Menschenmassen

Before the firecrackers and civilization: Tranquility

Oh, we’ve learned our lesson: Never go to the park on a holiday, especially a spring or summer holiday. Oh, the noise, the firecrackers, the screams, the menschenmassen dashing here and there and back again. I was frightened. Joan was rattled. Shane was confused. Saki didn’t care. There weren’t many humans in the woods where we usually walk, but I could hear the loud noises, and I froze in my tracks. So we took a trail to the street to bypass the noisy people, but the cars sped by like giant motorized predators in some horror story—my horror story.

Finally, I forced Joan to turn back, to escape civilization, to take refuge in the house—windows shut, doors locked, a nice veggie burger in the barby.

Well, the next day, while everyone was sleeping “it” off, we took another walk. This time there was peace in our little part of the world. It’s just the best when the people are sleeping it off.

Best wishes, Juno

The Fly and the Secret

When I was younger, I didn’t mind chasing a fly every now and then. But, these days, flies are annoying. So, I was very upset this afternoon when a fly came into the sunroom and started buzzing around as though it had the right to be there. Joan opened the door to let it escape, but I escaped instead. As fast as my legs would carry me, I ran to the corner of the yard—a little triangular haven under the vines where it smells like mint—and hid. No flies there. It’s my secret spot.

It was a lovely time. But, then Shane and Saki came along and I had to sit around with them and pretend I didn't have a secret.

Best wishes, Juno

Careful What You Wish For

So, it’s true—be careful what you wish for, because it might come true. A few weeks ago, I wished we’d stay home and skip the long walks for a while. So, what happens? Joan gets sick, and we get stuck at home for a whole week. No more wishing, okay?

Well, today, we went back to the park and took the short trail. It was still pretty muddy from all the rain, but it was peaceful enough and not too exhausting. We’re trying to get a few pounds off Shane, so we’ll have to keep Joan healthy, at least until Shane drops five or maybe ten pounds. Okay, five.

Shane’s trying very hard to be tolerant of Saki. I commend the effort. He’s a good dog. Sometimes I let him know that.

Best wishes, Juno

Bee Hunter

Whew. No park, but just as exhausting. Saki went on a bee hunt, circling the big azalea bush hundreds of times, jumping, running, hopping, digging, barking—all for the thrill of capturing the bees that sup on its sweet nectar. He almost caught one once or twice, but destiny wasn’t on Saki’s side. Or maybe it was; after all, he could have gotten stung.

He has some talents, and maybe we should hire him out. He can root out termites; chase squirrels off your property, you know, so they don’t climb up to the roof and build nests in your attic; he can wake people and dogs out of bad dreams by kissing them; he can clean crumbs from your floor; and, now, he can rid your azalea bushes of bees.

After all that running around, Shane and I were tired, you know, from watching. Eventually, Saki got tired, too. So, we sat in the yard and panted until the sun went down. And when the ice-cream truck passed the house, we didn’t even bother to get up.

Best wishes, Juno

The Emotional Eating of Chairs

1. Talk about a good healthy appetite! Saki ate Karen Fontana’s chair. Sorry Karen.

2. That used to be a ball.

Today I watched Saki and Ish run around for an hour or so. But, every time they ran through the backyard, Saki stopped to look at the chair that was parked on the walkway looking very much out of place. “Something is out of place,” he kept thinking. And he was right. I mean, what would an indoor chair be doing sitting in the afternoon sun?

I guess Saki forgot that he had eaten the chair, and Joan put it outside to strip it of its remaining stuffing. Maybe someday she’ll reupholster it; maybe she’ll never get to it. But, it certainly can’t stay in the house with that yellow foam spilling out all over the floor. Good thing Saki didn’t eat Aunt Judith’s couch or Uncle Tony’s sculptures. Wow. Talk about a disaster!

The problem is that Saki is afraid to be left alone—that is, without humans to reassure him with their honeyed love talk. So every time someone has to go to work, he gets all abandonment-issued and turns to emotional eating. Chairs, curtains, bedding, socks—anything but the hundreds of toys scattered all about for his amusement. Dr. Phil? Cesar Milan?

Once, long ago, I must admit I ate the tv changer.

Best wishes, Juno

Forbidden Treasures

Everyone has noticed that I've lost a little weight. I did if for myself, of course, not to please the vet or anyone else. Those walks in the park are really paying off—at least for me. Shane hasn't lost any weight, and we're wondering if he's got a hidden stash of tasty treasures that he snags when no one is looking.

Speaking of which: Saki was here for the weekend. Now, we all love Saki—at least, some of us do for he's really irresistibly cute—but, he has a major problem; that is, he eats everything in sight when he's left alone. Pillows become shredded pieces of foam, rugs disappear entirely, tiles from Italy crack and lose their corners, and—here’s the piéce de resistance, as they say: The other day, when no one was looking, Saki jumped up on the table and attacked a pan of bread dough! Joan was on the phone with Jaaron when she heard the plate that had been covering the dough crash to the floor.

“Oh, no! My bread dough” she exclaimed, distressed.

And Saki growled and jumped off the table. Jaaron was listening to all this on the other end of the phone in San Francisco, and she thought it was very very funny, so she laughed and laughed all the way from the west coast and back.

Joan patted what was left of the almost-rising dough into a circle and stuck it in the oven, saying that at least it was whole wheat dough and had lots of dates, raisins, and nuts—you know, protein for Saki. Nuts! I don’t know if dogs should eat nuts. Well, that was two days ago, and Saki's iron stomach is just fine. He keeps checking out the table to see if there’s more contraband to be ingested.

Forbidden fruit—it’s the best. Right, Saki?

Best wishes, Juno

Play Fight, Play Fight

They’re at it again: Ish and Saki running off steam; Shane getting steamed up just sitting there; me trying to enjoy a spring day in the yard with not too much success. Saki and Ish ran around for 90 minutes this afternoon. Once in a while they stopped for water, and then they started in again without resting even for a minute. Yikes. Too much energy for my taste.

Joan let Shane come outside for a few minutes, you know, so he could feel included. But he doesn’t understand that play fighting is play fighting and has nothing to do with the real thing. So, he got all angry and started to growl, which made Ish quite nervous; so Joan took him back inside where he sat and wondered why life is shaded with so my complicated subtleties. Angry is no way to be. But, it doesn’t hurt to wonder about life.

Best wishes, Juno