Recipes for Living

Pets of many varieties add spice to the lives of their owners. They shortly lose the classification of animal and become members of the family. Psalm 36:6 indicates they have a place in God's caring as well: "He saves humans and animals alike."

Some of the stories are hilarious. Tim and Kim Jackson have a dog who is deaf and blind but loves to go boating. They put his little life jacket on him and away they go. (See Gus's story) Tim's mother, Celeste, has a cat named Russell who is quite a character. Maybe HER name has contributed to that. Glennis Gracey slept in a ground level room with a screen over an open window. One night she was awakened by a cat yowling outside the window and clawing the screen. She finally said, "Come around to the back door and I'll let you in." Before she could go through the rooms to reach the back door, the cat was already there waiting. When she opened the door, "Fluffy" strode impatiently into the room and not only made it his home but took over the management from that time forward. Farmers who have Border Collies depend on them to help herd the livestock, taking directions if one of the animals is to be kept separate.

Squirrel Tales

By Rosalee Crew Horton

My parents, George and Gladys Crew fed birds and squirrels. Dad made a squirrel feeding table with a spike nail to hold the ear of coin and a bench for the squirrels to sit on while they were eating. It was so cute to see them sitting up on that bench! Squirrels liked a variety of food!

They stole bird seed out of the bird feeders. Dad also cracked walnuts he had gathered from the timber. He would kneel on the patio apron at the edge of the yard and crack nuts for the squirrels and for baking. One day as he was cracking nuts, a squirrel with only half a tail sat about six feet away watching him. We named her Bobbie, and could easily recognize her when she began showing up when she heard the nuts cracking. She began coming closer, and Dad talked to her in a quiet voice. She finally got so close that as she opened her mouth to take a nut, Dad could see she had no teeth. After that Dad cut the nuts a little smaller. All summer and fall, into early winter Bobbie took nuts from Dad's hand until one day Bobbie didn't show up, and never again.

The entire Crew family has had tales to tell about dogs and cats in their lives. The dogs Dad tried to train as hunting dogs and retrievers, each was gun-shy. The dog then became a house dog and family pet. Outstanding in our memories is Cindy, who didn't know she wasn't really one of the kids, whom she loved. When the family got together and group pictures were taken, Cindy managed to be front row center. Cindy knew what time of day dad came home and was waiting for him at the door. One time dad was in the hospital a few days. Cindy sat or laid by the door until Dad came home. Dad taught Cindy all the usual dog tricks but one was a little unusual — she ate corn off the cob! Dad would hold the cob and move it around as Cindy nibbled it one row at a time. Dad would tell her if she missed a kernel, and she would nibble until she found it.

We also had Mr. Whiskers Sis rescued off the street, when she worked as secretary in the City police office. He was part Wire Hair Terrier and did have whiskers! He took to us and we developed a strong bond with him. He was pretty smart and liked to do tricks — sit for a treat, roll over, and "Dead dog," at which time the tail would not stop moving; or he would play dead and his tail would still be wagging. We'd say, "Wait, that dog is not dead! His tail is wagging," and the tail would stop.

It was hard for him to speak when he needed to be let out. He would move his mouth but no sound came out. One evening he wanted out so he went to the door but didn't speak. He kept going back and forth between Dad and the door and finally he jumped up on the foot stool in front of Dad and barked VERY LOUD, scaring every one. That was the end of his not speaking.

He had a bad habit we couldn't break. He loved to chase birds — only birds. One day we missed him. For weeks we searched the neighborhood, talking to all the neighbors. We put an ad in the paper and we even called the Highway D.O.T. — all to no avail. No one had information. A man Dad worked for had bought the farm across the road, and he asked James to walk the fence to be sure there were no holes before he turned cattle in the pasture. To his dismay, he found Mr. Whiskers lying dead in a ditch. Dad confronted the fellow, whom we were sure was responsible. He accused the dog of chasing his cows. We knew better! We also knew the man did not like dogs. But nothing could be done. It took the kids and parents quite awhile to recover from losing Mr. Whiskers. He had an important place in our family.

