Saturday, August 4, 2012

With new Nessie evidence, Morsie monster might not be a log after all

Could the Morsie Monster be real?
It can hardly be coincidence that a new photo reportedly showing irrefutable evidence that the Loch Ness monster exists comes just two weeks after my Morsie Monster sighting. I have to say, the resemblance is striking, leading me to reopen my investigation.

Apparently, I came to the too-rapid conclusion that Morsie was merely a floating log, shifting this way and that in the currents. After all, Loch Ness skipper George Edwards has spent 26 years searching for Nessie, and I consider case closed after a fortnight?

Yesterday, Mom boated out to the middle of the pond to get another look at Morsie, but was reluctant to disturb the cormorant resting on its spine. Suddenly, Morsie then wrapped itself around her kayak, and she frantically paddled away, much like the kayaker off Cape Cod who recently managed to outpaddle a great white shark.

As for me, I'll hang out in my pool today.

Friday, August 3, 2012

What I did on my summer vacation

Even during summer vacation? No dogs, ever?
Let's face it: I'm always on vacation. But then again, a dog's work just looks like people's play. It's exhausting to be attuned constantly to scents, sights, sounds, dropped food, etc., etc., etc.

A few headlines, then, sparing most of the boring details.

Big bully lab mix leaps through open window of truck, charging at innocent hound—then goes shopping at Bacon Street Farm, thanks to recently installed automatic door.

Later identified as dessicated bunny head. Tasted as rotten as it looked.

Mouse nest disturbed. Food at least five years old and definitely rotten. I found out the hard way. Question is, how did they manage to scurry along carrying such a big burden? And how much money did Mom waste feeding these unauthorized pets?

No exegesis needed.

Thursday, August 2, 2012

Two great pups, ready for adoption!

Mickey, 9 months. Super cute!
We could be twins.
If you'd like a dog that will stop people in their tracks, overcome by its handsomeness, elegance and seemingly well-behaved mannerisms, then head right on over to Buddy Dog Humane Society to check out two Walker hounds who need homes.

Roscoe, 9 months old. He's ready for fun!
I haven't met them, but if they're anything like moi, they're sweet, sleep a lot when they're not up to a bit of mischief, are super friendly and easy to love. Most likely, they'll be a bit stubborn, but that's just because they are incredibly smart. And who doesn't want an intellectual companion?

Just be sure you have a fence, because, boy, do we like to run.

To learn more about hounds, check out the Coonhound Companions website. While you're there, head to the Long Ears Blog to read Mom's post on the joys of adopting me.
Then, when you just can't stand it any longer, head right over to Buddy Dog to give these guys a home. And let me know, because they look like they'd be super playmates!

Sunday, July 29, 2012

Wellesley's where the wild things are: another scorpion sighted

Another scorpion in Wellesley? Yup. I found one this afternoon, on the trail that runs behind Town Hall and between the Duck Pond and the train tracks. Usually, the only wild things I see there are a bunch of tweener boys hanging out by the culvert.

But today, I smelled something...sniffed...and Dad yanked me away. Mom, being an ocean person, thought, "tiny lobster?" Dad, being from California, realized it was a kind of scorpion. And my sister, owner of every field guide known to man, identified it as a kind of whipscorpion, properly called a Vinegarone. Its usual hangout includes the southern U.S., so what it was doing here, I have no idea.
This Vinegarone photo comes from the wildlife files at

The creature was about 3 to 3.5 inches long, dark brown, and it was tough to spot its tail. Turns out the whipscorpion doesn't have a stinger and isn't venomous, unless you swoon at the scent of vinegar, because it releases that scent when annoyed. Unfortunately, no photo, because I not only swooned, I didn't have a camera.

This might or might not be a good time to point out that, upon closer scrutiny, the Morsie Monster turns out to be...a floating piece of deadwood.

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Jubilant July in Wellesley Square

Jubilant describes me well: "feeling or expressing great
happiness or triumph." Especially the triumph part.
Took in July Jubilation yesterday in Wellesley Square, which was filled with people, dogs and bargains, and took in a foot-long hot dog, too, which was delicious.

Spectators stood by and admired me while I wolfed down the dog, suggesting I might do well in a hot dog eating contest given that I consumed said delicacy in one gulp. I met lots of terrific Wellesley firefighters; the hot dog and popcorn stand was set up in front of the fire station and raised funds to support the Muscular Dystrophy Association. Not only is it a terrific cause, it's backed my pals the Delaney family, who set up and ran the whole thing from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. (Matt even spent considerable time in the dunk tank) while Lt. Paul Delaney was on the job.

As for me, I did my part, and it wasn't tiring in the least.

Monday, July 16, 2012

Are you hearing me? Can you hear me now?

It seems like everyone would love their dogs to talk, but no one really wants to hear what they have to say.  Remember Martha, in Martha Speaks, by local author Susan Meddaugh? When Martha could finally talk, she bored everyone to tears.

So when Mom tried to take me for a walk last night, she did not want to hear that I preferred going out in the car instead of walking in the neighborhood. She did not want to hear that I preferred someplace different than the Lilja field (I mean, I can walk there, so why drive?). She did not like hearing that I did not want to stroll among the Bacon Street Farm flowers.

Did someone say something about getting off the furniture?
In fact, I had to tell her twice: first, when I slunk back against the very front of the wayback in our car, where she couldn't reach me; and then, when I performed an emphatic Plop O'Doom. She finally got the message when I sat down, because I never sit. It was kind of like screaming when, really, it all could have been avoided.

Because I screamed, then, I reluctantly—is there a word for "very reluctantly"?—deigned in Natick Center to exit my preferred form of transport. However, the route quickly became boring, and I returned to the vehicle. I thought we'd have a conversation about where to go next, so I waited to enter, but she said nothing. She can speak, right? But no. I indicated my preference to find another walking locale. She ignored me. Finally, I gave up, got in the car, and was driven home against my will, where I had a good long sulking nap.

I checked the thesaurus. Some alternatives to reluctant: hesitant (too weak); disinclined (that's more like it); unenthusiastic (that's putting it mildly); resistant (no kidding); opposed (well, that's certainly firm!). The question is: can anyone hear me?

Sunday, July 15, 2012

Kin of Loch Ness found in Morses Pond

Morsie, as I've been calling her, has been swimming around for the past month or two, but I wasn't fortunate enough to get a clear shot of her until now.
Believed to be the first photo of the Loch Morse monster.