flan has always had a preference for toys made of tennis-ball felt. she is a purist. she likes just plain tennis-balls, too, and lately is rarely seen without one in her mouth. she takes them out to eat, but that's about it.
so we went to cutter's mill, which is like the whole foods market for pets, and in addition to a lot of fancy food and treats, got her this big tennis-jack, which obviously, she likes.
pardon me for bragging but i do love the composition of this photo. and it really reminds me of a sidney goodman painting.
actually, flan doesn't hate baths that much at all. particularly with the hose, in the yard.
note: ripley runs away and has to be caught at the end of the alley, with nowhere to turn. flan just stays and takes it.
all-seeing, all-knowing dog.
yesterday a couple little boys stopped to look at flan in the park. "is that a hundred dalmatians?" one asked. "no, it's one dalmatian," i said. he stared at me like i was an alien. "i heard those are good luck if you have one," said the other kid. then they both waited. "um... i guess i have pretty good luck," i said. and they walked away.
daylily "bela lugosi".
been kinda slow updating here lately. in little news, there was another butterfly in the yard.
in much, much bigger news, ripley got a small piece of my gelato cone.
in medium-sized news, we only leave the house if we have to, and we really only have to to shop for food and to exercise the dogs. (you can see by ben's expression here, what summertime is like for us.)
but the biggest news of all of course is the carnival that was directly (you can see, very directly) outside our front door for ten days. we took quite a few pictures of it. and we miss it now that it's gone! but it's kinda nice to have the field back. we are just waiting for the return of the saxaphone guy.
today, ripley was in a time out in her kennel (surprise) and i took the opportunity to take flan for a walk alone, at her own pace, around the park.
three quarters of the way around we found a new, red, tennis-style ball. flan was definitely interested, but was not picking it up. i went to grab it so we could take it home with us, and she snatched it away from me. fine.
we were by the rosebushes on the southeast corner of the park, where the bocce-court-cum-dog-run starts. the seven badly behaved, frenetic dogs and their totally anemic, underwhelmed owners were in there, and saw us. the dogs started going wild, jumping, frothing, trying to get at flanny. we hadn't even gotten to the beginning of the fence yet and it was just bedlam. of course, not a single dog owner within the run even raised their voice to quiet their own animal. flan was there, with the red ball in her mouth, and i thought she'd probably just want to take off like a shot and get past all the competition.
but no. as soon as we got level with the dog run's fence, flannery slowed down to half the pace at which she'd previously been walking. with the red ball sticking out of her face, and without so much as growling, snuffling or ever even turning her head towards the yelping barking clawing dogs only two feet away from her, she walked, perfectly steady, making sure every one of them saw her, as if to say i KNOW this ball used to belong to one of you. and now, it doesn't. this is flanny's ball. and i'm flanny. suckers.
as soon as we were past the fence she picked up the pace again, trotting and wagging her tail, ball in mouth, until we were home.
she may refuse to kiss ben, but look at that look. that's love! or maybe greed! whatever!
the plates were leftover from passeaster; i didn't buy plates just for the dog's birthday. sheesh.
see flan's pretty new collar! also see that ripley - having a rough day and having received a dose of frontline that didn't seem to please her - has run off with her cake, away from the revelers, to enjoy it in solitude.
let's get ready to par-tay.
as expected, the birthday girl is very obsessed with the new novelty flying disc. (try to note her new striped collar; we'll try to get a better photo later today.)
flannery has recently started a medication to diminish fluid buildup in her lungs. it's a diuretic so she needs to go on more walks now, which, of course she loves.
this past weekend tim took her to ocean city MD for a couple of days and nights at the beach. since tim has proved time and time again that you never, ever should underestimate what he is capable of fucking up, it was kind of hard for me to let her go. i think i said "don't lose her in the ocean, please god, after twelve years don't let her float out into the ocean" numerous times as they were leaving. and, although there may well be bits about the weekend that i won't ever hear about, flan came back on sunday night looking like one of keith haring's "radiant dogs" - just all brand new, smiley, energetic and happy. she played in the surf and chased sandpipers and had an all-around fantastic time.
