Rain, Rain, Rainie

            I have so much to tell you this week — and so many pictures, too! I’ve been holding this in since Thursday and I’m fairly bursting at the seams with excitement!

“What’s going on, Peg?” you ask.

I told you some time ago that I wanted to get a pup for Bondi. There are times she wants to play puppy dog games with puppy dog rules. Mike and I don’t like her rules and she won’t play by ours. The disappointment in her eyes is palpable.

Speaking of rules, the rules say you have to wait for me to tell you a story before you see the pictures. I know some of you are going to break that rule, skip all the jibber-jabber, and scroll right down to a picture because you’ve been waiting since Thursday to see our new baby. So here she is.

“What’s her name?” you ask.

On that one, I’m gonna hold you to the rules. You’ll have to read on to find out — unless you’ve guessed!

So, I’ve wanted a pup for some time now. At first, I thought to sit back and see what comes my way, but nothing was coming my way. Every day I’d have to face the sad eyes of a dog that wants to play and has no one to play with. I decided to take a more proactive approach. I’ve been contacting shelters in my area but they don’t much like to give out information on Messenger, which is texting for Facebook.

“All of our pups are on our website,” I was told by more than one.

Here’s the thing. Sometimes they hold small breed dogs back so they can be pickier about who they re-home them with and they may never appear on the website. Another thing is websites aren’t always kept up to date.

After suffering disappointment after disappointment, I took a new tack.

“Would you save your newspaper for me?” I asked the Kipps.

“Sure,” Lamar and Rosie said. Our local paper only comes out once a week.

They never asked why and when Mike wasn’t within ear shot, I told them. “I want to watch the ads for pups.” Mike was adamant about not getting another dog. When we first talked about it, he said, “If we get another dog, I’d like to get a Blue Heeler. They’re good dogs — and so smart!”

Mike had one when he was married to Anna Marie a hundred years ago. The dog’s name was Blue and Blue was a big help on the horse farm as well as good company when they went on runs in the semi. “I’d let her out, she’d do her business and come right back,” Mike said. “I never had to worry about her. And no-body-but-no-body better mess with the truck while I was gone either! She’d protect it.”

Mike, knowing I wanted a pup, even went so far as to search the internet for Heelers near us. Most of the pups were in the twelve hundred-to-twenty-five-hundred-dollar range. He gave up.

But since then, every time I’d bring up the stopping at a shelter thing, he was sticking to his no-more-dogs guns.

So, I was searching on the sly. I knew in my heart that Mike wouldn’t deny me if I found one I really wanted.

Pups weren’t coming up, at least none that I would consider. Steph knows a lot of people, I thought. I’ll get her to keep an ear out for me. She also still works. I remember when I worked in a factory. It seemed like every spring people were looking to get rid of pups.

My beautiful neighbor Stephanie said she’d be happy to let me know if she hears of any. It wasn’t long until she sent me a link for Yorkie pups. “I don’t know the breeder but I know some of the people who’re tagged,” she told me.

I made inquiries and they were sixteen-hundred. Needless to say, they were so far out of my price range it might just as well be outer space.

Then a suggested page came up on my Facebook newsfeed. A private group for people wanting Heelers or wanting to get rid of Heelers.

“Why do you want to join this group?” they always ask.

“I’m looking for a pup,” I said and was accepted into the group.

Gosh! Oh! My! Gosh! So many people were looking to re-home their Heelers. Sometimes they had to move and couldn’t take them. Sometimes a new baby comes in and they’re afraid. Sometimes they can’t give the dogs enough attention or exercise. Sometimes the Heeler tries to herd chickens, or cats, or the kids.

“A bored Heeler is a destructive Heeler,” someone said.

But I was not looking to take on someone else’s problem. I wanted a pup. It seems like pups and kittens enter a home with existing pets a lot easier than adults already set in their personalities do.

Last week a lady posted. “I’m looking for a Heeler pup. Willing to drive.”

I trolled the comments and people were responding with pups they had. Some weren’t old enough yet and that was okay by me. If it’s the right price and not too far, I could wait. I messaged three people from this post telling them I was looking for a female pup. “How much are you asking and where are you located?”

“My females are a thousand,” one lady said. I don’t know if she told me where she was or not because I stopped reading right then and there.

“I only have one female and we may keep her,” another told me.

“I’ve got six females. Two hundred,” Brad answered and he posted a picture.

