Post by ABC 7 Chicago.
Her handler, SGT Jason Bos, says, "It's time for her to retire and live the couch life." I love the comments left on the original post on Facebook.
Showing posts with label Feel Good Stuff. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Feel Good Stuff. Show all posts
Thursday, February 12, 2015
Happy Reunion -- Get Out the Tissues
This video is out of Chicago, from the ABC affiliate there. It depicts the arrival of a bomb-sniffing dog named Clia in the airport concourse after her retirement. She was surprised by her former handler who has been allowed to adopt her. Her sheer joy at seeing him, and his obvious love for her, are genuinely heartwarming. I get happy tears every time I watch it -- and I've watched it a lot!
Her handler, SGT Jason Bos, says, "It's time for her to retire and live the couch life." I love the comments left on the original post on Facebook.
Her handler, SGT Jason Bos, says, "It's time for her to retire and live the couch life." I love the comments left on the original post on Facebook.
Tuesday, October 7, 2014
A Message From Puppyville
Geez. It's been more than a month since I posted! Who had any idea how much work a litter of pups can be. Certainly not us!
They're 8 1/2 weeks old now, have had their first shots, and been checked out by the vet. No worms! That's the best part! They're cute and smart and energetic.
And 6 of them have found new forever homes.
It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be to let them go, but it's getting harder. Two have gone to family members -- to the Son and Younger Daughter. One has gone to my late best friend's brother's family in Jonesboro. One went to the parents of Younger Daughter's late friend. Another went to the family of one of the Girls' high school buddies. Last night a young E-4 Guardsman and his sweet little family came to take Tank (the largest puppy) home with them. So,then there were three.
One (maybe two) will stay with us. We're contemplating donating one to a service organization for training as a service/companion dog -- maybe Wounded Warriors or Lighthouse for the Blind. Remaining at Moogie's Manor are who we call (L - R) Count Pounce of Bouligny, Bouligny's Mystic Lagniappe (Yep, Murphy, I stole your pup's name! We call her Yap.), and Malcolm in the Middle:
See how big they've gotten! Yesterday evening, the pup (now known as Chelsea) who went to live with the Son's family at "Paulsons' House of Chaos" came for a visit. They played so hard that they were little more than a blur!
This video is a few weeks old, but shows them in action:
Cleaning up after all nine was a chore, but cleaning up after three 8 1/2 week old growing bladders leads me to give you an investment tip: buy stock in paper towel companies! Here are a few more captured cutenesses:
Life is good.
They're 8 1/2 weeks old now, have had their first shots, and been checked out by the vet. No worms! That's the best part! They're cute and smart and energetic.
And 6 of them have found new forever homes.
It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be to let them go, but it's getting harder. Two have gone to family members -- to the Son and Younger Daughter. One has gone to my late best friend's brother's family in Jonesboro. One went to the parents of Younger Daughter's late friend. Another went to the family of one of the Girls' high school buddies. Last night a young E-4 Guardsman and his sweet little family came to take Tank (the largest puppy) home with them. So,then there were three.
One (maybe two) will stay with us. We're contemplating donating one to a service organization for training as a service/companion dog -- maybe Wounded Warriors or Lighthouse for the Blind. Remaining at Moogie's Manor are who we call (L - R) Count Pounce of Bouligny, Bouligny's Mystic Lagniappe (Yep, Murphy, I stole your pup's name! We call her Yap.), and Malcolm in the Middle:
See how big they've gotten! Yesterday evening, the pup (now known as Chelsea) who went to live with the Son's family at "Paulsons' House of Chaos" came for a visit. They played so hard that they were little more than a blur!
This video is a few weeks old, but shows them in action:
Cleaning up after all nine was a chore, but cleaning up after three 8 1/2 week old growing bladders leads me to give you an investment tip: buy stock in paper towel companies! Here are a few more captured cutenesses:
I have the most toys, so I win.
What do you mean it's morning?
Sleepy? Who's sleepy?
Well, I may have already crossed that threshhold.
Life is good.
Sunday, February 16, 2014
Sniff the Air and Take a Stroll With Me
I just finished reading the "High Profile" section of the Sunday paper. It's akin to the "society" pages of days gone by. On the front page, one person is featured, and part of the feature is asking the honoree to answer seemingly silly, insipid, Barbara Walters-esque questions (Who would you invite to your ideal dinner party? What is your favorite color?). One of today's interview topics was "a smell that makes me nostalgic." The subject, a Vietnam Vet and long-time Director of the North Little Library system, gave such an elegant and insightful answer that it caused me to go digging around in my head for scents and aromas and smells that make me nostalgic.
