Whew – That Was One Disasterous Problem Solved!

Mostly True Memoirs

Whew - that was one disasterous problem solved!

Problem Solved!

We have a new neighbor.

They have three large, territorial dogs.

Those dogs have taken strongly against Blue.

They fling themselves against the wooden fence, barking wildly.

I swear, one of these days, they’re going to break through that barrier.

Since they’re a pack and Blue is solo, guess who will lose that fight?

I discussed all of this with Bob who poo-pooed my concerns.

He told me that we don’t even own the fence, it’s on their property.

I hope that thought brings him comfort after Blue and I are slaughtered.

The time came, however, when Bob saw for himself that the wooden slats practically bubbled out into an angry dog shape.

He went right outside to shore the fence up.

I’m still not confident that it’s secure.

So I bought an ultrasonic device that emits several different terrible sounds that only dogs can hear.

It’s supposed to stop them in their tracks.

And … it worked!

They barked, I pressed the button, and I obviously couldn’t hear a thing.

But all the dogs, including Blue, jumped away from the fence.

Whew – problem solved!



It Was Awful, But My Happy Dog Has No Regrets

Mostly True Memoirs

It was awful, but my happy dog has no regrets

No Regrets

The ice is starting to melt outside.

We let Blue out for her morning romp.

She returned inside, covered in mud.

Absolutely covered, from head to toe.

It was awful.

She’s in bad need of a grooming, but I put it off so she would have a thick, warm coat for the cold weather.

Now she has a thick, muddy, matted coat.

The weather is still really cold, so we couldn’t hose her off outside.

We had to put her in the bathtub.

It was awful.

Mud was everywhere.

It was like a mud blender went off, without the lid.

Blue had a blast.

She loved the warm water.

She basked in all of the attention.

She has absolutely no regrets.

Not a care in the world.

She’d do it again in a heartbeat, if we let her.

We won’t let her.

She’s going to the groomer next week.

After we dry out.



Why My Dog Blue Is The Best Dog Ever

Mostly True Memoirs

The best dog ever

She’s The Best Dog Ever

She’s the best dog ever.

My sweet Blue Dawg.

She loves a cuddle.

But only if she’s actively receiving some pats.

Once the pats stop, she’s outta there.

She just can’t seem to settle down quietly and snuggle.

In her previous life before we rescued her, somebody must have really scared her.

She gets very anxious and agitated and bolts away as quickly as possible.

I always let her go because I don’t want to stress her out.

But this weekend…

Well, this weekend she took a nap on my feet.

I was so excited.

I wanted to jump up and yell, “Look, look, look, she’s doing it!”

But I couldn’t do that because it would have spoiled the moment.

I let her take her nap and wake up and realize that she was still safe.

We’re making progress.

Soon, Blue is going to realize that a good book and a cozy snuggle on a long winter night is amazing.

Good girl, Blue, you’re the best dog ever.



Lessons From A Dog – It’s Not a Bad Way to Start The Day

Mostly True Memoirs

Lessons from a dog

Lessons From A Dog

Blue has come to expect a fervent and slobbery good morning kiss.

Every single day.

From each and every member of the household.

Enthusiastic leaping, wagging, and licking is a requirement.

From the dog, not necessarily from the humans.

She is wildly excited to greet each person as they awaken.

The family, on the other hand, is grumpy and delirious and hasn’t had any coffee yet.

Blue doesn’t care.

She demands a wholehearted, full-contact, good-morning wrassle.

And she always gets it.

To tell the truth, it’s not a bad way to start the day.

Unbridled happiness is her go-to mood.

We could learn some serious life lessons from a dog.



It’s Been Confirmed

Mostly True Memoirs

It's been confirmed

It’s Been Confirmed

It’s been confirmed.

Blue gets carsick.

If anyone needs me, I’ll be spending the rest of the day detailing my car.



It’s Such A Happy Gotcha Day

Mostly True Memoirs

Happy Gotcha Day to Blue

Happy Gotcha Day

I can’t believe it’s been a whole year.

Today is Blue’s gotcha day.

A year ago today we rescued the happiest girl in the world.

She had been abused, living in a cage, forced to breed.

Today she loves to sunbathe and chase rabbits and snooze on the sofa.

She’s living her best life.

And so are we.

We got her just two months after we lost Wrigley.

It seemed, on the one hand, too soon to get another pet.

But a house is so bleak and lonely without a dog.

Blue brought dog-joy back into our home.

Ninja is her favorite game.

She’s a black dog, and she blends into our black sofas.

Often, we can’t find her in plain sight.

When we hear her tail thump, we know she is hiding on the couch.

She also loves to torment our neighbor dogs.

They’ll all run up and down the fence, barking at each other.

Lately Blue has a new tactic.

She makes absolutely no noise, but she stealthily and silently runs up and down the fence, driving the other dogs insane.

She knows that when she barks I’ll call her inside, so now she does her tormenting in silence.

It’s the dog version of “I’m not touching you.”

I’ll bet she was a big sister in another life.

Blue is wildly happy every day, and it’s infectious.

