I don’t know how much more of this wildlife – and Momma’s hysteria – I can take.  Already this spring we have been terrorized (or bullied as I prefer to call it) by geese, fox, eagles and reports of a giant bear.  Last week we had a new visitor – a snapping turtle!

The appearance of the turtle in itself was not so bad, but as is often the case with us, it turned into quite the debacle.  We first saw the turtle in the morning, hunkered down in the middle of our backyard.  I went over to check it out, but stopped when Momma screamed (the thing was huge! and ugly!) and ordered me to get away.  She scooped me up and took me to the front yard so I could go about my business.

Momma suspected the creature was a snapping turtle, so she trekked outback again (without the little Aussie) and “snapped” a picture –

Then she went back in the house and Googled “turtle with a long spiky tail” and “turtle with a ridged shell.”  Based on her research she determined it was indeed a snapper and could be dangerous.  Now she could tell her friends all about it.

Later, in the afternoon, Momma took me outside for a little ball playtime.  Here I am with my big orange ball on my way to the backyard!

By now, Momma’s mind was on other things like her social life, so she momentarily forgot about the giant prehistoric creature in our yard.  On our way back to the house, I was in the lead, as usual (big ball in my mouth), and Momma stopped to do a little weeding along the path.  (She fancies herself a gardener because she picks a couple of weeds each day.)  Just as she was about to pull that second weed, Momma realized to her horror that her hand was right next to the giant snapper!

As you can imagine, she nearly fainted.  She screamed and stumbled backwards, falling over right next to the giant turtle.  Luckily, I was so frightened by the commotion that I stood frozen in place – and away from harm – and watched as Momma struggled wildly to get back on her feet.

Finally, having determined that she wasn’t missing any digits and that the turtle wasn’t chasing us (it was still busy laying eggs), Momma picked up my ball and led me back to the safety of the house.  Although she was quite shaken by her close encounter with the snapper, she seemed to recover rather quickly (I think the wine may have helped – just woofin’).  As for me, I am pretty sure I’m suffering from PSTD (Paws Traumatic Stress Disorder).

Lina, Still in Shock

WOOFDA!

It took a while with our late spring, but our dock and boat lift are finally in!  Question:  how many of you think that Momma actually hired Donkey Docks for their expertise?

She wasn’t home when they came by this year, but her boarding pal, Lori, was at our house (Momma suspected she knew they were coming) and snapped this shot.  Momma vows never to leave home again.  And I want to be home, too, because Nate – the one with the six-pack abs – usually brings his adorable dogs, Leroy and Leila, along to play with me!

Lina, Hee Haw!

WOOFDA!

I don’t know what’s going on, but my world just got a whole lot scarier.  I have never seen more wildlife (and I’m not just talking about Momma’s behavior), at “The Point” than this year.  Is it because we are gone so much that the critters think they own the place?  Or global warming?  (Momma:  “Don’t be ridiculous, Lina.”)  In any case, I’m not happy and neither is Momma.

The Geese

First of all, our place is overrun with geese.  They are everywhere!

And they honk and growl.  I’m not kidding you – Google it.  One day I was trying to go potty “outback” (like all good Aussies) by the lake, but the geese were making such a ruckus that Momma, concerned for our safety, took me to the front yard.  Guess what?

There were also two humongous honkers glaring at us over there.  They have even been known to station themselves on top of our house.

Momma and I were cowed – and I imagine they will be next – for awhile, but finally Momma decided she had had enough.  (“I will not be held hostage in my own house by some wild geese, Lina.”)  Battle ready, she marched right down to the lake, pulled the paddle board into the water and hopped on.  The usual giant five geese – Momma had come to think of them as our very own “Big Five” as though we were on safari – were circling, but Momma charged right into their midst.

As you might expect, the geese took flight – I’m thinking they recognized a crazy person when they saw one.  A few days later, Lori, a friend who Momma thinks is always trying to upstage her, calmly paddled by the end of our point and found their nest.  Momma, who wouldn’t dream of getting close to a goose nest, retorted smartly, “Oh, yes, I see those every year.”

