Category: Tinker: The Poopingest Pup on the Planet (Page 3 of 5)

Stories of Tinker, our first schnauzer, who ate too much and too often.

Creature Features: Tootsie Roll #722

October 30, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

It’s “Trick or Treat” time, so all I can think about is candy. I’ve had my wife lock our stash in the trunk of her car, so I can’t devour them all in one sitting. It’s safe while she’s at work! One of my favorite movie scenes is in Caddyshack when the Baby Ruth accidentally gets flung in the Bushwood Country Club pool and floats away to Jaws-like music. As it drifts by a group of misbehaving kids they quickly scatter over the side in a panic while a little girl screams, “Doody, Daddy, Doddy!” Bill Murray is the groundskeeper, Carl Spackler, who’s given the job of retrieving the mistaken poop, but recognizes it as a candy bar and takes a bite to the shock of onlookers. It could just as well have been a Tootsie Roll, that is also often mistaken for “Doody.” To further capitalize on mistaken identity, they manufacture an inflatable pool float shaped like a giant Tootsie Roll. Unfortunately, if it were designed as unwrapped, they couldn’t show off their logo. We have a supply of full-size Tootie Roll’s and Baby Ruth’s in our candy bowl to give to costumed visitors.

Today, Doody Daddy is the name of a waste management firm in Cove, Florida. You can also buy an inflatable giant poop emoji to float your troubles away on. Or, if you want a toy for your kid there’s Princess Poop, Flush Force, Poopeez, Sticky The Poo, Toilet Trouble, Don’t Step In It, POOP: The Game, Poopyhead, and Doddy Head. It’s all part of the Poop Craze, that maybe started with the Poop humor in flicks like Caddyshack, Dumb & Dumber, Scary Movie 4, Van Wilder, Date Movie, Harold & Kumar go to White Castle, Not Another Teen Movie, American Pie, Friday, and White Chicks?

I happen to own the “Poopingest Pup on the Planet,” a dog that’s full of it. I don’t always find her habits as humorous, but it’s created a popular topic for my blog. Tinker is over 100-years old and showing signs of senility. For example, she no longer does an endless back-and-forth dance searching for the perfect spot. In fact, she’s developed a recent habit of pooping on the sidewalk. I’ll be walking along with younger Tally pulling me forward with eager enthusiasm, while Tinker gimps along slowly behind. The retractable leashes are often stretched to their fullest in both directions. If I’m not careful, Tinker will stop to itch her butt on the rough concrete surface, and suddenly she’s being dragged along. She could also stop at any moment to empty her bowels, as I watch Tootsie Roll-like logs rolling down the steep neighborhood hill behind us. I’ll have to chase them down with my doggy bag, before they tumble into street traffic or into a storm drain. Sometimes sadly, what comes out is Tinkerreah (the runs), that never rolls. (See Post #370)

Tinker’s appetite has remained strong, unlike her legs and eyesight. She continues to take Prednisone to control her itching and arthritis. The steroids have turned her into even more of a mooch, as she relentlessly follows me anytime I head in the direction of our refrigerator, hoping for a nugget. She’ll eat anything, but chocolate is poisonous to dogs, so Halloween is not her favorite holiday. We used to dress her up in a Bumble Bee outfit to greet our Trick-or-Treaters, but it never got her a bag of candy. We’re generous with most everything else we eat, but chocolate, eggs, and many wheat products are strictly forbidden. We sneak a bite or two of egg to Tally every morning when Tinker isn’t looking. To be honest, I don’t think we fool her, so she tries to retaliate by stealing Tally’s dinner. The “bottom” line, is that Tinker enjoys excessive amounts of input, and expels equal amounts of output. She’s all about “treat,” and too smart to be “tricked.” In most cases, she’s a dog that gets what she wants! This is why I fondly refer to her as the “Poopingest Pup on the Planet!”

