Making Murphy Tough

Violet is a child who really should have a dog.  Unfortunately, that dog would be Ellie, the HuggaMutt.  Our Ellie is middle aged--nine--and just not up to the rigors of a rambunctious, to say the very least, toddler.

Right now, the focus of her aggressions and impulses is Little Brother Murphy.  Violet throws herself at and onto Murphy any chance she gets. 

Interestingly enough, Murphy doesn't mind.  He just sucks it all up.

On the other hand, when Ellie wants to "kiss" Murphy, usually when the little guy is sticky from a recent meal or snack, the little rug-rat often gets a very unhappy look on his face.  We usually rescue him before he dissolves in tears.

Not so with Big Sister.  We all know from past experience that Big Sisters have a job to do; they must toughen up their little sibling.

So far, all is well with the world.

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Little Pond

Don't even ask!

The hot and cold, but very wet summer is giving way to a cool, rather wet fall.

This makes for breezy, comfortable days and cool, just-made-for-sleeping nights.

This does not make for pretty, multi-colored foliage.  Green or brown, or, if we are lucky, yellow leaves are falling.  Everything else is still green.

I even go out without my camera.  Just can't remember to bring it, somehow.  This is from my cellphone.

Pooh.

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Little Pond

Poor baby.

Broken Dew Claw.

Four weeks restricted activity.  Plastic baggie to go outdoors.  But, she's only got a tiny chip broken off the carpal area.

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Little Pond

Hot, wet summer equals...

...an unusual abundance of apples;

Apples hanging in clusters like grapes.

The whole tree is just full.

They look wonderful, but unfortunately they are inedible.

We don't use any commercial pesticides, because of our pets.

They look like little gems hanging there. 

Both trees are covered from top to bottom.

We can't allow people to pick them, because of the liability in case of injury.  We do allow our neighbors to collect the ones from the ground.  They feed them to horses, or use them to establish hunting areas for deer.  We can only hope that they all fall soon, because there is a time limit involved.  Hunters are not allowed to create such lures during the hunting season.  Only the state can do that, for purposes of thinning the herds.

Kind of an ugly reality, but really necessary up here.  Best to hunt them.  Have you ever seen or heard a starving deer?  Ask anyone who lives in the country up here; they have, and it's pitiful.

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Little Pond

Always remember.

I don't like "never forget"  because that would infer "never forgive."  If we are a big enough nation to forgive and rebuild Japan after Pearl Harbor, then perhaps we can look forward to making new allies of old enemies.

We are spending today away from the News Media and with our family.

Speaking of family, my BlogSister Digital Karen stepped in immediatedly to undo the damage done by the "updated Blogger interface."  A new look and a new feel.  And there will be a new blogroll, too.

It's just beautiful!  Take a bow, Karen.  Thank you again!

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Little Pond

Happy Birthday, Freddie!

By now, I have forgiven you for dying so young.  You are alive every time I play your songs.  Nevertheless, I'm still holding a grudge against you for not sharing your condition.  So much could have been done;  you might still be among us.

At least we have your music and we have your videos.  Thanks, Freddie.

Still your loving fan,

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And now on a lighter note:

I call this picture:  Don't make me choose!

And apropos of being a Grandma.

Back to normal

Pat's Pond was briefly hijacked by a URL-selling company.   Fortunately, these attacks have been reported to BlogSpot.  Another blogger simply looked for the additional garbage among the HTML in the template.

I searched for those idiots by their url, and sure enough, there it was nestled comfortably in my code.

Ripped it out by the roots.

Jerks.  Everyone be warned.  The correction is simple and can be done right in Blogger.

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Not again?!!!

My little buddy has once again had an unfortunate tussle with a local swamp kitty.  We know that there is a huge, positively venerable skunk that forages for grubs in our lawn, but a few nights ago, there had been no sign of it.  Ellie needed to pee before retiring for the night.  I had already gone to bed.

