Saying Goodbye

  The old dog that came to the Bayou for the past few years never made it as a true Bayou Dog.  His predecessor, Ms. Ez, did all the fine things that were expected of a working dog.  She kept the gardens and fruit trees free from squirrels and coons.  She swam out and carried tools to the menfolk as they worked on the pier.  She adopted abandoned baby animals and cared for them.  The old dog did none of those.

  We came to have Mr. PJ only because my son and daughter-in-law had to move to an island far away.  A dog of his breed was not allowed on the island so the old dog came to stay with us.  It was heart wrenching for his family to make that decision but it was for the best since there was no other way.  While here, Mr. PJ adapted to the way of life but never quite made it as a true Bayou Dog.  True, Ms. Ez was a tiny pup when she came so she grew up knowing what was expected.  Mr. PJ only had a short time with us so his lessons were rushed.  

  While Mr. PJ did not chase after the squirrels, he did chase away the gloomy days and any sad thoughts.  He may not have swam out to the end of the pier but he did swim his way into our hearts.  Although he never adopted any babies during his stay, he adopted us...and that...that was far better.  Mr. PJ was not a true Bayou Dog but he was a true and loyal friend that brought a lot of happiness to this family. 

  It saddens me to say that Mr. PJ passed away yesterday morning.  He had been ill for some time but was a fighter and pulled through so many rough times before.  This time was different.  The old dog was tired...really tired.  His body could go no further.  The night before he died, I laid on his bed and held him.  I told him how much I loved him and how much his real family loved and missed him.  He looked at me with big sad eyes, licked my hand and settled down beside me.  I held him as he slept.  In the wee hours of the morning, he left behind his illnesses and gained peace.  I will, indeed, miss Mr. PJ.  I will, indeed.  May you rest in peace, my friend.

The Old Dog and the Clue Hunt!

  "The Sea and the Jungle" is a book that was published in 1912.  It was written by one, H.M. Tomlinson. I have not read it, yet, but have plans to in the near future.  I know nothing about the book and its contents, so why read it?  Well, because it sits on the bookshelf.  I do not even know where I got the book but it is there and has been there for so many years that it has gathered enough dust to be declared a piece of land.  Now, you may ask since it has sat unread for so long, why the sudden interest.  That, too, has an answer.  In the recent Annual Clue Hunt on the Bayou, the book was used as a portion of a clue.  It, along with three other antique books were the markers for the keys to unlock the bookshelf.  I figure that if I am going to expect others to know about things, then I should..so I shall read.

  This was all brought to mind with a hike around the hillside today.  Old Mr. PJ decided the route of our hike.  He is weak and wobbly but the old dog knows where he wishes to go.  He checked all of his favorite places.  He made a short trek to the pier where we basked in the warm sunshine and then took the "scenic" route to the greenhouse.  Mr. PJ has always had an affinity for the greenhouse.  He nosed around the place a bit as if to make sure everything was still in order since his last visit.  Obviously, it met his approval as we were back outside after a few moments and on our way to find Son who was cutting firewood.  Mr. PJ sat and watched the wood splitting for a bit before deciding it was time to go back inside.  

  The old dog had just made his journey between his own sea and jungle.  His time may be waning but he still is in charge of protecting the Little Bayou House and all of its surroundings.  He feels the responsibility to be my bodyguard and, even though, it is pretty much the other way around now, I would never take that feeling away from him.  He IS still needed, wanted and much loved.  

Tired...Just Tired...

  The old dog, Mr. PJ, is tired.  He is just plumb worn out.  He did not go on a long hike, chase squirrels from the garden nor chase a ball up and down the hill.  He did none of these except maybe in his dreams.  He is just frazzled from life and there is nothing I can do other than let him rest.  He does.  In reality, that is just about all he does these days.  He whiles away the hours in deep slumber.  That is ok by me since it is what he needs.  If he wishes to snooze the day away, so be it.  

  Mr. PJ is actually my daughter-in-law and son's dog.  They had to move to an island far way and could not take their beloved dog with them.  Where was the next best place?  Here, evidently.  I accepted his "visit" with open arms and a heart full of love.  He returned the love tenfold.  He and I are good.  We understand each other and respect each other to the utmost.  All of us were in hopes that his family could come back to take him home some day and I still hope that will happen. It has just taken longer than they expected.  In the meantime, however, he is tired...really tired.