I could see Brad’s location as Fairmont, West Virginia. I opened a new window, opened my Distance Between Cities app and put the information in.

Three hundred twenty-three miles, the app said. Five hours and forty minutes drive time.

Oh my gosh! That was doable! I got so excited but had to dampen my hopes down. If Mike says no then it’s no.

I broached the subject from my recliner one evening during a commercial break in whatever show we were watching. “There’s a guy on Facebook that has Heeler pups.”

Mike showed a little interest. “Oh yeah?” At least it wasn’t an outright no.

I pulled the picture up, turned the iPad toward him and said, “See?” I was encouraged when he took the iPad to study the picture.

“How much are they?”

“Two hundred,” I said.

That’s cheap for a pure breed Heeler and Mike knows it.

“Hmph,” he said.

I knew better than to force it.

After a bit, like the next commercial, Mike said, “What are they mixed with?”

“I think they’re pure bred, but I’ll ask.”

Brad not only confirmed that they were, he sent me pictures of Mom and Pop which I showed to Mike.

“Hmph,” he said again.

I waited.

“Does he have a runt?” Mike asked after a while.

I messaged Brad again. “Do you have a runt and is it a female?”

“Yes, and it is a female.”

“Hmph.” Mike said. After a while, he asked, “Does he have any pictures?”

Once again, I went back to Brad and he sent me pictures of the little female runt.

“Hmph.” I bet you know who said that.

I didn’t push it, I just waited.

The next evening, during recliner time, Mike says, “If he still has that runt, you can have her.”

The grin split my face wide open! I didn’t waste any time getting back with Brad. He still had her.

“We can’t come until Thursday,” I told him.

“Okay. And you want the one I sent pictures of?” he asked.

“Yes, if she’s the runt.”

“She is and her ears were the first of the bunch to stand up. I’ll hold her for you,” Brad said.

We had a lot of communication back and forth about where to meet. Brad’s job was thirty minutes closer so he offered to take her to work with him and meet us at a Pilot gas station. We agreed.

The wait for Thursday was interminable and only made tolerable because we were busy. I was having trouble sleeping.

“I hope it’s just because I’m excited about getting a new pup,” I told Mike.

Wednesday, Bondi had a vet appointment. We left early to run a few errands.

“We’ll stop at the bank and get cash for the pup,” Mike said.

In my mind’s eye I could see him walking out with a fistful of twenties. “Just get hundreds,” I told him. “It’ll be easier to count.”

“What about fifties?” Mike asked.

“Two one-hundred-dollar bills is easier. One! Two! Done! But get whatever you want.”

Another stop I wanted to make was at the thrift store. We’re driving down the main street in Towanda when I see this. A woman with a three-quarter length coat.

“What’s wrong with that?” you ask.

It was ninety-one degrees outside!

At the thrift store I bought a couple of oversized men’s tee shirts to wear over my leggings for around the house comfort. And I found a book I thought that handsome Lamar might like. Find It Fast in the Bible, The Ultimate A to Z Resource.

“If I want to know where something is, I Google it,” I told him when I handed it to him.

Lamar flipped through it but didn’t think he’d use it much. I thought of my beautiful Jody. She has, and can, and does, use the internet but she is one of those people who likes to hold a paper copy in their hands. “Yes! That would be awesome!” she said when I offered it to her.

Bondi saw Dr. K instead of Dr. Lori. She said Bondi has five baby teeth that need to come out, so we scheduled that. She also gave me advice on brushing Bondi’s teeth.

“Ideally you should brush them every day but if you only do it three times a week, that would help tremendously,” she said.

Wednesday night, I got a message from Steph with another link to Yorkie pups. “I know you love the Yorkies. Again, I don’t know the breeder but I do know some of the people tagged.”

“I already committed to getting a Blue Heeler,” I told her. “Otherwise, I’d be all over it.”

As I sat there in my recliner, I got to thinking about it and decided to message the person, just for shits and grins.

“They’re one fifty and I’m in Meshoppen,” she said.

Now I had something to think about. Let’s see, it’s fifty dollars cheaper and five hours closer. A no-brainer. “Mike,” I said hesitantly. “Do you have your heart set on a Heeler?”

“Why?”

“There’s Yorkies right down the road and they’re cheaper.”

The thought of a five-hour car ride didn’t appeal much to Mike either. “Does she have a female?”

I asked and she said she had two.

“Okay,” Mike said. “Let’s go get it.”

“Can I come tonight?” I messaged.

