Saturday, May 16, 2015

Let sleeping dogs...

So I'm out on my usual walk, take my usual roll or two in the long grass—it feels really good on my back—and snatch the opportunity for a short nap.

Mom, who's been hobbling ever since the Boston Marathon, is exhausted at this point in the 3-mile loop. She plops down next to me, so of course I pop right up, if only to give her a little more exercise.

We trundle off toward home, when a neighbor drives by.

"Is your dog OK?" she asks Mom.


"He was lying down, and I wondered if he was sick or something," she said. "I thought he might need a ride home."

If anyone needed a ride home, it was Mom, I would have said, but I was already off, running like the wind. Too bad there's not a Boston Marathon for dogs.

Sunday, April 19, 2015

Wellesley Strong!

Thought you heard sirens on Washington St. Sat. a.m.?
No, that was just me, singing away.
I showed up to add a little life to the Wellesley Strong photo shoot on Saturday morning. It was a gorgeous day, and I bayed up a storm just to keep things interesting.

I foresee a new career: making sure everyone's smiling at whatever event causes one to hire a photog. Preferably an outdoor event--earplugs might interfere with guests' fashion statements.
Thanks to Elaine Marten for organizing this opportunity to show our community support for our marathon runners! Thanks to Maura Wayman for laughing at my antics, not being startled off her ladder, and for her great photographs!

Make sure you're out on the course tomorrow, cheering on the runners in the rain! Unfortunately, I have an important sleeping engagement and will miss the race.

Grand opening at the Wellesley RDF

Just after Opening Day (not that Opening Day, silly, this is Swellesley) I showed up to browse the castoffs at the world-famous Take It or Leave It, where Mom has scooped up many a pricey object--last year's prize being a $500 leather satchel in primo condition.

We took a carload o'stuff, also in perfectly good shape, and then I sniffed around.

Lots of good smells, but otherwise I found little to interest me except for a couple of dog related items: a Scooby-Doo chia pet and a toy dachshund, who didn't look like he'd be all that fun to play with.

Thanks to the volunteer Friends of Recycling, everything was organized and shipshape.
Like the good citizen I am,
I left the chia pet for someone else to enjoy.

Saturday, April 4, 2015

Day in the life: crashed a party, scared the Easter Bunny

Like my sister, who would choose only one egg of each color
and leave the rest to her friends, I shared this egg with a new pal, Drew.

On my way to have the usual at Petco Unleashed in Wellesley—the usual being a mouthful of free treats generously available at the counter—I noticed tons of small children, some toting Easter baskets, heading inside.

Too many were streaming in to have mistaken it for a birthday party at GlowGolf next door, but a bevy of small children doesn't intimidate me, so I trotted on in.

The Easter Bunny has a good startle reflex.
Petco's kind staffers bustled about, dropping plastic eggs in strategic locations. My ears perked up: my predecessor, Sparky, loved cracking those eggs to find the dog treats hidden inside. Maybe I could practice my skills.

But no. This egg hunt was for children only, I was told. So I left the eggs alone and pointed a cute little guy, Drew, toward the ones hidden in the tennis ball bin.

No one, however, restricted me from visiting the Easter Bunny. I was excited. I have a bunny brother at home, and the idea of meeting The Big Bun made my heart race.

I have to say, I was a bit disappointed. Though I was extremely well-behaved and patiently waited my turn (unlike a boorish black lab who shoved his way through the crowd and then snapped at me), E.B. seemed to find me, a dog in a dog store, rather unexpected. Not only did he have no treats for me, he seemed a bit—afraid? Afraid of being upstaged, perhaps.

I could have gone mano a mano with him, because he seemed ready, or insisted on being in all of the photos with the children, but instead did the gentlemanly thing: gave E.B. some space, and moved on.

Monday, March 23, 2015

Goodbye, Kym! Bookstore manager (and hound) leave Wellesley

A mournful bay upon Kym's leaving. She's leaving,
I'm staying.
One of my very favorite friends, Kym Havens, assistant manager at Wellesley Books, is pulling up stakes in Wellesley and heading to Plainville, Mass., to help open a new bookstore for Jeff Kinney, author of the wildly popular Diary of a Wimpy Kid children's book series.

I'll be missing Kym's farewell gala, as it interferes with my nap schedule, so I called on her late this afternoon just before she headed out.

Rather than taking the trouble to page her, I let out a few bays, which is usually enough to bring all of my admirers to my side, proffering treats, backrubs, etc. And you thought this was a bookstore!
Kym leaves to join former store manager Deb Sundin, who left Wellesley Books last year to embark on this new venture. Check out the interior in progress here.

Kym never failed to laugh at my antics. I actually inspired her to adopt a Walker hound of her very own, Junebug, as if her pup Biscuit didn't do enough to entertain her. The two pups have become great pals and partners in crime.

Kym and Junebug certainly will be back, because however awesome her new store will be, it will have a NO DOGS ALLOWED policy (unlike the fabulous Wellesley Books). That's because the bookstore includes a cafe, and somehow, people in Plainville don't seem to understand that it's people who make things dirty and dogs who clean them up. From my experience browsing around Boloco's outdoor space (after hours of course), I can tell you I do my best to keep that sidewalk spanking clean.

If anyone is up to the challenge of opening a new store, it's Kym, with her great good humor, patience and, of course, excellence at bookselling and managing. I have offered to serve on the screening committee for her successor.
Dearest Kym, I will miss you. Love to Junebug (Biscuit, too.)

Monday, March 9, 2015

Dog park for Wellesley's North 40? Hey, Ellen, how about it?

Cooper the Goldendoodle before Wellesley firefighters rescued him.
Image from Wellesley Police Department video. Watch it here.
Just thought I'd weigh in —all 87.7 lbs. of me — before the going gets tough on exactly what is going in, or on, the North 40 property. And what a cure for winter weight that would be—a fenced place to gallop around and meet up with some friends.

Here's what made me think of it: not just the sight of poor Cooper, who didn't know what he was getting into when he ventured onto the icy Charles River at Elm Bank this week, and those brave firefighters who jumped into the water to save him, but looking over at a pack of dogs racing around Morses Pond this afternoon.

They really should not have been there. Safely frozen? Maybe, maybe not. Sections of the western shore certainly are mushy, and there's one part that never freezes.

Maybe Ellen DeGeneres, who generously offered another group of Wellesley firefighters a Caribbean cruise for their heroic rescue of a dog just before Christmas last year—also at Elm Bank—,will step up and give the town of Wellesley something it obviously needs—and which won't challenge state ethics laws: a dog park. The North 40 might be just the place for it.

Monday, February 23, 2015

If you take away a dog's chair...or, the dangers of HGTV

This morning's rude awakening.

Now, Mom doesn't watch TV (even on the treadmill), but that whole HGTV-like deal about every part of your home being perfect all the time has, rather unfortunately, seeped into our own home. It could be severe nesting syndrome, it could be the grim cold, but all I know is how it's affecting me.

To wit:

If you take away a dog's chair, he'll find a couch to sleep on
(preferably newly upholstered, although I could have done without having to move the just-cleaned carpet put on there in the vain hopes I would find it to be an obstacle);
if you take away a dog's couch, he'll find a bed to sleep on;
if you bother the dog by ironing nearby, he'll find another bed;
if you annoy the dog by vacuuming within twenty feet of said bed, he'll find yet another bed;
when the sun moves from that spot, he'll find...
a sunny couch to sleep on.

And when you move him from the couch...
he'll make you take him for a walk.
If I'm looking a bit devilish, it's because this photo was taken
preparatory to yet another unceremonius upheaval.