The Wide World of Wally

So, with my father gainfully unemployed at the moment, I thought I’d get more “Scribe-Time”.  However, this has not been the case the last couple of weeks as there appears to be a lot of “projects” related to moving into a new house.  For instance, making a frame for this new piece of art that they were finally able to get from our favorite gallery back in Illinois. 

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Given the size of the painting, there were no walls in which it would fit in our old house.  However, there was a perfect spot above the fireplace in our new living room.  But the painting and the bricks kept fighting (so we were told by our Autie K, the artist…. not sure my parents were sophisticated enough to know that…).  Anywhoo, off to the garage Dad went, and after a couple of attempts, he finally got it square, the right size, and properly joined so it wouldn’t fall apart (or at least that is the rest of us are hoping 🙂 ).

Then the other day, these arrived via the delivery services of FedEx. 

Boy am I glad the delivery service nice people are considered essential as they have brought us kibble, bones, snacks, boxes to shred…  We always greet them when they pull up and shout out “stay safe” and “thank you” while they are dropping our stuff off. They don’t always seem to appreciate it, and when my Mom is not on a Zoom call she tells us to “cram it,” which doesn’t seem very nice?

Zoe and I immediately noticed the initials on the labels:  FB.  Obviously, this stood for Fur Babies, or Fuzz Butts (that’s what our old dog walker called us).  Excitement galore!  Gallon sized wet food – and a lot of it!  This probably meant kibble was off our menu and we were going to move to all pureed steak, pork chops, and salmon!!!

Unfortunately, when the first can was open, the odor was off putting to say the least.  And the consistency was like watery milk.  YUCK!  Then Dad started slathering the brick wall in our kitchen with it and I remembered that we had gotten similar cans back at our old house and Mom and Dad spent days applying it to the walls.  People are indeed strange.

WE WERE SO NOT HAPPY…

Don’t let the grins fool you…

My point of this preamble is that I have not been given the time I require to tell my stories – which keep piling up.  But today, we will travel back almost 2 months to the first days we were in Car-lie-lee.

These were in the days before the fence got installed and we were able to run freely in our backyard (one or more stories will be forthcoming about those exciting days).  Aside from walks, and being tethered to those dang spikes in the ground, we were confined to the house – which included a screened in porch in which we were able to get outdoor sniffs and greet those delivery personnel I previously mentioned. Did I tell you previously I HATED that porch when we had to stay there while our boxes were delivered? Well, now that it is up to me to decide where to be it is my favorite spot! Love it!

On the second or third day of this routine, a furry little nose poked itself against the screen.  This got Zoe and I very excited to say the least.  The ensuing ruckus got the attention of my parents who were able to get a picture of this trespasser.  He quickly ran off our deck and around the back of our house – Zoe and I in fast pursuit which was hampered by our inability to go outside and still not being able to remember the exact layout of the house.  But we, did find him at our back door.  Then in the lower back bedroom.  Up to the “exercise” room.  To the front door.  Back to the porch.  To the front door again.  Then he disappeared around the back of the garage…only to appear at the back door again and then up to the porch.

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What a little spitfire.  If only we had a chance to give him a good sniff and properly introduce ourselves.  But he was gone before we had the chance. 

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We didn’t see him the next day and figured it was a once in a lifetime event – or maybe even a dream?  But the following day he was back and we re-enacted the routine of our first meeting (more or less), including him disappearing into the woods after 10-15 minutes of his arrival.  Still no official introductions and again we didn’t see him the next day.

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Then, one day while on a walk, out from behind a tree popped our new friend.  We all made our introductions in the way us dogs do, while Mom and Dad noticed a name sown into his collar.  They started calling him Wally so I am assuming this is similar to them calling me Tempi and my sister Zoe.  Wally joined us on our walk (Z and I on leashes, with him free to do what he wanted) until he caught the scent of a chipmunk – at which time he took off in the woods once again.

Subsequently, we found out where he lived – when he wasn’t running around the neighborhood.  We had a blast when he would visit and join us on our walks.  Then, all of a sudden, we stopped seeing him altogether and were worried the worst had happened to him. 

A few days later, we saw him in the window of his house – literally flipping out as we walked by.  Later we found out he had been gone for two days and suspect his parents decided Free Wally was not a great idea if they intended to have him a part of their pack for an extended period.  Turns out, the “scourge” of the neighborhood had been on a rampage for over a year (this according to the previous owner of our new abode; oh, and the parents of Chase, who also called Wally the scourge of the neighborhood after saying to her buddy Chase (for those of you in the know, not the rapper or the Chicago gator – “The new girls are here to see you!” He is an elderly gent who we are very worried about…).  We, however, miss the little imp.