The Foxes

The geese were the noisiest of our visitors, but not the most unsettling.  That award goes to the foxes.  Now I know that they allegedly don’t attack little dogs, but what if they are starving?  Or deranged?  Or cornered?  Just like Fox News, I don’t trust them.

Actually the fox was the first animal we spotted (on the lake and on our back yard) upon our return from Florida in April.  And when you see these pictures you’ll know why you shouldn’t be in Minni in April –

Several weeks later, when the snow had finally melted and we had let our guard down (Momma was pretty sure the only way a fox could get to our house was via the frozen lake – go figure), one appeared out of nowhere on our deck.  Momma captured a few shots as the fox strolled around and jumped into the yard.

I have to admit the audacity of this fox unnerved us.  We were beginning to feel unsafe everywhere – especially after we saw the BIG GRAY CAT FROM HELL on our front step the next day.  Momma tried to act brave after that when taking me out, but I wasn’t fooled.  And I really didn’t think that her yelling “scram” to scare off the animals struck terror in their hearts.  But what was I going to do – go potty in the house?  (Momma:  “No comment, Lina.”)

The Eagles  

It doesn’t end with geese and fox and the big gray cat either.  Our resident eagles are back where, as usual, they are (I’m pretty sure) keeping an eagle eye out for me.  I’m wondering – would it kill us to stay off the board when they’re around?

The Bear!

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any worse, it did.  While Momma and I were up at the cabin this past weekend, we received a text from Nanny Becky saying that a bear had been sighted a couple miles north of our house.  Here are the photos from the Burnsville police advisory.  Police advisory?

After this new horrific development, we were a little apprehensive about returning home.  In fact, Momma even thought briefly about moving, but then she had a better idea.  This morning she ordered an “alarm” bell from Amazon, “perfect for those that are bed ridden or need help.”  I feel a lot safer now.

LINA, Bear Bait?

WOOFDA!

The other day I was roaming around looking for something to do when I came across Momma watching Barbara Bush’s funeral on TV.  She was totally engrossed in the service, sometimes laughing, sometimes crying.  I could sense this meant a lot to Momma, so without even being asked, I got in the down position and watched it with her.

Now, as many of you know, I’m not a Republican, but by the end of the program, I was a big Bar (as those of us in the know call her) fan.  She was the pillar of her family, being both fierce and loving.  Best of all though, Bar loved books and she loved dogs.  In fact, her dog, Millie, had written a book back in 1990 which Bar had edited.

Despite my new found fondness and respect for Bar (and Millie), I have to admit I was a little jealous – and resentful – because I thought I was the original dog author.  If this was the same type of book (a whip-smart dog telling tails on her human and others with amazing wit and charm), I had competition.  And look at all the free publicity Millie had just gotten!

Momma was not exactly thrilled to hear the news either – she knew how difficult it was to get the word out about books.  For example, she had been trying forever to get Dana Perino to give Lina Unleashed a shoutout on “The Five” by tweeting solicitous comments about her dog, Jasper.  It hadn’t worked and she was now officially mad at Dana.  Maybe I can make a Democrat out of Momma yet.

Anyway, Momma and I were curious – and anxious – enough about Millie’s book to do some research.  After all, we didn’t want Millie to get all the glory – or all the sales!  Maybe the book wasn’t all it was cracked up (or open) to be.  In fact, we had both swung into full competitive mode!

First, Momma Googled Millie’s book and learned it was called, Millie’s Book.  (“Well, right there, Lina, you are a leg up on her.  I don’t think you would be an INDIE award finalist if you had simply called your book, Lina’s Book.“)  Speaking of which, I wonder if Millie’s Book won any awards.  Just woofin’!