You can’t help but be happy too, in the presence of so much joy.

Happy Gotcha Day, Blue!



That Darn Dog – Why I’m More Impressed Than Angry

Mostly True Memoirs

That darn dog

That Darn Dog!

That darn dog.

I made a very spicy stir fry for dinner.

And a batch of coconut macaroons.

Before dinner was ready, I got a call from the Grown Son.

He had locked his keys in the car.

Could I bring him the spare?

I set up the doggy barriers to the kitchen and left for a quick, 20-minute rescue mission.

When I got back home, I saw that the barriers were still intact.

“Whew,” I thought, “it’s all good.”

But then I took a second look.

Apparently that darn dog very gracefully scaled the doggy barriers without knocking anything down.

Very neatly, without dropping the pan, she ate the entire batch of very spicy stir fry.

And without dropping the baking sheet, she ate 20 coconut macaroons.

Then she very skillfully snuck back out of the crime scene, leaving the doggy barriers intact.

I was appalled, angry, and impressed all at the same time.

Mostly impressed.

I couldn’t have been so graceful if I had tried to do that.

We were in for a long night.

Sure enough, at 2:00 AM, she wanted to go out.

Once outside, she immediately struck up a hunting pose.

There was a rabbit.

Both of them stood frozen, staring each other down.

Having nothing else to do at that ungodly hour, I watched the action.

Or inaction.

“How long are they going to stare at each other?” I grumbled, realizing that I was equally involved in the staring match.

Eventually the rabbit hopped off.

Blue, with her belly still distended from the very spicy stir fry and 20 coconut macaroons, didn’t even bother to give chase.

All she could manage was to twitch her nose.

She woke me up again at 5:30.

It was obnoxious, but at least she wasn’t sick in the house.

I know, I know, I know, I could have put the dinner in the microwave for safekeeping while I was gone.

I could have put the cookies on top of the fridge.

I could have brought Blue with me.

Coulda, woulda, shoulda.

I thought the doggy barriers were enough.

I can’t wait for my knee to get better so we can get her back to her obedience class.



The Ultimate Excuse – The Dog Ate My Homework!

Mostly True Memoirs

The dog really did eat my homework!

The Dog Ate My Homework!

The Grown Son called me in a panic while I was out.

Blue ate one of your books,” he informed me.

The Grown Son knows that I am very sentimental about my books.

Uh oh.

Just this week, I had attended a book tour presentation and got an inscribed copy of Craig Johnson’s new release, Hell and Back.

I hope she didn’t eat that one.

I’d be mad.

“What book did she eat?”

“I can’t tell. She hardly left any scraps.”


Where was she when I was in school and needed a “the dog ate my homework” excuse?

I thought we were past this stage of training.

She hasn’t wrecked anything in ages.

The Grown Son scavenged through the debris field to figure it out.

It was Happy Go Lucky by David Sedaris.

I’ve attended many of David Sedaris’ book tours, and I have several signed volumes.

Luckily, this one wasn’t a signed edition.

I’m still not happy, but it was the least amount of damage the dog could have done.

The Grown Son scolded Blue who immediately peed herself.

Hopefully she learned her lesson and will never do that again.

I suppose I should be happy that my family is devouring literature.

Although this is not exactly how I envisioned it happening.



“Absolutely I Do,” Were Probably The Terms Of Their Agreement

Mostly True Memoirs

"Absolutely I Do," was probably the terms of that agreement

“Absolutely I Do.”

“Absolutely I do,” probably sealed that deal.

We have a life-size Wrigley statue that we keep just outside the back door.

During a recent torrential, record-breaking downpour, there was a little bunny taking shelter under the Wrigley shrine.

Blue was itching to chase it.

I’ll bet Wrigley’s spirit was really annoyed to be caught in this situation.

She hated rabbits as much as Blue does.

Providing shelter to the enemy would be a horrifying prospect.

However, now that I think about it, maybe Wrigley would be happy.

Because of that whole ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend’ thing.

The rabbits obviously hate Blue.

The dogs wouldn’t have liked each other either.

Wrigley was dignified and regal.

Blue is a doofus.

Or a Bloofus as we often call her.

Wrigley would have had no patience for Blue’s antics.

“Absolutely I do,” is what Wrigley probably said when the rabbit suggested the alliance.

Just like Pam said to Dwight on The Office.



Today Is The Perfect Day to Celebrate Blue!

Mostly True Memoirs

It's National Dog day!

It’s National Dog Day

Today is National Dog Day.

A day to celebrate Blue.

We’ve had her for nearly a year.

Blue is always happy.

She’s got a perpetual smile on her face, and her tail is always wagging.

And she’s always, always, always ready to play.

Blue loves to roughhouse with the Grown Son.

She knows, instinctively, not to be rough with me.

If I touch her while they’re playing, she immediately calms down.

When the Grown Son has had enough, he’ll beg me to make her stop.

But sometimes I pretend I don’t hear him.

It’s payback for all the times he doesn’t hear me asking him to do something.

Yep, Blue is a never-ending source of entertainment.