Friday, December 01, 2006


Here we are at an Oregon coastal village, walking the board walk, doing what dogs do best: Sniff, sniff, pee, pee, bark, bark, squat, squat, etc. Our girls just like to have fun even though they don't look like it here. They hate being held and having their pictures taken.

The two dogs always have short hair. Our groomer, Becky, gives the girls a shampoo, a haircut, cuts their nails and then does something with their rear end. This "maneuver" is designed to relieve a gland in this area and in turn stops the need for the dog to slide around the carpet on their butt.

Ever see that? It's pretty funny to see one of the dogs sliding around the carpet on their butt seemingly wiping the old slate clean. Actually they're not doing that but soothing an itching butt gland. Massaging the butt gland once a month will stop that sliding around the carpet on the butt stuff. We don't try that at home. We leave butt gland massasges to Becky the Groomer.

Short hair is not the norm for Pomeranians but the norm for our two. Short hair makes for less mess in the house, faster grooming, a cooler dog in the summer (we let their coats grow a bit longer during the winter months) and easier to spot the tick or two each seem to pick up in the backyard every week.

With their hair cut short people don't recognize our dogs as being Poms. We're constantly asked whenever and where ever we walk the dogs, "What are they?" "Are they puppies? How old are they?" I'm buying a t-shirt: They're Pomeranians . . . on one side and on the back of the t-shirt, The largest Pom is 7 and the smallest is 8 years of age. This will stop all those damn questions.

I once told an inquisitive lady that the dogs were Himalayan bear cubs. Hook, line and sinker, she bought it. I loved it.

An early morning call this morning got me out of bed.

Hello, is Valli there?

I could see on our caller ID that the call was from Who's Who Direct in New York state. It was a woman who never identified herself or who she was working for. It felt like I was talking to a collection agency. The phone call had that kind of tone to it.

Do you know what time it is in California?

I know what time it is in California.

Ooooo, the tone of her voice got my back up. It was attitude time.

Don't you think it's a bit early to call? And besides, there's no Valli here.

Is this 666-666-666?

Yes and there's no Valli here!

You're not very nice.

At this time of the morning I'm never ever nice and you're not very nice either so good-bye!

Click. I actually said something else to end the conversation but I won't repeat it here.

I used to work with a lady named Valli. I'm going to have to call Valli and ask why she's using my phone number. There are only so many Valli's in Cow Town.

That's how my Friday started. It can only get better.

TGIF! which stands for Thank Goodness It's Friday as well as Toes Go In First - the first lesson in putting your shoes on.

Have a great day and a wonderful weekend. Posted by Picasa

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Whiskeytown Lake, Very Northern California, United States