  I have tried to help Mr. PJ in every way possible.  We have done vet visits, had a major surgery, plied treats, taken long hikes and basked in the sunlight on the pier.  Happy times there!  Perhaps with enough sleep, we will, once again, do his favorite things.  But, for now, I shall let him rest to build strength.  I have truly grown to love this old dog!  What a fine fellow!  What a fine friend.  Feel better soon, my friend!!

Pretty Little Moth

  Mr. PJ, the old dog, is not a spring chicken or even a pup any longer.  His days now are spent sleeping.  He no longer wishes to be outside hiking about the hillside nor does he wish to go to the pier.  It is just too much effort for the old dog to muster.  This puts a strain on me, as well, as I now pretty much have to carry him when he does go out to do his business.  Using a homemade sling under his belly makes the job of hoisting him a bit easier but it is still a strenuous task.  He deserves the help, however, since he has been a loyal friend since he came into my care.  Today, I made a promise to him to help him as long as needed.

  His care has put a damper on my hiking, however, so my photography has been relegated to whatever is found within a few steps of the front door.  Guess what??  There is not a lot happening there.  This morning was a different story.  I found a moth!  Whew!  I never thought I would be so excited to see a highly common moth resting above the door.  Why?  Well, it gave me something to think about and to photograph.  The moth was a very commonly seen Porcelain Gray Moth.  Nothing special...yet, highly special.

  It is sort of humorous how mundane things become important when they are taken away.  My hiking was always viewed as exercise.  My photography was nothing more than a way to share the Bayou.  My time outside was "getting fresh air".  Now, these things are sorely missed.  My priorities have been altered.  So...enjoy a photo of my day...a lovely Porcelain Gray Moth!

My New Job

  Rather than a new job, I should say that an existing job has veered into a different direction.  The old dog that is in my care is really showing his age lately.  I was advised at the last visit with veterinarian that this was to come but I was still not ready.  Do you ever get ready for things like this?  Mr. PJ started showing signs that things were "just not right" about a week ago.  First, he did something that was so out of character that even he was shocked.  His bladder let loose in the house.   Not just a dribble but full blown peeing everywhere.  Poor old fellow was humiliated to say the least.  That set in motion a new routine.  Now as soon as he gets up, he goes outside.  Usually, that was done after he ate.  This is working as far as the bladder situation goes but a new problem arose that needed tending.

  For the past two days, my sweet old friend has lost a good bit of strength and most of the control of his hind legs.  He has good intentions of standing, walking and typically being what he used to be but it does not happen.  Good news...he does not appear to be in pain.  He is in good spirits, eating well and, other than the accidents, has regular "waste disposal" functions.  My new job is to help him continue with his daily routines.  I help him walk.

  Carrying a 60lb dog is not an easy task for someone my age so a bit of ingenuity came into play.  For now, an old bath towel is folded in half lengthwise and passed under Mr. PJ's belly.  The two ends of the towel are held in one hand above his back.  This way, I can gently lift his body while he "pedals" along with the front legs.  It works well with little stress on him...or me.  It took a little while for him to get the idea that I was helping but once he did, he accepted my efforts.  If his condition does not improve, the plan is to sew a "hoisting cloth" with handles so the process will be easier.  

  There are those who would rather just "put him down"...there are those who have to give unneeded advice...there are those who find it ridiculous that I am putting this much effort into helping a dog..but as long as he and I can work this out decently, we will work through it.  I am not letting a friend in need down because I am too lazy to deal with his needs.  Mr. PJ deserves my help and will get it until it is not needed.  It is hard.  It is time consuming.  I become frustrated.  He becomes frustrated.  But, we will do the best we can...together.  

A Cardinal Came To Visit

  Early this morning, I took the old dog out for his morning exercise.  He was moving slowly....even more slowly than usual.  His energy seemed sorely lacking and his movements appeared to ail him.  The cool front that dropped our temperatures some 20 degrees during the night may be the culprit.  He has arthritis pretty heavily which makes walking rather painful at times.  Since our hike was progressing at a snail's pace (if even that), I had plenty of time to check around for anything worth photographing.  About half way down the hill, our hike came to an abrupt halt.  Mr. PJ had enough of the walking and sat down to rest his weary bones.  He did not want to move no matter how hard I tried to cajole him.  We could go no further.  We could not go back.  He sat.  Well, it was best to let him sit so I meandered a bit always staying with in his line of vision.

