So Fanny and Java “met” this summer. I’ve known Java’s people for a while but Java’s only about 10 mos. old. And big. She’s a Cattasomethingorother. Brown with little white spots and soft fur. Whatever.  Doesn’t matter.

She and Fanny run around at the (non-dog) park, play in our back yards, etc. (Note the locations have always been outside.)

So I took Fanny for a walk around the corner in a desperate attempt to burn off some energy off her crazy selfxto wish Janet & Greg a Merry Xmas, and we found out the hard way that Java is a bit – uh – territorial inside her home.

She attacked Fanny and didn’t just make her whimper or yell out, but really cry for a few seconds. She was shaking and everything…

Anyway, we got the eff outta there x left pretty soon after that and took a walk and all was well in FannyLand.

The next day I opened the door to find a bag with a treat for Fanny and the following note:

That note makes me smile every time I think of it, and judging by the wrinkles in it, you can probably tell I have been showing it to everyone.


I had to call the ‘animal disposal unit’ today.

Until last night, Fanny hadn’t proven to be the great hunter that Allie (the cat) had been.

Like I said though, that was until last night.

Fanny has a couple of “habits” that bug me:  she also barks at nothing (lack of intelligence being another thing that bugs me too I guess) and she licks a lot.

Example: My dad, was over here the other day and said he let her lick the back of his hand and timed it at 2 minutes. (Can’t imagine why I’m such a geek either)

Anyway, I digress.

She was barking last night and I went to get her. Well, she was outside barking at an acorn or something but there was a BIG dead rabbit on the doorway leading from the porch outside.


I got her inside but realized that she’d have to go out another coupla times before the night was over.

Usually I just leave the back door open or closed just enough so her nose can open it, but obviously I didn’t want a rabbit carcass presented on my  living room floor, so I had to firmly close the door each time I let her out and check every once in a while.

Not a problem when you’ve got a chew toy waiting for you though. Blood…mmmm

Anyway, called the ‘animal disposal unit’ when I woke up this morning today. Let’s just say there was a lot less to retrieve.

Once again it was dad and the girls who comprised “the unit.” They had me bring Fanny inside, and as I shut the door I heard dad saying, “…and that’s the liver.”

I heard one of the girls going “ewwww” (but she was looking, so she’s already a better person than I). I made the mistake of opening the back door It was almost bagged and Fanny got out again.

The dad said something like “where else are they going to learn about real life?” and I told him are you effing kidding me I had plenty of “real life” without viewing innards of a dead rabbit, thank you very much.

“Well,” he says, “they won’t get to take apart and prepare a chicken because we’re vegetarian” to which I responded, “and I won’t either because I just think they’re gross and only buy the breasts.”

Don’t try to one up me buddy, just take the dead animal, ok? Not that I’m not appreciative – far from it – but if I could stand the disgustingness wanted to learn more about real life revel in my omnivorousness I would’ve taken care of the damn thing myself.

So they cheerfully bagged it and went on their merry way, saying “Remember us at the holidays.”

Again I bit my tongue, instead of saying “the last time ‘remembered you at the holidays’ nobody ever acknowledged it, not to mention actually saying thank you.”

Between the dead rabbit and my tongue-biting there is a lot of blood around here today.

no gloves – that’s a real man

Fanny and I went to watch a friend’s child play soccer at the park down the street. Well, technically I went to watch and Fanny went ’cause she’ll go anywhere…

So the game was between the unofficial-school-of-my-suburb (which is NOT a public school, but which “everyone” sends their kids to) and another school (where friend’s kid plays).

Being that there were kids from my ‘hood there, I saw a gaggle of girls I know. They weren’t playing soccer and when they saw Fanny they ran over (of course) ’cause she’s so darn cute.

They passed her around like she was a doll or a baby or something and then (god I am so stupid sometimes) asked if they could walk her around the park.

I compromised with the girls to limit the walk to around the exterior of field, talked to their moms, locked the leash at about 5 feet, and off they went.

About 1/2 way around, I could see things were getting a little out of control. Fanny wanted to run, the girls wanted to “show” her things, pick her up, meander around like kids do, and before I knew it…

the leash had been dropped, and the Fanster was hauling as# across the soccer field. Through the game. Right through the game…

so “through the game” that they had to pause it while we did a recovery mission.

The parents, kids and I (who all knew her name by now) were all calling her, but (thanks to early training and heavy food rewards) she came towards ME when I called and once she finally heard me over the voices of everyone yelling at her to stop (duh-that SO doesn’t work).

She was almost to me when one of the dads (natch) stopped her in her tracks. I was actually a little ticked off because this was a huge test of her obedience, and she can run FAST and AWAY if she wants to…and she was thwarted mid-stream.

But I did the “walk of shame” to go get her and the game continued.