Creature Features: Tinker Strikes Again #693

October 8, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

The “Poopingest Pup on the Planet” has struck again. This time on the kitchen floor. At over 100 years old, she’s entitled to a few mistakes, even though she ruined a number of carpets in her younger years and those were not all accidental. Certainly Tinker, the stinker, knows better, and after yesterday’s ramblings about “Dog Thoughts” I have to wonder: What was she thinking? (See Post #690). So far, the more-lady-like Tally has fortunately not emulated her leadership efforts in this department. Sometimes when you’re dealing with a pet, there’s nothing I can do but chuckle, clean up the mess, and write a another poem:

(P)oops!

What’s that on the rug?
Is it what I think?
The air in the room,
Is starting to stink.

You try to convey,
That innocent look.
Suggesting the source,
I must have mistook.

Just how many others,
Who walk through our door?
Are likely to take,
A dump on the floor?

I know it was you,
The “Poopingest Pup.”
And who do you think,
Has to clean it up?

This is the reason why,
We take you outside.
When did this happen?
The evidence has dried.

If this was on purpose?
Your thinking absurd.
This was no gift,
You’ve left us a turd.

An accidental “oops.”
I guess it could be.
It’s less of a mess,
Without the extra “p.”

So hold it until,
You get to the brush.
But If you can’t wait,
Learn how to flush.

Creature Features: Dog Thoughts #690

October 7, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

Yesterday, as my writing oddly channeled Socrates, I mentioned that one of the things “I Don’t Know” is what my dogs are thinking. As I was pushing Tinker, our 100-year old schnauzer, in her carriage this morning, I wondered what was on her furry mind? There she comfortably sat, with a breeze in her face, high above the line of sight of most other dogs. Did she feel superior or did she feel confined? Was she having fantasies of being “Mario Dogdretti,” or thinking back to those puppy days when she would get the “zoomies” and run uncontrollably in circles? Does she consider herself privileged or handicapped in old age?

As she was perched in her fancy stroller, her sister Tally was on a leash, walking beside my wife. It almost looked like she was prancing, while twisting her head and body to get a glimpse behind at Tinker. Was she thinking, “look what I can do that you can’t?” Or, was she silently boasting that she was with “mom,” while Tinker was stuck with “dad”? Did she even have a desire to be pushed along, or feel left-out as “Dogdretti” and I speed quickly by?

As I continued with my run, I left both the stroller and Tally with my wife for a couple laps around the park. Did Tinker like the comfort of being in a pack of three rather than in the company of just me? Tally seemed much more relaxed not having to contort her body to keep track of Tinker’s whereabouts. Did Tinker like the slower pace of a walk as opposed to the relatively frantic velocity of being pushed along by a runner? Or, was Tinker solely focused on when we would stop so she could poop. After all, she is “The Poopingest Pup on the Planet.” We let her out twice along the way, and diligently do our doggy-dooty. (See Post #501). Does she experience those same worried moments of humans when we can’t find a rest stop on a long drive?

Do they like the dog-sitters that we hire when we go out of town? What does it mean when we start to pack our bags? Do they get to go, too? How much do they worry that we’ll abandon them like their former owners? How do they know before I do that my wife’s car is pulling into the neighborhood? Do Tinker and Tally really like each other, or do they just peacefully co-exist until it’s time to fight for a bone? What do they really think of Frankie the cat, and why doesn’t she ever go outside?

Does Tinker resent that Tally gets different dog food every night? Does she understand that we do this because of her allergies to wheat and eggs? When she makes a deposit on the kitchen floor, even after output outdoors, is she making a statement or is it just an oops without the “p”? Does she miss being able to jump-up on the couch and our bed without help? Does she think that every dog gets “ham time,” special treats, and dinner left-overs? I’m certain they are wondering why the cat get fed first, and why do they have to share the sliced ham (now turkey) with her? Could they all possibly understand how much we spoil them? If only we could have a family meeting and engage in conversation?

Does “Dogerella” now live in a fantasy world of carriages and glass-slipper water bowls? Does her sister Tally have wicked, vengeful thoughts about all this special pampering? What do the other neighborhood dogs think? Does coddled Tinker’s poop stink? These are all questions that only a dog whisperer can perhaps answer. We do have a friend who hires one on occasion to understand the needs of their pups. Maybe we should do the same? In the meantime, it’s fun to simply speculate on what our dogs are thinking between poops.