  Alongside of the path, there is a couple of dead trees.  It was on one of these dead limbs that a cardinal suddenly popped in to visit.  The bird seemingly was trying to get my attention.  It flitted about the tree just a few feet from me then came to rest in full view. The bird started making a light chipping sound all the while keeping a steady gaze at me.  I talked with the bird as if it could fully understand what I was saying.  By the head tilts and intermittent silences, maybe it did.  After about ten minutes of our visit, the bird broke out into full song.  Wow!  I felt honored.

  It is often said that when a cardinal appears to be trying to garner your attention, it has a message from beyond.  It seems that the name "cardinal" comes from the Latin word "cardo" which translates to hinge.  If you use your imagination here, you can see where this all got started.  A door has hinges so the bird is passing through the door between Heaven and Earth as it carries messages.  Sometimes, we need that assurance that our loved ones are still there...still watching over us.  The myths and legends about the cardinal all deal with good health, happy relationships, renewal of spirit and protection.  Since the bird is hard to miss with its bright color and happy song, it is easy to see why folks want it to be associated with someone they have loved...and still love.  I wonder who came to visit me today???  There are so many that I would love to visit again. 

What a pair!

  If you read at all, you will eventually come across tales of unusual friendships in the animal world.  Critters have a decent amount of love to share given a half of chance.  I don't care if it is a rhino that has befriended a sheep or a chicken that loves a cat, their friendships seem to flourish because there is no interruption by meddlers.  To my way of thinking, people are the only critters that show a bit of jealousy when it comes to other people and their friendships.  It is ridiculous!  But, that said, those in the critter world just don't care about all of the drama in the human world.  They just live the way they feel.  Pretty neat.

  The old dog, Mr. PJ, has been feeling a good bit better since his surgery.  He now actually looks forward to his daily walks.  While he was ill, his walking was more like trudging and at a tremendously slow pace.  I had time to observe a lot of things during these snail-paced meanderings.  One of the things that I noticed was that a juvenile gray squirrel seemed to be following us.  At first, it lingered in the treetops but was never too far from our path.  Later, the little squirrel would often come down from the tree and busy itself on the ground.  Now that the old dog is better, our hikes have sped up a bit.  He does his own thing off-leash.  He takes a walk down the lower part of the yard near the marsh.  That little squirrel seems elated that Mr. PJ is better as now the squirrel follows more closely.  As soon as we get down near the old oak in the front yard, the squirrel stays within a few feet of the dog.  The dog, however, seems oblivious to the friendship-offering critter.  He plods along unaware that he has a miniature shadow.  

  It amuses me that this unlikely pair take the daily walks together.  Normally, the dog would be chasing the squirrel and the squirrel would be high in the treetops but not with this duo!  They are buddies to the end!  I am supposing that as the weather chills and food gets hard to find, I had better stick a few dog treats in my pocket so Mr. PJ can share a snack with his little buddy.  That would be a nice gesture.

The Threat Is Always There

  The old dog has really been enjoying being cone-free.  His leg surgery has healed nicely so the dreaded piece of plastic has been put into retirement.  I decided to keep that thing knowing how many folks around here have dogs and how many of those dogs get themselves in some kind of predicament that requires a doctor's care.  The cone is still in perfect condition and may come in handy some day.  I carefully cleaned the thing and then pondered where to put it to dry.  I really did not want to hang it on the clothesline as the sun would make the plastic brittle and useless.  Aha!  A brilliant idea hit me!  Since the grandlittles will not be on the Bayou any time soon, one of their rocking horses could wear the cone while it dried.  It worked!  The horse now sports the "cone of shame".

  My brilliant idea seems to have had an ulterior motive behind it.  With Mr. PJ feeling better, he is starting to get more active.  Being more active means he wanders about the house a good bit.  Wandering leads to the kitchen, of course, and therein lies a problem.  The cat's bowls are there and like most cats, Ms. Nycto, always leaves a bit of food in her bowl.  Mr. PJ knows that and wants to "finish off" her leftovers.  Well, that just makes me have to fill the bowls (he drinks her water, too.) several times a day.  I am quickly running out of cat food.  So!  Another brilliant idea!  When Mr. PJ starts being a busybody, I merely tap the cone on the horse's head and Mr. PJ returns to his good behavior.  He still wanders about but does not touch Ms. Nycto's food!  Tap! Tap! Tap!  

