<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085</id><updated>2011-04-21T16:04:33.300-05:00</updated><category term='If life is a party'/><category term='Small World'/><category term='party on.'/><title type='text'>Unwritten</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>75</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-2470978961751153882</id><published>2007-11-24T12:53:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-24T13:02:15.972-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Thanksgiving</title><content type='html'>Hope &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;y'all&lt;/span&gt; had a nice Thanksgiving. Mom and Dad went out to dinner so we (Skeeter and I) didn't get any leftovers. The next day Mom cooked some &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Turkey&lt;/span&gt; for all of us so we got some on Friday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are looking forward to Christmas and before. My (our) human sister is coming on the 19&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; and will stay until after Christmas. I know we will get leftovers at Christmas. Mom wouldn't dare not cook a turkey for Christmas. Pie too. Yes, dogs like pie, especially the crust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We haven't put up any decorations yet but I think pretty soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom quit her job. She will be looking for a new one soon. There was too much stress on the old one and she was on her feet all day. She would like to get back to office work of some kind. That's what she's best at anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skeeter and I wish you all happy holidays.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-2470978961751153882?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/2470978961751153882/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=2470978961751153882&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/2470978961751153882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/2470978961751153882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/11/thanksgiving.html' title='Thanksgiving'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-7515891556302455913</id><published>2007-11-12T09:09:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-12T09:23:17.780-05:00</updated><title type='text'>New Curtains</title><content type='html'>The first thing I want to tell you is that Dad liked the new curtain  :).&lt;br /&gt;It took so long for Mom to find them, I hated to see her looking again. For selfish reasons I must add. If she's gone shopping, she's not home with me and Skeeter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad also made a new mantle piece for the brick wall around our Franklin Stove. He needs to finish it but Mom can't decide if she wants to paint or stain it, Probably paint will win out. The top of the brick wall, in fact the whole thing was very rustic looking. The new mantle finishes it off nicer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rustic, in this case, means they did a lousy job when they built it but it's too hard and messy to tear it all out and rebuild.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have been very &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;remiss&lt;/span&gt; in keeping up our blog so don't know if we will continue or not. We will for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have been taking longer walks because Mom wants to lose some weight and Skeeter needs to. Mom lost 5 pounds and Skeeter a little over 1 pound. He only weighed 18 to begin with but should weigh no more than 15 according to the vet. Mom weighed...........Sorry Mom, I almost forgot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Human sister sent this quote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When I was younger, I could &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;remember&lt;/span&gt; anything, whether it happened or not."  Mark Twain.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-7515891556302455913?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/7515891556302455913/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=7515891556302455913&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/7515891556302455913'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/7515891556302455913'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/11/new-curtains.html' title='New Curtains'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-7058355971879922109</id><published>2007-11-05T11:04:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-05T11:35:24.402-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Where To Begin</title><content type='html'>It has been over a week since Mom and I blogged. We have been really busy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The new doors are up with primer coat but need a finish coat of paint. Two accent lights have been installed. Poor Daddy. He had to go up in the attic (?). No head room. He had to crawl on his belly to do the electrical work. They are a nice addition. Our house is now a Florida, Colonial, Modern house but everything goes together pretty well. Mom is happy. I'm sure you've heard the saying "If Mom ain't happy, ain't &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;nobody&lt;/span&gt; happy."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom put up new curtains in the living room. Dad hasn't seen them yet but I think he will like them. They have little balls, excuse me tassels hanging from them. I was quite interested in them and tried to get close enough to check them out but Mom shooed me away. Now they're up too high.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom has also been working hard at her job. It's getting so she dreads going to work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skeeter and I are trying to get used to the new time change.Saturday night Mom was so tired she went to be at 8PM. So did we. Usually we sleep about seven hours. So when 3 O'clock rolled around we let Mom know it was time to get up. She got a little upset with us. Took us out to the back yard in case we needed to do any business and then went back to sleep until 5 AM. By then we KNEW it was time to get up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got an e-mail from my human sister. She will be here for Christmas. Can't wait. Skeeter hasn't been here for Christmas yet. Wait until he smells that turkey and pie cooking all day. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;YUMMM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is not really a quote. It is a cartoon my Mom saw. I will try to explain it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;St. Peter is standing at the gate checking in a gentleman. Standing beside St Peter is a little dog. St Peter says to the man "So you're little Bobbie: well, Rex here has been going on and on about you for the last 50 years."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We, especially Mom, miss you Buddy.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-7058355971879922109?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/7058355971879922109/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=7058355971879922109&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/7058355971879922109'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/7058355971879922109'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/11/where-to-begin.html' title='Where To Begin'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-8347393627978929421</id><published>2007-10-27T09:37:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-27T10:00:28.798-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Busy, Busy, Busy</title><content type='html'>Mom had to work the latter &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;part&lt;/span&gt;of this week. She is off today but she said she is very tired. I feel a nap coming on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom and Dad decided to "Update" the house a little. They had louvered doors and are replacing them with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;bifold&lt;/span&gt; panel doors. Also they were looking for a new dining room set because the one we had is too big for the room. After looking and some of the poorly made stuff out there and the prices, they took the top off the big hutch and made the bottom half a buffet or server. It made the room look much bigger. Now what to do with the top half. If you know anyone interested, let me know.It's too heavy to hang on a wall and use as a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;knick&lt;/span&gt; knack shelf. Someone could use it and I would give it to them if they were interested. By the way, it is solid rock maple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got a call from my human sister. She has a busy weekend planned. She is going to take care of Mom's grandaughter tonight. Hi, Hannah.Wish you could come see us again. You've never seen Skeeter. Warning! He will kiss you lots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a Halloween party in our subdivision last night. Mom tried but she didn't make it. She went down there but they were picking things up. Too bad. There is another Halloween party downtown tonight but she won't make that either. I know it's for kids but Mom likes to watch the kids having fun.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is by Samuel Butler&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"All animals except man know that the ultimate of life is to enjoy it."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-8347393627978929421?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/8347393627978929421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=8347393627978929421&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8347393627978929421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8347393627978929421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/10/busy-busy-busy.html' title='Busy, Busy, Busy'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-2747191374590085405</id><published>2007-10-22T13:40:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-22T13:53:37.861-05:00</updated><title type='text'>There Go The Peppers</title><content type='html'>Mom planted her peppers outside the other day. The next time she looked all that was left was a couple of stubs. Something had eaten all the leaves off the plants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't me and it wasn't Skeeter. It was probably one of those big grasshopper Mom keeps catching.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom and Dad &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;decided&lt;/span&gt; to update some of the house. They started looking at lights for the kitchen. Today they went to a lighting place and when they came out the truck had died. I mean DEAD. The store was nice enough to send one of their guys out with their truck and give us a jump start. We pulled into a repair place and they were doing NO business. They were happy to see us and we were happy they had a new battery for us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We still have one pineapple left. The grasshoppers better stay away from that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is too late to start more peppers. Maybe the store has some. Mom will check.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is by Irma &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Bombeck&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" When you're an orthodox worrier, some days are worse than others."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-2747191374590085405?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/2747191374590085405/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=2747191374590085405&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/2747191374590085405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/2747191374590085405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/10/there-go-peppers.html' title='There Go The Peppers'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-7956003395639796411</id><published>2007-10-18T18:49:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T18:58:27.510-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Gusher?</title><content type='html'>Last time I told you how my Dad &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;accidentally&lt;/span&gt; cut a water line when he was trying to dig up a plant to move it to a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;better&lt;/span&gt; location. Well, that got fixed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning it was our turn to water. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;When&lt;/span&gt; the lawn irrigation system got to the zone where Dad planted the bush, it looked like when they show the big oil rigs when they hit oil. Seems Dad &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;accidentally&lt;/span&gt; hit another part of the water system with the shovel when he dug the hole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He fixed it today but we are not discussing it in this house.(snicker) Sorry but it really was sort of funny.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is from my MOM&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thank God I don't have to go to work until next Thursday. Yeah!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skeeter and I love it when Mom stays home. Even when she runs the vacuum cleaner.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-7956003395639796411?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/7956003395639796411/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=7956003395639796411&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/7956003395639796411'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/7956003395639796411'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/10/another-gusher.html' title='Another Gusher?'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-4010390780633021621</id><published>2007-10-15T17:24:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-10-15T17:42:53.693-05:00</updated><title type='text'>The Weekend in review</title><content type='html'>Mom went to a plant sale on Saturday with a new friend named Barbara.They went to a place called Discovery Gardens. Mom took her "Little Red Wagon" to put the plants in. Both of them bought a lot of plants. They were mainly looking for plants that attract butterflies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then they went to the farmers market, the store where Mom works and out to lunch. Skeeter and I were home alone until almost 3 &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;o'clock&lt;/span&gt;. When Mom got home the phone was ringing, the lady left some of her produce in Mom's truck. She came to get it so we got to meet her. Now we have a new friend too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday Mom and Dad worked in the yard, after our Sunday Morning nap of course. Dad was trying to move a Bush that had grown too big where it was. It was brushing against the truck when Mom or Dad backed it out of the driveway. It had some big roots way under the bush. Dad took his big "Loppers" reached under the bush and cut the water line. Water blew dirt and mud all over both Dad and Mom. Dad fell down trying to got away from the water. He is OK. Mom pulled the plug on the water pump to stop the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Geyser&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today Dad went riding his motorcycle. Mom took Skeeter to the Vet. he's OK too. BUT I got left home ALL ALONE. Can you believe that? I sat right there in the front door window and waited for them to come back. I checked Skeeter all out to see where he had been. He drives me crazy sometimes but I miss him when he's gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is by my Dad when he cut the water line by accident&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"@#$%%^&amp;amp;&amp;amp;*((*&amp;amp;&amp;amp;^%%$##@"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Please excuse his language. H e was upset. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;LOL&lt;/span&gt; .Upset doesn't even half cover it Doesn't it get you mad when you do something stupid?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-4010390780633021621?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/4010390780633021621/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=4010390780633021621&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/4010390780633021621'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/4010390780633021621'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/10/weekend-in-review.html' title='The Weekend in review'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-4742852733096207599</id><published>2007-10-12T16:40:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-12T16:53:12.066-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Will Somebody Turn The Lights On, Please</title><content type='html'>I know I am always talking about my little brother Skeeter. I really do love him and try to watch out for him. I have to tell you, but please keep it a secret I don't want him to feel bad. Skeeter is a wimp.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;doggie&lt;/span&gt; door from the bedroom to the screen room and another to the outside. We can go out and in any time we want or need to. We also have motion lights. Before we all go to bed Mom takes Skeeter and I out to mind our business, if you know what I mean. Anyway, Mom is big enough to turn the motion lights on so its always lit up. Skeeter has had to go out during the night last night and the night before. He's too little to turn the lights on so he comes back and barks at Mom so she'll get up and turn the lights on. I told you he's a w i m p. We love him anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't remember who today's quote is by. It's an old one but it's good to refresh our memory once in a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Be who you are &amp;amp; say what you feel...Because those that matter don't mind...and those that mind don't matter."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-4742852733096207599?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/4742852733096207599/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=4742852733096207599&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/4742852733096207599'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/4742852733096207599'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/10/will-somebody-turn-lights-on-please.html' title='Will Somebody Turn The Lights On, Please'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-3020391925829979488</id><published>2007-10-10T07:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-10T07:27:06.917-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Smart Skeeter?</title><content type='html'>Yesterday Dad was working in the yard putting up a small stone wall. Skeeter and I were outside helping him. Skeeter never lets Mom out of his sight for long so he went back in the house. No Mom !!!! She had gone next door but Skeeter did not see her go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He searched the whole house. She was gone!!! He went back outside. Dads shed has two doors. One is inside the fenced yard, the other is outside. Both were open. Skeeter went &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;through&lt;/span&gt; the shed to freedom and followed his Mom's scent to the house next door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Imagine how surprised she was when she looked up and saw Skeeter sitting outside the neighbors door looking in. Good thing she has a full glass door. Mom rushed home to see how Skeeter got out and if I was gone too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily I am such a good dog. I stayed in the yard. I didn't tattle on Skeeter either. In retrospect, I should have. He might have gotten hurt or run over or something if he had to search far for Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My quote is from Shakespeare, I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;All's&lt;/span&gt; well that ends well."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-3020391925829979488?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/3020391925829979488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=3020391925829979488&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/3020391925829979488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/3020391925829979488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/10/smart-skeeter.html' title='Smart Skeeter?'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-8761706877038392111</id><published>2007-10-09T08:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-09T08:16:43.869-06:00</updated><title type='text'>New Dryer</title><content type='html'>Mom went back to work on Saturday. She only worked the one day last week. She will be working two days this week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Thursday she went out to lunch with five other ladies. They went to Red Lobster. It must have been good because she didn't bring home any &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;doggie&lt;/span&gt; bags, not even a cheese biscuit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her Clothes Dryer died last Thursday. Dad tried to fix it. He is usually pretty good at that stuff but this time, alas. Sunday He and Mom went looking for a dryer. They came back without buying one.They went out again Monday. They even went to a place that has the most annoying commercials on TV. They had lots of "Junk". They even had some scratch and dent merchandise. One dryer had the whole front smashed in and they still wanted over $250.00 for it. Mom said she wouldn't even take it as a gift.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They ended up at a second &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Lowes&lt;/span&gt; which had the dryer Mom originally wanted, in stock. The first one they went to didn't have one and it was an 8 to 10 day wait.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom and Dad brought it home in the truck, installed it and we were drying clothes by mid afternoon. The clothes originally washed had to be washed over again. They stayed wet too long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning she gave both Skeeter and I a bath. We escaped the new dryer but used lots of towels. They are in the dryer. Skeeter loves warm towels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Today's&lt;/span&gt; quote is from a TV commercial.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you didn't buy it at .........you paid too much."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least Mom has one that's this year's model and no dents.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-8761706877038392111?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/8761706877038392111/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=8761706877038392111&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8761706877038392111'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8761706877038392111'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/10/new-dryer.html' title='New Dryer'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-1731773805047657437</id><published>2007-10-03T07:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-03T07:18:38.758-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Warm Towels</title><content type='html'>I told you how it rained all day yesterday. Well, last night it finally stopped so Mom decided to take us for a walk. Dad said he was too tired but if it started to rain, he would pick us up in the truck. Great! So Mom decided to take us on our long route. About half way around, it started to pour. We ran and walked fast until we got home soaking wet. Dad had fallen asleep in his chair and didn't know it was raining.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our towels were still damp from the morning walk so Mom stuck them in the dryer for a few minutes and dried us the best she could with another towel. It wasn't long before the towels were dry and warm. They were okay and felt pretty good. Skeeter loved that warm towel so much he lay wrapped in it for most of the evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We didn't get mad at Dad because he worked too hard in the yard. He dug around some small stumps and then pulled them out with the truck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad saw a BIG white bird in our yard and called to Mom to bring her &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;camera&lt;/span&gt;. Mom got there just in time to see the bird catch a snake (in our  yard). The snake wrapped himself around that birds beak but the bird finally got the snake loose and swallowed it whole. Mom got some neat pictures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is from K. Hubbard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Kindness goes a long way lots of times when it should stay at home."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-1731773805047657437?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/1731773805047657437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=1731773805047657437&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/1731773805047657437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/1731773805047657437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/10/warm-towels.html' title='Warm Towels'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-3915848357785916631</id><published>2007-10-02T09:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-10-02T09:22:07.903-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Rain, Rain</title><content type='html'>It rained all night and it is almost noon and still raining. The weather channel shows even more rain.Mom put on her rain suit and took us walking in the pouring rain at 6:45 AM. I did my "Business" right away but Skeeter just wanted back in the house. Took four towels to dry us off. Mom only got her shoes and socks wet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom, skeeter and I planted some fall flowers yesterday. I guess they have been watered in. Pepper plants are not big enough to plant outside yet. Will have to buy tomato plants. Too late to start from seed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad is feeling a little better but not great. Haven't heard about his first test yet. Friday we go to FT Myers for a test, another on t he 10&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; and Doctor R on the 24&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom got an all clear from both her doctors so it's back to work on Saturday.That means Skeeter and I will be alone all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's message is not really a quote. It's by me, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Sassygirl&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rain, Rain go away&lt;br /&gt;Come back later on today.