Baily Barks
Mood:  caffeinated
Bailey, mom and dad's poodle puppy, met Nina and Sonja yesterday.  I'm not sure that barking and growling from 20 feet away counts as meeting though.  Sonja slept in the bedroom unconcernedly.  Nina emerged periodically to get barked at, turn around, and walk away.

The Toto Photo Album
Mood:  chillin'
Now Playing: PES 2009

                                                   
Toto "Mandega" Romero

Carry on My Wayward Son
Mood:  sad

On Sunday Tina's teacup Yorkie, Toto, died.  She misses him very much.  I miss him also.  I owe the little guy a lot.  Although we had a rocky start we became close friends.  I won him over with my magic petting fingers and chicken liver. 

I missed him a lot this afternoon when I took my nap.  It was something that he and I used to share when I took care of him.  He would curl up next to me and I would pet him with one hand while Nina laid on my chest and I petted her with the other hand.

Greg and I were playing Rock Band 2 tonight and I sang Carry on my wayward son.  It reminded me a lot of Toto.  There's also the Toto-Kansas connection, like Wizard of Oz.

 

 

 

Carry on my wayward son
There'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more

The original Nina and Sonja pic
Mood:  chillin'

I haven't written in a very long time.  Mostly because I'm putting all this personal stuff up on FaceBook. 

 

I found this photo of the day that I met Nina and Sonja.  They weren't even Nina and Sonja yet.  Hard to believe the little tiny things in this photo became18 and 15 lbs respectively.  Ah, they used to be so cute. 

http://www.facebook.com/photo.php?pid=3079581&l=f836adfee6&id=700833551

 

Lunch At Sarrel Group

Check out the latest at the office.  We had ribs from Virgil's.  Nina and Sonja got totally swept up in the moment.  Sonja, bless her heart she's a great receptionist, remained at her post - asleep in the chair next to my desk.

Bush Marks 9/11 With Moment of Silence

Nina, Sonja, and I were reading the news this morning and we saw the story "Bush Marks 9/11 With Moment of Silence". 

And I said, in my nicest and sugariest voice, "Isn't that sweet, he's finally reacting to the events of 9/11/01."

And then Sonja topped me in my ridicule and said, "Wait, do they mean a moment of silence today, or do they mean the moment of silence 7 years ago when he sat in his limo cowering and waiting for his Daddy to tell him what to do?"

It's a beautiful day in NYC today, a beautiful day for a tribute.  The feeling that there are 3,000 souls who were wrongfully murdered about a mile from here is, has always been, and probably will always be, disconcerting to me.  In the beginning I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to honor them.  I finally reached the conclusion that no honor will ever do them justice.

And to that, Nina adds, "No honor will ever do them justice except justice itself.  The only true way to honor the victims of the tragedy is to bring those responsible to justice and prevent something this cowardly from ever happening again."

"Although," she says, "an extra can of food might help the cause."

That Son of a Bitch
Mood:  caffeinated

Do you ever wonder if your cat or dog actually pays attention to what you say?  Well, I can tell you that my parents' toy poodle, Winnie, pays attention to every word that comes out of our mouths.

When we are down the shore, there is an old man that walks down our street every morning.  He's hunched over, can barely move, and he's out there walking for his health.  It's actually admirable that he's active and committed.  So, every morning when he walks by Winnie goes crazy barking at him.  We think it is because she senses that he is old and weak and thinks she can take him.  And then I, as a joke, say to her, "That's right, Win.  Who does that son of a bitch think he is walking down your street?  You let him have it."

Yesterday, my mom and I were sitting in their winter house in the suburbs talking.  I forget what we were talking about, but I said something to the extent of "blah, blah, blah, son of a bitch."  Winnie jumped up and ran to the door barking.

The only thing that my mom and I could figure out was that she recognized the words "son of a bitch" meaning something that has to do with barking and she leapt to it.

That Son of a Bitch
Mood:  caffeinated

Do you ever wonder if your cat or dog actually pays attention to what you say?  Well, I can tell you that my parents' toy poodle, Winnie, pays attention to every word that comes out of our mouths.

When we are down the shore, there is an old man that walks down our street every morning.  He's hunched over, can barely move, and he's out there walking for his health.  It's actually admirable that he's active and committed.  So, every morning when he walks by Winnie goes crazy barking at him.  We think it is because she senses that he is old and weak and thinks she can take him.  And then I, as a joke, say to her, "That's right, Win.  Who does that son of a bitch think he is walking down your street?  You let him have it."

Yesterday, my mom and I were sitting in their winter house in the suburbs talking.  I forget what we were talking about, but I said something to the extent of "blah, blah, blah, son of a bitch."  Winnie jumped up and ran to the door barking.

The only thing that my mom and I could figure out was that she recognized the words "son of a bitch" meaning something that has to do with barking and she leapt to it.

No Sleep For Reunions
Mood:  caffeinated

I had been away for about a week when I returned home last Wednesday night.  Nina and Sonja have become very predictable.  Sonja meows and runs over to me to get petted the instant I come home.  Nina hides from me for a few hours and then starts to meow for food.

On this particular evening, I got in bed and attempted to go to sleep.  Nina kept me up all night long by rubbing against me to get petted.  It was pretty crazy.  She was rubbing her head against my hand to get petted and so I put my hands under the pillow so she started burrowing under the pillow to reach my hands.

I love my girls but I need to sleep! 

My Friend Toto
Mood:  celebratory

I've always had a little trouble with Tina's dog, Toto.  He's a tiny Yorshire terrier, a 3.5lb teacup.  We got off to a bad start when we first met and it went on for years.  He didn't trust me and I didn't trust him and it got worse and worse.  He bit me, he peed on me, and I got so mad that I hit him.  And that really made me stop and examine the situation.

For the last year and a half I've been as sweet as pie to the little guy.  I actually like him now.  It took me giving him chicken liver, taking him out for walks, and petting him gently for a long time and eventually he likes me.

Today that because apparent because I came downstairs and he ran over to me and started rolling on the floor to get petted.  For him to solicit petting from me is a big deal.  I think we're finally friends.