Happy St Patty's Day from the Old Sod of Cheshire-on-Quinnipiac, in the Land of the Algonquian Bards!  I, Bailey, am honoring the day with a Don O'Ho-style Shamrock Lei.  The style was perfected by Sean O'Kitsch during a performance at Foxwoods Casino.

Buster, having imbibed an adequate supply of the Nectar of the Gods, is busy cleaning his ample muzzle.

And in the spirit of Green Things, let me introduce Buster's new buddies--the Wood Ducks!

These little guys are pure emerald, with flashes of orange, white, and grey.  Like the Wee Ones took out a paintbrush and designed a duck, just to be pretty.

Cheers,

Bailey

 

We shall not cease from exploration, and the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.

T. S. Eliot

Hi, folks!  Buster, the Chronicler of New Lands, at your service, with an account of an extraordinary find:  a new world right in my back yard!

I was innocently walking down the street with my faithful manservant, seeking the usual three hundred places to leave my autograph for adoring fans, when we came upon a sign...

Beyond the sign lay a path.  It had not been there before.  So I decided that this was an opportunity to display decisive leadership!  I began towing my reluctant valet forward to see where it led.

Someone had placed markers along the route.  Markers!  Plainly, for the purpose of Marking!  I set to work!

The trail soon reached a river.  Perhaps the Styx?  It did look a little gloomy!

 

There were concrete structures placed here and there.  I surmised that these liths must be either objects of aboriginal worship or perhaps the  Tomb of the Unknown Terrier!

My lackey muttered something about sitting down, and I assured him that such an act would be viewed as sacrilege by the natives.

We set off again and followed the river, rather like Dr. David Livingstone's search for the ultimate source of the Nile.   

U

I do confess, it turned out to be a surprisingly beautiful river!  My squire suggested that this might be the legendary Quinnipiac, named after a now-extinct tribe of the Algonquian people.  The name itself means “original people,” and they inhabited the Wampanoki or “Dawnland.”

I summoned my manservant to find the courage to go further.

Undiscovered species of lichen beckoned.  The lackey scribbled in his notebook, and I urged him forward.

Hmmmmmm....  Another sign!  Remarkably, it must have been constructed by the same tribe that built the first. 

I think we have discovered the mythical civilization of Terrier Incognita Australis!  I shall mark the occasion and plant the flag for Queen and Country!

Plainly, this appears to be an advanced civilization.  Their dwellings bear a remarkable resemblance to those of civilized people!

Strangely, the trip home took all of five minutes!  I can only conclude that we felicitously came upon a rare, space-time anomaly--a Black Hole--and transported ourselves across the Known Universe to our very own back door!  Quantum Entanglement.  Superposition of States.  I will leave the details to Her Majesty's Mathematicians to explain for future generations...

Your faithful correspondent,

Buster
 

My Mysterious Journey through Quinnipiac Gorge -- by Buster

Hey, Scouts--it's Buster, the Ultimate Canine Explorer--back again

with another small account of a routine journey to the far ends of the earth!

Next to the Norway Maelstrom and the Pillars of Hercules, my favorite

spot for an afternoon exploration is Quinnipiac Gorge.  All I need is my

crazed human-with-Y-chromosome, and we're off!  Maybe we'll see

some giant ground sloths or wooly mastiffs....

I'll bet a wooly mastiff ripped this tree down!  I hear that they're not

especially well-mannered creatures...

Ah--the Fabled Upside-Downtree of Quinnipiac.

Home of the mythical Rightside-Up Sloth.

And the Den of the Dreaded Cave Terrier!

I must be brave.

In the Land of Siltstone, one must be cautious.  I heard that three airedales got
buried under forty feet of this stuff when the cliff collapsed, and it took them
four whole minutes to dig themselves out!

Take THAT, vile siltstone !

A bubbling spring...  why does the sound of this make me want to raise my leg?

And we come to the infamous Rottweiler Rapids!



There used to be an old railroad bridge here--until a large Rottweiler
bit a chunk out of the stone foundation and the bridge was swept downstream.

Darn, I'm thirsty!  A pint of Guinness would sure be nice!



I think I'll just sit here and imagine that the river is flowing with the Nectar of Celtic
Mother Goddesses...although a Harps Lager would do almost as well...

Yes--HEED THE SIGN !

More later.  I think my next trip will be to Tristan da Cunha.  Or maybe
St James Gate...

Cheers,

Buster
 

The Official Gracie Album--Collect the Whole Set! or Here Come da Snow!

Here Come da Snow

By Ms. Grrracie the Grrrreat

They say the snow will finally come to my house.  Ms. Blue said it's about time. Ms. Blue also said

that this was the first winter in all her 11.5 years that we didn't get "SNOW".

  Said it's almost March and nothing but water fell out of the sky.  We take our snowy weather

very seriously ya know.  I went to sleep last night and this is what I dreamt about it......

 

I saw white stuff falling from the sky onto the ground and it was all WHITE!!!  

CLEAN WHITE SNOW!

WoW!!  dreams are so vivid....

