"Going to the Dogs..."
It amazes me how nature provides so many marvelous sounds with such small subjects. My amazement includes how a
small bird can chirp such marvelous melodies and with such volume. An unfortunate wake-up for us is a so-called "baby Yorkie."
This dog is no baby and answers to the name Norman and "Doggie." He "darts" at about 15 miles-per-hour and launches
onto a chair to bark at every walker, jogger, and of course pet owner that enjoys the neighborhood. From the front door
to the back porch our routine includes cutting off the alarm at 5:00 AM so he can exit the house and irritate those on the street.
Of course to let him out and still get some sleep, the door must be slightly opened, which adds to the morning chill. Recently,
we've opened the window for his needed exit. During our younger years, dogs had a box and a chained area - always outside.
An expected blast of Canadian air, accompanied by a dumping of snow meant that our"outside dog," Pooch, was permitted
to spend a cold night in our basement. We called him Pooch, Mom called him Poochie and our grandfather referred to his as
"Shiner." Getting him to the basement was often challenging. Once let loose, he acted like an escaped prisoner. Gramps
would corral him by yelling, "Here Shiner, here Shiner, ya, ya." Pooch enjoyed sleeping next to Uncle Emery upon his
late night return from the Elks Club.