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Wordless Wednesday: Caption This #13

What is Micron saying to Jager?  Worse, what is that look on Euka’s face?

It was likely at this point when I should have been warned that things were about to go awry during last weekend’s Holiday photo shoot.

But of course I was too distracted by trying to put the dogs in a pretty sit while keeping the Santa hat straight on Jager’s pointy little head.

Gotcher your stoopid hats right here, Food Lady!

This top photo feels like a Caption This to me. There’s a conspiracy plan being gelled, a coup in the works, a disturbance in The Force. Or something.

Your thoughts?

We’ll be there with bells on

Wait, there it is … do you smell it, too? [sniff sniff snuffle] That peppery mix of decaying fall leaves and impending snow that we Ohioans know so well. Here in the Bermuda Triangle of weird weather patterns we recognize this heady aroma as the harbinger of the Christmas season.

Yeah, we know we should get out there and take care of that last layer of sycamore leaves, but darn it all, it’s just too cold. There’s no glory in leaf raking now that it’s December, so we find some peace of mind in the thought that the snow will cover them up later.  And then when that melts in the spring, it’ll compost those suckers into a nice fertilizing mulch for the new grass awakening from hibernation.

Just about makes sense, doesn’t it?  You’re welcome, my fellow Ohioans.

As we wave a tearful good-bye to the oh too short Midwestern autumn, we meet the new winter season poised on the threshold. Not really a hearty welcome for winter around here, though. This contrary season brings on too many low gray skies and chilly winds that rattle the tree limbs like dry bones.

Instead, I’d rather greet this unwelcome guest like a lost traveler who just needs some precise directions to get him to his destination.  I’d invite you in, I say to Winter. But you caught me in the middle of emptying the cat box and you know how that goes. Godspeed to on your journey and all, mister. Hope you make it to Toronto ok. I hear they’re really nice up there. 

I leave Winter sitting on my porch steps to look over his map and decide now might be a good time to get some holiday photos of the dogs. At least before this guy realizes that he is indeed in Ohio. Which means we could be seeing some bitter temps anytime before now and February.

As I grab up the holiday props …. antlers, Santa hats, jingly bells, elf cap … I’m on edge and the dogs pick up on it. I feel pressured, you know?  The days are shorter now, the sun’s angle makes long shadows. My window for clean light for photos is rather limited.

Gads, that’s not the only challenge we got here. Here’s my list of lofty expectations …

  • Three dogs
  • In a pretty sit
  • Composed in the same geographical area
  • Wearing festive holiday gear
Oh sure, and don’t forget this one.
  • Eyes are open.  All six of ’em.
First, it’s Jager. But, he says. The sun’s in my eyes. 

It’s overcast, I remind him. 
Then it’s your Christmas sweater, says Jager. Did you get it on sale, at least?

Next it’s Euka with the squinty eye look.

Honestly, she chimes in. There’s a reason some of that stuff is so cheap on Black Friday. 

You know what, I say. Actually I get a lot of comments when I wear this. See, Rudolph’s nose lights up when I press his right eyeball.

Uh huh, says Jager. Did you say “comments” or “compliments”? Pretty big difference there.

Right, I say. How ’bout jealous much?  

That’s it, says Jager. You just hit it on the blinking nose. I’ll be adding Tasteless Rudolph Sweater to my Christmas list.

I’ll take two! says Euka [snort]

I decide to ignore the Duo of Sarcasm and raise the camera for another try.

Hey! says Micron, deciding to join the dialog.

Squirrel!

Oh, for dog’s sake, I say. Of course, there’s a squirrel. We’re in the back … Micron!

Aargh, I didn’t see that coming. A diversion tactic, Micron style. This guy is smarter than he lets on.

The big fella makes a break and grabs a maw full of the holiday gear from the pile on the ground.

And runs like his plume tail is aflame and only Euka can put it out.

I gotcher back, Micron! yells Euka. Keep running! 

Jager looks at the yellow dog melee, then back at me, with a hopeful gaze upon his big eyes.

Don’t even, I warn him.

Fine. No matter. I did manage to get a shot of the three of them with all bullet-pointed criteria checked neatly off.

Just one more thing I should have added to the list, I think. It might be nice to get a shot without a dead stick pile looming in the background like an autumnal Armageddon.

