Who needs Toilet Paper???

OK.  I’ve heard many a story of people hoarding all sorts of stuff during this Pandemic.  The strangest one to me (and Zoe) is the stockpiling of TP (unless it was close to all-hallows eve when it comes particularly handy for creating tepees in the trees).

Now what I would understand accumulating masses of are: canned tuna fish, dog treats, kibble (since fresh steak really isn’t an option for long term storage), MuttMitts – for our frequent walks, and…

Although, the below picture/caption made us laugh – uproariously – we have never gotten to the point where another walk bothered us.

But then, there are definitely times when I wish to have some space and “me” time – I think I may have mentioned this recently.  For instance, the other day, I jumped into the crawl space below our garage in the hopes of finding a respite from human and canine contact.  But, alas, some creeper followed me and captured this pic:

Which was shared by The Scribe – without my permission – via a mass email which invoked the following response:

“Seriously?? You jack*%@es are following me here too?”  A sentiment to which I was conveying EXACTLY!  Can’t a girl have some time where the paparazzi isn’t trailing her?  I realize I am glamorous and independently famous but really???

Anyhow, back to my original point, why the obsession with TP with all the grass (or carpet – if you don’t have hard wood floors) around?  Why do you think Zoe and I were so excited by the carpeted basement (aside from the wrestling opportunity) 😉 ?

The Tempest

 

 

What Happens during the Outbreak…

SHOULD stay in the outbreak.

But it at a moment like this that The Scribe, of all people, defies all decorum and takes this picture and puts them in MY blog!  Outrage barely comes close to describing my current emotional state at this horror.

However, he did then take us for a nice long walk with our Mom so that the negative energy I was starting to feel rapidly dissipated.  Of course, if we don’t get fed soon – and by fed I mean STEAK from an on-line butcher to ensure it’s safety – I may just as quickly get the “bitch” on.  You better watch it people!

The Tempest

Alone Time

“It’s time I had some time alone“

It’s the end of the world as we know it (and I feel fine)
REM

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A quite appropriate response to my last post was this:

“You don’t sound very happy with the increased presence of the humans!” – rummuser (one of our favoritists readers).

This statement is totally in line with my line of thinking.  However, it does omit one factor that stands in my way of total peace, and time for thoughtful contemplation of my place in the universe.  For example, here I am just getting into my inner space:

Then Zoe arrives, makes a short video of how she (sees herself) fitting into the universe:

And at the end of the day?  She takes over my pew in the theater of soul searching:

And so I resign myself to what my paternal grandfather taught me…create your own family somewhere far away from where your actual family resides 🙂 .

Sweet dreams to all.

The Tempest

“It’s nice to know you work alone”
Silversun Pickups

 

(truth be told, I have really enjoyed the extra walks with my entire pack during this time of shelter-in-place.  There seems to be something that is coming from this human pandemic that is bringing families and communities together – forcing them to realize the real price of our time…which my sister and mentor…used as the subtitle of this blog (which she borrowed from Lin Brehmer): “It is GREAT to be alive.”

March Madness

March usually brings about a lot of disruption to our daily routines as our parents trot off to one sporting event or another.  And this year was no exception – kind of.

They did pack a suitcase and were gone for one night.  When they returned the next day, they were neither crying or cursing which is usually indicative of a quick exit by Michigan basketball or hockey teams from some tournament or other.  Nor were they happy which may have indicated a win in said tournament or other.  In addition, this was what we found in the mailbox upon their return:

This was a bit of a surprise to Zoe and I – until I started thinking of recent weekend events that have been going on around here.  My initial reaction was annoyance as I felt this was interrupting my blogging time.  But upon reflection, as I just mentioned, I understood that the clearing out the attic, boxing up of detritus around the house that has accumulated over the last 10 years, the laying of carpet in the basement – which Zoe and I thought was long overdue (and as soon as we were allowed down there we immediately commenced in a wrestling match… as the installation was in process.  Ha ha ha!) – which I can now see added up to the fact that they were trying to sell our house!

