Depending on what trek I take when I walk, I pass a corner yard with several huge signs with the caveat “beware of dog” yet, as the days, weeks and months passed, I’d yet to see or hear this beast. I would like to pose the question that if you saw a large, silver bowl sitting on the cement outside the back door, would it not be a safe assumption that Bowser is a sizeable pooch and maybe you don’t want to cross paths with him? Or aggravate him? Well, that big bowl talked to me and said “don’t take any chances” … so, I’d cross the street as I neared this place, despite never seeing the dog who was the subject of the sign. I merely equated the big bowl with the name of “Butch” painted on it and the sign to beware of dog and that was enough warning for me. I finally saw the bowl’s owner, a terror to be sure – a silky, little terrier who barked ferociously at me as I walked past. I almost laughed at it thinking he was all puffed up with attitude defending his turf – a terrier with a ‘tude. He barked incessantly as I walked by and then I turned backward and stole a glance at him and he was drinking out of that big ol’ bowl as if he’d made himself hoarse with all the barking. Truthfully, if he would have bent down too far, he might have fallen in. That amused me all the way home.
Speaking of dogs whose bark is worse than their bite, we went to Buddy’s vet today for a toenail trim. I favor weekdays if possible, as the big dogs don’t seem to have vet appointments until evenings or Saturdays, when their owners bring them in, or perhaps I should say they pull their owners in through the door. We generally wait until the latest date in October for the last trim, just before cold weather sets in, and that I understand will happen next week. Robb was out today, so we made our appointment and off we went. In the Spring and Fall I swap cages in order to give Buddy’s “current” cage a thorough cleaning. The “new” cage is identical, right down to the toys and treats. So, Buddy, who is pictured above, watched me intently as I was filling up the dishes and putting the perches and toys in place in anticipation of our visit this afternoon. He was rather quiet, which was unusual for him, though, every so often I’d hear a tiny peep or a squeak. As he watched me warily, I was sure the gears were clicking in his head and he was dying to ask me “are we getting another canary?” to which his pet parent would answer “no dearest, you are all the canary I need –singing like Pavarotti and mischievous enough for two canaries” … he should not sweat it as he will remain a spoiled, “only bird”. The appointment went without incident and hopefully we are good to go until the warm weather.
My friend Ilene lives in rural Kingsville, Ontario and she has many Golden Retrievers and German Shepherds. When she takes her pooches for vet visits, on the way home they stop at Mickey D’s for fries! That’s the perfect way to top off a trip to the big city and seeing your doc, er vet. We didn’t stop for treats for Buddy on the way home as his cage was swaddled under four covers with a small air hole due to the stiff breeze. We did share a big piece of multi-grain toast once he was back and settled into in his own space – afternoon toast is our everyday ritual.
Luckily, on today’s trip to the vet there were no big dogs with booming barks (or even pipsqueaks like “Butch”) to scare the living daylights out of one small canary, even though it is nearly “Howl-a-ween”.