“Yes. Sure,” came the reply.

Mike put his recliner down and started putting his shoes on.

“Wait!” I exclaimed. “She hasn’t told me where she’s at yet!”

“So. We’ll be on the way when she does.”

I’m not about to argue. I didn’t really care what kind of pup I got as long as it was a small breed.

We jumped in the car and headed for Meshoppen. Crossing our little creek, I see a doe standing in the water with her fawn. “Wait a minute. Back up,” I commanded.

Mike didn’t ask why until he’d already stopped and put the car in reverse. She stood there for as long as I wanted to take pictures of her.

“What are you gonna tell the other guy?” Mike wanted to know.

“The truth.”

It was just past seven, the sky was beautiful and getting more beautiful by the minute.

“I bet you’re glad I got fifties now,” Mike said and he was right.

We get into Meshoppen and this gal still hasn’t gotten back to me.

“Tell her we’re at the pizza place,” Mike said.

I messaged her but got no answer.

“Maybe she’s busy with the kids or maybe they’re in the middle of dinner,” I suggested. “I’m going to take pictures of that old building.” I’ve taken pictures of this place before and shared the history with you so I’m not going to elaborate in this letter blog.

I get back in the car, check my phone, and see I don’t have any service.

“We’ll go up to the gas station,” Mike said.

I wanted him to go the whole way to the top where the sun was shining on the buildings, but didn’t say so. 

Mike pulled in and as he turned the car around, I see that spectacular sunset.

I picked out eight of the more than a hundred pictures I took. That sounds resonable but maybe a little superfluous. Here’s one.

We waited and we waited and we waited for this lady to send me her address. We were both getting aggravated.

“Let’s call Steph,” Mike suggested. When she answered he told her what was going on.

“I’ll see what I can find out,” Steph said.

I kept sending messages to this lady hoping the ping of an incoming message would get her attention. “We’re here! Where are you?” Finally, she answered me.

“Sorry. I’m here now. They’re all gone.”

We were shocked.

“I told you to give me a deposit to hold it for you,” she said.

“You never told me that.”

“Well, even if I did you wouldn’t send the money so what’s the use.”

Steph called Mike back. “It’s a scam. She’s a real person and she had Yorkie pups at one time. Someone cloned her account. They sent my friend a request for a deposit five times! ‘When are you going to send the money?’ they asked her. She said, ‘Uh never! Cause you’re a scam and I’m reporting you!’ They even told her they were in a different town than Meshoppen!”

Steph was sorry she sent me the link but she need’t be. I’d never’ve sent a deposit. All it cost us was a little time and a little of that expensive go juice we put in the car.

“It wasn’t a total loss,” I told Mike. “I got some good pictures for my letter blog and a story to tell.”

The sky was beautiful coming home and my camera clicking didn’t slow down much. Here’s three shots for you.

Bondi is happy to see us when we get home. She excited pees. Not much, just a dribble. I won’t feed into her excitement and have gotten into the habit of ignoring her. I’ll say hello and walk her to the kitchen door. After she goes out and pees, I’ll love on her.

The kitchen faces sorta east and the sun was setting in the west. I bet you knew that’s the direction the sun sets in before I even told you. The light coming over the house lit my backyard in a yellow glow.        

I went out front and took another picture, the last one of this sunset I’ll show you. The pictures don’t do it justice.

Even though I knew for days that we were going to get a Heeler pup, I didn’t say anything to my peeps in my morning love note, not until Thursday morning.

“Mike and I are going 5 hours to WV to pick up a pup. A Blue Heeler this time. I found one for a good price and she's 7 weeks old. Can you say, ‘Road pictures!’”

We were out the door by five thirty. It was starting to get light and it was drizzly and foggy.

“Are we going to have storms the whole way?” I asked Mike. “Hey! We could call her Stormie!”

“I don’t think we’re going to have storms, just rain.”

“Rainie? We could call her Rainie.”

“Doesn’t your brother have a daughter Rani?”

“Step daughter. We could spell it different and explain why we named her that.” I thought for a moment. “How about just Rain?”

“Naw. Dogs do better with a two-syllable name.”

“Rain-rain?”

Frown from the other side of the car.

All this long trip I kept trying to think of names. “Maybe she’ll have a lop ear and we could call her Loppy.” Mike frowned. “How about Nuffy cause she’s enough?” That earned me another frown.