Darn this season cross-over with its sans snow dead stick decor. Ohio is in serious need of an exterior decorator.  I’m just gonna have to try this again.

I’ll break it to the dogs tomorrow. And after I find all the holiday props scattered about in the yard.

Because it might snow, you know. Any day now. [fingers drumming]  Oh, Mr. Winter, I call. Whatcha got planned for us this week, good lookin’?

Dog Nose Wisdom

We need to talk

Hiya, says Jager. So, what are you doing right now? Nothing, right?

Actually, I say. After I make this grocery list, I need to pull the laundry out of the dryer before things get wrinkled and then empty the dishwasher. Stuff like that, because you know. Saturday and all. Why?

Aw, I dunno. says Jager.  It’s just that my terrier senses are tingling and there’s adventures happening out there somewhere. And I’m, well . . .  He pauses to look up and turns those big dark eyes to me.

I’m sitting here watching you shuffle through coupons, he says.

Aww, my little spotted dog needs some attention, ’tis true. Before we were puppy raising for Canine Companions for Independence, Jager was an only dog at our place. And from nearly his first Gotcha Day, he enjoyed spending his days at the office, socializing and noshing upon complimentary dog cookies.

Then we started volunteer puppy raising and the attention shifted. After a while folk in the office started to notice as well.

We never see Jager anymore, went the usual lamentations. It’s not fair, we miss him. Someone threatens to start a grass roots movement in support of the little guy and get some billboard ads for me to come across on my commute to work.

The fella enjoys a solid fan base. Have I ever mentioned how much I love my teammates at P&G? I really do.  It doesn’t even bother me when my dogs are greeted first with happy voices, then it’s Oh hey, Donna. I love people who love my dogs.

And after seven years of co-habitation with the Jagermeister, we’ve certainly hit a groove. He’s a low maintenance kinda guy, which has the unfortunate side effect of getting less attention than the other dogs.

So today, we’ll honor the freaky little spotted dog by allowing him to share his thoughts of profundity.

Which had to be rewritten after explaining to the former street dog that profundity is way different than profanity.

Oh. Well, said Jager. That changes everything.

Jager’s Dog Nose Wisdom

  1. When given a dog cookie, drop it and look miserably sad. You’ll get a different cookie. Eat both.
  2. You don’t have to speak Squirrel to know the tree rats are up there mocking you.
  3. I wonder if squirrels taste like chicken. 
  4. Don’t underestimate the importance of alerting when the neighbors get home. My code is ten barks per car door slamming. More if I think everyone’s lost count and I have to start over.
  5. The people who live here can’t count.
  6. My middle name is Quiet!  I don’t really like it much.
  7. By the way, it’s not attitude, thank you very much.  It’s Style.
  8. Always growl when chasing the tennis ball because that will intimidate the stupid thing.
  9. When around dogs bigger than me I can magically make myself the same size. On good days, I can be even bigger. I’m awesome that way.
  10. In my world, size does matter. 
  11. Standing on your toes while lifting one leg is an acquired skill. Let’s just see you try it, puny hooman.
  12. When getting on the bed, start off as a tight little ball. Then stretch out until you’re the size of a Rottweiler. If you’re already a Rottweiler, think livestock. Don’t forget to lock your joints.
  13. I chase the cat because he asked for it.
  14. I wonder if the cat tastes like chicken.
  15. I love almost every person I meet.  So if I act like I don’t like someone, pay attention.
  16. If you eat a box of the Food Lady’s fancy-nancy chocolates and get your stomach pumped at the vet, it’s still worth it. Because you know. Car ride.
  17. Chocolates don’t taste like chicken.
  18. I don’t understand this word fixation. I thought you called it a tennis ball.
  19. Yeah, I realize that I haven’t missed a meal in seven years, but before I moved in here I used to be hungry. What you call food aggression is just me being scared. 
  20. A tilted head will make people smile at you. Guaranteed.
This is like a training wheel for catching squirrels.
Huh. I guess that pretty much sums up life with the Jagerhund. We could likely go on for a while longer, but the little fella is giving me the laser light show with his eyes. And has the ratty yellow tennis ball at his feet. 
Yep, I obviously have better things to do with my time right now, y’all. 