There are the obvious ones of course, like french toast and maple syrup, or Jergen's Lotion, or leaves burning in the barrel-shaped wire incinerator, or freshly-scrubbed babies' heads, but the two I finally settled on are two I haven't encountered in a long time. The first is:
Purple irises.
The scent of an old-fashioned iris takes me to both sets of grandparents' homes. Nonnie and Pop's backyard in Little Rock had the most beautiful iris garden. They must have planted a hundred bulbs. When I was a little bitty girl, they would set me in the big middle of the garden on a bright, sunny day in the spring, when my eyes were sure to crinkle, to take my picture with their old Kodak box camera. I remember closing those eyes, turning my face skyward, and drinking in as much fragrance of iris as my little lungs could hold, then puffing it all out at once while giggling a little girl giggle. Then we would go inside where I could be the manager of a "store" created by opening the two corner floor cabinet doors so they would intersect. I would get behind that "counter" and "sell" them dishes. Then I'd make a big production of closing and locking the store, and we would all go to the den to watch "Wide World of Sports" and share a big bowl of Yarnell's vanilla ice cream. Pop passed away before my sixth birthday.
Bee Mama and Daddy Gus's house in Nashville (Nashville, Arkansas, not that place in Tennessee that mispronounces itself. It is pronounced NASH-vul, not Nash-vill. The emphasis is on the first syllable, both syllables do not have equal emphasis.) had purple irises in the front yard, right beside the biggest purple hydrangea you've ever seen. Granted, I was a little girl, but that hydrangea seemed like its own forest to me. There were yellow irises out back. They had a slightly less powerful fragrance than the purples, a little softer. I remember "helping" Daddy Gus weed his garden with that yellow iris scent in the background, then passing by the purple iris scent when we rounded the free-standing garage on our way to the kitchen for some home-cranked fresh peach ice cream made with peaches that Bee Mama had "put up" in wax-covered paper freezer cartons the summer before.
Hmmm. It seems that ice cream seems to be playing a prominent role in Moogie's journey into memories today.
The next fragrance to stand out is:
Chanel No. 5.
Every year when I was a child, without fail, for their December wedding anniversary, Daddy would carefully wrap and give Mama a small bottle of Chanel No. 5 perfume. Not cologne, mind you, but the real thing -- french eau de parfum. He might have messed up and given her Arpege one year, but Arpege was more for everyday use, not just for special occasions. I probably could still tell you today what it is if I saw a wrapped Chanel No. 5, so distinctive is that box's shape and size. Mama made that bottle last almost the entire year -- she often ran a little short in December if they'd had a particularly social year. She always kept it in the box on her poudre dressing table; it wasn't good for perfume to be exposed to sunlight, she said. When I saw Mama gently and sparingly applying little dabs of Chanel with the glass rod that slipped and clinked inside the bottle, I knew she would soon be dressed to the nines, and that I would have a special babysitter who would bring me little girl treats like bobby pins or Archie comic books. I would also get to have a rare feast of Austex Spaghetti and Meatballs in a can, or a frozen Chicken Pot Pie, or -- heavenliest of all heavenlies -- a Turkey and Gravy TV Dinner with a little chocolate cake dessert in the corner of the aluminum pan! You know, instead of those boring ol' homecooked meals with real meat and vegetables. And cornbread.
As a casualty of adult-onset allergies, fragrance is no longer worn by Moogie. But there was a time, early in our marriage, when Pepper gave me Chanel No. 5. That's when I came truly to understand that he kinda likes me. I probably have that bottle stashed away somewhere. I think I'll go look for it.
And, maybe have a little ice cream.
Why don't you join me?
There are the obvious ones of course, like french toast and maple syrup, or Jergen's Lotion, or leaves burning in the barrel-shaped wire incinerator, or freshly-scrubbed babies' heads, but the two I finally settled on are two I haven't encountered in a long time. The first is:
Purple irises.
