Quite a Satisfactory Saturday

This has really been a lovely day (another one). Perfect weather, again, about which I'm still feeling obscurely guilty. But, what can you do?

Mom and I took Chappy (aka Drool-Face) to the park today. He's been asking to go all week. ("Park! Park! Park park park!") Then, he was so excited to be there, he just drooled . . . and then covered himself in drool every time he shook his head.

This habit of his, I'll tell you, came as quite a shock to me in the beginning. None of our other dogs ever drooled this much. Don't even get me started on the amount of drool he used to emit in the car . . . he used to get carsick . . . and, well . . . rivers. But that, at least, had a reason. So does a mouth-watering reaction to food. But drool just out of sheer excitement at being at the park? Who knew? I try to carry paper towels with me for this kind of thing . . . I don't like drooly kids (I accept that it happens, but that's what bibs are for, and you at least try to stay on top of it), and I don't want my dog covered with it either. Naturally, though, I always forget to actually bring the towel with me . . . it's usually back in the car, and so Chappy happily meanders through the park, looking like, well, this.

After our lovely (if wet) walk through the park, we went to Wightman Farms for some apples.

And some pie. (They have really good home-style pies).

And, oh yeah, some doughnuts, which Mom particularly loves.

Unfortunately, it's still a little early in the season for my favorite apples (Macouns and Honeycrisps), but I did get some Ginger Golds, so I'm happy. I love really good, really crisp apples in the fall.

And you should have seen all the pumpkins they had already. I mean it's only September 10th. (I bet you didn't know they grew with faces here in New Jersey.)

After Wightmans, I told Mom and Chappy I wanted to make one stop--Barnes & Noble, to see if they had Stephanie's bookbookbook2. I looked on the shelf, and didn't see it, but since somebody had left her a Comment about finding a copy yesterday, I asked. (Something I almost never do in bookstores, since I'm usually pretty good at finding what I need.) They had two copies in stock . . . but couldn't find either of them. The fellow helping looked, and asked around, in case somebody had shelved them in the wrong place, but . . . nope. Nowhere to be found. I mean, if they hadn't had the books at all yet, well, fine, but they had them in the inventory. Sheesh. So . . . no extra yarn-harlot-ness for me this weekend. Disappointing!

Now, you hear me talk about Chappy all the time. (All the time, I know.) You even hear me mention my dear, departed Katy, his predecessor.

But you rarely ever hear me talk about the dogs we had before. Partly because they were the family's dogs, not my dogs. There were two of them, both miniature dachshunds--Muppy, who we got when I was 11, and Jilly, who lived to be almost 15 and a half. Today would have been her 21st birthday.

We got her when I was 17 and she was 8 months old, about a year after we lost Muppy. We were actually going to get a puppy, but her breeder tricked us--she let us meet Jilly first, before we ever saw the litter of puppies. (Sneaky!) By the time we made it into the next room, Jilly had worked her wiles. A good thing for her, too, since the first full day we had her, when Dad and Patty went to work and I headed off to school, my mother almost had a break down, Jilly reminded her so much of Muppy. (She really didn't want another dog, I might add, but Dad and I ganged up on her.) I got home from school and said, "How's the puppy??" and Mom almost burst into tears . . . she went upstairs and shut the door (rare, rare thing), and I spent the afternoon running up and down the stairs from my mother, who wanted nothing to do with the dog, and poor Jilly who was still so confused and scared and uncertain . . . it wasn't a good day. But then, a day or so later, Mom was vacuuming and realized she didn't know where Jilly was . . . the poor thing had been so terrified at the vacuum, she squeezed herself behind the toilet and just shook . . . Mom felt so terrible, and cuddled her to calm her down, and I think that pretty much did it. After that first week, Mom loved her as much as the rest of us did . . . it was just getting through the first week that was hard!

What can I tell you about Jilly? She was sweet and lovable, of course, but a little neurotic at times. She hated the car, because she was convinced that it would always go to the vet. She went more often than she should have--generally healthy, but periodontal disease (lots of tooth extractions). She ate baby food for almost her entire life--Cheese & Macaroni was her favorite flavor. She thought she was a little girl, or at least acted as if she did. She loved to get dressed up--if we tied a bow around her neck (as in this photo, taken on my sister's wedding day), she'd preen with it . . . right until it started tickling her ears. She wore perfume--would roll on the carpet whenever any of us would spritz ourselves with it. She loved to flowers--never ate them, but would sniff every, single one of a bouquet. She loved dolls--we could have our dolls "pet" her and she would lean in to the pets as if they were just really small humans . . . but stuffed animals, she would treat like, well, animals. She loved tea--preferably with milk, no sugar--and I always gave her the last mouthful when I had a mug. (Her nose was perfectly shaped for reaching down to the bottom of the cup.) She did bark quite a lot, being a dachshund, but she was such a sweetie to have around. I feel guilty sometimes that I don't think about her as much since my Boykin Spaniels have come into my life, but that doesn't mean I love her any the less!

Anyway, in honor of Jilly, today's links for Katrina Aid are for the pets: Noah's Wish, ASPCA, the Humane Society.

Comments

[minnie]

um, did you forget something? i thought you were going to post a pic of jilly. dogs are great. i just dont' have one right now because i don't believe in tying them up, and my fence sucks. prolly won't get one for a while, since the rest of the house has priority, sigh.