Hunting s Broken Necklace

This a good day already, because when I moved my chair this morning, I found a pair of missing earrings.  I usually lose an earring almost every week. They eventually appear—sometimes in the washing machine or folded laundry, or even in a shoe on the closet floor. Last week  I was sure my missing earring was lost on a shopping trip, and gone forever. Yesterday I found it on the ground in front of my mailbox out by the street.

Somehow, finding my earrings this morning set me on the trail of a favorite necklace, broken and set aside for mending, many years ago. Please don't ask about the mental process that brought this about, because I haven't a clue. Anyway, three boxes of broken strands of beads, broken chains, and old wristwatches later, the necklace is still missing, but two forgotten ones were found. On the right, a strange pewter design needing a longer chain; right, a 2" square of aluminum topped with a disc with apple blossoms.

The original chains holding these old beautiful aluminum discs, are made of large hammered aluminum links. They are ugly. Very ugly. That may be why this piece was in the junk box. I found a more delicate chain and converted the disc into something wearable.

But still no sign of the missing necklace. It's here somewhere. These stacks of boxes are proof that I haven't thrown it (or anything else) away in years. That's good, right? I love the  two salvaged goodies above. So I pull out a promising box stored beneath my desk and open the lid......

Obviously, it's filled with things to good to through away. That's an almost new can opener—the kind I'll be wishing for the next time the electricity goes off, and I want to make a tuna sandwich. And how about that box of corks, or that wonderful little tin box holding those mini tools? Never mind that if I can't fix a problem with a hammer, screwdriver, or pair of pliers, it's time to call for help—preferably a son-in-law.

Then there's that doodad that draws perfect circles. I needed one a few months ago. I don't remember why, but I definitely needed to draw a circle. Then there's that Prince Albert tobacco can. If I could open it, it would be a good place to keep matches—in case I needed matches. Or maybe I'll sell it on eBay. Some people collect these tins, and I've already sold two. On the other hand, this the only one I have left, and like I said—if I could open the lid.......

    I need to take a serious look at the contents of this box. I may throw away that red-handled whisk. It's supposed to whip things like eggs, with an up down pumping motion, but it won't do that anymore. I'm trying to think of some reason to save it, but I'm afraid it's doomed.

I'll tackle all this another day. Right now it's time to watch interviews with presidential candidates.
I expect my thoughts on that  will need careful editing.

Later,
Dannie                                                                                             

Dandy Promises Free Advice

Woof, Woof. I didn't intend to be away all summer, but nowadays, naps are taking a large part of my days. Besides, My Lady is keeping the computer busy —at least she thinks she is. I wonder if she knows that staring at it doesn’t make it work.

I expect I’m a lucky dog. Two other ladies come in often, and I can depend on them for a lot of human chatter, treats, and nice cool water. Yep, I have my own water bottle in the refrigerator. My Lady kind of rolls her eyes about this, but she allows it. I think she vetoed ice cubes in my water bowl, but on really hot days my Sylvia Lady sneaks in a
 few.

With this kind of pampering I shouldn’t have any complaints—but I do. In fact I have a long list. And losing my eyesight  tops that list.  Almost as bothersome is my poor hearing. Loss of hearing is great at naptime, but it’s a real handicap when someone is yelling, “Treat time,” and I can’t decide where the voice is located.

There are other problems, like climbing doggie steps or taking

long walks, but I dealt with those problems real quick.  My Lady helped me make that last jump from my steps onto the bed several times, but being helped is a little embarrassing for a guy like me.  Shucks, I remember when I could jump from the floor to the bed in one easy leap. Anyway, the second time I tumbled to the floor from that top step  I walked away and never looked back.

 It didn’t take long to take care of that long walk situation, either.  I’m very determined (I like that word better than stubborn, don’t you?) so when I decided long walks were a thing of the past, I lay down and wouldn’t move. After my Lady discovered she was leading an empty harness, and I was relaxing back on the shady porch, that issue was settled. 

In case you're interested, I can make putting on a harness very difficult.

Well folks, if I get another chance to grab this computer, I’ll tell you more about what my vet calls “getting old.” It may happen to you someday, and how I’m coping may help you deal with it.

Woof!

A LITTLE BLONDE

Woof, woof.

Something has happened that’s worse than cats, or coons—a skinny little blonde has moved in. Well, maybe she isn’t exactly a blonde. Her hair is as white as my lady’s,

My lady and I got dizzy watching her galloping all over the house.

She went to my bowl and took a few bites and lapped up a little water, so I decided she wouldn’t be a threat to my livelihood and left her alone. That was a big mistake. Now that she feels more at home here, she empties that food bowl every thirty minutes. Now you ladies out there know what that means!

 Of course in my opinion, she could use a little more covering over those bones, and I expect my lady will tend to that.  She’s already taught her to stand back and not crowd when she putting food in our bowl. Did I jAust say ‘our’ bowl?
 I feel a little sorry for her—she’s just a youngster not even a year old yet, and got dumped out on her own. Well she’s got a lot to learn about this old world, and she could start by learning a few rules about living with my lady.  Yep, she got in bad trouble, and has temporary quarters on the front porch —with her own food bowl, I’m happy to see. I hated to hear her cry but she'll have to learn, so I just put my head under a thick pillow. The first night she was here, I shared a couple of my pillows, and I didn’t mind—it was a relief to have the wiggly little thing still.  But the next morning when I was settling down for my morning nap, she jumped up in my face, and I had to discipline her. She learns quick—she hasn’t tried to share my bed since. Maybe I spoke to harshly, but an old fellow like me needs his naps.
Today she had her first lesson in behavior. A friend of mine took her walking with a lease. At first she fought and struggled like a fish on a line. Didn't do her any good. I tried to tell her.  I think she kind of enjoyed it, but she didn't want to leave my lady.

My friend thinks this is what she does when she tells her to sit! Huh! That is what she does when you so much as look at her.  Say 'roll over'  and you can be sure she'll roll over, Of course if you don't say anything  she'l still roll over. I get exhausted just watching her.Did I tell you that she has pretty wavy hair.? Surely some of you knows some one who need a smart little girl like this. She'll grow up to be a nice loving companion just like me. Send me an email. Having around doesn't bother me, but she's too feisty for my lady, and I gotta take car of her.

Woof,
Dandy