Moo

It was a dark and stormy night. Ryan and Bailey have left Beth and I to fend for ourselves in the high lonely mountains of Montana. Beth got a craving for the ice cream and was determined to have some even though it was late and freezing out. So she put on her fuzzy slippers threw her coat on over her pjs and out we went. I myself love the ice cream but had I known the danger we were to encounter on this fateful night I would have tried to convince my Beth that bed was a better option.
We were taking the back road between our house and the quick mart when we turned the corner to find about 20 gleaming eyes staring at us from the middle of the road. Beth hit the brakes but the road was slick and we slid into a field. The eyes didn’t move, in fact I don’t think that they even blinked. Beth took one look at me, asked if I was ok and said Omar we better get out and see what is going on. Being the brave and heroic dog I am, I tried to get Beth to stay in the safety of the vehicle. Being the silly over curious human she is, she did not.
When we stepped out of the car I knew at once the treachery. A heard of solid black gigantic mooing beast stood between Beth and her ice cream. They didn’t stand a chance. Beth and I have been through this before with a small more wooly form of creatures. But that was in the day time and it wasn’t freezing out. Beth was also not in slippers and PJs, so I thought for sure that we would just turn around. She was determined and Beth and I were not on the same page. When I heard her whistle for me I knew it was time to work. Slowly but surely Beth and I worked until we got the whole heard to the side of the road. Beth had her flashers on so that passing cars would know to slow. She made a call, and we wait for a man in a uniform to show up. This was one dangerous heard. I mean who likes to play chicken with a whole heard of mooers on an icy road.
When the man in blue showed up, he and Beth had a quick conversation. I liked him, he got me a biscuit out of his car to repay me for my hard and dangerous night of work. After that, it was on to the ice cream. We had a bowl when we got home and then went to bed. What an exhausting night.
“All is not butter that comes from the cow.” - Chinese Proverb

Sunshine and Rain

In a dogs world sunshine or rain makes no difference. If you throw ball into a torrential down pour we will go and get it. If it is 110 degrees outside, we will still lay on the concrete to catch some rays. This is in dog world of course where life is a little more, simple. Things in Omarland are a bit different.

Let me explain. I, Omar the Dapper, refuse to go out when there is a slight mist. I do not see the need to get my beautiful coat dirty and smelly by indulging my needs in times of wet weather. This means that if I need to go while it is raining, I will go from the safety of the porch. Since I learned many years ago that it does not please my Beth in the slightest to clean Wee and Doo off her covered porch, I will do all I can to keep as much of me covered as possible; while leaning over the porch to relieve myself. When it is raining sideways and there is no were safe to go, I just don’t. This also drives my Beth crazy. She is constantly telling me that I will end up at the vet if I don’t just do my business, but this does not pervert my ways.

Mud and I are not friends in the slightest. My sister Bailey (the Lab) loves mud. She gets no greater pleasure in life than splashing and playing in the mud. However, my huge webbed feet tend to collected things, in between my toes. Therefore, I do all I can to move swiftly and strategically through such things. And the time Beth spends cleaning in between every toe is no joy either.

Of all the nature available to me in this world, it is grass I love. So soft between my toes, there is nothing like it. I love to roll in it. Rub my face on it. And most of all, I love to stretch out and a cool autumn day and soak in the sun on the soft refreshing grass. There should be a poem about grass. Humans have poems about everything else.

“I believe a leaf of grass is no less than the journey-work of the stars.” - Walt Whitman