More soon…hopefully.

In the meantime, be kind to each other people. We don’t see color. I know people see my black sister and think bad things about her. My parents are often shocked at what people say. But, honestly, you should look at who people and pups are. Ignore color. I love me, but I also really love you all. Please be good to you and each other. And most of all, Zoe loves Zoe.

The Tempest

Note: wordpress just updated their site – which is good – but if there are any quirks in this post, do not blame the editor (mom).

Br’er Tempi

So now that we (Zoe and I) are allowed to run off leash in our backyard – full story(ies) to come soon – there are times when she is a bit too much for me.  After a lap or two around the yard with Zoe chasing me or me chasing Zoe, I tend to peter out.  At which point I find refuge in these brambles on the south east portion of our fenced in area.

Luckily, Zoe isn’t as well versed in the stories of Uncle Remus and had no idea that I’d be safe in such entanglements.  What I didn’t realize until reading the wikipedia link below – which I pulled up as a reference for this blog –  is that there was a similar story in the American Cherokee tribal lore.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Br%27er_Rabbit

Goes to show you, there is something we can all learn – maybe even everyday if your mind is open to it – which mine is (open to more ways to be a brat, to be fair…)!

The Tempest

 

City of the Woods

“9] On the other hand, the road runs up to Carlisle, city of the woods, which, if it is less civil, is the more natural. It does well hold the earth together. It gets laughed at because it is a small town, I know, but nevertheless it is a place where great men may be born any day, for fair winds and foul blow right on over it without distinction. It has a meeting-house and horse-sheds, a tavern and a blacksmith’s shop, for centre, and a good deal of wood to cut and cord yet.   (ed. See Chapter 3, Sunday)”

 ‘A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers’

Henry D. Thoreau

On our Friday evening walk – which was last night – we met Steve.  He lives not far away and was trying to get our parents to buy his house (they complimented him on the nice state of his house, which he agreed was immaculate).  He has lived there 44 years, but since his wife is no longer with him, he wanted to spend time on The Cape – and possibly the outer banks of eastern Florida.  Although the house is absolutely adorable and more like what we lived in when we were in Illinois (which I’ve been told is “our” style) there was no way we were going to be moving again anytime soon – especially now the fence they installed seems to be working…but that is a story for another day.  And if you actually take the time to listen to these people moving stinks, apparently, but who listens to them?

Despite being bombarded by hordes of gnats, they stood there and talked to Steve for quite awhile.  During this time, we were told about this email group thing for Carlisle residents (and whoever else was interested) called City in the Woods.  I seemed to recall this phrase from some of my reading and so while Zoe jumped at imaginary rodents, tried to climb a tree for the same phantoms, and my parents chatted I lay down and had a deep think on where I had come across these words before.  Alas, I remembered – we are in Thoreau territory and it was likely from one of his essays.

(for more on my reading habits, see: https://montanamomentstrn.wordpress.com/2016/12/02/burn-after-reading/)

When we got home, my Dad looked up the email group and found the above quote from Henry D. just like I had thought.  The only problem I have with the passage is: “a place where great men may be born any day”…as it excludes dogs – and especially ones that have recently relocated to the city.  Namely, THE TEMPEST!!!!

But it got me thinking.  Maybe I need to spend more time by the side of a lake to contemplate some of the more serious issues of our times and the bigger philosophical questions that have yet been solved.  ‘Cause people, you have a lot of these right now, sans Hank for help so let me see what I can do..

Hank T., thank you for the inspiration.

The Tempest

Ah Yahd

So you saw our house, and now we will introduce some of the rest.  Our new house is situated on 2 acres (more or less) in a nice woody area – which, by the way, is also crawling with ticks – especially the near-by conservation land.  Luckily we (Zoe and I) are on flea and tick meds so if any get in our coat they generally don’t stay long.  For some reason, our parents are not on the same medication so they have found a few on themselves prior to the little devils taking hold.

But that isn’t really the point of this blog.  Instead it was all that green grass and trees in our yard (or “ah yahd”* if you want the real spelling of the phrase for around these parts).                                                   *this spelling was confirmed by Andy, our speech coach

I think the thought of all this space and the inherent smells within just about blew Zoe’s mind.But then the bad news was delivered to us:

“No off leash in the yahd.  Only off leash time is in the house or on the deck.”

What the…?

