“The average dog is a nicer person than the average person.”
~ Andy Rooney
Zoey, of the unconditional love and bad breath, is at the vet’s right now receiving a “senior exam.” I’m hoping I’m wrong about what I sense. Either way, I’m leaving now to pick her up and bring her home to her best friend, Coco. The reunion will result in tail-wagging that would sting my legs if I was foolish enough to get in the way.
At the end of May, Zebu graduated from high school and was one of the speakers. The ceremony was held at Red Rocks Amphitheater (coolest place ever!), but we were seated halfway up the venue so had to rely on the Jumbotron. (Aside: It was a thrill seeing Zebu and friends on the big screen.)
My older brother and his girlfriend also attended, sitting even farther from the stage. Later on, he told me he couldn’t see a whole lot of details but did notice Zebu’s red tie beneath his black gown. I reminded my bro he’d given Zebu that tie for Christmas one year (along with white gym socks), thinking that was a cool factoid. NOT. Rather than feeling warm and nostalgic, my brother panicked a bit because he had no memory of that and went into a short tailspin about getting old and forgetful. I eventually helped the silly codger to a chair and handed him a glass of milk to calm his nerves, and we laughed it off.
Fast forward to today. I just found photographic proof of the tie AND gym socks. Behold, Christmas eve 2005:
l-r: Wildebeest, Zoey, Tracy, Coco, Zebu, and Uncle Pizza.
I’m thrilled with this evidence, but am not sure whether it will soothe or further agitate my brother’s mind . . .
Life’s been hectic and worrisome
and sometimes I forget to smile
so I’m posting this photo to help me remember
those less hectic and worrisome moments.
And then I smile again.
I was warming up the camera before taking Zebu’s senior pictures when I captured this Zoey moment:
The girl always looks a bit worried.
On Wednesday, July 10, we said goodbye to Lebowski. We adopted The Dude (known as “Harry” on his adoption papers) from the Dumb Friends League in November of 2004. I went to the shelter with the intent of adopting another female cat (I’d had two females before, Diva and Isis), and instead ended up with the friendliest (male) cat I’d ever met.
Lebowski would run ahead of us and flop down on the floor, inviting us to rub his tummy. At which time, he’d purr in the loudest tones. Writhing in ecstasy.
When people came to the house, he’d hang back a minute or two but then stroll out to make introductions. Lebowski viewed everyone as potential friends and ear-scratchers.
He had a good relationship with Coco (pictured below) and Zoey, the two shelter dogs we adopted in the year after he joined us. He tolerated their sniffing and nuzzling, and he repaid them with friendly swats on their heads from where he perched atop their crates.
This summer was The Gift of Lebowski. Expectations were that he’d die in May but he stayed with us for almost another ten weeks. I spent most of the summer with him. Lots of time on the bed or couch, but increasingly either on the deck, the patio, or wandering the backyard. He had quality of life as he watched (and sometimes chased) the butterflies and stalked beetles. In the final days, he was happy to curl up beneath the yarrow and valerian where he could observe everything around him. 
I like to say that Lebowski won the lottery when we brought him home because for the rest of his life he had four devoted friends who loved on him and satisfied his hedonism. But that lottery feeling went both ways. I’m forever grateful the female cat I’d picked out to meet/adopt didn’t want anything to do with me and that the shelter volunteer then said, “You know who’s a really nice cat you should meet . . .”
Words can’t do him justice.
1) Whenever fifteen-year-old Zebu winks at me, I swing between feelings of admiration and intimidation since I’ve never felt confident enough of my winking ability to do so.
image from morguefile.com
2) At my suggestion eighteen-year-old Wildebeest is reading Stephen King’s MISERY, and enjoying himself mightily.
3) Zoey and Coco want me to remember that when I choose to bathe them and
spray them with water, I must be prepared for the relationship to suffer a loss of trust.
© Tracy Abell 2012
4) Zippy is reading a library e-copy of 1Q84 by Haruki Murakami, a 944-page
novel, and was thrilled to discover even though his copy is overdue he can
still read it as long as he doesn’t close the file.
5) I’ve been battling flu-like symptoms much of the week but plan to get
on the treadmill in a couple hours for my cardio workout, and hope to feel
those “endolphins” kick in (so I’m, in the words of Zippy, “swimming in the dolphin tank.”)
image from morguefile.com
Wishing everyone a lovely weekend!
Just finished vacuuming.
Again.
As soon as I put the vacuum away, the floor was already sprinkled with hair.
Why's that, Tracy?
I dunno.
Why don't you ask Zoey?
Anyone know how to attach a shop vac to a dog?
“Do not waste yourself in rejection;
do not bark against the bad, but chant the beauty of the good.”
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
© Tracy Abell 2011
I’ve been neglecting LJ-land so Zoey and I are popping in to see what’s shakin’.
If nothing exciting’s happening make something up in the comments, okay?
May your weekend hold much good stuff,
and go easy on the saliva.
© 2010 Tracy Abell
I’m working hard on revisions.
Rewriting the ending.
I know some of you are working hard today, also.
My writer buddies.
We’re all in this together.
Wishing you all a wonderful weekend with fewer scowls than smiles!
Guess who went outside last night for a final romp before bedtime?
Guess who encountered a skunk?
Guess who got to bathe the skunkified dogs?
Guess whose house still stinks?
Guess who’s now thinking, in retrospect, those parent-teacher conferences weren’t all that bad?
It’s been a wild ride the past few days but emotions have calmed and personalities have stopped clashing, at least for this moment. And for that, I am thankful.
Wishing all of you a calm and peaceful Thanksgiving.
Tracy Abell 