on monday she tried to jump over the wall of our backyard while chasing a squirrel. then she ate a baguette. french bread can be very crusty you know. i didn't realize when taking the picture how bloody she'd gotten it, but she still liked it.
they sell a frozen dog treat at the acme - i think the brand name is "frosty paws" - and they are like little dixie cups. i, stupidly, thought that flan and ripley wouldn't know "what to do" with them. not only did they know but it only took each of them about five seconds to figure out that it was a good idea to put the cup up against a flat surface perpendicular to the ground, so they wouldn't have to chase it all over the yard.
i got the peanut butter flavor, but for sure, i'm getting more for them next time.
show of hands: how many of you out there have ever spent three hours in the vet ER waiting room, with both your current husband and ex-husband, and the bleeding, elderly dog? without dinner? hmm? nobody but me? really?
well i guess that's why i get to have cioccolato scuro black walnut gelato tonight and you don't. because that's how we all spent last evening. up at VHUP with flan, who had been bitten by a neighborhood chow yesterday afternoon.
VHUP is wonderful, really wonderful, but god. dismal. we saw far too many things we didn't want to see -- a before/after euthanasia of a dog, and a shih tzu whose eyeball had popped out when it got its collar stuck on the mechanical part of a chair recliner. compared to everyone else, flan was in great shape, and frankly, showing off as usual. she has a big wound, and a staple in it, and is on the mend, as you see, enjoying her special attention.
last night it was all just awful though. so tense and so scary. we got home and i cried like i haven't cried in maybe five years. i never thought it was going to stop. and then ben put ripley in the bed with us, and her dog magic just worked. she's like a little nuclear heat source. she's the best medicine for flan, too, although the antibiotics don't hurt either.
okay. tomorrow's actually the day we brought her home, but today is the one-year anniversary of me meeting ripley at the animal refuge. and so, to celebrate, we have been saving these special xmas-themed cat voodoo dolls for the girls. i handed them over this afternoon, to great applause.
for those of you who shop for dog and cat toys -- i can't say i know the name of this company but the toys are everywhere, and they are great. dogs LOVE the floppy limbs -- we love the sturdy construction (flannery's "burglar" doll lasted about two years, although ripley can get one of these apart in a day or two. she still likes 'em though.) and the designs are always so cute!
i wish i could have gotten more action shots but i was laughing too hard. the first ten minutes they had them, all both dogs did was hold them in their mouths and shake them back and forth hard enough to dislodge their own brains. it was the best!
(also, i looked it up, and the company is called fat cat inc. -- they get our highest approval rating!)
no, really. she wants to share it. go ahead. take a little nibble.
ignore the glowing green kryptonite eyes which are narrowed in possessive greed. really. she can't possibly eat the whole thing. and it's christmas. you know flannery. she'd really like to share it with you.
just come a little closer.
here she is looking a little less foreboding. you never know what toy flan is going to get dangerously obsessed about, and this is what it is this week.
flan's so patient about these things. this is her marty feldman costume.
you know what they say: don't postpone joy. it may be a little early for halloween costume pictures but god knows there is NO guarantee they will be willing to do this for us in another four weeks. now that they know what it entails, chances are they won't be willing to do it again (although we really laid it on with the treats afterwards.)
we know. garden garden garden. dogs dogs dogs.
ben IS painting the steps to the basement, but really, is that better than pictures of dogs in a garden?
it's not and you know that.
therefore...
dogs dogs dogs
garden garden garden garden dogs.
the girls love going to the ballfield across the street and running like crazy. they are always finding icky old toys and balls and stuff.
ripley likes rolling over in the clover -- but, when it comes to her formal rolling-over lessons, it's flannery who steals the show.
we went through some effort this past weekend to buy a BIG tennis-ball-bone for flannery, and a SMALL tennis-ball-bone for ripley -- so they wouldn't have to bicker over toys, and each would have one perfectly sized for their mouth. it was a good idea, wasn't it?