Creature Features: Senior Moments #687

October 4, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

Last week, my wife’s youngest daughter was recounting her humorous story from spring break in Cancun. After she had gotten back home, she asked her mom for money, along with a plea of “please don’t ask why.” Years later, the truth came out about an afternoon at Senor Frog’s, where after dancing with a statue of the bar’s web-footed mascot, she accidentally broke it. Security personnel made her pay a fine, with threats of going to jail. She barely put together enough money to get home, even despite the efforts of her friends to organize a party to raise bail funds in support of her cause: “Free The Frog Killer.”

That was her unforgettable Senor Moment, not to be confused with “Senior Moments,” the real topic of this post. “Senior moments” often jokingly refer to memory lapses, but can seriously be the beginning of Alzheimer’s, certainly no laughing matter. Memory loss in most cases, is not serious, just aggravating, and maybe one of the first indications that we are indeed aging.

Since the aging process is so slow, the signs are never obvious. Others may see changes in you, as you notice differences in them. However, the best indications that time is passing and that we are growing older is through our children and pets. Since I see the children and grandchildren so infrequently, it’s the everyday experiences with our pets that provide my strongest references to growing older.

Tinker, our 100-year old schnauzer, now needs a stroller to handle long walks. She’s taking Prednisone tablets, a steroid, twice daily that we hide in chunks of soft cheese. If it wasn’t disguised as food, she would spit them out. It helps with itching and painful arthritis that continues to slow her down. She can’t get up on our bed or the couch by herself anymore, stairs are a struggle, and the stiffness from inactivity every night makes the first outing every morning the most difficult of the day. She needs a walker to go with her stroller. Tinker has also developed a chronic condition called “dry eye” (keratoconjuctivitis sicca) that requires drops four times a day. Poor Tinker.

Tinker was the “Frog Killer’s” favorite, as they built a strong bond when she was living with us while finishing up her degree. (See Post #370). Watching the two of them together again during this recent visit brought back memories of the inexhaustible puppy that chased geese and incited a vigorous game of fetch-the-tennis-ball that once broke a window. The only thing that hasn’t changed is Tinker’s constitution that continues to make her “The Poopingest Pup on the Planet.” The steroids have only strengthened her appetite and the predictable by-product. However, squatting has become noticeably more difficult. Both my stepdaughter and her once playful pup are now 12 years older (84 dog years), and it made me realize my own inevitability. What will life for me be like in another 12 years?

In 12 more human years, I will be approaching 80, and will have certainly lost Tinker, along with even-more-ancient Frankie the cat, and probably Tally our 8-year old schnauzer. Frankie presumably has her “Senior Moments” in ignoring the location of the litter box, while Tally is also now on eye drops, her first sign of vulnerability. Like Tinker, muscle stiffness has slowed me down, and appears to be my most noticeable indication of aging. There is also the gray hair, wrinkles, and a few age spots…but who’s counting?

At least still youthful Tally still seems to look forward to her walks and responds immediately to the word “outside.” She is not the food hound that Tinker is, but still sits patiently in front of the refrigerator following our last outing each night in anticipation of our “Ham Time” ritual that for health reasons has been changed to turkey. (See Post #360). In a similar manner, my younger wife also gives me a “treat” of Vitamin D3 each morning with my egg, an effort to keep me her ageless and healthy travel companion.

It’s a lot more fun to think back to those “Senor Moments” we all had when we were young, rather than contemplate the “Senior Moments” that lie ahead. Tinker often stares off into space, licks her lips, pants heavily, and stalks me for food. At least, I don’t seem to be getting hungrier as I age. It makes me sad to watch our pets change from happy active companions to slugs who respond only to food. Yes, they do still get excited when my wife comes home from work, but that’s partially because they also know it means dinner time.

Creature Features: The Mooch #646

August 30, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

I recently saw a You Tube video of a little dog that would stare longingly at its owner any time he went to put food in his mouth. The dog was there every time he went to the refrigerator or sat down at the table to eat. It reminded me of our Schnauzer/Poodle mix with bat-like ears, Tinker. She is always hungry and follows me wherever I go during the day, looking for scraps. Her dog bowl is always empty, and then she moves on to Tally’s food. I have not found anything that she won’t eat, and because she stalks me whenever I try to eat something, I’ve resorted to calling her “The Mooch.” She’s already earned the reputation as “The Poopingest Pup on the Planet,” and being a mooch is the reason why. Here’s another poetic tribute to our dog whose bottomless stomach is really nothing more than a doggy bag.