Then things got really weird.  Not only did my parents not go anywhere else for sporting events, they started the longest weekend Zoe and I have ever seen.  They spent a lot of time on their work computers – not something dad often did and wasn’t atypical for mom – but they did spend a lot of time with us which was AWESOME – although a bit disturbing too as at times it felt like we were in prison:

But in other ways, we were getting more walks and seeing a LOT more dogs (and people) as we were on our strolls.  Who knew there were so many dogs in the ‘hood’ – well we did because we could smell them all but it was interesting to see them live and in person – albeit from 6 feet or more away.  My parents have been strict about this.

Of course there were many moments of extreme boredom when no one would walk by our front window.  Dad even joined us on occasion.

But then there were the good times when a dog would walk by:

And we also found other thing to do like eating pencils, chewing masking tape, etc.:

But when we found out the dog treat aisle at target was cleared out…

(or maybe this was the toilet paper row?)

We got depressed again and stared out the window in the hopes that something would happen outside our window that we could post that would go viral.

Tempest

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“Right before my eyes the whole world lost control”                                                               -Cage the Elephant

Writers Block

Sometimes, even when the Scribe is “listening”, the words fail me.

The Tempest

(always love The New Yorker dog cartoons)

P.S.  My parents can’t but please don’t touch your face!

Bullying the Bull Elk

December 28, 2019

As I mentioned, lots of stories to convey to you from our (the Scribe’s) period of mostly inactive blogging.  Over the next several weeks, the chronology of stories may jump around a bit: today, last year, last week, and maybe even some that Montana started with Sammy years ago.  Who knows  how long I’ll be able to keep the Scribe’s attention and which stories I feel I need to tell.  This particular tale comes from our Christmas/New Year visit to Los Alamos and points nearby – 75 Woodcutters Lane in particular (or thereabouts).

Although Zoe and I have gotten pretty good at obeying commands when at school – and our teacher is present – there was some concern that we (Zoe) would not behave as well in the mountains.  This was based on her two previous visits and her basic lack of focus when distractions are present – like the parakeet at school a month or so ago…but again, that is one of those stories for another time.  In preparation for our longer walks in New Mexico, we did some training on long (20′ leashes) at home and at school.  We even started our treks in NM on these tethers.  I quickly graduated to “off leash” status.  Zoe spent a bit more time on one with many more reprimands for not listening when the “come” command was given (side note: my parents got what they found to be hilarious pint glasses from a colleague around this time – again, a story for a future post).

Finally, after a couple of short training treks around our Grandparent’s property, it was time for a longer hike (one which our grandfather still considers to be a stroll or short walk).  Off we went!  Mom, Grandfather, and myself free to roam where we pleased, while Zoe was stuck to Dad’s arm and controlled by the long lead.  To my surprise, she performed admirably and was soon given her own freedom – which she respected by staying relatively close to the pack.  That is until she heard/smelled something far more interesting (maybe a parakeet) up the side of the ridge.  And off she went:

We continued on up the road for a bit expecting her to return to us for the rest of our walk.  After a bit, we stopped, called her name, waited, and nothing.  Maybe if we just carry on some she’ll catch up we thought?  After rounding a bend in the road, and Zoe was no where in sight, it was decided that Dad and I would walk back to where she took off up the hill, while Mom would stay on point, and Grandfather would continue on – hoping that one of us would soon spot her.  Of course, the downside to this approach is cell phone reception – and our GPS trackers – are of limited use out in this trackless wilderness (yeah I know the road could count as a track but relative to Illinois (?) this is back country for us city girls).

Dad eventually asked me where Zoe was so I stuck my head in the snow and said: “here she is!”  He ran up to me and shortly realized I was totally messing with him.  Boy was that funny.  If it wasn’t so cold, tears may have formed in my eyes.

