Puppy Fun.

Enrique Tabara.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Enrique_T%C3%A1bara

It’s been a week full of puppy fun, Tina has been a wonderful addition, Marleen and Cyril are noticeably happier since she got here.

Her coming to live here has rejuvenated both dogs; they are playing much more exuberantly than before she arrived.

The other thing that is wonderful is how well the dogs are getting on, Marleen was good right away, and the two of them slept together on the second night, Cyril got worried but soon bounced back.

Especially when on the third day, Cyril found out that playing in the park with her was great fun, better then before her arrival.

On Thursday, it was just one week, but it feels almost like Tina has been here much longer, so well do the dogs get on, it really is good to see.

We did have three dogs until one, our Daisy died in June 2006, just before my ms diagnosis, which shocked us; then we had other things on our minds than getting a new dog.

When our lovely dog, Spike died last December, we decided to give another dog a new home, Cyril joined us in January, happily Marleen and Cyril got on very well.

We recently decided to look for another dog to join our two darlings. It took several months, and then last week there finally was just Th dog we were looking for, tine

Three dogs seems to work very well for dogs, makes them very happy, dogs prefer to live in packs, so our three dogs are happy with their pack.

Picture Of Daisy

English Art.



Muffie @ Kaleidoscope Muff tagged me on 11 April

http://kaleidoscopemuff.blogspot.com/


To see link to her post that day

http://kaleidoscopemuff.blogspot.com/2010/04/ive-been-tagged.html


I would like to tag the following blogs:

Rei @ Xenomorph Angel

http://deadtraumfrau.blogspot.com/


Sherry @ Word Salads

http://wordsalads.blogspot.com/

Chekoala @ Wobbly Teetering Blogging


http://multiplesclerosisprincess.blogspot.com/

Kris @ Where To Vegan

http://www.wheretovegan.com/


Dawn @ Vanilla Kitchen

http://vanillakitchen.blogspot.com/

Darlene @ Rustic Ranch

http://rusticranch.blogspot.com/


Nikina @ Nik’s Backyard

http://niksbackyard.blogspot.com/


Pb @ Pat’s Pond

http://patspond.blogspot.com/


MS-Understood @ MS-Understood

http://www.ms-understood.com/



S.S-O @ Multiple Sclerosis And Me

http://msxats.blogspot.com/


Marit @ Marit Christlock-Lauterbach

http://marit-chrislock-lauterbach.blogspot.com/





My favourite photo is of our first dog Daisy on the balcony @ the Haarlemmerdijk, Amsterdam in 1997.

She was a beautiful dog, a typical terrier and amazingly well behaved and very obedient for one.

A very clever dog, she could fetch her bed and blanket to spend lazy Sunday mornings in the bedroom with us drinking tea and listening to the radio.

She was a great little actress if you told her she was sad and having a hard time she would look very sad indeed in seconds, an Oscar winnign performance.

Daisy was a great mouse and rat hunter, solved the mouse problem one summer att he Haarlemmer Dijk in 1997 and got the undying love of a local flowershop by killing a rat she chased out of his shop and killed in 1999.

She was very popular on that street getting lots of attention and dog biscuits from the shop keepers while I had to wait to buy something.

A great dog and sorely missed by Richie and I.

And my favourite poem by Allen Ginsberg is:


A Supermarket In California

What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked down the
streets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon.

In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon fruit
supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations!
What peaches and what penumbras! Whole families shopping at night! Aisles
full of husbands! Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes! --- and you,
Garcia Lorca, what were you doing down by the watermelons?
I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber, poking among the
meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery boys.
I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the pork chops? What price
bananas? Are you my Angel?
I wandered in and out of the brilliant stacks of cans following you, and
followed in my imagination by the store detective.
We strode down the open corridors together in our solitary fancy tasting
artichokes, possessing every frozen delicacy, and never passing the cashier.
Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors close in an hour. Which way does
your beard point tonight?
(I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the supermarket and feel
absurd.)
Will we walk all night through solitary streets? The trees add shade to
shade, lights out in the houses, we'll both be lonely.
Will we stroll dreaming of the lost America of love past blue automobiles in
driveways, home to our silent cottage?
Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage-teacher, what America did you
have when Charon quit poling his ferry and you got out on a smoking bank and
stood watching the boat disappear on the black waters of Lethe?


