Saturday, August 27, 2011

The Return to The Pond

Hi, friends!  Bailey & Gracie here--just back from New Hampshire in time to catch Hurricane Irene.

We vote for going right back!

Anyway, we thought we'd share a brief account of our adventures before the power goes off...


Our most important Mission:  Chipmunk Patrol !

Alvin tormented us by scurrying about in the Pachysandra below the deck, collecting sunflower seeds from the birdfeeder; but he DID NOT get in!



Mr. Loon was there to greet us.  It's reassuring that some things never change!



Lunatic Buster carried his Sacred Tennis Ball around the front deck, tossing it and retrieving it over and over again. 


I, Bailey, demonstrated my self-assurance by leading myself around by the loose end of my collar.  This technique is all the rage in rural New Hampshire!



The little ones came and went, competing with diminutive ferocity for the sugar-water that will propel them across the Gulf of Mexico in a few weeks.



Our loon buddy proceeded to empty the pond of trout with enviable professionalism.



What do you think?  Isn't my posterior elegant?




Big Bird strolled the grounds, terrorizing the frogs.



All in all, The Pond--like a good St. Emilion--improves with age.  Honestly, it gets prettier every year!



And the reason we were tormented by Vile Chipmunks?  Northern Waterthrushes!  In an evil conspiracy with the nefarious rodents, they kicked extra sunflower seeds out of the feeder and down to the garden below, where the little striped reprobates stuffed them into their pouches.


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Gracie, of course, was one wandering girl--she went everywhere!


How do you like our "Bookend" routine?


Note the recent addition of the Chipmunk Pursuit-Prevention Net.  The humans have NO sense of humor!


We'll share more pictures later!  Just gotta get through this darned cyclone first!

Your faithful correspondents,


Bailey & Gracie



Tuesday, August 2, 2011

"A Thousand Cherry Blossoms Fall in Defense of the Homeland"-- A saga of Samurai valor, by Buster

Comrades, I tell you, it was a close call!  A malevolent  Invader had massed his forces against the sacred Homeland, assisted by diabolical technology that could only be defeated by the spirit of Bushido and the wise customs of my Kerry Blue Ancestors!



I knew that I had to oppose this evil threat--even at the cost of my own whiskers.  Buster, the Samurai would prevail against superior forces, and my name would live forever at the Yasukuni Shrine.



I wrote my last Haiku in blood:

     Life flies as the wind

     Rushing through the open door,

     Dog biscuits crumble !
 
Then I bad final farewell to my fellow warriors and commenced my mission:


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The above footage was captured from the Enemy, who perversely claimed that he was only attempting to water the grass.   Nefarious lies!  I showed him how a Samurai terrier NEVER surrenders!


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The Evil Invader slunk off in defeat and shame.  But I had to ensure that his Weapons of Mass Destruction were neutralized, and that he could never subject my Homeland to such a threat again.



I returned to my washitsu, assumed traditional posture upon the floor, and participated in a tea ceremony with my admiring family.

Your friend,

Buster