  I guess the memory of the dreaded cone is still fresh in PJ's mind and he perceives the tapping on the cone as a threat that it could be transferred back to his neck.  Oh, Mr. PJ!  You are a funny dog.

Happy! Happy!

  For months now, the old dog has been ailing.   The poor, old pup just could not shake the maladies that vexed him so.  Actually, there was not just one thing wrong but a build-up of a multitude of things.  He had a fungal nasal infection, a fast growing tumor on his hind leg, a scratched eyeball (his doing), arthritis, the beginnings of congestive heart failure and...well, age.  He probably could have shaken one or two but when all piled together at once, he was not faring well.  That said, I started tackling one problem at a time.  For some odd reason, the regular vet did not want to give him a strong antibiotic.  He prescribed a weak one and only for one week.  Allergy pills and pain pills, however, were plenteously plied.  The tumor situation was not addressed "until we get the other things under control" and then "proceed with caution due to the heart".  I was perplexed.  Herbal concoctions brought a good bit of relief for the sinus situation but did not fully remedy it.  Poor fellow suffered in silence.

  Then, a deer fly bit him on the eye lid causing him to scratch.  That scratch caused an injury to the eyeball and led to an emergency visit to the pet hospital.  While there, I questioned the vet that owns the hospital about the tumor.  He agreed that it needed to be removed and said we would do it right away.  I felt a bit of turmoil about the risk but was assured that things would go safely.  The surgery was a success and Mr. PJ came home the next morning with a bandaged leg and the cone of shame on his head.  That cone seemed to be far more troubling than the surgery.  He hated it!  I hated it.  First, because it did not keep the dog from reaching the incision site and second, with the thing the size of a bucket on his head, he knocked over everything in the house!  The normally very easy dog magically turned into a bull in the china shop. 

  After two weeks of torture, it was time to have the staples removed and the incision checked.  The cone came off and Mr. PJ is happier than I have seen him in a long time.  While at the pet hospital, I questioned the doctor again.  "Since PJ has been on the medicines you prescribed, the sinus problem has dramatically improved. Do you think we can continue?"  YES!!!  I came home with a new supply of the antibiotics. The cone came off and Mr. PJ is happier than I have seen him in a long time. Oh, happy day! Mr. PJ can breathe again, can rest easy with no bucket on his head and does not have a pound and a half of extra garbage hanging on his leg.  He can actually trot again!   It does the heart good to know that I made the right decision about his care. It would be so grand if he continued to heal and live the rest of his days pain free.  It would also be grand if the veterinarians at the pet hospital could see him on a regular basis and not just for emergencies!

Being Old is Hard Work

  I am not accustomed to this "dog sitting".  No, I do not mean the normal type where you take care of someone's pet while they are away.  I am talking of literally sitting here with a dog.  Old Mr. PJ has had his surgery to remove a rather large tumor from his leg but, now, he does not want me more than ten feet from him.  If I move the least bit, he panics and tries to follow.  He is supposed to rest...I get no rest.  Well, maybe I am getting too much of sitting even though I do not find it restful.  I am not used to sitting for any length of time and it is driving me bonkers.  I realize this is not his fault but it is tiring.  During this sitting, I have to keep a constant watch on him so he does not pull at the staples in his leg. Yes, he does have that cone thing on his head but this dog is smart.  He has figured out that if he squirms enough to get the cone pushed back far enough on his neck and then contorts himself in almost a pretzel position...he can reach the wound!  Oh, my.  He is also smart enough to know when I doze off at night so he can start his maneuvers.  I think he plots this all day so he watches...watches and plots until I nod off.  Thankfully, the cone is made of plastic and I can hear when he starts his squirming.

  Like I said, I am not one to just sit around.  This sitting and my lifting the dog has given me a severe backache which does not want to go away.  Several times today, he collapsed as his legs just gave out from under him.  To keep him from hurting the bad leg any further, I always tried to catch him before he fell.  Sixty pounds of dead weight is not an easy catch for someone my age and it is starting to show.  There is not much I can do about it, however, as this has to continue for the next two weeks.  Hopefully by then, he will be well enough to do things for himself.  Hopefully, my back holds out.  It ain't easy being old!

My Buddy is Home!

