From Dog House to Spa: The Ultimate Pampered Pooch

          Back when I was growing up, taking care of the family pet was a walk in the park.You took them for their shots once a year and when they looked or acted poorly you took them to see the local vet.  They ate Gravy Train for dinner and slept on a rug or in a basket.  Children went out to play and Rover followed them all over the neighborhood. 

Speed forward fifty years.  You can still buy Gravy Train but there is also Chef Michaels’ gourmet stew in small tubs, no left-overs for fussy eaters.  Bakeries that cater to the canine palate have sprung up across America from big cities to small towns.  Birthday parties as well as weddings complete with dresses, tuxes, rings, cakes etc. can be catered and orchestrated.

If you have an uptown kind of dog, you can find collars with jewels that cost more than my daughter’s college education.  And of course you can buy the most chic outfit to show it off.

It used to be you went off with your girlfriends for a spa weekend.  Now you can have a spa weekend with your pooch.  She gets a blueberry facial, massage, aroma therapy and a swim.   If you live in the city and work, you can send your best friend out for a good run with an athlete or send them to doggie daycare.

   Want to spend more time with your doggie?  Take a yoga class with him/her.  When the owner is relaxed and feeling good, the pet relaxes and a strong connection is made between the two.

If you live in California, you can subscribe to Dog TV.  They show a variety of shows to relax the anxious dog, stimulate the sluggish dog and entertain.  At some day care and boarding centers, they show dog friendly movies and give aroma therapy.  

For pet lovers who don’t have a pool, you can join a swim club for dogs.  One of our local vets has a bone shaped pool behind her clinic.  She hosts dog swim parties a couple of times a summer. 

Have a best friend, who is a little large for a pool?  Take him to a dog beach and play together in the sand.

There are as many extravagances for dog lovers and their constant companions as there are breeds.  That’s all for today, I have to go massage my Angel while her blueberry mask sets.  Then we’re going for a swim.  What do you do to pamper your furry loved ones?  Tell us in the comment box.

Hard Rock Café and Casino, Watch out for the Grannies!

The story a few weeks ago about a weekly gathering of elderly women in Cyprus brought back memories from my childhood.  This group of genarians  got together once a week.  Apparently on this day they preferred poker to bridge.  It also just happened the police chose this day to raid the party, arresting about 40 women. The women, were all 70 and older, including a 98 year old.  The cash involved was small, probably a little higher than penny poker (a penny doesn’t go as far as it used to).  When the attorney general heard about the arrests, he quickly dropped all charges.  Maybe one of the ladies was his grandmother. 

From my earliest days I remember the weekly poker game that took place in my home-town.  Like in Guys and Dolls, the game moved from one house to another.  Not because the players were afraid of being found out, but to give everyone a chance to provide the beer and peanuts.  The group that gathered was a distinguished lot, a well known attorney, professors, doctors and of course the clerk of the court.  It was amazing, these professional men started acting like rowdy teenagers the moment they crossed the threshold.  They whooped and hollered, told what they thought were bawdy jokes and generally had a good time.  As the group aged, the games ended earlier, the pots grew bigger and the drinking less.  Age forced some to hitch a ride with a fellow poker player, making parking easier.  Life cycles changed the roster every so often and on weeks when they couldn’t find enough players, the game was cancelled.  I don’t know if there is still a game going on, all I know is the group my dad played with is long gone.  May the gents from the old poker game always be able to ante up and put together a winning hand.  As I finish this entry, I wonder, if a strip poker game is raided, would the players be arrested?  After all, there would be no money in the pot to use as evidence.  On the other hand, the loser might be arrested for indecent exposure since they wouldn’t be wearing any if much clothing. 

Until next time, when playing any form of strip game, make sure you’re the winner either by actually winning the game or losing to a really cute opponent.