&lt;br /&gt;Just an hour or so rain free&lt;br /&gt;Little Skeeter has to pee.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-3915848357785916631?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/3915848357785916631/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=3915848357785916631&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/3915848357785916631'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/3915848357785916631'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/10/rain-rain.html' title='Rain, Rain'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-733367457034556368</id><published>2007-09-30T12:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-09-30T12:08:24.341-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Cooler Weather at Last</title><content type='html'>Well, here it is, the last day of September. We finally have a cool day. Mom turned the air off and opened all the doors and windows. It's great, except for the love bugs that get in every time anyone opens the door. They should be gone in another week or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad is feeling pretty good today. He has had a lot of health problems. The family doctor is taking a bunch of tests to be on the safe side. Mom doesn't know what to buy for food anymore. Dad is diabetic, possible lactose &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;intolerant&lt;/span&gt;, has serious heart problems and needs to watch his cholesterol. If anybody has a good menu to fit all criteria, please send it to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Big holes in our yard not caused by armadillos. We have gopher turtles and it is against the law to kill them. We have half a dozen big holes under our bushes and fence.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-733367457034556368?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/733367457034556368/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=733367457034556368&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/733367457034556368'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/733367457034556368'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/09/cooler-weather-at-last.html' title='Cooler Weather at Last'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-6007695451993369230</id><published>2007-09-26T07:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-09-26T07:37:55.074-06:00</updated><title type='text'>butterflies</title><content type='html'>Mom and three friends went to a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;rain forest&lt;/span&gt; butterfly garden yesterday. Mom had a real good time. She got lots of pictures. She also got a list of plants in Florida that attract butterflies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have some already but Mom wants more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our friend is out of the hospital but he will be going into a nursing home. He can't take care of himself any longer. It's sad when that happens but sadder when they fall or don't eat properly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are slowly starting a vegetable garden. We only want a few things because our yard is too small for a big garden. So far all we have is 5 pepper plants. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Tomatoes&lt;/span&gt; will be next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is by Alice Walker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In search of my mother's garden I found my own."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-6007695451993369230?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/6007695451993369230/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=6007695451993369230&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/6007695451993369230'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/6007695451993369230'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/09/butterflies.html' title='butterflies'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-7474422639976462141</id><published>2007-09-22T17:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-09-22T17:17:43.259-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Stormy Weather</title><content type='html'>The last two days or so have been very traumatic for a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Cocker&lt;/span&gt; Spaniel who is terrified of thunder and lightening. We have had more than our share of both.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friends of Mom and Dad lost most of their house to the tornado Thursday night. The husband got blown off his motorcycle as he was headed home. He ended up hanging on to a tree. When he got home, his house was damaged beyond livable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the third tornado to hit our general area since the end of  December. Florida is not noted for &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;tornadoes&lt;/span&gt; but it seems to be this year. We will all be glad when hurricane season is over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom and Dad went to the hospital to visit a friend they took there yesterday. He is 93 and is not doing as well as hoped. Please remember him in your prayers. His name is Ira. Thank you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is Sunday so Mom and Dad will go to the hospital again and maybe we will get our Sunday nap in the afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom is going back to work in October. She still can't lift anything but she promised to be careful&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is helping in a fashion show on Thursday. She will mainly be taking pictures but she will also wear one of the stores outfits so she will model one outfit. She likes to show off pretty clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her writers group has a temporary place for next months meeting. Mom liked the place last month. I hope &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;they&lt;/span&gt; can work it out. It's right next door to where they were before. Big room, Lots of parking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is by Lydia Maria Child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why should we all dress after the same fashion? The frost never paints my windows twice alike."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's frost?"&lt;br /&gt;       Sassygirl&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-7474422639976462141?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/7474422639976462141/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=7474422639976462141&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/7474422639976462141'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/7474422639976462141'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/09/stormy-weather.html' title='Stormy Weather'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-4754065725079359482</id><published>2007-09-21T16:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-09-21T16:22:59.998-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Keeping Busy</title><content type='html'>Mom had her staples removed on Monday. The doctor said she is doing fine but cannot do much or lift much for four more weeks. Mom will be a basket case by then.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has even gone shopping. If you know my Mom you know she does not like to shop. She went to Pet store, Pier One, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;TJ&lt;/span&gt; Max, Bed Bath and Beyond, Target, and Ross &lt;em&gt;all in one day&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is on a redecorating binge too. She has been measuring windows, picking up paint chips and looking at new lamps. The computer room is getting full of stuff to try to sell at a yard sale. I checked and Skeeter and I are safe. None of our toys are in the "Pile".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had to take an elderly friend to the hospital today. She was gone all day. He is too old to come home by himself so I think his family is going to have to put him into a nursing home or at least assisted living.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have had lots of bad thunder storms. Last night there were several tornado warnings. WE escaped but came close again.Last night the lightening was very close. One shook the house just after we went to bed so I slept between Mom &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;and&lt;/span&gt; Dad all night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom can't dig a garden because of her surgery but a friend suggested doing some container gardening. We will try some tomatoes and peppers if nothing else. Time to go shopping again at the nursery.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-4754065725079359482?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/4754065725079359482/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=4754065725079359482&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/4754065725079359482'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/4754065725079359482'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/09/keeping-busy.html' title='Keeping Busy'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-3552617137399137487</id><published>2007-09-16T12:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-09-16T12:27:35.096-06:00</updated><title type='text'>We're Baaaack</title><content type='html'>Mom is feeling pretty &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;good&lt;/span&gt; now. She goes to the Doctor tomorrow. She can't wait to get the staples out. She says they itch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first she didn't feel like doing much but now she can't wait for the Doctor to say "No restrictions."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has been doing a little writing. She has a children's story she will probably submit to her writer's club. She has started another story as a part of her life. She is writing an &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Autobiography&lt;/span&gt;. using small stories of her life. This one is about a family heirloom. She is also working on her "Long short story" which is a mystery&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;According to her the mystery is whether she ever gets it finished or not. She keeps adding characters but they are all important to the story. I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skeeter and I LOVE having her home every day. We get lots of attention and naps. Love those naps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is by Mom's boss&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When do you think the Doctor will let you come back to work and how much can you lift?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-3552617137399137487?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/3552617137399137487/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=3552617137399137487&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/3552617137399137487'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/3552617137399137487'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/09/were-baaaack.html' title='We&apos;re Baaaack'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-7098298818729113572</id><published>2007-09-08T08:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-09-08T09:15:01.760-06:00</updated><title type='text'>The Last Pineapple</title><content type='html'>Mom picked and has eaten most of the last pineapple. The next biggie will be grapefruit. In between we hope for some veggies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As soon as Mom is well enough to do some digging etc., we will get a small garden going. Maybe we can just do some container gardening this year. We did it before with good results.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister sent a present to Mom. Maybe it will come today. It will be the first time, I think, that it will be a surprise. Usually they can't wait to tell each other what they bought. I want to know too. Maybe its something we can share. Maybe it's food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom went to a yard sale a couple of houses away. She brought a vase and another candle. This one smells like a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;creamsickle&lt;/span&gt;. If Mom lit all her candles at once we could heat up the whole house. She likes to burn several at a time if she is cooking things like fish or cabbage. The food smell is OK with me but Mom likes fruit and flowery smells and COFFEE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best thing about having Mom home sick is that she almost always takes a nap every day. Sometimes more than one. Skeeter and I take one with her so she won't get lonely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Today's&lt;/span&gt; quote is by my Mom who stole it from James Brown&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I Feel Good"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-7098298818729113572?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/7098298818729113572/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=7098298818729113572&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/7098298818729113572'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/7098298818729113572'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/09/last-pineapple.html' title='The Last Pineapple'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-9160616565324587558</id><published>2007-09-02T07:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-09-02T07:21:24.466-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Labor Day</title><content type='html'>Mom has Labor Day off. I'll bet she gets lots of work done because she is having minor surgery on Tuesday. She will probably plant some vegetables.She wants to get her garden started.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She saw some really pretty  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;shrubs&lt;/span&gt; in a neighbors yard. She will be looking for those too. They are bright greenish yellow. I feel some transplanting being done. She has to move some stuff to put the new plants where she wants them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After her surgery she can't lift or do any heavy work. That is going to drive her crazy!!She got some yarn in case she gets tired of reading and writing. Somebody will probable get a new afghan. A friend is going to get married so maybe she'll get the afghan.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom is a little happier with her hair now. It has been washed and is a little more relaxed.(The curls I mean).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She finally got the spare room closet cleaned out. She should take a picture because it won't stay that way for long. Experience tells me that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is a picnic day for Mom and Dad. Skeeter and I weren't invited. We'll probably get something good later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skeeter and I got our monthly pills for fleas and worms today. Mom makes little meat balls out of our dog food and hides the pills inside. She thinks I don't know they're inside. I just eat them real fast because she is relentless. I used to spit them out but she just stuffed them in my mouth and held it shut until I swallowed. This way is much nicer for both of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Have a nice weekend and Mom and I will be back on line as soon as she feels up to it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't forget to put out your flag out on the 11&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-9160616565324587558?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/9160616565324587558/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=9160616565324587558&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/9160616565324587558'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/9160616565324587558'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/09/labor-day.html' title='Labor Day'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-2885110726547804107</id><published>2007-08-29T10:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-29T11:02:01.606-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Do You Look Like Your Dog?</title><content type='html'>Yesterday Mom and Dad were talking about people say dogs look like their owners or vice &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;versa&lt;/span&gt;. Anyway, they determined that Mom and I look a little alike, blond hair, sort of wavy etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today she looks just Like Skeeter, a toy poodle, She had it cut and permed. If it were black instead of blond she would look just like Skeeter. I know every time she gets it cut or permed, she can't wait for it to grow out again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think next time she should get a couple of wigs so she can change her hairstyle  daily.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's Quote is by my Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I look like a poodle."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-2885110726547804107?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/2885110726547804107/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=2885110726547804107&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/2885110726547804107'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/2885110726547804107'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/08/do-you-look-like-your-dog.html' title='Do You Look Like Your Dog?'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-8976346326796915448</id><published>2007-08-26T11:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-26T11:36:15.813-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Flea Market</title><content type='html'>One Question. Why do they call it a flea market?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad and Mom went to one today today. After walking from one end to the other Dad bought 2 pair of reading glasses. Mom petted all the puppies. I could smell them when she got home. She didn't buy any. Dad probably wouldn't let her. Besides, I have all I can do to keep Skeeter in line.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom did buy tomatoes, peppers, peaches, etc. etc.It will be time to plant a garden soon. We just have to think of a way to keep Skeeter out. He's not a digger but he pees on everything outside. Mom will come up with something.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the risk of sounding political today's quote is both sad and humourous.&lt;br /&gt;I don't know who's responsible for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sure you can trust our government, just ask any Indian."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-8976346326796915448?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/8976346326796915448/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=8976346326796915448&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8976346326796915448'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8976346326796915448'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/08/flea-market.html' title='Flea Market'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-6684284609992186798</id><published>2007-08-23T07:55:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-23T08:01:36.239-06:00</updated><title type='text'>More Pineapples</title><content type='html'>Mom forgot to check the plants behind Dad's shed. One more pineapple.&lt;br /&gt;Dad is diabetic so he can't eat much of the pineapple. Mom's doing a good job by herself I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She seemed to enjoy it so much that I thought I would try it again. No thanks! I don't think dogs are supposed to eat pineapple. I hope it's low calorie pineapple. Mom is trying to diet a little. Like maybe 10 lbs. Sounds easy but she cheats a lot.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-6684284609992186798?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/6684284609992186798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=6684284609992186798&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/6684284609992186798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/6684284609992186798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/08/more-pineapples.html' title='More Pineapples'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-3550851346116399719</id><published>2007-08-22T16:22:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-22T16:34:11.445-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Pineapple</title><content type='html'>Mom got her first pineapple of the year today. She had decided not to check on them every day but leave them alone for a week. Today she checked and there snuggled in the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;spiky&lt;/span&gt; leaves of a pineapple plant was an almost completely yellow fruit staring back at her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skeeter and I are not crazy about any fruit but I have to admit it was sweet, juicy, and still warm from the sun. Mom has five more that are in various stages of ripeness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now she will have five more tops to plant and each plant will have new shoots. Maybe next year we will have to start selling them. I think we need a bigger yard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom is off work for ten days. Yeah! She is getting skeeter and me groomed tomorrow. I don't like that much but perhaps it will be cooler with my beautiful curls cut off. sniff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Today's&lt;/span&gt; quote fits Mom and me perfectly. It is from Shelly Winters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have bursts of being a lady, but it doesn't last long."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-3550851346116399719?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/3550851346116399719/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=3550851346116399719&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/3550851346116399719'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/3550851346116399719'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/08/pineapple.html' title='Pineapple'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-8928980098277209907</id><published>2007-08-18T09:07:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-18T09:16:33.324-06:00</updated><title type='text'>OUCH!   Fire Ants</title><content type='html'>My human sister called the other day. She went on vacation and the airline lost her luggage. When they found it, they delivered it at 4 AM. This morning she called and she has caught a bad cold. No way to start a vacation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom got out early before it got too hot and pulled some weeds. She got into some fire ants and decided to quit for today. She pulled a big trash bag full. Now she is just scratching her ant bites.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She decided to work inside and is in the process of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;straightening&lt;/span&gt; out the worst closet in the house. She pulled everything out and now the closet looks pretty good but the spare room is a mess. Skeeter and I will go take a nap. I think it's not a good idea to get in her way today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skeeter brought her a toy but she didn't want to play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another quote by Maya Angelou&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You can learn a lot about a person by the way he/she handles these three things: A rainy day, lost luggage, and tangled Christmas tree lights."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-8928980098277209907?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/8928980098277209907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=8928980098277209907&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8928980098277209907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8928980098277209907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/08/ouch-fire-ants.html' title='OUCH!   Fire Ants'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-1741365456886433656</id><published>2007-08-16T07:17:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-16T07:27:00.929-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Puppies</title><content type='html'>One of Mom's friends has a King Charles Spaniel. If you are not familiar with the breed, they look similar to a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Cocker&lt;/span&gt; Spaniel only smaller. Anyway, her dog had four puppies on July 30&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;. Their pictures are not on their web site yet but the announcement is. There is a picture of a different puppy and pictures of dogs that have been adopted. The dog that had the puppies has a long name but they just call her "Miss Scarlet". Her picture is on their web site. If you want to see some cute dogs, other than myself or Skeeter, check out &lt;a href="http://www.highhopesspaniels.com/"&gt;WWW.highhopesspaniels.