Patti Soldavini

Archive for May 31st, 2012|Daily archive page

Weimaraner Barks Commands

In dogs, humor, lifestyle, pets, weimaraners, writing on 05/31/2012 at 8:36 pm

‘READ. MY. LIPS. MY. CHAIR.”

I’m telling you, the ghosts of the German S.S. must be visiting Olive while she’s sleeping. Yesterday for the first time, I heard a new bark from her. Two quick barks. Distinctly very sharp in tone. I hear this as I’m sitting in the oversized pony print chair in the corner of my dining room. I had just settled my giant pin cushion of an ass into the chair to relax for a minute. “FOR GOD’S SAKE, DO YOU HAVE TO GO OUT AGAIN, OLIVE?” I whined. As I rise from the chair and walk toward the stairs, I feel a breeze slap across my behind as Olive races past me and jumps up into the chair I just climbed out of. “YOU LITTLE SNOT,” I say to Olive who sits in the chair looking quite contented with herself. Now I know what the dual bark signifies. It clearly states “OFF MY CHAIR. NOW.” And lest you think I’m just imagining all this, she just did it to me again tonight.

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Two Classic Beauties

In dogs, humor, lifestyle, pets, weimaraners, writing on 05/31/2012 at 8:09 pm

“Wanna’ see me race this thing?”

As Olive and I walked past the local body shop this sun-drenched morning, we watched a beautiful classic old car park across the street. I couldn’t take my eyes of the wide whitewalls. When do you ever see those? A mechanic walks over to it and starts futzing with the door. “HEY, DO YOU MIND IF I USE THE CAR AS A BACKDROP FOR MY DOG?” I ask. I position Olive in front of the bright shiny automobile, and take a few steps backward to get more of the car into frame. I tell Olive to “STAY” and even drop her leash so I can move back even further. I figure it’s part of her off leash training. The sun is bright and it’s early morning so the lighting is going to be harsh; not great for taking pictures so I take just a few. Neither my skill or my iphone camera is going to outwit the sun. Olive gets up once and I put her back into a “stay.”  “GOOD GIRL, OLIVE. WE’RE DONE. LET’S GO.” As we walk further down the street and cars pass us by, I am reminded by how “boxy” automobiles look today, so devoid of the style, grace and beauty of cars from the ‘40s, ‘50s and ‘60s. Now everything looks like a box. Whether it’s a Mercedes or a Ford. Zero personality. We drive fiberglass and steel cubes. Not beautifully styled pieces of art like our parents drove. And then a more troubling thought occurs to me. Our homes are like boxes. So is the property they sit on; carved up like squares. We go to work in boxes that are either long and flat or so tall and narrow that they almost touch the sky. So much of the food we eat comes in boxes, like cereal and pasta. If you start to think about all the man made objects present on our planet, you’ll find mostly boxes. Is it just our desire for a static sense of order? Is it a symbol of a hyper sense of pragmatism? ‘WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?” Olive interjects. “JUST GET ME HOME. I’M SO HUNGRY I’M GOING TO DEVOUR THAT FAKE CANADIAN TOURIST OF A GOOSE STANDING OVER THERE LIKE A LAWN ORNAMENT.” As we continue our walk, I can’t help but think. “CHRIST, NO WONDER SO FEW PEOPLE IN OUR SOCIETY CAN “THINK OUTSIDE THE PROVERBIAL BOX.” It’s not so easy when most of the shapes you encounter every day are boxes and squares. Long live the circle.

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