When Ken and Jan McComas lived on the farm on the old highway 34, west of Osceola, it was a convenient area for unwanted animals to be dropped. We've lost track of how many dogs (and cats) the McComas' ended up "fostering." A St. Bernard who came could not be filled with dog food! He would get into the hog feed and eat to his heart's content until stopped. No matter what they fed him or what veterinary care they gave him, he would eat hog food. They finally found a home for him.

And then there was a Great Dane! She had been mistreated and underfed also. They had her for some time, and she was gaining weight and fitting in to family life. She was so tall she could rest her chin on the table. Jan worked at the city police office and went to work early. Ken cooked his own breakfast. One morning he had placed his plate of bacon and eggs on the table, turned around for his toast and coffee, and turning back to sit down at the table, found his plate licked clean and the Great Dane licking her lips. That dog very soon found itself in a new home!

DD was a little white dog Jan found lying in the yard one day when she came home from work. She got out of the car waving her arms and yelling "Not another DOG!!!!" The poor little creature was scared and shaking, so Jan took her in and made it up to her for many years. When daughter Kellie came home for the weekend from the Council Bluffs School for the Deaf, she fell in love with DD, and asked her mom what DD's name stood for. "Another Darned Dog! ! !" The dog outlived both Ken and Jan, and Kellie had to find a home for DD at a shelter.

We also had cats. When Sis was four years old, she had a yellow tommy, which she would dress up in doll clothes and push him around in the doll buggy. He would snuggle down with a doll bottle and be very content. Sometimes she would throw a blanket over him and she and a neighbor girl took turns pushing him. At night the dog we had at the time and the cat would sleep together, the cat curled up between the dogs out-stretched legs as he lay on his side asleep.

When the small black kitten came to the Horton home, we had no idea of the challenges, problems and fun he would create. The very first day he climbed a tree and couldn't get down. The three kids were upset to leave him there, but we planned to be gone in the evening. As soon as we returned home the family ran to the tree, where the kitten was as high up as he could go, out on a limb hanging upside down. Mom shouted, "Get a blanket." Everyone found a place to grab, the kitten fell into the blanket and was saved!

The kids named him Pepper, and as he grew, he roamed the house at night. Being lonely, he would lick someone in the ear. We shut him in the basement, but he figured out how to work the door knob and get into the house. We folded a towel and pulled the door shut on it. He'd claw and claw until he had the towel out. Because that took him most of the night. It gave us a chance to get most of a nights' sleep. He, too, had his share of being dressed in doll clothes, given a doll bottle with milk, which he drank while being pushed in the doll buggy.

We had a chair with fringe around the bottom. Brian taught Pepper to hide under it, then jump out to grab the ankle of the unsuspecting person walking by. He would also go behind the couch and come up over the back to scare whomever was sitting there. When Brian took out his BB gun, Pepper knew what he was going to do! He would follow Brian to the road and yard and as soon as a grasshopper got shot the cat would grab it and chow it down.

Patches is our seven-year-old "lemon patch" Beagle and is a major source of joy in our lives. Instead of fulfilling the role of being just a pet, she has become our "four legged child". In the past, we were embarrassed to confess that Patches sleeps with us, but soon learned that many of our dog-loving friends also snuggle with their doggies at night. When Patches has trouble settling down to sleep, we tell her a bedtime story. Like all bedtime stories, it begins with the only possible opening phrase — "Once upon a time . . . there was a little lemon patch beagle who lived in Missouri. Although she was still a baby, she was hoping someone nice would come to take her home with them.

One day, a tall man with a nice smile and nice voice came to the place where Patches lived and said he was looking for a little bitty baby puppy dog to take home with him.

After a little while, the nice man said, "Patches, would you like to come home with me?" She was sooooo happy and snuggled in really, really close so he would know that she was saying "Yes." The nice man took a little blanket out of his pocket and wrapped her up and buttoned her up inside his topcoat because it was winter and very cold outside. He took her to the car and put her on the seat beside him.