He asked again in his serious tone – like he wasn’t amused by my cleverness.  So, naturally I looked up the hillside to the top of the ridge where Zoe was cavorting around not minding her owners.

We continued on back to where a driveway intersects with the road and went up the hill a bit onto the property of one of our grandparent’s neighbors.  And there on top of the hill was Zoe making a “beeline” toward us.  When she finally got to us, she collapsed at starting eating snow – apparently a bit parched from her romp in the hills.  Dad quickly attached her leash to her collar and we ambled back to where Mom was waiting.  However, what we found out then totally took Dad by surprise – I was pretty much on to it given I have a functional nose.

Hearing the story as told to us by Mom, I was pretty impressed by the actions of my little sister.  Turns out that while scouting the ridge top where she expected Zoe had gone, Mom heard some branches breaking and saw two large bull elk not a 100 yards (or meters) away.  Then, without warning, they took off running. Crushing falling branches and kicking up loose rocks as they sprinted away.  In their wake was a flash of shiny black fur as Zoe tried to reign them in.  Luckily for our pack, she did not catch up to them but rather returned to us since one kick from either one of those massive creatures could have crushed her.  She told me afterward that she could have caught them if she wanted but she knew there would be no room in the car for all that elk meat on the ride home.

After contemplating her brash (rather ego-centric…maybe even narcissistic) statements, I decided to let it go and rather directed my energy into something more creative:

When we got back to the house and started to relax, I couldn’t believe what I saw outside.  The girl who nearly got lost in the wilderness nearly lost her tennis ball in the yard.  Good thing she has a big sister like me to look after her.

 

Best,

The Tempest

PSA: Bullying – even massive bull elk – is something NO ONE should ever engage in.  It may seem fun/funny at the time, but it almost always ends up with someone getting injured in one way or another.  And it is not right, Zoe.

Don’t Even Think It

So, you may have noticed that I haven’t gotten the Scribe’s attention much lately – at least as it relates to writing down my stories.  And as usual, Zoe and I have had a lot of adventures.  Two of which remain in rough-draft form on my site.  So likely, at some point, I’ll get him to polish those up and send them out – even if they are a bit off in timing.

For some reason, today he pulled out the computer and asked me if anything noteworthy happened today while he and my mother were at work.  And it so happens, Zoe and I did have a little adventure that I thought I’d like to share.

The day started out horribly.  Not only did the alarm clock go off while it was still dark outside – I still don’t understand this whole day-light savings time thing.  Then, apparently, Mom was also not so keen on getting up while the sun was down, so the whole alarm thing was turned off – which I don’t blame her for – but it limited our morning walk time.  And did I mention it was raining out?  Ugh.  Darkness all around us.  And rather than going back to bed and cuddling with us pups, they jumped in the car and off to work they went.  As I said, the gloom of the day encompassed us and the prospects of 8+ hours stuck in our house descended upon us like a cloud of discontent.

Luckily for Zoe, I am one inventive girl when it comes to creating opportunities to break out of these types of situations.  So what, on a bleak day, would I uncover to entertain the two of us?

Well, to skip to the chase, this is what awaited our parents when they arrived home:

You may not recognize this particular “fish bowl” looking thing.  To give you some perspective, this is where it normally sits next to our other treat jars:

You might notice that the jar was empty upon the return of my parents.  When the Scribe asked me what was on one of our Big Barker bed I thought maybe the bowl had been refilled so, like all smart dogs – of which I am one – I poked my nose in it again but alas there was nothing there.

And just like Zoe to try to steal my moment on camera.

The interesting thing about our adventure, is that not long ago, our Dad actually thought it was weird that given all our antics, we have left the treat jars alone.  He went one step further and mentioned this to our mother one time when we were not in the car – likely on the way to work.  How do I know this?  Let me just say: don’t even think it or I’ll know! 🙂

The Tempest