Look at all that prime running around space!  And we are tied to a couple of stakes in the ground?  Totally UNFAIR!  Why did we even move to a place with more land if we are shackled in place like a horse tied to a hitching post?  Yeah our yard was kinda on the small side back in Deerfield, but at least we got to chase one another over the seat wall, around the shrubs, down the stone path, and best of all, tearing across the grass leaving chucks of sod flying out behind us.

On plus side, we did find that we have a really cool hangout – nearly a tree house.  Shortly after we discovered it, our parents “carpeted” it with cushions which makes it that much cozier.  But at this point in time, we could only visit it while on our leashes and closely under the watchful eye of our parents.

But that would soon change…

The Tempest

 

Moving In

After getting out of the car at our new place, we immediately went into the house to explore all the rooms and new spaces – that is after we had to pose at the front door with Dad.  Oh, and after about 3 minutes of our parents trying to get the key to open the door.  Unfortunately, there are no photos of Zoe and myself rolling our eyes at their incompetence.  But imagine away – we were awesome in our drama.  Oh.  You should have seen them trying to work the stove!  Ha ha ha bah ha ha!

Finally, we gained access to our new digs but we immediately noticed none of our stuff was there!  Hopefully Mom packed enough food to get us through this unexpected snafu in planning (I know Dad said she packed 2 weeks of food for them and 4 for us, plus lots of toilet paper (what?), but we didn’t believe it).  On the plus side, it gave us a great chance to romp around the house and all the hard wood floors with the extra advantage of echos as there were no noise damping objects in the place!  Good times!  This place rocks!

Then we discovered two really cool features of this so called Mid-Century Modern Duck House (editors note: the real name of the style is “Deck House” but Tempi’s mother preferred Duck House…and just as an aside, the wine being made from kits in this house will all bear the label “Duck House Garden Cellars”).  Try Googling “duck house paint. ”  Hilarious!  Anyhoo, the first was a water bowl with nice, cool, refreshing water that was pre-filled:

Second was a space much like our crawl space in which Zoe and I could pretend we were Giant Dogs like the ones we’ve recently seen in neighboring yards (more on that another day).

Then Zoe discovered in another room one of those things on the ceiling which Dad set off back in Illinois which almost broke her…

After all this, and a walk around the short block – which is MUCH longer than our old block…this one Sammy would have probably not been able to get around in those last weeks/months before he went to college.  Then bedtime!  But we still don’t have our dog beds or the other thing we usually spend the night on – which come to think of it is also a dog bed, but one the humans share more often than not and call it just a “bed.”  So we suffered through another night of roughing it sleeping on pads on the floor.  Similar to our old house we got the pads and the humans had the floor.  Still was not up to our usual standards.  To put it otherwise, this, to those thinking we had it pretty easy, was no “Glamping!”

But, after a rough night of only about 10 hours of sleep for me and Zoe, the same big truck arrived at our new home (about 24 hours too late if you ask me)…And it was great to see the driver Ray again!  He loved us.

…at which point the unloading began.  Did I mention we have a lot of crap?  And again, there were comments made about the amount of stuff we had (what???).

However, Zoe and I were not allowed to participate while the guys unloaded the truck with the exception of lunch in which we got to hang out with Ray who was especially good at giving rubs and pets.  He wasn’t always naturally good about 6″ but the dance my Mom ensued to ensure 6 ” was hilarious.  Instead, we were relegated to the screened in porch and later in the day, the deck – after Dad “fortified” it.  BTW – being trapped in the porch meant we got to have lunch with Ray (just to be clear).

When all the boxes, furniture, and other random items (plant pots, shepherd hooks, pots, dog food bins!, pots, solar lamps for the garden, potted plates, etc.) were removed from the truck, we were finally allowed into the house at which point I was allowed to review their actions of the day – criticism at this point being useless since they already screwed up so many things (which I could have prevented had I not been cast aside like some kind of pet).

But I did find the paper they wrapped everything in pretty darn comfortable.  That is until our beds were set down in front of the fireplace.  Yeah, it wasn’t burning wood at the time, but we got a sense of peace and hominess after our experiences in northern New Mexico.  My Dad set us up as a “double-wide” which we have loved ever since.

And shortly thereafter, our previous pack members (even the ones across the aisle from us canines) found their place on the walls which made this feel even more like home.

Take care and stay safe.  More soon,

The Tempest

Welcome to Carlisle

Or as we like to pronounce it “Car-lie-lee” – although that is SO not how people around here (which is just west of Bahston) talk.  The video at the end of this post is mostly the end of our journey east – and yes there are roads, cities, and states east of Michigan – which was news to me.  Our multiple day drives in the past always were westward bound.  But maybe I should start this story a few days prior to our move.

