This year we decided to break it to Skipper and Slouch that there really is no Santa Claus. Or Santa Claws, or Hanukkah Hairy, or even red-nosed Rudolph and his herd of yummy reindeer. The Easter Bunny is another story because they swear they’ve seen it. Hundreds of it. ”Fine, yes, the Easter Bunny brings you those little, brown pellet-shaped treats scattered around the yard.” I mean, we had to let them believe in something. Slouch (Dodger), as you can see, didn’t take it very well.
Category Archives: The Adventures of Skipper & Slouch
Skipper and Slouch aren’t the only adopted canines in our life.
First there was Spud. When I first met my (soon-to-be) husband, Chris, the love of his life was Spud. She was his rescue mutt and the sweetest little fuzzy baked potato I’ve ever rocked to sleep on a first date. I think I fell in love with Spud at first sight, which was quite a shock if you’ve never seen a 25 pound, furry potato with stubby legs before. Read More »
Oliver and Dodger. Skipper and Slouch. Salt and Pepper. Grover and Elmo. Comet and Cupid. Jerry and Bobby. Roger and Pete. Bingo and Bongo. Click and Clack. Thing 1 and Thing 2. Ernie and Bert. Marco and Polo. Yin and Yang. They ALL wish you a Happy Thanksgiving and want to know if you’re gonna eat that.
Sometimes it takes more than words to give thanks.
Sometimes it takes a Pinterest Page!
And a treat or two.
See, and you thought we were gonna go get all sappy on you. Being adopted and all that. Nope, that’s what this is for.
Daylight Savings. Just when you thought it was getting a bit nippy on those “after work” dog walks, they go and make it dark out. Welcome to November on Porcupine Farm, where getting home and letting the dogs out to pee takes on a whole new dedication. I now gear up like I’m going mountain climbing in the Alps. And I have to put the boys on their leashes, which isn’t really fun if we’re not actually going on a brisk sunset walk to visit with the dairy cows up the road. Too bad they don’t let dogs on the treadmill at the gym. Read More »
Dodger and Oliver are getting a little old to just be throwing on their Skipper & Slouch Superhero capes (and masks) and running out their doggy door to save the world from disaster. Too bad because they are so cute when they try to fly. They wish they could now, fly down to New York City, as it’s been difficult watching Hurricane Sandy (call it what you want) devour and digest NYC. The tri-state area is my hometown. I, personally, was born at New York University Hospital, I was raised ten floors in the air on 82nd Street, I am intimate with the bridges, tunnels, and tolls that shoot cars around the city like a pinballs, and I made my first love on the sands of those shores of Long Island. mmmmm… TMI? Let’s just say I’m a New Yawker at heart and Sandy stings. Read More »
I know. It’s all about Halloween, and you were expecting to see Skipper and Slouch all costumed up and tricked out like Salt and Pepper or Batman and Robin or John and Yoko or fuzzy barnyard animals, and I am sorry to disappoint. We just don’t get real creative at Halloween. To us, the best part of the night is when our ONE trick-or-treater arrives – our grand (gasp)-nephew, Paul. This is him above, being freakin’ adorable after a looooong day. Of course, we had no candy left (ahem) and I felt so lame, all I had to give him was a box of yummy raisins. Oh, and he was pretty taken with the fly swatter so we let him keep it. And as you can see below, he made a darned cute Oliver/Skipper, and he could not quite figure out why everyone around him was cracking up. Just the way the little hoofs flopped and and down when he walked had me in hysterics. I love that kid! The boys weren’t quite sure what to make of him. They found somewhere else to hang out. Read More »
Skipper and Slouch were the (almost) perfect walking partners this past Saturday, helping me log two more miles on my “Pink Power Mission,” tagging along on the Cancer Resource Center of the Finger Lakes’ Walkathon in Ithaca, NY. Okay, so maybe the boys aren’t so great on their leashes, in crowds, with toddlers, and food, and (gasp) other dogs – but they’re so cute, they can easily be forgiven for tackling the first Pomeranian they see. Maybe they thought it was Bella – hahaha. Nothing like a few small dog shrieks to raise awareness, I guess, as I’m tangled up in pink leashes, saying ”no! no! no!”, I half expected someone to shout back, “Wrong walk! The SPCA March for Animals was last weekend.”, which it was. I will need stronger leashes for that one.
And, wow, were we pooped when we got home. So we hit the couch and relaxed, cuddling in the cozy blankets because there’s nothing like a little quality time in the sunshine with my two headed wonderdog.
It’s WALK Season! Well, it’s always walk season with the boys, but October seems to bring the longer walks, the group walks, you know – the pink walks. And the pink collars! This weekend is a Walkathon that is especially close to my heart – the Cancer Resource Center of the Finger Lakes Walk & 5k here in Ithaca. Someday I hope I can do the 5k part, but for now I will stick to a conversational pace and walk two of of the most meaningful miles I could ever walk. I can’t wait to hit Cayuga Waterfront Trail pavement with Skipper and Slouch and their pink collars. And maybe my husband, but I just can’t get him to wear a pink collar. Read More »
It made me kinda sad to learn that the boys aren’t really “dog toy” dogs. I mean, they don’t rip stuffed squirrels to shreds, and they don’t attack and destroy every fuzzy, squeaky toy ever presented to them. They’re just not into toys, but that’s probably because they have each other. In fact, they actually use the toys they do have more as pawns in a giant “I Have More Toys So I Win” game of life. It’s kinda fun to see how they torment each other with treats and toys. And I swear they keep score.
We’re just hours away from October, the pinkest month of the year! I’m always thinking about breast cancer and how to raise awareness. It’s not like the flu, kids. You don’t just catch it and take a few aspirin until you feel better. Breast cancer kicked my butt in 2005. As a matter of fact, this is the one and only bald photo of me during chemo, and it was taken exactly seven years ago today, or this week, or about the time you are reading this. Please ignore the mismatched sheets and new (gasp, silver?) hair. I was incredibly reluctant to have photos taken, but my husband insisted on this one because Dodger (aka Slouch) spent a good four weeks glued to my side. Scroll down to see my “seven years after” photo. Read More »