Tuesday, January 31, 2012

Sadie the Terrorist

Glad I don't have to drive an hour behind Chobani trucks to get to work this morning - only a little more than half of that, and I turn off route 8 halfway there.  I make a game of how many cars I pass coming the other way on the 15 miles I do on King's Settlement Road.  Most days it's 2-5.  That's a commute I like.  We've had enough snow to keep the ground pretty but it's still unseasonably warm.  I'm hoping to shear soon, waiting to hear from Big Jim Baldwin and Kimmie Cornerstone.  I'm hauling the goods into school for cabbage soup.  I have a student who loves it and the grownups don't mind it either.  Sadie is the terror of the kitties, who don't seem to want to fight back when she grabs them by the neck and shakes them like a rag doll.  One of these days the kitties will tell Sadie what they think.  I rushed Sadie right outside from under the covers this morning, but no good.  I think she peed on the floor when I was putting my coat on.  I peed on the snow to show her why we were running outside so early but she ran back to the door.  She's not crazy about her sweet little paws getting cold in the icy snow.  I have to be careful she doesn't follow the big dogs up the hill and into the dark.  Fortunately she knows her name and loves to run back to me when called.  What a happy, sturdy little dog she is.  I imagine she will look a lot like her mother, Reba, when grown.  More coffee then out to morning chores, that is, if I can get past Sadie, who, like her mother, has a habit of pushing through my legs to get out the door.  I don't want her around the White Boys just yet, as they could break her in two with their massive jaws if she annoys them (they've proven that ability with some unfortunate opportunistic kitties who got near their bones.)  I'll leave Sadie with her own leg-o-lamb while I'm at work, hoping it will give her a few hours of happy gnawing and licking.   There is always a possibility that Reba will take it away from Sadie and hide it somewhere in the apartment.  I'm still looking for that rib cage I put out last week...

1 comment:

  1. Only you, my dear! Only you would potty-train a puppy with yourself as a shining example! In this cold!
    And I was grumbling about re-training my four year-old, who desided she was to busy to use the toilet.

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