The Mooch

Out of nowhere,
She appears.
At first you think,
“She’s all ears.”

She hears you unwrap,
And open food.
She’s a starving dog,
With an attitude.

Quickly at your side
Every time you cook.
Those needy eyes,
Convey “the look.”

Open the fridge,
And here she comes.
You’ve seen less greed,
From hungry bums.

A piece of meat,
Falls off your lap.
She doesn’t miss
A single scrap.

With every bite,
As I recall.
Around the corner,
Her hairy eyeball.

No need to look,
As you eat.
Chances are,
She’s at your feet.

Her persistence,
Will never stop,
Just waiting for,
A crumb to drop.

A land shark,
Without a dorsal.
Just anticipating,
The next morsel.

You sense her presence.
With each mouthful.
Then see her staring,
At an empty Bowl.

She licks her lips,
As you go to dine.
You know she’s thinking,
“That should be mine.”

The tongue comes out,
The tail starts to wag.
When we come home,
With a paper bag.

Yes we love,
Our furry pooch.
But as we munch,
She’s a Mooch.

What happens later,
There’s little doubt.
‘Cause what goes in,
Must come out.

Retirement is not without Hassles: Twist #618

August 5, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

Yesterday’s “Schnauzerthon”post (See #617), took on a new twist this morning. My wife and I went to the Soulful Giving Concert yesterday to benefit the Yoshida Foundation. It was a beautiful afternoon and evening with friends that involved several cover bands including Tom Petty, Fleetwood Mac, and Journey along with other groups that played Top 40 hits from the 80’s. We sat in lawn chairs under cover of the VIP tent, had a great lunch provided by several local restaurants, and enjoyed wine and of course the music. Part of the event was a silent auction that kept us engaged most of the day, and we ended up with a dog stroller for our aging pup, Tinker. Our friends bought a wicker picnic basket ensemble that we’ll all hopefully get some use out of on our frequent trips to wine country. We’ll all be together next weekend again at another outdoor, afternoon fundraiser, Polo Noir. It will feature “Nacho,” the polo “god” and the music of The Head and the Heart. Thankfully, there will be no silent auction to further drain our retirement savings.

From the minute we walked into the silent auction tent yesterday afternoon, my wife had her eye on this Air Buggy dog stroller, and frequently updated her bid while the bands played on. Our 100-year old schnauzer, Tinker has struggled on our last couple of weekend exercise outings that I just yesterday dubbed as “Schnauzerthons.” I run, my wife walks, and our two schnauzers get an hour-long airing each weekend morning to break-up their lazy condo-living routines. That all changed with the winning silent auction bid, as Tinker got to ride in her new Air Buggy rather than walk on sore feet this morning. Her schnauzer sister Tally I’m sure was envious, as she seemed even less anxious to run with me. I looped-back several times in an effort to coax her to join me in a sprint. Instead, she seemed even more protective of the pack and refused my invitations by sitting down to anchor any forward movement. I left her with my wife and took Tinker on a fast-paced buggy ride. Her ears were pinned-back by the wind just like when she was able to run, and I’m sure there was a grin on her face. This was the newest twist to the “Schnauzerthon,” that adds a little resistance to my run, especially on those up-hill segments. I do, however, feel a little silly pushing a dog in a stroller.

It’s like a fancy convertible, and looks far superior to the other baby strollers in the park. Tinker gets to sit up high and look down on even some of the tallest dogs in the park. Because of her appropriate nick-name, “The Poopingest Pup on the Planet,” we did have to stop on several occasions so she could do her stinky business. My wife apparently already recognizes her signals to “pull-over,” and we carefully lifted the princess in and out of her carriage, that comes equipped with a multitude of pockets to hold extra doggy-bags. I couldn’t help but notice the smug look on her face that erased the usual grimace of arthritic pain. My wife also felt like she got a better work-out since she could walk at a faster pace and enjoyed the resistance of the stroller as 26-pound Tinker’s primary limo driver. It was Good-Old-Tinker’s lucky day with new wheels thanks to my wife’s generosity, and the beginning of new “Schnauzerthon” twists and challenges that might be easier now that we’ve filled the tires with air.