  Last night was a bit unusual for me.  For the first time in several years now, there was no dog sleeping by my bed.  Mr. PJ was in the hospital!  While I knew he was in good hands, I still fretted about his well being.  It was time, however, for him to go get repaired so all was good.  For quite some time, he has had a tumor growing on his hind leg.  The regular veterinarian kept a close watch on the lump but said it was best not to be hasty.  Well, last week, Mr. PJ suffered an eye infection from a deer fly bite.  Since it was the weekend, we took him to the pet hospital.  They have an around-the-clock emergency room for just such things.  The vets there were remarkable and soon Mr. PJ was back to his old self.  While there, I asked about removing the tumor and they agreed that it could be done...so it was...and so PJ stayed overnight...and so I was lonely without the old dog.

  Early this morning, Son and I headed to the hospital to pick up my buddy!  He seemed as happy to see me as I was him.  Once we got him back to the Little Bayou House, he had to check each room to make sure it was just how he left it and then he settled in by my feet and has not let me wander more than a few feet from him.  "Nope!  We are NOT doing that again!" he seems to be trying to tell me. Nope, buddy, we are not doing that again any time soon, I hope.

  He is not showing any ill side effects of the surgery other than having problems with the dreaded "cone of shame".  While he does not seem to mind it on, he has problems navigating that huge thing.  Poor old pup gets stuck in doorways, gates and on furniture.  I am sure by the time it is to be removed, he will have become accustomed to having the hood on but, for now, it is a nuisance.  Surely, there is some other method that would achieve the same results of no pulling on the wound.  Plus, this being the Deep South and the cone being a hard plastic, he is miserably hot!  With temperatures in the triple digits, having any piece of plastic near the body is highly uncomfortable.  Soon, buddy, soon.  I promise.  I am just glad you are home and minus that huge (1 pound) blob of misery!  

Marsh Staring

  I am not sure what is up with the old dog, Mr. PJ.  For the past few months, he has had one ailment after another and has given me reason to believe that his time was near on several occasions.  One time, in particular, was worrisome but after a quick visit to the pet ER, he seemed to rebound a bit.  His health worries trouble me but equally as troubling are some of his moods.  He seems down...sad...lonely even though, both Son and I dote on him daily.  He sleeps next to my bed, hovers next to me while I do chores and gets lots of petting and hugs, yet, somehow, he seems to think something is askew.

  Our hikes have been shortened to slow walks for him to do his business.  Even then, I usually have to help him back to the house.  He does, however, want to linger at one spot each day.  Down by the marsh edge, he sits and stares into the brambles.  I cannot see a thing that is appealing in this tangle of marsh, vines and brush.  He must, however, as he will linger here for a good half hour, if I allow it...and I usually do.  It makes him happy and gives him a short rest before continuing back up the hillside. 

  What is he staring at?  Why this one spot?  What is going through his mind?  Something Son noticed may bring light to the situation.  Maybe memories are here, at least in PJ's mind.  Directly across the Bayou from this spot, there is a new home and the family has small children.  Occasionally, their chattering and laughter can be heard echoing across the marsh.  Perhaps, Mr. PJ is reminiscing about "his" children?  Since I am fostering the old dog for my son, daughter-in-law and grandchildren while they are living on an island far from here, I do believe he misses the children more than anything.  Those voices and giggles may trigger a happy memory and he associates it with this particular spot?  Who knows?  But, if it makes him feel better, then we shall sit and stare into the marsh together.  I'm good with it.

Floods, 'shrooms and old dogs

  Mississippi is flooding!  Most of the middle and southern part of the state seems to have acquired enough rain to fill our rivers and creeks to over flood stage. They are spilling out of their banks and turning the once dry land into one big lake.  Houses are under, camp grounds are under, railroad tracks are undermined causing derailments and major highways seemingly just plain do not exist anymore.  While all of this is happening around us, being on the Bayou has actually helped us.  The copious amounts of rainfall did not harm our hillside in any way, shape or form.  The water simply ran down the hill and into the Bayou and Bay.  We may be the target of tidal surges with hurricanes but rainfall fueled flooding is not a worry.  My heart breaks for those targeted by the storms, however, and will step up to help in any way.

  All of this rain has made me a bit more cautious as I am out and about with the old dog.   As with any dog, Mr. PJ has a tendency to sniff and taste just about anything in his path and that includes mushrooms.  The rains caused mushrooms to pop out overnight so this morning, I had to be vigilant in my watch over him.  He definitely does not need to take a nip of a poisonous 'shroom!  

