Dog is His Co-Pilot
This weekend, Christian and Jasmine learned a new trick. She is now his co-pilot.
He had wanted badly to let her run along beside him while he pedaled. So be it, I said. And, they did. It’s something. Jasmine actually pays attention to his every move, as if to say, “See? I told you I could do it!”
Kona, on the other hand, is quite perplexed. “Stay within our sight!” I yell as they ride and run off. Kona tugs on the leash, begins to wimper, moving into full whine. And, then high pitched barks. “Wait,” I scold her, “only Jasmine may do that!” Not to worry, Kona gets her chance, every once and a while. But, poor thing, she doesn’t seem to get the anticipate-the-bike and slow down parts.
Christian is happy. I am happy and predict many adventures with his co-pilot.
Dogs in Black
Ken pointed out this morning that we have yet another way to refer to Jasmine and Kona, in addition to coffee and tea: We can call them J and K, after Agents J and K in Men in Black.
Somehow, I think our dogs’ repertoire as secret agents would be more like the aliens manning the coffee station in the break room of INS Division 6 headquarters.
Walk the Walk
5:30 a.m. Eastern Standard Time. Today. I dragged myself out of bed and took the girls for a long overdue early morning walk.
Yes, getting up at the crack of dawn is one of my favorite things. But today was hard. After weeks of Christmas, flu, New Years, sinusitis, and the boys’ birthdays, it was time.
And, it was all for naught. After five days on Pacific Standard Time (another favorite thing, by the way) and one red eye flight, I will face this hurdle all too soon again.
A word from Dog
(a post from Jasmine)
Hi. Jasmine here.
I thought I’d pick up where Carol left off since she’s been quite the slacker the past few days…well, really, the past week or so. You humans and your habits. Hard to break bad ones, hard to keep good ones. Us dogs? Not an issue. For us, there’s no right or wrong. Instead, its a cinch. You guys tell us what’s right and what’s wrong. And, we get treats when we get it right! We understand you. Well, we understand what we want to hear. It’s not all this, like you think.
Now, about Kona…that little b—-h and her fancy bowl. Enough already. She gets her own special dining room, too. And then she has the gall to growl at me from within her abode when she’s done eating. B—-h. And a whole post about it? Really?
She’d better be glad she’s here because it was gonna be just me. I picked out the boy first. And then Ken picked out Kona. And then Carol decided she would come home with us.
That’s okay. Because I’m the top dog, the Getter of All Things. Need a dish towel? Got it. Looking for a shoe? No problem. A sock? Absolutely. I even clean up after Kona when she’s decided to bring dinner back up for a second round (I’ll keep it at that since you humans don’t appreciate canine gourmet).
Anyway, just wanted to chime in about me. What you see is what you get. No shame. Now, if I could just get my humans to let me sleep in the bed with them. And, I don’t understand this waiting-until-it’s-light-to-get-up-and-eat-breakfast thing.
Queen Kona and her bowl
As I passed through the living room on Saturday, I noticed Kona snuggled on the sofa with her bowl. Well, her substitute bowl. Recently, she broke her beloved ceramic one as she toted it from the powder room to the sofa. Dropped mid-prance as she just had to see what her sister was up to. That’s right, I said the powder room. Kona eats in “private” since her little yet larger sister Jasmine thinks any food in any bowl is hers to eat.
It seems since Kona’s beloved blue bowl cracked and went the way of the trash can, she has become even more possessive of its simple makeshift replacement. I teased that perhaps we need to take her shopping to Petco to pick out a new one. Just Queen Kona and her humans.
Poor Kona generally puts up with her strong, confident, alpha sibling pretty well. But, gradually, she’s figured out the food thing. The BOWL thing. And, she no longer tolerates being bullied. So, this weekend, she stood her ground. Follow the play-by-play here:
My, how they’ve grown!
A year (or seven) in two dogs’ lives: A few photos of Kona and Jasmine over the past year. 132 pounds of love.
When I am tending to Kona and Jasmine, encouraging them to “get busy” or tending to my chores as they attempt to remain calm, I often begin humming this song.
As the holidays approach, I always look forward to watching this movie again and again.
If he is close by, Ken joins in. Then we begin to sign in unison, the two whole words that we have memorized. I imagine that if the dogs were more like us monkeys, Kona would enjoy jazz, like Miles Davis, and Jasmine would belt out show tunes a la Ethel Merman.
There, now it’s in your head…hum away.