They drove and drove and drove and when he stopped the car, he said, "Patches, this is your new home. You are in Osceola, Iowa." He took her in the house and showed her every room. He let her look at each room and smell each room and listen for sounds in each room. Then he took her to the back yard and let her run and play and enjoy herself outside.

She loved her new hone and when he picked her up to go inside, she snuggled in really close again so he would know she was soooooo happy. They sat in his big chair by the fireplace and both of them took a nap.
To this very day, Patches lives in that same house. Now that she is grown up, she loves to chase squirrels in the back yard and to play with her squeaky toy in the house.

He told the people he was looking for the "best puppy dog in the whole world" so they took him to look at all the puppy dogs. He looked and looked and said, "These are all very nice puppy dogs but I am looking for the best puppy dog in the whole world." They said to him, "Oh, you need to meet Patches,"and they went into the next room.
In that room was a little bitty baby blond and white puppy dog resting in the sunshine and she was beautiful! The nice man went over and petted her on the head and whispered softly in her ear. Then he picked her up and held her close and both their hearts were filled with joy.

When she sits up for treats; she sits flat on her bottom and puts her arms out with her hands bent at the wrist. She is so cute that the people at the table simply cannot resist sharing with her.

She is a very curious dog and sometimes stands on the picnic table to look at the world on the other side of the fence. Sometimes she lies on the patio and looks under the garden gate to watch happenings on the other side, especially when she is being left at home alone. But her very favorite hobby is riding in the car.

Patches is just as happy as she was the first day she came to Osceola and, like all bedtime stories since time began, this one ends with . . ."they lived happily ever after"..

By Dr. George LaMore, retired Professor of Religion and Philosophy, Iowa Wesleyan College, Mt. Pleasant, Iowa.

My name is Koko and my sister is Yumyum. Our master, being a retired professor, has too much time on his hands so he's read everything by Lillian Jackson Braun whose detective has two cats with extrasensory powers (actually we all possess that) who help solve mysteries. Their names: Koko and Yumyum..

Lately we've appeared in a number of cat poems which our master writes in his too-much-time. Read on.

CAT SCAN
George LaMore

Could I be a cat
For only a minute,
At home in the world,
With everything in it-

My master might pet me
Or give me a hug.
My whole fascination
Might just be a bug.

The roots of my gladness,
The source of my glee?
Say, coughing up hair balls
Or scratching a flea.

I'd mingle with cats,
I'd follow my nose,
I might meet a feline
With all of six toes!

I'd be laid back like Garfield
And never feel bitter.
And I'd spell relief
The way you spell litter.

My name is Dude. I'm nine years old, and nobody's quite sure what kind of dog I am other than happy, healthy and very brave.

When I was four years old, I herniated a disc, and my parents were told that if I didn't have surgery, I would be paralyzed from the waist down. They "declined surgery," I was paralyzed from the waist down and then they didn't want me any more because I was paralyzed. Duh. They put me in a shelter.

I was so lucky to find my way to Leslie, who has a canine rehab company called Two Hands, Four Paws. I lived at her house for a whole year and had so much fun while she helped me make friends with my new body. She held me up in the swimming pool so I could swim for an hour every day. She had a sling suspended from the ceiling for my back half while I ran on the treadmill, and I loved that! She got me a cart so that I could go for walks all over the neighborhood with her and her other dogs. My favorite things to do at Leslie's were to wrestle with her husband Bryan and her white Doberman India, and to run up and down the driveway greeting all the clients. After a year I was strong and happy and had forgotten that there was anything "wrong" with me.

I had a lot of friends at Leslie's, but there was a special one named Kim who loved me a lot, and she asked Leslie if she could take me home to live with her and her husband. Kim and her husband were really nice, but it was kind of a sad two years for me because they had to be away at work all day and I was lonely. It was also hard for them to keep up with my schedule — I need help having my bladder emptied every four or five hours, and if that doesn't happen I can't help it, I leak. I know they worried about me and how lonely I was, so they found a family in northern California who had two children and two other dogs who looked kind of like me. They said they would love to have me come live with them.

