Dear Readers,
Considering what we have gone through recently, the past couple of weeks has been almost Nirvana. We continue to do agility training, boarding and even visiting with some of my BFFs and their humans. However, as you might guess, life with Momma is never without its moments.
For example, the other day she saw that I had an irritated right eye and just knew I should go to the vet. However, she really didn’t want to give up her golf game, and was trying to decide if she could postpone bringing me in. Let’s see(!), what was more important — her game or me possibly going blind? Luckily Nanny Becky was available and brought me in to get the care I needed. Here I am getting my weekly exam.
Then there was the embarrassing moment at Camp Bow Wow. A couple of weeks ago Momma brought me to the Camp on the way to her golf game (I know, right?), and noticed a new digital display screen in the Camp’s lobby. She also noticed that many of Bow Wow’s dogs were prominently displayed in cute pictures on the screen. Unfortunately, I was not one of them. Whoops.
After watching the photo rotation about ten times and realizing there was no way I was included, Momma, the ultimate stage mother, took action. “Excuse me,” she crowed to the young receptionist, “but I’m just wondering why I don’t see any photos of Lina up there.” And of course the next time we came in (these folks know how to muzzle Momma), there I was with my name and face in lights. I just hope I have some friends left at Camp.
Okay, I do have to admit that, to ease her conscience when constantly dumping me off, she does purchase “One on One” time for me at Bow Wow. This includes snuggle and playtime and one of my favorite activities is the Camp’s “Sniff and Seek” game. Digging it!




And then there was yardgate.
Momma recently hired a company to help her care for our flower beds. The company we contracted with was wonderful and dispatched great employees to come out and do the job. The only hitch was that the employees were Hispanic and there was a bit of a language barrier. They spoke some English and Momma knew virtually no Spanish. (And I only know “woof.”) Undeterred, though, Momma used her vast Spanish vocabulary of four or five words — and sometimes pantomimed the words when that failed — to communicate.
For example, one day when it was really hot out she asked the crew if they would like “agua.” (Fortunately, she couldn’t find a way to work “cerveza” into the conversation.) And when trying to communicate about the time of day, Momma would say something like, “so you’ll be here until ‘dos’-thirty?” kind of acting out the hands of a clock with her arms. Then, showing off just a little, she would eagerly point at me and exclaim “perro!” (Oh, God, the humiliation.) Finally, when they were getting ready to leave, Momma would grandly say “gracias” about a hundred times, and cap it all off with “adios!” Luckily, I was able to smooth things over with my face licks and winning personality.
Lina, Perro
WOOFDA!