Momma knew you couldn’t just judge a book by the cover, however, and she really did want to read Millie’s Book to see if (in her expert opinion), it was any good.  However, she balked when she saw the price!   The least expensive copy was $59.21 – and it was used – and probably all dog-eared.  Then she saw that the more expensive copies (they ranged all the way up to $993.33) were signed by both Barbara and Millie (“with a little fake blue paw print, Lina”).  For my part, I wondered why did Barbara sign the book if Millie was the true author?   Did Barbara perhaps collude with her to write the book?  Were the Russians involved?

Momma did read about Millie’s Book on Amazon, though, and learned that it was about Millie brushing elbows, uh, legs (as they cleverly put it) with heads of state and royalty.  Okay, granted that might be impressive, but could it really be more exciting than struggling to stay alive living with Momma?  Did Millie have to undergo horrific medical procedures every other day just so Barbara could visit a hunky vet?  Did she get dragged (illegally) across the beach to the Gulf of Mexico under cover of night?  Almost get arrested for trespassing on a vacant lot in Naples?  Speaking of which, did Millie have her own attorney on retainer like I do?  I think not.  So you be the judge of which doggie book might be more entertaining.

Just remember – you can still get my book for only $16.95!  There will be no insanely high upcharge for my pawdograph.  And – we are philanthropists, just like the Bushes – part of the proceeds will be donated to the Animal Humane Society!

With my acclaimed first book and working on a sequel …

Lina, Fiercely Defending My Territory!

WOOFDA!

Pawscript:  I think Momma is going to “bite” the bullet and buy Millie’s Book, no matter how much it costs or who wrote it!

When will I(!) be free to move about the cabin?

I have some additional trips under my collar since the last time I wrote.  First, there was the one from Florida to Minni.  If I never see another security line or airplane seat bottom, it’ll be too soon.

Upon arrival at the terminal in Ft. Myers (no small feat considering the transfer of Momma’s piles of luggage, plus me — stuffed into my tiny carrier — to the shuttle bus), Momma spotted two men in uniform.  They were standing around, doing nothing, and she asked them where Special Services was (so she could buy my “criminally high-priced ticket”).  And now that she thought about it, where were my frequent flyer miles?

Obviously annoyed by this interruption of their busy day, one of the uniforms flippantly informed her, “we don’t have one of those here — just go over to your airline.”  When we got to the Delta ticket counter (after standing in line for ten minutes), however, they told her to go to Special Services.  See what I mean about air travel?  And don’t forget, I’m imprisoned and being wheeled behind her every step of the way.

When we had finally checked in, gone outside for me and reached the bewildering maze of security lines, we found we had our own lane.  Now we’re talking, Momma thought, we’re in the fast lane!  Turned out, we had just entered the next ring of security hell.

First, TSA told us to wait for a special agent who would walk us through security.  When he finally showed up — twenty minutes later — he instructed Momma to take off her shoes, jacket and scarf.  I am frankly surprised he didn’t ask me to take off my fur coat and collar.

Next he told Momma to remove me from the carrier and carry me though the metal detector.  On the other side, he wanded her hands and informed her that he would have to go through all of her (and my) bags!  Momma, normally feisty, was so beaten down by now that she remained mute (and I remained mutt).   We watched in disbelief as the agent took everything out of Momma’s purse and tote and looked through every item (including her billfold), wanded them and then held the wand up to a computer screen after each scan.  Then he removed my little elephant (of course) toy from my carrier and did the same with it.

Momma, at this point, was fit to be tied (welcome to my world) and demanded to know what was going on.  The agent explained that they had to take extra precautions when police K-9s were present.  “Right, Lina, as with all things government, that makes perfect sense.  Since the dogs are on site sniffing for drugs and explosives, TSA has to do more searching, not less.”

Upon boarding, Momma was busy arranging her tote in the overhead bin and me under the seat (luckily she got that part right), when a self-important little jerk came up the aisle and told her she was in his seat.  Not willing to take any guff from anyone by now, Momma pointed to the little diagram under the overhead bin showing her seat letter next to the depiction of a flight attendant, and said, “I don’t think so.”  The little jerk then pushed passed us, plopped down and started scattering his stuff around.  Momma now noticed that he had usurped her space on the center console (this was an almost greater sin that trying to take her seat) and asked him to move his water bottle.  Where was she supposed to put her Prosecco, after all?  This was going to be a long flight.

