Goodbye Kimo sweetie.

Song of the day: “Ordinary day” by Vanessa Carlton.

What to say, what to write? It is one of those days again that my brain hardly functions, and I can barely remember what I did an hour ago, let alone yesterday.

The fact that this very morning we had to go to the vet to Euthanize old Kimo, (red haired husky) doesn’t help the matter much. It was not really unexpected, all things considered. She’s been with us since ’99 or ’98 even, in fact she came to us the same day old Iris did, and led a good long life, in particular for a husky.
The vet wasn’t at all surprised when we arrived with both Kimo and Akata (the latter needed his vaccination) and discussed our options with her.
Muscle tissue was already low on her, Kimo’s hips were shot, her eyesight was half of what they could be, and all things together, with medication and such we might have been able to prolong things a bit, but would have made life only more uncomfortable for her.
In the end, after going through the motions for Akata (also a husky) the dreaded decision was once again made leaving us with another pack member gone. So hard to say goodbye.

It always threatens to make me sad, but what is the use, really? This loss too will wear, and then life will continue on. As it should, I guess.

It is a dreary day, which suits the events with which it started, I would say. The sky is overcast and there are times when we are completely in the clouds, not allowing me to see further than the nearest tree at the end of my terrace. Weather like this makes me lethargic and down, so I don’t if I’ll be good company here today. Hah.

Okay, let’s get down to business before I get as gloomy as the weather. Later today we should get the washing machine back, so that should be all fine within no time whatsoever.
What did we do yesterday? Not a clue here, but I do know that the weather was absolutely wonderful.
There was gardening, of course, because there is no way in heck that I was going to spend it inside.

The first cherry tomatoes in the greenhouse are turning red, yay. They’re delicious, in particular with a leaf of basil, parsley and a stem of chives. You just wrap the green around it and stuff it in your mouth. Gawd, if only I hadn’t eaten the last one yesterday, I could go down there right now and…

But anyways, edits have been going a little bit bad these past couple of days. Stuff of ordinary life got in the way, and edits, therefore got the bad end of it. Meaning that project wise remarkably little got done. We manage to ad another row of rocks to the wall yesterday afternoon, so in that regard things are going well. And last night we did manage another trip to get rocks, which are always low in stock once we start on the masonry part.

Tenant’s been a bit distracted of late, but this morning she was really looking forward to watching the wedding of Kate Middleton and Prince William. I’m glad to see that she likes it, even though I can’t really see the attraction. Ah well, to each her own.

I should get to work, because what with yesterday’s distractions I really should get some writing/editing down. Hopefully I have something more interesting to write about the next time, eh?

Bummed...literally, that is

Song of the day: “Summer Holiday” by Cliff Richard. Talk about oldies. Jeez. It’s been ages since I really listened to this song, but apparently I still remember the lyrics well enough. Hah.

A busy few days, and since I cheated with Chaos’ day, I have four days to catch up on, don’t I? (Not that anyone is keeping track, but what the heck.)

First of all, the bearings (inner ones) of the washing machine gave the spirit. I suspect that we loaded the thing to heavy, meaning that we had to get a repair dude coming over. Had to wait all weekend too, considering the holidays, but Jeff, that’s his name came by as agreed upon…I had to go to the top of our drive sweep to wave him down because we are so friggin remote that he missed the turn twice. But anyway, at first the problem appeared to be a safety pin, because when he took it out the racket had stopped for some reason, but then, after he’d gone, the infernal racket started again, and he promised to come pick it up the next day. He did, and today we got the news that it’s going to take ‘till Friday to fix it. For little over a hundred bucks. Which is a lot, but doable in the end.
Luckily we have a spare machine because otherwise we’d be without clean clothes already. Hah.

There was gardening, naturally. Watering plants wasn’t necessary, but there were weeds to pull as always, the garden pit to empty of rainwater, and herbs to plant. Since I really like basil way too much I sowed another six pots of them. Yay!

