So here we are having a little doxie life. I mean, Mama and Papa busily waiting for my hardcover book coming out this Friday.
And then we get this pretty magical hat. We guess, from packaging it comes all the way from Canada somewhere. Papa gets to wear it when we go out and do "doxie work", if you know what I mean. It is quite endearing. And then again, out of the blue we get a little doxie stuffed dog. At this point we have no idea who has sent these items. So now, the little stuffed doxie reminds us of my brother "Stonewall", which made me think of Stony Stories. Papa named him because Papa loves studying and talking and visiting about the "Civil War".
And so Stony's legal name is Stonewall Jackson, which is pretty cool because
he was a miniature short haired black and tan doxie who only weighed 11 pounds
but he had the personality of a prize fighter.
(After Papa named our cat April, after April 1865, the year the Civil War ended, he was not allowed to name any more pets. Funny). He was the smallest of us all, but he was KING OF THIS ROOST. What a hoot he was. Even my brothers Kira and Merlin, Blue Merle collies deferred to Stony. He was so funny to watch. He would jump up and down, straight up and down, like a Jack Russel Terrier. He could stare any of us down. If you put his squeaky bone on top of the refrigerator, he would climb to the top of the stairs, to up stairs and just stare at it. I guess he thought we understood ESP (extra sensory perception) and would get the vibe that he wanted us to "get that bone down". He never understood that is was Mama and Papa who put it up there in the first place. I mean, how many times can you listen to a squeaky bone. I mean, let it go. But he never did. Auntie Kelly gave him his first bone, and he chewed it non stop until he chewed the squeaker out and then swallowed it. So, as good aunties do, she bought him another one. Auntie Kelly sent the folks a great canvas picture of my t shirt. It looks great on the wall. You can see it next to Papa. But I digress. Anyway, Stony was smart, He chewed all kinds of holes in that rubber bone, but left the squeaker intact. He LOVED THAT SOUND!!. He was fondly known in the family as Little P_ss and Sh_t. Because if he loved you when you walked through the door, well, he just could not help himself. He would just "pee the floor" right there. Uncle Phil was the one we think he was most endeared to. He never, not once, neglected to "christen" the floor when Uncle Phil came by. When Bumble Bee, granddaughter to Mama and Pap was nine, she was riding in the truck with him on her lap and he christened her, as another favorite (poop and all). And you definitely could not ever eat food next to his face, he had no qualms about taking a bite right off your plate. All in all he led a wonderful life. He and I were "COUCH POTATOES FOREVER". He christened every couch we ever had, so the folks finally went to leather. He figured out early on that if he peed on a blanket kindly put in his crate, he could "flip it over" and sleep on the dry side. What a guy. I miss him every day because he and I spent most of our lives together. He most enjoyed his last year with the family. He went camping, traveled a bit, slept in the sun a lot. He was our own "Stony Wall". Now I am thirteen, and he has not been gone a year yet. But I miss him, truly, EVERY SINGLE DAY. Oh, and the hat and the doxie Papa is holding, that came from auntie Heather for Papa's father's day.
Thank you auntie Kelly and auntie Heather.