The next day Momma was off on another trip — this time gallivanting with her girlfriends in Palm Springs.  One day Dr. Becca sent Momma some fun pictures of me, Winnie (Dr. Becca’s dog) and Spike.  She complained playfully that I (Lina) had stolen Winnie’s boyfriend, Spike.

That’s Spike in the middle!

This got Momma’s attention.  Spike (what kind of name is that for a dog anyway?) looked a little too “Hell’s Angel” for me to be hanging with.  And she let Becca know:  “You tell that little missy that she is too young for a boyfriend.  She is going to be grounded.”  Truth be woofed, I think Momma is jealous.  And after all, it wasn’t that long ago that she, herself, wasn’t above being a biker.

When Momma returned from “The Desert” (she had learned that all the cool people call it that), it was time to fly back to Florida.  Luckily, we sailed through security this time.  I was a little disappointed, though, not to see the police K-9s.  I always woof that I love a dog in uniform!

We are now home for my final week in the Sunshine State this season.  That means, of course, that I’ll be subject to yet another flight back to Minni.  That’s okay, though – I’ll be happy to be home and since Momma will soon be off on another trip, I plan to sneak away and see Spike!

Lina, Frequent Flyer and Biker Chick!

WOOFDA!

Pawscript:  HAPPY EASTER BUNNY DAY!

Yesterday, Momma and I got an email informing us that Lina Unleashed has been named a 2017 Foreword INDIES Book of the Year Awards Finalist!  Momma says yippie!  I say I worked like a dog on that book and this makes it all worthwhile!  Woofda!   We are both very proud and want to thank all of our loyal followers and everyone who bought the book – or may be thinking about it.  Momma, always the promoter, wants me to tell you that we still have a few copies left.  

Our publisher, Beaver’s Pond Press, has issued the following press release on our big news!

Press Release for Foreword Reviews Finalist Book Lina Unleashed

Sunshine Appearance

We’ve been busy.  First there was the pawdographing of Lina Unleashed at Sunshine Booksellers in February.  Apparently, our humiliating peddling of signs from building to building in the fashion of a door-to-door salesman, and other strong-leg tactics, paid off.  A bunch of people came and we sold twenty-seven books at the store, and a few later to others who even I (a natural herder) couldn’t corral for the event.

The day of the signing, we arrived early to set up my sign and put out the Unleashed Wine and dog bone cookies.

As people dutifully drifted in, Momma was front and center reviewing her notes and props.  Kind of last minute, she remembered that I was the author of the book  and asked Jane to keep me up front so she could introduce me.  (I think she also wanted her trained support animal by her side.)

By now, Momma had gotten quite nervous about her remarks.  She had Googled “how to do a book presentation,” and had been advised not to read them.  She had therefore memorized (ignoring the advice to also not do that) her “off-the-cuff” talk so she could appear relaxed and witty like Lorna Landvik, a Minnesota writer who is great with one-liners at signings.  The only problem was that Momma occasionally forgot where she was in her spontaneous speech, repeating some things and omitting others.  She nevertheless didn’t want to leave out some of her favorite anecdotes, so she sprinkled them into her narrative, whether they fit in or not.  (Meanwhile, I deftly worked the crowd, diverting attention from her lapses with face licks.)

Sensing restlessness, Momma looked around and noticed some shifting in chairs and sideways glances.  Sweating by now, she hurried through the rest of her remarks and practically speed-read a passage from my book.  (I think a simple “woof” would have done, but whatever.)  When she mercifully brought her presentation to a close, everyone applauded pawlightly – and reached for more wine.  Am I twenty-one in dog years yet?

Potty Problems

After the pawdographing (“That went pretty well, didn’t it, Lina?”), things went back to normal.  Which in our world means more of our never-ending vet visits.