What with my bum knee…yes, it is seriously bum again, I really should be more careful, darn it…I am obliged to take things a little easy again. Yep. No more rock hauling (not as much anyway) wheelbarrowing sand, gravel and clay down (only one or two, really) and no more wood lugging (just one little trip last night). And that while I had planned to start Kick boxing again the other day…blast it. This so friggin’ boring. It leaves very little activities that I am allowed to do…but I did get around to washing the Land Rover this morning. Yay! It is looking all nice an shiny again. Heck, we even did some of the inside while we were at it.

We did work on the wall again a couple of days ago, so that is looking well at least. We got it to a height now where we’re not as scared for “crashing” stuff anymore. So, we’ll have a bit of time to build it now.

Edits are going slow but steady. I am two more (paper) pages away from the end, while big brother is about one chapter behind me. Since we don’t manage more than four or five pages on the computer anyways, it doesn’t really matter. Ideas of the new story are haunting my brain, so that’s good. It means I’ll have something to dive into when I get on the post WIP blues. I am dreading that, by the way. I always hate finishing with something, even though I will undoubtedly have to reread the first three chapters (at the very least) again before we can send the actual manuscript out.

Ooh, yesterday I made spinach quiche, which worked out really, really well. *sigh* I finally got the gas oven temperature pat, and I didn’t burn any of it for a change…same as the apple pie recently…and the over dish that was absolutely delicious. Gawd I need to make that again soon, because it was…my mouth is watering again, darn it!

Okay, different subject please.
Weather-wise things are gradually improving. Weird thunder storms off and on, pouring rain, but more and more sunshine too, which has me ecstatic in a way. I love this weather. The fresh breeze, the hot burning sun. If only I didn’t have to take it easy on my bum knee, then we’d be working the wall right now…Blast!…or at least later today. But no! Stupid bloody knee.

Knight II’s stump tail is almost completely healed now, yay, and strangely enough his foot is also looking better, and the cut he had on his front paw (the one that happened during the fight the other day) is gradually closing as well. Dax’s ear looks a little ragged, but otherwise it’s closed. Thankfully.

Well, I’ve got more edits to do, and…the usual. Gotta go.

A day of Chaos

Song of the day: “Pure Intuition” by Shakira. The Spanish version is cool too, but since I barely know the lyrics to that one, I think that everyone is more than grateful that it is the English version going around in my head. Hah.

So let’s do something different today. I often talk about my dogs, whine about them, marvel at them and Gawd knows what else, but I also frequently imagine what they would think and say, if I were able to hear him. In my head it is always hilarious, so let’s see if I can get it out on the proverbial paper here, and share.



A day of Chaos. (4-year-old, male, Basset Hound.)