The scent of an old-fashioned iris takes me to both sets of grandparents' homes. Nonnie and Pop's backyard in Little Rock had the most beautiful iris garden. They must have planted a hundred bulbs. When I was a little bitty girl, they would set me in the big middle of the garden on a bright, sunny day in the spring, when my eyes were sure to crinkle, to take my picture with their old Kodak box camera. I remember closing those eyes, turning my face skyward, and drinking in as much fragrance of iris as my little lungs could hold, then puffing it all out at once while giggling a little girl giggle. Then we would go inside where I could be the manager of a "store" created by opening the two corner floor cabinet doors so they would intersect. I would get behind that "counter" and "sell" them dishes. Then I'd make a big production of closing and locking the store, and we would all go to the den to watch "Wide World of Sports" and share a big bowl of Yarnell's vanilla ice cream. Pop passed away before my sixth birthday.
Bee Mama and Daddy Gus's house in Nashville (Nashville, Arkansas, not that place in Tennessee that mispronounces itself. It is pronounced NASH-vul, not Nash-vill. The emphasis is on the first syllable, both syllables do not have equal emphasis.) had purple irises in the front yard, right beside the biggest purple hydrangea you've ever seen. Granted, I was a little girl, but that hydrangea seemed like its own forest to me. There were yellow irises out back. They had a slightly less powerful fragrance than the purples, a little softer. I remember "helping" Daddy Gus weed his garden with that yellow iris scent in the background, then passing by the purple iris scent when we rounded the free-standing garage on our way to the kitchen for some home-cranked fresh peach ice cream made with peaches that Bee Mama had "put up" in wax-covered paper freezer cartons the summer before.
Hmmm. It seems that ice cream seems to be playing a prominent role in Moogie's journey into memories today.
The next fragrance to stand out is:
Chanel No. 5.
Every year when I was a child, without fail, for their December wedding anniversary, Daddy would carefully wrap and give Mama a small bottle of Chanel No. 5 perfume. Not cologne, mind you, but the real thing -- french eau de parfum. He might have messed up and given her Arpege one year, but Arpege was more for everyday use, not just for special occasions. I probably could still tell you today what it is if I saw a wrapped Chanel No. 5, so distinctive is that box's shape and size. Mama made that bottle last almost the entire year -- she often ran a little short in December if they'd had a particularly social year. She always kept it in the box on her poudre dressing table; it wasn't good for perfume to be exposed to sunlight, she said. When I saw Mama gently and sparingly applying little dabs of Chanel with the glass rod that slipped and clinked inside the bottle, I knew she would soon be dressed to the nines, and that I would have a special babysitter who would bring me little girl treats like bobby pins or Archie comic books. I would also get to have a rare feast of Austex Spaghetti and Meatballs in a can, or a frozen Chicken Pot Pie, or -- heavenliest of all heavenlies -- a Turkey and Gravy TV Dinner with a little chocolate cake dessert in the corner of the aluminum pan! You know, instead of those boring ol' homecooked meals with real meat and vegetables. And cornbread.
As a casualty of adult-onset allergies, fragrance is no longer worn by Moogie. But there was a time, early in our marriage, when Pepper gave me Chanel No. 5. That's when I came truly to understand that he kinda likes me. I probably have that bottle stashed away somewhere. I think I'll go look for it.
And, maybe have a little ice cream.
Why don't you join me?
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
A Day in the Life of Home Ownership
Something mystifying and wondrous happened to me today. Its like may never occur again, so I need to record it for fear that I'm losing what's left of my mind and somehow made it up.
But, I swear, I didn't make it up.
We've had so much work done on Moogie's Mansion the last couple of months that it's hard to remember everything we've done. We're still living in chaos, though, because most of the Laura Ashley bathroom (everyone needs a full bath decorated in busy, dark mauve Laura Ashley-esque floral prints off the kitchen, dontcha know. We never got around to re-doing that bathroom.) is currently located in the kitchen and dining room while new tile is laid to replace that hideous pink carpet. "Currently located" includes the toilet, which currently peeks out from under the kitchen table. I have managed to get the contents of the laundry room out of the bathroom and dining room back into the new, much more spacious laundry room, though.
Have I mentioned that we've taken in a tenant? Moogie's Mansion is zoned as a multiple family dwelling, there being 2 water and power meters, and several entrances from outside. Pepper actually lived in the apartment upstairs before we bought the Mansion and before I moved down here full-time. When the house went on the market, he had fallen in love with it and didn't want to risk having bad new landlords, so we just bought the old girl. He had one tenant, a work colleague, before I moved down, and we haven't had one since, using the apartment as guest quarters instead.
