"This ecstasy doth unperplex" -- in which Buster receives a fresh supply of his cherished Wilsons.

A Book of Verses underneath the Bough,
A Jug of Wine, a Loaf of Bread--and Wilson
Beside me singing in the Wilderness--
Oh, Wilson were Paradise enow!

The Rubaiyat of Buster Khayyam

Where to begin?



Few things in life evoke unrestrained ecstasy. Among them: raw beef bones, the Bach partitas for unaccompanied violin, and shiny, new Wilsons!



Thus it was ordained--that I, Buster, the altogether likable and deserving, should receive from my Mom a fresh supply of brand new, not previously-owned, Wilsons.



It had been so long since my cache of yellow gold had been replenished, and most of my very favorites had turned brown from leaf-mold and the accumulated rain of a torrential summer.



So Phase I of the Official Distribution of Wilsons began in the usual way:

It was my misfortune to have to compete with that aggressive little wolf-child, Bailey, for MY Wilsons! She torments me as the Great White Whale did Ahab.



It's all in the nose, you know. Like the smell of a new car! Rather rubbery and synthetic, but reassuring in an odd way. Wilsons have a distinctive scent that, like wine, is improved with a certain amount of aging and saliva!



Round Two: The Evil B_t_h Bailey goes into Wilson-Diva mode while I relegate myself to a remote corner with my precious orb, muttering something like "oh, my precious, oh my precious!" My human sister's flute in the background didn't help; it affects Bailey in the same way that it would a cobra in a basket.

What's a dapper boy-dog to do? She's stealing my show, raining on my parade, masticating my Wilsons!




The final insult: she covetously takes possession of ALL THREE and juggles them like a Cirque du Soleil clown, demonstrating an innate virtuosity of which I am not capable.



HUMILIATION !

Two Wilsons in her paws, one in her mouth. There is ecstasy here, but it's hers, not mine! I'll chase the little devil round Good Hope, and round the Horn, and round the Norway Maelstrom, and round perdition's flames before I give my Wilsons up! Oops--wrong story, wrong century.




And as the sun sets, I, a chastened and humiliated Wonder Dawg, plot my revenge upon Bailey the Über-thief!

Then again, I'll bet Mom has another stash of new Wilsons somewhere around! I'm just a little emotional these days. Where's Lucia?



G'night,


Buster

My Milkweed Collection--by Buster

Hi folks, I'd like to share my poofee-fuzzy friends with you.... I saw some parachuting along -- so I followed them.
These very strange pods hold millions of beeeeeUteefull delicate parachutes, that carry little bitty seeds on the breeze. Of course sooner or later they need to land -- and sometimes they land
on YOU!

I just think the way they are all lined up in their pod, is very nice.. warm....white fuzzeeez!


I've got to be careful they don't land on my tongue.. oh NO not my TONGUE~ !

Check this one out.. the little fluoofs are taking off from the mother pod, getting ready to float on the wind to a new spot....that needs milkweed pods.
HmmmmMMMMmmm wonder if they taste good. Might get to try one if I leave my tongue lollllling out a bit more.


Loooookie that.. they're all lined up just like the parachuters in the movies.. We're goin' down!
They're fluffy not stuffy, if one flies this way...............welllllllll.....My tongue wants to check these floooofs out realllllly badly.


Hey.. thanks for checking these little fella's out.. psssssssst I took one in the house and it PoPPed open -- does that mean I'll have a whole bunch of little baby milkweek podlings growing in the yard? I must check it out!


You know these things are going to be all over the placed, Ms.Blue wants to make a
scarf out of them so she can be fluffy like them. Maybe she'll be able to fly!!!

See how very soft and translucent these little podlings are. They need good homes, we'll try and catch you a really neat one..

Oops... this is a very strange looking one.. no pod. Hmmmm looks like something from the ocean.



Not milkweed! This is the seed pod of a wild clematis vine.


I am now a connoisseur of PODS....w/flooofy flying friends... HAH! Here's another of my flooofy flying friends..



Mallard reflecting upon the reflections..... ah welll I'm a bit tired.

I must sleep now, goodnight floofs......g'night all,


Happy dreams,

theBUSTER, Ms. Persephone, & Ms.Bailey Blue

First Frost

It's here. It's real. It's cold.



Makes ya want to eat raw meat and howl!


I LOVE Autumn! Lots of new scents in the air...little animals foraging...stuff keeling over dead everywhere. Makes a dog feel alive!



Milkweed pods! One of my very favorite things. Crunchy, messy, and good for the gums!



Frost on my Wilson! There's nothing like the taste of a cold, wet Wilson. And it splits in two much easier.



Frosted hosta--what a wonderful place to lift my leg!




And formations of Canadian Honkers carpet-bombing unsuspecting humans from a thousand feet up! It stimulates the imagination.



Miss Persephone shuffles about unamused.



Sumac! Nothing gets redder, except for Mom when she catches me grabbing a loaf of fresh bread off the stove!



Ms. Blue quietly rips the flesh off a coatimundi. She has talent.





A sugar maple blushes in front of the art school...



Ms. B. settles in for an autumnal power-nap...



Bittersweet berries turn bright orange and red, cracking with the frost.




And I, Buster the Wonder Dog, contemplate the wonders of Nature and my general good fortune to be a part of it. Last night, the Dad-Lackey took me for a walk, and I quickly detected the scent of VERMIN! With a single-minded intensity, I tracked the vile creature, never lifting my eyes from the ground. It was my destiny to find it, destroy it, and save Western Civilization! Unfortunately, my human servant caught sight of something galloping toward us but failed to warn me. He watched as Ms. Fox sat down fifteen feet away from my snuffling snout, cocked her head to one side, and observed me with detached curiosity. At length, she cocked her head to the other side, nodded sadly, and trotted off. I heard this second-hand, as I was busy tracking a fox. Dad said she was one hot young lady with a beautiful, bushy tail, and she was trying to flirt with me. I'll never know.