It didn’t rain the whole way; in fact, the sun came out once or twice. “How about Sunnie? Trish has a daughter named Sunni but I don’t think she’d care.”

Speaking of my beautiful West Virginia gal, Mike said, “Why don’t you call her and ask her to meet us?”

“I asked her how far it was for her and she said a couple of hours. I’m not going to ask her to make the drive. Besides, we’ll be anxious to get home so we won’t want to visit for as long as I’d wanna visit.”

Even though we did have rain off and on for a good part of the trip, I still managed to get lots of pictures for you.

“Did you see that barn?” I asked. “It had its two ends and nothing in the middle.” By the time I’d seen it, the best angle was gone. I clicked away anyway. “I’ll have to look for it on the way home.”

Something else I was on the lookout for were Sheetz trucks. They have that art project and the trucks are kinda cool. I saw the first one and watched it go by on the other side of the highway. The next one I saw was on our side and much more difficult to photograph. Did that stop me from trying? NO! I stitched some pictures together to give you the whole side in one shot. 

“Help me watch for them,” I said to Mike. 

It was only a few minutes till my morning love calls. We’ll probably see one when I’m on the phone, I thought.

Sure enough, I was chatting away when Mike got my attention and pointed. I snapped one picture! One! It’s not even good enough to see the artwork! I guess my mind wasn’t really on the task.

It’s scary how prophetic I can be sometimes!

“Woodycrest? Toftress? Who comes up with these names?” Mike asked.

“I don’t know.”

We spent a little time reading names.

“There’s Waddle.”

We only made one stop on the way down and that was so Mike could get out and stretch more than to get gas, but we did that, too.

Can you say, “Road pictures?”

Accident, Maryland. Is this an omen?

Brad asked me to give him a thirty-minute heads up. We were to meet at noon but we’d be in about 10:30. “He said it’s okay, he could take off work.”

We had just crossed into West Virginia and I’d given Brad his thirty-minute warning when a guy coming from the other direction came into sight, furiously flashing his headlights.

“Cop,” Mike said and EVERYONE eased back on the gas pedals.

We hadn’t gone far when we were stopped.

“Accident?”

“I don’t know but you better let Brad know,” Mike said.

“I think it might be construction,” Brad replied.

Well, it turns out it was an accident but we were too far back to see anything.

“Sirens,” I told Brad and a firetruck passed us on the shoulder.

People started turning around in the median and we crept closer.

“Look at that,” Mike said. “He’s gonna scrape the whole back of his trailer. I don’t know that I would’ve done that.”

“Bend the tongue?” I asked.

“No but he can bend the lights on the back or scrape off wires.”

After a while a guy a couple of cars ahead of us gets out with binoculars. He stands and watches for a while then comes back to the one car in between him and us and starts talking and gesturing.

“Go find out what’s going on,” I said to Mike.

“You can go talk to him.”

I considered it and with a little more urging from Mike, I did. I got out and walked up to him. “What’s going on?” I asked.

“There’s a car upside down in our lane and,” he paused and put the binoculars back up to his eyes. “It looks like there’s a semi taking up the other lane and the shoulder.”

We stood and chatted. The guy with the binoculars was headed to Charleston. The guy in the van got out and he’s heading to a graduation.

“I wanted to get there for recess and be home by three. I’ve got Bible Study tonight. But if I miss recess I’ll stay for graduation and get home later. That won’t give me much time to prepare,” Zane said.

Recess? Graduation? I didn’t ask.

“I sure hope no one was killed,” Zane said.

“Me too!” I agreed. “If there was a fatality the road’ll be closed for hours.”

Binoculars gave us updates as much as he was able. An ambulance came and blocked his view of the overturned car.

“The ambulance is leaving. He doesn’t have any lights on.”

“That’s a good sign,” I thought aloud.

A wrecker came.

“It looks like they’re sweeping the fast lane,” Binoculars said.

The conversation here isn’t real time. There was lots of small talk in between the highlights.

Then cars started moving and I got back in our car.

Mike picked up his phone. “Here,” he said. “Look at this.”

What he handed me was a picture he took of me standing talking to Binoculars and Zane.

“Great! Now that’s an old lady butt if I ever saw one!”

Mike grinned. “I thought you might like it for your blog.”

Yeah. No. We don’t like to have our illusions shattered. “Gee, thanks,” I said sarcastically.

I let Brad know we were on the move again and we crept past the accident scene. The car had the most damage to the front passenger side, the semi to his rear driver’s side trailer wheel. What do you think happened?