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom is working the next four days so she isn't going to have much time to play with us except at night. We always get our walks anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skeeter is already taking his morning nap so I best go join him so he won't get lonely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is another by Maya Angelou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've learned that even when I have pains, I don't have to be one."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-1741365456886433656?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/1741365456886433656/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=1741365456886433656&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/1741365456886433656'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/1741365456886433656'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/08/puppies.html' title='Puppies'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-941343231624955305</id><published>2007-08-13T07:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-13T08:03:15.554-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Up At 3 AM</title><content type='html'>Skeeter got sick last night. He threw up on Mom's new blanket and on the wall to wall carpet. She didn't yell or anything. Of course at 3AM you can't expect too much reaction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She took Skeeter outside until he was done and then she washed his face and , now get this, then she rocked him for 1/2 hour until he fell asleep. THEN she cleaned up the mess as best she could. This morning we are washing blankets and shampooing rugs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom figured as long as the shampooer is out she might as well do all the rugs. At least she is going to do the traffic areas.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning Skeeter seems to be fine. We went for our 5:30 AM walk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night on our walk one of the neighbor's dogs tried to get us. He has done this three times before but Mom always picks us up and stamps her feet at the dog and yells go home. He doesn't like the flashlight she shines in his face either. Dad bought her a "zapper". It won't kill or hurt the dog but gives him a shock. All Mom did last night was discharge it into the air. It makes a lot of noise. That big sissy turned around and ran back into his yard. Yeah!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My quote for today is more advice than a quote. It is by my Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't have a baby or get a pet unless you don't mind getting up at 2 or 3 in the morning to give comfort or clean up a mess."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-941343231624955305?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/941343231624955305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=941343231624955305&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/941343231624955305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/941343231624955305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/08/up-at-3-am.html' title='Up At 3 AM'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-1869773624535371777</id><published>2007-08-12T11:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-12T11:24:33.593-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thunder &amp; Lightening</title><content type='html'>I don't mind admitting that thunder &amp; lightening frightens me.Usually I tolerate only so much kissing &amp;amp; hugging stuff. Skeeters loves all that mush. Anyway, I will sit on almost &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;anybody's&lt;/span&gt; lap and they can put their arms around me during a storm. Last night we had a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;doozy&lt;/span&gt;. (Is that a real word?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It lasted a good half hour. After that I still wasn't my calm cool collected self so I slept in the closet until I was sure the storm was over.&lt;br /&gt;Today I will stick close to Mom and Dad as I heard the weatherman say scattered thunderstorms this afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;by Maya&lt;/span&gt; Angelou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Regardless of your relationship with your parents, you'll miss them when they're gone from your life."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-1869773624535371777?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/1869773624535371777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=1869773624535371777&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/1869773624535371777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/1869773624535371777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/08/thunder-lightening.html' title='Thunder &amp; Lightening'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-107850204010005217</id><published>2007-08-08T07:47:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-09T14:17:05.661-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hello Again</title><content type='html'>Mom and I have not been on the computer for several days. She has had one dentist and two Dr. Appointments this week. She is fine it's just that everything happens at once plus she is back to work after a sort of vacation. She didn't go away but tried to get a lot of things done at home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She had a fit when she discovered both Skeeter and I had dirty ears. Both of us have "floppy" ears and they need to be cleaned regularly. We both have those "weepy" eyes too so those get washed every day. I hesitate to mention she is also one of those "people" that brush their dogs teeth. She bought some chicken flavored dog toothpaste. Now, I personally, am quite fond of chicken but this stuff &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;pfft&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, all is well and Mom has her writers club tomorrow. They are still looking for a permanent place to hold their meetings. Too bad we live so far from most everyone else. Skeeter and I love company.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My quote for today came out of Dear Abby's column today. It was part of a letter from Carol in Potsdam, NY. She did not say where she heard or read it but I think it's one of the best ones I have found to date. It can apply to many situations.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I wondered why 'somebody' didn't do something. Then I realized I was somebody."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-107850204010005217?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/107850204010005217/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=107850204010005217&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/107850204010005217'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/107850204010005217'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/08/hello-again.html' title='Hello Again'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-3189985288130407290</id><published>2007-08-05T14:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-05T14:19:35.844-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fix the Fence</title><content type='html'>Yesterday Mom called the people that live behind us. Somehow one of the slats in the fence was broken. Dad wanted to put in a new one but he had to get on the other side of the fence and they have a German Shepard,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The neighbor came out and did the nailing from his side. The broken slat left enough room for Skeeter to stick his head in the hole and like I said they have a German Shepard. She usually is friendly enough but we didn't want to take the chance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom is still waiting for the pineapples to ripen. It was March when they flowered. They have gotten real big. Mom Fertilized them with citrus fertilizer whenever she did the grapefruit tree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's almost time to start thinking about a few vegetables in the garden. I saw some starter plants in Home Depot but it has been too hot. Hopefully we can plant in September.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom has a good spot behind the shed. It's wasted space so it will be turned into a garden. Small but last time we planted the birds got more than we did. This time she will cover them when things start to ripen. Especially the tomatoes.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-3189985288130407290?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/3189985288130407290/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=3189985288130407290&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/3189985288130407290'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/3189985288130407290'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/08/fix-fence.html' title='Fix the Fence'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-8569104574864761565</id><published>2007-08-04T07:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-04T07:16:15.619-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Too Hot</title><content type='html'>I'm so glad Skeeter and I get to stay in the house when Mom goes to work. I usually sleep on her bed under the fan.It's too hot out there.&lt;br /&gt;     Yesterday Skeeter got on the bed too and pushed all Mom's &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;decorator&lt;/span&gt; pillows on to the floor. Mom knew I didn't do it because I usually sleep right in the middle of the pillows. I would never push them to the floor.&lt;br /&gt;     She didn't yell or anything, thank goodness. All she did was point her finger at the pillows and look at Skeeter and said, "Did you do that?"&lt;br /&gt;     Skeeter just waged all over.&lt;br /&gt;     We are looking forward to the weekend because Mom and Dad will be home most of the day.&lt;br /&gt;     Mom's writers club is having a problem finding a place to meet. They have a couple &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;of&lt;/span&gt; prospects but no &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;definite&lt;/span&gt; place yet.&lt;br /&gt;   Mom is also looking for a different job.She's not too happy on this one. Maybe she'll win the lottery this week. Then she could stay home forever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is by Albert Schweitzer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" By having Reverence for life, we enter a spiritual relation with the world."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-8569104574864761565?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/8569104574864761565/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=8569104574864761565&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8569104574864761565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8569104574864761565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/08/too-hot.html' title='Too Hot'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-955962987221318904</id><published>2007-08-01T07:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-08-01T07:49:37.119-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Smells Good</title><content type='html'>Mom has to go back to work on Friday. Skeeter and I are spoiled having her home all day. At least we will get in more naps when nobody is home&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today she was going to work outside again but decided she just didn't feel like it. Instead she is making spaghetti sauce, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;zucchini&lt;/span&gt; bread and blueberry muffins. The house is beginning to smell real good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know Skeeter and I are just dogs and not supposed to like people food but have you tasted any dog food lately? Mom bought some Newman's own organic dog food at $1.97 a can. Still tastes like dog food to me. Skeeter liked it but he eats anything in his dish or that falls to the floor.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize I am a fussy eater. I like the dog food Mom makes herself. Chicken, Rice and mixed vegetables. I used to pick out the vegetables but Mom purees them now and cooks the rice and vegetables together and then mixes it with cooked chicken. She thinks I don't know she has vegetables in the food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is trying to diet Skeeter. He is a chubby little thing. He was already too fat when we got him. Mom walks him, and me, for exercise but Skeeter just waddles along. He is a happy little dog and wants to greet everybody we meet. Not me, I make a fuss and people think I'm unfriendly. I'm not. I just think people should be checked out before you let just anybody pet you or pick you up.&lt;br /&gt;I have a hiding place when I'm not sure of things. I usually go there when there is a thunderstorm or fireworks. If anyone breaks into this house I will hide. Skeeter will probably bring them a toy. He's not as streetwise as I am yet.&lt;br /&gt;Time to check the bread.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is by Mary &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Pettibone&lt;/span&gt; Poole.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He who laughs, lasts."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-955962987221318904?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/955962987221318904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=955962987221318904&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/955962987221318904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/955962987221318904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/08/smells-good.html' title='Smells Good'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-1394756552424743618</id><published>2007-07-30T06:23:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-30T06:55:14.387-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Buddy Meets Sassy</title><content type='html'>Mom is almost done with her dog stories. It would take a big book to tell everything about each dog. I don't want you to think that our whole life revolves around dogs, although it pretty much does. Mom's children are grown and the grandchildren live too far away to see them very often. Therefore, Skeeter and I try to make up for it. We keep her busy anyway.&lt;br /&gt;Today her story is about me and how she got me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;were&lt;/span&gt; pretty happy with our dog Buddy. Sometimes we took care of a neighbors dog too. Dusty, the neighbors dog, and Buddy got along just fine. They were used to walking together and visiting each other often. After all, we just lived next door.&lt;br /&gt;One day another neighbor brought home a puppy. It was a six month old &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cocker&lt;/span&gt; Spaniel. They would be it's third owner. These are nice people but should never own a pet, especially a dog. Anyway, they tied her to a small tree in the yard. No Shade, short rope, no way to defend herself and covered with fleas. I was really upset and so was my neighbor, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Dusty's&lt;/span&gt; owner. We approached the other neighbor and told her that the puppy was not an outside dog. We told her she needed to provide shade, shelter etc for the dog or we would report her to the Humane Society.&lt;br /&gt;A couple of days later, she told us she was not going to keep the dog and she was looking for another home for her. I couldn't stand the thought of this puppy being moved around from owner to owner. She already had been three places.&lt;br /&gt;I told her if she was serious, I would take the dog and pay her whatever she had invested in the dog, no questions asked. She gave me a figure. I wrote out a check and took the dog into my home. Her name was Sandy, which quickly got changed to Sassy. She still is feisty so the name Sassy fits he well.&lt;br /&gt;Buddy loved the new puppy. You would have thought we had bought her for him. He would hold her down with his big paw every morning and wash her face, ears and anything else he felt needed attention. She could do anything she wanted to him, pull his tail, jump over him. Anything to get him to play. Once in a while he would let her know he was still the Alpha dog around here.&lt;br /&gt;Buddy got a new lease on life when she came. He became more active and acted more alert even with his health problems. I truly believe she extended his life by a couple of years.&lt;br /&gt;The gentleman next door, Dusty's owner was ill and dying with cancer. He loved little Sassy and called her a doll baby. I took her over to see him almost every day. His face would light up when we came. Sassy would jump up on his lap and give him "&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;Cocker&lt;/span&gt; Kisses". When he became bedridden we still came to visit. Sassy would run down the hall to his room, jump up on the bed and give him kisses.The day before he died she ran down to his room but there was no response from him. His wife put his hand on Sassy and he woke up and smiled.&lt;br /&gt;Sassy and Buddy had several good years together. I guess that's why she missed him so much when he was gone. We all did.&lt;br /&gt;Sassy is now the Alpha dog and Skeeter her best friend. Skeeter came to us from the Pet Rescue people.&lt;br /&gt;I am looking forward to many Sassy and Skeeter adventures in the years to come. Sassy will continue to report on her blog and I will tell some stories from time to time too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My quote for today is from all of us in this household&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We love happy endings."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-1394756552424743618?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/1394756552424743618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=1394756552424743618&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/1394756552424743618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/1394756552424743618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/07/buddy-meets-sassy.html' title='Buddy Meets Sassy'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-5828502747518800285</id><published>2007-07-29T11:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-29T11:42:58.442-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mom Finally Eats Out</title><content type='html'>Mom and Dad finally celebrated Mom's birthday by having dinner out. It was a place they had never been before. A friend told them about it. It's about 50 miles from here. They were going to ride on the motorcycles but it started to rain just before they left. They went by truck instead.&lt;br /&gt;     Mom said it was not a fancy place and quite small. The food however made the trip worthwhile. They are primarily a seafood place and they had everything. They were also very busy. If it had been nice they could have eaten outside. They will go there again. Too far to go real often but Mom brought home a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;doggie&lt;/span&gt; bag and I can't wait until they go back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is by Skeeter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Me Too"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-5828502747518800285?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/5828502747518800285/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=5828502747518800285&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/5828502747518800285'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/5828502747518800285'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/07/mom-finally-eats-out.html' title='Mom Finally Eats Out'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-4576381945493956879</id><published>2007-07-28T07:04:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-28T07:47:54.783-06:00</updated><title type='text'>More About Buddy</title><content type='html'>My Mom had a nice birthday. She got a book, candles, picture frame, flowers candy, cards etc. She didn't go out to dinner because she was too tired after working in the yard all day. She and Dad are going to a new place tonight. Someone told Dad about it. They are supposed to have good fish dinners. Mom loves fish.&lt;br /&gt;Skeeter and I have been really good all week. It has been nice to have Mom home on vacation. She is going back to work next week. :(&lt;br /&gt;Mom is still writing little stories about her dogs. Today she will continue with Buddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After taking care of a neighbors dog we realized how much we missed having a dog. By now we knew what we were in for by getting another dog. We went to several shelters to find one that really needed a home. Of course, they all do. Every time I go to a shelter I want to take them all home, but then sometimes there's that one special one. This time it was Buddy.&lt;br /&gt;His real name was Sparky but the name did not fit him at all. We found out he had been mistreated and the spark was gone out of his life. He was in a cage with another dog that overpowered him. He was lying in a corner, somewhat interested in us but afraid to come to the edge of the cage. We asked if we could take him outside in their play area. He just walked around but showed no interest in anything. We decided if we didn't take him, probably no one would. We decided to take a chance.&lt;br /&gt;The shelter warned us that the person who brought him in advised them that he was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;just&lt;/span&gt; over a year old, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;unhousbroken&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;destructive&lt;/span&gt;, and an outside dog. We put him in our van and the poor thing was so scared he got sick before we got him home. We didn't scold him. We stopped and cleaned up what we could with paper towels, told him it was OK.&lt;br /&gt;We have a nice fenced in yard and that seemed to interest him. We let him walk around at will while we sat in chairs and let him go. He was friendly with me but aloof. That night he couldn't settle down so I took my pillow and a blanket and slept on the floor with him. By morning, we were friends.&lt;br /&gt;It took a long time, almost a year before he fully trusted my husband. He was afraid of shoes. If they were lying between him and food he would starve to death. We gradually learned the things he feared and tried to cater to his feelings.&lt;br /&gt;At one point I went away for a week and he and my husband were left alone together. He learned not to be afraid of the man that fed and walked him. How he loved his walks. We walked almost two miles twice a day, rain or shine, hot or cold.&lt;br /&gt;Contrary to what we had been told about him, he never had an "accident" in the house. never destroyed anything, preferred to be in the house with us most of the time.&lt;br /&gt;Like clockwork everyday he would go outside around noontime and lay in the sun. When that side got too hot, he would roll over until the other side got hot. Eventually we found that he had hip  problems and arthritis. Apparently the sun felt good on his aching bones.&lt;br /&gt;He would go for a ride in the van anytime he could. He usually just lay down in the back and napped but he was with us. That's what mattered.&lt;br /&gt;He was a special dog. All my dogs have been special but Buddy was super special. The whole neighborhood knew him. He wagged his tail in greeting to everyone especially the "cookie lady". The cookie lady is a neighbor that walks but always has a pocket full on dog cookies. Buddy could spot her 1/2 mile away. He would sit down and refuse to move until she caught up with us.&lt;br /&gt;Age began to creep up on Buddy and he couldn't walk as far anymore. We shortened our walks but we always went.&lt;br /&gt;By now he was on medication for his joints and it was helping some. It never changed his good nature no matter how bad he felt. Sometimes when we were walking he would have to lay down and rest awhile. There are so many stories about all my dogs that it would take a book for each one.&lt;br /&gt;More about Buddy next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is by Isak &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Dinesen&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" I think these difficult times have helped me to understand better than before how infinitely rich and beautiful life is in every way and that so many things that one goes around &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;worrying&lt;/span&gt; about are of no importance whatsoever."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-4576381945493956879?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/4576381945493956879/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=4576381945493956879&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/4576381945493956879'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/4576381945493956879'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/07/more-about-buddy.html' title='More About Buddy'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-4427293718504831624</id><published>2007-07-25T16:30:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-26T06:49:36.843-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Mom</title><content type='html'>Tomorrow, Thursday, is Mom's birthday. I promised I wouldn't tell anyone how old she is. She already got some funny cards. My Mom likes funny cards.Dad will take her out to dinner tomorrow night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom is taking care of our neighbors pool while she is away. She took Skeeter and I with her today. She &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;accidentally&lt;/span&gt; dropped something in the pool so she took her shoes off and went in the pool clothes and all. She looked pretty funny because she had on white shorts and top. You could see right &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;thru&lt;/span&gt; them when they got wet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom's dog story today is not about one of her own but it's very important in influencing her to get another dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After loosing two dogs at once, we couldn't even think about another dog. After almost two year, we retired and moved to Florida. My husbands heart doctor thought it would be a good move. It did prove to be a very good move.