I  looked all over for my stick... I had it the day before when  the sun was out and shining....

The stick was hiding under the little flakes of  

REAL 

SNOW!

I stuck my nose down into the SNOW and found the stick.  I knew I had left

it somewhere down there.

 

Now I need to find a place where I can chew on this stick...this SNOW stuff is

a little chilly to be laying down in.

 

Uh.....yOU wHO!!! anybody in there?  I want to come in now!!!!

 

I hear a voice far away....

"WAKEY! WAKEY! Ms Grrrracie the Grrreat.... Time to go out."

Hmmm,  today is becoming curiouser and curiouser.

It seems that dreams aren't quite real.....now where did I

put all that snow again?

It was here....now it's just a little soggy out and the mud is

here and my feet are not snowy...

IT WAS ONLY A DREAM?**

  

Ms. Grrrracie the Grrrreat, blushing in great embarrassment.

&

Ms. Blue still waiting to head plow into a good snow drift.

&

theBUSTER, kinda sad the snows just didn't pan out.

&

Ms.Persephone, snuggled in the couch swiping her paw on her head saying,

"Phew, missed another one!  HeeHee!"

**Ms. Grracie the Grrreat has a very active inner life....more to come.

The Unbearable Lightness of Being Buster

Hi, friends--It's Gracie!  Today, Buster decided he would take flying lessons.  He gave me the honor of being his Air Traffic Controller!


Let's look:

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

And here I am, talking him down!  Personally, I give him a 4.5 for Technical Merit and a 6.0 for Artistic Impression!  I do like the positive dihedral effect with the ears...

Your friend,

Gracie

 

Okay--there's absolutely NO excuse for failure to keep up with important correspondence.  Bailey here.  Please find a way to forgive me.  I have been, well, indisposed.

As you can see, I have been fitted with a humiliating Clown-Suit, and I have been subjected to the most unnerving harassment by my human tormentors.

It seems that Doctor Joe had to remove a lump from my Nether regions, and because I am a terrier, those blessed primates don't trust me to leave well-enough alone!

Gracie, of course, slithered around with her big brown eyes, looking like a canine Shirley Temple.  She mocks me.
 

Buster's on a chewing-spree, but we shall not speak of that.  Suffice it to say that Gracie has picked up all his annoying habits and a few of her own.  Such as an alarmingly deep-throated bark and a tendency to go airborne without warning.  

I really MUST take some photos and write more.  In the meantime, I shall leave you with a picture of Friday night's sunset, as seen from the University of Hartford.  I'm doing post-grad work in bedding evisceration and fiberfill mastication there.

Your almost-faithful correspondent,

Bailey



 

The Aftermath: 7 1/2 Days of Pleistocene Existence come to an end!

Your buddy Buster here:  Good News!  The Wolves are no longer at the door!  After seven and a half days of living like, well, a wolf, the power came back on in the middle of the night last night.  I must say, this was a pretty humbling experience! 

Let me introduce my newest, BEST friend, Snuffles the Kerry-Warmer!  He sputters and purrs for about 3-4 hours at a time, providing Bailey and Gracie and Yours Truly with real warmth from a small electric heater.  After that time, our human lackey gets up in the middle of the night and feeds him.

Snuffles had to be purloined from the People's Republic of Rhode Island, since none of his kind remained in Connecticut.  I'd like to be that popular!

Miss Bailey really appreciates being warm.  She's getting on into her Prime-Diva years, and she likes to curl up beside the electric heater by the window and just soak it up.

Now that the furnace (and everything else) is running again, our pack of not-so-dire wolves has ventured out onto the Tundra to survey the damage and chase small, furry creatures.

Gracie has absconded with MY squeaky tennis ball...

 

Miss Bailey stays close to the noonday sun!

And what could be better than to engage my trusty side-kick, Gracie in a good old-fashioned Bark-Fest?

Miss Bailey indulges in her patented, ritual back-scratch.

Today's by-word?  Canis Familiaris !  With the emphasis on the adjective!  I like being domestic!  Warmth.  Regular meals.  Dutiful human servants.  It's not a bad life!  How did our lupine ancestors ever manage?

Your friend,

Buster

Dispatches from Arborgeddon--by Buster

There was an early snowstorm in New England this week.  The guy on the radio says that sixteen inches of snow hit the trees before the leaves had fallen, and promptly the trees came down.  I think I'll take a look....

Hmmmm....    Bamboo patch carpet-bombed.  Not a good sign!

Let's walk down the street!

Now I know why the power's out and mom can't make her hot cocoa....

This explains the loud cracking sounds all night!

I tell you, this is not looking very promising!

Ya know, I think we're going to be here for awhile!

Gracie tells me we'll be without electricity and heat for awhile; just like in the Old Days, when wolves howled and lived by their wits!

Postscript:

Well, it's been a full week with no electricity, no heat, no internet.  Dad's posting this from his University for us.  I'm tired of wolfdom.  I'm bored.  I want a hot pizza dinner and a bath!  Send help!

Your Born-Again DOMESTIC canine friend,

Buster