ah yes. all fights averted, clearly. it was a VERY good idea to get each dog a tennis-ball-bone of their own. i mean; fair is fair.
sorry to play favorites but i truly don't see anything wrong with these pictures.
happy birthday, flannery jane!
we began the special day with designer doggie cookies (that frankly smelled, to me, like italian bakery finery -- not impossible for my ex to confuse the two) from flanny's daddy. flan and ripper shared the cookies throughout the day, slowly whipping into an unstoppable frenzy of greed and entitlement.
then... cake!!!
let us not forget one year ago today, when flannery's tenth birthday was overshadowed by a mantis bomb.
come on, doesn't that sound like a perfect lead-in for this photo?
what makes them get like this? the two of them are so much greater than the sum of their parts, and they keep each others' counsel and NO others. it's scary; i am very aware many days that i am the enemy.
i don't know what this is about either. i call this their andy warhol/velvet underground and nico look. they were just like, "let's be art."
i swear it is like living with a motorcycle gang that speaks esperanto. i am such an outsider now.
better than a knocked-up britney spears being bitch-slapped by her inbred husband! better than bendy-toy jessica simpson and her giant ugly gash of a mouth! better than cigarettey, jack-o-lantern-headed lindsay lohan!
it's flanny and ripley, alone in the backyard, being good! eating flowers, yes, but being "good"!
there are lots of things to look at in the backyard. like jimmy and joe's pretty pink kleenex tree...
or the peonies that lyn and eric gave us, which will bloom any week now...
...but of course, if you are rip and flan, you are looking at something else.
frank.
frank is the next-door neighbor's cat. he comes and sits at our back door, asking for ripley and flan to come out -- or at least, for hillel and gib to come to the back door, so they can all talk. (and probably share business cards, of which hillel has quite a collection.)
frank's owner is amazed at how well frankie gets along with the dogs, and how well they get on with him. sometimes, the three of them are just sitting outside together, in the sun.
frank is stepping on my squash plants a little too much, but, he's still welcome.
a nice big field across the street. a dog that does come when she is called. and a dog that does not.
what to do?
make flannery responsible for what happens to ripley -- by putting them on opposite ends of the same leash, and letting go!
on christmas morning at tim's house, flannery got a whole lot of gifts.
here's tim putting together a rather exciting toy for shuler and zooey. they're spoiled too, getting gifts from both parents.
here's flan with her big squeaky lotus blossom toy.
without the presence of hillel, i don't think something like this would ever have occurred; and yet, i cannot say exactly what hillel has to do with it, since he was not even present.
then again, flannery's new MEMORY FOAM BED (posh!) is rather irresistable to us all.
real carrot-tops are green. we get carrots, with real green tops, from our farm share program. flanny's favorite snack has long been carrots (along with daikon radish, raw zucchini, and popcorn.)
oh my god. what's this?
it's a george w. bush squeaky toy!
and we know just what to do with it.
you see, flanny has subdued him. he is well under control. and his face is covered in drool. ah, it's nice to see.
guess who rode in the car all the way up to rittenhouse square, and sat outside for an hour, being petted by babies and admired by all, while her mother and stepfather drank coffee and basked in the glory of having the most beautiful dog in the whole park?
it would be flannery, of course, who was waaaaaaay better than we thought she'd be. she even stopped by the knitting store and got a biscuit from schmucki!
face it. flannery is a huge goober.
but we got these new treats for her that she is mad about, and she is sort of, sort of, rolling over on cue for us now. click here for video. it's a little dark, but she got it on the first take (anybody can get anything on the first take if you keep the camera rolling long enough.)
note, too, her ignoring me totally in the beginning -- because ben was in the kitchen and she assumed he was getting one of the new, precious treats for her.
taken with the "night vision" feature on the camera (no, ben does not wear glowing green pants.) our animals are affection fiends. and ben is a snuggling bandit in the night.
in dorko-levin family lingo, "woolie" means two things: hot water bottle, and dog bed.
someone in the family got a new woolie this weekend. let's all try to guess who.
