 The puppy has many toys. A fuzzy hedgehog. A rawhide chew toy. A rubber geodesic ball. A rope toy. A rubber tire rope toy. The paper towel I used to dry my hands after washing them.
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 This is the sick day spider that I was too sick to post yesterday. On a happier note. For Christmas I got a new floor and a new heater thanks to Dad. Now the floor is a very nice earth tone. Think what a conifer trunk looks like when it falls on the forest floor and degrades into the soil for twenty or thirty years. But the really amusing bit was the reaction to the new heater. It is an oil bath heater. Oil bath heaters were built off the designs of the old school radiators and usually one set size. But this one is about a third of the usual size. Six out of six people had the same reaction. "Awe! How sweet! Look at the little heater." Leans down towards the heater. "'You can do it little guy!"   Here is a nice picture to tide my reader over when I am sick as a dog and miserable on many levels...
Or rather I sincerely hope my dogs are never this sick. This is no fun and I would never wish it on my precious puppies.  Merry Christmas Everyone. Here is a classic British song and a Christmas tree belonging to someone very much more orderly than I.  The Night Before Christmas on the Farm
Twas the night before Christmas and all through the fog, Not a creature was stirring cept a shaggy old dog. He got up and stretched from his seat on the hill, And wander on down to see all was well. Dad goat was snuggled in the house built for dog, The hens all slept well, one long feathered log. The duck was still lonely he needed a friend, The rooster perched high and softly scolded at him. Mom goat was snuggled with Mom dog and pups, Old shaggy dog nuzzles them… and then his ears perk up. The people sleep sound in the house with the door, He can smell the wood smoke, he can sure hear them snore. It’s his job to figure, to see, and to think, Is this new noise a threat or an ignorable thing? First he hears bells, no thief makes such noise, This must be new friends, his hearts bounds with joy. New friends mean scratches, new friends can be pounced, New friends must above all other things…be ANNOUNCED. The dog takes his stand, and bears his great throat, Imagine his joy when he smells NINE new goats! New goats to love, to hug to his heart! New working goats to, for they are pulling a cart. Old shaggy dog ROARS out his wondering joy, Mom dog starts from her sleep, the hens are annoyed. The Man in the People house barks back at him too. When the goats with the new friend alight on the roof. Such clever new goats the old dog is sure, Need a clever new greeting as he shakes out his fur. Up to rain barrel he bounds in a leap, He slips on the ice but stays on his feet. He catches the gutter with powerful claws, He hauls himself up on the roof but must pause. The new friend is there, a lankly old Man, Dressed all head to foot in practical tan. He carried a sack hung over his back. Filled to bursting with boxes and showing no slack. The dog’s heart lightens as he recognizes the scene, The UPS man has a brother it seems! His beard was so long, just right to take kisses, His eyes twinkled brightly with directions and wishes. The shaggy old dog nodded his head in consent, Such a friendly new friend MUST have good intent. “Be a good dog,” the man said with a laugh, He reached down and gave the old dog a scratch. “My reindeer and skittish, they’re tired, and sore, We’ve flown the world over, and we’ve got to fly more. They could use some soft touches, some protection from harm. They need my dear boy, that Great Pyrenees charm.” His job understood the old dog stepped out, He walked up at first to a glowing red snout. Behind him, unnoticed, the man slipped down a flu, For little else mattered, there was a job to do. He kissed the first goat who snorted and pawed, But his loving attention soon had them all awed. Hug after hug he wrapped round their necks. He marveled indeed at goats with such pecs! Despite his long legs he could hardly reach round, But like good dogs all over, he wouldn’t back down. Every one of the goats, with their funny bent horns, With their odd shaggy coats, and their harnesses worn, Was hugged and was cuddled, was kissed and respected, Marked with his scent, marked as protected! A wolf might be tempted, a cougar might cry, But the strength of the Great Pyrenees neither would try. When the strange man appeared to put his bag in his cart, They were all sniffing noses and sad to depart. The shaggy old dog whined, he begged him to stay, The old man just laughed, “Sorry boy there’s no way. I’ve so many more stops. So much to do. And back at the Pole, my own dog like you. He’s sitting there sad, atop the tallest ice dome. These are his deer you see and I must take them home.” He leapt into the cart and reached into his bag. He tossed out a gift and said without lag. “On Dasher, on Dancer, on Prancer, on Vixen, on Comet, on Cupid, on Donner, on Blitzen, lead them off Rudolph and up we all go.” The clever old goats, leapt up with a bound, And soon they were miles up off of the ground. The shaggy old dog dropped his head with a sigh, Back to his own goats then he heard from the sky. “Merry Christmas to all the good dogs out tonight, Protecting the flocks from danger and fright. The purebreds, the mutts, the deliberate cross, They’re out in the cold and don’t mind the frost. May they have a warm bed when it’s their turn to sleep. Merry Christmas to all watching over the sheep.”  In the spirit of the season here is my contribution to the ice covered fallen leaves with fuzzy lighting meme.
Enjoy.  When the sun sets, when it rises, there is a change in the air. The sounds shift. The light changes. The scents grow sharper. That is a good time to sit back and breathe, and let the night imbue you with inspiration. Unless it's raining. Then stay inside and read Shakespeare or something.
 Ah, the Pacific Northwest. Cold and wet. But not cold enough to snow.
 Does this bit of natural topiary look more like a dinosaur or a teapot?  From a strictly botanical perspective, no literary author would dare give something this ugly a delicious name like "Chocolate Lilly".
Nature is weird. |
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AuthorBetty Adams is an up and coming author with a bent for science and Sci-fi. Archives
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