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Iced buns

Star Wars Episode 4.1, The Lost Hope

I don’t get it, says Euka squinting at her Christmas present. Explain to me your hooman logic behind this one.

Micron sniffs the thing, then pokes it with a paw as if testing to see if it might be breathing.

Euka looks up at me, a slight tilt to her noggin. Lookit now, she says. The walking carpet and the Kowakian monkey-lizard* both got tennis balls.  And I open … this? 

Well, princess, I say. I think it’s perfect for you. And look at it this way, the tennis balls are for all of you. But this… I hold up her gift for a better view .. this is just for you. 

And besides, I say. They finally clearance priced the Halloween stuff at the pet store, so there’s that.

I’m a lucky dog, says Euka. Yep, envy me, canines of the world.  She walks over to Micron to take the tennis ball from him to start a game of Chase Me You Big Moose.

Don’t go too far, I call after them.  We’re going to set up a photo shoot in a few minutes.

I have a bad feeling about this, says Euka.

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away. Yeah, not really.

Ok, here’s the scene, y’all.  We’re on the ice planet Hoth*, right?  It has to be Hoth because we’re immersed in snow here and there’s nothing to be done about that on the set.  No need to check Wookieepedia to see if or when Princess Leia ever set foot there. It doesn’t matter because this is fan fiction, people.

Sorta. There’s some fact in here, too.

So anyway, Hoth.  We messed around for a few minutes trying to scare up a white towel or blanket or something to drape over the princess’s shoulders to give her an Episode 4 Leia wardrobe.  Then realized our pale beauty can pull off the look sans the good linens. Sure, like I’d have anything white around here anyway.

Alrighty Euka, let’s get in character here. You are Princess Leia Organa, I say. Damsel in distress by all first appearances, but inside there’s a smart-mouthed tough girl. Be the princess. 

Princess Leia just looks at me.

Right then, looks like we’re there already, I say. Let’s practice some lines.

My buns are freezing, says the princess.

Cut!  I say. Um, tough girl, remember? Princess Leia would not complain about the harsh conditions on Hoth. This is the kind of chick that can kiss her own brother without shuddering. Let’s go with that, shall we?  Channel us some of that sass.

Euka closes here eyes for a moment.  She opens them as a princess. Nothing has changed. But she pops out a monologue anyway.

Aren’t you a little short for a storm trooper, says Princess Leia to Luke Skywalker. But still. Hubba.

Give me that blaster, you idiot, says Princess Leia.
Somebody has to save our skins. Into the garbage,
fly-boy!  Oh, and bring your hunky friends. 
[wink wink]

Ok, ok, I say. That was, um, good or something. But how ’bout we knock down the creepy factor a notch. Let’s try another line.

A deep breath, hold it … and …

Gov’na Armpit, growls Princess Leia, I shoulda expected to find you holding Vader’s leash. I recognized your foul stench when y’all brung me on board.


Someone frying bologna?
Wait, what was that? I ask. Did you just merge a cockney accent into Appalachian dialect? Heh, that’s actually pretty impressive.  Ok, my brave princess, just one more and we’ll check out the catering table.

Dibs on the jelly-filled, says Euka. 

Yeah, ok. One more after that one, I say.

Euka lowers her head to find her inner character this one final time. She then lifts her pretty face to spew this one out.

And I thought they smelled bad, pants Princess Leia. …on the outside. [coff coff graaack spit]


Nice sound effects there, princess, I say. That bit of over-emoting just brings that scene to life.  No matter that one was a Han Solo line. Oh, and that poor tauntaun. What a way to go.

Micron wants to be a tauntaun, says Euka.  He told me. 

Sure he does, I say.

He smells like one, pants Euka. …on the outside.

Well, this looks like a good stopping point. Let’s call it a day, I say. And wrap this piece of art. We’ll get you back inside where it’s warm, my pretty, pretty princess. Here, let me have those head buns … Euka!

Wow, what a surprise. Excuse me while I look for my sarcasm font.


They put pumpkin spice in everything now.




 _____________________
*Star Wars: Episode VI – Return of the Jedi (1983) and About Jager

A Furry Christmas to all

She’s snow kind of beauty

Euka II, our pale beauty, at 15 months

Oh heck yeah, people. With just a dab o’mousse and the right amount of root lifter, I’ve tamed this straight-as-string hillbilly hair into a perfectly acceptable coif.

And stellar timing, too, for this blue moon appearance of a Good Hair Day. Looming before me is the The Husband’s boss’s holiday party to hit tonight. So now, instead of the trifecta of my questionable table manners, awkward social skills, plus a hair style that makes folk wonder if I’ve been moving furniture while wearing a motorcycle helmet, we got us only two out of three.

It’s gonna be a good day, Scooter.

You know what’s great about Ohio? No, really. This time I’m not using the sarcasm font. I do appreciate the winter months that bring in lower humidity, which in turn promotes more flattering hair styles for those of us who are challenged in such matters.