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met our new neighbors who owned a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Cocker&lt;/span&gt; Spaniel. We got to know then very well. One day they mentioned they were going to put the dog, Dusty, in a kennel while they went away. We offered to take the dog. Dusty was at home at our house and we enjoyed having him. After leaving him with us on several occasions, we got to the point that we missed him after they came home. We decided to just check out the dogs at the shelters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finally found a year old dog, mostly yellow lab, who had been abused. It was love at first sight. I think it was because I'm an old softy and he needed someone who would not mistreat him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first night he could not settle down. I took my pillow and a blanket and laid on the floor with him. He cuddled up to me and never moved all night. We bonded completely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next time more about Buddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another quote from Maya Angelou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've learned that making a living is not the same thing as making a life."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-4427293718504831624?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/4427293718504831624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=4427293718504831624&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/4427293718504831624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/4427293718504831624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/07/happy-birthday-mom.html' title='Happy Birthday Mom'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-9144944269079966423</id><published>2007-07-24T10:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-24T18:15:16.226-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Thor &amp; Heidi</title><content type='html'>Mom worked in the yard today, then it got too hot.Skeeter cried the whole time she was in the front yard. He does that when he can't see her. He likes the backyard work so he can be out there too.Mom would fence in the front yard too, but it's against the rules where we live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night Mom. Skeeter, and I took a walk in the rain. It wasn't raining hard but plenty hard enough to get wet.I heard Mom say once that it was romantic to walk in the rain. I think she's wrong because Dad just stayed in his recliner and watched TV.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confidential to my human Sister. Miss Scarlett is due to have her puppies this weekend. Will keep you posted. They will eventually on the web site.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back to Mom's stories&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You'd think by now I could just say that ... and... and I lived happily ever after. Not so. Thor and Heidi were about 6 and 3 respectively. They had been &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;living&lt;/span&gt; the good life. They had an insulated dog house that my husband had made. They got rides in the car. Weather permitting they got walks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day Thor started limping. In checking it out we found a lump in his paw. Off to the vet who didn't like the looks of it, We left Thor there for a day and the vet removed it. It was cancerous and it appeared that the vet had got it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Heidi began to urinate in the house. Just small puddles as she would be asking to go out. We figured she had a weak bladder perhaps. The wetting got worse and Heidi was so mortified she didn't want to come in the house any more. She would lay outside and lick herself clean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took Heidi to the vet as there was no visible evidence of any problem. The vet pronounced her okay and gave us some medicine. I forgot what it was called but it sometimes worked on people with the same problem. Unfortunately it did not work. We tried to keep her happy by giving her several towels to lay on when she was in the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't remember how much time had passed but one day she seemed to be bothered by being wet and was licking frantically at herself. I thought maybe a warm bath would help her feel better. That's when I discovered a lump partly inside her rectum. We took her to the vet and he took a biopsy. By the time we got the results of the biopsy, the growth had reached the size of a baseball.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While we were wondering what would be our next course of action, Thor's cancer was back. He was in danger of loosing his paw. The vet gave us a dim future for Heidi.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime my husband was having serious heart problems. He had a pacemaker implant in 1989 which kept his heart going. He was having problems doing work in the cold.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Each day brought a dimmer future for both dogs. We talked to the vet and he agreed that it was only a matter of time before each one would be put to sleep. They had become &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;inseparable&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With the vet's input, we decided to put both &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;dogs&lt;/span&gt; to sleep together. We didn't think one would last much longer without the other. We wanted to spare them the agony of pain cancer would bring as well as &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;separation&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A very caring vet put them to sleep together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was almost more than we could bear. We couldn't stay in the house when we &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;weren't&lt;/span&gt; working. Dog dishes and toys were everywhere.We put them away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My quote for today is by my Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't want any more dogs. I can't go through this again."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-9144944269079966423?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/9144944269079966423/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=9144944269079966423&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/9144944269079966423'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/9144944269079966423'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/07/thor-heidi.html' title='Thor &amp; Heidi'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-2047079953313247029</id><published>2007-07-22T14:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-22T14:55:59.028-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Heidi</title><content type='html'>Although today was Sunday, we did not get to nap with Mom and Dad. They took &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;advantage&lt;/span&gt; of the cooler (87) day to get some work done in the yard. Skeeter and I went out too but I personally don't understand the difference between weeds and flowers. Good thing Mom does.&lt;br /&gt;   I don't like getting all dirty and sweaty anyway. Skeeter loves to get in the bushes. When Mom is on her hands and knees pulling weeds he comes right around the bushes to give her a kiss. Sometimes he startles her because he is so hard to see.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     Last time Mom told her sad story about Hans, and how sad Thor was. A friends dog had puppies so the inevitable happened. We adopted a female. We named her Heidi. She was mostly  &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Shepard&lt;/span&gt; although very light in color. We were told her father was a rare albino &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Shepard&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;     Thor loved Heidi from the minute he saw her. He adopted her and took care of her education. Heidi never had an accident in the house. Thor would let us know, even at 3AM that we better let that puppy out.&lt;br /&gt;     Heidi would hold on to Thor's tail just as he had held on to Hans. It wasn't long before we could see that she was going to be bigger than Thor.&lt;br /&gt;     Heidi loved to play and would often get into trouble. She was too big to run and play in the house but that didn't seem to bother her. She buried her toys and cookies under the cushions of the sofa.&lt;br /&gt;     They both loved to walk and were so good and gentle that I always walked both of them at the same time. One day while on their walk, I fell and broke my ankle. No one stopped to see if I needed help. Now wouldn't you think that someone would have noticed a woman sitting on the sidewalk with two big dogs and think maybe she needed help. Nope, not even my husband, who drove right by looking at the other side of the street. I was MAD. I didn't think it was possible to walk on a broken bone but it is. However, after 1/2 mile on it, it was so &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;swollen&lt;/span&gt; I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;couldn't&lt;/span&gt; get my shoe off when I got home.&lt;br /&gt;     Thor didn't like to get wet and Heidi learned to turn on the water spigot in their kennel. I would get home and Thor would be sitting in the corner of the doghouse while the kennel was getting flooded.&lt;br /&gt;     After we fixed that problem Heidi began digging under the porch which was attached to the kennel. We fixed that by putting lattice work all around the bottom of the porch. That lasted a short time before Heidi figured out that the lattice was easy to tear apart and she and Thor could escape by digging under the porch. What fun to run free, except we lived in town on a busy street. How they never got injured is a miracle.&lt;br /&gt;     Heidi became the brains of the two and no matter what we did she managed to find a way out in time. Apparently she became bored and stopped getting out.&lt;br /&gt;      Next time, all is not a bed of roses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My quote for today is by George Eliot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do we live for, if it is not to make life less difficult for each other?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-2047079953313247029?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/2047079953313247029/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=2047079953313247029&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/2047079953313247029'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/2047079953313247029'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/07/heidi.html' title='Heidi'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-4057802792973987208</id><published>2007-07-21T07:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-21T07:53:00.691-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A Sad Story</title><content type='html'>If you read this blog you already know my Mom is writing a little piece on each of the dogs she has owned. Today she is writing a sad story on which I have no comment except that I know my Mom has loved all her dogs and has always spared no expense to keep them happy and healthy.&lt;br /&gt;     I wasn't around when she had small children but from some of the stories I've heard she always did her best for them. Mom has two children, besides me and Skeeter. They are all grown up now. Maybe I can get her to write about them when she is done with her dog stories.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     In my last story about Hans and Thor, I forgot to tell of in incident with Hans before we got Thor. I did mention that he was getting out of his kennel. It was happening more and more. We were at our wits end trying to find out how he was getting out. The kennel had a cement floor. It was fenced in with six foot fencing. There were no holes in the fence.&lt;br /&gt;     One day, when we were both off from work, we decided to put him in the kennel and ignore him. We took turns watching him. When he began to get restless and pace, we knew he was about to make his move. Sure enough he CLIMBED up the fence. He perched himself on the top until he got his balance and then jumped down into the yard. Now if you can just picture a 110 lb dog perched on top of a fence with four paws on one 2 x 4.&lt;br /&gt;He looked like some kind of prehistoric vulture. We replaced the fencing with chain link and that was the end of his adventures. The funny thing was that he was not trying to run away and was often waiting for us on the front porch.&lt;br /&gt;     Hans and Thor got along real well. When he was little, Thor could not keep up with Hans so he used to hang on to Hans tail. They were real buddies and were seldom &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;separated&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;     One Sunday, when Hans was nine years old, he had a stroke. We tried to get hold of our vet to no avail. He did not seem to be in any discomfort but he could not get up or stand alone. For the rest of the day we carried him in and out so he could go to the bathroom. We would take him to the vet first thing in the AM.&lt;br /&gt;     When I told my sister P we were going to put him to sleep the next day, she wanted to come say goodbye to him. When she got there we had him outside on the lawn. He loved to be outside. When he saw her he tried to drag himself to get a ball. She always played ball with him. We all cried.&lt;br /&gt;     The next day we took him to the vet. They asked us to pay up front so we could leave after the deed was done. We did. Our vet was not in that day but his partner was there. We asked him to put the dog to sleep because we did not want to see him suffer any more. He tried three times and either the needle broke, he couldn't find a vein etc. My husband called him an SOB for putting the dog through so much trauma. He picked up the dog and carried him back to the car. We had a station wagon and had put the seat  down. Some of the medicine had been injected so the dog was half dead.&lt;br /&gt;     We finally located an emergency vet by phone. I was hysterical thinking the dog was suffering. They calmed me down and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;explained&lt;/span&gt; that the dog was not suffering. Since some of the medicine had been injected the dog was in no pain. The medicine is actually a strong dose of pain killer.&lt;br /&gt;     When we arrived at the emergency clinic, the staff could not have been kinder. They came out to the car with a stretcher and very gently loaded him on and carried him inside. We talked to the vet for a few minutes and then held the dog in our arms until the medicine did its deed.&lt;br /&gt;     Thor was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;devastated&lt;/span&gt; at the loss of his friend and brother. He would sit in the yard and howl. Now we always thought Thor was part wolf. He had the look and to hear him wail would curdle your blood.&lt;br /&gt;     The only solution was to get Thor a puppy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My quote for today is from Agatha Christie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"But surely for everything you love you have to pay some price."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-4057802792973987208?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/4057802792973987208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=4057802792973987208&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/4057802792973987208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/4057802792973987208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/07/sad-story.html' title='A Sad Story'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-8522685161610951177</id><published>2007-07-20T16:43:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-20T17:17:16.534-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Vacation?</title><content type='html'>Last May when Mom's boss asked everybody to fill out a vacation schedule, Mom signed up for the last two weeks of July. Our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;dogsitter&lt;/span&gt; had to go away and with the price of gas, Mom is going to stay home. She plans to get a lot done but I'll bet she doesn't get everything done.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is playing around with a sort mystery novel. Such complicated stories take time and you can't write &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;unless&lt;/span&gt; you feel like it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom is also trying to get a story to submit for the Writer's Club.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is Saturday and she better finish up by Sunday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today Mom and Dad did some yard work. Hot, Hot, Hot.&lt;br /&gt;Mom's next story about her dogs follow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband and I have just taken in another "Free" dog. We decide to take him to the vet as we were told he had never had his shots. We were also told this dog was well over a year old.We named him Hans.&lt;br /&gt;     The vet was a good vet but spoke with an accent that was hard to understand. I told him the story about getting the dog. "Not year old. Nine months puppy."&lt;br /&gt;     "You mean he will get bigger?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;     "Of course," said the vet. "Look at feet. Nine months puppy.&lt;br /&gt;      He was right of course. Nine months puppy later turned into 110 pound dog. Fortunately he was a gentle dog who loved to play. He had a few games he played by himself. One seemed to be to see how many tennis balls he could get in his mouth a one time. A&lt;br /&gt;     Another &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;game&lt;/span&gt; he liked to play was to put his paw on a tennis ball and sink it in his kiddie pool. When he let go of it, it would pop up to the top and he would grab it in a motion something like diving for apples.&lt;br /&gt;     He had a kiddie pool because he kept tipping over his water bowl and would be without water until we got home. He learned the pool was a good place to cool  off and was often seen lying down in his pool.&lt;br /&gt;     It wasn't long before he found a way to get out of his kennel. We thought someone was letting him out. He would usually be lying on the front porch waiting for us. However, this was not always the case. He got picked up several times for running loose. One day when my mother was taking care of him at my house, a cruiser drove into the yard and there was Hans Sitting up in the back seat enjoying the ride. My poor mother got a warning.&lt;br /&gt;     Another game was to drop a ball in front of the lawnmower. Somewhere, sometime he knew we would stop, pick it up and throw it. He would do this until we were done mowing or locked him up.&lt;br /&gt;     There are &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;lot's&lt;/span&gt; of stories about Hans. We had him for nine years.&lt;br /&gt;     During that time, one of the young men who worked for my husband had to give up their dog.It was a puppy about 6 months old. They had a little girl and a new baby. The dog was not housebroken and was too much for the mother to handle. We took him with the stipulation that if the little girl missed him too much, we would give him back. This offer was good for one month.&lt;br /&gt;     We knew this one would grow and he did until he was as big as Hans&lt;br /&gt;He had already been named Thor. He new his name and we liked it.&lt;br /&gt;     More about Hans &amp; Thor next time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My quote for today is also by Maya Angelou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've learned that no matter what happens, or how bad it seems today. life does go on, and it will be better tomorrow."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-8522685161610951177?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/8522685161610951177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=8522685161610951177&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8522685161610951177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8522685161610951177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/07/vacation.html' title='Vacation?'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-7209942813846425594</id><published>2007-07-18T07:25:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-18T08:14:31.770-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy Birthday Sid</title><content type='html'>Our good friend had a birthday on Monday. Mom made him a carrot cake using &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Splenda&lt;/span&gt;. There are several diabetics in our little circle of friends and buddies. Mom knows there are still &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;carbs&lt;/span&gt; to be counted but using &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Splenda&lt;/span&gt; helps to cut down on the "NO, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;NO's&lt;/span&gt;".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too bad they hadn't invented &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;Splenda&lt;/span&gt; when Mom owned the restaurant,she had several vegetarian choices but no deserts for diabetics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom left off on her stories after selling the restaurant and having to give away their dogs. She and Dad took their sailboat and headed south. That whole experience including the people they met along the way could make a book in itself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several years passed, Mom and Dad were back and had put some money from the sale if the Inn in the bank. There was enough for a down payment on a house and to buy a car. They bought an old house and began to restore it. Out came windows, walls, floors etc. All this mess while they were living in it. I heard Mom tell someone that at one point there were no walls between rooms, not even the bathroom. No peeking!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, on to next story......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had a house with a lot of land for a dog. Off we went to the pound where we got a beautiful German Shepard. We put up a sort of kennel in a shady spot of the yard. This dog dug himself out as fast as we could fill in the holes. One day my husband lugged some big rocks and filled in the holes and put the rest around the bottom of the fence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before my husband walked back into the house that @$%^* dog was out and gone. He pulled out those stones as if they were pebbles. Using his front paws, he just scooped them out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided we were going to have to dig out around the fence and fill it with cement. Since we didn't have a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;chance &lt;/span&gt;before we left for work, we put him in the garage for the day. Plenty of food, water, and a blanket to sleep on. What more could he want? Freedom, which he got when he dove through the garage window.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We fixed the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;kennel&lt;/span&gt; again and for several days he was in it when we got home. My husband put a leash on him to walk him to the house. That dog lit out like his tail was on fire. He was headed for the house. My husband barely touched the ground trying to hold on to that dog. Tomorrow it's your turn said the man of the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much to &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;everyone's surprise he walked like an angel with me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided we had better find another home for him before he scared the neighborhood to death. He was friendly but when he ran toward you at 30MPH with his teeth showing. Most people didn't believe he was just trying to greet them. I wasn't sure myself. We put an ad in the paper. Free to good home. Needs lots of room to run. We found him a nice home. I never have given a dog to another person without checking them out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We did not have him long. Maybe 2-3 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dad and I were living, working, and trying to restore an old house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day may sister, Susan, showed up at my door with a young dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was part black lab and part something quite large. "Do you want another dog she asked. We listened to the sob story of how and why he needed a home and she couldn't take him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was kind of cute in a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;gangly&lt;/span&gt; sort of way. I thought, well he's not a puppy so he wouldn't be getting bigger. Right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next time, the nine month old puppy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My quote for today is by Maya Angelou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I've learned that people &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;will f0r&lt;/span&gt;get what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-7209942813846425594?