Hey, It’s Jet Here.

Mom told me she listened to this human named Marv Alpert call the NY Knicks’ games on the radio as a young girl.  If you’ve read my posts for a while, you know Mom LOVES basketball.  Now, this Marv Alpert guy calls games for the whole NBA on television.  In sports, commentators become famous for certain phrases they say during games.  Mr. Marv loves to say YESSSSS! when a player makes an outstanding play or shot.  Here’s a link so you can listen and know what Mom’s talking about.

Tonight, Mom, JJ and I headed out for our evening constitutional.  As you know, I’ve struggled to complete my evening walks.  My courage meter quivered over the last week and a half for a few different reasons:  the booms, the neighbor’s car door, the sirens, the helicopters and other assorted sonar experiences.  We tried taking our left square route, which I have refused to follow of late.

I felt good.  I emptied my tank here and there, did two solid businesses reminding everyone Jet Was Here and practiced my trot and swagger.  Mom said “Uh uh” in her deep, “I’m serious” voice twice along the way when I started to hesitate and assume my, “I’m not budging stance.”  Otherwise, we pleasantly passed familiar houses and lawns.

As we rounded the corner on our street, Mom heard Mr. Marv’s voice say YESSSSS! in her mind and knew that I would share the same feeling of accomplishment.

Another great, “YESSSS I did it!” day.


Hoofing It

Hey, It’s Jet Here.

Gotta hand it to JJ, she’s quite the archeologist.  Over the last two days, she sniffed and then excavated two hooves buried deep inside the crevice of Mom’s treadmill.  When she finally dug the first hoof out, I tried not to remove it for further inspection.  At some point, I felt the unquenchable need to give her my investigative opinion.  Mom allowed me to take the hoof on our evening walk with Mary Ann and Dixie.   Excuse me, Jet?  Yes Mom?  I would like to add one sentence if I may.  Sure Mom, go ahead.   Thanks, Jetty.  Jet and JJ rotated custody of the hoof on the walk until at some point, I quietly realized they left it somewhere along the route.  Back to you my boy. 

Yesterday afternoon, JJ completed another treadmill hoof excavation.  When I removed it from her mouth, Mom made a mental note to give JJ another after our walk.  For some reason (see above) Mom removed the hoof from my mouth before we left the house. Due to a loud noise from our neighbor’s car door slamming, my personal walk aborted quickly.  Mom and JJ returned me to the safety of the kitchen and resumed their evening constitutional.

Mom did a bit of excavating in the laundry room to determine where the few remaining hooves in a bag were.  Hidden deep in our cat litter pail architecture (to prevent the K9s from visiting the litter box) she selected a hoof for JJ and returned my earlier specimen to me.  For 1 ¾ hours, JJ and I happily licked, chipped, cracked, and chewed on our hooves.  We switched hooves politely a few times to compare quality.  Mom appreciated the uninterrupted time on the computer.

Oh, I realized that some of you may not know the whole hoof story.  You see, in an effort to be wholistic, companies collect, clean and sanitize cow hooves.  We, K9s chew on them as toys and dental treats.  While a bit stinky, for those of us who enjoy a good chew, hooves are a natural choice.  At first, Mom got grossed out a bit, now; she handles the concept in a tip to tail, using the whole animal, respectful kind of way.

Another great chewy day.

Do I Look Like a Pin Cushion?

Hey, It’s Jet Here.

Last night, after we returned home from our evening walk, JJ and I enjoyed our Bone-a-Mint treats.  Mom had lots of computer work, so I naturally relaxed in my favorite location under the desk by Mom’s right foot.  She stayed there for hours and hours after she converted my dictation to yesterday’s post.  JJ and I required attention along the way; Mom threw rope toys into the hallway for JJ and gave me some much needed massaging.  When she touched my leg, she exclaimed, “OUCH!”  Mom gently passed her hand through my fur again and extracted this.

While it may look small to you, when you have several poking you like pins, believe me, size doesn’t matter.  Mom said she would comb me out and she kept her promise all the while telling me in her sweet voice that she was sorry those mean needles had the nerve to poke me like that.  My “flea comb” (I don’t have fleas, however, it’s a great tool for sticker and pin removal), caught about 30 of these pins throughout my fur, concentrated mostly on my legs and paws.