‘

The Chamilian Car

I read a story the other day about a Grandma who caught four men stealing her car from a parking lot. She threw down her bags, pulled out her .38 and yelled, "Get away from the car or I'll shoot." The four immediately took off at lightening speed. The woman proceeded to put her bags in the back seat and go home. She tried and tried to start the car but the key wouldn't fit the ignition. That's when she noticed personal items in the car that weren't hers. Face red, she realized she was in the wrong car. Her car, same make, model and color was one row over. She drove to the police station to report what she had done. The officer on duty smiled and pointed to a group of men who were reporting a car jacking by a little old lady. No charges were filed.

I drive a Desert Sand Camry. If the Camry is one of the most popular cars, Desert Sand must be the most popular color. Every time I go out I pass several Camrys that look just like mine. I have even parked next to an identical Camry at Wal-Mart. Now, I didn't go as far as pulling a weapon and ordering a group of would-be thieves to move away from the car but I have to admit I have mistakenly gotten into the wrong Camry at Wal-Mart.
I opened the front door, threw my bags in the passenger seat. As I leaned over I noticed a a sweater tossed over the the back of the passenger seat. It didn't look familiar but I checked it off to being my daughter's. As I tried to put the key in the ignition I saw a banana peel slung over the dash. I may not have recognized my daughter's sweater but I knew I hadn't left a blackening banana peel on my dash. That's when I started noticing other small details that screamed, get out of the car, it's not yours! I couldn't scramble out of that car fast enough. I worried what I would say if the real owner came back as I was taking my bags out. No one came and I successfully found and drove off in my Desert Sand Camry. If the other owner had come back, I would have complimented them on their choice of car and pray they had a good sense of humor. Until next time remember, bright, neon colored autos never get lost in a crowded parking lot.

My Annual Christmas Letter

Merry Christmas from the Ritchie’s where Christmas stays year round
Christmas 2011

