My neighbor said he’d put up the bird feeder outside my window for my boys, and, nice guy that he is, he did just that!
It takes birds a bit of time to find the feeder in the first place, then determine that it is safe to come in to feed.
Andy waits for those fat, juicy tidbits to fly in!
You wouldn’t think having a big black kitty staring at you from the inside of the window would inspire confidence, yet the birdies throw caution to the wind and fly in for a little treat.
Andy will be there…!
Dr. Hand formed a boxing club for boys in the early 1920s. They met at the BPOE hall just north of the then-new post office. People who’ve lived here very long probably know the exact room I mean.
The boys met at the BPOE club next to the new post office.
People who’ve lived here very long probably remember this room.
In all likelihood all people in this photo now are dead. My father was a wee rascal in this photo, perhaps seven or eight years old. He died on Election Day 2008 at age 92.
I knew some of them as old guys. One was my dentist. Another was my neighbor up the block. Both were fine fellows, well-regarded in the community.
Dr. Hand is the fellow standing, bow tie, white shirt, boxing gloves, at the extreme left.
My Dad is the little guy at the other end of the photo, wearing bib overalls.
Dad’s in the middle. Perhaps you can see him a bit better here.
Dad came into this photo late in life. One of the surviving people in it found it in his photos and had enlargements made for each of those men still alive at the time.
Dad prized the photo though he admitted he didn’t last long in boxing. “I had one match,” he said, “but I didn’t like getting hit.” LOL! He quit, of course.
On October 13, 1978, Dad had a retirement dinner from a lifetime in the police department in the same BPOE hall. I didn’t want to go since I didn’t really know many of the people who’d be there, but I survived. Now, of course, I’m glad I went, mostly because it was that important to Dad.
There is an Eastern European treat commonly found around this area, the cabbageburger.
Not much to a cabbageburger: browned ground beef, julienned cabbage, julienned onion, salt, pepper, and spices as preferred. I add ground ginger, paprika, and Worcestershire sauce. Cook this down to an al dente stage, and stuff into a lump of raw bread dough. Bake, eat!
Simple!
I decided to make cabbageburgers for the second time in twenty years. Before I used bread dough I made from scratch. This time, I experimented with commercially available frozen raw bread dough. Should have been simpler that way.
They taste pretty much like they look!
Done correctly, they look like hamburger buns that haven’t been sliced open.The first time I made them, they looked like they were supposed to. These, erm, I need a dog.
Dear, dear me! I guess I won’t be serving these to company! Or me.
I gathered the trash to put out this morning. I don’t like to put it out too early because it might attract critters or too late because it might get missed by the trash collection, which is very early in the morning on Fridays.
When I opened the door, around 3:15 AM, to toss the trash to the curb, I noticed we’d had a night visitor.
Say what?! Puma? Coyote?
No, nothing so dramatic. From the size, it had to be one of the feral cats in the neighborhood.
The snow, while not much, was sufficient to capture the evidence of a night visitor.
Dougy makes his escape.
That Dougy! Of course he had to slip past me while I took the photo of the pawprints!
There I stood, in a knit shirt, walking shorts, barefoot and my kitty’s making an escape into the bitter cold!
I reached down and put my hand around Dougy’s middle. “OK, snoopy, you’d better come in! It’s much too cold out here for a house kitty. Or me!”
Dougy and Andy patiently answer Benji’s questions. He’s a puppy, you know!
Benji has normal puppy curiosity about cats. I don’t know if he’s met any in real life, so talking with Andy and Dougy may well prepare him for such an encounter.
Without further ado, here’s PART II of the Interview ~ Benji dogs my cats:
Dougy notices Andy’s awfully quiet.
“Suspicious! And I should know. I’m a cat.”
Well, Andy’s no more suspicious than usual.
Trust me! Really! No, seriously! He’s a good boy!
Andy rummages through the trash.
Isn’t this what kitties do?
Dougy guesses right: Andy’s up to something.
Dougy was curious, of course. The Facebook question was “What breed of dog are you?”
“Hee! Hee! I’m a cat! But I’ll see what the site tells me I really am,” chortled Doggy, er, Dougy.
“Well, at least I’m a cute doggy,” he thought, and he agreed 100% that he is 99% nice, 95% spontaneous, and 95% a perfectionist.
Woof!
Andy and Dougy are cat-wise in many ways, but they know very little about dogs. Earlier Q&A sessions with Ms. Zulu, Anarette’s beautiful border collie, gave insights into what cats and dogs think about each other.
Nonetheless, when the news about Benji appeared in a recent blog post, the boys were incredulous. Ms. Zulu, clearly an exceptional dog by cat standards, began to make sense to the boys once they heard her answers to their (frankly, blunt) questions.
Now, here’s this new pooch! Oh, he’s a cutey, posed there with his toy, but that might be a diversion to make cats forget he’s, erm, “a doggy”!
“Let’s contact Anarette” Doug (the human one) suggested. “You want to know about this Benji, and I bet you’ll find out he’s no ringer. What do you say, Andy? Dougy? OK!?”
The boys agreed it would be worth a try, though they aren’t sure if they can resist puppy breath, which everyone knows is intoxicating!
“I like to be silly!”
Let the Q&A’s begin:
A: We’ve heard puppies are like kittens, only doggier. What truth is there to that?
D: Were you at the shelter long before Anarette found you? Were you frightened or were you with other doggies, maybe even litter mates? You know Andy and I are litter mates, and we spent time at the veterinarian’s with our mother and another brother and sister. Our brother and sister went to South Dakota, where they hate each other. Andy and I occasionally squabble, but mostly we are best buddies as well as brothers. Do you have any brothers and sisters?
B: I was there for about five days. Luckily I was with my five brothers and sisters and I was the first to go to my forever home.
