Cap's Corner

Although we terriers bring a lot of joy and laughter into our home, Saturday was different. That's the day Cap made Mom cry.

She was gathering us together for a ride in the pickup, but only Glynn and I were dancing around waiting for the leashes to come out. Where was Cap? He didn't come bouncing up with us. He wasn't in any of his usual napping places, and wasn't standing over the dinner dish. Mom looked everywhere and called over and over, but no Cap.

Of course, Glynn and I had only one thing on our minds, and that was going for a ride. We weren't much interested in wasting time for an old dog who wouldn't come when whistled for, but Mom wasn't going to budge until we found him. Finally, she saw him laying with his head in the corner, very still. Oh, let me tell you, I thought the ride was going to be cancelled right then and there. She walked over, looked at him sadly, and cried, "Oh, Cap!"

That's when the old boy sat straight up and yelped, "Who? Where? What cat?"

I guess that sunny spot was too much to resist, and he just dropped right there facing the corner for a snooze, totally oblivious to what was going on around him. Mom was relieved that he was alright, but then upset that he gave her such a scare. I do believe Mom's "favorite" got demoted a notch or two that day. hee hee

We all got a lot of huggin' and lovin', even a bath and fur-fluffin' that day. Mom says the only thing wrong with dogs is that they don't live forever. Other than that, we're perfect. She kept that thought in mind until Sunday morning.

That's when she spied Cap sprawled in the same corner, same position. The only sign he was alive was one back leg was kicking a little in his sleep. Sweet dreams, Cap-aroo!

~Tell

Pansy's New 'Do

Look what happened to our calico cat, Pansy. She got a new new hairdo.

This is before...

And this is after...

I didn't do it. No, siree. Nope, Mom got tired of all that long, matted hair, and Pansy was getting cranky from the matting and itching. She was also hacking hairballs and was terribly uncomfortable. It's a fierce battle to brush her (Pansy spits and claws), so we got out the old clippers and -- Voila! -- Kitty feels much better now. She even felt good enough to pounce and play with the silk flowers afterwards.

Of course, we terriers are snickering behind her back. Pansy doesn't take redicule lightly and would just as soon slap us as ignore us. Best to lay low for the time being. You know, with my talent as an experienced chicken-plucker, you would think Mom would have let me have a go at fur. I could have removed that tangled hair pretty quickly...given the chance, even the poodle pom-pom at the end of her tail. But noooooo, nobody asked for my help.

But maybe next time...as we all know, hair (and feathers) grow back.

~Tell

Movie Memories

Mom and I were cruising around town this week when we saw something that was quite startling. Our small town movie theater is being demolished! What a sad sight. It was built in 1926 and was a grand old building for its time. It closed seven years ago and had fallen to disrepair. Windows were broken, pigeons were roosting, and it just had an abandoned look about it. We were hoping someone would remodel the theater and open it again, but I guess it wasn't to be. Of course, being a dog, I thought it looked interesting anyway and wanted to sniff around, maybe find some vermin or pigeon poo or something wonderful, but Mom wouldn't let me out to investigate. She said it didn't look safe anymore.


Mom and Dad used to go there to see movies waaaaay back in the '70's when they were dating. That was before my time, about when the Superman movies began coming out. Mom always liked those movies because Dad was a dead ringer for the young Christopher Reeve (sans the Super suit). Heads sure turned when they went to the cinema together. Going to the movies was a real treat back in those college days when they were starving students. Sticky floors, crowded seats, buttery popcorn, and little kids kicking the back of the chairs...what memories!

Now that special place is just a pile of bricks and rubble, slowly being hauled away in truckloads. In a few weeks, nothing will be left but a vacant lot. Maybe, just maybe, something nice will be built in its place. We'll just have to wait and see.

It won't be the same without Christopher Reeve, though.
~Tell

Spring Has Sprung, The Grass Has Riz...

Spring seems to have sprung overnight here on the farm. Snow one day, sunny the next, and then came the flowers. After all the bulldozing and terrace remodeling around the house last year, we weren't sure if any of the daffodils would come back. Suddenly they were everywhere, though not where we remembered planting them. That's okay, though, we live on a country farm and things grow wherever they want to pop up.

The big yellow flower is a daffodil (but you probably already knew that). The smaller white flowers with the tiny lavender stripes are called American Beauty. Grandma-Great used to call them Good Morning, Spring. They are one of the first wildflowers to bloom and are so small that they are easily overlooked. Still, they are one of my favorites since they are early bloomers. Did you know that Native Americans used to eat the tubers from these flowers? Wow, I'll bet they had to dig a whole lot of them to make a meal.