And then, here in the midwest climes, we have the added bonus of beautiful snowscapes, don’t we?  The change of seasons that keeps us appreciative of the beauty of nature and all it offers.

So I was pretty darn grateful to snap a few photos of our Miss Euka with the snow at her back before it started raining sleet. Because, you know. Ohio.

Euka at four months

It was just a year ago our California blonde was romping about in her first snowfall, an event we shared at It’s Snow Fun Surviving a Blizzard.  And now at a mature-ish fifteen months old, Miss Euka gets a second shot at an Ohio winter.

Folk ask us where Euka will be when she graduates from advanced training at Canine Companions for
Independence. We have to give the brutally honest answer of … we have no idea. It’s not up to us, of course. CCI, and Euka herself, will decide when that time comes. Our CCI region covers fourteen states, but even that is only part of it all.

We know that Euka’s skills could match a graduate from another region of CCI, as well. The Northwest, Southeast, Northeast, or possibly back to her birthplace of California.

Whatever her destiny, we know this will be her last winter with our family and so we want to get as much snow time in that we can possibly manage.

To heck and back with the Good Hair Day, I declare. Let’s have some fun in the sleety Ohio rain, my pale beauty.

And despite the fact I can’t find my car keys, I was able to locate the red bow we used last December for the First Snow photo shoot.

Just as gorgeous as she was last December, wouldn’t you agree?  She would nearly blend into the snowscape like a winter fox if we didn’t have that red bow on her.

Oh, I hear you though. But last year, you say, she was so stinkin’ adorable with the red bow clutched between her little piranha puppy teeth. 

Let’s see you manage that one again, you say in a taunting manner.

Oh Sure, I reply, flashing a self-assured and cocky half smile. I accept your challenge..

And then I fail.

Miserably.

This is not the adorable either one of us had in mind, now is it?

Nor was this. But it was, I think, what we all expected.

Final score of the day, y’all?

Good Hair Day: 0
Adorable puppy with bow in delicate, yet crocodilish, maw: 0
Beautiful California Blonde having a moment of bliss in the Ohio snow: 1+

It’s a good day, y’all.

There’s snow sense in it

I’ve got my eye on you

You will regret this, hooman, says Bodine.

You know, cat o’mine, I say.  I suppose I will. But it feels good now. 

So, I continue. You’ll be keeping [snort] an eye on me, right?

Oh, purrs Bodine. Count on it, chickeroo. You’re certainly aware of the all-seeing and ever watchful eye that is kept near my Striped Tail of All Things Unholy?

The purring gets louder. You will awaken to its gaze upon you one morning. 

Roger that, I say. Like I wasn’t, in fact, just today greeted by your feline Eye of Sauron hovering above me at Food O’clock this morning. Surely you can come up with a more clever vengeance for once.

And I immediately regret saying that out loud. I just don’t learn sometimes.

A scene from the ill fated photo
shoot from
 We’ll be there with bells on

Kinda like this idea for a holiday photo shoot with the dogs. I’m not even looking for perfection here; a simple good enuf would satisfy that tingly need for a Christmas pic of our four footed family. And it was a mere week ago, as we enjoyed the temperate climes of southwestern Ohio, I went at it. Gave it one heck of a try, I did. (click here for We’ll be there with bells on).

All that work just to end up with a bunch of photos of my trio of festive dogs in front of dry brush pile. This backdrop of dead grass and bare sticks isn’t emanating the aura of holiday cheer that I’m aiming for.

Sending Merry Christmas greetings from the Depths of Despair! our holiday cards would read.

But glory be to the Ohio weather patterns. In a matter of a couple of days, we went from temps in the sixties to a finger numbing mid-twenties. Oh, but this is good news. It is.  Cuz we got us some snow along with it.

Where just last week I was looking at that looming stick pile and thinking it was something only a match could fix, today I’m trekking through the white stuff that covers all the uglies in the backyard.

Don’t let those expressions of practiced tolerance on their canine mugs sway your opinion.  These critters of ours are just dizzy with holiday spirit.

Um, Food Lady? says Micron. We can’t feel our toes anymore. 

What are you talking about? I say, refocusing the camera lens. You have feet like Hobbits don’t you?  You know, like furry on top and leathery on the bottom? You should be set for another few minutes.

Carry me, says Euka.

You might want to run back to the house
for a spatula,
says Micron.

Oh my, I say, rolling my eyes. Fine, let’s get you delicate flowers back inside then. 

Ugh. Ok, I’m feeling some guilt here. Not so much as I’ll feed them an extra meal or something. But watching the poor furries lift their cold, cold paws from the snow has tugged my maternal heartstrings. So before we wrap up to take everybody back in, I pull off Euka’s working cape and fix a scarf about her neck.

Ok dogs, I say. We’ll give you a chance to warm your toesies and maybe we can give it another …Hey! Darn it, Micron!




Because this.

mmmmm …. snow

The big dog has now become One with the snow. A private Zen moment with the white matter like he’s searching for some deeper meaning of it all.

Right.  And then this. A whole lot of this happened next.

And yep, they’ve done it again. The clever critters.