Moving in a tenant meant packing up and moving a quarter of the house from one side to the other! At least a quarter of the house is now culled and packed away, ready for the next move. But what a nightmare! And the remainder of upstairs looks kinda like a used furniture store, with stuff stacked and leaning up against other stuff. We're gonna have to get a storage unit.
Anyway, another improvement we made was to replace the master bathroom toilet. It was probably medieval vintage. Long story shorter, when our wonderful Kerry Luminais Emergency Plumbers installed the new one, they cut off the water to the upstairs, too, by mistake. And after they turned it back on, the water pressure to the apartment kitchen slowed over a period of days to something that might be generously described as a trickle. Pepper, Tenant's dad (who is a work friend of Pepper and occasionally stays here with her overnight when work calls him to New Orleans -- Tenant is a cute young female twenty-something), and I all agreed -- using our best plumber's intuition -- that something was clogging the ancient pipe and that it would need to be replaced.
Thank goodness for Kerry Luminais Emergency Plumbers!
The guys got here this afternoon, checked out the problem, cleaned out the filter on the kitchen sink faucet, and left a tool for Cute Young Tenant to use should the problem recur. All in the space of about 5 minutes, water was flowing freely.
But, here's the miraculous part.
As we were walking down the exterior steps, I remarked how painless that had been and asked what I owed him.
Are you ready for this?
He said, "Not a thing. My pleasure. And I'm still looking for a girlfriend for Bouie."
I nearly fainted (especially since the stove repair guy had nicked us for a hefty repair bill to fix the apartment stove earlier in the day.)
I mean, when's the last time you heard of a plumber doing something like that?!?!
I'm really gonna miss Kerry Luminais Emergency Plumbers.
And, I promise I didn't make this up.
But, I swear, I didn't make it up.
We've had so much work done on Moogie's Mansion the last couple of months that it's hard to remember everything we've done. We're still living in chaos, though, because most of the Laura Ashley bathroom (everyone needs a full bath decorated in busy, dark mauve Laura Ashley-esque floral prints off the kitchen, dontcha know. We never got around to re-doing that bathroom.) is currently located in the kitchen and dining room while new tile is laid to replace that hideous pink carpet. "Currently located" includes the toilet, which currently peeks out from under the kitchen table. I have managed to get the contents of the laundry room out of the bathroom and dining room back into the new, much more spacious laundry room, though.
Have I mentioned that we've taken in a tenant? Moogie's Mansion is zoned as a multiple family dwelling, there being 2 water and power meters, and several entrances from outside. Pepper actually lived in the apartment upstairs before we bought the Mansion and before I moved down here full-time. When the house went on the market, he had fallen in love with it and didn't want to risk having bad new landlords, so we just bought the old girl. He had one tenant, a work colleague, before I moved down, and we haven't had one since, using the apartment as guest quarters instead.
Moving in a tenant meant packing up and moving a quarter of the house from one side to the other! At least a quarter of the house is now culled and packed away, ready for the next move. But what a nightmare! And the remainder of upstairs looks kinda like a used furniture store, with stuff stacked and leaning up against other stuff. We're gonna have to get a storage unit.
Anyway, another improvement we made was to replace the master bathroom toilet. It was probably medieval vintage. Long story shorter, when our wonderful Kerry Luminais Emergency Plumbers installed the new one, they cut off the water to the upstairs, too, by mistake. And after they turned it back on, the water pressure to the apartment kitchen slowed over a period of days to something that might be generously described as a trickle. Pepper, Tenant's dad (who is a work friend of Pepper and occasionally stays here with her overnight when work calls him to New Orleans -- Tenant is a cute young female twenty-something), and I all agreed -- using our best plumber's intuition -- that something was clogging the ancient pipe and that it would need to be replaced.
Thank goodness for Kerry Luminais Emergency Plumbers!
The guys got here this afternoon, checked out the problem, cleaned out the filter on the kitchen sink faucet, and left a tool for Cute Young Tenant to use should the problem recur. All in the space of about 5 minutes, water was flowing freely.
But, here's the miraculous part.
As we were walking down the exterior steps, I remarked how painless that had been and asked what I owed him.
Are you ready for this?
He said, "Not a thing. My pleasure. And I'm still looking for a girlfriend for Bouie."
I nearly fainted (especially since the stove repair guy had nicked us for a hefty repair bill to fix the apartment stove earlier in the day.)