Mom ended up sitting on a stray pin as she scooched around the floor to comb my whole body.  Now she REALLY understands my pain!  She told me about the time a few years back when Koko and I found our way into a huge patch of pins and after a Spa Day with pre-combing and post combing, she removed about 200 from each of us.

She also told me that the pins reminded her of her visit to Arizona.  Mom decided to take a trail ride.  The guide warned her about this tree/shrub (she cannot recall the name) which shoots spikes like porcupine quills into the horses if they brush up against it.  YOUCH!

I hope I can remember to be more careful this morning, although we’re not sure what plant to avoid.  After all, do I look like a pin cushion?

Another great non-pin cushion day.

More De”tails”…

Hey, It’s Jet Here.

Mom told my Auntie Liz more about the GRSF reunion last night.  I heard Auntie Liz laugh when Mom shared about the agility course.  You see, the park had agility toys for us.  Mom thought I would just love to walk up this climbing thing and run down the other side.  Since I only wore my collar, she held it firmly to keep my attention and sweetly spoke encouraging words with her “You can do it, Jetty” attitude.  Ok, I figured I would climb the first section to give Mom some pawsitive reinforcement.  As expected, she praised my success and encouraged me to continue.  Judiciously (vocabulary expansion), I walked up sections 2-4 until I reached the apex.  Mom congratulated me big time.  She and I were on top of the world… until I layed down and began to do the backwards slide.  Mom tried to slow me down with no luck; I slid right back down onto the dirt.

JJ happened to pass by so Mom figured she would attempt the climb with her.  Little Miss Show Off barely needed Mom’s guidance, she trotted to the apex and posed for pictures.  JJ must have had gymnastic training before joining us because she jumped right off hitting the ground trotting like “no big deal!”  hmpf… She didn’t make dirt angels!  Jetty, each being finds activities right for them; I was so proud of you for trying while the park bustled with K9s and people.

Miss Sharon from the Rescue sold beautiful Golden Greeting cards to Mom.  The proceeds help GRSF with their vet bills.  Ask her to write you a letter so you can see the cards.

Lots of humans wanted to meet Boozer and his family.  His dad puts really cool pictures and stories of Boo on the GRSF facebook page.  I heard lots of clicks from Boozer’s dad’s camera; can’t wait to see the results online.

Oh, two of the Christmas puppies attended the reunion.  I watched one of the puppies play with some pals in the dirt.  He ended up looking like a Dalmatian instead of a golden!  Bet he took a long bath Saturday night.  JJ and I deferred Spa Day until yesterday because of the late return home and subsequent nap.  Mom wanted me to let you know that it took double the shampoo on my back and belly from my artistic dirt expressions.

Another great day.

How Many Goldens (& Honorary Goldens) Does It Take…

Hey, It’s Jet Here.

Yup, we’re posting late again today.  You’ll understand why as you read along.  As you know from yesterday’s post, we could not wait to go to the Golden South Florida Rescue Reunion.  We left at 9:10 after Mom harnessed JJ and me and clipped us in to our seatbelts.  (Safety First!)  At 10:00 a.m., Mom called in to Miss Lorna’s blogtalk radio show; we promised to try to stay quiet.  (Yes, Mom pulled over to this thing called a shoulder and put on hazard lights.)  Guess what?  Miss Lorna’s first guest did not call in so she asked Mom where she was going and they spoke about dog rescue, breed rescue, and our reunion until 10:15, Mom’s regular Kitchen Counselor spot.  THANKS MISS LORNA, you will undoubtably help so many of my fellow K9s waiting for adoption!

We arrived at the park promptly at 11:00; stretched and shook to get our bodies ready to play.  Miss Wendy and Miss Rebecca (and Jack) found us quickly.  Miss Wendy gave me lots of hugs, kisses, and attention.  Mom photographed Miss Wendy with JJ because I had K9s to see and places to go.  I loved hanging out with everyone; I trotted from group to group.  OH did we love the dirt.  I decided to try my paws at dirt angels.  Mom said you humans make snow angels in a similar manner.  Lots of humans laughed at my antics, although I’m not sure why.