Mike fell in with a pack trying to make up some of our lost hour and we made the thirty-minute drive in about twenty.

“I’m in a red Jeep,” Brad told me.

“There he is!” Brad was sitting right near the road where he could watch for us.

I fly out of the car. “Hi Brad! Hey, I’m so sorry about your wait! Oh, look at that beauty!” Then I was within petting range. “Hi, sweetheart!” I gushed. “She’s so soft! Way softer than I expected.”

“Is that the mom in there?” Mike asked.

“That’s her dad.” Brad went to the door and called. “C’mere Magnum.”

“He’s handsome!” I exclaimed.

“Isn’t he handsome,” Brad agreed. He opened the door and let Magnum out.

 Magnum sniffed around a little but stayed close to Brad. “He goes everywhere with me. He’s my buddy.”

Brad told us he’s a contractor and because of the rain, they weren’t working today. That made me feel a little better about our unavoidable delay.

Our little girl was wiggly and squirmy in my arms. “She hasn’t peed in a couple of hours,” Brad said.

I put her down but she didn’t do anything. I bent to pick her back up and Magnum collided with the side of my head, surprising me. “Oh, hello there jealous,” I said setting my glasses straight again.

“C’mere Magnum,” Brad called.

Magnum leapt his forepaws up on Brad and stepped on the pup. She yelped.

“She’ll be seven weeks old on Tuesday and I gave them their five-way shot at six weeks. They need their seven-way at nine weeks,” Brad said.

Mike gave Brad his money.

“Thank you for not charging so much for your pups,” I told Brad. “That’s really the only way we could afford her.”

“Yeah. You’re welcome. I charged a lot more for them last year but I got stuck with two and had to lower the price. And now I have a double litter of pups. There’s these six and another litter with three. So I decided to keep the price low so I could sell all of ‘em.”

We did chat for about fifteen minutes but Mike wanted to get back on the road and get home before it got too late. I made sure I had the particulars in my head but Brad said I could message him if I needed anything.

It started to rain. We said our goodbyes and got back in the car. Bondi was not impressed. Every time the baby tried to get into her seat with her, she’d jump over into Mike’s lap. I got the baby out and Bondi back in her car seat and she looked at me with accusing eyes.

“Traitor,” they seemed to say.

Trying to keep a rambunctious baby out of Bondi’s seat and Bondi in was a challenge. After the fourth or fifth round I saw Bondi had two long tear streaks down her cheeks.

“Aww. Poor baby,” I told her, wiped ‘em away and kissed her head. “You’re still my best girl and we’re not going to let the baby have your seat.”

After I covered Bondi with a towel, she snuggled down.

I held the pup and she settled down. For the most part she slept. We passed through the rain and I could take pictures again.

This place reminded me of a primitive village my kids went to on field trips. I don’t remember the name of it anymore.

Then I see a sign for Old Bedford Village and guess it's much the same thing.

The baby woke up, yawned, and stretched. She put her paws on my belly and gave my neck and chin a little nibble.

“You stinker. Stop that,” I told her.

She thought that was fun and her tail went a hundred miles an hour. “Look at her tail wag. We could call her Wags!” That one didn’t even dignify a no. She slept for a while and got wiggly like she wanted down. “How about Wiggles?”

“Stop! Peg! You’re killin’ me!” you say.

I know, right! Corny.

I got her to settle down again and she pushed her head under my arm and behind my back.

We ran into another cloudburst and that was the end of the picture making for a while. “Stormie?” I tried again.

“I like Rainie better than Stormie,” Mike said.

When the rain cleared, we were back where that barn had only ends and no middle.

Rainie started to whimper.

“Should I pull over?” Mike asked.

“No. We’ve pulled over at exits for the dogs before and I’ve never had much luck getting them to go. She’ll have to wait.”

At the next rest area Mike pulled in. Rainie peed right away and Mike took her back to the car.

           I tried to get Bondi to go. I wasn’t having any luck with that but I did manage to get a shot of a butterfly on blackberry flowers. This is Horace's Duskywing.

I was having trouble getting Rainie to settle down so I ended up putting her on the floor. As long as she had her head on my foot, she was happy, and rode the rest of the way home like that.

Mike was tired and visited with his recliner while I cleaned out the car and took care of the girls. Now that they weren’t confined to a small space and could run and tussle and tumble, Bondi and Rainie seemed to get along fine.

