Zeke Plays Dress-Up

Grandma C. bought my girls some lovely silky scarves for their birthdays. These scarves unleashed a hidden desire deep within Zeke's bosom (do dogs have bosoms?) to be dressed like a Russian grandma. Think I jest? Here is photographic evidence. Shortly after this he made us all some Borscht and read some Bulgakov. He always has had great taste in fiction.

Haiku Corner with Zeke

Zeke was looking so pensive lying there on my scorched, straw-like lawn that I felt sure he must be contemplating very lofty concepts indeed. When pressed, he finally confessed he was working out a haiku. I think it is obvious to anyone who knows him that haiku would be his style of choice. So without further ado I present Zeke's poetry debut.





the lawn
by Zeke

crispy and crunchy
like chow mein noodles
grass beneath my paws

(It should come as no surprise to those who know him that food should be featured in his poem. Especially after the trash can incidents. Ahem.)

Zeke, Australian Cattle Dog Extraordinaire

This is Zeke, the Australian Cattle Dog who joined our family just two months ago. Now, don't be fooled by the first photo into thinking this dog actually herds cattle or does anything remotely resembling work. The photo of him nestled in my husband's arms is a more accurate portrayal of how Sir Zeke-A-Lot (that's what the girls call him) spends his days.

Zeke is a wonderful dog 99% of the time. There are, however, 3 things this dog cannot be trusted around. Two of them he will eat, and one he can't resist peeing on. This dog will go to great lengths to get his paws on socks/slippers and marshmallows. He doesn't just chew the socks, he eats them. My husband, L., caught him sneaking one of the girl's socks out of the laundry and hiding in his mouth. L. had to pry Zeke's mouth open, and there it was sitting on his tongue. As you can imagine, socks are not easily digested; and unpleasantness, which I will not chronicle here, inevitably ensues.

When it comes to silk plants, he just can't pass up an opportunity to mark them as his own. An incident involving a beautiful display at my neighbor's garage sale is the reason I made the wonderfully delicious cookies highlighted in an earlier post. He didn't get any.

Of course, all is forgiven when he looks at me with those eyes, tailing wagging in a circle so hard he can barely walk. *sigh*...dogs.