  These mushrooms almost seemed to "glow" in the darkness of the early morn.  The heavily overcast skies kept it dark until mid morning.  This was especially noticeable at daybreak when I ushered the old dog out the door for his morning business.  As I wandered around behind the dog on mushroom watch, I noticed bright white blobs in the distance.  Yep, it was time to steer Mr. PJ in the opposite direction!  I am not up on my fungi so deciphering which are toxic and which are safe is not a strong point and not something I trust myself in doing.  Avoiding a potential harmful situation is the best way I know how to handle it.  I do have to admit that the mushrooms were quite pretty, however, in their own 'shroomy way.

In Bloom!

  This morning after bringing the old dog back inside, I slipped out for a quick hike back down the hillside.  Since he is ailing, there is no purpose served in tiring him with my interests.   The hike, itself, was triggered by a glimpse of blossoms down on the east path.  I wanted to get a better glimpse of the tiny blooms.  A few months back, a friend informed me that the bush in question is called sparkleberry.  I had to admit that was a new one to me.  He said that the berries are in the blueberry family and are edible even though they are a rather tart or bitter.  More to my interest was the fact that they could be used to make jelly and jam.  The berries are also known as farkleberries which seems to be a strange name.  Sparkleberry, I can understand as the berries are literally shiny and sparkly!  

  The sparkleberry bush next to the path is actually in a large clump of palmettos. The bush did indeed have thousands of blooms and was also being visited by a good many honeybees and butterflies.  This was good but below the low hanging limbs another cluster of buds caught my eye.  The palmetto was blooming, too.   Ahh, another thing of beauty on such a short hike.  The palmetto dates are supposedly edible, as well.  I have yet to be able to gather any ripe fruit as the raccoons tend to beat me to them each year.  Some day....maybe.

  I had to hurry back to reality so the old dog would not have an anxiety attack.  If I am absent for any length of time he panics and begins to stumble around the room.  My "me time" was over.  Duty called.

Mr. PJ And Rain...He Was Not Amused

  It has always amused me to see dogs frolicking in puddles after a rainstorm or even playing out in the rain.  They seem to be having the best time just being dogs.  The animals are purely blissful and have no worries at the moment.  They are not worried what others think, how dirty they are or if they are getting chilled to the bone.  They just want to play.  People need to be more like that.  

  "I don't like the rain!"  Not me....that comes from the old dog, Mr. PJ.  While I love a good rainy day (or night), he simply hates them.  He is not prone to go gallivanting through the puddles nor likes to be muddy in any sense of the word.  Lord help us if his feet are dirty.  In fact, with the rains of late, he would just as soon stay in bed as venture outside.

  This is not by my doing.  I assume, as a puppy, he never had the opportunity to be "free and wild" in the rain.  Our old Bayou Dog, Ms. Ezzy, loved the rain.  She loved any water and would lounge in a pool, mud puddle, pond, bay, tub or just on a soggy blanket.  Of course, she was a "water dog" being part Labrador.  Ms. Ez was at her happiest when she was swimming.  I am hard pressed to get Mr. PJ in the tub to bathe him.  He sulks the entire time.  

  Yesterday, while out for a potty break, Mr. PJ was a bit agitated.  He did not wish to be outside and was determined to let me know that.  It was for only a split second that the door closed between us but you would have thought it was a lifetime.  The glare that I received because his feet were in a puddle was something else again.  If looks could kill, I would not be around to tell the tale.  I figure I am still here only because he cannot open the door himself.  He was not amused...at all. 

Doggy Playtime

  It is a rare day when the old dog, Mr. PJ, feels like strolling much less playing.  His old body is tired and exerting unneeded energy is a thing of the past.  We go out to do his daily business but the walks are slow and short.  He pants heavily making it back up the hillside from his self-chosen "latrine" area.  Once inside, he retires to his bed and naps for a good solid hour.  Poor old fellow.

  This afternoon, however, he seemed to be a bit perkier than he has in a long while.  Since the weather was relatively nice, we took a leisurely stroll about the yard.  At one point, he actually wanted to play "our" game.  From the time that he came to live at the Bayou a couple of years back, he developed his idea of "Hide and Seek".   I would hide from him and he would sniff my trail until he found me.  Then he would hide.  Or, at least, he would try to hide.  The old dog had no idea that most of the time, I could still see him.  He would hide his face behind a tree, in a bush or even under his paws but the rest of his body was highly visible.  Still, as I would with a two year old child, I had to make the obligatory "hunting gestures".  "Where did Mr. PJ go this time?"  "Where are you, Mr. PJ?"  "Are you over here?"  Yep.  I did all of those.  Then, he would "surprise" me by bouncing out of his hiding place.  He was elated with the game.  So, we played it often.  Today, he hid.

