Ruby is home!

© willowdot21

Home from Vetinary Hospital, after a traumatic month of shocks and operations. Fingers crossed cancer cut out, there is a lot of nursing to do but she deserves the best. There is some concern that the skin flap the Surgeons used to close the wound might necrotise but hubby and I will do our best to prevent this. Stitches out in 2/3 weeks.

Ruby says thank you everyone for sending her love and good wishes.💜💜💜

Ani’s Advent: Pondering…

© Sue Vincent.

Ani is back with here Advent Calendar. Please read here.

Throwback Thursday.

Lauren is tugging at our hearts this week on Throwback Thursday Memory BlogHop which she and Maggie at, from the cave walls as we remember those best friends of our lives – our pets. Click on the link to read the rules and join in the fun.

Today’s subject: The Pets in My Life.

Mum, Me and Steve. © willowdot21.

When I was a little girl I was frightened of dogs. My mum and Dad decided to get me a dog for Christmas. The dog arrived on Christmas Eve after I had gone to bed. Somehow the whole family managed to keep it a secret from me.

As I said the dog arrived at Christmas and Dad being Dad and an Irish Catholic

Steve was a beautiful dog, red fox in colour with a white chest and a couple of socks. He was a Hienz fifty seven, a mixed breed, a mogrel a mutt. The whole family fell head over heels in love with him.

I was the youngest child of a big family ten years between myself and the next girl, eight years between me and the next boy and fourteen years between me and our eldest sister. Steve crossed all the barriers and age differences between us all. Steve was everyone’s best friend, except maybe my next brother who really did not get on with him. Why? well that was a total mystery to us all. Later when my brother had joined the army , Steve always barked at him whenever he came home on leave. It was so strange because Steve was not like that with anyone else.

Steve soon became my best friend, he was such a sweet natured dog. He let me dress him up as a baby and let me push him around in the old pushchair, or used my mum’s net curtains to regale him as a bride. He really was a cutie.

During the week we’d all take Steve for a walk but on a Sunday either a few of us or just me would be accompanied by Dad and we’d go for a long walk around the park. It was a huge park with a fishing lake , a boating lake, a play area, football pitches, tennis courts and much more. There was even a stately home and museum. The house and park originally belonged to the Rothschilds.

Steve loved his walks, he loved his food he would eat anything and everything. My dad always had to get up at 5am to go to work, Steve’s bed was in the kitchen, so he always shared dad’s porridge, infact Steve shared every meal everyone ever ate in that house.

Being a big family in a house splitting at the seams, full of many waifs and strays we always had lots of people round for Christmas and New Year. I don’t know how but there was always plenty of food and drink. One particular year I was given the job of taking people their drinks, my dad was incharge of making the drinks I was just the waitress. As the evening went on Dad noticed we were getting through a lot of drink. An investigation was started the outcome to which was: people were having a sip of their drinks then putting them down and Steve was finishing them off. …. So not only was Steve getting drunk people were drinking out of doggy glasses. . Poor Steve he was rather unwell for quite a few days. Another funny thing I remember is that my Dad , being a union man always called Steve Brother….this always made us all laugh!

I was very bullied at school and if it had not of been for Steve I would of been a very sad and lonely child. Until I met hubby. Steve had lots of adventures, he was an escapologist. He lived a long and happy life loved by us all. He was still alive when my eldest was born. Infact my two older sons still remember him.

We only had the pet when I was a child. Steve has never left my mind or my heart. Since I been married we’ve had five cats, two gerbils and two dogs…. The latest is our beautiful Ruby.

© willowdot21

Ronovan Writes Décima Poetry Challenge Prompt No. 72: (CROOK) in the A rhyme line.

THIS IS PART OF RONOVANWRITE’S WEEKLY HAIKU CHALLENGE.

Photo by Serena Koi on Pexels.com

He is such a bully , that chuck
Thinks he’s the boss, keeps pushing us.
Why does he always make such fuss.
He’s afraid of the two leg’s crook.
Disobedience he’ll not brook.
The shepherd’s rules he’ll never buck.
Then he pushes us and his luck
We pretend to do his bidding
Keeping our true feelings hidden.
Then shepherds dog gives us less truck.

One-Liner Wednesday. 28/7/2021.

Outside of a dog a book is man’s best friend, inside of a dog it’s too dark to read!

Groucho Marx

Ruby and friends! © willowdot21.

THIS IS PART OF LINDAGHILL’S ONE-LINER WEDNESDAY.

#TANKA TUESDAY #POETRY CHALLENGE NO. 233, #POET’SCHOICE

WELCOME TO TANKA TUESDAY

For this challenge, you can write your poem in any syllabic form you’d like to try.

Ruby © willowdot21.

old am I
my dreams let me fly
know no bounds.

For Colleen’s Tuesday Tanka Challenge I have chosen to do a short haiku. 3/5/3.

Ronovan Writes Décima Poetry Challenge Prompt No. 52: (NOISE) in the B rhyme line.

