Button Sunday and 100 Happy Days: 39

I’ve been given carte blanche to plunder Lynne’s sewing supplies in her office/sewing room. When I remembered I needed a button for today, I knew if I explored these thread drawers I’d find something.

Throughout Lynne’s house are containers and bins and vintage tins and wooden boxes old and new and you never know what treasures you might find inside them. That’s part of what makes her a fun granny to Lila–and a fun friend.

This may not be an original smiley face button, but it looks old nonetheless. As Forrest Gump would say, “Have a nice day!”

100 Happy Days: 37

Last Christmas David and Geri sent the dogs several toys. The dogs loved them–they loved them to pieces. And then they stopped loving them because they were just pieces. No more stuffing to remove, no more squeakers to squeak.

All that is except one dog. One dog still pounces on those toy pieces as if they’re the best thing ever. He prances around with them between his teeth, tosses them into the air, and catches them. He carries them in his mouth until they are saturated with dog slobber, lets them dry, and does it all over again. It’s Tim’s boy dog, Pollock, who still has enough puppy in him to appreciate all the things the other dogs shun. I call all his toy pieces “my precious” and scold Tim and Tom for throwing them away (as what sane person wouldn’t? But puppies aren’t meant to be sane. They’re meant to be cute. Pollock delivers.).

Today I was sweeping up the truckload of dust and dog hair that accumulates by the minute, and I had the nagging sense that I was overlooking something. As I swept everything into the dustpan, I could dimly make out two eyes staring at me.

Don’t worry, Pollock. Your precious went back in the toy box.

100 Happy Days: 35

It’s not that it makes me happy that the vet tech rigged up a SUPER Cone of Shame for Margot to keep her from aggravating her lick granuloma. It’s just that when we got home, it amuses me that the first tape I could get my hands on to secure the flap of the outer cone was priority mail tape. I regret that I will be unable to ship Margot to any of you, as I can’t do without her. However, you’re more than welcome to take on her I’m An Obsessive-Compulsive Dog vet bills.

100 Happy Days: 33

These two make me happy every day. Upon meeting as youngsters, they became instant sisters. During their terrible twos, they destroyed things together. During adolescence and young adulthood, they played hard together. I’ve only heard them exchange harsh words once–twice if I count the time Margot mistakenly thought Guinness was another dog of whom she’s not fond. In middle age, they’d curl up together in bed or on the couch. In old age, they’re content to know the other one is there, to sleep in the same room, not necessarily touching. They’ve settled into being mostly placid senior dogs, though they can still show a lot of energy when it comes to food.

They’ve taught me so much. I know some of the lessons they still have to teach me will be hard ones, but that’s the way it should be. I just want them to be content. And I want to know why Margot has three beds piled up as if she’s playing Princess and the Pea, and Guinness is satisfied to stretch out on the cold tile.

100 Happy Days: 30

Today the Internet sent me on a wild goose chase for a piece of art I wanted to photograph. I think I may be able to see it in the middle of August, so I’ll put that on hold. But thinking about geese prompted me to visit Hermann Park to look at the ducks.

I saw ducks and many other wonderful sights, but my favorite photo is this one. I’m no expert, but I think these are Shaolin Buddhist Monks. Because of them, I’ve been smiling all day.