Just when I thought maybe we could make it through the winter without me being poked and prodded, Momma decided that I needed to go in.  I had experienced a couple of tiny pee accidents.  Now, I don’t want to point any paws – but I do need to go out on a regular basis to do my business, if you know what I mean.  (Momma:  “Typical Democrat, Lina – always the victim.”)

Anyway, a couple of people had told Momma (based on her set of alternative facts), that I may have a UTI, so off to the vet we went.  It was a ruff morning since I had to “hold it” until 8:30 when the clinic opened.  Then they made Momma lead me around the clinic yard with the technician following behind and sliding a little pan under me every time it looked like I might squat.  You woof about your humiliation . . .

And, of course, it was all for nothing.  (Well, not exactly for nothing — it cost Momma $101.50 as she is fond of reminding me.)  I had no UTI, but they did find some fragmented crystals which they theorized could account for the problem.  Momma (once again consulting her vast store of medical knowledge) was not convinced and refused to buy the special dog food they recommended.  (“We have it in Minnesota, Lina, and we’re going home soon.”)  This morning, I had another little accident.  Just a thought, but maybe I should be on the special food?

The next night I had a new problem — I desperately had to poop in the middle of the night and let Momma know with my characteristic grunts.  Sensing urgency, she whisked me outside — twice.  It may have been because we were both terrified of stumbling onto that Burmese Python-eating alligator that had been spotted at Momma’s golf course, but I just couldn’t go.  Until we were safely inside, that is.  And not only did I make a mess during the night — I made another one the next morning — right after Momma had taken me out.

Guess who …

At that point, Momma put me on hamburger and rice.  It seemed to do the “trick” and I had no more diarrhea.  I also had no bowel movements for the next two days.  By the third, Momma was frantic and dragged me into the vet again.  I wonder if the same thing happened to her, would she bring herself in?  Just woofin’.

The exam?  Mortifying.  The diagnosis?  Nothing was wrong with me.  The bill?  $176.44.  The upshot?  I went home and took a perfectly good poop.  I wonder if I’ll ever get Momma trained.

Ready To Fly The “Friendly” Skies

Speaking of going home, we’ll be on our way to Minnesota again soon.  The only problem is the air travel hell we have to go through to get there.  I just hope that:

a) Momma doesn’t get dragged off the plane for some infraction;

b) I don’t have to sit next to a support peacock; and

c) I don’t end up in an overhead bin — or Japan.

Other than that, I’m looking forward to the trip.

Lina, Trying to Stay Regular and On Course!

WOOFDA!  Happy Spring!

In the unlikely event you haven’t heard, we have another book signing/pawdographing coming up!  Momma is in her usual frenzy to get people there so she can peddle Lina Unleashed.  She has even taken to calling this event the latest stop on Lina’s world book tour, as though I were Hillary Clinton hawking What Happened.  (Momma on that subject:  “That book could have been two words long, Lina — I Lost.”)  Trying to get the buzz going, she also refers to my book as a bestseller.  (“Everyone does it, Lina — it’s called puffing!”)

Soon after we arrived in Marco this year, Momma made the trek down to the local bookstore, Sunshine Booksellers, my book and marketing materials in hand.  She got the usual “call security” look when she explained to Joan, the manager, that her dog had written a book.  Before Joan could even catch her breath, Momma plowed ahead, stating that she was hoping the bookstore would carry our book, and also that we would like to do a pawdographing.  Joan graciously agreed to take a look and said she’d be in touch.  Momma, wanting to demonstrate that she was part of the Sunshine Booksellers team, bought a cheap paperback on the way out.

Amazingly, Joan emailed Momma the next day and said she’d read part of Lina Unleashed, and that she would like to have us do a signing!  Momma, over the moon, rushed down to the store to iron out the details with Joan.  By the time she left, Joan had agreed that Momma would also get to do a little presentation which included a reading and Q&A.  To create a pawrty atmosphere, Momma also promised to serve “Unleashed” Chardonnay (an idea she got from Uncle Chuck) and dog bone-shaped cookies.  The event would be held on February 21 at 3:00p at Sunshine Booksellers.