Leo and Cedric, the resident goats, have decided to stay on our farm after the show season ends. Their job will be grass mowing and weed eating, so I guess you could say they are in the lawn maintainence business. Here is Leo, ready to begin his first day at the new job. "Hey, open the starting gate! I'm hungry!"

Clover seems to be the favorite right now, but soon they'll eat everything in sight, including the dreaded poison ivy that grows around the tree trunks, and also the sumac that grows near the clothesline. Yuck, how could anything eat that and not swell up and die? They love it though, and it doesn't hurt them at all. God made them tough, I guess.

So here's a view of our yard in the springtime. The goats are happy, the chickens are happy, and all's right with the world. Springtime is the best time!

~Tell

Cap's Special Day

With three terriers in the house, it's easy to get lost in the shuffle, or scuffle as we sometimes call it. Our solution is to have a special day all to ourselves with Mom. Most of the time we go to work with her, hang around the office, maybe ride in the truck to the feed store or someplace else. It's nice to have some one-on-one time without all the competition. Of course, the two left at home whine a little but it all sorts out in the end. As you can see, having all of us in the truck at the same time is a little crowded. Hey, scoot over, I'm riding shotgun!


To keep it all in order, we go by alphabet so we can keep it straight. This week was Cap's turn for a special day. His favorite part about going to the office is raiding the toy box Mom keeps for him in the back. The squeakies are his favorite. He likes to pretend he's a lean, mean, squeakie-killin' machine. Grrr!


The old boy can still romp despite the arthritis. Nothing slows him down when he gets a squeakie toy in his mouth.

Nothing, that is, except to stop for a good rumpus scritching. Ahhh! Then he's off again!

When it was time to leave, he really wanted to take the toy raccoon with him. So Mom gave in and let him bring it home. She always gives in to Cap. I secretly believe Mom loves him best (so I sound like a Smothers Brother, or what?).

Next week is Glynn's turn, then ME! I can hardly wait!
~Tell

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Pig Show

Last week was the big district livestock show, and My Girl and My Boy were very excited about going. They picked five piggies to take, and those little porkers got a Spa Day! They were all washed, spiffed and shined up, loaded in the trailer and taken to school. Then they joined the group to be hauled to the show an hour away. By now those fellows had gone to enough shows that they were excited about the trip and were grunting and talking to each other on the way.

Then a bad thing happened. Mom got a phone call at work, and My Girl told her that the trailer of pigs only got about a half mile from the school when it caught on fire! Oh, Mom almost got sick when she heard the news! The group pulled over to the side of the road, and Mrs. School Principal acted quick and beat the the flames with her hoodie (which I sadly suspect is totally ruined now). My Girl grabbed a feed bucket and went to the ditch for water. Between the two of them and their quick thinking, they put the fire out and all turned out well. We didn't lose any pigs or kids, but alas, the trailer kinda melted.

Dad borrowed a friend's trailer and brought the pigs home. Boy, were they disappointed. That was the shortest trailer ride they'd ever been on, they missed the show, and they weren't ready to come back. We dragged the burnt trailer to town for repairs. The mechanic said that the electric brakes locked up, two of the wheels stopped turning, and the friction started the rubber burning. Rubber + Friction = Fire. I think I learned some physics from this. Anyway, the trailer was repaired and pronounced safe, but Mom doesn't trust it much now.

My Boy and My Girl go to so many shows with their pigs and goats, I always said that one day they would haul the wheels off that trailer. I guess they finally did!

~Tell

Let It Snow!

It snowed yesterday, great gobs of it everywhere. This is a picture of Mom's memory garden under the sugar maple tree. She started the memory garden when her two schnauzers Ty and Carly passed away years ago. It's a special place just to remember the fun times with those two great doggies. While they may have been dignified little terriers, we WFT's are the ones who make the family laugh. I guess we're all special in our own ways.

Have you ever got a song stuck in your head, and can't do anything but hum it all day long? Well, since yesterday it's been Dean Martin's version of Let It Snow!

Oh the weather outside is frightful

But the fire is so delightful

And since we've no place to go

Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!

Forgive the fence in front of our faces, but it's the only thing holding us back from pouncing on My Boy while he took our picture. Can you see all the tracks in the snow? I think about 1,398,207 of them are mine.

Have a happy snow day!

~Tell