Spring!

Spring happened! It seems like overnight the mountains were brownish with snow caps – in between the evergreens – and the few deciduous trees and shrubs in the yard – in between the evergreens - were without leaves. We had a few really vicious thunderstorms (my kind of weather) and on the first almost drizzle-free morning, daffodils and other bulbs popped up through the ground. Flowers are starting to bloom everywhere; squirrels are plentiful and Woody Woodpecker and his family are back banging on the tops of the Douglas firs. My feeders are full of seed and suet and the dogs and I are anticipating rollies on the back lawn.

The giant squid is anticipating catching me. He doesn’t care if the dogs roll down the hill. Honestly folks, he was toilet trained far too early in life.

SWAT!

We have a new dog; a Belgium Malinois. That’s like a German Shepherd but from another country. Malinois are really smart pooches, a little smaller than a typical Shepherd and very easily trained. This one was not taken care of as well as it should have been, needs a lot of positive reinforcement and praise. He’s so lovable I don’t know how anyone could have mistreated him. So far, Henry Canuk, the homeless feline I found on the beach in Cape Breton, has taken him under his wing so to speak. I don’t know any Belgium words but the animal seems to understand Canadian French (which Henry speaks fluently but then he’s an articulate cat.) The giant squid understands some French – he’s fluent in other languages – said Henry knows too many naughty words. I wondered how Cowboy knew those words were naughty if he’s not fluent in French. Hmmm… Oh wait! I know why. He’s a sailor.

SWAT!

We were out of the country for a few weeks; went to the Baltics. Cowboy has friends there. The food was outrageously wonderful; I got a few new recipes. It’s amazing how much Western influence has changed this area since the Iron Curtain came down - a lot of entrepreneurs, a lot of kiosks, a lot of lovely wares. I met a few gypsy dancers and felt right at home; however, not one of them would admit to dancing naked under a full moon. That was a disappointment.

Vi and Glory are doing okay; without Max, there’s a huge void in their daily lives – mine too. Some locals have hit on them; they’re both beautiful women but savvy about life so I’m not worried. Vi is a kick boxer and very skilled in one of the martial arts; Max taught Glory how to box and Cowboy taught both of them where all the pressure points are on a man’s body. I think the men in Gulfport are just enamored of Vi/Glory’s good looks and the fact that Glory is a 5-star chef. Anything for a good home cooked meal.

We’re up in Alberta, Canada at the moment. There’s a wild mustang roundup. These horses are absolutely magnificent. Of course I want one. Of course the giant squid said no. I’m positive I could train one as easily as I train dogs but the Neanderthal I live with still says no. I’m checking into the neighborhood covenants to see if a horse is okay and whether or not I can get hay/alfalfa/oats delivered on a regular basis. As for treats, we grow apples here in Washington State. Sugar cubes are in the grocery stores and just think! Horses like carrots and I don’t! This could work out wonderfully! Naturally, I’d share my Twinkies (but not my chocolates.)

I’m sure the local vet won’t have a problem with a horse and there’s some guy – I think he’s called a furrier (which is nicer than some words he could be called) could take care of horse shoes or whatever it is they wear on their hooves. I really need to research all this on the Internet. I’m sure Bull would help me out; he’s from Arkansas. I’m positive they have horses in that state. I know it’s filled with a lot of horse manure…

A really awful thing happened shortly after we arrived in Alberta. Personally, I thought it was hilarious; Cowboy had a different view. We were in a paddock area oohing and aahing over a pretty mare. Cowboy stroked the horse’s neck; something startled the big beast and it slammed its shoulder into the side of the paddock – catching Cowboy’s right hand and bruising it. Tsk. What an absolute shame that was, not! Being a supportive spouse, I offered to buy him an ice cream cone – 3 scoops – he said something naughty in Italian.

So-o-o-o I’m trying to decide on a mustang. If you think of a really great name, let me know. Also, please send healing thoughts to the giant squid. He’s going to be miserable until that hand heals.

~Sar~