Have a good day everyone and please do not forget to visit Steve @ The Wheel of Fortuna and leave him a supportive comment.

http://spinfortunaswheel.blogspot.com/

The Importance of Being.

Wild Mushrooms.


Last night ate a couple of space chocolates Richie had made for me, very good chocolates but did not feel totally reassured that they would get me off to sleep.

This was because Richie had showed me a big new pile of post and added to the pile that is already there for me to deal with, could feel myself getting very tense.

Think showing me the post just before we went to sleep was not a good idea, hope we can eat and then deal with them as I am sure its fear of the unknown that is getting me in a right old state.

Until I see the post I shall be having all sorts of thoughts which I am sure will not happen.

Think despite the cool weather I do need some air in the room as it feels very stuffy in here.

The dogs came in all damp from the rain and have filled the room with aroma of wet dog, wet and not so happy dogs.

Going around the block in the rain is horrid, going to the park in rain; even pouring rain is glorious fun.

Funny wee dogs, our first dog Daisy was like that too, if anything even more of a princess.

She hated it raining when she went round the block and would take ages to find somewhere dry so she could piss on.

A weird dog, our little princess Daisy.

She had alot of funny little ways, she would show her disapproval by sniffing, lots of different sniffs, and if I laughed she would pick Richie out as the culprit and glare at him.

If that set us both off and we both laughed she would do her Lady Bracknell (Importance of being Ernest by Oscar Wilde)impersonation and sniff very loudly and leave the room slowly and elegantly and leaving us in no doubt of the reason for her departure.

She was an incredible dog, if you said to her oh my poor darling Daisy aren't you so well today she would let her head hang down slightly and look like she had a very hard life.

Her whole body would change; before you said anything she would be standing full of vigour her coat gleaming.

And as soon as she started to play along her body would sag and her coat would not look as good, it would look a touch baggy and have no shine.

She would look like if she could talk she would tell you horrendous stories of hunger and fleeing from hostile enemies and escaping by sheer hard work and persistence on her part.

She was a wonderful brave heroine of a dog.

Looked like she took in washing to keep a family of 16 and the rest of the time she was washing floors, poor girl.

Daisy could go from happy to abysmally miserable in a second just by our suggestion, a wonderful dog.

It was very sad that she died in June 2006, on the Saturday she had a wonderful time in the park and came back very happy and immediately went out onto the b balcony with her treat, to show and bake in the sun.

She had a great day, the next day Sunday she was abit tired after Richie brought the dogs back from the park, but again took her treat out on to the balcony.

As she had water out there we did not see her again until near the end of the afternoon when she suddenly sounded in distress.

Her breathing was strange and difficult; she was gasping and looked in great pain as well as being extremely scared.

Richie gave her some painkillers that night, which seemed to do the trick as she was calmer and could eat her dinner and anything else that was on offer.

The next day Richie took her to the vets, who sent him to one with a scanner; this showed that her longs were totally full of tumours.

We very sadly arranged to take her to our vet, who already knew the test results, the next day.

Daisy was with us for one more day, where we both did our best not to show her how sad we were really feeling.

Richie had to carry her up and down the steps, two flights were too much, we had enough painkillers to take the pain away and give her a last good night with us.

She still could eat her treats and biscuits which we were very liberal with, the next day we took the tram, she moved very carefully.

We got to the vet’s and she was very happy to be there, and meet her friend Barbara, the wonderful vet and her assistant.

She even w anted her usual biscuit and after checking we wanted to go ahead Barbara gave Daisy the first injection while Richie held her in his arms.

She went off so quickly and then Barbara gave her the second injection and our beautiful Daisy was dead.

This was in the same week as my first MRI which did not make me optimistic that all would be well for me.

As it turned out despite my thinking on Daisy’s last night at home that I would not be alive for too much longer than Daisy, I am still alive and here and planning to be here for as long as possible.

We will always miss Daisy, she was an incredible dog, a lovely friend, we have so many wonderful stories we tell each other about her.

Telling stories is how we coped with our grief of missing her, that is I guess how we humans deal with life.

Story telling helps us to understand and they also help to remind us of friends who are no longer with us.