  It was good to see the old dog actually enjoying himself.  We did not play long but his one hiding spot was enough to make him feel like a pup again and that was all that mattered.  When he settled back on his bed this evening, he seemed at ease.  Several times, his tail thumped the floor while he was sleeping.  Yep.  It seems like he was happy.  Amazing what a little playtime can accomplish.

Where Are You?

  Yesterday evening, it was already getting a bit dark when the old dog and I took our last walk for the day.  He meanders the marsh line hunting for the "perfect" spot then does his business.  I tag along to keep him out of trouble and also help him when he stumbles.  Mr. PJ is a good dog and has adapted well to living on the Bayou with one exception.  He has still not learned that the marsh can be a dangerous place and, under no circumstances should one go traipsing about the place.  There are far too many critters that reside there that can potentially hurt someone (even if that someone is a dog).  Yesterday, he was bent on entering the marsh.  It was all I could do to prevent that from happening.  We struggle to make the meeting of minds a nice situation but having a hard-headed dog makes it difficult.  I was just about to give up and let him fulfill his dangerous wishes when something else stepped in to give me a helping hand.  About twenty feet out in the marsh from the dog, a goose started calling.  The noise was exceedingly loud!  So loud, in fact, that it startled Mr. PJ and sent him running back up the hillside.  The goose in my new hero!  

  Again this afternoon, the geese were calling but this time they were overhead instead of in the marsh,  A dozen or so nice geese were leaving my cousin's house and made a large loop over house.  Mr. PJ could hear them but could not figure out where they were.  While nervously searching for the geese, he became a bit disoriented and promptly plopped himself down to wait for me to come to his rescue.  I have never seen a dog so happy as when he finally focused on me.  His tail started wagging and he trotted up to me with wild eyes.  Hearing those loud yells but not being able to find the birds caused him a bit of worry.  He sure was happy to hear me call him to come inside!

Alrighty Then....

  Mr. PJ, the old dog, has been feeling downright poorly for the past few months.  As matter of fact, I was quite worried and still am.  He had bouts of congestion, aches and pains and fatigue.  My poor old buddy was ailing.  After poking him full of just about every known medication in the world (yes, extreme exaggeration there), he showed no signs of improvement. It was disheartening, to say the least.

  Late this evening after he was all settled in for the night, he suddenly stood up and stared at me.  I talked with him a bit and patted his head.  It did nothing to appease him.  He stood.  He stared.  Well, that was a bit unnerving.  I decided that perhaps he would like a treat.  Since the vet put Mr. PJ on a diet, I looked at my list of fruits and chose a banana.  I ate most of it but gave the dog several chunks.  Then he started eyeing my drink. Well...I checked and, yes, he could have pineapple juice.  My well-meaning intentions did not go over so well, however.  I poured about a tablespoon of the juice into his food bowl and waited.  Mr. PJ loves to eat.  Anything that hits that bowl is his and he quickly devours it.  Anything except pineapple juice, obviously.   He took one lap with his tongue and his head jerked up.  He gave me the oddest look as if to say, "What is that junk?  How can you drink it?"  I giggled, quickly took the bowl away and gave him a treat instead.  That did it.  Mr. PJ promptly walked to the door and waited to go outside.  I obliged but, since it was cold, refused to go down the hill.  He would just have to be satisfied with a short walk.  

  Once we were back inside, the old dog had more energy than I have seen in him for months.  He nudged me to keep walking around inside.  Well, maybe he needed exercise?  So we made loops around the furniture in the living room. This soon turned into a game with him trying to "catch" me.  He would dodge this way and that trying to confuse me.  Goodness!  He has not played in a year!  Then, when he cornered me, he tried to grab the hem of my jacket to play tug-o-war.  Oh, no!  The vet had already banned that game.  I tried to get my jacket back and Mr. PJ did his play barking!  WHAT??  He has not barked (even at strangers) in six months!  This was different!  I tried to calm him by distracting him.  We walked to the kitchen where he hurriedly cleaned the floor of all crumbs and extra cat food.  This, too, was something he has not done in a long time.  In fact, he has not done much of anything for a long, long time.  What was up tonight?  After our interesting playtime, Son took the old dog out for yet another outing.  This time, they went all the way down the hill where Mr. PJ wished to traipse in the marsh.  Thankfully, Son had the foresight to leash the old fellow before beginning the walk so there was no marsh tromping.  A half hour later, they came back inside but Mr. PJ's energy was not expended, as of yet.  More circling the furniture and cleaning the floors.  Afterward, he spied the cat.  He tried to get a good game of chase going with Ms. Nycto but she was having no part of it.  

