News has emerged that Trouble, Leona Helmsley's canine heir to a $12 million trust, has been receiving threats. Some menacing knothead has reputedly spouted: "I'm gonna kidnap the dog. I need the $12 million." He must be planning to buy lottery tickets.
This may affect my own estate planning. Clearly Pappy is going to need some heavy armament to protect our vast t-shirt empire when I'm gone. Maybe some tanks and stuff.
Just in time for the holiday shopping frenzy, here's the music video for those of you who missed it last year. For the rest of you it should become a tradition, like watching Charlie Brown or Rudolph.
As I run the water for Pappy's holiday bath, I'm reminded of the great happenings during his last bath. As I was turning off the water for that bath, I realized I didn't have a towel for him. I had used a ball to lure Pappy upstairs, so I idly tossed it into the tub and walked over to the linen closet. When I came back, Pappy had mysteriously gotten into the tub all on his own. Wondrous. Of course then he spent the entire bath straining to hang his dripping head over the edge of the tub like he always does, but you can't have everything.
There's this and another new Pappy painting over at the art blog as I rev up for entering a show. I found out I have an extra week to prepare... woohoo. Today was a rough day at the dog park-- several snarls between dogs, a few terrorized pups, and a poor woman had her legs cut out from under her by a stampede. Thankfully Pappy was good, but then some twerp dog snatched his ball and kept wandering in circles for a half hour. He wasn't even playing keepaway with Pappy, just compulsively gnawing on the ball while Pappy looked a bit lost.
For those of you who don't know, long-time dog blogger and "tripawd", Finnegan, seems to be on the retirement track regarding his blog. Can't say I haven't had similar thoughts about putting Pappy's blog up on blocks, but so far stuff keeps coming up for me to write about. Fortunately Pappy remains peppy and healthy through it all, which doesn't sound as true for brave Finnegan. Good dog, good boy.
As Pappy and I were wrapping up our morning walk and headed towards home I heard a rustle high up in the branches of a huge oak followed by falling debris. When the debris resoundingly struck the tarmac more than 40 feet below, it started skittering around before resolving itself into two squirrels. One of them tore off, but, as a slowly strangling Pappy and I approached, the other just started racing in circles. I suspect he wasn't entirely well, but he would have been substantially less well if I had let Pappy any closer.
When I told my wife this story, she said she had wondered why Pappy was later sitting in the back yard staring up into the trees. I guess he figures the squirrels are finally ripe.
On seeing Pappy photos and paintings, some of you have commented on what a perfect model Pappy must be. I just wanted to take a moment to correct that misimpression. In point of fact, the photo at left is much more typical of a Pappy photo session. To counteract this, my secret is volume, volume, volume... ridiculous numbers of photographs and retakes, followed by time in editing programs recropping everything. You could say that my main inspiration for the oddball angles in the paintings was that most photos I have of him come out like that.
Approaching the end of our second year with Pappy, it's somewhat reassuring to now know that his bouts of insanity are seasonal. During the summer, Pappy is really a very good and relaxed leash walker. The minute we have a cold snap, it's like being dragged by a bumper car-- he's all over the place stopping and starting, hauling me hither and yon. Thankfully this only lasts the first few minutes. But during that time, if I give him the least provocation to break into a run, look for the guy bumping along behind the dog.
I remember last year when all of this was going on, I was convinced that all of his training efforts were breaking down during the first cold snap. Now I know I just need to play fetch with him for a couple of minutes to get him warmed up and calmed down. If he's chilly, maybe he needs a big old snowsuit.
Autumn has returned to our fair district, and, despite the drought, the leaves are just beginning to fall. Pappy and I are just beginning to encounter piles of leaves blocking the sidewalk on our morning jaunts, and he hauls me over so he can wade through up to his elbows. He's doing his dachshund imitation.
I'm putting up more Pappy art at my art blog as I ready to enter a couple of shows. And I'm cranking out some free postcard drawings and paintings throughout the month.
Pappy has developed quite a following at the dog park. A lot of the meeker dogs like to chase him back and forth as he chases the balls-- it's a lower risk proposition than engaging the other dogs, since Pappy rarely registers on their presence. Today there were two or three circling around him as he raced back and forth, like satellites caught in his wake.
Meanwhile back at the ranch, we replaced the living room couch and the carpet yesterday. The couch won't affect Pappy much, but that rug had a nice thick pad. It was always his first destination when I handed him his morning carrot before we headed to work. We now have one of those thin Flor rugs, and it's got me a bit worried. He moved to the living room when we got rid of the padded carpet on the porch, and now I'm afraid he's just going to spend his life in bed.
This is Pappy waking from an evening nap. I guess using the flash was probably a little unkind, but it helps to see all the way up his nose.
Yesterday morning I went out to the backyard to get Pappy, but, again, no Pappy. I whistled around for a while, and finally heard an excited yelp from the neighbor's yard. When Pappy saw me, he darted behind the neighbor's shed but came back out after rustling around for a second. He scrabbled on the fence and I lifted him back over. I then looked around behind our shed and discovered, after fourteen years in our house and a year and a half with Pappy, that there is an eight inch gap between the fences of our two back neighbors behind the sheds. My wife said she kept glimpsing a strange dog taking a dump in our yard, and I guess that must have been neighbor-dog Scarlett crossing from the other direction. I guess I have a chore for this weekend.
Well, I'm off and running for Nablopomo at the other blog. If you stop by today, I promise an exciting opportunity. Exciting, but no dogs.
Here's