Kim and her husband were excited, I was excited and my new family was excited. We had fun for awhile, and I wasn't lonely any more when everyone was gone during the day because I had two dog friends to play with. But after awhile — I'm still not sure why — the family decided they didn't want me any more and took me to a homeless dog foundation back in southern California where I started. They said their children were allergic to me, but since the children weren't allergic to the other two dogs, I didn't really believe them. I just think maybe between my cart and my bladder and the few other "special needs" I have, I was more trouble than they had in mind. Anyway, for some reason I ended up in a cage at a foundation, and I cried and cried and cried.

Somehow Leslie found out where I was, and she cried and cried and cried too. She had nine dogs in her house — five of her own and four she was helping; but she had to get me out of that cage right away, so she called her friend Lindsay and asked if maybe I could stay with her. Lindsay was a little apprehensive because she already had three dogs, and I guess they didn't always like strange dogs in their house. But she said yes. She wanted me out of that cage too, and a lady from the foundation took me, my cart and my Winnie the Pooh blanket to Lindsay's house on March 7, 2009.

I still don't know what she was worried about — her dogs George, Bette and Sophie loved me the minute we met, and I loved them. The house is perfect for me too, with smooth floors everywhere so that I can easily pull myself around. (I can't use my cart in the house because it gets stuck on the furniture.) Until Lindsay was sure how her dogs and I would get along, she said she would foster me, but less than twenty-four hours after I came to her house she called the foundation and said she was adopting me so this will be my home forever. It took her a couple of weeks to learn how to "express" my bladder, but once she caught on she found out it's the easiest thing in the world, and she works at home, so it's no problem for us to stay on schedule.

Lindsay and George and Bette and Sophie and I are crazy about each other, and we couldn't be happier together. We have fun all the time, although I pretty much think everything is fun — meals, treats, squeak toys and trips to the park and walks around the neighborhood. It's part of my job, along with my brother and two sisters, to supervise the cul-de-sac and race to the window or the end of the deck to bark at people, especially the UPS guy and the mailman, who thanks to us have never broken into the house or whatever it is they're up to when they show up every single day. Lots of people come to the house to visit, though. I get lots of love from them and give it right back. All of them except my grandmother let me give them kisses in the face, but I know she thinks I'm pretty special, so it doesn't hurt my feelings. It doesn't keep me from continuing to try to give her kisses, either.

One of Lindsay's friends who comes to stay sometimes is an actress named Hillary Smith. She's on a soap opera, and she and some other soap opera people are going to do something called a web series this summer. The woman who's in charge of the series came for dinner one night when Hillary was here visiting, and she asked Lindsay if it would be okay for me to play the part of Hillary's dog on the show. They keep telling me I'm going to be a star. I have no idea what that means, but it sounds like fun if I get to be with Hillary, and I guess there are pictures of me all over the Internet with fans of this web series wanting to meet me.

I feel like the luckiest little guy in the world, but Lindsay says she's the lucky one that I'm part of the family. We're all so happy together, we have so much fun, and every time we run into someone who feels sorry for me because I'm different, I want to tell them there's nothing to feel sorry for! I'm whole, I'm healthy, I'm happy and I'm adored, and life doesn't get any better than that.

Although, he was originally bought for breeding, in April 1996, Gus soon became a family member. From that first night, he's slept in our bed, ridden on a lap in the car, and he even used to score his own treats at each drive-thru. French fries, tator tots, and ice cream were his favorites. Growing up with a house full of childcare children, he may have been a little lacking in manners, although he was always happy to see anyone coming through the door. He greeted them before they had a chance to enter. Some childcare parents learned where his "sweet spot" was and scratched it until he fell asleep. He soon learned to nap at nap time, sometimes even sharing a cot or the couch with a sleeping child and of course, there was the floor cleaning that a dog naturally does. That was handy sometimes.