  All of this is a bit confusing.  One part of me is in hopes that it is a sign that he is finally getting well.  Another, more disturbing side, has a nagging feeling that perhaps he needed one more day of being a puppy.  Hopefully, the first is true and there will be many, many more days of puppy-like feelings.  He and I both so enjoyed our evening....even with the foul-tasting pineapple juice incident!  I will say a little prayer that he is on the mend.

The "Lichen Hike"

  Son often says that I am easily amused.  I admit to the fact that I can be intrigued by the most ordinary things on earth.  What others find mundane, I find interesting...so interesting, in fact, that I become completely engrossed.  Lately (with my hikes being shortened due to care for the old dog), my in depth investigations are limited to mosses, lichens and fungi.  These are easily obtainable due to our heavy fogs and copious amounts of rain.  (The Deep South is quickly becoming akin to a rain forest! Well, at least in the imagination.) 

  On a short hike to take the old dog out, I came across yet another beautiful lichen that had been knocked from the old oak tree.  It seems that the squirrels delight in pulling the fluffs from the limbs as they are used to line the squirrels' nests.  It is an interesting thing, when you think about it.  Squirrels are smart.  Lichens are on the squirrels' diet list.  When times get lean, they can eat their houses!  Not many critters can say that!  Anyway, back to that lichen, finding it sent me into another tizzy!  I need to be collecting these things as specimens for my greenhouse transformation come October!  I have already decided that for the clue hunt this year, the greenhouse needs to be covered in mosses but....what respectable swamp witch hut would be without lichens?  

  My interest in this particular lichen was how adorable each frond was.  When getting up close and personal with the lichen through the camera lens, I was duly impressed by the shapes and colors.  I found them pretty while one friend said they looked a lot like  "man-eating plants from a horror movie".  Well, maybe.  But, then again, I never found horror movies terribly horrifying so maybe I am mistaken.  Still, gathering the downed lichens has become a priority on my short hikes.  It gives me something to look forward to as the old dog does his business and then heads back to the house.  He waddles along the path while I juggle handfuls of wet lichens.  We understand each others idiosyncrasies so all is good.

Little Flame of Red!

  The old dog is still not doing the best so my limitations on hiking are still in effect.  We slowly meander about a hundred feet down the hill, he sits, I try to find something interesting to pass the time as he gazes at whatever is in front of him and then we return to the Little Bayou House.  This routine is ok as it is all he can muster but it does make for a lack of photographs.  Patience is a virtue.

  This afternoon while he spent ten minutes staring at Ms. Nycto (the cat), I stared at a single red leaf.  The tiny leaf was being back lit by the sun that was quickly sliding down to the western horizon.  In all of its one inch glory, the leaf fought back at the coming darkness.  It literally glowed!  It was a brilliant beacon in amongst the dull browns of the fallen oak leaves...a little flame of red!

  Thinking this little leaf was one that had recently fallen from a nearby tree, I tried to pluck it from the ground.  Nope, it wasn't happening.  This little leaf was the entirety of a plant.  With its roots firmly affixed, there was no pulling this plant!  A baby smilax vine had sprouted and was doing its best to survive the winter (or lack thereof.  Lucky plant).  

  Smilax vines are some of the most difficult vines to remove from the ground.  Their vines are covered with thorns which makes grasping difficult but it is the root system that causes it to be a nigh on impossible task to pull them from the ground.  Even this tiny two inch tall vine with its single leaf has a root tuber about an inch in diameter.  It seems that the root ball grows much quicker than the upper portion of the vine.  Once established, however, the vines can quickly cover anything on which they can grasp!  Tendrils reach out and wrap around twigs of other plants. The sheer tenacity of smilax is amazing!

  I really should have yanked the smilax from the ground and thrown it into the burn bin but something told me to leave it be.  Perhaps it being my bright spot of the day had something to do with that decision...one I may regret come this summer.  For now, however, the tiny red leaf can glow in comfort as I have no desire to remove it.  It whiled away a good ten minutes for me.