Fifteen minutes out the door slams open and the unmistakable scent of neighborhood polecat wafted in.  My friend came in, tail between her legs and guilt written all over her face.  Never have I popped so quickly out of bed!

In a flash she was being bathed in Dawn dish detergent, then a mixture of dog wash, baking soda and peroxide.  Lather; rinse; repeat.  Still a tad stinky, but no problem:  she can go to the river in the morning!

Uh, oh.  River isn't deep enough even to cover a dachshund:

I should have known that, too.  Earlier we had gone "fishing" down near Brand Park.  I do not go into the Chemung unless it's to rescue somebody or some pet;  I can't count on my swimming skills and wading isn't my forte with MS-disabled legs.

Three days of lather-rinse-repeat, and Ellie now must go back to her other home, stinky or not.

As for Little Pond, well, we are laundering all the linens, spraying the furniture, and will be washing the carpets today and tomorrow.

Pets are a wonder diversion!

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Horsey

The scene is my daughter's birthday party.  A little jello--red, naturally--spills on the porch carpet.

Grammy kneels down to clean up the goop, before it should stain.  A hopeless cause.

The result:

Not so great for a sprained back, but Grampa Randy snatched her up into his arms before there could be any damage.

After he shot the photo, of course.

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Little Pond

Yes, but...

This is all I'm going to say about the Casey Anthony verdict:
The jury could not acquit on circumstantial evidence.  I only sporadically watched the "show" and never saw anything but circumstantial evidence presented by the prosecution.

Personally, it seems to me that it was the best job of stalling ever done to sandbag the local authorities.  Just enough to thoroughly corrupt the evidence.  So now we may never know.

But the jury did their job.  Same as with OJ.

Lay off, armchair justices.

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Little Pond

Mr. and Mrs. Merganser at the Chase-Hibbard Dam

Not just the mergansers, either.  Our local fishermen came out in droves to enjoy the shallows and catch a few bass.

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Bad dream, good ending

If a scary dream ends well, does that make it a good dream?

Last night I dreamed I attended some sort of somber function, and we had to check our belongings.   When I was ready to leave, I was given my purse.  Then the checker, who was a man, said, "We couldn't find your dog."  Never mind that I hadn't brought her along.

I was furious and frantic, and asked them to help me find Ellie.  They were polite but firm:  if she'd gotten out of the building, they couldn't help me.  I set out to find her myself.

It was one of those neighborhoods, mostly businesses and few pedestrians, that had seen better days.  Everyone was very nice, and kept pointing to different places she might have gone.  I went up and down the streets, calling and calling for her.  Nighttime was falling early, as it does in city areas surrounded by tall buildings.

In the end, I began to check into the alleys, and sure enough, just as soon as I shouted "Ellie!" she came from around a corner.  Then she jumped into my arms and I felt a flood of relief.

And that was it.  I woke and could feel the HuggaMutt pressed against my legs.

Here's the little heroine of my story, standing on a high river wall.  I'm afraid of heights and won't go close enough to get a good perspective.  Ellie is also slightly acrophobic, but it would seem that four legs make one feel more secure.  The water is some 20-30 feet (6-9 meters) below.

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Little Pond

Doe or What?

I got a series of shots of this critter Saturday morning.

Are we looking at a very young male or nursing doe?

The rest of the shots are here.

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Best (or worst) "Engrish" Comment So Far!

Do you give birth to a pet? I in effect excited when this article comes to my attention. To a great extent captivating:
[url=http://]How to be sure you are giving no greater than the finest for your dogs?

Absolutely nothing to do with my "Downtown" blog, naturally.  Bad thing is, I think I understand what they are trying to say...

Does it get any better than this?

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I guess these are some sort of weed, but I don't recognize them.  I was walking with Ellie on the riverbank and was stopped short by the sweet scent.  Anybody recognize these?

Double click on the photo for an extreme enlargement.

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