Spring’s here again and so are the fleas. Rotten ugly little pests! I don’t know why the Great Dog created these nasty little insects. They crawl all over you, biting you as they go, making your life miserable. You get itchy all over, and scratching is only a temporary relief. Very temporary. Mom says we’re in for a bad flea and tick season since our winter was so mild. And I believe her. Rio and I were already scratching like crazy until Mom got us something from the vet: a round pill about the size of a nickel and three times as thick that tasted somewhat like chicken. I gulped mine down as did Rio, but Sammy just sat there looking at the pill in Mom’s hand. It was a little bit smaller than mine, I guess ’cause he’s a smaller dog, ’bout half my size.

“Come on, Sammy, eat it!” I urged him “Mom says it’ll get rid of the fleas.”

Sammy just sat there, not quit sure whether to trust Mom or not. “Does it taste bad?,” he asked. “I don’t like things that taste bad.”

“It tastes like chicken. Eat it!” I barked.

Sammy shrugged and ate the pill. “Say, it does taste like chicken!” he exclaimed.

“Told you so,” I replied.

Well, 24 hours later the three of us were quietly laying around, no scratching, no biting, no whimpering, no crying. Peace at last!


There’s a saying in Spanish: “Febrero loco, Marzo otro poco.” Which means: “February is crazy, March a tad more.” Of course, this usually refers to the weather, but at home it’s been a crazy month healthwise. First, my shoulder gave me trouble and I limped around for a good two weeks, then Big Mom got terribly sick. Three weeks ago, the EMTs came in their ambulance to take her to the hospital. She was so pale, and throwing up. I tried to tell everyone that I had taken good care of her and had made sure she hadn’t eaten any grass that would have made her throw up. But no one was paying any attention to me. I could sense that Mom was really upset as she threw some clothes into a suitcase, tossed it in the back of her car, and took off. I tried my best to go with her so she’d have company. But she said that dogs weren’t allow in human hospitals and gave me a big biscuit instead.

Rio, Sammy, and I hung around all day waiting, waiting, waiting… Every once in a while I’d look out the window in Big Mom’s room (I can see the front gate from there) hoping to see Mom’s white car turning into the driveway. But nothing. It got dark and still no Mom. Sammy began to wimper. “I’m afraid,” he said. “I’m afraid she’s not coming back and I’ll be left alone again.” I consoled him as best I could. “No one is going to leave you, little buddy. Mom’ll be home. She wouldn’t leave us.”

It was way past our dinnertiime before Mom finally came home. We all ran to greet her as she came through the door, Sammy running past her into the garage looking for Big Mom. “Come inside, Sammy,” Mom said to him. “She didn’t come home with me.” Sammy sat for a moment looking at the car, then, sadly, he came into the house.

We all ate our dinners, watched a little TV, then went to bed. Big Mom didn’t come home for two more weeks.


Been rather under the weather lately. My left shoulder has been bothering me (I got kicked by a cow about a year ago, and it has come back to haunt me, especially when the weather turns humid), so I am limping around on three legs. Mom has been giving me some pain medication which helps, but I mostly just feel like lying around the house, particularly on her bed, although it’s not always easy to get up and down from it. I have a big, fluffy pillow bed I can lie on also, which I share at times with Big Mom’s black and white cat, Lukey Longshanks. For those who have just joined my blog, Big Mom is my Mom’s mom. Not that she is big, she is actually smaller than my mom, but she is much older, about 18 in dog years, which is 88 in human years. She a good egg, so easy to get sympathy from. All I have to do is put my head on her lap and look up at her pitifully, like my whole world were coming to an end, and she is always ready with kind words and lots of petting. And if I really turn it on, I may get a biscuit out of her, although Mom has told her “No snacks between meals” because she says I’m putting on too much weight. Hey, not my fault if I can’t exercise because my shoulder hurts! Besides, I think I deserve a biscuit every once in a while. Doesn’t every dog?


It’s been a rather long time since I was able to sit down and dictate my thoughts to my little buddy Chewbakka. You’ll remember that my paws are way too big to use the keyboard and Chewbakka’s claws serve him just fine for typing. Tried typing once but it all came out like this: nbjhguye43wrfdl;pkoi,mlopk;.,o09ik;p. That was my effort to type “Hello”. I knew right then and there that the keyboard and I weren’t going to get along. Typing requires a far more delicate touch and Chewbakka has it. Of course, it didn’t come without some coaxing. And no, I did NOT do the “Cats rule, dogs drool” business! I just keep a watchful eye out when Chewbakka goes outside to take his walk around the yard; that is when it’s not raining, it’s not too cold, it’s not too hot, it’s not too early, it’s not too late, etc. etc. etc. Fussy little feline, but he’s OK; especially when he’s helping me with my blog.

So, why the new blog? Well, as you can see, there’s some advertising now. Mom told me that I could make some money advertising on my blog. Ca-ching! I was really happy thinking about all the frisbies, and tennis balls, and plushy toys I would buy, not to mention rawhide bones and those wonderful little treats that make my mouth water just thinking about them. Happy, that is, until Mom told me we weren’t keeping all the money, but giving part of it away. What? Giving it away? Why? “Because it’s the right thing to do,” she told me. I hate it when she says that because she is usually right. So, we’re giving some of the money to the Border Collie Rescue of Texas. Now there’s a charity I can get behind, like herding. You kow, get-behind = herding. Just a little Border Collie humor.


Horses in back yard

It finally rained! Beautiful, wonderful, wet rain. Not that I like to be out in the rain, but after it rains everything smells so fresh and clean, it makes me want to run around, and around, and around. Of course, it’s still very hot. 100 degrees again today, and it feels like 105.

Mom’s putting up a temporary cross fence which will allow her to keep the horses and cows off a portion of the pasture to give the grass a chance to grow. That way she won’t have to turn Ziggy and Squeaky out in the back yard in order to eat some nice green grass.

I don’t mind sharing my yard with my horse buddies, but they always leave something behind which I just can’t resist rolling in, much to my mom’s dismay. This, of course, ends up in my being bathed, something I definitely do not relish!