Fabulous Friday!

One early concern about summering in New York was that my mom does not have a fenced in yard, and I was none too keen on the possibility of our Milton wandering off.  Upon arrival, however, we noticed that when Milton was let outside off leash, he always stuck very close to the house, which I attributed to his loyal goldendoodle attributes and his time spent hunting at the land with Pop.  With the house situated down a long drive from a major road, surrounded by woods on three sides, and the lake on the fourth, I felt very confident allowing Milton to be basically loosey goosey when let outside.  I might have been a bit overzealous with this idea...

Yesterday, however, Milt Dog lost this honored privilege specifically because he has a penchant for ducks.  Yes, those quackers.  They will undoubtedly lead to his undoing one day.  When Milton is let outside, he will quite often scamper down to the lake and return with wet paws and chicken legs.  If I let him out, and frenzied barking, quacking, and a giant splash ensues, I know that the dood is in hot pursuit of a flock of mallards.  There is actually one particular mother duck with a whole brood down by our dock, and when Milton nears, she will noisily paddle in one direction, creating a distraction, while urging her ducklings to take the opposite route, which will cause Milt, every single time, to race down the beach after the mom, who will inevitably begin to fly further out into the water, forcing Milton to swim after her.

Normally, this is not too terrible of a situation because our cove is rather deserted (lots of retirees and summer homes), but this time, our playful goldendoodle ran off with his bright green tennis ball jammed in his mouth and stopped to visit a house of nearby summer renters.  He ran out on their dock and demanded to play ball.  As one of the renters explained to me, "I tried to get him to go back home by throwing the ball onto your property, but he just kept bringing it back to me!"  Lady, that is called "fetch."  What did you expect him to do!?  After I hauled Milton back over into our yard, he immediately returned to their dock to continue the game.  The underlying problem here is that Milt used to come racing when I called for him down at the lake, and now he does not.  Sad but true.

Rapunzel in his tower.

Well, after yesterday's incident, mean Momma broke out the yellow lead line, and Milton the wanderlust was banished from the water for the remainder of the day.  He was none too happy about this and spent the majority of his time brooding on the deck or inside sulking on his bed.  I know puppies will be puppies, but Milt's safety is a priority, and a rowdy, wet dog disturbing the neighbors never turns out well...

Thankful Thursday

All day yesterday it rained, and rained, and rained some more.  A drizzle in the fall or spring isn't so bad, but when you have a heavy downpour on a warm summer day, it is a, to write like I speak, big bummer.

Milt likes the process of getting wet rather than being wet.

We were flexible though.  The day started off with some housewarming baking.

Milt stays close during cooking -- He thinks you should continuously lick up as you go.

Pumpkin banana muffins!

Blondies - best recipe ever - Blondies, Infinitely Adaptable

Well, you certainly can't bake all day long.  It got a bit boring after that, especially since the rain postponed our normal morning walk.

Dejected

Later that afternoon, we finally snuck in a walk, but then we were back to trapped in the house.  By evening, our goldendoodle needed some more exercise since Mom and I had plans to see Mary Poppins at our local theater.   Being a good Momma, I threw on a rain jacket and lobbed a bunch of balls off the dock for Milt.  We always end our ball throwing sessions with a romp in the yard, and this is when our day finally got a little interesting.

After a particular toss, Milton emerged from the woods with a certain lightness about him - a skip in his step, a twinkle in his eye, a proud prance, really a joie de vivre, if you may.  If you are a dog owner, you can probably guess what comes next.

It honestly looks like something you would buy in one of those mega-Halloween stores that pops up around the holiday.

Yup, a dead something or other.  It was quite possibly the grossest thing I have seen in at least the past maybe five or so years.

Bewildered

Milt, of course, did not understand what the big fuss was all about.  Momma screaming, "Yucky!" at the top of her lungs after he found such a treasure seemed awfully odd to him.  Then since Daddy Dog is obviously not around, the disposal of this rotting corpse fell to me.  It was time to get the shovel.  That's when you know it is serious.  This was not your average dead fish that you could scoop up with a plastic grocery bag.  Oh, no.  This was heavy duty.  I only like to use a shovel on, let's say, a snowy Christmas morning.  Other than that, I have zero use for one.  As I was simultaneously scooping and gagging, Milton did another happy dance out of the bushes with the below. 

A pelvis and femur - I am positive - I got an up close view.

Both of these lovely animal pieces, I tossed into the woods.  The femur section actually got hung up on a tree, and I considered knocking it to the ground, but hanging in the tree might be best. When Mom asked me what type of animal the creature was, my reply was that it was larger than a squirrel but smaller than a raccoon.  Quite possibly, it could be a possum.  Those darn varmints must have followed us all the way up from Texas!