Creature Features: Schnauzerthon #617

August 4, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

While many active adults spend their weekend mornings running in races to collect medals & t-shirts, we do a “Schnauzerthon” first-thing each Saturday and Sunday. Those of you familiar with Triathlons and Marathons may not be have heard of this particular event because I just made it up. A “Schnauzerthon” consists of at least two schnauzers and two people walking and running together for about an hour. You simply hop out of bed, put on some tennis shoes, do some stretching, grab some extra doggy-bags, leash-up the pups, and head out the door. The dogs are usually more excited to go than you are, but all of you may quickly lose interest. Our schnoodle-schnauzer, Tinker, is a bit gimpy in her old age and walks slowly, while Tally, at nearly half of Tinker’s age, is much more adventuresome. However, Tally has recently slowed to match Tinker’s pace in an effort to keep the pack together. She is content only when the four of us are all safely within her sight while she guides us along the route. She also likes to blaze her own trail rather than just follow along, so that she can be “the leader of the pack.”

With my current running streak at 3,506 consecutive days, I need to get in at least a continuous mile of running every day, so the “Schnauzerthon” is a compromise. My wife wants to move along at a brisk walking pace, and the dogs certainly need the exercise, so we all benefit from this activity. I will run ahead and then loop-back to take the leash of Tally to give her a chance to run with me. Tinker once was part of this exchange, but she can no longer keep up with my “blistering” pace. Tally is definitely ADHD, often stopping for smells, other dogs, squirrels, birds, and any other little distraction. I use a retractable leash because she will also suddenly halt if we get too far separated from the pack, and a whip-lash effect will literally stop me in my tracks as she stubbornly sits down on the pavement. While Tally is “running” with me, I’m constantly changing direction trying to keep her moving. I have the most success after taking the leash from my wife by back-tracking so that Tally has to run to try to catch-up with them. Also, if she can chase another runner or dog that is in front of us, she will actually pull me forward, despite her small size. I guess we all need that carrot of motivation.

After I complete my three-plus miles of running, I will then grab both dogs and walk them home. My wife will take an extra lap around the park at a much faster pace to make up for Tinker’s slowness, and will eventually join us for the home-stretch. At that point, Tally is relieved that the pack is back together. As we separate from my wife, she tends to drop behind me with her head twisted backwards, looking for any signs of her missing master. She does the same thing when my running path loops behind the three of them. My most important responsibility on the “Schnauzerthon” is to take any full bags of poop from my wife for proper disposal. Since we own Tinker, “The Poopingest Pup on the Planet,” this is a constant duty that I must fulfill along the route. Just doing my doggy-dooty. (See Post #501).

As you can clearly see, the “Schnauzerthon” would be a tough challenge for any great athlete. It involves miles of quick turns, sudden loops, leash exchanges, and varying paces. On some occasions, I have a leash in one hand, an on-coming dog, and a heavy poop bag in the other hand. Other times, it may be just a poop bag in each hand and only a hill to climb. There is stop-and-go, followed by jumping over a twisted dog leash, or untangling one from around a mailbox or tree. Our former dog, Belle, would wrap herself intentionally around anything just to get out of running with me. Both Tinker and Tally used to “run like the wind,” with tongues hanging out and ears flapping in the breeze. Anymore, it’s just to chase a squirrel, and Tinker has a hard time now even seeing them.

