Passing the Terrier Torch

“Psst - JoLee!”

JoLee’s head turned so fast, you could almost hear his neck-bones pop.

“Wha - Who is that? Is that you, Tim?”

Tim’s little head bobbed. “C’mere, Jo.”

Jo’s little butt hit the dirt. “I don’t trust you, Tim. What do you want?”

Tim sighed. “I - I just need to tell you a few things. I’m not going to be here much longer, and I wanted to tell you some stuff that I don’t want Star to hear.”

This was sounding more interesting.

Tim sat up with some effort, and then came out from under the juniper bush where he had been resting. He looked awful, and smelled worse.

“Ugh, Tim. What’s with the smell, dude?”

Tim looked down at himself. “Yeah, well, I guess that’s what kidney failure does to a dog - makes them stink worse than something they’d want to roll in.” He sat up a little taller, marshaled his resources, and took a deep breath. “Okay, I think I’m ready. I’m going to need you to take care of some things after I leave.”

JoLee cocked his head to one side. “Where are you going, Tim? Can I come with you?”

Tim barked a laugh. “No, JoLee, you cannot. You have to take care of Mom and Dad until it’s your turn. Nobody gets to go before it’s their time. That’s part of the rules.” He found a comfy place to lay down in the sun and looked up at Jo. “Now come here and be still for a bit.”

JoLee came closer and sat right in front of Tim - unfortunately, right in the middle of his sunny spot. Tim moved over so he was in the full sun again. He squinted up at JoLee.

“First of all, I wanted to tell you about my ear tattoo. See it?” He flipped his earflap up, so JoLee could see the faded blue letters. “Mom and Dad have wondered about that all my life, and I couldn’t tell them. But I will tell you. I got this tattoo when I was just a pup - and it cost me some Greenies, I can tell you that.”

“What are ‘Greenies,’ Tim?”

Tim snorted in annoyance. “Don’t interrupt. I used to eat Greenies all the time, until things started going downhill. They were like doggy ambrosia and nectar condensed down into - oh, never mind. You wouldn’t understand unless you’d had one, and Mom doesn’t keep them in the cupboard anymore. And we’re getting off track again.”

He pushed one little paw ahead of him. “Now, the letters of my tattoo spell out "CRAMEK," and I chose them very carefully. This is what they stand for:

C - Courageous
R - Resolute
A - Alert
M - Most
E - Excellent
K - Killer

Jo tilted his head to the other side. “Most Excellent Killer?” Couldn’t you have come up with something better than that?”

“Hey! I said don’t interrupt. And don’t criticize, either. Anyway, it was the best I could come up with at the time. I was a young and impetuous pup.” Tim shifted to his other side - he seemed really uncomfortable. “That tattoo reminded me every single day of the Terrier I wanted to be.” Tim shifted again. He lifted one eyebrow and said, seriously: “Now, I haven’t told anyone else any of what I’m telling you today.”

Jo laid down in front of Tim. “There’s more? Why aren’t you telling anyone else? How can I get a cool tattoo like yours? Why don’t you have any dewclaws? Where are you going?”

“Whoa! Whoa! Settle down, Jo!” Tim laughed. “First of all, I’m telling you because Star just isn’t built like you and me. How can I put this?” He pursed his lips, head cocked to one side and looked up at the sky. “Okay. You know that different Skinfolk just feel different, right?”

“Right. Like Mom feels happy and sunny, but with some thunderclouds, and Dad feels - well, constant.” Jo nodded.

“That’s it exactly!” Tim exclaimed. “I knew I chose well.” He leaned forward. “Well, Star is one of the constant ones. She’s sturdy, she’s steady, she’s solid and that runs right through her character. You and I, well, we have a little more of a mischievous side to us. We’re a little more . . .”

“Like Loki!” Jo declared.

Tim was taken aback. “Loki? Why would you choose him, in particular, Jo? Where did you hear about Loki?”

JoLee grinned, panting in the bright sunshine. “I dunno,” he shrugged. “It just kind of came out. Why, what’s wrong with Loki?”

