Post 652: Tomorrow’s the day!

Tomorrow, Ms. Zulu talks with Andy and Dougy about being cats. Anarette and I have seen the questions for this interview and the one Andy and Dougy do with Ms. Zulu to find out what it’s like to be a dog.  The second interview will come out at the end of the week — we’ll let you know exactly when later! We know you will be entertained by both and won’t want to miss either interview!

Andy has a new respect for dogs, thanks to the interview with Ms. Zulu!

Andy has a new respect for dogs, thanks to the interview with Ms. Zulu! Even he was surprised how much he liked Ms. Zulu.

Dougy wonders if Ms. Zulu will come for a viosit or if they will just have to settle for Skype visits. He thinks Ms. Zulu is a lot of fun!

Dougy wonders if Ms. Zulu will come for a visit or if they will just have to settle for Skype visits. He thinks Ms. Zulu is a lot of fun!

We are really excited about these interviews because Ms. Zulu and Andy and Dougy ask provocative, very pointed questions about wet dog smell and herding cats, for example. They may be cute, but our dog and cats don’t hold anything back!

Ms. Zulu, preparing to set up the Skype connection.

Ms. Zulu, preparing to set up the Skype connection. (Aren’t her ears great!?)

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Post 615: ghost dogs

A family without pets is a sad family. A family with pets eventually learns sadness. That’s the way it is.

Two little dogs joined my family when it was just my mother, father, and Marijean. I don’t think anyone else in the family knew these dogs except by their rare photos and sad, short stories.

Jock MacTavish and Marijean

Jock MacTavish and Marijean.

Jock was a Scottish terrier, as you can see, a breed popular in the 1930s when Franklin Roosevelt famously had Fala. My mother, always proud of her 100% Scottish heritage — she was the only child of two Scottish immigrants — gravitated naturally toward this breed, and she talked my father into getting one. It probably was their major expense of the year.

Jock was like all terriers. High energy, playful, needed lots and lots of play time. His favorite thing was to play in the snow, something he did one day till he had a total collapse, and died.

=(!)=

Topsy and Marijean

Topsy and Marijean.

I think this is the sweetest photo of my sister! The little guy is Topsy, I think. I wasn’t coming around for at least eight more years, so this is just another ghost dog to me. I’m not sure I got  its name right.

Topsy

Topsy in Gram’s living room, all dressed up.

Topsy also lived a short life. As I understand it, he (or she?) died of distemper. There would be no more pets till my grandmother got Laddie in 1948.

=(!)=

Technically, Laddie wasn’t “our” dog, but Gram had no problem sharing him with us, as if any dog could be kept away from four young children!

Laddie didn't have to protect me from my brother and sister. At least that's their story and they stick by it!

Laddie didn’t have to protect me from my brother and sister. At least that’s their story and they stick by it!

Laddie took it on himself to be my personal body guard,  letting no one get close to me except family until given the permission to let them by. Laddie used to eat at Gram’s, run up to our house and spend part of the day in hopes of someone spilling milk or dropping him a tasty treat off the table. He was a good boy, and he lived to old age.