This is an older picture of Sophie, but I recently sent it to Alison after she requested silly pictures of cats, so I thought I'd post it again here. I love this picture soooooo much!
As always, please feel welcome and encouraged to share pix of the fuzzy, feathered, or scaled members of your family in comments.
Two years ago today, Iain and I walked into the local humane society and fell in love with a little black-and-tan mutt who didn't even have a name. We brought her home and gave her the name Zelda, which is either a variation on the German name Griselda, meaning "dark battle," a forever reminder of where we found her, or a Yiddish name meaning "happiness," a forever reminder of what we've promised her.
She is a splendid companion, and such a happy wee thing that it is almost impossible to be grumpy in her presence. I just look at that grinny face and those big brown eyes and try to remember, always: "It's a day!" Especially on hard days.
She is a bright light in my world. I can't say it any more plainly that that. And I am so grateful that she is part of our family.
Video Description: Zelda the Black and Tan Mutt lies on the floor of my office beside my chair, wagging her tail. Dudley the Greyhound is lying sprawled out beside her. She turns her head and startles to see Matilda the Cat standing there. Matilda squeaks. "What do you want?" I ask. Tilsy squeaks in response, and keeps chattering as she walks away. Zelly watches her. "What do you think she wants, Zelda?" I ask. Zelly looks at Tils. "Tell me," I whisper. She looks at me. "Tell me." Tilsy squeaks. "What does the kitty cat want?" I ask. Zelly looks at me and cocks her head quizzically. Tilsy squeaks. "Do you think she wants treats?" Zelly cocks her head very interestedly. "Do YOU want treats?" I ask. Cocked head; waggy tail. Tilsy squeaks. "Do you want a little bone?" I ask. She hops up. Dudley sits up. "Yes?! You do?" I pan to Dudley, who is looking at me intently now. "Do you want a little bone, Dudley?" I pan back to Zelly. "You do?! Should we go get little bones?" Zelly waits patiently, looking at me with her tail wagging. "Come on," I say, as I move to stand up, "let's go." Zelly hops excitedly and Dudz gets to his feet. "Let's go get 'em!" Dudley stretches lazily. "Oh, big stretch." Zelly stands at my knee. "Are you excited?" She grins and looks at Dudley. "Do you want little bones?" Dudz touches the camera with his nose. "Okay!"
For the record: "Little bones" = any dog treat.
Also for the record: Everyone got treats. Because YAY IT'S A DAY!!!
One of our garden bunnies, part of the warren that lives in our front garden, was out being very cute this morning, munching away on the grass and hopping about happily.
[Video Description: A wee brown bunny sits in the grass, eating grass and weeds adorably. It hops forward, stops and munches. Hops and munches.]
I've put out carrots and spinach, but the bunnies are having none of it. They just want to eat the lawn. Which is fine. We have an unspoken agreement that we will not put down weedkiller, and they will eat the weeds.
And here's video of Matilda just being cute and Matilda-y, earlier today:
Video Description: Matilda the blue-eyed, long-haired, sealpoint cat sits on a chair in my office, rubbing her face on the chair and flopping around and purring, while I pet her.
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As always, please feel welcome and encouraged to share pix of the fuzzy, feathered, or scaled members of your family in comments.
Normally when I open the door in the morning to let the dogs back in for breakfast after their morning constitutional, they are waiting at the door. This morning, there was Important Squirrel Business:
The camera looks out at the backyard from where I'm standing in the doorway of the garage. First Zelly is seen running through the garden toward a big tree, then Dudley quickly follows behind her. Zelly looks up at the tree's branches, which are like 15 feet off the ground. "Puppies, c'mere!" I say. Dudley comes galloping toward me along the path. He's usually the one who never listens, and Zelly's usually the one who is, so I know there's something afoot, lol. Dudley realizes Zelly isn't behind him and turns around, looking for her. Once she comes trotting toward us, he runs in the house. But Zelly stops and turns and looks back at the tree. "What are you doin'?" I ask her. She takes a step back toward the tree and stands at attention. "You're never gonna get that squirrel," I tell her. She takes another step forward and lifts a paw. "Never," I say. She turns and walks toward me, but can't resist turning back around at the door for one last look. I make kissy noises. "Come on." She ignores me. "Zelly." She turns and comes into the house, thwarted!
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