Meet my Dogs

Yesterday I got busy and did everything on my To Do list, except belly dance and write, my two most important daily tasks.  I let the “urgent” get in the way of the “important.”  Mostly my time was spent at the shelter with two sick puppies.  But this blog is not about shelter stuff, although it may get mentioned here and there.

Speaking of dogs, I’ve attached photos of ours.  From left to right, they are Muffin, Sam, and Cooper.  Muffin is also affectionately known as “Mofo.”  How she got that moniker is surrounded by controversy and conflicting claims.  The only thing we can say for certain is that it started when my kids were teenagers.  My son claims he was the first to use “Mofo” for Muffin, but a couple of their friends at the time also claim the honor.  The mystery remains unsolved. 

Our dogs are all mutts.  Mofo was a rescue dog, but she has an inexplicable sense of entitlement.  Cooper is the alpha dog and the most well behaved.  Sam, alas, has gone to doggie heaven since this photo was taken.  She was 17 years old.  All our dogs live very long lives.  Mofo is 13 years old, and Cooper is 12.  They sleep a lot but still have bursts of energy.  Cooper lives for charging the dog next door, through the fence.  This started when the neighbor’s dog, a yellow lab, was just a puppy, and Cooper had the size and bluff advantage.  Now Ranger towers over Cooper.  Ranger mostly stands there and wags his tail, while Cooper growls menacingly but is careful not to get too close to the fence.  Mofo stands a safe distance behind Cooper and barks.  After an intense stare down, Cooper and Ranger eventually lose interest and wander away.  Usually this takes about 30 seconds.  (Dogs have a short attention span, unless you've seen a terrier watch a hole where a critter is hiding.)

I’m also attaching a photo of Mofo in the back yard.  Can you see her?  She blends into the background, being a nondescript beige color like dirt, rocks, and neutral carpeting.  She could be the canine version of “Where’s Waldo?”

Yesterday I fully intended to go to my dance class, in which we are learning the choreography to “Jemileh.”  But, as I said, I did other things first, and afterwards, it was too late and I was too tired to go. 

Tonight I have the two belly dance classes in a row, one a beginner class and the next the keister-kicking “beginning intermediate” class.  I’m looking forward to them.  Five days is too long to go without!

Footnote not related to any of the above:  My husband put a bumper sticker on his truck that has the word “Secede” superimposed on the Texas flag.  He said it would make it easier to find his truck in a crowded parking lot.  I told him, not around here.