The motto for Colorado weather is if you don’t like the weather, wait a minute. I was in the TV loft yesterday vegging, when the room started getting dark. I looked out the window, and there were gentle snowflakes falling. I looked again, and it was pouring rain. Remembering that Ivy was out (don’t worry, she has a covered porch also), I went to get her. Hailstones on the ground.
Now imagine a curly Doodle with hailstones just the right size to fit into the middle of her curls, and you have a new breed-the Hailstone Golden Doodle!
Ivy the Golden doodle puppy has managed only to go into the basement once-she has a barrier. That’s where the cat food and kitty litter boxes are. I gave her a new Bully Stick, which she chewed, and left the loft. Too quiet. I went looking for her, and there she was, on the other side of the baby gate which has the door to the basement keeping the door wide enough for the cats to get in.
Ivy ate all the cat food-that’s dinner for tonight, and diarrhea for tomorrow, but left the kitty logs alone. Ick.
My book only has one chapter to finish editing. Ivy isn’t in the book. She’s only 6 months old, and I think now a teenager. With a walk this morning, and the dog park this afternoon, she should crash shortly for the night.
So, it was 75 degrees today in Fort Fun. I took Ivy to the dog park, where she got filthy. Glad I paid all that $$$ for a bath and puppy cut.
Ran a couple errands before we went home. Then, PT for the broken humerus. It’s doing pretty well.
I asked Ivy’s breeder if I could drop off the pen I used for 5 months after PT. If I didn’t hear from her, I’d take my roadster, which is easier to drive than the Outback (yes, everyone in CO drives one), which had the pen in it. I literally was walking out the door with the Benz keys in my hand when Cathie texted me that 3pm would be good to drop off the pen.
Of course, she had the cutest litter of pups. I got to see her favorite retired mama dog, Lilly, and Ivy’s mom is there. She is in heat, and ready to be bred with the one remaining straw of Ivy’s father. So, all the new litter will be Ivy’s biological siblings! How cool.
At Cathie’s, the clouds came in, and on went my sweatshirt (Cubs World Series Champs hoodie). This evening, it was pouring rain. Even Ivy didn’t want to sleep under the covered patio. Tomorrow, it is supposed to be a blizzard. But who knows?
Well, things are settling down from arm fracture. I just can’t hold heavy objects or have it pulled, like if I am not thinking, and have Ivy’s leash in my hand.
Ivy got her first puppy cut Friday, and Frank his usual grooming.
One morning, after the dog park, I stopped at Pier One to get Cowboy Joe a papasan footstool. He uses it as a way up onto the bed. The first night Ivy used her big dog sleeping crate, Joe wasn’t on the bed. But all is well, now. I don’t really know how a veterinary ophthalmologist could evaluate depth perception, but CJ has had it all his life.
Fort Fun was in the 80s yesterday, and is going to be warm but windy today. Ivy went to the front door indicating she wanted to have a walk. I told her to come back and carry her leash to the door. How cute is a puppy carrying her leash to the door because she wants a walk?
Today, Ivy is 6 months old. She gets her first puppy cut Friday while Franklin gets his shave and bath. I fractured my humerus four weeks ago. I’m driving now, very carefully. Painful injury, but through physical therapy, it’s getting better, this four month injury. And, on this date twelve years ago, I had my hip replaced. 75 degrees in Fort Fun. Glad Ivy and I went to the dog park this morning. It’s pretty windy now.
Yes, campers, I have finally taken the plunge and written a book. It’s undergoing editing by the wonderful Judy Fort Brenneman of Greenfire Creative, LLC.
After eight years, I have a new puppy, a delightful Goldendoodle named Ivy. She is six months old. Her breeder, Cathie Crosby of Placer Goldendoodles picked her out for me as a good match. Ivy is a delightful little soul.
I gave the pup Ivy for a name because my beloved Chicago Cubs won the World Series in 2016. Ivy covers the outfield walls at Wrigley Field. I got Ivy 6 days after the series, and today we celebrate four months together. She’s been through two puppy classes, and will take the Canine Good Citizen class to become a therapy dog when she turns one year old.
So here I am in Tucson, riding daily and loving on Hannah and Scoot. My sister told me to get plywood to cover my trailer tires so they don’t sun rot in the heat of the summer. After I went to the store to get it this morning, I went to the horses.
I thought, gee, there’s a scruffy-looking dog. It wasn’t a dog, it was a really ratty coyote walking by bold as you please. This is why Margo insisted I vaccinate the horses for rabies before they shipped out of Colorado.
Then, near the horses, I looked up in a tree, and there was a phainopepla, hope I spelled that correctly, a gorgeous bird that looks like a black cardinal. I was pleased to find that Texas has cardinals as well as pyrroluxias, the third bird in the cardinal family. I will put up my feeders from Colorado to attract the cardinals to my little back yard.
Lastly, while I was lovin’ on the ponies, I looked behind me, and a roadrunner was walking right behind where I was standing. It wasn’t bothered at all by my presence. Just out for an avian cruise, I guess.
That’s all for now from the land the color green forgot.
We have a stray cat in the neighborhood. Tux has been around since before Alexander died. I looked out the window one day and told Earl that Al had gotten out. A closer look revealed that Tux’s white on his nose extended above his eyes, while Al’s stopped at the top of his nose.
I tried to pick Tux up once and was ripped to shreds. He is truly feral, probably a dump from a college student. We got to know each other last summer when my neighbor asked me to feed her horses for a few days, give a hot dog to a fox (bad idea) and to give Tux some kitty fud. I would stroke his thin body, and discover his wonderful purr. Tux and the foxes had a deal where they left each other alone.
Right now, Tux is frightened of the foxes. They are pretty aggressive in protecting their kits. Mr. Fox watches my neighbor, Marylynn, when she gets near their den under her hay pile.
Tux has been coming up to our back door. Another bad idea, because Matthew may start doing the carpet again, as he did when another stray cat came close to the house. Marylynn caught her, and she lives inside now. I’ve been bad in taking Tux a little of Tipper’s dog food. It might as well go to a good cause. Tux enjoys it when I sit with him when he eats. He likes pets while he eats also.
I wrestle with the idea of a cat coming close to being fox food, but Tux is a part of the ‘hood. I don’t want to catch him and send him to a rescue. I like to see him sleeping on the hay in the barn. I just hope he will do his job as a mouser, stay safe and enjoy a little food on the Angel Husky.
See the photo gallery for a picture of Tux.