Furball on the Loose

The construction project continues. I'm not sure if it's ever going to end. Our German Shepherd, Schultz is having some doubts, too. All he wants is a nap. An impossible thing in our abode. The saws and the hammers and the general chaos are too much.

So, he's been taking matters into his own paws. I believe I've mentioned that the doors are routinely left open as the workers come and go. We've had creatures wander in. Now we have a creature wandering out.  That creature is Schultz. Usually we leave him in the basement, so he's not underfoot. But when the workers have to go down to turn the power off, he manages to escape. Right out the front door.

The other day, Mr. Schultz walked out the door all the way to the bus stop at the corner of the street. Fortunately, Bubba was there, getting off the bus, and spotted him. He brought the wayward creature home.

Yesterday, he escaped again. Since the kids are out of school for the holiday, there was nobody to meet him at the bus stop.  We thought we were doomed. Nobody knew how long Schultz had been missing.

One of the workers decided to try whistling. "All dogs come to my whistle," he said.

This dude had the loudest whistle I'd ever heard. I think even the man in the moon heard it. We waited a few minutes. No Schultz. He whistled again. A few minutes later, Schultz came, trotting down the sidewalk like it was no big deal.

The worker grinned. "I told you he'd come!"

Yay for the whistle! 



Before I go, I have two announcements. Actually three.

1.  My book, That Mama is a Grouch is available as a free ebook from Smashwords from now until January 1st. Please visit this link to get your copy.

2.  My book, Ten Zany Birds is available as a free ebook from Smashwords from now until January 1st. Please visit this link to get your copy.

3. Don't Feed the Elephant, my upcoming picture book, will be published in 2018. We have some formatting issues we're still trying to work out. My apologies to anyone who might've wanted to get it as a Christmas gift. I'll let you know when it's here.

Hope you all have a very Happy New Year and a terrific 2018!   

Talking Gibberish

My son, Bubba, is experiencing a voice change. He's a teenager now, and he's starting to sound like a man. Scary! Anyway, sometimes his voice cracks. When that happens, it's difficult to understand what he's saying.  That, along with the low pitch, makes it all sound like gibberish. We tell him he speaks Gibberish all the time.

The other day, he was in the kitchen talking to our dog, Schultz. I couldn't understand a word he was saying. I listened very closely, and whatever language he was speaking, definitely wasn't English.

"Dude," I said. "Is that supposed to be English?"

He laughed and shook his head. "No, Mama. I'm speaking Gibberish. It's what I do best. And Schultz understands it."

I looked at the dog. He sat there in front of Bubba, looking at him intently with his head tilted. Bubba spoke more Gibberish and opened the door. Schultz trotted outside.

 "See," Bubba said. "I told him to go outside, and he did!"

Brilliant!



Before I go, I'd like to let you know that I'm a guest on the ePublishing Children's Book Blog. I'm talking about my upcoming book, Don't Feed the Elephant. If you'd like to visit and see a sneak peak of a couple of the illustrations, visit here.

You-know-who Knows You-know-what

If you've been visiting this pad for a while, you know that our German Shepherd, Schultz, is a rather intelligent animal. (For the most part.) We have recently discovered that he is smarter than we thought.

The hundred-pound beast loves playing "flashlight" every night. "Flashlight" is the game where we take him outside when it's dark, and he chases a beam of light around the yard. It's his favorite thing to do. If you even mention the word, "flashlight," he goes crazy.

Playing "flashlight" is definitely more fun for the dog than it is for us humans. Sometimes nobody wants to take him out. Especially when it's cold. So, if the question is asked, "Who wants to take Schultz out to do 'flashlight?'" and nobody wants to, doggy gets upset, because he's heard the word, "flashlight" and nobody is taking him out to do it.

We thought we had gotten around this by asking, "Who wants to do 'you-know-what?'" It worked for a while, but then Schultz figured out that "you-know-what" means "flashlight." So now he gets upset if he doesn't get "you-know-what" or "flashlight."

