Things I’ve Noticed

In the last week, I’ve noticed a number of things. First of all, I always sleep on my right side. And, when I do, Joan brushes my fur—you know, what with my “undergrowth” problem (that’s what the vet calls it). Well, I caught Shane looking at me very quizzically and thought I’d better take a look in the mirror. My left side is all smooth and shiny and my right side is just kind of, well, not so smooth and shiny. Joan says I’ll have to learn to rest on my left side so she can brush the right side, but lying on my right side is the only way that feels normal. You try sleeping on one of the four sides you don’t usually sleep on, and you’ll see what I mean. Life’s a habit.

This week the dandelions have started to pop up. Joan tries to chop off their heads with the lawn mower and fails 98 percent of the time. I don’t see the problem with dandelions. The yellow dots all over the green lawn are so Monet, so Van Gogh.

I’m back to walking around the block with Joan and Shane. It’s so much fun with all the kids who pet me and all the tough guys who call me “Boo-Boo” and “Fluff” (which they say in the most complimentary way). Yesterday, I man who was working on his car showed me his dirty hands and apologized because he couldn’t pet me. So Joan said he was allowed to kiss me. He didn’t, but I know he wanted to. I think he was afraid Shane would get jealous.

Now I’m looking forward to today’s walk. But Joan’s watching all six hours of Martin Chuzzlewit and says she can’t drag herself away—that’s how good it is. I don’t get it.

Isn’t that just like life? When you don’t want something, there it is staring at you in the face every day; and when you finally want it, it floats away on the first good breeze. Poof.

Best wishes, Juno

PS: Joan's father, Scott Taber, did the drawing. It's funny, isn't it?

Men in Circles

He he he. I got out of my walk today, and Joan didn’t go into her Cesar Milan copycat mode or insist on being “leader of the pack.” She understood that the first beautiful spring Sundays in our neighborhood are dominated by very scary noises from strange men who rev up their motorcycles and motor scooters and go around the block numerous times. And numerous means almost all day. They only stop to smoke and un-bow their legs. The grown ups do their circles on big loud bikes, and the little kids do them on little whining bikes, but they’re all loud enough to scare me. So, why do human males go in circles on loud bikes? I wonder what they see of interest after, say, the tenth or eleventh time around the loop.

Joan says they’re trying to prove that they’re men, and she wishes they’d find a better way to do it—like by picking up the garbage in the streets or by helping her carry heavy things. Anyway, the noises make me shake and worry, and I just can’t walk; Shane can’t either. I mean, the noise doesn’t scare him, but he doesn’t like to take walks without me. Isn’t that sweet?

Yesterday, I had another medicated bath, but so did Shane. I must say, we both smell like a soapy spring breeze. The buds are just peaking out of their winter hiding places, so pretty soon, everything will be green. But, how we all wish the motorcycles would break down and melt in the afternoon sun.

Best wishes, Juno

Spring & Sun: No Need for Happy Lamps

Ah, finally, after days of rain and quick walks through the raindrops, we’re out here in the sun. It’s officially spring. Now Aunt Judith can turn off her expensive “happy lights,” Joan can hang the laundry outside instead of stuffing it into the gas dryer, and we can linger in the yard and watch the neighbors’ goings on. Why, just today, someone came to visit and took this picture of Joan and us, and we got bribes so we’d act polite. Then, we went on a long walk and observed the yellow forsythia bushes, the green buds stretching their tiny arms and yawning under their thorny hats. It’s still windy, but it’s not that cold wind that makes you want to turn your back on it; it’s that warm wind that brushes so gently against my fur, I think it’s a warm kiss from my mother. I wonder what ever happened to her. Oh well; I have Joan.

Best wishes, Juno

Don't Be Scared of Me

See the new loveseat? It’s red, and thanks to Aunt Judith (it could have been pink floral, and then Joan never would have accepted it), now I have lying-down options, for it folds out into a real sort of bed, great for company in a pinch. You can never have enough sleeping areas, unless you don’t like your relatives or they don’t like you.

Not all of Joan’s relatives like dogs, you might be surprised to know. Well, they say they like us, but we can tell that it just isn’t so. They like to say they like dogs, and that’s about it. It’s okay, though. I like people; they don’t have to like me.

It’s funny when Joan walks me through the neighborhood when the tough guys are hanging out in the street. Some of them just smile and say I’m beautiful; but, others pretend they’re too cool to smile or say anything, and I can see how they take mini-steps back so they can avoid me. Sillies. They think I’ll bite them, but I never would. Shane would, but not me. But, they’re not really scared of Shane anymore, because he’s got that arthritic limp. Ha! Never let a nervous arthritic dog lull you into thinking he’s calm like me.

Anyway, it’s always funny to watch people act like they’re not afraid when they really are. I think people used to be able to smell one another’s dispositions; but you’ve lost that talent. Not dogs. We can smell exactly what you’re thinking.

Best wishes, Juno

Food, Shampoos, and Breath Mints

Now we’re getting homemade food. Try this one:

4 cups of organic vegetable broth

¼ cup brown rice

¼ little pasta

Get that boiling and then put in any vegetables and veggie burger you have in the house, and cook it all until it’s soft and thick enough to mix well with dry dog food.

Joan chopped up the following and threw it into the broth:

1 tomato, a slice of elephant garlic, two or three celery sticks, carrots, parsley, spinach.

THEN, she threw in a pound of chopped veggie burger (Ives makes the BEST).

Yummy. Shane and I gobbled it up.

I can also tell you about recent shampoos: Epi-Soothe is really good. But, today Joan tried OxyMed for my hot spots, but it didn’t lather up, and it was too stubborn to rinse out. Joan had to use the Dog Poo bar shampoo.

Another plug goes to Pet Groom Pro2. It’s a battery-powered brush that ionizes dog fur and makes it all smooth and clean. It really works! (Joan should get money for all these promotions I do.)

This has been the worst skin-problem winter of my life. But, I can’t talk forever about dog-groom products. So far, Selsen Blue and Dog Poo Shampoo are the winners. The trouble is, they don’t last for more than a week or so, and then I’m all miserable again. Shane? He’s been blessed (except for his nerves). No fur problems, no hot spots. Just arthritis—but Joan found a product for that, too. It works. It’s called Arithmine. Sometime, I’ll tell you about the yummy breath mints we get around here.

Best wishes, Juno

Freezing to Death

Winter is a fickle season. This year, it flitted from ice to sun to ice to sun. I’m beyond sad because at least two neighborhood dogs died when the ice came and their un-caretakers didn’t bother to give them shelter. Joan asked one of the culprits why she kept dogs if she didn’t want them in the house, and the woman said she didn’t want her dogs to be killed by the dog-pound people. So, is it better to be chained to a tree twenty-four hours a day and then freeze to death on a winter night? I wish there were an animal cop cruising every street.

Joan met a man in the neighborhood who had gotten a cute mutt and he wanted to breed him. Breed him? He said he’d be careful about who got the puppies, but, there’s no way to control human behavior. I just don’t understand how humans can be so cruel to animals. They’re even cruel to one another. And they always think they’re right. Winter might be fickle, but at least it isn’t stupid.