Bring Me That Horizon

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Home of Jenny the Pirate

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This will go better if you

check your expectations at the door.

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We're not big on logic

but there's no shortage of irony.

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 Nice is different than good.

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Oh and ...

I flunked charm school.

So what.

Can't write anything.

= Jennifer =

Causing considerable consternation
to many fine folk since 1957

Pepper and me ... Seattle 1962

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Belay That!

This blog does not contain and its author will not condone profanity, crude language, or verbal abuse. Commenters, you are welcome to speak your mind but do not cuss or I will delete either the word or your entire comment, depending on my mood. Continued use of bad words or inappropriate sentiments will result in the offending individual being banned, after which they'll be obliged to walk the plank. Thankee for your understanding and compliance.

= Jenny the Pirate =

Hoist The Colors

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Insist on yourself; never imitate.

Your own gift you can present

every moment

with the cumulative force

of a whole life’s cultivation;

but of the adopted talent of another

you have only an extemporaneous

half possession.

That which each can do best,

none but his Maker can teach him.

= Ralph Waldo Emerson =

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Represent:

The Black Velvet Coat

In The Market, As It Were

 

 

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Columbia Cemetery

To read my articles, click HERE! And don't forget to subscribe.

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Contributor to

American Cemetery

published by Kates-Boylston

A Pistol With One Shot

Ecstatically shooting everything in sight using my beloved Nikon D3100 with AF-S DX Nikkor 18-55mm 1:3.5-5.6G VR kit lens and AF-S Nikkor 50mm f/1.8 G prime lens.

Also capturing outrageous beauty left and right with my Nikon D7000 blissfully married to my Nikkor 85mm f/1.4D AF prime glass. Don't be jeal.

And then there was the Nikon AF-S DX NIKKOR 18-200mm f:3.5-5.6G ED VR II zoom. We're done here.

Dying Is A Day Worth Living For

I am a taphophile

Word. Photo Jennifer Weber 2010

Great things are happening at

Find A Grave

If you don't believe me, click the pics.

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Dying is a wild night

and a new road.

Emily Dickinson

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REMEMBRANCE

When I am gone

Please remember me

 As a heartfelt laugh,

 As a tenderness.

 Hold fast to the image of me

When my soul was on fire,

The light of love shining

Through my eyes.

Remember me when I was singing

And seemed to know my way.

Remember always

When we were together

And time stood still.

Remember most not what I did,

Or who I was;

Oh please remember me

For what I always desired to be:

A smile on the face of God.

David Robert Brooks
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 Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many.

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Keep To The Code

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You Want To Find This
The Promise Of Redemption

Therefore seeing we have this ministry, as we have received mercy, we faint not;

But have renounced the hidden things of dishonesty, not walking in craftiness, nor handling the word of God deceitfully; but by manifestation of the truth commending ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God.

But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost:

In whom the god of this world hath blinded the minds of them which believe not, lest the light of the glorious gospel of Christ, who is the image of God, should shine unto them.

For we preach not ourselves, but Christ Jesus the Lord; and ourselves your servants for Jesus' sake.

For God, who commanded the light to shine out of darkness, hath shined in our hearts, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.

But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellency of the power may be of God, and not of us.

We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair;

Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed;

Always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our body.

For we which live are alway delivered unto death for Jesus' sake, that the life also of Jesus might be made manifest in our mortal flesh.

So then death worketh in us, but life in you.

We having the same spirit of faith, according as it is written, I BELIEVED, AND THEREFORE HAVE I SPOKEN; we also believe, and therefore speak;

Knowing that he which raised up the Lord Jesus shall raise up us also by Jesus, and shall present us with you.

For all things are for your sakes, that the abundant grace might through the thanksgiving of many redound to the glory of God.

For which cause we faint not; but though our outward man perish, yet the inward man is renewed day by day.

For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory;

While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.

II Corinthians 4

Freedom is a fragile thing and is never more than one generation away from extinction. It is not ours by inheritance; it must be fought for and defended constantly by each generation, for it comes only once to a people. Those who have known freedom and then lost it, have never known it again.

~ Ronald Reagan

Photo Jennifer Weber 2010

Not Without My Effects

My Compass Works Fine

The Courage Of Our Hearts

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Daft Like Jack

 "I can name fingers and point names ..."

And We'll Sing It All The Time
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That Dog Is Never Going To Move

~ RIP JAVIER ~

1999-2016

Columbia's Finest Chihuahua

Simple. Easy To Remember.

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Main | Make America Great Again »
Tuesday
Jan242017

The dog days of winter

I promised to share with you how we came to acquire Rizzo.

It's a charming story.

When Javier died last April, I said what lots of recently-bereaved dog owners say: I'll never have another dog. Never. It hurts too much when they die.

But then weeks and months go by, and the dog-longing begins with just missing so much their sweet presence beside you in the chair. Missing their little puppy ways and cute antics. Not to mention their unconditional love.