After the excitement wore off, however, Momma began to worry that maybe she had “bitten” off more that she (or I) could “chew.”  For example, just how does one actually “do” a book signing presentation?  Since I was the author, was she supposed to “speak” for me?  And if I speak for myself, it would be a short presentation,wouldn’t it?  (Woof.)

Momma was worried on another front, too.  Because she had promised Joan that she could get at least twenty people to the signing (although she barely knew twenty people in all of Florida), she was now forced to scrounge around for people to invite.  Using her clout as a member of the prestigious Rules Committee in her building, she talked the manager into letting her post signs in the mail and workout rooms.  He did draw the line, however, on posting them in the elevators.  Apparently clout from being on the Rules Committee only goes so far.

Next, Momma dragged me to each of the other buildings in her complex, where she talked her way past locked doors and “begged” each manager to put the signs up somewhere where people would see them.  I did my best to help the process along and ingratiate us to the managers by giving out face licks.  If I do say so, myself, I think it did the “trick!”

It doesn’t stop there either.  Momma goes nowhere without postcard sized flyers in her pocket.  If anyone so much as glances at me on our walks around the Cape, she goes into her elevator speech about me and the book and the paw-dographing and gives them a flyer.  She perfected that elevator speech in, well, the elevator, where she reminds people daily about the signing.

She also posted a notice on the building website (doing something of an end run around the manager) in several categories, even those that have nothing to do with books or pets or items for sale.  With this in mind, Momma piped right up at the last Board meeting and instructed that “everyone should use the website as the go to place for information on all building events and communications!”

Finally she brought the ubiquitous postcards to the golf course and handed them out to the ladies at the “Wine” portion of “Nine & Wine.”  Here one of the ladies is using it as a coaster.  Momma was not happy.

All of her marketing  bases covered, Momma has turned to pawrty prep.  The wine was ordered and delivered weeks ago — I just hope there is some left.  Now if Momma can just find someone to bake dog bone-shaped cookies (she has no flour or sugar or rolling pin on hand, and — let’s face it — the last ones didn’t even resemble dog bones), we’ll be set.

Lina, Pawrty Girl & Best Selling Author

WOOFDA!

Pawscript:  Happy Valentine’s Day!

We are now back in Florida and settled in for the winter.  We are enjoying the warmth and sunshine, and were especially happy to escape the inhumane temperatures of Minnesota.  (Momma:  “So much for that global warming idiocy, Lina.”)  (Me:  “It’s called climate change, Momma.”)

Nothing much has changed here and we have renewed old acquaintances — including with my best furry friend, Gracie!  We do have a bit of news, however.  Momma has somehow wrangled a position on the Rules Committee at her condominium building.  Predictably, she thinks it carries a lot more authority and clout than it does.  In fact, she is so impressed with her new status that you’d think she had been elected president of the United States.  Now that I think about it, how much worse could it be?  Just woofin’.

Momma takes her job very seriously, and because of her newfound “power,” she readily dispenses information and advice that is way beyond the purview of the Rules Committee.  For example, when Gracie’s mom noted that her fireplace pilot light was off, Momma, with all the expertise of an HVAC technician — or maybe a meteorologist, informed her that was because the gas had to be turned off before the hurricane (a tidbit she picked up at the Rules Committee meeting).  And when Momma took a fall in the condo garage due to a wet floor, she promptly tracked down the head of building maintenance so he could do something about it before anyone else fell.  She had a heightened responsibility now as a member of the Committee, did she not?

As with all elected officials (well, most anyway), she feels the stress of the burden of the office, too.  For example, when she goes to the workout room, she is careful to use sanitizing wipes to clean the machines and mats when finished — just in case the building cameras are “trained” on her.  (She was the one, after all, at a Committee meeting who suggested that this rule be added and wouldn’t it just be the “bite” if she was caught failing to do so herself!)

