Fleetingly Carol

"The hardest part was yet to come." It's been a while since I checked in. I hope everything is well with you, Dear Reader. Things seem to be calming down in our little corner of the world. "The hardest part" that was "yet to come" has come and gone. And Princess and I have been busy ever since. Old Man, Younger Son and Awesome Grandson made certain that Princess was safe that awful night. The next morning, I went out to the dog run to see how Princess was doing. Since the storm was gone, she was considerably more calm. She allowed me to check the pads on her front paws. Everything checked out alright. Then, I couldn't help it, Dear Readers, but I fussed and fussed and fussed, then hugged and petted the poor puppy. Wagging tail, licking tongue, wiggling body all told me that the fear from last night was gone. I put the leash on her, and she was so very happy as we exited her pen and began to run. The first task is to teach her to behave

The Devil had passed, but not Princess’ memory of him. She stayed with the shakes, like the DTs. She shook so violently inside the crate, I was afraid for her.  The wild dog came out in her as we tried to approach the crate to check on her wounds. We couldn’t open it for fear that she would escape and try to dig a hole in the floor or couch again. Old Man and I decided it was time to call Eldest Son. He told us that if we couldn’t keep her, call him. We couldn't and we did. Eldest Son had just lost his job, his car was repossessed and was in no way able to come to our aid. He lived several states away. We talked and we cried. We came up with this solution and that solution, but none were acceptable. He finally said the most feared words, words that I knew were coming, but didn’t want to accept. He had a friend who practiced veterinary medicine and who lived close to us. Eldest Son said he would make the call. As we were talking, Eldest Son was on speaker-phone so Old Man cou

         The trees did their voodoo dance, conjuring up a thunderstorm to rain down on our little house. Old Man was on the lawn tractor, completely oblivious to the warning signs, ears plugged up with strains of Satchmo. The first drops of rain on his glasses sent him into action.           He drove the lawn mower across the yard and into the shed, hopped off and ran to Poor Hound Dog who is being treated for heart worms. He wanted to get him into the house before he became too excited about the Devil bearing down. He glanced in Princess Super-girl's pen to make sure she was secure and safe. Leading Poor Hound Dog across the yard, Old Man remembered the windows were down in his truck. Remembering the windows down in his truck led him to look over at the neighbor’s vehicle to check their windows. They were down. Now it was a race to the finish.            Poor Hound Dog had to be kept very calm, because any active behavior may break up a clump of heart worms in his veins tha

Eldest son gave Old Man and me a gift that keeps on giving. And, for no reason! It wasn't Christmas, an anniversary or either of our birthdays. My mother would say he's awfully 'thoughty'. And it was a tremendous gift! One that I would not have ever thought to get for myself. The gift is about 2 feet tall and weighs around 45 to 50 pounds. It leaps tall buildings and stops a speeding bullet. No, that's not right. It leaps hurricane fences and scales 6 foot tall dog runs. And stops at nothing to get in the house when someone is shooting a gun, or there is thunder, or the door is open, or another dog has entered the house. Any of these reasons. Yes, you've guessed it - it's a dog. A Catahoula Leopard Dog, to be exact! Old Man and I already have 2 dogs. Girlie-Girl is a 25 pound Heinz 57 and looks like a big Miniature Pincher. She is very well behaved, never jumps up on people; she doesn't bark much; she's small and compact; she comes when she