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/7209942813846425594/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=7209942813846425594&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/7209942813846425594'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/7209942813846425594'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/07/happy-birthday-sid.html' title='Happy Birthday Sid'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-986600109162392628</id><published>2007-07-15T11:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-15T11:57:16.458-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fritz and Buddy #1</title><content type='html'>We just had a noisy thunder shower. I don't want you to think I am a baby but when the thunder and lightening are booming and crashing out there I get in my Mom's lap. I know she can't do anything about it but I feel so much better when she holds me. It's like I really feel she would protect me.&lt;br /&gt;The noise doesn't bother Skeeter but if I get in Mom's lap he wants to get in her lap too. It gets a little crowded. Mom just loves us both.&lt;br /&gt;     Yesterday she began writing about Buddy #1. This story is about Fritz and Buddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;     The time came when we were very tired of working such long hours at the Inn. Along came a gentleman who informed us we had the kind of place he had been &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;looking&lt;/span&gt; for. One thing led to another and we sold it to him for three times what we paid for it.&lt;br /&gt;     We went on a trip to search for a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;sailboat&lt;/span&gt; that we could live on.Gas was hard to get so many people had switched to sailing instead of power boating. It was hard to find what we wanted.&lt;br /&gt;     &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Eventually&lt;/span&gt; we did find a nice sloop. We packed up what we needed plus two large dogs.It didn't take us long to learn that you cannot &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;unhousebreak&lt;/span&gt; a dog. When &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;they&lt;/span&gt; had to relieve themselves they jumped overboard and swam for shore. My husband tried to show them it was OK to pee on the bow of the boat. They just looked at him like he was going to catch it from Me.&lt;br /&gt;     After several days of taking them to shore and/or pulling them out of the water in the dead of night, we decided this would never work.&lt;br /&gt;     We took our dogs to our friend the dog warden. He promised to keep them himself if he could not find suitable homes.&lt;br /&gt;     The good news was that he found excellent homes for both dogs and he kept track of their &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;well being&lt;/span&gt; for a while.&lt;br /&gt;     Fritz went to live with a gentleman who owned a truck and Buddy#1 went to live with a family that had two little girls. They fell in love with Buddy while they were on vacation near our friends cottage. Their father came down to see our friend and begged &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;him&lt;/span&gt; to sell Buddy. Our friend told him Buddy was not for sale but was free to a good home. Two little girls were happy and so was Buddy.&lt;br /&gt;     We missed them both but we were relieved that they both had good homes.&lt;br /&gt;     We were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;dogless&lt;/span&gt; again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is by Gloria Steinem.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The problem for all of us, men and women, is not to learn, but to unlearn."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-986600109162392628?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/986600109162392628/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=986600109162392628&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/986600109162392628'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/986600109162392628'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/07/fritz-and-buddy-1.html' title='Fritz and Buddy #1'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-1590680314104471761</id><published>2007-07-14T16:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-15T11:32:39.025-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Buddy #1</title><content type='html'>Mom is trying to write some more stories but she thinks she has writers block, whatever that is. At least she is still writing about all her dogs. I should feel jealous that she has loved so many dogs but I am also happy because she rescued me too. She will be telling that story in time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today she is writing about Buddy #1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;already&lt;/span&gt; wrote about buying an Inn and how we got a dog named Fritz, Fritz was a she and we never knew much about her background. We did learn that she loved to ride in the truck and she was a good watchdog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend of ours was the dog warden for the town. That meant whenever there was a stray or a problem dog people called him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day he called us and asked if we could take in a stray dog. Without knowing why, we said yes. He arrived with a skinny, mostly golden lab male. He had a rope burn around his neck and he was very frightened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fritz seemed to calm him down. Maybe she could communicate with him and told him he would be safe with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He filled out with some good cooking. After all this was a restaurant. There were always a few scraps as well as dog food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buddy settled in with us and he and Fritz became friends. He never got over his fear of &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;loud&lt;/span&gt; noises or fire. He was even afraid when I lit a cigarette. Yeah, I was stupid and smoked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buddy liked to ride in the truck too. In fact we took a long trip with both dogs. One night all four of us slept in the back of the pickup truck in sleeping bags. We had a thunderstorm during the night and Buddy was terrified of the loud noise. He did his best to get into the sleeping bags&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is by Kate &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Halverson&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you are all wrapped up in yourself, you are overdressed."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-1590680314104471761?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/1590680314104471761/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=1590680314104471761&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/1590680314104471761'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/1590680314104471761'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/07/buddy-1.html' title='Buddy #1'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-4435181116623565958</id><published>2007-07-13T07:03:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-13T07:43:27.340-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Fritz</title><content type='html'>This morning Mom was tired so we all went back to bed for about an hour. We normally get up around 5:30 AM. We went for a walk, ate breakfast and then Mom said "Who wants to take a nap?" There was a stampede to the bedroom and we all, including Dad slept for another hour. Now Mom is up and eating raisins for energy so we better stay out of her way until the "High" wears off.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As promised here is the next installment about Mom's dogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fritz&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After we gave away our little Boston Terrier, Kim, we were without a dog for a couple of years. During that time, we helped some friends who had just bought a small Inn in the Berkshires, in Massachusetts. We had some experience in cooking for restaurants and doing some catering. They had none. We went to their Inn and helped do some heavy cooking. Within a couple of weeks they decided they couldn't handle it. We bought it from them. That's another whole story or two that maybe I'll get into some other time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Inn consisted of a bar, restaurant and rooms. This was kind of a local place so most of our business was repeat customers. The Inn was on the main street at the foot of a mountain. A developer bought the land on the mountain and proceeded to build expensive second homes. Many of the workers came to our place for meals.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the men came to our place almost every day. He frequented the bar often. His dog would follow him and we started letting the dog into the bar. She would lie in the corner and just watch everyone. Her master would have too much to drink and leave without the dog. She didn't mind. When the bar closed for the night my husband would take the dog home in our truck. We had heard that the dog's owner mistreated her when he was drinking but we never saw it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He did not know the background of the dog only that he got her at a shelter. She was a mix breed with plenty of German Shepard in her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One day he and the dog came into the bar. He had already had a few too many. He accused us of trying to steal his dog. He said she would rather be with us and with him so he gave us the dog. My husband immediately bought her a new collar and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;license&lt;/span&gt;. She sensed that this was her new home and never went back up the mountain to see him. She was friendly to all who came into the Inn. For health reasons, we had to insist that she not be allowed in the dining room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One family that came in every weekend had four children. They would coax Fritz into the dining room and hide her under the table. There they would slip her bits of food so she was very quiet. There were also a few other customers that did the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No matter how friendly she was when the Inn was open, the minute we locked the front door for the night she took it upon herself to become our night watchman. One step onto the large front porch by friend or foe would put her snarling at the glass front door. No one in their right mind would have tried to enter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She usually occupied the corner next to the piano in the bar. If my husband went to bed early and I kept the bar open, she would move to the opening behind the bar. There she would lay until the last customer left and I locked the front door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of her favorite things was to go for a ride in the truck. We had to take our own trash to the dump so first thing every morning Fritz and Dad made the dump run. Dad had a plow for the truck and when it snowed he plowed our parking lot and several others for friends with Fritz sitting up on the passenger seat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Y'all&lt;/span&gt; remember snow don't ya. I remember it but have no desire to see it again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't long before we got another dog, our first "Buddy." That will be my next story&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is by George Eliot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Animals are such agreeable friends-&lt;br /&gt;they ask no questions,&lt;br /&gt;they pass no criticisms."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-4435181116623565958?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/4435181116623565958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=4435181116623565958&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/4435181116623565958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/4435181116623565958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/07/fritz.html' title='Fritz'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-6890539558868159147</id><published>2007-07-11T09:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-11T10:09:24.627-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Success</title><content type='html'>Mom and Sister D got my e-mail working. It wasn't as simple as it seemed but I finally got my first e-mail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom is off work until Friday but she is busy trying to catch up on the things she has wanted to get done. First came the venetian blinds in the guest room. Skeeter had jumped into the chair, then on the back of the chair, then on a small end table, sending one of Mom's favorite antique vases to the floor unbroken thank goodness. When he got on the end table he stuck his head and two front paws through the slats, breaking several of course. When Mom walked up the driveway he was just hanging there looking out the window. Fortunately the blind had never been shortened, too lazy, so there were enough slats to replace the broken ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;re potted&lt;/span&gt; a Ficus tree that has grown too big to get in the house anymore. She put it into a huge pot and will move it into the garage if a freeze or frost is expected. Guess that won't be for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She frets over her plants almost as much as she does us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next blog will be about the next dog in Mom's life, Fritz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is by Emily &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Dickenson&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hope is the thing with feathers&lt;br /&gt;That perches in the soul.&lt;br /&gt;And sings the tune&lt;br /&gt;Without the words.&lt;br /&gt;And never stops at all."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-6890539558868159147?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/6890539558868159147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=6890539558868159147&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/6890539558868159147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/6890539558868159147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/07/success.html' title='Success'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-1070928862276011714</id><published>2007-07-08T12:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-09T06:25:32.878-06:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I'm sorry to say, my human sister returned to her home in Chicago Sunday. Mom and Dad took her to the airport at 6:00 AM. Skeeter and I went back to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We miss her already. We kept her busy trying to give each of us equal attention. There were a few jealous moments, especially on my part. Yesterday I snapped at Skeeter and gave him a little bite. My dad let me know immediately that I am not the Big Dog in this pack. He is. My feelings were hurt but I am feeling better today. Mom took a nap with both of us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will be getting back to the stories my Mom was telling about all the dogs she has owned and loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Monday, Mom is working so it will be a long day for Skeeter and me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is by Henry Van Dyke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Time is&lt;br /&gt;Too slow for those who wait,&lt;br /&gt;Too swift for those who fear,&lt;br /&gt;Too long for those who grieve&lt;br /&gt;Too short for those who rejoice,&lt;br /&gt;But for those who love,&lt;br /&gt;Time is not."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-1070928862276011714?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/1070928862276011714/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=1070928862276011714&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/1070928862276011714'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/1070928862276011714'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/07/im-sorry-to-say-my-human-sister.html' title=''/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-1278357344123795468</id><published>2007-07-04T12:30:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-04T12:40:29.833-06:00</updated><title type='text'>BOOM</title><content type='html'>&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Today&lt;/span&gt; is the 4&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; of July. I expect there will be lots of booms no matter where you live. I will be hiding in the closet. Skeeter will probably come with me. He's not afraid of noises as much as I am but I'm teaching him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Mom and Human sister went swimming in the neighbors pool this morning. I went to the edge but I know better than to let my Mom put me in that water. She put Skeeter in a couple of times. I don't think he was crazy about it but he didn't panic like I did the first time I went in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sister D will be here until Sunday. We will miss her. In the meantime we get lots of hugs and kisses from her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom, Dad and Sister will probably go see the fireworks if it doesn't rain. I mentioned once before the weird logic of humans. They immersed their whole body in water to swim yet they don't want to get wet watching fireworks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is by Roger Carras.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Dogs have given us absolute all. We are the center of their universe. We are the focus of their love and faith and trust. They serve us in return for scraps. It is without a doubt the best deal man has ever made."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-1278357344123795468?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/1278357344123795468/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=1278357344123795468&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/1278357344123795468'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/1278357344123795468'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/07/boom.html' title='BOOM'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-2980533379456731780</id><published>2007-07-01T06:31:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-07-01T06:39:46.439-06:00</updated><title type='text'>She's Here</title><content type='html'>My human sister got here on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Thursday&lt;/span&gt; night. Her plane was held up in Chicago because of bad &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;thunderstorms&lt;/span&gt;. She finally got here an hour later than originally scheduled. Not too bad!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She finally got to meet Skeeter. Skeeter loves her as much as I do. Every time she pets Skeeter I just &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;squeeze&lt;/span&gt; myself in there too. Good thing there are only two dogs in this house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom had to work a couple of days so we got to spend some time with D.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;D. went swimming in the neighbors pool and got sunburned. She will have to wear a t-shirt if she goes in today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is Sunday. Mom is always home on Sunday. This morning she made sausage and blueberry pancakes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Today's quote is by Margaret Abigail Walker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Love stretches your heart and makes you big inside"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-2980533379456731780?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/2980533379456731780/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=2980533379456731780&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/2980533379456731780'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/2980533379456731780'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/07/shes-here.html' title='She&apos;s Here'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-6407191313535587115</id><published>2007-06-27T13:34:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T13:44:36.876-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Close Shave</title><content type='html'>You'll never guess what Mom did to Skeeter and me yesterday. She took both of us to the groomer where we were bathed AGAIN and got haircuts. If you are reading this then you know from my picture that I have naturally curly hair. I am very proud of my hair. However, that groomer took those clippers and my curls are gone. I feel totally naked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then she sprayed us with some perfume or something. I didn't think we needed that at all. I took it as an insult to my usual casual doggy smell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this was done because my human sister is coming to visit today. I hope she appreciates what Skeeter and I have been through for her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My quote for today is from my Dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"They smell like a @#$%&amp;* Cat House"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have never been in a cat's house but I can tell you no cat I ever met smelled anything like this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-6407191313535587115?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/6407191313535587115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=6407191313535587115&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/6407191313535587115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/6407191313535587115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/06/close-shave.html' title='Close Shave'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-6569001417807750418</id><published>2007-06-24T10:46:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-24T10:57:04.253-06:00</updated><title type='text'>And Then There Was Kim</title><content type='html'>Today, Sunday is a great day. Everybody is home. We usually get to take a nap with Dad and Mom. Best of all Mom made pancakes. Now I know pancakes are not in the "Healthy Dog" recipe book but honestly don't you just love light fluffy pancakes? Skeeter and I love them. We don't even use syrup, Maybe a touch of sausage or bacon grease. Today we had bacon. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;YUMMMM&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom wrote another installment on her dogs. There are lots of funny and sad stories to tell over the year but she is sticking to the basics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Then There Was Kim&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all missed our &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Cocker&lt;/span&gt; Spaniel, Sandy. Our home had a hole in it. I had always loved Boston Terriers, probably because my first dog was a Boston Terrier. Fortunately, my husband liked them too. The children &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t really care. The idea of a puppy was good enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got Kim from a home breeder. He was the runt of the liter and it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wasn&lt;/span&gt;’t until later that we discovered he had stomach problems. It was too late. We were in love with him. He &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;couldn&lt;/span&gt;’t tolerate dog food. Human food was another story. He ate everything unless it was round like peas, grapes etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was a good little dog. He was the only dog I ever knew that could tear up and have a big tear roll down his cheek. He seemed to do this at will, after he had been scolded, which &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;wasn&lt;/span&gt;’t often or when he was looking for extra attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We also found out that he could not swim. He really could not swim. He would freeze up when he got in water and quickly sink to the bottom. At one point we tried to get him used to water by putting him into the bathtub. He could not swim even one little dog paddle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The children were teenagers by now. My marriage failed and I came out the lucky one.I got both children and the dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I remarried in 1969 and before long my daughter went to Chicago to college and my son moved away. Kim was alone all day. He was so lonely. We felt sorry for him but did not want to see him anyplace he would be unhappy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A co-worker of my husband had two small boys and they were thinking of getting a small dog. Since this would be their first dog, they did not want a puppy. We took Kim to their house and the two boys loved him. We told them if it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t work out, we would take the dog back. The grandmother lived with them so someone was home all day. Kim spent his later years with lots of love and attention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When Kim died, they got another Boston Terrier.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;dogless&lt;/span&gt; again and decided we should stay that way because there were no children at home, we worked all day and a dog would be lonely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is from Louis Sabin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" No matter how little money and how few possessions you own, having a dog makes you rich."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-6569001417807750418?