I mean, when's the last time you heard of a plumber doing something like that?!?!
I'm really gonna miss Kerry Luminais Emergency Plumbers.
And, I promise I didn't make this up.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Moogie's True, Feel-good, Christmas Miracle Story
On Christmas Eve, I was navigating the aisles at the enormous grocery that I call Krogerville because it deserves its own zip code, intent on grabbing what I needed and getting the heck out of there (along with most of the rest of the population of central Arkansas), when I heard a clattering racket behind me. A young woman had knocked over an entire display of holiday muffin tins and was frantically trying to pick them up, without much success.
"Bless her heart," I thought as I turned to resume pushing my cart.
But then I heard myself talking to me in my head. "It's Christmas Eve. We're all frazzled. Go help her."
So I walked back to her, set my purse down, and we got everything back in place while sharing a good laugh. She went her way and I went mine.
About five minutes later, as I was searching for the good kind of eggnog, a voice over the loudspeaker announced, "MoogieP, please report to Customer Service." Twice! And it dawned on me that my purse was no longer on my arm.
You know that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach? I had it in spades. My cell phone. My car keys. My billfold. My chapstick!!
But when I got to Customer Service, as I had dared to hope (since they knew my name, of course), they had my purse! Someone had turned it in! And, here's the miraculous part -- everything was intact! Nothing missing -- not even cash! I smiled and hummed Christmas carols aloud for the duration of that shopping trip, feeling quite peaceful and good-will-toward-men-ish.
So, I guess it truly does pay to do a good deed -- it might come around back to you sooner than you could imagine. Merry Christmas Season to one and all! May the miracles multiply for you and yours.
And, Geaux Saints! Pluck those Dirty Birds!
What? Don't judge me. Beating Atlanta on Monday Night Football feels good, too!
"Bless her heart," I thought as I turned to resume pushing my cart.
But then I heard myself talking to me in my head. "It's Christmas Eve. We're all frazzled. Go help her."
So I walked back to her, set my purse down, and we got everything back in place while sharing a good laugh. She went her way and I went mine.
About five minutes later, as I was searching for the good kind of eggnog, a voice over the loudspeaker announced, "MoogieP, please report to Customer Service." Twice! And it dawned on me that my purse was no longer on my arm.
You know that sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach? I had it in spades. My cell phone. My car keys. My billfold. My chapstick!!
But when I got to Customer Service, as I had dared to hope (since they knew my name, of course), they had my purse! Someone had turned it in! And, here's the miraculous part -- everything was intact! Nothing missing -- not even cash! I smiled and hummed Christmas carols aloud for the duration of that shopping trip, feeling quite peaceful and good-will-toward-men-ish.
So, I guess it truly does pay to do a good deed -- it might come around back to you sooner than you could imagine. Merry Christmas Season to one and all! May the miracles multiply for you and yours.
And, Geaux Saints! Pluck those Dirty Birds!
What? Don't judge me. Beating Atlanta on Monday Night Football feels good, too!
Thursday, November 10, 2011
Zeus' Place Does It Again!
You may recall an earlier post about Zeus' Place, the wonderful New Orleans kennel and rescue operation where Bouie and Rosie go to board and be groomed. Well, they've been at it again.
They rescued a sweet little pup in September and named her Bethany. The big problem with the little cutie -- in addition to the usual issues associated with rescues -- was the devastating injury sustained by her rear leg. And, I mean devastating. Michelle, the owner of Zeus' Place, made the decision to have the leg amputated to save the little bundle of sweetness, not knowing where the money (a rather substantial sum!) to pay for the surgery would come from. New Orleans answered the call, and now Bethany has a long, happy life ahead of her to share with her new forever family, including Quinn, a German Shepherd who is her best buddy and protector. Meet Bethany and Quinn, and enjoy a little feel-good dog story!
They rescued a sweet little pup in September and named her Bethany. The big problem with the little cutie -- in addition to the usual issues associated with rescues -- was the devastating injury sustained by her rear leg. And, I mean devastating. Michelle, the owner of Zeus' Place, made the decision to have the leg amputated to save the little bundle of sweetness, not knowing where the money (a rather substantial sum!) to pay for the surgery would come from. New Orleans answered the call, and now Bethany has a long, happy life ahead of her to share with her new forever family, including Quinn, a German Shepherd who is her best buddy and protector. Meet Bethany and Quinn, and enjoy a little feel-good dog story!
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