Tim considered. “Well, Loki is a Norse god, and he gave birth to Fenrir, the wolf. He was a trickster, but things didn’t end well for him. He was kind of bad, too. We’re not bad.”

“So, we’re good Loki’s, then?” JoLee asked, his blue/brown eyes twinkling.

Tim shrugged. “I guess it doesn’t really matter. I prefer to think of us as Cadejos, myself.” His brow wrinkled. “It does go to show that you never know what memories you’re born with, though . . .” He came back to the present, and his deep brown eyes refocused on JoLee’s bright blue ones.

And then he began to talk.


(See Star’s Journal for the rest of the story)

Valentine Tag

Well, I got tagged by Spring, so I’ll take a minute out of my very busy schedule, and list 5 Valentine Wishes. Then, I guess I get to Valentine Tag 5 other Pups!

1. I won’t eat any of the mice I catch. It just doesn’t seem right. I will roll on them, though, repeatedly. That’s how I kill them. Sad, but true. I don’t mean to kill them, they just get kind of squashed and then they don’t move any more.

2. I hardly ever go on morning walks with Winnie and Star. I’d rather sleep in, thankyouverymuch.

3. Every night, at precisely 8:00 (unless I get screwed up by Daylight Savings Time or Standard Time changes), I do my Greenie Dance until Mom fetches me my evening Greenie.

4. I’ve recently Discovered Myself. Each evening I set aside a short period of time in which have my own private Pud Party (that’s what Mom and Dad call them) in the corner of the couch. If you don’t know what a Pud Party is, I’m not going to tell you. It’s Personal.

5. I’m afraid of darkened doorways. I think it’s a fallback to when I was lost, but there you have it. I’ll take my walks nicely lit.

“Uh, Tim?”

“Yes, Star, what is it?”

“Well, you were supposed to say something about Valentine’s Wishes, not hang out your dirty laundry for everyone.”

Oh - Valentine’s WISHES. Not interesting things to tell about me? Oh. How embarrassing. I guess I was preoccupied or something. Well, then. That puts a whole new (and less fuzzy) complexion on it. Uh, never mind that last list - especially Number 4. Wishes are easy:

1. Greenies. Lots of Greenies.

2. Grammy’s Pot Pie. Lots of Grammy’s Pot Pie.

3. More pet therapy sessions. I love the way those folks taste. Yum.

4. More time with Mom. Doing anything, going anywhere. I love my Mom.

5. More time with Dad - especially when I get to lay on top of him and take a nap while he’s “watching t.v.”

Let’s see. Who shall I tag?

Colyn
Mokey
Riley
Sadie
Dani

You’re it!

Tim.

I was Tagged by Axel and Sadie!

The Rules
(Hint: Copy and paste the rules so you don't have to type them again):

Each player starts with seven random facts about themselves. Dogs who are tagged need to post in their diary the rules and their 7 pawsome facts. Then choose 7 dogs to tag and list their names. Don’t forget to bark them a pmail that they have been tagged and to read your diary, or, send them a fun Rosette announcing they've been Tagged!

My Seven Random Facts:

1. Every night at 8:00 sharp, I do my Greenie Dance in order to get Mom to fetch me my Evening Greenie. I dance around and throw my head over my shoulder and make soft little barking sounds. I know, it sounds weird, but it makes the ‘Folks laugh, and it Always gets me my Evening Greenie.

2. I insist that every Skinperson coming out of the Downstairs Bathroom pay the Puppy Biscuit Toll. Enforcement consists of standing right outside the door and refusing to move until the person gives me one of my favorite Diet Iams biscuits from the jar on the bookshelf.

3. I can’t hold my Licker. I admit it. People either love me or hate me because of it, but that’s just the way I am, and they can either take it or leave it.

4. My favorite places to ride in the Dogmobile are: (i) sitting on Mom’s right arm; (ii) laying in the passenger seat in the front; or (iii) sprawled out in the very farthest back part, next to the back door.