I just don’t learn sometimes.

It’s the Euka Bunny

Hey Food Lady! Got some bad news for ya about the Easter Bunny!

Falling under the category of “Didja Know This?” I’m gonna explain why we can never get a handle on exactly when Easter Sunday is going to show up from year to year.

Easter 2013 is celebrated today, the last Sunday of March.  Last year we were hiding our grownup chocolate stash on April 8. Two years ago? April 24 and close enough to sandal weather to show off the first pedicure of the year.

So what the heck, Calendar People? Is there somebody in charge of this stuff we can talk to? Of course we can’t blame the hapless folk that print our calendars. Besides, we really don’t want them to have this kind of power anyway. Sure, first it’s just one holiday. The Calendar People are all, Hey guys, let’s move Easter again this year. And then next we have to suffer things like changing the actual time of the day back and forth by an hour for no apparent reason. Next up will be the mandate to have Halloween only during a full moon or Labor Day for when we’re motivated to do something productive. A white Christmas is a natural choice to be proclaimed as mandatory, which is really bad news for the likes of Florida. It’s just anarchy y’all.

The Euka Bunny

Well, I can tell you this much about Easter. You recall we just celebrated the first day of spring, right?  The vernal equinox, that was. Ok, for these last couple of thousand years or so, Easter has been determined to be the next Sunday after the first full moon that occurs after the vernal equinox. It’s ok, read it again. It actually starts to make sense after the second reading. 

Here, how ’bout this:

1. First day of spring
2. Full Moon
3. Easter Sunday

Just like mapquest directions, right? When you reach spring, you travel in time for [x] days until you see the Full Moon. Continue on until reaching destination on Sunday.

Along with the Lenten calendar (which is six weeks long, but it’s really only 40 days because Calendar People have infiltrated the church*), the triduum, and Pentecost, this is stuff I used to cover with the kids in my catechism classes every spring. Most would get it, some just didn’t care to know the details.  Because all those poor kids would seem to be on a family-imposed sweets moratorium during the Lenten season. Really, they just wanted to know when they could drink pop again. And that’s how you teach middle school kids, people. Get ’em personally involved in the subject.

What’s that you ask? If I think I know so much, then what’s the deal with this Easter Bunny legend?  Ah, easy nuff. I can simply say, I have absolutely no flippin’ idea how a rabbit got involved with all this. Well, I guess there’s spring, fertility, new life and such that can be rabbit related. But now you’ve got me curious, so I’ve gone to the Source of All Knowledge for you – Wikipedia.

Ok, so here at Wikipedia a search of “Easter Bunny” has scored us info about rabbits being hermaphrodites and making little rabbits without doing the deed and that German rabbits will lay eggs, but only in kids’ hats and . . . wait, now they’re just messing with us. I admit I only skimmed the article, but still. This is some heady material. Check it out if you want, but honestly I think they’re just making it up as they go along.

[sigh], says Euka

But no time to ponder about androgynous bunnies from the middle ages. I had another mystery at hand to solve this Easter weekend. How to get Euka to wear bunny ears without the, well, hangdog expression.

 
Euka, I said. Balancing the camera in one hand and waving a dog biscuit past her eyes. Look! Cookie! Bring your head up a notch.

I can’t, Euka whined. These ear things are filled with lead or a black hole or something. Feeling . . . faint. I’m so fatigued I don’t even think I can [deep breath] finish a sent. . .[sigh].

Cut. It. I said. Out. I lower the camera and reach to pull the bunny ears from her noggin.  Fine. No problem, kiddo. Let’s take a break then. I set the purple torture device on the snow. I need a minute to clean dog snot off the lens anyway, so you can just hang loose for a  . . . Euka!

Miss I’ve-Lost-the-Will-to-Live has snatched up the bunny ears and taken off at mach 1 with them.  Here comes Peter Cottontail¯, she sings. Hoppin’ down the bunny trail. Batman smells. Robin laid an egg.

You’re mixing up your holiday songs, Euka, I yell after her. And now that the dark cloud of oppression has lifted, let’s get a nice bunny ear photo.

Hoppin’ down the bunny trail . . .

Hey Food Lady, says Euka. How many legs you got? Oh yeah, [snort] just two. See if you can catch me.

Right. Nice try there, missy. I say. You have to run out of steam sometime. Get it out of your system, I’ll wait.

You shoulda packed a lunch, hahahaha, says Euka. She’s starts up her Euka Bunny song again. ¯Here comes Peter Cottontail, she sings. Hopping through the forest. Scooping up the field mice and bopping ’em on the head.

Ok, now you’re doing a bunny medley with Little Rabbit Foo Foo. I say.  Oh, never mind. Enjoy your first Easter, little one.



Easter bells, Batman smells.
Robin laid an egg.



I kinda thought he’d taste like
malted milk balls or something.

________________________________________________
*Ok, not their fault. The Lenten Season spans six weeks, this is true. However, Sundays remain a day of celebration, not deprivation, and so are excluded. So, there’s your forty days.

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