it is true, she may actually be the best dog ever!

random moment of affection. I love my dog; she is so happy it just lightens every moment and she makes me laugh out loud. I am pretty sure E-Dogamony would not have made a better match. I am grateful she adopted me as her human.

oh rubber cutting bandsaw, you, oh beautiful efficient one, are my newBFF at least until January 7, 2013

I've been burning through my non reusable/nonresharpenable Rockwell sonic powered scissor blades at a rate of one per hour of back bending over cutting rubber at 20 bucks a pop! why oh why did I not test my bandsaw earlier. mmmm. cuts like butter though I need a respirator for (1) rubber particles (2) off gassing as blade heats rubber (bad stuff...vulcanizing rubber causes cancer along digestive tract (have researched my materials). oh bandsaw you are saving me more than money as you cut so fast and efficiently. and naturally Dopt picked out and helped pull the wheel barrel of rubber to my bandsaw. oh so helpful. what on earth would I do without my Dopt and my bandsaw.

she, my bandsaw, hums to me the same song as my gram's sewing machine did as my gram taught me to stitch stitch when I was 8. so today i I feed my rubber through as though fabric--feeding my cutting machine. the feed, the hum, the blade vs needle, enlivens memories within me. I like these mental tethers to my history, to my family! and yes, my parsimonious soul is surely pleased with this efficient cost effective rubber cutting method. now the weak link in my process is the wire cutting.hmmm. to be pondered.

she decided on Chinese take out

her excavation process has her halfway there for pick up. Dopt the dog in addition to being an affection-aholic, a slurper, a mom-adorer, and a bed hog, she is a serious digger! this is about ten minutes worth.

she is literally loosing it as they fell the trees

the Dopt stands on the subfloors (the eternal self renovation in process with the floors to be last) and literally demands to be let out. no telepathy involved; she is quite vocal in her demands. whem stymied, she then reverts to soulful eyes and her telepathic powers which fail her in this case. to bad my Dopt, I am not letting you out while the electric company lays down 60 and 70 foot drought deadened pine trees. out would equal one very FLAT, very dead, Dopt the dog. I can't help but laugh at her pleas though a tad shrill. sorry sweet pea!

afternoon napping slug of a pup!

hmmmm. not a bad idea. I think I am going to give my hands a slug nap for the rest of the week and then start on my work for the art league. my hands definitely need a puppy slug break. what a great dog. don't know what I'd do without her. she makes me smile and reminds me of what is important and what is not! :)

tongue lulling, she hovers behind my legs as though I stand guard

after chasing each to their own mother
overrunning her own shadow
breaks engage, pack pedaling begins
the Dopt turns, makes a beeline for me
as though I could protector her

heads high, bodies tentatively ridgid
only mild concern with my shadow beast's approach, though cautious
with their mere mare motherly stare
the Dopt retreats, reengaging what she left behind
easing under the fence, belly dusting
she hovers behind my legs, goober
I told her not to go

leisurely morning strolls wan

meandering meditations will have to evolve into the days heat till fall takes hold. surely the Dopt will adapt to an abbreviated pre day's breach walks along with my long morning absence (school).

who ate my sanding sponge!!

DOPTY!

stop it! and hand over my art supplies

I am trying to get the work done! hand it over NOW! and no that killing of the rubber is not actually helpful just mildly entertaining as you wrastle it to death. back off!

that's not a mint on my pillow

walk in the guest bedroom, hmmm, quilt is turned down, pillows fluffed. odd. my dad doesn't usually turn the linens down and leave me a mint. that's more my lubbock friend's style. oh. oh. apparently the Dopt did this for me and what is that under my pillow, stashed so well? a large raw hide bone. ha. a nice welcome home, but I may prefer the mint or the tooth fairy's monetary residue. as I plan to not need this gift, I return it to the giver. she immediately takes it outside, digs up a large flower pot, buries, covers and then camo covers the bone. no one the wiser. my dog is a hoarder. though I've seen the marmaduke cartoons, I've actually never seen a dog really perform these behaviors. she is a good kind of trouble.