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/6569001417807750418/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=6569001417807750418&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/6569001417807750418'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/6569001417807750418'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/06/and-then-there-was-kim.html' title='And Then There Was Kim'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-1118529754167006355</id><published>2007-06-22T16:47:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T16:53:00.398-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Sandy</title><content type='html'>We are still working on e-mail and adding links. Mom has been working long hours this week because of people on vacation. She did, however, write the next installment about her dogs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My human sister will be here next Wednesday, I can't wait. If your reading this D, I love you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We made our move to the city to be closer to services as needed. We had found a home for our dog, Cookie. We had one child and I was expecting another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We lived in a second floor tenement. The landlord was not happy we had any children and it would be several months before she would know I was expecting another. By the time our lease was due for renewal, my son had been born. The landlord had no complaints about us as tenants but did not want to renew to a family with two children&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We found another place to live and on the first floor to boot. They &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t mind that we had children but it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;wasn&lt;/span&gt;’t long before they started to complain about toys on the front and only porch. We desperately wanted to save up a down payment for a place of our own.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That problem was solved when my husband brought home a stray dog. We were told to move or get rid of the dog. My husband said we would move. The problem was where.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We searched the ads every day. I began looking at homes to buy thinking maybe we could borrow the down payment. We were getting desperate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One morning, there it was. House for sale. No down payment. Owner financing. Did we dare even think about it? We took the plunge. The owner was anxious to move and we looked pretty desperate to them. The deal was made. We moved in, two kids and a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Cocker&lt;/span&gt; Spaniel named Sandy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We knew nothing about the dog. The vet examined her and guessed her to be 3 or four years old. She was a bit snappy with strangers, especially heavy- set men, including my father and grandfather. However, she loved the babies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She got over her snappiness and we took her everywhere. We &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;couldn&lt;/span&gt;’t afford to put her in a kennel so she went on vacations with us. We did a lot of camping. She never wandered off, loved to ride and would share a sleeping bag with anyone who would let her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As the years went by we realized she no longer came running when we got out the car keys. The vet confirmed that she was deaf. She also had glaucoma and finally went almost completely blind. She had a bad heart and was on heart medication for several years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When she developed a tumor, the vet said her heart was so bad she would not survive the operation. This was the first time I was faced with making a decision to put an animal to sleep. I did so reluctantly, knowing it was the best thing I could do for her. She had been a member of the family for as long as the children could remember. We estimated her age to be about sixteen years of age. I cried all the way home. How would I tell the children?  They were sad but they were old enough to understand I had no choice. We were dog less again but not for long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is by Kablil Gibran about saying good=bye.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" Love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-1118529754167006355?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/1118529754167006355/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=1118529754167006355&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/1118529754167006355'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/1118529754167006355'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/06/sandy.html' title='Sandy'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-8948681002410136527</id><published>2007-06-21T16:57:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-22T16:46:55.570-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Cookie</title><content type='html'>The writer's club my Mom belongs to, now has their own blog. I will add it to my links if I can figure out how. We still don't have my e-mail fixed yet. We have had an on line chat with tech support but we're still doing something wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following is another installment about the dogs my Mom has owned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some years after Fiji a cat, Smokey” joined the family. He just appeared as cats do and stayed for several years before leaving as suddenly as he came. I would like to think he had joined another family but I was old enough now to know there could be an alternative ending of his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By now I was in my teens and more interested in boys than dogs or cats.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I married and moved to my own rented home, I wanted a dog. We went to an animal pound and picked up a mostly Shepard puppy. This was my first experience with the responsibility of owning a pet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t realize until then that Puppies can make lots of puddles. It was a challenge to housebreak her. She also wanted to eat everything we ate. Usually we gave in and gave her lots of table scraps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Cookie” was only 6-8 weeks old when we got her. We were living year round in a summer cottage. Rents were hard to find and/or afford. We made a deal with the owner of the cottage for $10.00 a week. We had been living with my In-Laws for about 10 months when I found out I was pregnant. I wanted my own place no matter how small or how few amenities it had.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had no running water but we had a hand pump in the kitchen. We had to keep a jug of water on hand at all times because this pump would loose its prime resulting in no water. The place was not insulated and the only thing that kept us from freezing to death that first winter was a big old wood stove in the kitchen. That was also the cooking stove. It was impossible to control the heat so I either undercooked or overcooked a lot of my first meals. I knew how to cook. I had been cooking at my grandmothers for several years but on a gas range, heaven compared to this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The cottage was located on a peninsular of a good sized lake. We were the last house where someone lived year round. The plow in the winter ended their snow clearing just passed our car. Being a dirt road added to some interesting moments when the spring thaw came. I was no longer working and had only the dog to keep me company. No Phones out that far either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Cookie” loved the water and would walk out on the ice until she came to an opening where she promptly went swimming. She would come back with icicles dangling from her fur. Her bed was beside the stove so it &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t take long before she “melted” and I could dry her off. She was a “fixed” female that I had been assured would not wander. Nobody told her so she became well known in the area. That is until the baby came.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the baby came she hardly left my side. She was not jealous, just interested. She always wanted to sniff the baby so I would unwrap the baby’s feet and let the dog check her out. In the spring, Cookie did not wander off but stayed by the crib, carriage or playpen. She was absolutely in love with this baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the baby began to crawl around a bit, Cookie was right there to make sure nothing happened to her. My daughter took her first steps with tiny fingers entwined in the dog's heavy coat of fur.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the baby was first born my husband installed an electric pump so we had running water in the kitchen. We had a toilet that was flushed with a bucket of water kept in the bathroom for that purpose. No bath or shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My husband bought an old wringer washer and I heated water on the wood stove in every pot and pan I owned to do the washing. Clothes were hung outside to dry except in the winter when they were dried on a fold out clothes rack. Towels, sheets, diapers, and everything else we owned was stiff and scratchy unless ironed. I ironed everything in the attempt to make them softer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My first child came with serious health problems so when I found out I was pregnant again, we decided we needed to move closer to the city. We knew “Cookie” would not survive there nor would she be welcome by any landlord. Apartments were still hard to find, especially with a child and another on the way. We found a home for “Cookie”. We missed her but knew she would be better off on a farm than in the city.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Todays quote is by the late Charles Schultz, creator of Snoopy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Happiness is a warm puppy."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-8948681002410136527?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/8948681002410136527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=8948681002410136527&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8948681002410136527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8948681002410136527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/06/cookie.html' title='Cookie'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-1574985681460889472</id><published>2007-06-20T16:50:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T17:08:38.334-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Just walking in the rain</title><content type='html'>Mom, Dad, Skeeter, and I went walking in the rain last night. It wasn't raining hard, just enough to get wet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now will someone explain to me what's so romantic about walking in the rain? I must have missed something. We all got our hair wet. Skeeter and I had to have our paws wiped and wiped before we were allowed to enter the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a little excitement around 10:00 PM.&lt;br /&gt;Mom always takes Skeeter and I out into the yard to go pee before we go to bed. It's really a waste of time. We can go out any time we want or need to. We have doggy doors. Well, anyway in the yard was an armadillo. I almost had him but Mom kept trying to call me back. She was afraid the armadillo would bite me and give me rabies or something. Now that would be something to write about. That little fellow ran for his hole under the fence. I didn't catch him but I think I got a little taste. I will be watching for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skeeter is no help in these matters. He is my back up, way back. He sits by the back door and growls. Maybe he thinks he can scare the armadillo to death.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have had a little rain the past few days. No where near enough, but every drop helps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Mom has her next "Installment" about dogs done but I have rambled on enough for today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to go out and check the armadillo hole  before it gets dark.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My quote for today is by Sydney Smith.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"When you rise in the morning, form a resolution to make the day a happy one for a fellow creature."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come here little armadillo, let me make you happy, not.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-1574985681460889472?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/1574985681460889472/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=1574985681460889472&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/1574985681460889472'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/1574985681460889472'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/06/just-walking-in-rain.html' title='Just walking in the rain'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-8268255901293085876</id><published>2007-06-19T08:02:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T03:24:18.491-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Peggy &amp; Fiji</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PELy3gIT1sc/RnfiksQs8nI/AAAAAAAAABE/Fhbamk8ej5g/s1600-h/Pineapples.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PELy3gIT1sc/RnfiksQs8nI/AAAAAAAAABE/Fhbamk8ej5g/s320/Pineapples.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am having some trouble with my e-mail. Mom will get it fixed pretty soon. Be patient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can see our pineapples are coming right along. We hope at least one will be ripe before my human sister has to go home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following is the first &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;installment&lt;/span&gt; of the dogs my Mom has owned and loved.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My lifelong love of dogs started as soon as I was able to distinguish that a dog was not a toy, not a thing, not exactly human but an integral member of a family.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peggy, a Boston Terrier belonged to my grandparents. However, as far as Peggy and I were concerned, she was my dog. As a toddler, she was just the right size. As I got a little bigger, Peggy became the object of my obsession with dolls. I treated her like a rag doll,. picking her up at any angle and putting her in my doll carriage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I moved back with my mother’s parents, who had no pets. During the time I was with them Peggy died. I’m glad I was too young to realize the loss of a pet. I only knew that when I went back to my fraternal grandparents, Peggy had been replaced with an English Bulldog named Fiji.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fiji did not have a mean bone in his body. He filled the loss of Peggy with no problem. He was a little larger in a doll carriage but willing to suffer the indignities of being dressed like a baby. He was so gentle, even with the two kittens that had joined the family. I was allowed to name them and thus they became known “Snow White” and “Prince”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fiji had a basket woven bed with soft padding and an open front for ease in getting his bulky body inside. The kittens loved his bed and could usually be found sleeping in it while Fiji slept beside it, patiently waiting his turn.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was allowed to take him out on a leash. We lived on a side street that ended at a dirt road two houses away. There was never any traffic and Fiji had no intention of going anywhere too far from home. He would just waddle along for a short walk. He was not into long walks or exercise of any kind. Perhaps that’s why he liked my doll carriage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this age I was back and forth between grandparents and for some reason did not question the whereabouts of Fiji. Perhaps I thought he was like me, going from time to time to live elsewhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My quote for the day by Mary Kay Ash.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you think you can, you can.And if you think you can't, you're right."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-8268255901293085876?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/8268255901293085876/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=8268255901293085876&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8268255901293085876'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8268255901293085876'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/06/i-am-having-some-trouble-with-my-e-mail.html' title='Peggy &amp; Fiji'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PELy3gIT1sc/RnfiksQs8nI/AAAAAAAAABE/Fhbamk8ej5g/s72-c/Pineapples.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-4715270903911373576</id><published>2007-06-16T07:28:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-16T08:16:31.926-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mom's Dogs</title><content type='html'>Mom has been working &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;again&lt;/span&gt; so we are a little behind on our blogging.&lt;br /&gt;Today is Saturday and unless Mom gets called, she is off until Wednesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went for a long walk the other night (Wednesday I think, doesn't really matter). Anyway, Skeeter got tired and didn't want to walk so Mom had to carry him for a while. Personally, I think she babies him too much. Mom has had a lot of dogs in her life. Usually two at a time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She wrote a silly poem a few years ago when she got my late brother Buddy. I wasn't even born yet. Buddy lived to be thirteen years old and in poor health for the last few. Even having me and Skeeter, I know she still misses him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Buddy&lt;br /&gt;by Mom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a big old dog.&lt;br /&gt;I think he’s cute as he can be&lt;br /&gt;I know he loves me too&lt;br /&gt;Cause he always follows me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He has a shiny coat of fur &lt;br /&gt;It’s soft and sort of red&lt;br /&gt;And he gets so very comfy&lt;br /&gt; When he sleeps upon my bed.&lt;br /&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;He has a purple collar &lt;br /&gt;And a purple leash to match.&lt;br /&gt;When he gets a little itch&lt;br /&gt;He sits right down to scratch&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He can lick himself in places&lt;br /&gt;You &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;wouldn&lt;/span&gt;’t think he could.&lt;br /&gt;If he were a gentleman,&lt;br /&gt;I don’t think that he would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He lays out in the sun each day &lt;br /&gt;Until his fur gets hot&lt;br /&gt;Then he comes inside to nap&lt;br /&gt;In his favorite spot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His very special time of day&lt;br /&gt;Is when we take a walk&lt;br /&gt;But he gets a little restless &lt;br /&gt;When I stop to talk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He’d rather chase a squirrel or two&lt;br /&gt;If I would let him go&lt;br /&gt;But dogs must stay upon their leash&lt;br /&gt;In case you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;didn&lt;/span&gt;’t know.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He likes to go on picnics&lt;br /&gt;Ride inside the van&lt;br /&gt;Go to drive up windows&lt;br /&gt;A burger, thank you ma’am&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His favorite treat is icecream&lt;br /&gt;I know he shouldn't eat it&lt;br /&gt;But I must agree with him&lt;br /&gt;It's pretty hard to beat it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someday he'll break my heart I know&lt;br /&gt;Cause dogs don't live that long.&lt;br /&gt;Even when that sad day comes&lt;br /&gt;For him I will be strong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I'll cry and carry on&lt;br /&gt;I'll shed a lot of tears&lt;br /&gt;I've had a lot of dogs you know&lt;br /&gt;In over sixty years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I will state for all to hear&lt;br /&gt;I con't do this again.&lt;br /&gt;Until I see a puppy&lt;br /&gt;Playing in his pen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope to go to heaven&lt;br /&gt;Up with the stars above&lt;br /&gt;See again my doggy friends&lt;br /&gt;And give them lots of love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tell them how I missed them&lt;br /&gt;Hug them one and all&lt;br /&gt;And we can play forever.&lt;br /&gt;Okay, Who's got the ball?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll name the dogs my Mom has had. There have been others that did not belong to her that were also a part of her life. We'll save that for another day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peggy, a Boston Terrier&lt;br /&gt;Fiji, An English Bull&lt;br /&gt;Cookie, Mostly German Shepard&lt;br /&gt;Sandy, A &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;Cocker&lt;/span&gt; Spaniel (Like me)&lt;br /&gt;Kim, A Boston Terrier&lt;br /&gt;Fritz, A German Shepard&lt;br /&gt;Buddy. Mostly yellow Lab&lt;br /&gt;Fritz (#2) German Shepard&lt;br /&gt;Hans, Mostly Black Lab&lt;br /&gt;Thor, Shepard, Husky and Mom is sure some wolf somewhere&lt;br /&gt;Heidi, German Shepard&lt;br /&gt;Buddy (#2) Yellow Lab &amp;amp; Chow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;Sassygirl&lt;/span&gt; (Me) A beautiful buff Colored &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;Cocker&lt;/span&gt; Spaniel with curly hair&lt;br /&gt;Skeeter, A Black Toy Poodle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will ask my Mom to write a story or something about each one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;today's&lt;/span&gt; quote is by Werner Von &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;Braun&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have learned to use the word impossible with the greatest of caution."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-4715270903911373576?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/4715270903911373576/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=4715270903911373576&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/4715270903911373576'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/4715270903911373576'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/06/moms-dogs.html' title='Mom&apos;s Dogs'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-2712520614702524554</id><published>2007-06-13T14:12:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-13T14:21:32.221-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Good News</title><content type='html'>Mom and I have not blogged for several days. She has been too busy to help me. My paws are too big for the keys so she does all the typing. Of course I tell her what to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has been working and when she has been home she has been working in the garden and going shopping.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a well for our water and last night something happened and we had no water. Repair man came today. $190.00 later we are back in business. We have two wells so we still had drinking water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got some good news this &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;afternoon&lt;/span&gt;. My human sister is coming for about ten days. I can't wait. Skeeter has not met her yet. She lives in Chicago so we don't see her as often as we would like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Writer's club meeting tomorrow night. Mom goes but I have to stay home. Dad gives us treats, kibbles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maybe when my human sister gets here Mom will take our picture with her. She's coming on the 27&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;. That's my Mom and Dads anniversary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds like an excuse for a party to me. Yeah!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-2712520614702524554?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/2712520614702524554/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=2712520614702524554&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/2712520614702524554'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/2712520614702524554'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/06/mom-and-i-have-not-blogged-for-several.html' title='Good News'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-163889000095447668</id><published>2007-06-10T13:14:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T03:24:18.887-05:00</updated><title type='text'>butterflies</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PELy3gIT1sc/RmxN9sQs8mI/AAAAAAAAAA8/TrmwHYBLHuw/s1600-h/100_0033.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PELy3gIT1sc/RmxN9sQs8mI/AAAAAAAAAA8/TrmwHYBLHuw/s320/100_0033.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you look closely, you can see a butterfly almost the same color as the flowers. They love my Mom's garden. She tries to plant things that will attract them. This year they seem to like everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is Sunday and it is very hot and humid outside. Right now there is a dark cloud over the house. I hope we don't get any thunder. It always scares me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Mom read that dogs who get scared even before the storm gets here can feel the electric charge in the air on their fur. If you take a dryer sheet and rub us down with it, it stops the static charge. It seems to work some but I still hear the noise of thunder. I will be happy if she finds a cure for that. Even if the dryer sheet doesn't work on your dog, he will probably smell better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mu quote for today is from James &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Herriot&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I wish people would realize that animals are totally dependent, helpless, like children, a trust that is put upon us." &lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; moz-background-clip: initial; moz-background-origin: initial; moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-163889000095447668?