Going to the Dogs

Greetings from holiday land.

Actually, we are no longer in holiday land, but we are still on holiday, so to speak. After visiting BIL and SIL, we are back home but only for a few days before we head off to Toronto to visit daughter2 and friend. This will be our final get-together with them before they fly off for an extended romp around Southeast Asia. Although it will be a few weeks early we'll also celebrate D2's birthday while there. Meanwhile, we have a few days here at home to recuperate before this next round of visitations.

It seems that Cuppa's family all and always have dogs. I like dogs, but we are the misfits and usually seem to have a cat or two hanging about. I like cats too, so this is no hardship for me. Maybe I'll have a dog someday, but the proper timing and circumstances have not yet seemed to converge. For one thing, our cat isn't young, so it doesn't seem best to foist a dog on him. Yet, as I say that, I am also forced to admit that he is an even-tempered and easy-going beastie who would probably adapt quite well. I guess that it I who am not ready for a dog. Maybe I never will be and will remain the family oddity.

But like them I do, and I was able to enjoy them for four days. The first two, below, seen through the screen door, are my BIL's dogs. They are purebred dogs — King Charles Cavalier Spaniels if you please. I am at pains to refrain from genuflecting whenever I say that. Anyway, they are delightful little pooches. The brown one, Oliver, is much younger than Charlie but not as much larger as he appears in this photo.

Then there is Zeus, my SIL's canine. I'm not sure how he came by the name, for he is a much beloved mongrel, a lab-shepherd mix if I understand it correctly. Cuppa took this picture of Zeus sitting by me as I read a magazine.

Of course, since he is called Zeus, and given his exalted stature in the household, at some point, we began referring to him as God of the Dogs. And so it has come to pass that when I was am visiting on a Sunday that I have taken to singing The DOGsologoy (get it?) to him or rather with him. I know it's irreverent, but given his name and status, it seems appropriate. So I sing, "Praise Dog from ... " and so on. And the great thing is that he sings along with me. I don't know if that is what we are singing in the picture below, but I do know that we are singing ... or howling at that point. His singing startles me sometimes. You see, I am the type to hum, whistle and sing without thinking at any old sporadic moment. Sometimes, I forget that he's around and am unaware that I am making a joyful noise of some description, so it surprises me when a dog suddenly appears howling and singing at my side. I love it though.

There is a small river on the back of my SIL's recreational property (the one that we call Riverwood and that I call a cottage and Cuppa calls a farm). On a hot day SIL's hubby and I might go in for a dip. Here we are returning from such an event. I am wearing my new Aussie-type cowboyish hat. I have a more North American one, but it has never been comfortable. While on this little vacation I happened to try this one on. It fit and the price was right. But I think the pained expression on my face in this picture was the result of being surprised by yet another random shooting by my wife who doth snap the shutter with reckless abandon.