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Showing posts with label Buddy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Buddy. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 7, 2019

Members of the Family

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Over the decades, we have had one dog, some cats, a hamster, and two tarantulas. The tarantulas were named Sergio Bustamante and Martha Rose. The hamster was Max. The cats were Midnight and Scuba. The dog was Buddy. Time passes and so do pets.

Bloggers tend to share their passions, which is just about anything. My passion is that of a story teller, but I promised Sandra I show some photos.




This is a video of a Mexican Red Knee tarantula, like Sergio Bustamante. My
son is an entomologist and he had this and then a Mexican Red Rump, like Martha Rose.
Sergio grew to be huge, bigger than the one you see here. We
had him for 5 years, during that time he grew quite large and his
legs became creepy--long and black, like something out of
a Sci-Fi movie.
We donated him to a pet store where employees clustered around him.

 

This is Martha Rose. She was with us for about a year. Martha Rose
was one quick spider. We did not form a bond with her. What can I say? 
Eh, it is what it is.


Sorry this photo didn't work out.  Dang, technology.

This is my gr-daughters' dog, Lucy. She now weighs 65 lbs, strong pitbull and chihuahua mix, with dabs of black lab. She has the big eyes when begging. When we are at the table, Lucy noses through the crook of my husband's arm and gets within inches of the food, yet she does not take any. She just gives us those big eyes.
Lucy, lying in an old bed. She still loves it. She looks small here,
but she is strong, 65 lbs. 




(Buddy)
This is Buddy, a black/chocolate lab, we had in Ireland. When he came
bounding toward me, I always braced and turned to the side. On cold rainy nights, Buddy lay 
on my feet, basically the only way they would not be ice cold.
He seemed to go a-wandering, getting off his chain, but we thought he was being used for

stud at a farm nearby. 

When we
moved back to California, he had gone a-wandering again. 
No one had seen him
 running around the property.



This is Midnight and his companion (who was there one day, gone the next). Midnight was a big tomcat who headed out for a day or so, and then return.  One time he was gone for several days, and when he returned, it was clear he had been caught in a rat trap. His back skin was almost torn off. The vet said he was a strong cat to be able to survive such an injury. Dr. stitched the injury and we put him into a cage for 6 weeks. Each day I took him out of the cage, cleaned it as Midnight walked around as best he could. Once he was back in the cage, I cleansed the wound and fed him.

Then I sat by the cage and caressed the fur that came through the cage. I told him that soon he would run through the grass, catch mice, and enjoy a cat life. He purred.

When Midnight was freed, he remembered me. He brought me field mice and voles,
laying them at my door.

Lucy is licking off green icing off my nose. She was only 50 lbs. here.
Dang it, again. Damn technology. Photo doesn't show.
Our pets were not outsiders that we possessed: they were part of our family.

P.S. I have no photos of Max-the-hamster. Max was the inspiration for Squeaky's big send-off.


Sunday, November 20, 2011

Through the Glass

See*Photo*Write Every Monday!
An interesting, amusing, or startling photograph
has the power to spark creativity
and arouse the writer within.
Source

Looking through the kitchen sliding glass door, Samuel and the squirrel eyed each other.  Both waited for the other to blink.

Bored, the squirrel scampered off, snatching a fallen pecan for his cache of winter supplies.

Samuel sighed.  This had turned out to be a disappointing day.  The Daddy was home, and had said, “Hey, Buddy.  Daddy’s gonna do some work on the computer.  You stay put, okay?”

Stay put?  The Daddy had fixed him up with a harness that was secured around his chest, tethered to the kitchen table.

Stay put?  He could wander about six feet, and then The Daddy would say, “Buddy?”

While The Daddy killed Zombies on the computer in the dining room, Samuel gazed jealously at the squirrel that scurried around the backyard. If only, if only.

Samuel pressed his face against the glass door, watching as Ginger-the-fat-tabby soundlessly squeezed through the pet door.  It was too small for Samuel.

This is a soulless existence.  Samuel hung his head.  I cannot endure such inhumanity.  Inspired, Samuel focused his thoughts on the pet door and the squirrel. 

The Daddy’s briefcase lay open on the chair.  Phone, keys, papers—his for the taking.  ‘Buddy this, big guy!’  Samuel decided.
Samuel retrieved the cell phone and shoved it cautiously through the pet door.  The squirrel examined it.   He snatched it up, scampered up the tree, and dropped it into the chasm of winter food.

Success!  Samuel took the keys, clutching them in his moist chubby hand.  No sound.  Squirrel took them, ka-ching.

Papers?  No problem.  Flash Drive?  Easy-peasy.  Again and again, until all gifts were accepted. 

Samuel looked at the nearly empty case. My job here is done.  He lay down on the floor, giving the squirrel a sleepy smile.  Hard work is always rewarded.

This is an awesome site hosted by some dedicated writers! 

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

My secret love


There are very few TV programs I enjoy.  My husband is an-almost-indiscriminant watcher of TV.  He loves having a DVR, and records anything that might be about poker, the Universe, Black Holes, science fiction,  golf,  physics/math/chemistry, earthquakes, volcanoes, tsunamis…well, you can see his mind bent.
 For me, TV viewing needs to have certain parameters:
  • No car chases
  • No  formulaic plot line
  • No gratuitous near-nudity
  • No thinly veiled political correctness
So far I have effectively eliminated almost every show on TV.  That leaves very few choices.
Fortunately there are the food related programs namely "Cake Boss".
Hoboken, New Jersey, here I come!  For there, I will find Carlos’ Bakery and meet the man of my dreams:  Buddy. 
Buddy, how I thrill at the thought of your Italian pastries!  Oh, I long to bite into the flaky, creamy custard filled ‘lobster tail’ that is made with obscene amounts of butter and cream.  I want to stand in front of the glass case that is filled with delightful creations, and hear your sister Mary yell out, “Well, are you gonna buy somethin’, or you wanta just drool?”
Oh, Buddy, I want to sit across the table from you and order the most incredible, impossible cake and see what you create.  You made the Zombie cake today, and my heart nearly stopped.  Your tribute to the circus world was pure artistry.