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Tag Archives: Jager

Pay attention or pay the lady at the license bureau

So you bring that new puppy home and housebreaking is going as expected. You can get the pup outside to do her business most of the time with only the occasional carpet christening.

But now it’s been nearly a week of successful toilet training and the pup has just walked over to you, made laser direct eye contact and squatted. Right there! In front of you!

What do you do?

You grab the classified ad section of your own local version of the Dayton Daily and roll it up tightly, right?

Then you smack yourself soundly on the head for not paying attention to the puppy.

It’s your own dumb fault.

When I say “you”, I really mean me, of course. Well, all of us collectively. Anyone who has raised a puppy or adopted an adult dog from a shelter.

I was reminded about this Paying Attention thing this week, when the Husband came downstairs and handed me this little nightmare.

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Smart Phone Screen Cleaner



So I just happened to have this photo of the Jagerhund. The Why’s and How’s of this phenomena are lost to history, but I did indeed capture a private moment between my freaky little dog and the storm door.

Yep, Jager is schlurping the inside of the window.

And I get this idea.

This is now the desktop image on my Droid.

Because, you see, I can clean the outside of the screen easy ’nuff. But it would certainly void the warranty if I took the thing apart of wipe down the inside, right?

Problem solved, y’all.

Ghosts like toast

I would have thought the dogs would alert
To another presence in which to flirt
Nothing but silence as I left the room
No portent of dismay, nor omen of doom
All was right with my breakfast upon the desk
A simple warm up of the cuppa was my quick task
So upon return, it surprised me most
To make the discovery that ghosts like toast

I walk into the dining room to set my fresh cup o’joe on the table. Another glorious work-from-home day, of which I am one lucky chick to have, and I’m setting the scene for a productive morning.
A cup of my very own special-brewed version of Cowboy Coffee, a slice of peanut butter toast and a peaceful aura emanating from the still sleeping dogs. Gonna be a good day, Scooter.
Well, I pass by two sleeping dogs. Jager is at the table and does a quick spin around when I return. He is obviously going through great effort to appear casual. If dogs could whistle, he’d be puckered up.
Um, I say. What’s going on?

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