Patti Soldavini

Posts Tagged ‘dog toys’

Anticipation

In animals, dogs, humor, pets, weimaraners on 12/31/2012 at 11:56 am

"NOW? NOW? NOW?"

“NOW? NOW? NOW?”

“NO YOU TINY LUNATIC, YOU CANNOT EAT ANY MORE OF YOUR GIFTS,” I admonish Olive after she slices through two or three less carefully wrapped items on the morning of Christmas Eve. The anticipation is going to kill her. No more than 30 seconds after placing Olive’s gifts at the foot of the citrus-scented tree, she made her move. As though she were leading the Calvary, she galloped over to the tree and executed a swift snatch ‘n grab. As I begin to approach, she senses that she’s been “caught,” and as I gently pry the tattered wrapping paper with the canvas chicken leg dangling from it, she gives it up. She tries this twice more during the day and I finally surrender. “OH GO AHEAD YOU CRAZY POOCH. MERRY CHRISTMAS.”

Today on Olive’s Outtakes

In dogs, humor, lifestyle, pets, weimaraners, writing on 05/20/2012 at 7:09 pm

Read what Olive has to say about this snapshot.

Olive Gets a Monkey

In dogs, humor, lifestyle, pets, weimaraners, writing on 01/12/2012 at 8:11 pm

Dog Yin, Doll Yang

In dogs, humor, lifestyle, pets, weimaraners, writing on 01/11/2012 at 10:09 am

"Are you KIDDING me?"

Beautiful dog, ugly doll.

Ring Around The Tail

In dogs, humor, lifestyle, pets, weimaraners, writing on 01/07/2012 at 7:41 pm

"I win!"

Olive’s Poetry

In dogs, humor, lifestyle, pets, weimaraners, writing on 12/10/2011 at 8:15 am

"TAKE the picture."

It amazes me how many of the photos I take of Olive feel like visual poetry. Really, I may have a better eye than many amateur photographers, but Olive is so beautiful, so graceful, so full of personality that she was made for the “point and shoot” camera. This is also the dog that planted her front paws on my rear end this morning as I crouched down with my head inside her 48-inch crate trying to find her beloved “yellow dog” which had apparently been swallowed up by the whale of the winter comforter that forms a toasty nest inside her den. She was trying to retrieve her tattered stuffed orange duck which I had just placed on top of her crate. (Although it was taxing to have this 60-pound dog using me as a step ladder, it did make me laugh.) What a picture that would have made. Dog using ass to reach toy stranded on crate roofline. It is the one toy that she’s had since she was a puppy that she did not eviscerate and empty of its faux organs. Until now. While rearranging the comforter (yes, I was “making” Olive’s bed), I picked up “orange duck” and noticed the stuffing had been exposed at its frail, limp neck. Unfortunately, because Olive likes to eat some of the stuffing, smacking her lips as though trying to gum a cloud, I have to take the toy carcasses away from her. Last night while we were watching TV, I caught her chewing on a squeaker, which she no doubt would have eaten. “OLIVE, IF YOU SWALLOW THAT, WE’LL HAVE TO TAKE YOU TO THE ANIMAL HOSPITAL WHERE THEY WILL HAVE TO OPEN YOU UP LIKE YOU OPEN YOUR STUFFED ANIMALS. ” She stops chewing for a second, sensing some discussion of importance, and I use this opportunity to extract the tooth-riddled clear plastic squeaker from her mouth. Most days it feels like I have 19-month old child and not a dog. Weimaraners are great training for anyone thinking of having a baby.

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