The Grench

How the Grench stole Halloween

It had started with the snowfall.  I didn’t realize it at the time, but that short-lived Ohio weather anomaly we experienced in mid-October was a harbinger of doom.  Of fearsome events yet to come.

The signs were there and I just didn’t see them. Didn’t want to. After all, we’ve had snow in October before and the world continued on as we expected.

There’s a new sheriff in town, ya’ll.
Apparently new sneakers, too. Heh, looks
like this mom spared no expense on
her homemade Halloween costume.

Ok sure, the last October snow was somewhere around twenty years ago as evidenced here in this shot of the Favorite Kid sporting his Trick-or-Treat gear back in the old neighborhood.

But still. The white stuff melted before lunchtime and became just a vague memory by the bustle of the evening commute home. It’s still October, we all said. No worries.  Halloween will still go on just like it does every year at this time.

Turns out, I had sorely underestimated the power of the Holiday Grench.

What are you talking about now, you ask. The Holiday Grench? 

Ah, a good question that. No, it’s not a typo. Well, not this time.

A rather upbeat kinda chick, with her starry eyes and silver tinsel hair, we’ve noticed that the Holiday Grench grows stronger every year. Unlike her more famous third cousin twice removed, instead of a heart two sizes too small, within our Grench’s chest beats a sugar plum heart. She just loves the Christmas season, but not necessarily in a healthy way. As is the manner of any maniacal, but misguided, visionary, the Grench wants you to embrace her shopping holiday, too. To drink her cup of wassail, so to speak.

And so to make this vision happen, she must feed on the nostalgic memories of those who yearn to enjoy any type of fall celebration.

Your neighbors put their Christmas lights on their house last weekend, she taunts me.  And did you see?  Amazon started their Black Friday sales. She playfully bounces an ornament off my head. So, do you have your tree up yet?

But …, I stammer. but, it’s not even Halloween yet.

That’s right, she laughs. Time to start your Christmas shopping!  All your friends have already bought their first gift.

And just like the weather, everybody complains but nobody does anything about it.  We stand by as holiday decorations are displayed right after Thanksgiving, then the next year we see artificial trees in early November to whet our shopping desires.  And these days, the frost isn’t even on the pumpkin before we’re assailed with Jingle Bells on the outdoor speakers at the strip mall.

We don’t do anything about it, of course, because we can’t. The Grench has grown too powerful.  Mere mortals such as us are no match for her subtleties.  This holiday spirit is hungry for your fall festivities, because once conquered she can move onto Labor Day and beyond.  The world will be her one big Shopping Day.

Every day will be Black Friday! says the Grench, tossing glittery bows in the air above. But only three of you will get the really good sale price!  Bwahahahaha.

Maybe I’m just being paranoid, but I really got the feeling she took a personal interest in my Halloween this year.  I felt jinxed, like the joy was being sucked right out of my favorite time of year.

Ah, but this chick isn’t easily broken. Me, that is. I didn’t make it to this [bleeped] decade of life without learning some coping mechanisms, you know.

Fergo is a dog outstanding in his . . . oh, good grief,
how old is that joke?

After the first foreboding snow, we found we needed to send Euka to the CCI Spa for a few weeks.  No photos ops at the pumpkin farm for our only October with this pup, an event I’ve enjoyed with the other CCI puppies in our care.

Bent, but spirit not broken, we were blessed with an opportunity to dog-sit a favorite fellow, the sweet Fergo.  At twelve years old, our hearty friend remains a lover of life. And road trips.

Another fall festivity favorite, Jager slips into his Warg alter ego to participate in the Howl-O-Ween Woof Walk to support Miami Valley Pet Therapy Association.  The dictionary definition of cold and miserable, we got chilled to the bone that morning.

Just so you know, says Jager.  This counts as a bath.

By we, I mean me and the Favorite Kid. I woefully underdressed and the hopes that the lukewarm coffee would help warm my inner core were washed away into the storm drains.

Oh, but not our little Jagerhund. The Master of the Hunt wore his orc upon his back with a sense of Warg warrior pride. Our little spotted dog soaked up the excitement of the morning like he hadn’t been out of the house for a week. Which is kinda true, the poor pooch. It was good to give the fellow a special day of his own, rainy mist notwithstanding.

