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Category Archives: Bodine

Wordless Wednesday: Grasshoppa

Hey Grasshoppa, says Bodine.  Quickly as you can, snatch the pebble from my hand.

Ain’t gonna happen, says Micron.

No, really, says Bodine. When you can take the pebble from my hand, it will be time for you to leave.*

You know what, Master Po-dine? says Micron. The last time I tried playing tennis ball with you I got shredded.

Because you’re too slow. That’s all, says Bodine. You just need to practice more, my young student. Here, try to take the ball from me. 

Food Lady says I can’t eat you because you’re made of fat and gristle and you’d just give me gas, says Micron.  

Hahahaha! Wait, what?, says Bodine. Whatever. You have no competitive spirit, that’s what’s wrong with you, Microbe.  I need a challenge here.

Hey Jager! calls Bodine. Grasshoppa, quickly as you can . . .

*Kung Fu (1972-75) Back when we had four channels (2, 7, 22 & 45) to watch on television and you didn’t need a remote to change them because that’s what our parents had kids for.  Well that, and adjusting the foil on the rabbit ears.


Since you’ve been gone

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Well, for the love of fish sticks, says Bodine.  There you are. Glad to see you finally remembered that I need to be fed, Chickie.  Where the [expletive deleted] have you been all day?

All day? I ask.  Bodine, we’ve been gone a week, dude.  Although I do appreciate the warm welcome home.  I peek over at the cat food bowls. And your bowl’s full of kibble, kiddo.  Why the grief over hunger pangs?

Interesting story, says Bodine. You should write a book.

Bodine waddles over to the food bowl.  Well [crunch crunch], he says, spewing kibble out the sides of his mouth, I had to ration myself.  I didn’t know if you were coming back.  Hey, by the way, Chickie, I left you a remembrance of me in the litter box.  Go fish that out will ya?  I’m heading that way next.

Sure thing, I say.  Just let me set my suitcase down first, ok?  I walk over to check the answering machine for messages.  So, Bodine are you telling me that you didn’t get fed while we were gone? Here, I’ll call Lisa to  see if she ran into any problems last week.

Naw, says Bodine.  I didn’t say that. I just said I was [burp] pacing myself.  Some Kibble Chick came by every day to pay homage to me.  And I gotta say, she was a lot better about keeping the litter box clean than my usual . . . he pauses to look up at me.  Wait, did you say a week?

Bodine, my love, I say. First of all, Lisa is a professional pet sitter, not a Kibble Chick to pay homage to the benevolent ruler of Sword House. And secondly, we were all gone. All of us. For a whole week.  Even the dogs. So you just started to miss us yesterday?

That’s it!, he slaps his forehead with a paw.  The dog bed’s missing!  I knew something was different around here.  You brought it back with you, right?  I’m gonna want a nap after I recycle this little snack.  Oh, take a minute to wipe off the counters next.  They’re absolutely covered with fur and it’s messing with my Chi. Honestly, it’s like I’m the only one who notices how you can’t keep up with this mess. Like, um, the litter box. Still waiting on that mcnugget removal, you know.

Really? I ask. That’s your response, is it? You’re not even curious about where we’ve all been the last few days? Bodine? Hello?

Huh? says Bodine.  Are you still talking?  What? What’s that look for?  Fine, but you know what they say about curiosity.  It doesn’t end well for we of the feline persuasion. No prob, chickie, I’ll take one for the team, but you owe me now. Go ahead and tell me your bedtime story while I stretch out here on the counter . . . [oof] ok, ok, the cat bed then. Right, Once Upon a Time . . . you can take it from here.

Nice view, says Jager. But I’m not getting any closer to that water stuff.

It was a lovely vacation, I say with a sigh. We drove to Cedar Island; it’s a remote area of the southern outer banks of North Carolina. We were right by the bay, no crowds or touristy stuff to deal with. A glass of chilled white in the evenings while watching the seagulls from the deck.  Oh, but the mosquitoes were pretty bad. We had to use bug spray if we were sitting outside for a while.

Uh huh, uh huh, nods Bodine. He pauses in his post-dinner cleaning ritual. Interesting stuff.  You should write a book.

I ignore the biting feline sarcasm and continue.  The dogs had a blast, of course.  New smells to discover and all.  Micron especially enjoyed the place; he really loved the water. Jager plotted in his terrier brain on how to catch a seagull and we had some wonderful opportunities to socialize Euka in the area. Oh, there was a storm that came through one day that changed our plans, but in a good way. And we saw wild horses and a wild cow. I don’t know, though. The cow might not have been wild, she seemed nice enough. We met some local fishermen and a lady who apologized for being part Yankee, like it was a bad thing. Which I guess it kinda is down there.  I found out mud turtles have an attitude. Is that a turtletude, then? Oh yeah, just wait till I tell you about when Euka stole my toothbrush  . . . Bodine?

zzzzzz[snert], says Bodine.