With all this rain, it is easy to feel downcast, but as someone recently reminded me, "The flowers need rain."  Yes, that is certainly looking on the bright side of things, and as I always tend to remind Jeff and myself, "Place rose colored glasses on your nose.  And you will see the robins.  Not the crows" (Chicago).  On that positive note, when will this residual stink of death leave Milt's curls?  Hopefully (Note the positivity there?), soon.

Whimsical Wednesday

After Grand Nan witnessed this blatant act of disrespect on her king-size bed...

Naughty AND wet goldendoodle since he had just taken a dip in the lake!

she decided to throw the dog a bone.  

What a caring grandma.

Blankets on the couches -- It's like Animal Farm over here.  We're going to the dogs!

Terrific Tuesday

Well, Milt found his favorite spot in the house which just so happens to not be my Mom's favorite spot for him in her house.

To mimic what my dad always used to say, "I'm a big guy."

If you hadn't already guessed, Milton on the furniture at Mom's house has been a major reoccurring theme.  Really, I suppose, I am to blame because I jammed my little car sky-high with stuff, and that stuff did not include any of Milton's dog beds, selfish, I know.  I did, however, bring an old fleece crate liner and blankets, but he has clearly snubbed his nose at that; our goldendoodle is a bit fussy.  Oh, bother.  The best part of all of this is watching my petite mother attempt to haul the big boy off the couch by gently grabbing his collar and stating, "Down, Milton, down" -- priceless, like that would ever work...

Marvelous Monday

Summer vacationing, especially with a lake and two acres within paws' reach, can be an awful lot of fun, but it does have its drawbacks, namely that it is rather challenging to find "sweet spots" -- those perfect places to nap -- around the house.  Milt has really had some difficulty with this adversity, and after almost two weeks here, I think he is finally beginning to sort it all out.  One sleeping spot was the below:

The coat closet

Surrounded by shoes is probably a bit too tempting for our goldendoodle despite his iron-willed self-control.  Since then, Milt has found a few more comfortable resting areas, but nothing really compares to his three beds at home in Dallas.  Comfort is a priority for Milt, so Mom and I have been doing our very best to make certain that he feels accommodated.  When a dog has two grown adults jumping through hoops, you know that you have got the puppy love bad.

Sunday Fun Days!

The ferns at my mom's house are tantalizing to both Milt and me.  Currently at our Dallas home, we are attempting to grow about five ferns (not nearly enough!) as shade plants in our side yard in an effort to soak up some of our mud.  Unfortunately, the ferns are not growing terribly quickly, and I always used our ferns in New York as a model, but I quickly forget that these are at least 40 years of growth planted by my grandmother.  Oh well, I guess time does eventually pass, but with gardening, I am always looking for that instant gratification which never does seem to arrive!

Milt collecting his ball from a cool respite.

I am enamored by this lush photo of Milton the Goldendoodle because it reminds me of a famous line from a William Wordsworth poem: "Though nothing can bring back the hour of splendour in the the grass; of glory in the flower."  To follow this poem's advice and a page from Milton's life -- Take time for simple beguilement, and if you find yourself someplace wonderful, linger and enjoy it.

Dog Days of Summer!

As I shared in yesterday's post, my husband, Jeff, and I will be spending this summer apart -- South/North-style.  That being said, I am a little bit nervous that he will miss out on some integral memory-making moments with our big furry goldendoodle.  When I decided to stay in New York for the summer, the topic of Milton was up for discussion.  Me, being rather selfish, declared that Milton was, of course, joining me on summer vacation.  Then I backtracked and thought of my poor dear husband twiddling his thumbs alone in our little brick house in the heat, so I graciously offered him the dood for entertainment and cuddling purposes.  This is what I got in reply -- "Oh no.  You take him.  I want to be footloose and fancy-free."  Uh huh.  In my head, I am thinking, What the heck is that supposed to imply?  Well, the Milt Dog is with me, and he is having an absolute ball!

Beginning today, the very first day of summer, I will post a daily photo of our Milton, to mark the passage of the season and so Jeff will not forget the particulars of Milt's handsome face.  That being said, the photo[s] will be short, sweet, and occasionally accompanied by a whimsical story -- the type of story that only long sunny days with a wet dog produce.

Uncle Steve and Aunt Corey took the Milt on a boat ride upon arrival to the lake -- Wind washing over wet curls -- enjoyable!

To you, my Jeffery, "A photo a day keeps the drearies away."  For the multitude of other readers out there, enjoy the Milt's summer montage.  Happy, Happy Summer to one and all!