Decorate your dog day

There's an old song: You Decorated My Life.

I could dedicate that to my TG, with whom, forty years ago tonight, I went to Chicago's Comiskey Park to see the Chicago White Sox play the Kansas City Royals. The Sox won four-zip.

It was our first date. We've now been married for thirty-nine years.

That's baseball.

At any rate, a few days ago I decorated my dog. And Andrew's dog too.

While Rambo was here last weekend, I got the idea to festoon both him and Rizzo with a string of tiny lights. 

You know; the kind that operate on a coin battery. They look cute entwined in flower arrangements and looped around dog necks and whatnot.

I don't know why I didn't put lights on both dogs at the same time and photograph them together; I have two strings.

A pair of string lights; a pair of dogs. And yet I didn't think to capture that.

At any rate I want you to see them all twinkly-sparkly.

So it will be Rizzo today; Rambo on Monday. I know it's hard to imagine Rambo in lights but you'll just have to wait.

What's funny about Rizzo is that in pictures he has a resigned air. His expression indicates that he's so over it, he may well expire of ennui.

He's not jaded, though. He's a happy, funny little dog who often becomes animated. It's just that when the camera comes out, he merely puts up with it.

I'd say he grins and bears it, but he can't grin. And I don't think he would, even if he could.

He sits still, though; I'll give him that. In this instance he allowed me to drape the lights around his neck and arrange him in front of the fireplace and then in the doorway to the sun room, where the light would be better.

The shots of Rizzo in the recliner he's commandeered for his own, are the truest depiction of what he's like day in and day out. He's a mutt who loves to laze about.

On a recent Saturday, Dagny arrived on the scene to find Rizzo in his crate. This happens so rarely anymore that she exclaimed and wondered if he could get out.

I told her that he could, but that he had spit up on his blankets that morning, so while the items were being washed, I thought it best that he park his carcass in the crate.

Dagny became instantly concerned. She began wringing her hands, casting a worried eye on Rizzo. I told her the little turkey was perfectly well, but that he sometimes spits up for no reason. She wasn't buying it.

To make things worse, she was set to accompany TG and Rizzo as they made a visit to the local Pet Med Mobile Clinic to stock up on Rizzo's flea and tick medication. Completely routine and unrelated to Chiweenie malaise, either real or imagined.

Dagny thought: Rizzo spit up on his blanket; he's hiding in his crate; Papaw and I are taking him to the vet.

Two and two got put together and for a four-year-old, they added up to a canine health catastrophe.

Meanwhile Rizzo, hale and hearty, had wandered out of his crate and was noshing on some kibble in between doggy-laps of his water.

Dagny bent over him, cooing, rubbing the soft fur of his chest. Don't worry, Rizzo, she comforted. It's okay. I'll be there. I'm comin' with you to the vet.

He looked at her, his chin dripping. I could almost hear him thinking: What are you on about, kid?

She was on about love. It's an emotion that my Rizzo inspires.

May you be inspired to love and by love not only today, but every day.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Friday :: Happy Weekend

Comments

[Mari]

Aww Rizzo! I'm glad he has such a good friend in Dagny, and I know he's a good friend to her too.
And I think in the decorate your pet pics, he's thinking "You people have no idea what I have to put up with here!"

[Jennifer]

@Mari ... no doubt he's thinking something exactly like that. He's patient with us; it's part of his charm. xoxo

[Sally]

Rixxo is so cute with our without the lights. And, so is that little Dagny,

I sure hope, though, that Rizzo doesn't know you called him a mutt. Lol
Have a blessed day, Jennifer.

xoxo

[Jennifer]

@Sally ... no, he doesn't know. He can't read. In person I only ever call him sweetheart. Haahaaha xoxo