The old dogs are really old...

Bart is still arthritic, but the vet suspects that there is something more going on with him.

Lisa had surgery last Thanksgiving, to remove a tumor that had grown on her chest, right under her throat. She has recovered very well, but we are sure she has cancer. She doesn't seem to be in any distress, as far as pain goes- she just seems like Lisa, only a bit sleepier.

Dixie got to do with The Dad when he went to town! That dog loves to go! Just show her the red leash, she does flips, jumping about 4feet in the air! Funny to watch her.....

When the vehicle is moving, she is as quiet and still as she can be. She watches the road ahead, as though she has to be aware of what is going on, lest something goes WRONG! She pays attention.

The dogs, especially Bart, like to drink from the pond, and this has caused some concern. No, I am not afraid they will 'catch something'. I am worried they will fall in the pond! Bart has fallen in on more than one occasion, and he can't get out. Well, he could get out, but he needs to turn to the right just a step or two, and he could walk out. It shallows up to a beach there, but Bart doesn't know this.

Therefore, guess who is out with Bart in the middle of the night? Yep, ME! I wonder why The Dad doesn't ever have to do that?

Poor Bart-Bart

This Dixiedog is in an ornery mood today. She posed for me in this picture, and for once didn't have her ears laid back.

I think she is trying to blend in with her surroundings here. Notice the stripes on the ground and on her too? LOL, she is a beast!

Bart is not feeling well. He has arthritis, and the cool weather just makes him miserable.

I think he wishes I would just give him his drugs and leave him the heck alone.

Probably so.

My dogs....

My dogs live in the house. In the bedroom, specifically, usually on my bed.

My spouse is fine with that, and has been known to sneak a dog into the bed against strict orders, only to deny it in the morning. The dogs get the blame, though we all know differently.

My spouse loves our dogs. Sometimes I wonder who is first in his heart, me or them. I don't think I really want to know.

My dogs- we have 3- are creatures who know all about comfort. They have never known a night outdoors, although they are required to take their meals out on the back porch. We don't keep food or water dishes in the house. They have a 'dedicated' water line, with a lick thingie on it for their hydration needs.Plus they can always drink from the pond, in an emergency.

The 'old puppies' are going to be 14 in the Spring. They are a Blue Heeler/Lab cross, brother and sister. We had lost our Doberman, and the old boxer we had was 'lonesome'. HA! I don't think she was a bit lonesome! She was not pleased when we came home with not one puppy, but TWO puppies! We went after one little female, and this male puppy was soooooo handsome, we had to have him too.

I should inject a little naggy advice here; DON'T EVER bring home two pups from the same litter. They stay puppies FOREVER, bond with each other more than they do with you, and are like two year old twins! All bad stuff.

Of course, when they mature, they do become very bonded with mommie and daddy. They get much smarter, and besides, they want to sleep in the bed.We named them Bart and Lisa, after Bart Simpson, and his smarter sister, Lisa. These dogs parallel the characters in the cartoon closely.

Bart is very handsome, and he looks like a black lab with silver spots. He is laid back, very calm.Lisa is much more alert. She is shorter, built like a Blue Heeler, and that is what she looks like. She looked like a Red Merle when she was young, but looks more black and silver as she ages. She would bite a bull on the nose in a heartbeat. She is the smart one of the two, the one with energy. She would eat herself to death tho, and we always have to have her on a diet. A Serious Diet

The third dog is a young Boxer female, named Dixie. Love of my life, bane of my existance. I fondly refer to her as my boxer/terrorist cross. She is a challenge.

Dixie was kind of a 'rescue dog'. She belonged to an elderly man, who died when she was about 6 months old. His daughter brought Dixie home with her, but she had to stay in a pen outside. This pen had 6' board walls, and nobody ever went to talk to Dixie, nor play with her. She developed some bad habits.

When we were offered the dog, my husband said no, because he was familiar with Boxer temperament, and he didn't think Dixie could adjust to our family.

Again, the lady pressed us to take her, and this time, she shared that her husband was going to 'do something bad to Dixie' if she wasn't gone from there. He did not like her at all.

Soooo.....I went and got her. The lady wasn't home, I just put a leash on her and walked her to my truck. She sat up in the seat, watching what was going on around us. When we got home, she wouldn't come in the house; she was afraid. THEN.....Spouse put her on the bed, and talked to her for a few minutes. That was all it took. She lived here, IN the house, In the bed, and that was that.

It is about 3 years later now. Dixie is MY dog. She has absolutely bonded to me. Talks to me incessantly, and is never far from where I am. Dixie runs the place.

EXCEPT.......I threw away that king-sized bed, and replaced it with a double size, extra thick mattress and box spring on the antique iron bed that I inherited from my Mama. The top of the mattress is at least waist-high to me. Dixie CAN get up there, but it is such an effort, she doesn't bother. I have a foot stool to aid me in getting into my bed.

It is called "Self Defense".