Last weekend, my brother came to visit. He’s been living in Colorado for several years, and most recently has spent several months (I think) living in the national parks with no real address. He and his dog Buddy made the 24-hour drive back to Ohio for a few days.
He called me Saturday morning and announced that he was thinking he was going to come down and see us. Things that I’d managed to do by the time he called: wake up to answer the phone. He would be here in an hour, he said.
Two hours later, he pulled in. With his dog.
This may shock some of you, since I only have eight cats and do not post pictures of them every single day, nor do I allow them to have their own Twitter feeds, but I am not really much of a dog person. Don’t get me wrong–I love the idea of dogs. I love a small handful of individual dogs. As a species, though, I figure that if I wanted to put that much effort into something, I’d just have another baby, and at least the baby would eventually stop pissing on my carpets.
Much to my surprise, I ended up loving Harper’s dog. Seriously, he was the sweetest, cutest dog ever, totally content to just hang out next to us. He didn’t even bark when every single dog on the street started barking at him. If I were ever to be forced with the option of, say, getting a dog or dying horribly, Buddy’s the sort of dog that I’d get.
To be entirely honest, I’m somewhat surprised that my brother, of all people, is able to keep another creature alive, let alone train him to obey commands. It was a pleasant realization.
Once we’d all been introduced to the dog, we hung out on the porch for a while, and then we did what every family does when people come over–Maura announced that she wanted to go for a walk in the cemetery.
I realized after Harper had left that making people go for random walks through the cemetery is pretty common in my family. I grew up about three doors down from the Charleston Village Pioneer Cemetery in Lorain, and my great-grandparents owned the house before my parents did. My mother’s pointed out that when people came over, we pretty much always went to the cemetery. Not because we had anyone buried there or anything, just–you know how some families play board games when they get together? Apparently my family goes to cemeteries.
Minor cemetery fixation aside, it was really nice to see Harper, who I only usually see once a year or so. And having met his dog, now I have something to talk to him about–win/win all around, I think. And this year, I’m looking forward to seeing him at Christmas–and hoping that he brings the dog.
Wow I almost didn’t recognize him in that first picture. I however am not suprised that he’s been living in the national parks somehow I can picture that.
I LOVE THAT DOG! Don’t get me wrong – Kaylee is my sweetheart and has been sleeping plastered to me since her lost days a couple weeks ago – and your Orange Brothers delight me – but Buddy needs a giant bear hug and a good conversation from me. :-) Harper is also cute and reminds me a little of my sister’s boyfriend – scruffy and comfortable in his own skin. I dig.
cute pup!!! i was again looking at pups online. i want two newfies, to be named ‘ollie’ and ‘barney’ though ‘moose’ would be more fitting. i told Companion that i wouldn’t get a dog until Panda died – she’s had enough crap in her life, constant moving, various and assorted critters moving in and out, etc. she brought me a present today, a chipmunk which she left next to the grill. i wonder if she wants me to cook him?!?
i don’t mind cemetaries. i just don’t like to go during funerals. but i think open caskets are barbaric. cremate me and bury me with the late great milly (emily’s 12th bd pup, who led a great life, collapsed the same day as my dad… my quadripeds have been interesting, they tend to die when shit happens. long story…) ok, i’ll go away now. cute pup…
still here, Companion doesn’t want a big dog, I want one (or two) who outweigh me! ok, now i’ll go away.
The dog looks so cool! With all the cats I have I am amazed at how i feel about the dogs. Loki the St Bernard is now about 170 pds and is still being trained to be my handicap assist dog – ok, the trainer says the problem is us, not Loki, we are just too laid back – we can’t figure that one out. hehehe She has never experienced old hippies before is our only explanation. Ming Fou the Black Chow is such a sweet little girl. Probably my last baby for awhile. Sometimes I yearn so bad for a small furry in my lap!
Peeing on carpet – Loki was trained in 30 days by the cats – no kidding! He pooed on the carpet and Halley Girl (his kitty mommy) slapped him, he didn’t poo anywhere for 2 days. I was hysterical for 30 days. After cats, i thot this training was horrible. Everyone tells me, dogs train longer than this that i was lucky – ok. Ming Fou came trained – just followed Loki.
Ok – so recently someone was pooing in the library – we were blaming Ming Fou – it was the 32 pd kitty Sonny – yes, enough said?
still making up to Ming Ming