I guess we're going to have to start spelling the words.   

Open Zoo

As I mentioned in my previous post, we're having a lot of construction done in my house. Workers go in and out, hauling machines and materials. For several days, our front door was left open. Fortunately, the weather was good. Unfortunately,  it was an open invitation for all kinds of critters to wander in.

The first such creature was a lizard. He strolled in, like it was perfectly natural to be in my house. He wandered around the front hall and then scurried off when he spotted me. I'm not exactly sure where he went, or where he is, but I do know that where he scurried was not outside.

Before I tell you about the second visitor, let me paint a picture of what my dining room currently looks like. Completely covering the dining room table is an assortment of plates, cups, and utensils. Some paper, some plastic, some china. There is also an row of cereal boxes and snacking items that were once in our pantry.  On the floor, is a bunch of pet food, pots, pans, dishes that are sort of clean, but not quite, because I had to take them out of the dishwasher before they were done so the workers could demolish our kitchen, and an assortment of stuff that had been under our kitchen sink. It's a mess! I can't even believe that I've been living in this condition for a month now. And it's not even close to over.

Anyway, when I walked into the dining room, I discovered a bee buzzing around the half-washed dishes on the floor. And he brought a buddy. Two bees.

"What do you think this is? A party?" I asked.

Of course they didn't answer. I have no idea where they went. Hopefully out. Along with all the other bugs and critters that have invaded our abode. If not, our cat, Bootsy, is going to have a big extermination project when this ordeal is over. (Because our dog, Schultz, wouldn't lift a paw to chase them out.)     

Why You Should Listen to the Mama

Has your mom ever told you not to play ball in the house? If she has, I hope you've listened to her. She knows what she's talking about.

Here's what happened at my house, because somebody didn't listen to the Mama:

Our house is currently under renovation. You really wouldn't want to be here. The kitchen is gutted, and all but one of the bathrooms has been demolished. As a result, we have some wide-open spaces. Especially in the kitchen. My husband decided it would be fun to throw the tennis ball around and have our German Shepherd, Schultz, fetch it.

"Don't do that," I warned. "The tennis ball is going to end up down an open vent."

Did he listen?

No.

On the first throw it happened. The tennis ball bounced off the wall where the oven had been. Then it bounced off the wall where the sink had been. Then it rolled along the floor . . . right into the open vent. Down it went. Never to be seen again.

I shook my head. I didn't even have to say, "I told you so." He knew.

Moral of the story:  Always listen to Mama! 

(He pried apart the vent and attempted to retrieve it, but couldn't. So now we have a tennis ball stuck somewhere in our vent system. Hopefully it won't end up in the furnace!) 

Mister Salesman

Even though it has been over a week since Halloween, my son still has a lot of candy left. Ever the creative thinker, he has found a solution for what to do with all this candy.

"I'm going to sell it," he announced.

"You're going to sell it?" I asked. "To whom?"

"To my friends."

I couldn't understand why anyone would need more Halloween candy. "Don't you think people have had enough?"

He shook his head. "No. They already ate all of theirs. I'm sure they want more. They'll buy mine."

Okay, then. So, the boy is going to take some to school. Let's see how well he's able to market his snack-size Snickers bars.       

Scaredy Cat

Our cat, Bootsy, is a brave feline. We didn't think he'd be afraid of anything. Turns out, we were wrong.

My son, Bubba, decided he was going to parade around the house in his Halloween costume. Usually, Bootsy doesn't care. Nothing phases him. Not Darth Maul. Not the Grim Reaper. Not Freddy Kruger. But for some reason, Bootsy didn't like this costume. What did my boy wear? A plain white mask, a black fedora, and a button-down collared blue shirt. It freaked the poor cat out. He took one look at my boy, meowed the strangest sound I've ever heard, and ran for cover.

Who knows what went on in the poor cat's mind, but if Bubba had that affect on him, I'm worried about what's going to happen to the poor souls who have to lay eyes on him when he Trick-or-treats on Halloween!