Kind of like when a sleep-deprived new mother thinks, I can never do this again! But then, in practically no time, she's struck with baby hunger.

Naturally the longing is offset -- for a while, at least -- by the freedom from responsibility.

No dog means never having to worry about whether he's inside or outside, if it's time to take him on walkies, the possibility he'll pick up fleas, giving him baths and clipping his nails, getting his shots updated, how far to go (read: how much to spend) when he needs medical care, and does he really like his new sweater or is he just enduring it?

You know. Things like that. And on and on.

At any rate, and all of the above notwithstanding, three-or-so weeks ago I became afflicted with a serious craving to obtain a new dog. It wasn't the first time, but it was by far the worst time.

I told TG. Lie down until the impulse goes away, was his sage advice.

But he said it with a twinkle and I knew if I went through with it, he would like a new dog as much as me. (I don't mean he'd like the new dog as much as he likes me; I mean he'd like the new dog as much as I would like the new dog.)

A breed we've both admired for years is the Dachshund. I know all of the problems inherent with the breed; trust me. I do. But they're adorable and besides, I was more or less fixated on getting a miniature.

So I began my online research about breeders of miniature doxies in South Carolina and Georgia.

What did I learn? Well. First I learned that a purebred miniature dachshund from a reputable breeder can cost anywhere from nine hundred to twenty-five hundred dollars. 

And up.

Okay. That wasn't exactly within my budget -- you'll learn what that was, later -- but I kept looking and even put out a few inquiries and talked to one or two breeders who had puppies available from new litters.

I spent most of an entire rainy day working on it and went to bed dreaming of soft brown eyes and scritching warm little ears and practically imagining I smelled a whiff of puppy breath. The whole canine yards.

And then I woke up the next morning. It was that extremely cold Saturday we had recently. There was even a dusting of snow.

As I made my coffee I was chuckling inwardly. A DOG? Whatever had I been thinking? Silly idea. Forget it. Or at least table it.

I told TG that he could stop worrying about my having contracted dog fever. He pointed out that at any rate there was no need to rush. You can pick out a dog any time, he said.

I agreed. There are always dogs in need of loving owners. TG left to run errands. I settled in to drink coffee and look at more dogs on the Internet.

?????

And so it was that I stumbled -- I use that word because I have no memory of how I arrived at it -- upon a website that featured dogs in dire need of rescuing. It was one of the dog services outfits in Columbia. One I'd never heard of.

The site said each dog cost seventy-three dollars. Cats were sixty-eight. Idly, while sipping, I scrolled through pictures. And I came to this:

There was a short bio. His name was Stevie. He was a Chihuahua mix, about a year old, and housebroken.

I was ninety-nine percent sure this was my dog. Forget waiting. Waiting is for sissies. I called the number.

The lady who answered was so nice. I asked how they knew Stevie was housebroken. She said the folks who had brought him in to the shelter had found him on the side of the road. They'd kept him for two weeks and reported that he was polite about asking when he needed to go outside.

After learning what time the shelter closed that day, I said thank you and hung up. We had just enough time if we left within the hour. But wait! Was there any need to rush? I mean, was it a life and death situation?

I called back. A different but no less nice lady answered. I asked if, in the event I did not come out that day and claim Stevie, there was any chance he would be euthanized (I wasn't sure they weren't the dog pound).

Oh no. No, no, no, no. Certainly not, she assured me. And they were closed the next day -- Sunday. Chances were pretty good Stevie would still be up for adoption on Monday.

But I had to see Stevie that day. And so we went. The nice ladies told me where to find him -- down a hall and to the left, open the heavy door, look for cage number thirteen.

I'm sure they're doing the best they can with what they've got, but it was awful back there. Cold, dark, cramped, and most unfortunate-smelling.

We found cage number thirteen -- a four-by-four concrete space with a chain-link gate and a steel slide-up doggy door leading outside. Stevie came through that door just as we approached. Another small dog -- Waffles, according to the sign -- also occupied the tiny cell.

I opened the gate. Waffles wandered out. TG caught him and put him back, and picked up Stevie. He handed Stevie to me and I took him in my arms and we left that terrible place and went out to the Get Acquainted Area. They had given me a lead for him and I took him outside for a two-minute walk.

I picked him up and carried him back inside. I looked at TG, who only smiled. I went to the desk where one of the nice ladies looked at me. Yes? she said.

Yes, I said.

That will be thirty-five dollars, she said. 

?????

THAT was my budget. (Turns out there was a special on Stevies that day.) I grabbed my wallet and handed her a fifty (yes; my wallet is stuffed with fifties) before she changed her mind.

Stevie -- who by the way is half Chihuahua and half Dachshund, or a Chiweenie -- came with recent neuter surgery (December 28th), all of his shots for a full year, and a microchip. He'd been tested for heart worms (negative) and they sold me a year's worth of medication to keep him that way, for only thirty-eight additional dollars.