We started camping in 2000, and whenever the totes came out for packing, Gus would get so excited! He wouldn't let me out of his sight and would stay underfoot until he was let out to get in the truck. It was the only time he would wait in the truck with doors open for as long as it took for us to get loaded, to be sure not be left at home. After supper at the campfire, he preferred to sleep on a lap, but he would scratch at the tent when he was ready for bed. He usually refused to eat plain dog food until there was some human food mixed into — whatever we had to eat. It was usually eggs, hash browns and bacon or sausage at breakfast, and beans with some type of meat for supper. When we added boating to our camping weekends it only added more fun for all. Gus has always had a life jacket because he doesn't fare well in water deeper than he can touch bottom. He tends to hold one leg up so when he swims, he swims in a circle. These days, however, he rarely has to swim because he's only in the water long enough to cool off, and at those times he's being held to ensure his safety.

There came a time when we started noticing him bumping into things, jumping onto the couch into people sitting there, walking on anyone and anything on the floor. Tim took him to see Dr. Little and she confirmed our suspicion, he was indeed going blind. She took great pains to assure us he could have a normal life with a few adjuslments from us and adjust we did. When it came time to move to a newly purchased house, we were really concerned about how well he'd do with the new stairs and a whole new environment. But he adjusted very quickly. He is no longer allowed to roam around with childcare children when they are playing as it is not in everyone's best safety interest. They forget he can't see them coming or move to get out of their way. So he gets the upstairs while childcare is open in the basement.

In the summer of 2003, we adopted a kitten we named Honey, which needed to be bottle fed for a while. Gus took to this baby like no male dog we have ever seen. He licked the kitten's wounds until they healed. He even let the kitten try to nurse. Poor Gus would stay there, not moving but whining and whimpering while Honey scratched his tummy with his teeth as well as his front claws. I guess he knew Honey would soon quit and fall asleep at which time they would snuggle. We finally put some Neosporin on Gus's tummy to deter Honey and in order for it to heal. Honey also soon learned that if he just flattened himself to the floor when he saw Gus coming, Gus would walk or run right over the top of him because he couldn't see Honey lying there. They can still be found at times lying back to back. Now they are about the same size and Honey can no longer flatten himself to the floor. Honey knows he must move or Gus will walk right into him because he can't see him

Two years ago we started noticing Gus was getting stubborn about coming when called and ignoring simple commands he once followed so well, only to find out, on his annual vet visit with Dr. Little, he was losing his hearing also. Poor Gus is totally and completely reliant on his smell and feel. He trusts us completely to keep him safe. This sometimes makes for a lot of work on our part and always requires a lot of patience with him. At times he gets confused and turns in circles trying to find the top of the stairs to get to the front door. If we aren't careful, he slips off the entry stairs into the flower bed, or slips off the bed in the night, when trying to get comfortable. Usually one of us can just tap him on the side we want him to go and he will turn that way. He is much easier to walk on leash as he is very sensitive to the tension we apply to it to turn and guide him around normal things like stone sewer drains, big sticks and rocks he might trip over, parked cars, and the like. When he could hear, we could give him verbal cues, "Easy . . . this way . . . wait. . . come." Those made our requests understandable. Having a dog with special needs has been a learning experience, but for Gus we will do whatever it takes.

This past June, we adopted a blue heeler/mini Australian Shepherd puppy, named Sammy. Much to our delight, Gus is not at all bothered by him and his playful antics. They share food bowls, a water bowl and the house. We monitor them closely when they interact but Gus usually just lets Sammy jump all over him. Gus just moves away with the occasional verbal warning. That is when we step in as Gus can't see which way Sammy went to discipline him thoroughly. Sammy has a kennel he sleeps in when not being supervised, while Gus has the run of the upstairs; and almost every evening we take them both on a walk.

I would like to introduce myself. I am minx by breed, so maybe you know my back legs are a little longer than my front ones, and some of us have no tail. What has possibly affected me psychologically is my name, because I am a female. That is a lot to overcome.

I was born in February 1994, in Minnesota, the "Land of Lakes." That may be the reason my mom puts my water bowl in the bathtub, because each time after I drink I love to play in the bowl. What was the big deal if I got water all over the floor? For some reason it made people mad and they made me stop.

