"The day is never long enough to get more in when you're with the dogs ."

Carol Cassidy

Gypsy and Stella - a Flatcoat Christmas Tale

Submitted by Bruce Brown

Very few things get to me except where my Grrrls are concerned. The thought of them getting loose still scares the Dickens out of me….wherever that saying came from…maybe the Christmas Carol……

It was Christmas-time 2006 and we were in Sarasota visiting my brother and Mom while attending a Christmas party. We arrived back in Venice early at about 8 p.m. where it was quite dark and a night for party-goers. We live in a quiet neighborhood, but our house faces one long street with a dead-end to the west and the Tamiami Trail to the east about .7 of a mile. As we entered the house we heard the customary banging and shaking of crates with Gypsy and Stella causing a ruckus. I’m sure many of you can relate to two sixty-five pound littermates wanting to exit their crates and extend a hearty welcome after five hours in confinement.

Our yard is fenced with gates on the west and east sides of the house; both latched or locked. I let the Grrrls out without looking at the closest gate and to my amazement and dismay the gate was open….they had escaped!!! We live in an area with a combination of busy and non-busy VERY dark streets and someone had been in the back yard and opened the gate. My guess it was one of the brats next door who finally left after the police discovered a meth lab, but I digress.

I must admit Doris was calmer than I was, but I know my Grrrls and envisioned awful things. I walked a couple of blocks east and Doris walked one to the west, but not a peep. Doris then engaged a neighbor with two Jack Russels to help her look while I took to the van. I drove up and down streets for an hour criss-crossing in a pattern I thought was suitable for hunting down two black dogs at night. I noticed a few parties going on in the neighborhood and there were people walking about.

I drove by a couple who told me, “Yeah we saw them. We tried to get them, but they ran away from us”. I thanked them and drove on.I drove by four kids working on Mustangs and asked them if they’d seen the Grrrls. “No we haven’t, but I know what flatcoats look like. They’re rare aren’t they?” I agreed and kept driving. What I heard next was a bit disconcerting. About fifty minutes into this I passed someone who said, "Yeah, I heard one of them had crashed through a screen and was swimming in a pool."...had to be Gypsy….it was going to be an expensive night.

Finally Doris got a call from someone a few blocks away. She and another neighbor had captured these two maniac dogs. When I drove over to the woman’s house I saw two people hanging onto two wiggly flatcoats. The very understanding fellow had to get pull one of the girls out of his koi pond, thank you Gypsy. The woman was holding back the other dog who had rolled in unmentionable stuff...thank you Stella. Those folks were very nice considering what they were dealing with, but what can I say…they love dogs.

Both girls are chipped and have tags with our names and phone numbers on them so in that respect they are well-protected. I'm very thankful nothing bad happened to them and was totally relieved to get them into the van. Now I await a call about a section of swimming pool screen.........

By Beryl Allen
Submitted by Elizabeth Masters

There was a time, there really was
When I was sweet and tender
When Show Dog meant a Disney Star
And bitch was not a gender

I went to bed at half past ten
I went to Church on Sunday
On Saturday I baked the beans
And did the wash on Monday

But then I got a certain pup
And one erstwhile friend said “SHOW”
And so I did and so I do
OH! What I didn’t know

I used to dress with flair and style
That was the life, don’t knock it
But now each dress from bed to ball
Must have a good bait pocket

I used to have a certain air
I wallowed in perfume
I used to smell of Nuit D’Amour
Now I smell like Mr. Groom

My furniture was haute décor
My pets a tank of guppies
Now I’ve furniture unstuffed
And well-adjusted puppies

Once I spoke in pristine prose
In dulcet tones and frail
But now I’m using language
That would turn a sailor pale.

I was taught to be well groomed
No matter where I went
Now all the grooming that I do
Is in the handler’s tent

I used to long for furs and jewels
And a figure classed as super
Now the thing I yearn for most
Is a nice new pooper scooper

I adored a man who murmured verse
Through intimate little dinners
But now the words I thrill to hear
Are just three “Best of Winners”

I rise at dawn and pack the car
The road ahead’s a long one
The one I routed on the maps
Invariably’s the wrong one

I really love this doggy life
I wouldn’t care to change it
But when I get that Best in Show
I plant to rearrange it

When my time on earth is done
I’ll go without much nudging
Just give me three weeks closing date
And let me know who’s Judging