Ah, autumn!

G'night,

Buster

Season's End: Farewell to the Pond

Welllllll it's that time again... autumn in New England -- one last burst of colorful turbo energy flying around the pond. Every year about this time the humomm and dad go around and put everything away so the pond can take a rest for the winter. The boats come out of the water ------>

We don't quite understand why...we just know that it's too cold to swim and the pipes need to not have water in them.
and the dock needs to come out of the water too and take a nap until spring.
Oh yes and let's not forget the trees -- they get all warm and colorful -- and lose their leaves.

all over the flower gardens. The humomm says it's a colorful quilt of leaves, so the flowers can snooze until spring. We'll be back to see them.....bye lake, bye flowers....bye paddle boat.
Heavy sigh..........

zZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

On our way home we stopped at a farm stand and the humomm was all excited to see that they had swan gourds..... very strange gourds that have longy necks and a head like a swan. Of course they also had pumpkins (my favorite pie) so we got to pick some and bring them to our house.

We just thought everyone would like to see all the swan gourds tackling the pumpkins!

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

OH NO.... I've gotta get home and find all of my Wilsons. I don't want the leaves to cover them all up -- I need to find them before the snows come -- they'll be soooooo very cold. More to come on the search......and also more on where are all the Wilsons.

∆∆∆∆∆

So HAPPY AUTUMN/FALL to all our buddies. If you don't have orange and red trees at your house take a ride up to the mountains. This will be one very colorful weekend up this way.

Enjoy,
theBUSTER, reporting to you from the North Country..... soon to be under snow!

P.S. this little May flower is sooooo confused!! Check out the red leaf sitting next to it. I told it bye bye....see you in the spring!

∆

Le Boeuf Café en face de l'étang

Mesdames et Messieurs --






Ici Bailey Blue à votre service ce soir, Maître d' au Boeuf Café.

Nos offres de ce soir sont ...

Bien sûr!

Le boeuf cru!

Please note the delicate elegance with which I remove all meat and marrow from the beef-bone so kindly donated by my human wait-staff. The place-settings are flawless, and I have been properly seated by my gentleman companion. Is my emerald nose-wrap not stunning?

By contrast, my male companion, Mons. leBuster, is truly a work-in-progress. His manners need some fine-tuning, but I will work on that. He entered my establishment muttering that he would not be caught dead with a luminescent, snot-green nose-halter, but after seeing the main course, he stopped complaining and set to work.

He IS making adequate progress, no?

Meilleurs souhaits,



Bailey Blue

Dearest friends:

Persephone at the keyboard tonight, slowly plodding along the QWERTY line (I can press all of them at once, but it's terribly difficult to separate Q from W if one does not have opposable thumbs) because HER LADYSHIP deigns not to assist us in our blogging. She is cemented to her white-hot Macintosh updating her BLACKBOARD account for her art students. Damn.




Maybe some of our friends in the bloggenwelt might assist us in nagging her nibs into assisting her poor, unattended Irish peasant dogs in managing this horrid keyboard and keeping our buddies up-to-date on all the exciting trouble we've been into.

In the meantime, since it's relatively easy to press the "upload image" button, I shall share several pictures to describe the state of Persephone's Garden and the effect that the milestone we reached today (indeed, the Autumnal Equinox in the Northern Hemisphere) will have upon it. I must soon return to the Underworld. Hades, pomegranates, raging Demeter, ah...the Drama!

My Morning Glories are still blooming!



Still, the trees behind them are turning yellow.



My Elephant-Ear is HUMONGOUS!



The Buzzy-Bees are busy foraging...not much time left.



Up North, my Loon is emptying the pond of trout. Did you know that when loons cruise at flank speed, they raise their front-end like little tugboats and drop their tushes?

One last image. Scene: The Boneyard Pool of the Farmington River in Connecticut. Rising trout at dusk.

Dad thinks this is ineffably beautiful, but he's pretty weird anyway.

Okay, Buster says it's naptime!



TTFN,

Persephone

My Magical Green Orb -- by Buster

Dear friends:

It's been much too long since I attended to my blog--mainly because my normally robust powers of persuasion have failed (once again) to convince my female human lackey (the one with ten fingers and the ability to press one key at a time) to help me with my posts. Please accept my sincerest apologies and help me to nag her eminence into being a little more punctual!



There's lots of news to share, but I need to pry the girl away from her lesson plans and her accursed, sleek, flashin'-hot new silver Macintosh laptop! You'd think she'd be spending ALL her time helping me with this blog. Humans have no sense of priorities!

Life would have been relatively normal, prosaic, and almost routine, had it not been for the recent arrival of the GREEN ORB FROM THE NETHER REGIONS!

A singularly vile creature, and I will destroy it.

Observe:

The Day of Reckoning will come! Any suggestions on how to penetrate its thick hide so I can reduce its horrid little noisemaker to its constituent fundamental particles?

There's much to share...tales of blueberries and bears...the tunnel to Oz...the elegant excavation skills of my beloved Lucia...I NEED MY STENOGRAPHER!

Please help me talk my Mom into helping me. This business of trying to maintain communication with the Known Universe of canines and humans without the benefit of fingers or a hyoid bone is vastly overrated!

Your faithful correspondent,

Buster