Ok, sure, I say.  Let’s save the stories for another time. I want to get some unpacking done and we can sort through the photos later. Sleep tight, little furball.  You’ll need your rest now that the dogs are back to torment.

Where are the dog paddles for the canoe? snorts Micron.

Wordless Wednesday: Canine Funkitude

Is somebody frying bologna? asks Bodine the Cat.

Oh Bodine! Nobody move!, I say. I’m getting the camera.  Which is only three steps away on the kitchen counter.  I click off the lens cap, turn to focus and snap this.

And absolutely not the scene I had before me a mere five seconds ago. The dogs are fresh from their bath, damp and clean.  Bodine came up from the basement for his evening rounds and had curled up next to the two of them on the dog bed. He was grooming them. Alternating dogs to lick their fur dry. And purring. Seriously.

Somehow bizarre, adorable and strangely disturbing all at the same time.

The shot I got instead is Bodine acting like a cat.  It smells like papaya and wet labrador in here, he says, ears back to show his disgust in the canine funkitude. He wants you to know that I’m totally lying to you and he would never (Never! he says) groom a wet dog.

Meanwhile Jager, the Master of the Hunt and Avoider of  All Things Bath-related, is keeping a secured safe distance lest his stanky self be tossed into the tub next.

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Wordless Wednesday: I don’t always . . .

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Stay vengeful my friends, says Bodine.

I’ve been seeing a handful of Internet memes lately with The Most Interesting Man in the World. “I don’t always [something],” says TMIMITW, “but when I do I [something snort-worthy or rather naughty].”

So we made you a Bodine meme. Enjoy.

Bodine did.

And here’s the PG-13 version.  Scroll down only if you’re not offended by strong language. By strong language, I mean that word we say when we spill coffee on our ourselves or drop our car keys in a puddle. Or when the cat knocks a pile of books off the dining room table.

Wordless Wednesday: Some are more equal than others

Right, that’s a fire extinguisher. In my kitchen.
It’s not a reflection of my cooking skills. But I
 appreciate that you were thinking that.
“All animals are equal, but some animals are more equal than others.”  George Orwell, Animal Farm

Bodine, benevolent ruler of Sword House, has commandeered the dog bed. A silent and bloodless takeover of prime real estate, which has left Micron to rest his weary bulk upon the kitchen tile.

To the left are three steps that lead down to the back door. Micron’s head is pretty much hanging there in a passive-aggressive statement of his discontent.

I’m suffering here, Bodine, says Micron. Takin’ one for the team.

Yep, says Bodine. [purr]

Changes in latitude, changes in attitude

Alright! A good hair day, now that’s a lovely way to start my morning. To my amazement, these ultra fine, straight-as-string hillbilly locks are tamed down and lookin’ sassy. Now that’s something to celebrate. I’m gonna video conference someone today, y’all.

Oh. [sigh] It’s raining. Fine. I put the post-it note back over the webcam eye on the laptop to block it from any unintentional viewing.  I’ll just go old school and phone people today, I think as I leash the puppy for the first of many potty breaks. 

It was a Work from Home Day last Monday. This was also Day Three of Euka and I getting to know each other.  I always seem to be four paws away from being an animal hoarder (how many mammals can I fit in this house and still be married?), so being vigilant to the changing homestead dynamics pays off big time.

Micron, our change of career and former CCI puppy, was rather unsettled to find he is once again in the position of shared attention. The first couple of days, Micron would agree to be in the same room with the little usurper, but he kept his back to all of us. Dog language for being pretty peeved about our poor decision making skills.

I knew he was really put out when treating the dogs during a training session. Everyone in a calm sit, attention on the handler. Good dogs, well done!  A puppy kibble is gifted to Euka, Jager and then Micron. Micron took the kibble, then opened his mouth to let it fall out. Not even the energy to  spit it out, but just let it drop. Good grief, you big baby.

This didn’t bug me overly much. Just like when we introduced young Yaxley, Micron will process this change in his life and eventually warm up to the puppy. 

And as the week progressed, Micron finds comfort in knowing that he’s still dearly loved and rides in the car haven’t stopped. Meal times continue to happen on schedule, even though the puppy’s exclusive noon meal is kind of a sore spot. So Micron’s made a smooth transition from talk-to-my-back to tentatively sharing the dog bed, then finally full out play sessions in the backyard. Moving along nicely here, I think.

