and every time I give her the hi-nice-to-see-you-again bark she treats me to her perfume.

Last week, I was all around and under the car looking for my black and white friend, my mom yelling at me the whole time to get away from the vehicle. For two days every time I'd go outside and pass through the garage on the way to my fire hydrant I'd take a side trip around the car. The third day my folks took the car away and it came home smelling like soap suds.

Someday I'll tell you about how I came to get my own, personal fire hydrant in my backyard. ©
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An 'S' Word Kind of Day

My mom is having a hard day. An 'S' word day. It started out with me peeing and pooping on the kitchen floor before she got up. That will teach her not to forget to put the ugly black box in the doorway before she goes to bed. Not that I would ever use it to do my business in but I probably would have held off a little longer if it had been present. She got up at 9:05 and she ought to know by now that I pee and poop at nine sharp.

Then I got into the trash and fished out a couple of Kleenex to eat for breakfast. That was her fault too. She had taken the top off the container and left it unattended to answer the doorbell. That brought back great memories---digging around in the trash. I remember my puppy days when even the red pepper she put in the trash basket couldn't stop me from diving for Kleenex and other worthy prizes. Then she bought all those different types of baskets, trying to out-smart me. It couldn't be done. Oh, the good old days before the trash basket went behind a closed door. Door knobs and latches aren't easy for short dogs like me.

I've never understood what is so bad about saying the 'S' word but my mom said it today after she accidentally kicked over my water dish. It was clean and full to the top, too. That was funny watching the water snaking across the laundry room floor as my mom scrambled to find something to stop it from going under the dryer. Well, what did she expect? It was bound to happen sooner or later with that dish sitting so close to the door going out to the garage. ©

Cardboard Prison

I've always been a busy dog---some might say a naughty dog---until this last year when my heart started acting up. I'm 15 ½ years old but I still feel like a puppy inside. I still want to pull toilet paper through the house but when I walk from the kitchen to the bathroom I have to stop and rest half way. Man, that's a long way to go just to cause a little trouble. So, I've been known to pee on the carpeting instead. That seems to do the trick to get my mom running around like a crazy creature looking for rags and a big red spray can that she uses to re-mark the spot that I just did. Why does she do that? I mark. She marks. I mark again. I may be old but I'm still alpha leader in our pack and I can win any pissing contest. Well, almost any. My territory is three steps down off the deck and sometimes I have trouble in our Michigan winters getting down there and... well, accidents happen.

Yesterday my mom spent a long time lining a huge cardboard box with black plastic. I didn't know what she was making but I had an awful feeling it had something to do with me. At bedtime I found out she did have something sneaky up her sleeve. Mom closed me in the laundry room with the ugly black box blocking the door to the rest of the house. I think she thought I was going to pee in it but I fooled her. I waited until morning, until my dad moved the box, and then I peed on the Linoleum in the kitchen.

I like sleeping in the laundry room but I hate being barred from going into the rest of the house at night. I can't look out the dining room door to see the rabbits eating bird seed at midnight. The snow banks are so high next to the deck that they can run right up them to get to seed my mom throws out for the birds. I think one of night raiders is the rabbit I found hidden in the flowers last summer when it was still a tiny baby. ©