Creature Features: Steroid Sandwich #616

August 3, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

Our 100-year old dog, Tinker, is feeling better after a steroid sandwich every morning. Over the past year, we’ve tried a number of medications to ease the discomfort of arthritis. As in her feet. As a much younger 66, I can certainly relate to the aches and pains every morning and the need for regular doses of Aspirin. Tinker would resist each time I tried to take her outside to do her business, but with the title of “The Poopingest Pup on the Planet” she would eventually slowly limp down the driveway and sidewalks to a grassy spot. This had escalated to the point where we’ve had to leave her behind on some of our long weekend walks. Watching her awkward movements was as if every step was like walking on hot coals. We tried mild doses of pain relievers and even CBD oil until we finally decided to use Prednisone, an oral corticosteroid used to suppress inflammation. We’d been debating about using it for some time, but were concerned about side-effects. (See Schnauzer on Steroids Post #67). What happens to the “Poopingest Pup on the Planet,” when her urges are more frequent and deposits larger? Do we have enough Spot Shot in the house to clean any soiled spots on the carpeting? Fortunately, most of our floors are wood or tile.

My wife’s long-time, Chow companion, Belle, had temporary problems with an uncontrollable bladder when she first tried Prednisone. She would drink excessive amounts of water and have to go out in the middle of the night. I did not want to repeat this experience with Tinker. Our first step for Tinker’s discomfort was Cortisone that proved to be successful temporarily. After an injection of this “wonder drug,” she was bounding up steps again, but it never lasted for more than a week. Additional injections were unfortunately less effective. I prefer injections with Tinker because she fights off any attempt to take pills. Between her allergies, infections, and pain medication, we were forcing pills down her throat regularly. At first, I tried to hide them in her food, but she would spit them out and eventually stopped eating – a major sacrifice considering her voracious appetite.

To solve this pill ingesting dilemma we tried Pill Pockets, hiding them in turkey slices, and covering them with honey or peanut butter. Just when you thought you had solved the problem, a rejected pill would show up on the floor. It was frustrating for both of us, until we discovered her love of Tillamook cheese. My wife was buying these snack packets to put in the lunch she packs every morning. They are 1/4″ thick slices that are soft enough to allow you to press a pill in the surface and then fold it over like a sandwich. The pill will not fall out and is cleverly concealed enough that even a dog this smart has not figured out its hidden secret. The cheese must also disguise the bitter flavor of the pill because she gobbles down this “steroid sandwich” every morning without hesitation. The other half of the cheese goes to her Schnauzer sister, Tally, so they both get an extra treat as my wife heads out to work with her cheese snack.

After her first week on Prednisone, Tinker seems to be smiling again. Say Cheese…. Hopefully, she’ll join us tomorrow for a long walk. The medication also seems to have relieved some of her incessant itching that we treat with another drug called Apoquel. Apparently, you can’t mix the two. Apoquel is very expensive, so it would be great if the steroid works for both, but that might be too good to be true. Pet.Vet.Debt. Tinker does seem to be panting a bit more, drinking more water, and seeks a grassy spot with more urgency when I take her out, but thankfully sleeps soundly overnight. She still needs help getting up on the couch, in the car, and into our bed, so no miracles of returning to puppy-hood have occurred so far. However, with a few more cheesy “steroid sandwiches” maybe we’ll get a glimpse of her good old days.

Creature Features: CBD #579

June 27, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

CBD Oil is quickly becoming a popular pain and anxiety remedy, even with pets. We were concerned about putting our schnauzer Tinker on steroids to relieve her joint pain, as her abilities to maintain mobility has further declined in recent months. Cortisone seemed to provide temporary help but an injection would only last for a week. We were thinking about Prednisone, but my wife’s dog Belle, who passed away years ago, had to relieve her bladder frequently, leading to several unfortunate accidents. Tinker is already the “Poopingest Pup on the Planet,” so we weren’t exactly excited about adding any more Pees to her title. There have been a few accidental discharges of poop, but for the most part she has been able to wait. Also, she’s learned to confine these misfires to our tile floors. This was not the case in her early years, as she came to us without proper potty training and ruined several areas of carpeting. We do not want a relapse in this form of behavior.