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/163889000095447668/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=163889000095447668&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/163889000095447668'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/163889000095447668'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/06/butterflies.html' title='butterflies'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PELy3gIT1sc/RmxN9sQs8mI/AAAAAAAAAA8/TrmwHYBLHuw/s72-c/100_0033.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-4055639763851878087</id><published>2007-06-09T08:56:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T03:24:19.199-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sunflowers</title><content type='html'>My mom is a Leo. Leo is a sun sign. She likes Sun faces and Sunflowers. After the sunflowers are done blooming, she saves some of the seeds for next year and gives the rest to the birds and squirrels. This year the squirrels are either real hungry or&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PELy3gIT1sc/RmrAO8Qs8kI/AAAAAAAAAAs/7htHP_zNOD0/s1600-h/100_0203.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PELy3gIT1sc/RmrAO8Qs8kI/AAAAAAAAAAs/7htHP_zNOD0/s320/100_0203.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; greedy. They have been eating the sunflowers seeds before we can get to them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom is going to plant more. She also has a butterfly garden. The butterflies have already found it this year. They don't care if Mom is weeding the garden, they sometimes land on her. She has a floral print hat. I guess they think they're real.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom has had such good &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;luck&lt;/span&gt; with the butterflies she wants to get a Humming Bird Feeder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are also anxiously waiting for the pineapples to ripen. We have eleven plants and six of them have pineapples on them. Dad calls it Mom's pineapple plantation. They are really behind Dad's work shop and along the driveway fence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Mom has a birthday coming up next month. As I said she is a Leo. She claims she doesn't feel any older in her mind. It's only the body that sometimes gives her away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My quote for today is by Irene Mayer Selznick but it could very well have come from my Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" I'd like to grow very old as slowly as possible."&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-4055639763851878087?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/4055639763851878087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=4055639763851878087&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/4055639763851878087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/4055639763851878087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/06/sunflowers.html' title='Sunflowers'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_PELy3gIT1sc/RmrAO8Qs8kI/AAAAAAAAAAs/7htHP_zNOD0/s72-c/100_0203.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-4112740474682612987</id><published>2007-06-08T08:06:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T03:24:19.360-05:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>OOPS!  You caught me napping.&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PELy3gIT1sc/RmljLcQs8jI/AAAAAAAAAAk/X-fzcEi2uN0/s1600-h/000_0004.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PELy3gIT1sc/RmljLcQs8jI/AAAAAAAAAAk/X-fzcEi2uN0/s320/000_0004.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; &lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://picasa.google.com/blogger/" target="ext"&gt;&lt;img style="BORDER-RIGHT: 0px; PADDING-RIGHT: 0px; BORDER-TOP: 0px; PADDING-LEFT: 0px; BACKGROUND: 0% 50%; PADDING-BOTTOM: 0px; BORDER-LEFT: 0px; PADDING-TOP: 0px; BORDER-BOTTOM: 0px; moz-background-clip: initial; moz-background-origin: initial; moz-background-inline-policy: initial" alt="Posted by Picasa" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif" align="middle" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-4112740474682612987?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/4112740474682612987/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=4112740474682612987&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/4112740474682612987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/4112740474682612987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/06/blog-post_2264.html' title=''/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_PELy3gIT1sc/RmljLcQs8jI/AAAAAAAAAAk/X-fzcEi2uN0/s72-c/000_0004.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-5882735420436042989</id><published>2007-06-08T07:58:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-08T08:20:20.345-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Tree Climbing Dog</title><content type='html'>I know you won't believe this but my Mom and Skeeter saw it too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of our neighbors has a medium to large dog. He  (the dog) likes to chase squirrels, just like I do. Anyway, the dog was off his leash when a squirrel ran past him and up a tree. The tree was one of those big oaks with lots of heavy branches. You cannot imagine my surprise, the squirrels too I'd bet, when that dog went halfway up the tree after the squirrel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Mom stood there with her mouth open. Skeeter sat down and just looked up into the tree. I of course wanted to get off my @#$%$#@ leash  (we decided yesterday it is OK to cuss because the president does it) and see if I could climb up there too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promise to be more careful with my language in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Friday, is going to be a gardening day. The weeds are growing faster than the flowers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is from my neighbor Ray.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bosco, get down here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He did!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-5882735420436042989?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/5882735420436042989/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=5882735420436042989&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/5882735420436042989'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/5882735420436042989'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/06/tree-climbing-dog.html' title='Tree Climbing Dog'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-7462878600619337815</id><published>2007-06-07T07:24:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-07T07:37:14.922-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Dogs Are Smart</title><content type='html'>Mom had yesterday off so Skeeter and I wore ourselves out following her around. Don't know why she moves from room to room making beds, doing dishes, cleaning bathrooms, and vacuuming with her new (rebuilt) vacuum cleaner. To hear her talk, we track in a lot of sand. Don't know why she would complain about that now that she has a new vac.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She and Dad went visiting last night and left us home alone until 10:30 PM.That's unusual so I guess it's OK. Thank goodness there was no thunderstorms at our house. There were lots of them nearby but we didn't have to hide in the closet. It's the safest place in our house to hide especially if there were a tornado. I hope that never happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My quote for today confirms what I could have told you. Dogs are smarter than they get credit for. The quote is by Phil &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Pastoret&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you think dogs can't count, try putting three dog biscuits in you pocket and then giving Fido only two of them."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-7462878600619337815?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/7462878600619337815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=7462878600619337815&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/7462878600619337815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/7462878600619337815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/06/dogs-are-smart.html' title='Dogs Are Smart'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-1226820647442328276</id><published>2007-06-06T07:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-07T16:51:56.514-06:00</updated><title type='text'>$#@&amp;*%!^**</title><content type='html'>My Mom and I promised each other that our blog would be strictly for fun and not get involved in discussions of politics, money, religion, sex or any other controversial subject HOWEVER&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This mornings paper contained an article about using bad language on TV.A New York appeals court said that, "bad language has become so common that even the President has been heard using expletives."Well then, it must be OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our president and the news media have at times discussed the moral decay of our children, putting the blame on us as parents. Then they turn around and put violence, bad language and sexual situations on the TV at any hour of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These are the very people of power and responsibility that should be setting a moral example for our children. Our children think we are wrong to expect better behavior. After all, everybody else thinks it's OK to use bad language etc. The sex, violence and bad language are in the songs they listen to. I believe in free speech to a degree. It is not critical to use bad language to get your point across.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Regardless of what the court says, it's not OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I have vented on this subject, I want to remind you that I am a dog only five years old. I can't vote so my opinion doesn't mean much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Therefore I want to end with my normal quote. This one is in the form of a poem by Millicent &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Bobleter&lt;/span&gt;. A friend sent it to my mother a little while ago when our beloved Buddy went to heaven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Judgement Day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On judgement Day &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Saint&lt;/span&gt; Peter stands,&lt;br /&gt;A list of virtues in his hands.&lt;br /&gt;As all the souls in silence wait&lt;br /&gt;To see who'll pass through heaven's gate.&lt;br /&gt;"You'll enter first, he says, "if you&lt;br /&gt;can swear your heart was always true.&lt;br /&gt;And you were constant to the end.&lt;br /&gt;A steadfast, loyal, devoted friend.&lt;br /&gt;Never spiteful, never mean,&lt;br /&gt;Unchanging through good times and lean.&lt;br /&gt;With no desire but this: to be&lt;br /&gt;allowed to love eternally."&lt;br /&gt;And this is why St Peter's hand&lt;br /&gt;Throws wide the heavenly portals, and&lt;br /&gt;With wagging tails and shining eyes&lt;br /&gt;The dogs walk into paradise."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-1226820647442328276?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/1226820647442328276/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=1226820647442328276&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/1226820647442328276'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/1226820647442328276'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/06/blog-post.html' title='$#@&amp;*%!^**'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-1920151501112288272</id><published>2007-06-03T12:54:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-03T13:23:53.023-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mom's story</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;How about that rain? Mom and Dad were happy for the grass and flowers and especially for the wildfires. Skeeter and I slept all day and were happy the rain stopped in time for our walk.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Mom got some fresh corn and made her special corn chowder and garlic bread supper. We got a little too but for some reason she keeps giving us dog food supplemented with some chicken or hamburg. It's good but we do appreciate a treat now and then.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Mom wrote this story a while ago but she has been trying to edit it. Maybe you'll enjoy it even if it's not perfect.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;                                                  CHICKY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like all chickens, Chicky was hatched from an egg. Chicky’s mother sat in her nest of hay for many days. She kept the kept her eggs warm so the baby chicks inside could grow and hatch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When all the eggs hatched, the baby chicks looked exactly alike. No one could tell them apart, except their mother. She loved them all and kept them beside her under her wings for protection.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before long they all began to grow. One of them, chicky, began to look a little different than the other baby chicks. The other chicks started to make fun of chicky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They teased him and said,. “Your weird.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chicky was sad. “Do you still love me Mama?” Chicky asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Of course,” she replied. “You are my chick and I will always love you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“But the other chicks tease me because I look different.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“You look fine to me,” said Mama. “Sometimes it’s good to be different.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Chicky was still sad. He wanted to be like the other chicks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As time passed, Chicky spent more and more time alone. He began to look more different every day, so the teasing never stopped. Even some of the adult chickens noticed how different Chicky looked, but they just looked away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the chickens lived together in a shed they called a coop. Each one had her own nest They were looked after by old Mr. Rooster who would sit up on the fence and crow “Cock-A-Doodle-Doo” every morning to wake the chickens and the farmers family. He would also jump up on the fence and crow if there was any danger. That way he would alert the farmer and the farmer would come to the coop to make sure everything was OK.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One evening, when all the hens and their chicks were sleeping, Mr. Fox came sneaking up toward the hen house. He hoped to catch a chicken or two for his dinner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr Rooster's sharp eyes saw the fox hiding behind a bush. Mr. Rooster was very old and had been having trouble jumping up on the fence. When he saw Mr. Fox he tried to jump up on the fence to warn the chickens and the farmer but he could not jump that high. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;He tried to cock-a-doodle-doo but his voice was not that loud. He began to run around. Help! Help! he tried to shout. No one heard him....except Chicky. Chicky was sitting there alone in the yard feeling very sad. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;“What’s wrong Mr. Rooster?” Chicky asked.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;“I can’t get up on the fence and my voice is not loud enough any more. I can’t warn the chickens and the farmer that the fox is coming over the hill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh my,” said Chicky, “What will you do.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;“I can’t do anything said Mr. Rooster. “It’s up to you to warn everyone.” &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;“How can I do that?” said Chicky.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;“ You just jump up on that fence,” said Mr. Rooster. “Puff up your chest and say Cock-a-doodle-doo as loud as you can.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took a couple of tries but Chicky made it to the top of the fence. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;“Good! Good!” said Mr. Rooster. “Now take a deep breath and say Cock-A-Doodle-Doo as loud as you can.”&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Chicky took a deep breath. Then another. All of a sudden he let out the loudest Cock-A-Doodle-Doo ever heard on this farm.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;The chickens began to run around squawking and the farmer came running. He got a big stick and chased the fox away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The chickens and the farmer were very proud of Chicky. Chicky was a hero. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;“Can you ever forgive us for making fun of you?” asked the other chicks. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Chicky was very happy and forgave them for teasing him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Chicky was different. He was a rooster. From that day on no one ever made fun of him again. Chicky was no longer sad but happy and proud that he was different. But, no one was prouder of Chicky than his Mama.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;My quote for today is by Bete Midler.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;"Cherish forever what makes you unique." &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-1920151501112288272?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/1920151501112288272/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=1920151501112288272&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/1920151501112288272'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/1920151501112288272'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/06/how-about-that-rain-mom-and-dad-were.html' title='Mom&apos;s story'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-7305836286189082098</id><published>2007-06-01T07:26:00.001-06:00</published><updated>2007-06-01T07:42:59.597-06:00</updated><title type='text'>No Fleas</title><content type='html'>Mom and I got a nice comment on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Skeeter's&lt;/span&gt; picture. It took us a while to learn how to do it. After  many tries we downloaded a program that is so simple to use. It's called "Picasa". We got our picture on the first try.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skeeter has been scratching a lot so Dad said maybe he has fleas. Mom couldn't find any but he's so black fleas can hide on him. Since I am a natural &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;blonde&lt;/span&gt; fleas can't hide on me so I got checked too. No sign of fleas but Mom said the dreaded four letter word "BATH". So because Skeeter was scratching I had to get a bath too. Does that sound fair to you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, we survived but will probably end up with dry skin from having too many baths.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom is still writing. Her stories are too long for a blog but she said maybe she would try putting one on the blog in sort of chapters. If you like children's stories stay tuned. I will start one tomorrow if she gets it finished. She calls herself a procrastinator. I'm not sure what that means. Maybe it means she would rather play with us or work in the flower garden than do other stuff, like housework.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is fitting I think. It's from Dottie Archibald.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My husband and I have figured out a really good system about housework: neither one of us does it."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-7305836286189082098?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/7305836286189082098/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=7305836286189082098&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/7305836286189082098'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/7305836286189082098'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/06/no-fleas.html' title='No Fleas'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-2090347658877474952</id><published>2007-05-31T08:16:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2008-12-09T03:24:19.778-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Skeeter At Last</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PELy3gIT1sc/Rl7ZY-5rkAI/AAAAAAAAAAU/hbwfwJuE5gQ/s1600-h/100_0196.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_" style="CLEAR: both; FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PELy3gIT1sc/Rl7ZY-5rkAI/AAAAAAAAAAU/hbwfwJuE5gQ/s320/100_0196.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;TA DAH ! Mom and I finally got a picture of Skeeter for you to see. He really is much cuter than his picture.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;Mom has been really busy, She worked a couple of days and yesterday and today she is playing "Catch Up".&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;Our neighbor and friend has gone away, so Mom is taking care of her bills and house and pool etc. Mom goes in the pool but I want nothing to do with water. I know Spaniels usually like the water but I don't see why I need to be like the rest of them. I tolerate a bath occasionally but I am not going in that pool. Mom hasn't tried Skeeter in the pool yet. He wants to be right by her side all the time so I suppose he'll go in the pool whether he really likes it or not.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;Mom needs high speed internet. Everything takes too long on this one.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;We still have lots of things on our agenda for today so best get busy.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;The quote for today is by Mary Little.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;"There is no pleasure in having nothing to do; the fun is in having lots to do and not doing it"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="CLEAR: both; TEXT-ALIGN: left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-2090347658877474952?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/2090347658877474952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=2090347658877474952&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/2090347658877474952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/2090347658877474952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/05/skeeter-at-last.html' title='Skeeter At Last'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_PELy3gIT1sc/Rl7ZY-5rkAI/AAAAAAAAAAU/hbwfwJuE5gQ/s72-c/100_0196.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-6350483093214006169</id><published>2007-05-28T08:18:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-28T08:41:58.290-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Holiday Weekend</title><content type='html'>I have been trying to upload a picture of Skeeter, since I am always talking about him. I managed to get my picture as you know. I must be doing something wrong but will keep trying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, I hope y'all &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;havin&lt;/span&gt; a safe holiday weekend. Mom is trying to diet a little but we have been eating our way through the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I heard her say Monday is the day to start on the diet again.My Mom likes to eat but best of all she likes to cook. We get to sample a little when she does. She makes at least one new recipe a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday she made a spicy shrimp dish served over linguine. I thought it was very tasty but Skeeter didn't like it. Dad liked it. I know Mom liked it because she put it in her tried and true keepers recipe file.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning she made cranberry muffins for Dad and some of his friends. I didn't get to sample any. She makes them a lot anyway. She buys cranberries in season and freezes them right in the bag.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom and Dad owned an Inn in Massachusetts for a while. She did most of the cooking. She still likes to cook and bake but it's not the same unless your cooking for a crowd.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you ever need a recipe for anything, just ask my Mom she probably has one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is from O.A. Battista and refers to one of my favorite things to do. Napping comes first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" A dog is one of the few remaining reasons why some people can be persuaded to go for a walk."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where's my leash?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-6350483093214006169?