My Four-legged Girls

We’re sitting on the back porch, Bella pressing her regal nose against the screen watching the squirrels and Pepper curled contentedly on my lap sniffing the air.

Bella’s eyes are like those of an Egyptian Princess; only hers are naturally and perfectly lined in black, melting my heart with her wide-eyed expressions of love every time she looks at me.

Pepper is jet black, except for the white on her chest and dainty paws. Looking up at me, rolling her big brown eyes, it’s as if she’s looking straight into my soul. I press her head against my chest and whisper how beautiful and precious she is to me.

That’s when I got to thinking.

My girls don’t need to take thousands of selfies to prove to the world how beautiful they are. They don’t have to wear the latest fashions, walk with a strut, talk like the Queen, or become members of a Country Club to prove their self-worth. They don’t need hundreds of fans on Facebook or thousands of likes and comments on WordPress to boost and encourage their ego.

My girls don’t need to be painted up, jewelled up or prettied up in any fashion to be dazzling to the eyes and pleasing to the soul.

My girls are lovely and gracious, loving and forgiving, fun and playful. My girls take life as it comes and remain beautiful in spite of the bad things that have happened to them. My girls are strong and loyal and truly excited to see me when I get up in the mornings or come in from being outside for a few minutes. My girls treat me like I’m the most important thing in their lives.

And that’s why I love them. They don’t try to be anything. They don’t try to prove anything. They just are.

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For the Love of a Canine

Passing cage after smelly cage, dog after sad-eyed dog,

My hopes, like fat droplets of rain splattering to the dingy floor,

I thought we’d never find the one. I wanted to leave. Then we spotted her

Curled in a ball like a lonely forsaken fawn on a thin ragged blanket

In the middle of the large, cold and desolate cage.

When she saw us standing there, she sprang to life and came running,

Her tail wagging furiously. Oblivious to the deafening barking

And howling echoing throughout the heart-sickening kennel, she jumped

Up and down like a bouncing kangaroo as if auditioning for the role of a lifetime.

Unable to resist her persistent charm, we cracked the cage door, and barely

Clasping the leash to her collar, she pulled my seemingly drunken husband

Through a crowd of bystanders straight to the doggie playground outside.

Squinting against the bright sunshine, we unfastened her leash and like a flash,

She raced around the playground, sniffed a few tattered toys scattered around,

Then like a playful cheetah came charging full speed towards me.

Unable to stop, she slid completely under my chair, backed out,

Snuggled close beside me and plopped her head on my lap.

That’s when I decided that having a Greyhound mix won’t be so bad.

However, since adopting her that day, I’ve questioned my sanity,

Wondering if I would survive this long-legged, faster than lightning,

Over-active, sassy, jittery, destructive chewing, hard-to-potty-train canine.

Now, nearly a year later, Bella has become the absolute funniest, most adorable,

Loveable, playful, snuggling, heart-melting, four-legged joy of our lives!

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It’s a Dog’s Life

I’ve designed more stuff to post on my blog, “My Favorite Things,” and got behind in this one. I’m old and don’t move as fast as I used to. That’s the best excuse I have for now. So I dug into my files and decided to do a post on dogs.It's a Dog's LifeI’m not madly in love with dogs, but do I like them. And growing up, we always had one. Like Pat, the beautiful Irish Setter that someone decided to steel from us one night, leaving their tracks in the snow. Weeks later Daddy found him tied to a tree in the woods.This little guy reminds me of the pooch that followed my youngest brother home one day. At least that was his story.  Something or someone was always following him home. But we kept the dog and named him poochy. One day my mother was checking his ears and pulled off a big tick . . . she thought. To everyone’s horror it was a big wart instead! We thought he’d need a blood transfusion before she got the bleeding stopped. Bloodhounds always look so sad, like they’re crying or, gonna cry any minute. I like them. They’re cute. But I don’t want one. Two crybabies under one roof would be the un-doings of my husband. Cats are fun too. But my husband doesn’t want one. I’d like to have one, though. But there’s the climbing and clawing and stinky cat litter. I just changed my mind. And finally, here’s Rascal. The puppy who wriggled his way first into our hearts then into our home. He was one of a littler of pups dropped off in the neighborhood. The little girl next door rescued him and took him home. But Rascal had other plans. I can still see him sitting in their driveway, his white chest glistening, his big brown eyes following our every move.

It’s usually the other way around, but Rascal picked us to be his owners. And the neighbors made it real easy for him because they were way too busy to care for a cute little puppy that needed lots of love and attention. So without hesitation they gave him to us.

He’s a joy, like having another kid in the house. When we let him in after letting him out for the last time at night, we accuse him of getting into catnip. Like a locomotive he runs around, growling and taunting us to chase him through the house. It’s like watching a three-ring circus as he maneuvers around the furniture, sliding on the carpet and digging in for more traction. It’s the highlight of our otherwise humdrum, lazy day.

Well, that’s all for now. Thanks for dropping by. Next time I’ll bake a cake!

From Photo to Caricature

My blogger friend, Colin, atrampinthewoods.wordpress.com, gave me permission to do caricatures of him and Fizz. Caricatures offend some people, so I always ask permission first. Caricatures are meant to be fun, not to make fun of. I would never make fun of anyone; I know how badly it hurts. So many thanks to Colin and Fizz for being such great sports!

Fizz wanted to go first, so here she is. Creating digital caricatures takes a lot of practice. If you warp the photo too much, you have a ridiculous looking mess. Fizz was difficult. She’s the first animal I did a caricature of. She was very patient though, sitting through hours of being deleted and reshaped and moved from scene to scene. Even after all that, I still was not pleased with her look. She got too fuzzy, so I added texture to compensate for that. I like crisp and clean for my caricatures. Although Fizz didn’t turn out that way I had intended, she’s still adorable. Thanks Fizz!

Companions

Companions

Sorry Fizz, but Colin was so much easier to work with. Not that I’ve given up on you, it’s just that people have less hair than dogs.

Do they have cowboys in the UK? Well they do now. I think Colin makes a great-looking cowboy. Can’t you see him in a pair of leather chaps, spurs on his boots, and racing a sleek black stallion through the Forest of Dean? Sorry, Colin. I get carried away sometimes. At least I didn’t envision you wearing a cape and mask too. Or did I?

Well that’s all I have for today. I spend way too much time at the computer. Yesterday I finally got geared up and actually washed two loads of laundry and blew off the dust piled sky high on my furniture. I even washed the dishes! I might even clean my bathroom today . . . or not.

Thanks everyone for looking at my stuff. If you like it, please let me know by clicking the little LIKE button. And leaving a word of encouragement is always appreciated. Thanks!

Fizz . . . Southewstern

Digital Designs by Sandi Staton

Digital Designs by Sandi Staton

Fizz decided she wanted to be a Cowgirl today, so a Cowgirl she is. She loved her new boots . . . didn’t want to take them off. But after trying to walk in them she changed her mind. She did look rather silly in them, but I’d never tell her so. She might not want to come back!