It’s hard to imagine it’s Christmas again. Time seemed to stand still at 10 Bogey Drive, no wait, time didn’t stand still, I never put the decorations away last year making decorating this year a snap.
I’ll get the sad news out of the way first, so I can leave you with a smile at the end. My dad’s health went down-hill this past year. In November of 2010 he broke his hip while learning how to safely get in and out of bed, irony at its best or worst. I rushed to Gainesville to sign the consent forms for surgery. To make a long story short, we lost him on February 3rd of 2011. Mac, Edward and I took his ashes to Camden this past August and among friends and family buried him next to his parents and brother.
So far Frank has survived Governor Scott’s drastic draining of the Water Management District. The Bartow office is scheduled to close in January. Frank and the remaining engineers will work from a smaller space or commute to Tampa or Brooksville.
Frank had minor surgery this year on his right leg. He had a calcium blockage in the main artery. The doctor went in and chiseled it out. The procedure was successful and he’s back to his normal activities.
Susan is in her third year at Belmont Abbey, officially she is a senior but with her double major will graduate next year, then it’s on to Veterinary School. I can’t wait to get my discounted vet care for all my furry children.
Susan turned 21 in September, in October I got a phone call, “Mom, don’t sound so happy, I have bad news.” Being the concerned parent that I am, I immediately asked if she and Flo (her car) were okay. Turns out she was sipping a glass of wine and tipped it over into the keyboard of her MacBook. She quickly said she was not drunk, just clumsy. Her friend Frank who is a computer whiz helped her find and purchase another laptop, not an Apple but good for what she needs. The conversation ended with how she set a piece of bread on fire in the cafeteria. Only Susan could do all this in the same week.
I belong to the Florida Writer’s Association, every year they sponsor a conference and writing contest. I have been a finalist for the last three or four years, this year I finally won third place for my picture book manuscript, Daisy’s Hat. I showed it to an agent at the conference who liked the idea but suggested I tweak out one third of the words. I have been working on the revision, writer’s always say writing is easy, it’s the revision that is H@**. They are right.
I am convinced our house is on a yoyo diet. No sooner do I recycle pounds and pounds of paper, an equal amount plus some sneaks back in. Every year I commit to cleaning out our house, every year flies by with only minimal progress. Maybe I should just get some TNT and blow it all away in one swoop. Or I could hold a contest, the person who fills the most trash bags and puts away the most keepers wins a Classic French Dinner, cooked by none other than moi; after all, I am a trained French Chef. Any takers?
Angel has sprung back to life this past year, she started slowing down until the little Twit (Gabriel’s nickname) moved in. Just when you start relaxing he comes along and stirs things up. He, Angel and Rocky get out and zoom all over the yard, I have never seen a dog run as fast as Gabriel. There’s a sign with a dog that says, “I can make it to the fence in 3 seconds, can you?” That could be Gabriel talking. Of course, once at the fence is drown you in slobber. Angel does her best to keep up but age and arthritis has slowed her down. She has lost weight this year from all the extra activity. Dr. Ezell was pleased about that. Angel has never liked to swim but Gabriel has turned into a champ, we have a clip on YouTube of the two of us swimming laps. He now jumps in whenever he gets on the pool deck. I always have towels on hand for drying. Gabriel has other tricks too, if the door is unlocked, he lets himself and any other critter lurking about, into the house. Another thing he does is eat then put his head in your lap and let out a loud burp. One night we left him in his crate, to our surprise he met us at the door when we got home. He learned to shake the crate until the back side collapses, I guess it’s a good thing he is house broken.
Gabe, Frank and I all graduated from obedience class. We did the basic and the next level. Now that he is over a year old, I plan to have him evaluated as a reading dog.
Our young family next door stays on the go. Little Alexander who joined us the week between Christmas and New Years has grown from a tiny, wrinkled bundle to a whopping one year old. His smile is disarming and his blue eyes make it a doubly so. His big brother Pito keeps growing too and maturing too. He keeps everyone on their toes. He loves the pool and playing Ninja warrior.
Well that’s, that’s all folks until next year. Remember to visit my blog, fruit2nuts.blogspot.com for some comic relief during the year. I’ll leave you with this image,
My brother Edward and I went to Camden in the spring to take a look at our family property. The once clear fields were waist high in growth, it was not a walk in the park. Through the middle runs a creek. Edward made it across without incident, I stared at the rocks and shook my head. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll help you. Just step where I did” I stepped on the first rock, stoped to regain my balance before taking the next. I got to the middle before I slipped landing on my feet. I blew out a breath of relief, I could handle wet feet and now that they were wet I didn’t have to worry about balancing on rocks. My next step landed in a hole where my foot wedged between two rocks. I went down without warning. I was drenched. Edward helped me up. I finished our survey in squishing shoes and clinging Levi’s.
Take care, and if you visit Lego Land, come by and sit for a spell. I’ll leave out a glass of my famous Cranberry Liqueur or homemade wine for you.

Between A Rock And A Hard Place

Happy Thanksgiving to all my readers in Blog Land. I’m taking a few minutes off from cooking, baking and roasting to remind everyone what could happen if you eat too much on this festive day of gluttony.

In the past couple of weeks there has been three or four stories about people, all men, who have found themselves in tight squeezes.

First up, there is the man- the story did not indicate how old this man was, but I assumed he was on the short side of forty. It seems he made a bet with his buddies and ended up at the park stuck in a kiddie swing all night. He was cut out the next morning by city workers. His buddies, of course, were nowhere to be seen. I wonder if they are still friends.

The next story I found concerned a man old enough to know better. He was dressed in outdoor wear; all you could see was from the waist up. From the waist down he was wedged inside a hollow tree trunk. He was freed after passers-by heard him yelling for help. There was no mention of why he had lowered himself into the hollow in the first place.

The third and final story for today concerns a teenage boy. Being a teen, he can be released of total blame, after all studies show your brain isn’t fully developed to assess the consequences of behavior until you reach your mid-twenties. He was found lodged in a chimney after spending a long, cold night wedged between the bricks. No, he was not trying out for the role of Santa by using the method acting approach. He did admit to using the chimney as his entry on his way to rob the house.

These three examples of being too big for the space occupied may double after today’s meal. After all, most of us will over-eat, distorting our reality of what space we can fit in to.

Until next time, eat all the Pumpkin and Apple pie you want……..it’s only fruit you know.