I let her dig a hole in the ball field just to get some of that energy out and give the city workers something to do with my tax money.

Note that I would kill her if she did that in MY yard. Well, in my garden anyway…

She is such an energetic little puppy.

Silly silly Fanny – she’s still trying to get Li’l Effer (more here) to play with her, even going into the “hey let’s play” position (aka ‘downward-facing dog’  pose) and play-barking at him.

To his credit (or is he just in shock?) he’s not running or hissing or swatting her, though. He’s just looking at her and staring.

If he had a brain he’d be thinking, “Are you nuts? Do you know who I am, what I represent? I have scared large dogs and children before you.”

But he’s just staring at her while she keeps trying. Me? I am just sitting here in disbelief that she still has energy after 3 walks, running and playing separately and together with the neighbor girl, me, at least 4 toys, and another dog in the back yard today.

I also can’t believe that after 10 days she’s still trying to get him or Allie to play with her. She just doesn’t get the whole hissing thing and that it means ‘No, I am menacing – go away.’

Poor naive little Fanny has so much to learn on the way to growing up.

Dear Diary,

The second reason I’m just not feeling it <first post here>, seems less important by comparison, but is another a day I never thought I’d see: The first plants I bought for my garden have all but died.

15 years ago I bought 4 Rudbeckia goldsturm (Black-eyed Susans) from a good nursery and at the time they seemed expensive.

But I most definitely got my money’s worth out of them. They produced and produced and produced.

For several years, I’d put extras in grocery bags in front of my house with a “free” sign. They were always taken.

Then, as friends got interested in gardening I gave them the extras. Which is the cool thing about gardening — every time you see what someone gave you, you are sending them a little blessing, a little namasté -1 to them. (And yes, I knew that word before my current Buddhist wannabe jag. I learned 10+ years ago when I started yoga.)

It seemed like they were endless! (Click on image to get the full effect and to see that Bubba has always been fat.)

And then a couple of years ago they started petering out:

And then last year they really petered out…

And now…one lonely little budlet on the way right side if you click and look closely:

I know, I know. You can save all the platitudes — I’ve thought of them already:

  • ‘You had them so many years!’
  • ‘Everything has a season’
  • ‘Nothing lasts forever’
  • ”Think how much joy you’ve given others’
  • ‘Change is good’
  • ‘But look at what you do have.’
  • blah blah blah…

I’m sorry, but I’m not going to be consoled about this. Daffodils aside, Rudebeckia are my favorite flowers. They make me smile every time I see them. Hell, my living and dining rooms are the same color! (Alarmingly, I just realized that and made the connection…)

Having just a few rusty-leaved little plants that don’t even bloom is just sad. I’ve called in a favor and gotten some back from my friend Ann, but there’s something else going on with the soil or something. Nada. Zippo. Zero. I hope to find some bare-root plants this fall. Farewell my friendly plants! You’ve made so many people smile over the years.



Okay, thanks for listening. I feel better now. I’ll try to get back to my normal (?) way of writing instead of “Dear Diary-ing” it so much.






1: Translated many ways, but I like “I honor the light in you.”

I’ve been so busy either gardening or looking at it (i.e.-sitting my butt on the back porch) that I keep forgetting to take pix.

I love this time of year.

Everything changes every day.

Things already look different than these (i.e.-better!), and these were taken just a few days ago!

Next to do: put in the trellises (shown here after 1 coat)

<ed. 6/19: bolded info. on this topic due to reader confusion — have had a couple of verbal comments too — and/or writer vagueness; Here’s the upshot: I have removed innumerable m/voles from my basement, back porch and house. This summer I decided to do a “summer m/vole count,”  much like the Audubon Society (?) does its annual (christmas?) bird count. Get it?>

Since there have only been 2 so far and I can still keep track of them, I’ve decided to write a post every time I get a m/vole* off my back porch this summer.

Well I won’t really “get them,” the cats will, but I will be lobbing them over the fence into the neighbor’s yard “getting them” off my back porch (and/or avoiding them), so I feel entitled to the need to document each disposal.

For some background : This is getting a little ridiculous.

You could also just click on the Dead Animal of the Day link on the right, and 98% of the time it’ll be about dead m/voles.

I understand this could get kinda boring for you, dear reader, but this blog is about me, after all, and it could be worse: I could use this blog to track my periods or every time I said the eff word or every weed I pull out of the weedpatch garden (which I don’t have enough time to actually pull, not to mention to document).

So think of this as a database with words. Heck, it’s better than that: It’s an interactive database you can leave comments on!

To to make it official: This weekend I lobbed removed #2.

In the unlikely event you need a reminder this is about the first one of the summer: Summer’s here even though it was 34 degrees the other day

*or any part thereof

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