Showing posts with label Cairn Terriers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cairn Terriers. Show all posts

Sunday, December 4, 2011

Sniffing the Sights

December skies of Boston
We don't have many fall days like this in Portland, so while on the East Coast, Robbie, my new best friend, and I were eager to be out in it.
Ready to go
With Robbie as my tour guide, one of the Things I get to do today is explore the neighborhood.  Since the wee Robbie has short legs, it soon became evident that our area of investigation would be mostly on the ground.
And who really cares about the sights?   It's the smells can't be passed without a thorough appreciation.


A valiant lad with an enormous spirit, that Robbie is, and every bush, tree and pole belonged to him.  Even as an eager tourist, my camera wasn't fast enough to catch the first 30 places we conquered.


Mine


Mine


Mine

Mine
An attentive guide, Robbie made certain that we covered all the wonders of this lovely town.  And thank you, Karen, for a magnificent visit with marvelous friends.


Saturday, December 3, 2011

Rake Leaves/Play Ball

It was a joint effort.  We shared a common goal--keeping the other entertained.  Our secondary goals were not shared:  Robbie wanted to run after the ball.  I planned to rake leaves.  But we came to a truce.

Robbie keeping his kisser wet
As I'm here "in" Boston visiting Karen, Robbie, her Cairn Terrier, has become my new best friend.  Such devotion could only be hoped for.  He greets me in the morning with pure love and admiration accompanied by bounding about, little yips and wet kisses.  I blush.









Ball delivered relentlessly to my feet
Since the sky was blue and the air fresh, getting some exercise is one of the Things I get to do today.  Rather than do jumping jacks on the deck, raking leaves appealed to my practical-Pat personality.  Robbie had promised to keep me well entertained  while I scratched the earth with my bamboo stick by constantly allowing me to kick the ball.  He basically said, I know that's dull stuff you are doing.  I know that kicking the ball is fun.  I'll make sure the ball is always at your feet to kick to relieve the drudgery of all stick work.  And if you don't see that the ball is ready for you, I'll dance about and yip, yip until you snap out of the dull and back into fun.






He was exactly right.  Kicking the ball was fun.  And he was vigilant in his promise to keep the ball at my feet, allowing me only moments to experience the routine motion of the rake.








A pile of leaves was not to be wasted. Robbie would dive in with the ball and burrow through, emerging triumphant from the other side with curled leaf decorations over his entire head and the big, blue ball in his mouth.

Robbie played ball.  I raked leaves.  We were both very well entertained.