You may, if you wish, make some kind of link between the Haiku Challenge prompt of (FLEAS and Sneeze) my Haiku is here. and this Décima Challenge of NOISE in the B rhyme line. This means you could write a haiku post using the prompt words. Then do a Décima post using this week’s prompt uniting the two with a common message.

The 2 CHALLENGES are SEPARATE but CAN BE combined if YOU CHOOSE to do so.

Like a rumble in the jungle
A whirring, bumbling joyful noise.
Fleas busy showing off their poise.
A heaving seaving big bundle.
Singing up a joyful roundel.
Ruby’s distracted by her nose.
She hears the rumble as it grows.
Her nose is busy a twitching
Those fleas are busy a scritchin.
I hear a sneeze and out they blows.

******

This is part of Ronovanwrite’s Weekly Décima.

Thursday photo prompt: Appointed #writephoto

It’s Thursday and time for Sue Vincent’s #writepho, which I have to say, I am delighted to see back again this week.

It has been suggested that Sue use the ‘Mister Linky’ widget rather than having to create a full round-up list every week… which is a good thing as her treatments and hospital appointments tend to be on Thursdays…

Sue asks as an experiment, would we mind clicking the green Mr Linky logo on her page, by entering our name and link to our post then clicking the box to accept the privacy policy, then press enter… we can save her a lot of work.

When you click, it should look like this screenshot, but empty and ready for you to fill in:

***********

For visually challenged writers, the image shows the black silhouette of a crow perched atop a blackened and dead-looking tree. In the background the sky is blue and the trees are decked in the full green leaf of summer…

This week’s prompt ~ Appointed.

“Hey Crow what are you doing up there?” asked the small dog with the wagging tail. The crow, though , startled did not move at once. Taking a deep breath he pretended to look off into the distance.

“What are you doing up there, and why is that tree all black and dead like winter looking”. ….. “Go away hissed the crow” trying to retain a semblance of nonshalance. But the small dog would not go away, and the small dog would not be quiet, she was an inquisitive dog.

Crow looked to the horizon taking in the blue sky and fluffy clouds and sighed… All this is wrong he thought, the tree was the only thing that was right…..black and dead. The rest of the surroundings were to bright and that awful word …pretty.

The small dog kept asking questions in a loud bark! Crow just ignored her and wondered why she would not go. The worrying thing was he was on a completely different plane of existence to this small dog and they should not see eachother at all.

Suddenly a woman arrived over the brow of the hill, “Hey Girly” she called “what are you barking about.” After catching her breath she continued. “Ah! I see it’s a crow, hello Mr Crow how are you today”

“Bloody confused ” muttered the crow. The woman laughed, “A confused corvid sitting in a dead tree, well done Girly you’ve found it” “Found what?” asked the small dog.

The woman smiled and hugged the small dog. “The title of my next book, The well appointed crow” she smiled.

The crow clicked his beak and said “but you can’t see me I am not in your time”

Even better said the woman “The well appointed crow who wasn’t there!” She laughed again and the small dog barked. The crow said no more.

A Quick Pint Down the Pig & Ferret

Scroggy? Redbone Coonhound init! Fred sez it’s a real steal – erh, catch, for such a rare and contenshosh breed. And we’re gonna make a sheep dog outta it soon enough. The genuine articools.

Watcha mean Coonhound’s a hunting doggy? Hunting, Sheeping, all the same init! And no one knows more about doggies than me and Freddy. We’ll take yer domestic dog, yer street dog, yer –
Nah, not take. Didn’t mean to imply…more like appropriate, erh…and, erh, Fred says “Terry go round up some mammals with sheepdog potenshals”. Yu’d be amazed how many mutts ‘round abouts West Pid have them potenshals…um…

Read at Source Usual Muttwits

THREELEGS – PART 4

Posted by Zozo and Jools at Usual Muttwits.

Vexed, I’m very vexed ThreeLegs considers his state of mind, that place where all thoughts of noshing, eightleggers and sniffing live in a perpetual mush between the earflaps. And thinking about noshing, Threelegs’ belly reminds him he’s missing out on his brekkers at Freddy’s Farm.  Bacon, well done scraps of bacon, anyways.  Toast, the crusts.  Sausage – burnt to perfection – and a touch of healthy kicking or a sudden wack out of nowhere from Freddy with his big stick. He is panting fast, tongue lolling.  Thinking of home, starting to miss it all.

Ahh wails Threelegs, feeling lonesome I’m undeserving of such heinous exile from me pater famillias?

The orange sniff of nosh makes his snout holes flick and bubble with hunger.

Just down the street is Greggs.  He can sniff the special of the day, two sausage, scrambled eggs and baked beans. Just the ticket!

But he’s reluctant to leave the PD compound.

Westley Piddle is a small town but ThreeLegs has hardly ever been here, ‘cept for whisking doggies, so is rightfully wary of the other fourlegs he can sniff all out and abouts.  More warily, who can he call his bowls mates, his real snifz-friends nows that he’s all alones?

Continue reading at Usual Muttwits.