My day always starts incredibly early. I know what you’re thinking, what does a gorgeous dog like him need to do that is no necessary that he lets it interrupt his beauty sleep? Well, let me just tell you.
Even I, the gorgeous one, need to earn my keep. Though I do of course realize that the occasional attention I deign to bestow upon my caregiver should be adequate, I am a fair dog, and feel obliged to do my fair share.
But I am drifting, aren’t I? Where was I? Ah yes. My days starts incredibly early. It is often in the earliest hours of morning, usually well before dawn, that I hear something. My incredibly sensitive hearing will pick up some (for others) indistinct sound in the distance and hone in on it like the mighty hunter that I am. I raise my head off my pillow open my mouth and respond to the sound with my very acoustic howl. I have a beautiful voice, if you must know. Deep and resonant, and I do try to practice frequently.
I am proud to say that I can hold my own during this early morning song, designed to let the rooster down the mountain know that I do not appreciate his disturbance. I let nothing divert me from keeping my voice clear and strong. I have even managed to not lose tone when my caregiver prods me in my side, and mumbles for me to (quite vulgarly) “shut my trap”. She cannot understand urgency of my call; she is merely human after all.
Not the first, nor the second time, does the silly human appreciate my efforts, in fact, she goes as far as grabbing me around my impressive chest and dragging me up to the head end of the bed (which is my preferred spot, mind you) and pulls me close. Knowing that my beautiful singing will only upset her, and make her grumpy, I do often decide to hold my tongue and settle down for a few more hours of sleeping. Beauty such as I possess does not come without a price.
With the dawning of day, the other four legged creature that share my lair, begin to stir and become restless, and when the morning alarm goes off, I raise my head to blearily gaze that the black horse-like creature that starts pounding on, and off the bed. Impatiently he waits for our caregiver to get out of bed, even when it is not yet time to get up, and throws up far more fuss than he’s worth. I of course tell him so, growling softly as I elegantly turn of and settle my jowls on top of our writhing caregiver’s naked face. Though her coordination needs some improvement, she often flops around like a fish of some kind, if you ask me, she carefully rearranges my impressive form in the center and sidles off my bed.
That is when the growling, barking and shouting starts, mostly. Those pesky Labradors, jumpy Beagle and that crazy horse-like creature do not have a clue about the peace and quiet a gentleman like I needs in the early morning. Luckily they are out and about within just a few minutes, allowing me to stretch out and rub myself gently awake on the tumbled sheet.
Resting my eyes occasionally, yawning, and stretching some more, I lounge on my bed and look at my caregiver with patient insistence. It usually takes her a while to understand, but in the end she does understand and carefully assists me to the floor.
Rested and in good spirits I head outside to do my business, and sniff out the air for new scents. There is always some new trail to discover, different creatures to track and…
“Chaos! Come one.” I look up at the interruption that always comes at an untimely moment and wag my tail to let caregiver know that I am still busy. She doesn’t understand, she is merely human after all, and keeps repeating, “Come on. Come on.” She really must learn that I will not be rushed through my morning rituals, and continue to track my latest prey up the rocky slope.
“Gorgeous!” I raise my head again, blink over at the two-legged creature gesticulating at me and ponder the suggestion. “Dude. Give me a friggin’ break. Get your butt inside. Come on my gorgeous.” Finally I sigh, and casually start making my way down the incline towards where caregiver has opened the courtyard gate.
While the pesky Labradors, beagle and horse-like creature, dash around like chickens without heads, wasting precious energy on going thrice the distance, with far more noise than necessary, I head on inside with a jaunty trot and aim for the kitchen to see if there is any kibble lying about. Ah, there is a another tasty morsel, ripe for the picking and…hey, what is that?
I swivel my head around and see caregiver open the refrigerator. Hmmm. Cheese. I saunter over and peer up as I calculate the distance. Not yet. I will wait until she puts it in my reach on the counter.
Patiently, not at all like the ill-behaved mutts crisscrossing around me, I follow at a slight distance, and know that the cheese has warmed enough for consumption when caregiver leaves the bite-sized block right there on the cutting board.
Elegantly, and easily I raise up onto my hind-legs, and slide my jowls over the conveniently smooth surface of the kitchen counter. With my front paws braced against the foot holds (placed there for my climbing ease, of course) on the drawers, I take my just share of breakfast and withdraw from the busy herd watching my catch enviously. They are so jealous that they are not considered as important as I to get such a treat.
“What the h…” I pay little heed to the outraged exclamation behind me, followed by “Chaos! Where the heck are you?” My usual petting in the morning will just have to wait until I have finished my meal on this peaceful spot in the courtyard.