In April of that year my mom's daughter and her husband took me to their home in Osceola, Iowa. I cried all the way but they just kept driving south. My mom picked me up a few days later and then I was in a new home on Truman Road. Someone had the bright idea to give me a home with Mom's brother in Arizona, but when he arrived from there, he decided the trip back would be too long for him. No one gave a thought to my well-being. But I stayed here.

My mom, her grandson Seth, and I became a family unit and I was the head of everything. I loved the freedom, but one day when I went up and over a good leather chair, leaving my paw marks, I was taken to have my nails removed. My doctor, Judy, did not like to remove all my nails but she was told that I would never ever be allowed to go outside. I really don't mind not going out, but I lay by the door to watch a stray cat whenever I can.

One time when I was taken to my Dr. Judy, she told my mom a 19 pound cat was too fat. Even though Seth told her I just had big bones, Dr. J advised my mom to put me on a diet. She tried, but I just cried for more food. I know how to work these humans and someone always gets more food for me. I have gained another pound or three.

When my mom was sick I had to live with Tim and Kim. They needed a good boss so I was busy correcting their cat a lot. When I came back home I was mad at my mom for several days but now I have forgiven her. She usually lets me have my way. For example, when bedtime comes, I go into her bed and fall sleep on one side. If she wants to move me, I just cry and she lets me stay there.

Sometimes I wonder what life in Arizona or the outdoors would be like, but I'll probably remain at 1304 Truman Road in Osceola for many more years. I think everyone really loves me and when we have guests they seem OK seeing a minx cat that weighs over 20 pounds. I'm pretty cuddly.

Fern and I have been friends for many years — since I was a small child, in fact. My story is in two "Recipes for Living" books — 1997, updated in 2004. Lots has happened since then. I was attending high school in Crane, Missouri when I wrote last. I was in the National Honor Society and other organizations. Our graduating class was small but we were, and still are, close friends. I finished growing up in Crane, and as I had planned to do, I moved to Springfield to attend Southwest Baptist University, in their nursing school program. During the time, I worked at a childrens' second hand clothing store. Although I was still unsure what I wanted to do with my life, I began to question continuing toward a career in nursing.

When my Grandpa Jamison passed away, and there were other problems in my life, I decided to move back to Iowa, where I formerly lived. I kind of jumped around trying a few jobs and still couldn't find what I wanted until in October 2008, I started working in an organization called Youth Homes. It felt right and that I had found what God intended for me. I have worked and am working with so many boys who are struggling with life and all its difficulties. Amazing coworkers helped me figure out who I am, how to stick to my beliefs, and make a difference.

I left in June, and the last two years I have been helping start a program for youth addicted to drugs. We work hard for youth and I'm so thankfiil to have the opportunity to work with all the great people who are involved. I have the title of "Behavioral Health Specialist," and I plan to go back to school to study criminal justice social work with special attention to drug addiction. I am working closely with families and really can tell I am helping them. It feels so good to know that no matter what is going on in my life, I can make a difference for others. I couldn't be happier. It takes a lot of my time and attention, not leaving much time for a social life, but my friends understand.

I've been facing some health problems, and there are still a lot of unknowns, but I've been seeing a great doctor who is really trying to help me. And I have two other friends who are important characters in my life — Maggie and Duke. Maggie is a fluffy white Maltese dog. I've had her practically all the three years of her life. My mom saw her first at a friend's house, when she was a tiny puppy. She fell in love with her but in order to justify spending the money, she said she was giving me an early Christmas present. I don't know how she'd have found a better one.

Maggie has become my companion, my best friend, in whom I confide my deepest secrets joys and sadness. Of course, she is a bother like all pets are — she has accidents, gets sick and I have to clean up after her; but she is worth every minute I spend doing those things I think we will be best friends forever.