She has also stopped her practice of driving against the directional arrows in the garage, no matter how much time it saves.  She no longer brings her wine to the pool in a glass container (the rule, it turns out, was already on the books – who knew!).  She is even thinking about abiding by the rule that prohibits saving pool lounge chairs by throwing towels over them for use hours later.

She also tries to remember to only take her trash down in the service elevator.  This is not a rule yet, but it’s been proposed and what kind of a rule maker would she be if she didn’t set a good example?

There is one proposed rule, however, that Momma refuses to follow.  That one, of course, involves me.  It seems that some of the residents are of the opinion that dogs belong on the service elevators, not the passenger ones up front.  Momma is vehemently opposed and has no plans to comply.  First, she does not believe that we belong on the elevator with the trash, and second, she likes to use me as a promotional tool for my blog and Lina Unleashed, to try make a buck.  In fact, she actually had the audacity to argue in a meeting that people want me on the passenger elevator.

Anyway, there can be no good outcome if this rule is passed.  I am already bracing myself for another visit from Animal Control.

Lina, Chief of Staff and Stowaway on the Front Elevator

WOOFDA!

Christmas came early for Momma and me this year.  Momma because she got one of her right-wing screeds published by the Star Tribune and me because I got my picture in that very same newspaper!  (The newspaper that Momma – all of a sudden – is not calling the “Red Star” or the “Star and Sickle” anymore.)

Momma’s letter was in response to a “kerfuffle” at Orchestra Hall and a series of letters commenting on said kerfuffle.  It seems the principal trumpet of the Minnesota Orchestra, Manny Laureano, walked off stage because he was fed up with the left-wing comments by guest artist, Rufus Wainwright.

Momma was riveted by this controversy.  She, herself, was sick of performers bashing Republicans when they should be entertaining the audience.  (“Lina, I cannot count the number of times that I have had concerts ruined by such liberal rantings.”)  In fact, Momma had taken to calling various venues to get her money back when she was offended (Momma can be such a snowflake) and booing at the top of her lungs when performers made comments with which she did not agree.  I can only imagine the spectacle of it all.

But I dogress.  If the controversy riveted Momma, the letters criticizing Manny sent her into orbit.  Here was this brave and noble and talented musician taking a stand on the issue and being disparaged for it!  She, Momma, needed to come to his defense!  Accordingly, she began firing off letters to the Strib, and finally on the third try (maybe they just wanted to shut her up?), the paper relented and published her letter on the editorial page.

When Momma saw it in print, she let out such a blood curdling scream that I thought the house was on fire again.  Luckily, Nanny Becky was at our house at the time and put her hands over my (big) ears.  On the off-chance you are interested in what Momma had to say, click on the link below.

http://m.startribune.com/readers-write-tina-smith-and-al-franken-roy-moore-manny-laureano-and-rufus-wainwright-minnesota-as-best-run-state-dirty-bedclothes/464005113/?section=opinion%2Fletters

Two days later, Momma opened up the Saturday paper to the section on pets.  She had submitted my photo several weeks ago (and actually a year ago, too), to be the “Reader Pet of the Week.”  As she looked down the page, Momma was prepared to fume over the unfairness that her little doggie had, once again, not been picked by the enemy newspaper.

Imagine her surprise – and the further damage to my ears – when she saw my picture in all its glory in the paper!  She couldn’t stop squealing (almost crying) – “Lina, you are the Pet of the Week!”  Unfortunately, Nanny wasn’t there, so I had to fend for myself until the outburst subsided.  Here I am, hard at work ~

READER PET OF THE WEEK

The trauma of the year now hopefully over, it’s time to celebrate the holiday season!  I want to personally woof out a thank you for reading my Blog this year.  Your loyalty is mutt, I mean, much appreciated!  Also, (and Momma made me add this) please remember that it’s still not too late to purchase “Lina Unleashed” for one of those last minute stocking stuffers you might need.  (WOOFDA!)

So from me to you – Yappy Holidays and may you have a treat-filled 2018!

Lina