Back at her Swarovski crystal lair, the Holiday Grench is shaking a glittery fist into the air. Nooooo, she cries out. You will start your Christmas shopping. You will, I say. Don’t you dare even try enjoying your autumn festivals. I will not be ignored!  By the way, did you see your favorite shopping site has personalized photo gifts fifty percent off this week?

Then the triple-whammy.  Out of desperation, this vengeful Spirit of the Holiday Yet to Come strikes back with the trifecta of an overwhelming work load, longer commutes to the office, and then the worst slam of all … inclement weather.

So no spare time and little energy to carve a pumpkin even if I did have an empty moment. And then what the heck, Grench? A monsoon in land-locked Ohio? On Beggar’s Night?  What is wrong with you?

Heh, but take this, you spiteful spirit. I stand here and say to all that it is indeed possible to carve a pumpkin in twenty minutes during a lunch period at work. It helps if you’re working from home, of course.  I mean, all my carving tools are here. And the pumpkin. And while I haven’t tested the theory, I’m throwing out the educated guess that neither would be welcome in the office atmosphere.

Here’s how things went down then.

I gutted the big orange gourd on Tuesday night, roasted the pepita de calabazas (pumpkin seeds to you non-pretentious people) on Wednesday after work and finally carved a face into the non-sentient being on Friday at lunchtime. Then Friday evening I was able to get some photos of the thing before sundown.  No matter that it was November 1 when I completed this task.  I got ‘er done, I did.

And anyway, because of the weather situation on October 31st, a few communities moved their Beggar’s Night to the weekend. (Open letter to our humble burg:  You guys should have done that too, you know). So I figure it’s like a belated birthday card. It makes it extra special and festive to extend the holiday for another day or two, right?

With a mug of reheated potato soup steaming next to my pumpkin, I create an evil Jack O’Lantern to ward off that creeping winter holiday for another day.

And all is well in my little world. Or at least looking up a little.
Because I got autumnal photos of my handsome Micron.  Before Thanksgiving even.  
And also because Euka’s spa vacation is nearly over. We are looking forward to picking up the sassy girl later this week so she may continue in her quest to rock our world.
And just in time, too. Now we can start planning our Christmas photo ops. Yeah sure, I’ll give the Grench that one, I guess. 
But I’m still not leaving the sanctuary of my house on Black Friday. That’s crazy talk, y’all.
I’ll be shopping online instead.
Oh c’mon, says Micron.  It’s not like I have an Off switch for the good looks.
I do, however, short circuit from time to time, he admits.
Zoiks! cries Micron. Don’t look behind you! It’s … it’s The Holiday Shopping Season!

Addendum:

I was going to whine on about the unfortunality of no decent Halloween movies on the tube as well.  But then Zombieland was on.  Oh, and Paranormal Activity 2. The latter of which had me sleeping on the sofa with the lights on because I freaked myself out too much to go upstairs. Now that’s a good Halloween, people.

Wordless Wednesday: Pareidolia has landed

I’m aware the privacy fencing on the patio needs replacing. Oh, I do. I know this because it keeps coming up on the honey-do list, even though the task never seems to make it to the top ten of what to fix next in our quaint little abode.

Built in 1949, our house was the first in the area. And I say the place, with its time worn charm, is aging gracefully.  I stand alone with this conviction.

So instead of worrying about the awkward slant our tired fencing has decided as its position of comfort, I see a photo op in the manner of an open knothole.

And pretty sure that I can get a dog nose to poke through there.

That’s Jager’s snooter in the top photo.  Not exactly what my mind’s eye envisioned when I set up the shot. If you look closer, perhaps you see what I do.  A pink alien head with big black eyes peering out with a sense of benign curiosity.  Now I can’t not see it.*

And then this.

Yup, another grayling peeking out, this one with a more ominous gaze. Micron’s boop button won’t even fit through the knothole.

But because it’s the mighty Micron. We get this too.

Good lord, check out the length of the shadow the thing has cast. Some fearsome alien weapon, that tongue.

Yeah, I’m done now.  Prolly should move the fence replacement up a notch or two on the list.

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*The ability to see faces and other stuff in random images is pareidolia.  I couldn’t remember this word, nevermind spell it, without help from Google.

But check out the ever helpful Google and its sentient attempts to guess what I wanted to look up.

Ability to see farts, people? I am not going to do an image search on this. I am not.

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