A few technicalities later, Stevie was mine. I held him all the way home. He seemed a tiny bit scared but not enough that he cried. We stopped at the pet store to buy him some supplies, including soothing oatmeal shampoo, kibble, a crate, a leash with matching harness, food and water dishes, and a chew toy.

At home he got a bath and we settled in to snuggle. Erica came over to meet Stevie, who by that time had been renamed Rizzo. (First Baseman for the Cubs, my favorite player on my favorite team. Our previous dog, Javier "Javy," had been named by the kids after the Atlanta Braves Catcher.)

He really is housebroken. Rizzo's worst flaw -- other than, mostly he refuses to come when called -- is that he seems to think he's a squirrel. As in, he incessantly nibbles on acorns to the point that the back deck was becoming heavily littered with shells. 

TG and I performed an intense acorn clean-up as they are toxic to dogs. But if there is an acorn out there, Rizzo will find it. He begs to go outside for that very reason, but mostly I watch him carefully so as to save him from himself.

Rizzo is everything I dreamed of in a new dog. He's young enough to still be cute like a puppy, but old enough to enjoy lots of cuddling and long naps and getting massaged and nibbling at my fingers while we watch TV and just in general being there to love on and play with.

He sleeps all night in his crate without complaint. He's clever about moving the baby gate so we do have to be creative with that when going out and leaving him alone, so that he's confined to the kitchen.

I have a dog. I love my adorable thirty-five-dollar dog. I wish everyone a dog as precious as my darling Chiweenie, Rizzo.

And that is all for now.

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Happy Tuesdog

Reader Comments (11)

What an absolutely beautiful story...it brought tears to my eyes. I have had dogs in my past but these days we have four cats. And I feed and take care of four more adult cats and four kittens outside.

January 24, 2017 | Unregistered CommenterCheyenne

@Cheyenne ... awww you're a true animal lover. I'm not a cat person but I'm glad you are. Thanks for stopping by and for reading. xoxo

January 24, 2017 | Registered CommenterJennifer

He is really adorable, and his name is perfect! I love how he came to be yours. God had him picked out for you and he even gave you a bargain price!

January 24, 2017 | Unregistered CommenterMari

What a sweet story! Rizzo is so cute. My first dog I purchased after college in 1967 was a miniature dachshund. I paid $60 for her which was a high price back then. She was a sweet pup. I was married in 1969 so I left the dog with my mom who loved her dearly. The dog lived to be very old and had no health problems till the end. I think I need a dog now. :)

January 25, 2017 | Unregistered CommenterCheryl Arment

Your love for your pets shows no-one is totally irredeemable.

January 25, 2017 | Unregistered CommenterNeil

Oh sigh.... What a beautiful story!

I am so happy for him, especially. And of course, for you and your husband.

It was the right time. You found the right dog. The perfect ending to a lovely story.

Our next door son and family, have 2 rescued cats and one rescued dog. So we are well acquainted with rescuing. :-)))) It is heart warming.

Hugs to Rizzo,
Luna Crone

January 25, 2017 | Unregistered CommenterLuna Crone

@Mari ... What I can't believe, knowing Rizzo, is that anyone left him by the side of the road OR that anyone, having retrieved him and kept him for two weeks, could give him up! But although I hate to think of Rizzo being scared or unwanted, I'm glad he is mine!

@Cheryl ... Do it! Get a dog. You won't be sorry! xoxo

@Neil ... I knew you'd think that, but you're wrong. There are some who have no redeeming qualities.

@Luna ... I've delivered your hug to Rizzo, who loved it! He is the sweetest, cuddliest little guy but also a rascal. I like that! xoxo

January 25, 2017 | Registered CommenterJennifer

Hi Jenny

I'm so happy for all of you! Such a sweet little face.
Xoxo

January 28, 2017 | Unregistered CommenterSally

SUCH a cutie pie!! I had to chuckle when you first introduced "Rizzo"... A constant reminder of your baseball BF!
He has a great face; I can see why you had to get right on over there - sweet eyes and his little smirk reminds me of Javier. (I didn't know he was named after our Javy!!)
Send more pics!

January 29, 2017 | Unregistered CommenterSydney

@Sally ... thanks my dear! xoxo

@Sydney ... I never forgot you telling me (during those long World Series texts, haahaa) about your beloved Frenchie and that you and Jeff would always have a dog, even though you've lost some and know how much it hurts. That "Rizzonated" with me! Haaahahahaha! #RizzoForEvah xoxo

January 29, 2017 | Registered CommenterJennifer

Rescue animals are the best!!!!! He probably doesn't come when called because he isn't used to his new name. When I got my Buddy cat, his "cage" name was Capone. I changed that real quick. LOL

February 3, 2017 | Unregistered CommenterJudy

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