Thursday, August 26, 2010


The Gracie Chronicles -- II

an accounting of recent trials and tribulations accompanying the recent arrival of our newest family member

by BUSTER



Okay--so she's still cute.


But how much water can a little dog drink? It just keeps going in, and we never know quite when it will come out again!



Gracie loves to play hide-and-seek. She hides, chews on a wisteria stalk, and pounces when I walk by. This is disturbingly reminiscent of Inspector Clouseau and Cato.


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Whenever Gracie's around, Pandemonium is not far behind.


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When it comes to stealing Wilsons, she strikes without mercy!


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Bailey has her paws full. Constantly.



And another thing...

Her legs!

Garbo?

Giraffe?

For Heaven's sake, they stretch out in back of her forever!

She can outrun a photon.

Sigh...

More later!

Your faithful correspondent,

Buster the Fatigued


Tuesday, August 24, 2010

A New Arrival!

Dear Blogbuddies:

Let me introduce Gracie. She has come to live with us, and I am one happy dog!



She can run like the wind, steal my Wilsons from underneath my nose, and she's almost as cute as Lucia! What more could one ask for?



She asked if she could borrow my cat, and I can assure you that it is being well cared for.


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Here is an example of Grace in Motion: A demonstration of the proper way to transport a Duck!



And now: The Official Winner of the Uncle Buster Look-Alike Contest!



Gracie has an especially fuzzy muzzle the size of the Andromeda Galaxy.


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One of Mozart's early operas was entitled, "The Abduction from the Seraglio." Gracie has composed a sequel: "The Abduction of Bailey's Blue Giraffe."



Sometimes she gets a little tired and takes a nap. This usually takes about 27 seconds.





Then she's up, alert, tongue extended, the quintessence of Kerry Konsciousness!


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In the afternoon, we have speed trials: Gracie calls this maneuver "Ring-Around-Bailey."



At night, she tiptoes around the back yard searching for squirrels, wombats, and giant ground-sloths.



Bailey considers her a pain, but they're best-buds.

I shall have more to report soon!

Your faithful correspondent,

Buster


Thursday, August 12, 2010

Posts from The Pond: More on Buster's Critters

Dearest blog-buddies:

Sorry we've been out of wireless range up the hinterlands of New Hampshire Incognita. I'm sending these few pix by human-lackey-courier. Most of the ones that count--the ones with ME in them (!) are still on an SD disk in the possession of my human female servant, still up in the hills!




Anyway, the Pond is better than it's ever been. Some places, like good Rhone Valley wines, improve with familiarity.




But an EVIL INTRUDER haunts my dreams and my waking hours. EVIL INCARNATE! Red Squirrels are small, but so was Napoleon, and I recollect that he did some serious damage...



The Little Corporal, Monsieur l'Ecureuil, disturbs my birdwatching by rappelling down the wires suspending the feeders and launching an assault upon the sunflower seeds. I am currently conducting negotiations with Monsieur le Red-Tailed Hawk, in the hope that a satisfactory Alliance may be contemplated.



Mr. Loon has successfully emptied the Pond of all Brown and Rainbow Trout, sending my male human servant into a new round of cognitive-behavioral therapy and antidepressant medication.



When there are no trout left, one must sleep. And Mr. Loon does that especially well!



The little Hummer-Ladies are continuing to bulk-up with sugar water, going into intense glycemic highs...



They ARE quite vain, and they pose shamelessly for the paparazzi.



So, for that matter, are the goldfinches!




Mom's garden is looking especially colorful this year, and we are getting visitations from Swallowtail and Monarch butterflies.




I have a new toy! This is my official Sergeant Buster-of-the-Yukon Canoe. I actually DO have pictures of it with me (ME, ME, ME!) in it, in characteristic command of the craft, but those, alas, reside on the aforementioned absent SD disk in the possession of Mom the Possessor.




All's well. The days are long and languid. Life is perfect.

Your faithful correspondent,

Buster