A: Does Ms. Zulu like you? I mean, she’s a herding dog by nature, and puppies are like cats: They just resist herding! Does she try to keep you in line?
B: Ms. Zulu likes me if I don’t nibble on her, then she wants to retreat. Unfortunately she had an ACL repair and fractured her tibia so she is not allowed to play at all for at least four weeks. I cannot imagine life without play. Maybe your readers can send lots of healing wishes to Ms. Zulu; I think that would help her.
B: Mmm, I have to think about that…. I like to do that before I start on something. And you want to know a secret? If you sit pretty and put on your cute face, you may get a treat. It has worked for me many times already.
D: Be that as it may, Benji, we can’t help but notice how handsome your coat is. Brindle, isn’t it? And that’s the prettiest white cross on your chest! Even a cat can see you are, erm, adorable. Does your human encourage this?
B: I hear that a lot; that I am adorable. As I mentioned, this works in my favor. And yes, my coat is called brindle; not sure who I got it from. Herbert also mentioned the cross. Anarette told me that it is an angel. I am not sure what angels are though, but it must be good because I get lots of hugs and scratches when she says it.
A: You look like you are as big as Dougy and I are. How big will you grow up to be?
B: I was told that I may grow up to about 70 or 80 lbs. I am around 11 lbs now. I try to look bigger than I am. I think I succeeded in the picture you have of me. I want to play soccer and hope to attract a soccer contract. Anarette tells me I can become a movie star with my pretty face.
“I caught some prey!”
D: I think of Benji as a small long-haired rat-looking doggy, which certainly not what you look like! Why is your name Benji? Is it a family name? Is it short for Benjamin?
B: Excuse me I am not a rat, although I am sure there are very nice rats out there. They get such a bad rep. Anyway, you guessed right, my name is short for Benjamin. My full name is Benjamin Griz de Tiger. Griz was my shelter name. No idea why; maybe they thought I was a grizzly bear. But the Tiger name is because of my stripes and the way I follow toys in the chase game and walk in tall grass.
B: I love to climb the boulders that are in my backyard. I make it look easy, but don’t be fooled; these boulders are humongous. It even took me a couple of tries before I got the hang of it. I think I am a mountain lion.
What is your favorite game? Favorite food? Are you spoiled or are you a good doggy?
“I made my first cave!
Of course, once you catch prey you have to store it somewhere. The two-legged beings seem to store it in a fridge, but I followed my instincts and made a cave.”
D: Shhh! Be nice, Andrew! He’s not spoiled, he’s just a wee one, so don’t be mean to him…just yet! (Once he’s full grown, we can revisit this policy!)
A: I’m sorry, Benji! I just remember a big dog at the veterinarian’s that was not nice to me. I suspect you’d give me a big lick across the face if I were where you are. Would you chase cats?
B: I will just pretend not to have heard the not so nice part Andy said. I had not seen cats yet, until you two called! I might chase you, but then again I might not. Wait, Anarette says something… Oh, she tells me that I probably wouldn’t. I tend to sit down when I’m faced with a new situation. I seem to contemplate a lot (remember the laid-back look trick!).
D: Have you chased cats? Mailmen? Rabbits? Anything else?
B: What are rabbits? Mailmen are nice, they bring toys!
A: Well, it seems like we’ve heard some really unfair and slanderous things about doggies because we were lead to believe all doggies chased things and chewed them up. Of course, we heard that from another cat. Hmmm!
B: Don’t believe everything you hear or read. Just observe it with your own eyes first.
Woof! Woof! Remember how Benji said he loves to play the chase game?!
D: Our favorite toy resembles a bird. Our favorite fun activity besides playing with our favorite toy and eating and sleeping and taking cat baths is watching birds out the back window. What’s your favorite activity? Is it naughty or nice? (Our favorite activities are often “naughty”, according to our human, but he isn’t a cat, eh?!)
B: I love all kinds of toys, but the ones where food rolls out are the most fun. Do you have any food for me? I can sit and look adorable if that helps.
A: How old are you?
B: About nine weeks and counting.
D: Did you cry when you first moved to live with Anarette and Ms. Zulu or were you a big boy?
B: I only cried for a bit the first night. After Zoe gave me Ducky to keep me company, I was fine. She is my big sister and said she did not need Ducky as much as I need him. I love Ducky. He does not mind that my teeth are sharp. Humans do though; they are so sensitive. They yelp when I barely touch them with my teeth. Would you mind? Let me try. Oh, you don’t want me to?
A: Well, that answers a lot of our questions, but we will be watching you….!
B: And I will watch you! And remember, I will get a lot bigger!
D: Andy! What did I tell you about being nice to Benji! He’s just a puppy, and he seems like a pretty nice one at that.
B: Wooff! Wooff! (that translates into I agree in Benjinees)
It looks like we might be ready to post the first part of the Benji story tomorrow. Anarette sent me a few new photos (really cute!) and I’ll marry them to the text already done.
In the meantime, what does Benji the pup really love doing? Well, the chase game for one thing.
“Woof! Woof!” Benji loves to play the chase game!
Benji’s older doggy companion, Ms. Zulu, is recovering from surgery on her leg, so she can’t join him just yet, but I bet the two of them will have great fun together once she is healed and ready for rigorous fun again. She’s a herding dog, after all!
We had a small amount of snow here yesterday. It was bitter cold, but I only had to go out once to pick up Andy’s medicine refill and some kitty treats.
The little bugger managed to avoid his medicine last night, so, of course, he wasn’t a good boy. Because he wasn’t a good boy, he didn’t get any kitty treats yesterday! (Don’t feel sorry for him. He was a bad boy, after all.)
Andy’s “medicine face”….