unleashed: faster than her shadow can keep pace

I thought she was playing. romping the edge of brush. legs high. prancing. frisky. plunging deeper in. almost thicket like the minuet grove. fluttering gust the fawn flew from her branch strewn nest. fleet of foot. thank god. the field crossed before I even fully functioned. the flash of her spots a running blur. the Dopt low, black, and full out. so smooth the ground could not even shake with her ferocious force, for not a bob or lumbering lunge but instead an unpuppy - like sleek shadow in flight. oh god don't kill the new born beast. I am whistling. shrill. repetitively. I call. no blood. please. no blood. the distance grows. the sounds recede hardly before they began. whistling still. come here. come here. I worried I've lost her either to the wood or as killing beast. I walk. I whistle. come here. come here. seems forever but finally I hear her name plate's strike and rattle. her tongue lolls out. the spittle clear.. the day still oven hot. she as i, spent. no blood. sitting. fully pleased with herself. satisfied. leashed now at my side. grrr. a few curves some distance gained and I release the panting sleek shadow beast. she hurries homeward for her tin of agua. I pace. my normal speed. gravel crunching. sweat trickles even in the eve. more young spotted beasts frozen stiff. hesitant to long. a new flight insues. a pair. my beast faster than her shadow can keep pace. dang. I worry all over again about the change if she kills. frustrated now for her release. whistle and call. wait. I worry. I fidget in wait. more leashed evenings to come and a bell. a belled pup so flights may begin sooner, a better head start for the pursued.

how is it that this very morn she humbly nuzzled the wheel chair bound. approaching each bowed low. easing up for permissions. bottom planted, she leans into their legs. head on lap. nuzzling arm with licks of belonging. with them I worry as they lean forward to cuddle and caress my beast. leaninging out. snuggling. I worry for gravity surges that might pull the lean beyond repair. I worry.

formalist solution

I look away. work. pro-gress. become engrossed. as does she. what is mine is her's. pneumatic lubricant, aggie sippy cup, boots, bras, panties, coverlets, steak, tubes, plates, apples, wet paint, lawn cushions, stuffed animals, pillows, electric cords, hoses, and today, string. I suppose i could beat her. muzzle her. NOT. i mean we do have a little talk with each alteration of which i am aware. she humbly with head bowed listens. blah blah blah :) DOPTY :) blah blah blah DOPTY. humble tail wag. belly up. rub my tummy please. see how cute i am. rub. i then just take the residual remains. securing them as i am able. it is the nature of the partnership. it is the nature of a not yet one year old who needs to help me and love on MY stuff and just flat out needs to burn gnawing energy. the bulk of which results in highly formal works based on surface texture, minimal color, and repetition and rhythm. she's thrown conceptualism to the wind and embraces a formal activism. bad dog. good dog. oh dang. she's just my Dopty-Dopt.

my homework! well, my BOOK!

Dopty, get in here right NOW!!!.

I was reading this chapter!!!

it is just not possible

she'd get closer if she could. it's tough to stitch tubes with a 55 pd pup in one's lap.





yuck! I've decided to rename her ARM PIT LICKER. yuck. stop it Dopt!

tried to camouflage a ziplock of food. she did

while riding home from Mondays free shower day at parental units (as I was awaiting water well repairman and desperately needed a shower*), the Dopt buried between seats and then she nosed like a bulldozer, snout down, forehead planted to the floor boards, with the contents of her truck section, couple of towels, grocery bag, etc. it actually worked. any evidence that there was once a bag of food back there was absolutely concealed. I've seen her do this many times before. she takes her time, is meticulously thorough. there are many hidden treasures buried in the mucroforest that no one would suspect. hopefully no bodies. I find it very interesting behavior. she must have been a hoarder or serial killer in a previous life.

ps will work on my blog structure! have gotten a thumbs down on its current usability.