Awhile ago, I found two minx kittens on the highway. This are an unusual breed with back legs longer than the front which makes their back end seem up hill, and some have no tail. This one does. I couldn't bear to leave them there so I picked them up. My cousin took one and I kept the other, whom I named Duke. He is healthy and has livened the household! He had a sore paw for which I took him to the vet and maybe should have had him analyzed because I suspect he may have ADHD (attention deficit hyperactive disorder). He and Maggie love each other but there are times when it takes all the patience and love Maggie and I can muster to put up with him. He is a very good hunter, and practices all the time. He catches flies that get in the house, and when there aren't flies, he makes a mess chasing his food. There are times when I have had enough of his antics, but he is so cute and funny, all I can do is laugh. Whatever tension I go home with is short lived after a few minutes with these very good friends who are always there waiting for me and so glad to see me!

I benefited this time, but I will never understand how people can abandon an animal. That is the height of cruelty and thoughtlessness, in my opinion.

JADE

Jade Pig Person here! You know my human Dad Elden, as Junior, which makes me giggle because it sounds like a little boy, and he really is a few years past "little boy"—hood. I am descended from pigs of some Asian country, but I was born on a farm east of Phoenix, Arizona. My Dad came to the farm 15 years ago, when I was about six weeks old, and adopted me.

My first experience with him was when he stopped at one of his friend's house to show them just how cute I was.

I got out of his arms and ran under their greenhouse, and they had to take boards off
the floor to get me out. I found out right then how much my dad loved me, as he worked so hard to rescue me.

My new home was in a second story condo in the downtown area of Phoenix. I had to be potty trained to use a litter box, which I leaned very fast. Dad bought me a baby play pen, which he put in his bedroom. I slept in it for most of the three years we lived there. I had three kitty brothers and sisters, and we had so much fun racing each other up and down the hall in the condo. We also had big patios in the front and back of the condo, where we were allowed to be when our dad was out there. We also had a neighbor, whom Dad went to high school with back in Osceola, Cay Canavan. We had the greatest neighbors! They would bring me fruits and vegetables. I also like cake and the picture of me is while I was eating my birthday cake. It was delicious!

Another thing my kitty family and I liked to do was tease our next door neighbors' puppies. One kitty sister would sneak out our door onto the patio, go through the neighbors' door into her living room, sit on the back of the recliner, and have the dogs bark at her. My dad would have to go over to get her. We had a great laugh about that.

When we lived in the condo, my dad, a friend of his, and I would sit on the sofa and watch football games. His friend drank beer — one of my favorite beverages. He gave me drinks out of his bottle. I just loved those ball games!

Then we bought a historical house some miles away, and restored it to its original 1924 style. They spent a year doing it, and let me go over to see the progress. The house had tile floors, which are impossible for me to walk on. The Vet's office had tile floors and the first time I went for a pedicure, I refused to walk on them until a nice lady in the office put rugs in front of me so I could walk out. I did entertain them with that little show!

When we moved to the historical house, I had my own room. It was the laundry room, which was so great because I could come and go as I wished. Then we increased our family by seven dogs of all breeds trained to be herding dogs. It made life interesting when they thought they would herd me. We came to an agreement it was not my cup of tea.

Dad's brother Herb came to visit and we had a back yard barbeque. He was drinking a beer, and I politely asked him for a drink. I only wanted a little sip, but he refused. I chased him till he was sitting up on top of the patio table. My Dad just laughed and finally coaxed me into letting him off the table. That really was so much fun.

When we moved to an acreage out in the country, my Dad's sister, Celeste, came to visit along with her daughter Luann, and grandchildren Stacia and Seth. We had a super great time! They were always around with apples, carrots, and all kinds of goodies. My Dad always makes sure I have plenty of fresh fruits and vegetables, and when we have company I get a much bigger amount.

Then we moved to our place up here in Yarnell. It was one of the most fun trips I ever made. We took my Dad's truck and someone else drove. Dad rode in the back with me and he let me lay my head on his arms. Sometimes I hung my head over the side and the wind blew through my ears. I don't know what was so strange about it, but people almost drove off the road looking at us. The same year Aunt Sis, Kim, Tim, and Seth came to visit. I had Tim wrapped around my hoofs. I just love him and wish that he would come back more often.

I have been so blessed. I am the Queen-of-the-Pad around here. If you are ever in my area, please stop by. It would be nice if you would bring a little something to eat and we could have lunch outside in my area.