In fact, things started getting a little weird even earlier that that by a month or so.  First, Dad filled a whole bunch of boxes with some a lot of stuff he had previously crammed into the crawl space in our basement.  Well, even before this he and Mom filled our recycle bin and those of our neighbors with a lot of stuff…Then these two guys came by one day and took away most of the furniture in the basement and all those boxes.  Then Dad’s behavior got even more random – he dragged carpet into the basement and covered the entire floor with this stuff.  This after my Auntie K and Uncle S came and helped frame the stairs and suggested painting under the stairs black… to make a fun cubby for potential kids (what???).  The morning after the carpet event and painting the risers upstairs (Mom did this while Dad watched basektball, a thing that still happened then), we were mopped out of the house while two people visited it to see if they would like to buy it.

Then two weeks or so prior to arriving in Carlisle, my parents stopped going to work even though they were still spending most of their time on their work computers and not going outside very much except when taking us for walks – which was happening a lot more frequently which was good news for Zoe and I.  Come to think of it, this behavior has continued for the entirety of the time so far in Massachusetts.  One downside of this new normal, is that our good friend who usually took us for walks around noon no longer stops by and we didn’t even say goodbye.  I am told this is due to a global pandemic which is effecting the entire human species (thus the word pandemic) and even some of my kind – but I’ve already been over a lot of this material in my previous installments of this blog…been so long since I had the Scribes attention* I had forgotten where I left off 🙂 (*more on this later).

Back to the carpet / mop out story… around this time, some people we had never met before came by our house a few times and even were in our house when we returned once from a trip to the dog park.  This was unusual since one of my parents are usually around when “strangers” are in our house but no one seemed scared or surprised so Zoe and I just greeted them like any other visitors with kisses and sniffing.  Come to think of it, the last time we saw these same people Mom had just finished mopping her way out of the house and they pulled up to our house just as we were pulling out of our driveway – me with Dad, Zoe with Mom – and there was a strange tearful exchange just before we pulled away (and we haven’t been back since).

Sometime between the two meetings with that couple, a number of guys came into our house and started putting the rest of our stuff in boxes which they eventually crammed into this huge truck thing:

I started getting concerned that they might forget something so I made sure they knew these were important to include if they really were taking all of our stuff (and btw – there was a lot of stuff in that house! Only a small fraction of which was Zoe’s and mine).  Can you believe one guy said we had more stuff than his kids combined?  No way.  We have nothing!

At one point, Zoe called me over to show me that she had discovered that those guys took all of our food too!

This was disconcerting to say the least and after which Zoe kept her eye on everything going out of the house.

Then Dad took us aside, explained that our Mother packed enough food for us to survive until we were re-united with our food bins (times 4 just in case).  We made him shake on it which put us once again at ease.

In fact, we shook off our traumatic experience and discovered that an empty, carpeted basement was a perfect wrestling area – why would we ever leave this place now that they finally really fixed it up?

Well it turns out, the guys also took all of our dog beds including the big one in the bedroom we occasionally share with our parents (they call it a bed but what do they know?).  So for one long night, we all slept on the floor – not even a couch to jump up on to get a bit more comfy.  It is true that even with all the beds we will every once in awhile sleep on the hardwood floor but that is by choice not because of a lack of options.  Therefore, the house where we have spent the majority of our time since joining this pack lost its appeal (no beds, no food bins, no cabinet full of treats, no crates to cozy into when things get too crazy)…

So, as I mentioned previously, we all piled into our two cars and headed east.

“Welcome to Massachusetts” and “Entering Carlisle” the signs said.

And here we set up our new den – which has taken seemingly forever.  First, we had to unpack all those boxes (did I mention those people have a lot of stuff?  Tho they were great about bringing our important stuff in the car.  I guess we will keep them…).  Then, since the house is SO different from where we lived in Illinois we had to figure out were to put everything – and then remember where we put it when we would need a certain item.  For instance, as part of leaving their old jobs, my parents had to download their personal files from their work computers while representatives from HR watched.  The plan was to just transfer them to a USB thumb drive…but where had they been stored? No idea.  So they ended up going old school (and I mean old school) by “burning” a CD.  Did I mention they had acquired a lot of crap while living in Deerfield for 18+ years?  And then there is trying to figure out where all the artwork should go and then a lot of measuring and hammering.  *In short, this is the primary reason the Scribe has not been available for helping me with the blog until now. But this doesn’t mean we haven’t had a lot of adventures I would like to relate to you if I can keep his attention.

The Tempest

…and now a little something from Zoe: