Bailley Dog Blog

The Dish From the Dog

The Daily Dog: Where Did The Neighborhood Go? November 30, 2006

Woof to you,

This morning when I woke up there was nothing to see!

Not in the front yard or the back.

Looking out my front window …nothing.

I could hear the school buses rumbling along and cars driving by but I couldn’t see them.

All the birds were quiet like they disappeared.  No squirrels digging for nuts.

No cats stretching and meowing on the front porch or back patio.

It was so quiet I could hear a little bit of the ocean waves rolling onto shore but that wasn’t all that rolled in from the big water.

Fog!

Lots of it. The thickest ever;  like heavy winter blankets.   All over the place.  Not just at the bottom of our street like it usually is when coming to visit our block.  It was all over making houses and people and vehicles invisible.

And it kept coming, denser and thicker, covering everything and everyone. I could hear the footsteps of kids at the bus stop and I wondered how would the bus know where to stop to let the boys and girls get on for their ride to school?

Finally I figured that puzzle out. The bus drivers must be like me.

They have better noses than eyesight!

I could sniff that all was well even though nobody could see through the fog.

It felt kind of strange but nice; all misty and silent.

So I went back for forty more winks….or more.

Woofs from,

Bailley

 

The Daily Dog: Thanksgiving From The Dog November 29, 2006

Woof to you,

I watched as the fuss and to dos whirled around my family as the big day for celebrating Thanks was nearing. The aromas coming out of that most important room in the house were magical. Even when I slept I dreamed of those cooking smells. MMMMMMM.

I had one part of me in the dining room and one part in the kitchen so I could be ready for any eventuality of a morself dropping my way. I was on my best behavior too and squeezed my big self up against the wall when anyone needed to get by to the garage where there is a second refrigerator to hold food. They have to pass right by my food dishes so you never know what goodies get dropped into my plate.

A little bit of this; a little taste of that. It’s all good.

I am thankful for what comes my way. And I guess that’s what all the cooking and fussing is about anyway. Being grateful is a nice tummy warming feeling.

And the food is cooked with love and that is what I’m grateful for too. I know there is a lot of love in my family and I love my humans and friends and they love me too.

Hooray for a day to celebrate that.

And naps in between.

I hope your Thanksgiving day was a good one too!

Woofs from,

Bailley

 

The Daily Dog: A Day November 21, 2006

Woofs to you,

Brruh!  It was cold today and the heat went on in my house.  I cozied up to the baseboard heating by the window and had warmth and a good view of the happenings outside at the same time.

The water in my dish out in the back yard was just how I like it best–ice cold and very thirst quenching.  Don’t you just love that when you are really thirsty…something really cool to make your hot throat feel good.  Yummy!

Mr. Gray Squirrel was in the front yard sitting up chewing on a walnut.  He looked so funny.  Everytime he took a bite, his nose and whiskers wiggled and his big bushy tail fluffed back and forth like a flag in the breeze.

I think he was eating and burying parts of the snack for the winter.  He would look up and then bend his head down and dig in the grass like crazy with his little paws.  When the snows come, he’ll be able to find his treats.  He has a very good sniffer.

I sat outside in the afternoon sun with my best lion face on; catching some rays like a regal monarch of the jungle.  I like that time of day.  I get to see the kids come home from school on the bus and have a nice fuss and  woof with them and Mr. Grey and Miss Kitty come by to say hello too.

It was a nice sunset today.  My humom says it looked like Maui; all colors of bright orange and pink and purples.  I don’t know about that much because I can’t see colors the way humans do but I take her word for it.  It looked pretty to me.

It was a day today.

How was yours?

Woofs from,

Bailley

 

The Daily Dog: November 20, 2006

Woofs to you,

Monday morning. Not a sound around. Peaceful. Quiet. Silence.

Why? What’s different today, I ask myself as I raise my ruffled sleepy head from my pillow.

And then it dawns on me.

Woo Hoo!

The humans at the airport must have switched the flight path of the planes landing there!

They do that every so often and we get a break from the noise. It happens like a cat sneaking up on you when you’re not looking. You get used to the rrrrooaarr of the engines flying over head and then all of a sudden…nothing.

When they switch it back to over our heads, it will be the pouncing shock of the cat jumping oput of the bushes at you when you least expect it.

But until they do the changing air routes again, you know what I’ll be doing……..sleeping in.

Woofs from,

Bailley

 

The Daily Dog: Dining Al Fresco With The Dog November 18, 2006

Woofs to you,

It’s the weekend!

Bagel time everybody!

I’m going out in the backyard and chow down in the great outdoors. There’s nothing so good as a weekend bagel unless it’s a weekend bagel eaten out of doors. Dining al fresco. More yum from the crumb.

Don’t you just love eating outdoors…at the beach, in fields, in the forest, on a mountain, out in your backyard; in the grass, on the patio or porch or terrace? I do.

My humom says even plain peanut butter sandwiches taste better when you eat them out in the fresh air. I tried peanut butter once. Not bad.

I’m a picnic sort of a guy and willing to show up for any outdoor snacks.

What are your favorite foods to eat out in the sunshine?

Woofs from,

Bailley

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The Daily Dog: More Nightime Visits November 17, 2006

Woofs to you,

Last night Possum Toddler was on the front porch, nibbling the cat food. No Raccoon Family this time. Just the one plump, medium sized, silvery haired possum with his long, skinny tail and pointy nose.

Boy, he really does love cat kibble! Once his snout was in that dish, he just kept on eating until he was full.

Miss Kitty sat and watched him. She was a very kind hostess. She didn’t disturb him while he was eating his dinner and she was OK with sharing her food.

After all, she and Mr. Grey had already eaten their dinners and were about ready for sleepy time, when Little Mister Possum showed up.

He did look up at me in the window once he was finished and looked over at Miss Kitty as if to say thank you and then off into the bushes he went.

His face was all white around the eyes and whiskers and his dark eyes kind of blinked under the porch light. I think he likes the dark best. He might be like my humom, nearsighted… except she wears glasses and he doesn’t.
In the Fall, I notice so many critters come at night to visit.

In the Summer it’s an all day affair!

My humom is figuring out where to put little huts for the outdoor cats for safe haven in the Winter.

Last year Mr Raccoon took over the cat shelter on the upstairs porch and Mr. Grey went into the pool shed. He doesn’t like to come into the house. He is what they call a ‘free spirit.” He’s very independent and likes to go wherever he pleases, whenever he wants. He’s the boss of himself.

He is not too keen on humans. He won’t let anyone pet him or get too close. I think it’s because he had a bad experience with people being mean to him. So maybe it’s best that he is cautious and picks and chooses who he will allow close to him. My humom says that is ‘self caring.’

He doesn’t take much to dogs either but he and I sit near enough to each other and have become friends. I don’t chase him and he doesn’t hiss and spit at me.

He is like his Mother, Hissy Cat. She couldn’t meow so she hissed when she had something to say. He is like that too but sometimes he just opens his mouth and half a meow comes out.

We pretty much understand one another and are peaceful together. Friends don’t have to talk or be right up next to one another to be friends.

It’s nice to have a companion with whom to enjoy the afternoon sun.

When Hissy Cat was with us, she had many kittens and they would crawl all over me and some would sleep between my paws or on my head. They were fun. I could snuffle them with my nose and we’d chase each other in the grass and leaves.

When they grew up, they all went away, got adopted and some even moved to farms where I bet they never run out of good things to chase. Barns are nice and warm in Winter for animals. I’m glad to have met them all. We had fun together.

Hissy Cat crossed over The Rainbow Bridge several years ago and so there weren’t so many more kittens growing up at our house. Mr. Grey is the last of her babies; all grown up now and a single, wild cat out on his own.

Tom tells him that he is top cat here now. He is the old timer. The cat who knows the history of the cat population in this neighborhood. He is what my humom calls, The Keeper of The Flame. He holds the knowledge of the cats who came before him. He is the wise one because of his years and his experiences.

Cats have come and cats have gone but Mr. Grey always comes home for a visit like human kids who grow up, go away to college and go off into their own lives with their own families. But come Thanksgiving or other holidays, they always come home for a good meal.

And there’s always a good meal to be had at our house for everyone!

Woofs from,

Bailley

 

The Daily Dog: Family Dinner Out November 15, 2006

Woofs to you,

Wow! Last night we had some visitors on our front porch.

Long after Mr. Grey and Miss Kitty had eaten their dinner and curled up for a window visit with me before going off to their own beds for a good night’s sleep; when all was quiet and dark, except for the porch light, I heard small noises. There was scuffling and a bit of rattling and moving around of the kibble bowls.

When I got up to look to see what the commotion was, there in front of my sleepy eyes were three raccoons pushing the cat’s dishes around; picking up every last bit of food they could find leftover from the cat’s dinners.

My peepers popped open fast! It was like looking right straight at the Three Bears story, only it was The Racoon Family… Papa, Mama and Baby Raccoon!

Papa Raccoon was humoungous! He was as big and round as the wheel of a car! He was so prosperously padded, he waddled, galump-galump, with his very, furry self moving like a giant,  jiggly bowl of jello.

Mama Raccoon was quite large and abundant herself and her hair was rich, silvery fluffy.  She was almost as large as Papa.  I’d say about the size of three well fed cats put together.

She swooshed-swooshed around while Baby kept close to her.

Baby Raccoon was no slouch in the weight department himself; more like a puffy pillow on legs.

Together they looked like a massive, moving carpet in three parts.

They stayed close together and cleaned up all the crumbs the cats had left behind.  Nibbly nibbly, yum yum yum.  They liked the menu at our buffet.

While I was watching them and trying to get a closer look, my nose hit the glass of the window.  Startled, they looked up and saw me. We all just stood, peering at one another through the picture pane; not a one of us blinking.

Their grey and white furry faces had black, whiskery masks around their keen eyes above small, black twitchy noses.  No wonder people say they look like bandits.

They had little fingery paws, like delicate, tiny hands, which they used to pick up the teensiest weensiest specks of leftovers.

They sat up, looking straight at me and wiggled their noses.  I wiggled mine right back.  They sniffed the air and so did I.

Baby kept right on nibbling.

Papa and Mama returned to their meal too.

Then, when there was not even a whisper of food left anywhere, they cleaned their faces; using their little hands like napkins, glanced a thank you back to me and waddled off into the night.

Miss Kitty came around the corner of the house the minute they were gone.  She wasn’t taking any chances meeting up with that family of fur giants!  No, there would be no fights over food or territory this evening.  She ran away to stay safe until any possibility of a scuffle disappeared.

Only after the surprised diners were done, did she come back to the porch.  She checked out the smells left by The Raccoon Family, looked around the corners to make sure the coast was clear and settled, curled up snugly, into her place by my window.

Now, I tell you, I’ve seen raccoons in my day and these were the biggest ever!

It was like someone puffed them up with air like balloons for a birthday party.  I couldn’t believe my doggy eyes!  The were enormendous!

And very handsome too; all silvery, thick, long hairs.  They were dressed up in their finest for a family dinner out on the town and our house was the restaurant choice of the evening.

They made all the other raccoons who have come to visit over the years look like regular-sized kitty cats.

The only thing missing from their meal was the finger bowls for washing their little hands.

That’s what all the other raccoon families used the cat’s water dishes for and my humom had just taken them in for a cleaning.

The excitement of these surprise late-night dinner guests will never be forgotten.

For one Autumn evening, we were a three star dining establishment.

And Tom is not alone in the taste bud department as food critic. The Raccoon Family obviously agrees….. Leftovers really are the best!

Woofs from,

Bailley

 

The Daily Dog: Exploring The Surfaces November 13, 2006

Woofs to you,

Since we have been having misty, foggy, rainy days, I’ve been putting a lot of hard work into thinking about sleeping.

Should I be on a nap schedule or should sleepy time be like demand feeding for a baby…only when called for?

I voted for the latter and, of course, included a nice balance of nibbling, slurping cool water and moving about the house to vary the sleeping experience.

One nap on the nice, thick, piled carpet in the living room by the window… so if the cats come to visit I can pop up and say hello to them when they meow, looking in the window.

The next on the nice, cool, smooth hall floor; sometimes with my head on the carpet of the stairs for a pillow and a different view of things.

Another curled up like the cats; snuggly warm on my own fluffy, jumbo round bed which smells so nice of cedar. That smell gives me good dreams of outdoor adventures!

When Tom is watching Sunday football from the bedroom, I like to stretch out across the doorway in the hall near the entrance to that room. The space is just my size and I like how the wall feels on my back. It’s good spine support and feels safe.

Now, by this time, you know me. If it starts to thunder or lightning, I’m in that bedroom with my head under the bed, lickety split! I get frightened by those two things and windy rattling sounds in storms so I like to be as close as I can with my pack.

If it’s in the nightime, I slink in on the bedroom carpet, right next to Tom’s head. Once he got up without knowing I was there and he tripped right over me.

We both jumped in the dark! That was startling.

I like to catch a few winks lying on the plush carpet in the dining room with most of my body in that room and my head in the kitchen.

I don’t want to miss anything in that room! I can wake up in a New York Minute if a crumb falls or a bread wrapper crinkles. I know they call that a ‘cat nap’ but it’s good enough for this dog when there’s even the slimmest possibility of a treat from that most important room in the house.

If I go out in the rain and get really, soaking, sopping wet, when I come back indoors, I go straight into the laundry room for a nice rubby dubby toweling off. My fur is so thick that it takes a little while for it to dry thoroughly. So, after the rubby dubby dubbing, I take a small siesta on the indoor-outdoor carpet in that room.

I keep my head pointed out to the dining room and I can see the kitchen too. That’s good because, I’m only steps away from a whistle for snacks, should there be any.

Also, it’s nice and warm in the laundry room because the heater for the house is in there and so is the water heater. I fluff dry pretty quickly and drowse off to a small patch of dreamland there. Usually my humans come to check on me to see if I’m dry enough to not sop up the house with dripping rain on me and sometimes, I just know when I’m dry and trot out to show them myself.

There are occasions where I’m just having fun with my pack. I lay right in the roadway in between rooms and they have to step over me. I like to sleep soundly in the middle of the action.

This is when that saying comes in handy, “Let sleeping dogs lie!”

Ha ha!

I like snoozing on the green grass the most.

The back patio and front porch are nice places for sun and shade too. I can sleep with my body on the patio and my head on the border railroad ties by the hedges.

Under the grape arbor on the brick in summer is perfect for an afternoon lazy time. The birds serenade me to sleep.
I have a special place under the big tree in the meditation garden. I go underneath the big shady branches and dig myself a bowl in the earth. I enjoy how the branches scratch my back for me.

Like the buffalo on the plains, it’s my own Bailley Buffalo Wallow and it’s cool, dark earth where I can roll on my back and then lay in the roundness out of the hot sun. I’ve hidden some nice bones in there too.
In the car, I have my own space; all cushioned with pillows; right behind the front driver and passenger seats and more importantly right near the treats when we go on long road trips.

I can stand up and walk from window to window to stick my nose out to sight see —well it’s really sight smell for me–seeing with my nose.

The movement of the car traveling on down the road lulls me to dreamland along the way.

I feel so lucky.

Ah…there are so many nice surfaces on which to dream and a good variety of places to grab some zzz’s.

Let’s face it I can sleep anywhere!

How about you?

