Patti Soldavini

Archive for October 16th, 2011|Daily archive page

Caught Red-Pawed

In dogs, humor, lifestyle, pets, weimaraners, writing on 10/16/2011 at 2:11 pm

"I didn't do it."

I don’t know. Do you believe her? Can you tell I just yanked the expensive ball of fresh mozzarella cheese out of her mouth? It was still wrapped but it had at least one puncture wound. Like an idiot, I left it on the new kitchen countertop while I walked out of the room for SECONDS. This dog doesn’t miss a trick. Luckily, I don’t usually leave food out; the cheese was minding its own business as I had just rescued it from the plastic shopping bag in which it was suffocating. So, do I eat the cheese or not? Hell yes. For a $7 ball of cheese, I’ll just irrigate the wound and slice the offending piece away. Not much will keep me from enjoying a fresh mozzarella, sundried tomato and pesto sandwich. I think she’s sorrier that she didn’t eat it before I caught her; the fist-sized ball of soft cheese wrapped in plastic, nestled softly between her powerful molars like a fresh little quail. I’m sure you’ll try again Olive.

On The Road

In dogs, humor, lifestyle, pets, weimaraners, writing on 10/16/2011 at 1:55 pm

"I LIKE the view!"

Yesterday, Olive and I went for a leisurely afternoon drive, winding our way down quiet country roads flecked with smudges of red, orange and gold. Autumn leaves tumble stem over blade, grazing the windshield as the next gust of wind carries them off to another temporary resting place. Olive begins these destination-less trips by poking her head between the two front seats to share the same view I have. She always seems to be slightly amazed by what she sees and tracks the cars in front of us as though they are plump rabbits running away from us. “THIS IS A MUCH BETTER VIEW THAN OUT OF THE REAR OR SIDE WINDOWS ISN’T IT OLIVE?” She looks at me as if to nod “yes,” and goes back to fixating on the view out the windshield. Finally, she settles back down onto the rear bench, maintaining a forward-looking vantage point. As I continue to drive, raising my arm out the window upward as if to high five the wind, I wonder how anyone could ever live someplace where they don’t get to experience the natural magnificence of a Northeastern Fall. It is unthinkable to me. This was a quintessential Autumn day. Cue the marching band at the local football game, pumpkins sitting on doorsteps, the scent of hot cider and donuts wafting through the air and the squeals and giggles of children enjoying a hayride. I swear, days like this make all the hot, humid, stinkbug-filled Summer days and all the frost-bitten, see-your-breath bone-chilling winter days worth it. “WHERE IN GOD’S NAME ARE WE GOING?” says Olive. “I HAVE TO PEE AND I’M GETTING HUNGRY.” Of course she doesn’t verbalize this, but I am exceptionally talented at reading non-verbal communication cues. “OKAY, OKAY, LET ME JUST TAKE A PICTURE OF THIS OLD BARN, THEN WE’LL TURN AROUND AND GO HOME.” My God, it’s like having a two-year old. One who would rather eat diapers than wear them. I look back at Olive’s adorably inquisitive face and I swear I hear, “ARE WE THERE YET?”

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