As long as we are remembered none of us will be dead, we will live on in stories and thoughts of those who are alive.





PS Will be sitting for 30 minutes later on.

Every Day is a new day....

Amsterdam Life.

We were both woken by tremendous noise this morning seemed like all the rubbish containers in the street were being emptied at the same time.

The noise was not just the sound of the containers being winched up but also the noise of several large well fed Amsterdam men.

Who had to accompany each action seemingly with a shouted conversation and if possible at a great distance from each other so everyone could hear.

They were yodelling at each other very loudly but incomprehensible to all but the men themselves.

This was at 7 am this morning, obviously their motto is I am awake and so you will be too.

Fortunately, although we both did wake up, we both drifted off to sleep again after the trucks had driven off.

Then the peace returned, well it did long enough for us both to drift off again until 9.30 when I woke up feeling very relaxed.

So much so that becoming conscious of the pain again as I am every morning did not produce a huge squeal of pain, today it was little sounds of pain.

As soon as Richie heard he went off to get some THC for me which relaxed me even more.

Then Richie brought his coffee in and we listened to radio and talked as he drank his coffee and played with the dogs.

An excellent dog bonding moment and Spike and Marleen were really enjoying themselves rolling around having their tummies tickled and then running for the ball.

Both excelling themselves because I am watching them play, they will always make an extra effort for someone watching, especially me.

They are such actors, I think all dogs are actors, Spike has his likes and dislikes, and he does not like Richie playing the harmonica or the trumpet.

If Richie plays one or the other even in another room Spike will start to whimper and then to wail loudly.

Marleen hates Richie putting things on his head, certain hats are not favourites and a pillow
even briefly is cause for disapproving barking.

And lots of it too plus looks, as you have never seen before

She also hates sniffing near her and being looked at too directly and basically anything she does not like at any given moment.

Our other dog Daisy was an incredible actress, if you told her that she was being very brave she would look very stoical, like she had been through tremendous trauma.

And if you said what a horrible time you are having she would tremble sometimes very extravagantly.

Often reminded me of Scarlet in Gone with the Wind it was such a dramatic performance from the dog.

Like the day she decided that rubber gloves were evil.

One day Richie put on rubber gloves like he had done for 10 years to either do the dishes or chop up hot peppers.

This time as soon as he had pulled the gloves on she jumped up dramatically, trembling violently and ran over to me.

Then she hid behind my legs and peeped out at Richie shaking and pressed up against my legs.

It was really quite bizarre as we had both been using rubber gloves for a variety of household chores.

Without Daisy reacting like this, once she did it once she did it nearly every time from then on and each time it was an Oscar winning performance.

When Richie had just moved back to Amsterdam in 1997 Daisy did not quite feel at home here, outside was an exciting new world but inside was more worrying.

Not long after they moved to the Haarlmmer Dijk we had a lot of mice invade on the look out for food.

This occurred every summer when the restaurant was closed for their holiday, this time the mice were jumping in via the gas meter box and sprinting over my bed to run to the kitchen.

I called Daisy and showed her the mice and suggested she catch them and instead she ran away.

That evening she jumped to catch a fly and went out of sight only to reappear with a dead mouse in her mouth.

We were delighted and gave her a biscuit where upon she went off and came back minutes later with a pile of mice, about ten in total.

She was amply rewarded and this was happily accepted but more importantly she now had a role in the apartment.

Daisy had a mission now and she became a happier dog and soon settled down to her new life in Amsterdam.

Everyday she would search happily for mice if we said where are the mice or said check out the mice or even if we just sniffed.

Then she would go off proudly and do an inspection tour of the apartment looking for mice, when she was finished she would come back to claim her biscuit.

After awhile she would sometimes initiate a mouse hunt herself and present herself all delighted with her little self and claim her biscuit.

Luckily she did not overdo it and just seemed to top up her daily biscuit intake by one, but one that seemed to matter a lot to her.

That was because she made it happen through her independent action, something that I can understand even better these days.

Independence is so very important to all of us, never realised quite how important it was until I had none left after becoming so handicapped.

Appreciate what I have still got even more than ever.

Every day is a new day and a new chance.

Here is a site with local info about Amsterdam

http://www.blogcatalog.com/blog/amsterdam-spotted-by-locals