5. I bark to get Star in trouble. It works every single time.

6. I have a secret hiding place in the juniper bush. I’ve dug a nice hole there and sometimes I hide there when Mom comes outside wondering where I am. I always come out eventually, though. I can’t help it - I love my Mom.

7. I hate skateboards and anything that has wheels that sound like skateboards. They are all Instruments of the Devil, are Unnatural and should be Annihilated.

I’m gonna tag:

1. Jemma
2. Tilly
3. Bitsy
4. Raiko
5. Jackson
6. Bella and
7. Boomer!

My Haiku

Wonderful night air
We stop, I pee on Star’s head
She doesn’t notice.


heeheeheeehee

Okey, dokey!

Don't look now, but I think my Mom's gone over the edge. She's turned into some kind of sappy weirdo.

I'm thinking if I play this right, there could be a Greenie in it for me....

Shhhh....

Tim.

My Tail of Devotion for Tim

This is a special Tail of Devotion

See All Tails of Devotion

AnimaLimpix Training

Tim here. I’m working out for the AnimaLimpix, doing Puppy Pushups in the living room. Gotta be in top form for the Squirrel Squashing event, you know. It’s too bad it isn’t Squirrel Chasing - I could have nailed that one, but for the Squirrel Squashing, you have to actually Catch the Squirrel, from what I understand. That could be problematic. Not that I have troubles catching squirrels, mind you, it’s just that normally they have to be really slow, really old or make some stupid squirrelly mistake. Otherwise, they’re up the tree before I can get halfway there. Danged Tree Rats. Gotta go. One-Two, One-Two, One-Two.

Tim.

Busy, Busy, Busy!

Okay, you know what? I’ve had just about enough “hounding” by Star and Winnie (and my Auntie Pam) to write a Diary entry. I mean, I’m a busy dude - after all, there are squirrels to send packing, mice to mangle, birds to bother, and who do you think it is that keeps our sidewalks clear of strangers? That’s right - it’s me. I’m the one that runs this household, and it’s a lot of work!

I do have a few statements that need to be made, though:

1. I sleep in, that’s true, but not because I’m a “lazy scutter.” I have been up all night protecting the premises and rousting mouses. Just because I stretch luxuriously, let out a little groan and snuggle closer to Slugabug Dad when asked if I’m going on the morning walk does not mean I am lazy. Tired. That’s it. Tired. NOT lazy.

2. It is also true that I am the littlest one here. That does NOT, however, mean that I should be the resident chew-toy. Winnie used to grab me by the neck before Star came to live with us; and now Star drags me all over by the collar. I mean, what IS it with you guys?? If it wasn’t for Mom, chicken jerkey and the seriousness with which I view my household duties, I swear I would run away and go live somewhere else. Enough with the “oh, he’s cute, let’s chew on him” already. Go lay down by your dish, both of you!

3. Skateboards are abominations and every last one of them should be destroyed. The only thing they are good for is breaking limbs and risking lives, and it is my opinion and fervent wish that they all be banned from our streets, sidewalks and driveways. I hereby declare that I will continue to do my very best to discourage their use by snarling viciously while pulling as hard as I can at the end of my leash whenever I see one, no matter if it worries Mom or not.

4. Finally, I think Mom feeding the birds is short-sighted and, quite frankly, rather irritating. The birds just scatter the stuff around, and then the mice get it. The next thing you know, the mice want to come in and make themselves comfortable in the nice warm house. Next comes the little rowdy mouse-parties under the sofa, and the go-go dancing and playing limbo with the fan blades under the fridge. THEN they’re stealing the food from our bowls, and where does it go from there? Mass hysteria! And it just makes more work for me! Am I the only one who sees the vicious cycle going on here? I say, let’s take all that silly bird feeder stuff down! Let them make their own way. Let them earn their own keep! I’m much more entertaining than any stupid birds, anyway.

That’s it. I have no more time - things are getting out of control in the back yard already. I can hear those squirrels scrabbling their way up the pine tree even now!

Nicetameetcha - bye!

Tim.