ben's due home from work a bit late, and girls just wanna have fun.
with the platform that ben built for the soon-to-arrive printing press, it's kinda like a little dance stage. add some ABC, culture club, romeo void, and haircut one hundred... (and, by flannery's suggestion, a few squeaky toys), and we're dancing our cares away.
it's all a bit of the blur, just like it was twenty years ago.
when ben gets home, maybe we'll let him shake his little white castle buns with us!
o, but patiently. see the patience? and good humor?
waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting.
waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting. waiting.
how funny that flannery should have her Yearly Gratuitous Bump Removal at the vet -- this time from her forehead and eye -- the day after we had watched Rocky.
the fact that they send her home with a paper that warns she may be "groggy and sleepy" for the next day or so is merely taunting. this is what we see after hours of general anesthesia.
what is nicer on a breezy summer friday night than to have a world renowned symphony playing in your neighbhorhood ballpark?
as usual, we have our landlord and city councilman frank di cicco to thank for it. it was one of the nicest neighborhood events we had ever seen. flannery enjoyed it tremendously (mostly because she thought that every time the audience of hundreds applauded, that it was for her.)
free to you here courtesy of notsoswift.com: the rare video and audio clip we like to call flannery: the movie (score by the philadelphia orchestra).
our stroll around the neighborhood provided many sights: a shopping cart full of trophies...
...and a mural of a really ugly baby and the virgin mary covered in money. this is a topic we've brushed on before.
mommydaddybendaddycaketreatsballoonanimalsausagegreeniesmommy daddyballballballballballballballgibsontreatsmommydaddycakecakecake cakesurprisesurprisesurprisesurprisecake daddydaddydaddymommybenbenhomehomehome.
any party worth talking about begins with a fabulously designed invite. (check this space two weeks from today for more details.)
ben's birthday weekend kicked off last night with a dinner of three bean salad (which he loves) and a REUBEN STROMBOLI from ralph and ricky's. this morning, he was awakened by a gift from flannery (she had been dying to give it to him right away). you see it here: SCOOPIES!, a very fancy dog walking acoutrement indeed. the package is even written in french, and has pictures of very cute dancing poop on it!
(of course, now, when we go and check the stats on this page, we will see how many people have come to it searching for the keyword phrase "dancing poop". i'm not really sure we want to know.)
ben's request was that his birthday breakfast be homemade banana nut bread and a big fruit salad. we took these things up to the park and enjoyed other people's dogs and other people's babies, then went off to tower records where we bought some nice new spring music; spanish guitar for ben, of course. (i got dinah washington and miles davis.)
ben's other gifts can be found, at least by day's end, on two of the other pages on this site. can you guess where?
sometimes, there is a brief truce. not without loud complaint on flanny's part, and not without gibson exacting his pound of flesh (from ben's hand).
captured from video: the joys of riding in the car with flannery jane stopper.
yes, flanny's dad is extraordinary. his rye chocolate wheat stout just won FIRST PLACE in the category of "experimental historic brews" at the 8th annual "war of the worts" competition! out of 190 beers and 89 brewers, they think (and we think) he is a real winner! flanny is filming the commercial for this brew as we speak.
it's nice to know that my every move has captured the attention of SOMEONE. two someones. puttering in the kitchen, i turned around and was faced with this.
Flannery got one of her mysterious bumps taken off of her ear today. Ben and Mommy picked Flanny up in the car when she was finished, and met Daddy at the door of Mom and Ben's place. Mom and Daddy applied direct pressure to the bleeding suture line that Flanny had jostled open in the car while Ben went to get the pizza. Flanny watched in horror while Ben, Mommy and Daddy ate all the pizza. Then, having added insult to injury, Flanny watched, astounded, while Daddy left WITHOUT TAKING HER WITH HIM.
Flanny will get some pizza crust shortly.
Flannery had a bath at a charity dog wash for National Homeless Pet Day at Fresh Fields on South Street.
An alert Flannery worries about the electrical socket behind her. Gibson lies unconscious in the window, his tail and one leg dangling from the ledge.