Woofs from,

Bailley

 

The Daily Dog: Choosing A Leader November 10, 2006

Woof to you,

This week there was a lot of talk about what humans call elections. I listened closely while everyone talked about who they would vote for as leaders.

There was a lot of talk on the television set too about who to vote for.

As I understand it, all that talking, talking, talking was to get people to vote for certain other people to be the leaders.

There seemed to be heated opinions and many long discussions of things like qualities and who was right or wrong. There was talk of war and who was for it or against it; who was truthful and who was not; who had done a good job and who had betrayed their trust.

I sensed big emotions all around. I even heard someone call politicians dogs.
I listened but didn’t get what all the fuss was about. I thought back to my ancestors and how we in the dogworld chose leaders.

It boiled down to strength; inner and outer; who got the jobs done. That’s the top dog.

In the wild, you have to be strong to lead. You have to know your way and instill a sense of faith in the rest of the pack by really doing the leading.

In other words, you have to know where you’re going and how to get there safely so everyone can have food to eat and shelter from bad weather.

In today’s world where dogs live in houses with humans, we don’t have to worry much about the food or safe shelter anymore. The people who love us take good care of us and are our family instead of packs of other dogs. It’s an even exchange of the good energy of being loved and loving back.

I heard people talk about a thing that happens called political contests.
In neighborhoods where we take walks with humans and meet other dogs doing the same thing, to determine who is top dog isn’t about who can lead or bite the best. It’s mostly about who can pee the most.

Maybe we’re not so different from the ones humans call politicians after all.

Just my doggy thoughts on this weird thing called elections.

Woofs from,

Bailley

 

The Daily Dog: A Beach Full Of Birds November 8, 2006

Woof to you,

Yesterday everyone in my house was up early in the morning. The sun was rising and making the sky look like a beautiful painting. I took a walk on the beach which is usually quiet with nobody out there other than the occasional jogger.

The ocean was the smoothest I’ve ever seen it. No waves at all. Just a ripple or two and on the farthest end beach, I saw something I have never seen before-a gazillion birds sitting in one spot in the water. They were all clumped together, making the place where they gathered look like very large dark circles in water…like a big shadow of birdie feathers to feathers, coloring the ocean.

Bunches of birds stayed sitting together way out on the sea. Some of them sat in groups closer to shore and others were flying in the air all over the beach too.

There was a man on the shoreline. He was all alone, fishing. He was standing in the water up to his knees, casting his line out into the waterto see if he could get some fish to nibble.

Then the birds began to lift off the water of the next beach over and flew right to land in front of and all around him. He couldn’t throw his line out anymore for fear of hitting the birds. They made the air look all fluttery with the many wings beating the air around him and when they settled with many kerplops into the water, there was no way he could continue to fish.

They caw cawed and shreiked eek eek and dove up and down in the air before landing to sit in their big huddle on the water.

There were so many birds I couldn’t count!

The fisherman started to walk out of the water, probably figuring, “Well that’s it for me for the day,” and then the whole bunch started flying up and over to the next beach. It was like someone was invisible leader and passed the word along until all of them flew over on to the next beach and the next.

And way, waaay out in the ocean, I could see that there were other big dark puddles of winged critters collected in their clots on the surface of the sea.

And beyond that there was so much foggy mist that the tankers and steamships looked like they were suspended beyond the birds in magic, airy sky.

They call that an optical illusion.

It was like a new kingdom appeared and disappeared in a now-you-see-it / now- you-don’t sort of fashion.

The fisherman stopped in his sandy tracks and just looked at all of the squawking feathered friends and their funny business and when they went to ther next beach, he went back into the water to kerplunk his line once again in for a try for some fishy food.

Me? I was the quietest, snoopy dog you ever saw. That was a lot of birds in one place and their wings were very wide and dark and white feathery and they had pointy beaks too.
What a fun, unusual way to start the day.

I was happy inside all day long.

Have you ever seen lots of birds in one place like that?

Woofs from,

Bailley

 

 
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