Before we take this serious steroid step, we decided to try CBD oil. So far, it’s made her so calm that we sometimes have to carry her out the door. We cut back a bit on the dosage, but she apparently is still too stoned to care about going outside. She does not like to walk down the rough stone bumps that form the steep incline of our driveway, and likes to scrape her itchy butt against its surface. It’s almost like we have to drag her to the smooth pavement of the street below. In the meantime, Tally our other schnauzer is already half way down the street, while their leashes are stretched out to the max in both directions. A passing motorcyclist or pedestrian would need to worry about being clothes-lined. Tinker must really enjoy being dragged down our driveway, and continues to scoot her rear-end along the street, or pause frequently to itch, as we lead her to that grassy target of bladder relief. She’s very good at controlling her water intake during the day, so often the five times a day that we take her outside is just too much anymore. However, she still manages to poop on almost every trip, maintaining her “Poopingest Pup on the Planet” reputation. We’re not sure where it all comes from, since she only weighs 26 pounds.

If the CBD experiment eventually works for her, I may try it myself, since several of our friends have found some benefits in its use. Tally could probably use some calming, as well. She pulls us along on the leash anytime she’s free of the house. Tinker just can’t keep up anymore, so I see separate walks in their future. Tinker has just passed one-hundred dog years in the past few months, so to presume her to be pup-like anymore is beyond anyone’s expectations, with the exception of her prolific pooping power.

Retirement is not without Hasssles: Family Ties #557

June 9, 2018 / mikeljohnston1 / 0 Comments

“And they’re off!” Appropriate words on the day when Justified wins the Triple Crown. Instead, they signify the beginning of another adventure as we travel back home again to Indiana. This time, however, we fly into St. Louis instead of Chicago O’Hare or Indianapolis. We’ll spend the night there and drive through Illinois tomorrow, arriving in the Hoosier state in time for dinner with my wife’s mother.

We already went through the “you’re on vacation while it’s just another day for me” discussion, as my wife gets a well-deserved week off from work. She got through last week by dreaming of the Viking Ultimate World Cruise. We can only hope that this incentive lasts four more years until she joins me in retirement.

I’m sure she would rather be traveling elsewhere – say Bali. These quarterly visits to her home town eat up most of her vacation time at considerable expense. Only my sister, her kids, and grandchildren are left for me to visit, but mostly we stay in touch by phone. There just isn’t enough time to cover all our bases in the state, so I try to get with them for Christmas each year. They are celebrating the high school graduation of my nephew’s step-daughter this weekend. They are all growing up fast.

The Midwest tour will include a trip to my 96-year old mother-in-law’s doctor, a visit with my newborn great nephew, a couple of nights with my brother & sister-in-law, lunches & dinners with friends, some research on my birth mother’s family, and a Cubs vs. Cardinals game at Busch Stadium.

Our pets are home with a house sitter. Tinker our 100-year old schnauzer a.k.a “the poopingist pup on the planet,” was left pouting on the rug in my office as we tried to sneak our luggage out to the car. Tally, her younger sister, will like the attention and exercise she’ll get in our absence. Her eye is healing thanks to steroids, and we’re thankful that the biopsy proved benign. Otherwise, she might have become a Pirate dog sporting an eye-patch. AARRRRR….

It’s Father’s Day tomorrow, and I will probably hear from my son who lives in Florida. He’s busy with a new baby that I won’t see until our next trip to Illinois in two months. Hopefully, she won’t be graduating from high school in a blink of an eye. We’ll all meet at Wrigley Field, a sacred spot for my son and I. We took my grandson there when he was a baby, and my granddaughter a few years later. My son’s wife is from Chicago so they happen to be visiting for their annual vacation.

Keeping up with family is our greatest challenge. Only my wife’s eldest daughter lives nearby in Portland, while her youngest daughter is in D.C. I’m stopping over to meet my granddaughter in Chicago on the way to shake hands with a man who may soon become my (step) son-in-law. We’ll all have dinner in DC before they come to Portland for a wedding. It’s all part of the engagement process, or at least we hope.

So, we’re off for another “Planes, Trains, and Automobile” experience. “Back Home Again in Indiana,” where my wife and I met and had our children. Now, everyone is spread out all over the country, and we look for opportunities to get together as a family. It’s hard to believe that I’m actually trying to add a birth mother and other potential dna-based cousins to an already overwhelming puzzle of relatives. I don’t even have time to stay in touch with the Indiana cousins from the parents who adopted me 66 years ago, except through Facebook. Oh, the family ties that bind me!