What is Reality?

Remember Rupert Boneham from Survivor? He debuted on Survivor: Pearl Islands. He endeared himself to us when on the first day he stole everyone’s shoes off the beach. After all, he remarked they were supposed to be pirates and what do pirates do? They steal. He went on to compete in Survivor All Stars and won the Fan favorite Award.
I ran across an article last week announcing that Rupert is joining other celebs such as Clint Eastwood and Sonny Bono in the political arena. He is running for governor of Indiana.

What kind of governor will Rupert make? Will he continue to act like he is on Survivor, voting people off who displease him? Will opponents be sent to Redemption Island for soul searching? Will he keep his beard and wild man’s hair, scaring women and children on the campaign trail? Only time will tell. First he has to win. The election and voting will not happen around a tribal fire, voters will not have the opportunity to show their fellow citizens of Indiana their ballot and explain their vote. The loser will not have to put out his/her torch and walk down a dark path, they simply get to fade into the background.
Reality TV has come a long way since the early days of television. Back then we had three stations with choices such as Candid Camera, To Tell the Truth and Mike Douglas. Today with the hundreds of stations and the low cost of producing a reality show as opposed to Star Trek there is something for everyone.

If you are a non-housekeeper like me, there is clean sweep. A crew comes in, empties out one room and does a make-over. If you really have a problem parting with stuff, there is Hoarders. My husband is thank-full I haven’t reached that point.

Do your children act like little heathens? Call Super Nanny or Nanny 911. Children too old for a nanny? Intervention, Runaway or Teen Mom may be for you. Maybe your kids want to be in charge, build a social structure the way they think it should be. Send them to Kid Nation where kids are king with no parents to interfere.

Do you or your tiny tot have talent? For you there is American Idol and for the tots, Toddlers and Tiaras.

Not married and need a date or a mate? The Bachelor, The Bachelorette or Who Wants to Marry My Dad may be able to help.

Already married? You can go from The Dating Game to The Newly Wed Game. Marriage not working like you dreamed? Take your marital woes to Dr. Phil or Divorce Court.

For those of us Who Wants to win a millionaire, we can join the casts of Survivor, The Amazing Race or Wheel of Fortune.

If you are into wanting to see how the other half lives, try out for wife-swap or Undercover Boss. I could go on and on but you get the drift. It seems like anyone can have their own reality show. Mine would be Stumbling Through Life without a Single Sip or The Laundry Basket is Always Full. Until next time share what your Reality show would be named and share it under comments.

Drunk Again!

Imagine you are a fireman in Sweden, now imagine a phone call asking you to come and rescue a moose stuck in a tree. Not just any moose in any tree. A drunken moose in an apple tree. Seems the moose stopped to eat some apples unaware the fruit had fermented. He started with apples on the ground and moved on to apples still clinging to the branches. Being drunk by this time he lost control of his massive antlers, as he reached higher and higher for more of the forbidden fruit his antlers became entangled in the apple tree's branches. The more he struggled to free himself, the further off the ground his body became. When the home owners found him, he was too drunk to get himself down. They called their local fire department, they do after all rescue cute little kittens stuck in trees. To the fireman's relief, the moose had sobered a little and somehow detangled himself from the tree. The moose was gone the next morning when the homeowners woke up.

Moose aren't the only critters known for getting drunk or climbing trees. Birds eat fermented berries all the time; you can see them wobbling on telephone wires now and again. Then of course there are the monkeys on an island in the Caribbean who have become fond of the mixed drinks served beach side to the tourist. They have become very good at swiping drinks and making off with them. Some get so drunk they can't sit up, others find climbing trees impossible. Recently I researched goats. I found an article call, Goats in Trees. Curiosity took me to the site. There on my computer screen was a picture of a tree full of goats. Seems these goats in Morocco like the berries this tree produces. They like them so much they taught themselves how to climb up onto the limbs to reach more berries. The picture looked like a tree decorated with goats. It was quite amazing.

Until next time, keep the critters sober; eat the fermented fruit before they can.