It’s funny because they are both submissive. They roll over onto their backs for each other. Sometimes Bondi would be on top, sometimes it was Rainie.

When the cats started to wander in for the night, they were a little leery. Rainie did get up and was nose to nose with Spitfire but she walked right past Tiger and Blackie and paid them no-never-mind.

That night, Rainie slept with us for the first time. I set my alarm for one and five to take her out but she didn’t make it till one. She had me awake at midnight then again at four. After we get back into bed it takes her a while to settle down and she’ll nip at anything she can reach. The tender underside of my arm, my face. We are discouraging this behavior. Her little teeth are so sharp. And I’ll tell you something else! Those are not claws on the end of her feet either! They’re more like needles! Sharp, sharp, sharp! I’ve got the marks to prove it!

“Can I use the Pedi-Paws on her little nails?” I asked Mike.

“Yep.”

“How ‘bout those teeth?” I really was only joking.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

Rainie drinks a lot and she’s really good about peeing when I take her outside. She’ll squat almost right away. All of our other dogs I’d have to beg to get them to pee. But I suspected she was peeing outside because I was taking her out. She proved me right Friday night when she peed in the house for the first time. I scolded her and took her out.

Rainie is really smart. She found the box of treats and plunged her head right in. Bondi could get them there, too, if she wanted, but she doesn’t have any interest in those treats. I had to move them.

Rainie learned how to use the pet door the very first day. She followed Bondi through.

“What are you going to do when she gets too big for that little door?” you wanna know.

We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

Something else that Rainie has mastered right away are pet steps. We had to show her how to use them to get up into the recliner but after that she figured out the ones by the bed on her own.

We’ve had a couple of spats between the two girls. The first time was over treats. Bondi has always been possessive of her treats. Even before Rainie, if one of the cats walked by too close while she was eating her treats, she’d snip and snarl at them.

The first night at treat time in my recliner, I gave Bondi hers and Rainie hers and Bondi thought Rainie was too close. She bit Rainie’s ear. I scolded Bondi. Then I thought better of it. Rainie will get bigger and stronger than Bondi. I’m going to let Bondi teach her manners while she’s still little enough to be taught. In fact, I’m encouraging Bondi.

The second treat night in the recliner, Bondi took her treats and went to the floor. After she finished, she came back up to my lap and Rainie started to play-nip at her. Bondi tore into her and they had a knock-down drag-out fight until they tumbled off the end of the foot rest.

It was a terrible sounding fight.

But no blood was involved so I praised Bondi.

The Kipps came up Friday morning to meet Rainie. Miss Rosie tried to snuggle with her but she wasn’t having too much of that. She’s just doesn’t want to be held too much.

A quick search of the internet tells me that’s the nature of Heelers.

I don’t think Rainie paid much attention to Tux at all but she went over to Lamar and he picked her up. Little Miss Jealous jumped up to get some loves.

Rainie heard me, got up on the arm of the chair and started across the stump-turned-table. I thought she was coming to me but she found Lamar’s hat and handkerchief, made a circle and plopped right down in the middle of it. I was afraid she would roll out.  

When she didn’t, I got up and took a picture of that sweet face.

Friday afternoon I got a message from the lady who thought she was going to keep her female.

“We decided not to keep her if you’re still interested,” she said.

“Thank you but I found another one,” I told her.

Although Saturday is generally devoted to writing and bare necessities, it was necessary for me to take Rainie out into the yard to play. Bondi followed.

I’m starting to see Rainie’s natural herding instincts kick in. I see her nipping at Bondi’s haunches to get her moving then she’ll come up beside her and push her the direction she wants her to go.

“Bondi!” I call. “Don’t take that! Get her!”

Bondi turned and gave Rainie a nip.

Just so my time away from blogging wasn’t totally wasted, I pulled some weeds and tossed them into the yard for the mower. Next thing I know, my fingers are being nipped. I turned around and looked. It was Bondi. She loves to catch the weeds when I throw them. She’s so into this game that she cheats and grabs them before I let go. I’ve got marks from that, too!

Bondi had a mouthful of grass and Rainie grabbed an end for tug of war. Who needs a rope when you have grass!

I have more stories and pictures but we’re going to wrap this one up.

          I only have one question for you, so, this is up for a vote. How do you think we should spell Rainie? Just like I have all this blog with an ie? Drop the e? Use a y instead? Your vote counts!

          Let’s call this one done!