And Jager, our terrier All American mutt, is a pro having been through this puppy thing a few times. As a professional victim, he accepts his role as a squeak toy and pin cushion for needle teeth. He also knows that eight week old puppies don’t climb stairs. The second story is Sanctuary for weary, gnawed upon older dogs. Well, for now.

Ah, but what about the cat and his visions of grandiosity, you ask? Honestly, I really didn’t know which one to be afraid for.  Who will be predator and who the prey? I knew to keep a close watch on this new relationship.

To discourage prey drive in the CCI puppies, I don’t want to introduce a cat that will allow himself to be chased. Which is one reason we have Bodine around here. This cat will stand his ground or he will until bodily shoved by three dogs moving through a room.  I’ve seen this cat weave between the legs of happy canines (You’re home! You came back! say the dogs) only to get plastered to the kitchen wall in all the excitement. And the honey badger just doesn’t care.  Hey, Food Wench, says Bodine, Sovereign Ruler of Sword House. My bowl’s empty again. Fill ‘er up, why doncha?

Now take a sec to check out this photo below with Bodine and Euka. What do you see taking place here? No, no, you’re right. Bodine is indeed sitting upon a sheet of cardboard that I set out as a cat trap to keep him off my laptop keyboard while I’m working. Right, normal stuff. No big deal.

But an interesting turn when Euka grabs the cardboard cat trap and starts pulling it across the kitchen floor.  Tug-jerk-slide, tug-jerk-slide. The cat rides bumpily along like the dog is learning to drive a stick shift.

And look at Bodine’s posture, that look of regal entitlement.  Mush onward, you smelly beast of mine, says Bodine. Deliver me to the royal kibble bowl before I fade to a skeletal state.

So what a busy week for this little critter, Euka. A flight from California to Ohio to be met by cooler temps, different digs, furry friends and her new puppy raisers. And she’s taking it all in like a champ.

Ever curious and always moving, with the heart of a lion. This Euka is going to be a blast to have around for the next year or so.

A California Blonde in Ohio

Micron: Ow-ow-ow! Holy dog! Really? Ow!

Euka II:  Rawr! nom nom nom

And it begins.

We had started off our Saturday in the usual quiet, routine driven manner as we’d become accustomed. But with the full awareness that this was one to be savored.  In a few hours we were going to toss some drama into daily mix. On purpose and everything. The little polar bear pup, Euka II, was due to arrive.

After picking Euka up at the Dayton airport and giving her a short tour of our homey little burg, we introduce her to her new digs. Can you handle the steps to the kitchen, you precious little package? we fret. Concerned, we carry her into the kitchen and set her gently down upon the retriever-colored tiled floor.

And like a little furry cyclone, she changed the dynamics of our homestead in a matter of mere seconds.

Dang, says Euka. This place is boring.  Rocking your world in 3 . . . 2 . . . 1 . . .


While Micron and Jager play out the clingy love scene of “you love me best, right?” I’ve got one hand busy assuring my undying love for a forever dog and the other attempting to disengage shark teeth from a soft canine body part.

That striped kitty tail has become an instant favorite
for puppy teeth. Not sure what the husband is
about with his hand, but it appears to be a countdown.

The cat strolls up from the basement to see what the ruckus is about, because if there’s to be drama in this house, it is his to own.

You’ve got to be [expletive deleted] kidding me, says Bodine, Sovereign Ruler of Sword House, as he faces off the polar bear. What the heck were you guys thinking? I didn’t approve this.

Bodine is swift in asserting his power over this new little serf of his kingdom, but it is met unheeded. The cat finds it hard to maintain dignity, and that swaggy saunter, with the puppy nose vigilant in checking out where the feline nads of steel used to be. Bodine decides to move to a chair to continue his quiet displeasure on this turn of events.

I have the leash and so I now hold all the Power, says Bodine.  
You are mine to rule.  
Rawr!, says Euka. Gotcher tail!

But even an eight week old puppy can’t keep up this level of energy forever. Long after the rest of us have decided to call it a day well done, Euka finally starts to slow down. I just need to catch my breath for a minute, she says. Ha ha, just kidding. Rawr!

But yeah, she does shut down. In a slumber so deep that can only mean a full battery recharge. As we move in and out of the kitchen, not a blink or twitch out of her. She’s out.

Oh, but we’ve been through this puppy thing before. We know her batteries charge faster than ours. We use the quiet time to recover, get some things done, grab some dinner.

And just in time too.  Cuz she’s up again. 

Hey ya sweetie, we say. Glad you’re here, Euka. We needed some drama around this place, we did.


Sleep, puppy. Sweet dreams, little polar bear.

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