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/6350483093214006169/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=6350483093214006169&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/6350483093214006169'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/6350483093214006169'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/05/i-have-been-trying-to-upload-picture-of.html' title='Holiday Weekend'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-3170081306967094649</id><published>2007-05-26T17:19:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-27T11:31:06.061-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Problems</title><content type='html'>Confidential to Snoopy Lover, you guessed my real identity. &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Shhh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a good day, Mom was home most of the day. She went grocery shopping. Never takes us with her on that run but she brings home some interesting packages. Sometimes there's a treat for Skeeter and me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My human sister is having some problems with a co-worker. I hope she doesn't quit her job to0 hastily. It is difficult to work under pressure. Maybe she will take a vacation and get away from it for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My quote for today is an old one you have probably heard before but it still has a lot of truth to it. It is from Sally &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Kempton.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It is hard to fight an enemy who has outposts in your head."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also one from Eleanor &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Roosevelt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nobody can make you feel inferior without your consent."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-3170081306967094649?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/3170081306967094649/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=3170081306967094649&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/3170081306967094649'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/3170081306967094649'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/05/problems.html' title='Problems'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-5770419637828043731</id><published>2007-05-25T16:48:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-25T16:56:33.874-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Mexican Petunias</title><content type='html'>Mom is still upset about her truck getting damaged. She had to work Wed., Thurs &amp;amp; Friday this week. Skeeter and I will be glad to have her home for a few days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A writer friend told Mom about all the flowers now illegal in Florida. Unfortunately, we have lots and lots of flowers in our yard. I heard Mom say she had some of the illegal ones, Mexican Petunias for one. We have lots of those. Maybe it's just illegal to buy them anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Psst, hey want some Mexican Petunias?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The quote for today is especially for Mom's writer buddies and of course for anyone who wants to read it. It is by the famous author Tom Clancy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The difference between fiction and reality? Fiction has to make sense."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-5770419637828043731?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/5770419637828043731/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=5770419637828043731&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/5770419637828043731'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/5770419637828043731'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/05/mom-is-still-upset-about-her-truck.html' title='Mexican Petunias'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-8391731315340493228</id><published>2007-05-24T07:11:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-24T07:20:01.769-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Hit and Run</title><content type='html'>Today is Thursday. I don't know why my postings show wrong dates but they do. We'll see what happens today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday my Dad went to the Dr. to see about the blood tests he had done. Everything was great. Do you believe he had a total Cholesterol of 85?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday my Mom got called into work because someone called in sick. She was so mad. Someone hit her truck in the parking lot and did quite a bit of damage. Police couldn't do anything because there was no witness and she didn't even know what time it happened.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's quote is by Anonymous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"There cannot be a crisis today, my schedule is already full."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-8391731315340493228?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/8391731315340493228/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=8391731315340493228&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8391731315340493228'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8391731315340493228'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/05/hit-and-run.html' title='Hit and Run'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-8222433394464028087</id><published>2007-05-21T10:33:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-22T06:45:58.085-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Big Fish</title><content type='html'>Monday we took our usual walk in the early morning. We saw a dead fish in the road. Both Skeeter and I wanted to get a closer look but Mom pulled us away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;However, it reminded me of an incident that happened a few months ago. I told you my Mom likes to write. She mostly writes children's stories but once in a while she writes a poem, usually a silly poem.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She wrote the following about an incident with my first brother, Buddy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;The Bad Boy List&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;A bird went fishing in the lake.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He caught a big one by mistake.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So big he couldn't carry it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He dropped it in our yard, Oh shit!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;It baked there in the sun all day&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;"cause no one saw it or took it away.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Now Buddy thought it smelled &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;devine&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;So he rolled in it 'till his coat did shine.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He got a taste of his owners wrath,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Got dragged inside to get a bath.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;He knew that she was really pissed,&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;When he made the top of "The Bad Boy List."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;I was right she did shampoo the rugs. Believe me, damp rugs do not make a pleasant place to take a nap. I had to retreat to Mom's bed. She tries to keep the spread clean by laying my own &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Blankie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; on top of it. Sometimes I just sleep on the pillows. They are much softer.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Skeeter naps mostly on the floor because he is too little to jump up on the bed.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;My quote for today is from Ann &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Landers&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;"Opportunities are usually disguised as hard work, so most people don't recognize them."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-8222433394464028087?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/8222433394464028087/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=8222433394464028087&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8222433394464028087'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8222433394464028087'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/05/big-fish.html' title='Big Fish'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-2889446437529710524</id><published>2007-05-21T07:01:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T07:28:06.267-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Another day, Another blog</title><content type='html'>Sunday was as restful a day as Skeeter and I had hoped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After Mom and Dad read the paper they had a big Sunday breakfast. We got some scraps and they were very good. I think it was an omelet with peppers, onion, bacon, and cheese.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got our nap in too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom made Mustard Baked Chicken for supper. Sounds strange with all that mustard but it was good. I managed to beg a little piece. If you would like the recipe, I'm sure she won't mind. Its very simple.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Mustard Baked Chicken&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;2 Tbls Dijon Mustard&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;2 Tbls White Wine&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;2 Garlic Cloves Mashed&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;1/2 tsp each basil, oregano. rosemary, thyme&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;1/4 tsp dry mustard&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;In NON aluminum bowl mix all ingredients. Add chicken (boneless breasts or thighs are best) and toss until well coated. Cover 1 hour or overnight&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Bake at 375 for 45minutes to an hour or until desired doneness.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, Monday, is going to be a disturbing day. I heard Mom say she was going to clean the rugs. That means vacuuming and shampooing. Both jobs involve big machines that make lots of noise.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My quote for the day is by Lady Astor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The main dangers in this life are the people who want to change everything.....or nothing."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-2889446437529710524?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/2889446437529710524/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=2889446437529710524&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/2889446437529710524'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/2889446437529710524'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/05/sunday-was-as-restful-day-as-skeeter.html' title='Another day, Another blog'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-9168670077690272769</id><published>2007-05-19T17:09:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-21T06:54:09.921-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Damn Thorns</title><content type='html'>First of all I want to say "HI" to my Mom's friend's aunt who lives in Baltimore. Hi, Auntie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, Saturday turned out to be a rather exciting day. As I hoped, we went to the park but not the dog park. We went to a people park where dogs are tolerated as long as they are kept on a leash and their Mom brings plenty of little plastic bags for anything we might leave behind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There were lots of people there especially kids. I like kids. As usual, as soon as we got out of the car I charged ahead almost strangling myself in the process. I do know better but I get so excited I forget.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I was young, I went to obedience school but I didn't like it much. Sit, stay, heel, down and if you do it right they give you a tiny piece of treat. I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;usually&lt;/span&gt; get bigger treats for doing nothing. Anyway, as soon as you did one thing they wanted you to do another. Sit, heel, turn. I wish somebody would make up their mind. I got so tired and confused that I usually snapped at some other dog invading my space because I was walking too slow. Sometimes I just lay down and watched all the other dogs looking foolish for a tiny treat. I graduated. However, they did not mention the advanced class to Mom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the park and a big drink of cool water, it was time for my nap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was such a nice day Mom decided to work in her garden. I don't know why she decided to cut down a small tree covered with very large thorns. She had a barrel full of the branches and was cutting down the last piece when the barrel fell over and a thorn went into her arm right into a major vein. The blood spurted out like a fountain. She put pressure on it and went inside to have my Dad put a pressure bandage on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom was upset because she had on a new pair of garden gloves and they were covered with blood. Dad washed them out for her. Such a silly thing to be concerned about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is Okay because she made our supper on time and made salad and spaghetti for herself and Dad. I did notice that she had a little more wine than usual. Probably to help replace the blood she lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then after supper we watched a move. You wont believe the title "Must Love Dogs." It was cute but there &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;weren't&lt;/span&gt; too many scenes with dogs in them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow is Sunday. Usually a good day for us. Sometimes Mom and Dad take a nap with us. We just snuggle in and snooze for an hour or so.&lt;br /&gt;Love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quote today is from my Mom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Ouch! Damn tree"&lt;br /&gt;(Not an exact quote)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-9168670077690272769?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/9168670077690272769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/9168670077690272769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/05/damn-thorns.html' title='Damn Thorns'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-8706858469091740996</id><published>2007-05-19T07:38:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-19T08:03:29.383-06:00</updated><title type='text'>Poor Skeeter</title><content type='html'>Hi Again&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, Friday, my Mom had to work. After she left, Skeeter and I napped most of the day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skeeter is still not feeling well. I don't know if it was the excitement of seeing his original Mom, the shot the vet gave him, or the stuff Mom is putting on his rash, He licks it off when no one is looking. It's probably a combination of everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I resent his invading my space but I worry about him when he isn't feeling well. He doesn't seem to be as strong and healthy as I am. He has had his share of health problems, including and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;abscessed&lt;/span&gt; tooth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We dogs &lt;em&gt;usually&lt;/em&gt; live a pretty good life especially when we are adopted by a "dog person." My Mom is &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;definitely&lt;/span&gt; a dog person.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took our walk last night but we didn't walk as far. I think is was because my Mom knew Skeeter wasn't  feeling well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If Skeeter is better tomorrow, we might go for a ride in the truck. Maybe even go to the dog park. It will be our first time there.Mom doesn't go back to work until next Thursday so we'll get to do some things together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My quote for the day is  from Diane &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Arbus&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My favorite thing is to go where I've never been."&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-8706858469091740996?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/8706858469091740996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=8706858469091740996&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8706858469091740996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8706858469091740996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/05/poor-skeeter.html' title='Poor Skeeter'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-2096702223626744406</id><published>2007-05-18T07:20:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-18T16:59:52.672-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Small World'/><title type='text'>It Really Is A Small World</title><content type='html'>As I already stated in my first blog, I have a newly adopted brother named Skeeter. He is a black toy poodle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had a rash on his belly and my Mom, like all moms, called the &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Doctor&lt;/span&gt; and made an appointment for yesterday afternoon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, when we walked into the waiting room there was a lady with two poodles. Her daughter was with her and she had another small dog. My brother. Skeeter, kept trying to get to the lady with the two poodles. She in turn, kept looking at Skeeter. When Mom called him by his name "Skeeter" the ladies daughter said her mother used to have a dog named Skeeter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The lady cannot talk because her voice box has been removed. Mom and I got a funny feeling and asked her how long ago she had to adopt him out. Well to make a long story short, as it turned out she was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;Skeeter's&lt;/span&gt; original mother. One of the dogs was his daughter and the other was his mate. It was very sad that she was unable to keep all of them. Mom let Skeeter go to her and he couldn't give her enough kisses. She was crying and so was everybody else in the waiting room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the end she was very happy to know that he was adopted by a family that loved him too. My Mom got her address and promised to write her once in a while to let her know how Skeeter is doing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love happy endings don't you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My quote for today by Isabelle &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Eberhardt&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"One must never look for happiness: one meets it by the way."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS The rash turned out to be nothing serious. Just an irritation. The vet gave him a shot to stop the itching and some "Stuff" to put on the rash.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-2096702223626744406?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/2096702223626744406/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=2096702223626744406&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/2096702223626744406'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/2096702223626744406'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/05/it-really-is-small-world.html' title='It Really Is A Small World'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-4692541727903064263</id><published>2007-05-17T09:59:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-17T10:43:31.460-06:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='party on.'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='If life is a party'/><title type='text'>If Life Is A Party, Party On..</title><content type='html'>Well. we're doing great. We have made it to day two of our blogging adventure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took a walk last night just before it got dark. Our adopted parents who I shall refer to as Mom and Dad, Skeeter my brother, and me Sassy. We met the "Cookie Lady" right away. She is a good neighbor who carries dog &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;biscuits&lt;/span&gt; in her pocket when she goes for a walk. We always get at least one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Mom is trying to lose some weight and the vet said that Skeeter and I were too fat, so we walk in the morning and in the evening. My Mom got a pedometer and I heard her say that the goal is for at least 10,000 steps a day. Sounds like a lot to me. I usually nap most of the day but I do like our walks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far today we haven't done anything out of the ordinary except wash the truck. My Mom was cursing the "Love Bugs." If nobody loves them, I wonder why they call then "Love Bugs"?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Well, humans do some funny things. For an example my Mom has lots of flowers but she also has a dozen pineapple plants. We have six pineapples coming right now. She put a fence around them so Skeeter would not pee on her pineapples and get them all wet. Then she &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;proceeded&lt;/span&gt; to water them with a hose. Skeeter would have been more than happy to do his part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mom kept saying Skeeter smelled funny. He didn't smell bad but he didn't smell like a dog either. Then she realized that when Skeeter comes out to greet her when she gets home from work, he always comes to a certain spot in the flower garden and sticks his nose through the fence. She finally realized that he was standing in the rosemary bush and picked up the scent from the plant.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never, well almost never, disturb any of Mom's plants. Sometimes a squirrel runs through the garden and I forget myself and chase that squirrel through the flowers and up a tree. I have tried to climb up there but for some reason God did not make &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;Cocker&lt;/span&gt; Spaniels good tree climbers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My Mom likes to read and often she reads something nice to share with a friend. I assume if you are reading my blog, you are a friend or will be one in the future.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will close for the day with a thought or quote I hope you will enjoy. Although I am not a woman in the true sense of the word, you can be sure that I am as completely feminine as any four legged creature can be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This quote my Mom found in a book she likes called "The Quotable Woman." It was given to her several years ago by her favorite nephew.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our thought for the day is a quote from &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;a woman&lt;/span&gt; named Elsa Maxwell.Many years ago she was famous for her parties. A true hostess with the mostest as they say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Someone said that life is a party. You join in after it's started and leave before it's finished."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am always ready to party. Dogs love to party.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-4692541727903064263?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/4692541727903064263/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=4692541727903064263&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/4692541727903064263'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/4692541727903064263'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/05/well.html' title='If Life Is A Party, Party On..'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4516099965502558085.post-8946103524148263618</id><published>2007-05-16T20:00:00.000-06:00</published><updated>2007-05-16T16:51:51.384-06:00</updated><title type='text'>A New Venture</title><content type='html'>I am a five year old buff colored &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Cocker&lt;/span&gt; Spaniel, with papers I might add. I have a younger brother. His name is Skeeter and he is only three years old. He is a very black toy poodle&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Skeeter is new to our household. I had another brother but he was very sick. One day my owner took him to the vet without me and came back alone. I could tell she had been crying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We all missed him so much that we contacted Pet Rescue and adopted Skeeter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously I will be needing help to keep this blog going. My owner, my adopted mother has consented to do the job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She picked the Blog Unwritten because she is an aspiring writer who believes that her best work is still unwritten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blogging is new to both of us so I hope you bear with us while we report our daily adventures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We may be changing our "look" as we learn how to do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talk to you again tomorrow&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4516099965502558085-8946103524148263618?l=sassygirl214.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/feeds/8946103524148263618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4516099965502558085&amp;postID=8946103524148263618&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8946103524148263618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4516099965502558085/posts/default/8946103524148263618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://sassygirl214.blogspot.com/2007/05/new-venture.html' title='A New Venture'/><author><name>Sassygirl</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/14902993982443543919</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