And thus, after just a short nap, my day begins for real. Though I could of course opt to stay in my lair (I often do) and catch up on my much needed sleep, I do sometimes enjoy heading out into the lower yard to scent out different creatures and observe the ludicrously misbehaving herd (they think themselves a pack, of all things) from up close. The silly, though absolutely lusciously curved, Labradors will rut around in the dirt. They have no pride. I would never lie in the dirt, it would be murder for my beautiful white and gold fur, thank you very much. I spent hours grooming myself. Which reminds me…I need a massage. Where was that wonderful tree, with the scented leaves. Ah there, at the bottom of the path. I saunter over there, careful not to let the horse-like creature see me, and begin may daily massage. It is pure bliss I tell you, the gentle stroking of the leaves over my spine and sides. I could do this all day, just slowly, oh so slowly, making my way through the swaying branches. It soothes me, makes my fur shine with good health, and makes me sleepy.
After a short nap the noisy herd is once again on its way upward, following their two-legged masters like the mindless ninnies they are. I follow at a more leisured pace, howling at the herd to keep their traps shut, and keep my tail up straight so they know to give me wide birth. The horse-like creature is staring at me again, so I give him a good barking before I head over to my caregiver and hit her shin with my fore paw.
I have trained her well, and she leans down to pat my head and hug me. Today I even let her raise me up on my back paws for a good rubbing. After a minute or so of crooning and petting, I’ve had enough and trot up to the clearing where I may lie in the sun, and rejuvenate for an hour or two.
Howling awakens me from my slumber, and like the well-trained hunter I am, I join in on this instinctual expression of song and rhythm. It sounds beautiful, and the loud whistles and shouting for more from the two-legged creatures that provide me with food, heightens our pleasure. It is on moments such as these that I feel an intimate connection with these animals who think themselves true dogs. They aren’t of course. I am a dog, and they could never reach such a lofty status.
I slowly allow my voice to wind down, looking at caregiver who is berating the herd for the noise they’re making (much deserved too. That half-breed Rotweiler is deaf as a bat and completely out of tune) and points threateningly in their direction. Pleased with her perception I saunter up to the fence and raise my head to give her dirt-covered hand a fond sniff.
Time for another nap. Dinner is only a few hours away.
The rain wakes me, and chagrined I head on over to the cabin, where I scrape my paw over the closed door’s front until caregiver finally understands that I must go into my lair before my fur becomes dirty.
She obligingly opens the door for me, and when she would have left while I (and the silly Labradors, Beagle and horse-like creature) went inside, but a single bark from me has her turn around to look at me questioningly.
I trot over to the bed, point up to make clear what I want, and then, just to be sure, prance backwards until I can set my forepaws against the orange sheets. Caregiver laughs, wraps her arms around my behind and carefully boosts me up on the mattress. Yes, I have trained her extremely well. After a pleased look in her direction (she deserves it) I make my way over to the head-end of the bed, rummage around the sheets until I have created a nice nest for warmth, and settle down for my nap.
The sun is already lowering by the time I raise my head and look around the quiet cabin. Thankfully the silly Labradors, Beagle and horse-like creature are nowhere in sight. I blissfully enjoy the peacefulness of my lair, stretch out a bit, and then, deciding that it is time, I commence my most patient and steady bark to let caregiver know that I am ready to venture out into the world again.
It takes caregiver only half an hour or so to respond to my summons, and after she has carefully assisted me off my bed, I trot out into the open for another foray in the yard. Lots of new scents have been spread during the day, and I must follow them all before I can finally go inside the main house and enjoy a tasty little snack.
Lying on the blanket that has been obligingly put out for the herd, I eat my fair share of kibbles and then head for the couch for another quick nap.
The horse-like creature wakes me from my slumber somewhere around midnight. Time and again he will jump up and annoyingly trample his way back and forth through the room until my caregiver finally takes him out.
The silly Labradors and the Beagle are throwing up a racket by then too, wasting precious energy as they eagerly make their way to the courtyard gate on their way up to my lair. I follow at a slight distance, uttering an occasional howl to tell them to quiet down, or else…but they pay me no heed, silly herd. No manners whatsoever, if you ask me. Really, that a gentleman such as I must share my living space with such creatures, it really is too much to ask.
On our way up, and because she clearly likes it so much, I do a silly game of catch with the most svelte of the Labradors. She runs about, back and forth, while I playfully bark at her silly antics.
By the time I arrive at my lair, I am suitably out of breath (even a gentleman such as I needs exercise) and wait until caregiver gives me my watered kibbles. She knows that I like my kibbles moist and she places it on the floor for me to eat from after she has taken care of the others.
I enjoy the small servings, knowing that I have to give the horse-like creature a bit of time before he slackens his guard and I can dine.
After this I must once again let caregiver know that it is time for me to retire for the night, and settle for my beauty sleep.

Which just about concludes Chaos’ day. I know. He’s absolutely bonkers…or I am, for imagining that he functions in that particular way. Hah.

Ah well, it is fun to imagine anyway.
Other than the usual riffraff, the weather is showing some signs of improvement…or it did right before it started raining again just half an hour ago, darn it.
For your information the morning was spent in the yard pulling weeds, while fully enjoying the full sunshine.

So I’ve gotta get back to work, and I will undoubtedly be back in a day or two, to bore you with stories about it. Hah.