Several GRSF volunteers doggie-sat us while our humans had lunch next door on the human side of the park.  Miss Wendy, Miss Rebecca, Mom and a few others hung out, swapped stories and enjoyed the sunny day.  After lunch, Mom played fetch with JJ while I enjoyed the ambiance for a little while longer.  Mom brought us to the human side (as did everyone else and their K9s) and we sat in the grass while the leader of GRSF, Miss Carol, spoke to us.  Then, they participated in this thing called a raffle and another thing called a silent auction.  Mom didn’t win anything; she told us she should not play this thing called the lottery.

We said our goodbyes and journeyed home for another 2 hours.  JJ and I totally pooped out and slept almost the whole way home until we hit this stuff called traffic by our house.  That’s how Mom took this picture.  Would you believe all three of us then slept for 5 hours?  We woke up at 9:48 p.m., had dinner, Mom cooked for two hours to get ready for work today and walked us around 11:30.

Another great day (reunion)!


Hey, It’s Jet Here.

Today is the day, the Golden Rescue South Florida Reunion!  Mom, JJ and I can’t wait to see everyone.  First, Mom has to collect:

  • The collar GRSF lent us the night we took JJ home for a “sleepover.”
  • My cool bandana.
  • A bandana that JJ won’t eat?
  • Water for our 90+ mile drive (each way… Mom is dedicated.  Thanks Jetty.  Welcome, Mom.)
  • Our seatbelts and harnesses.
  • Towels for all sorts of reasons. (We sit on a car seat protector.)
  • Mom’s camera, phone, charger and phone number to call in for radio spot.  (see below.)
  • Other stuff we can’t remember right now.

Mom says this procedure reminds her of when my human sister, Rachel, traveled in the car.  She said she felt like they moved every day!

Can you believe Mom will stop midway through the drive to have her 5 minute And The Women Gather blogradio spot with Lorna Owens?  Miss Lorna knows Mom will use her mobile phone today; however, she is unaware that JJ and I will sit beside her in the car.  Hopefully, we will not have any comments to share.

I’m particularly excited to meet Miss Wendy and Miss Rebecca because they write such nice words to me.  Miss Rebecca’s dog, Jack, already told us what bandana he will sport!  While JJ will blend quickly into the crowd, only a few flat coat retriever mixes will attend, so, Mom should spot me easily.  Plus, I have quite the swagger, if I don’t say so myself!

We thought about having an early spa day today, and then thought the better of it.  No doubt, we will have so much fun playing tomorrow, we will come home filthy!

All three of us want to go to sleep on time tonight (I’m dictating this post early) to maximize our energy tomorrow.

Another great and partying kind of day!

Ladies, Ladies – Can’t Stop to Chat Right Now

Hey, It’s Jet Here. 

Last night, Mom took JJ and me out early for our evening walk so she could drop my human sister, Rachel, off at the hospital to visit her Grandma and make her meeting on time.  Mom described the sky color as violet mixed with deepening blue, the final colors of light before the night sky takes over.  We proceeded in the counter clockwise version of our morning rectangular route. 

We immediately heard our friend Dixie barking up a storm.  I think she tried to tell us her Mom was not home yet, why were we walking so early?  Then, as we passed Vance and Vilda’s house, they went bazonkers.  I think they asked us say hi at the fence.  When we did, the racket hurt Mom’s ears; we returned to the street and kept going.  As we rounded the corner, Pebbles, the large boxer with a deep, low pitched Kathleen Turner voice, dared me to play “chase me up and down the fence.”  I wanted to oblige and pulled hard mimicking Pebbles’ moves from the street.  Mom made it clear that we didn’t have time and kept moving towards the next corner.  

Within a minute of turning our second corner, Jet, (yes, we have another Jet in the neighborhood, hmph!) the black and white cocker spaniel goes apoplectic behind her fence on the opposite side of the street.  Her human told Mom she’s afraid of big dogs.  Sorry to learn of this, we always hope for an opportunity to meet and break preconceived notions.  I never talk back to Jet even though she boisterously speaks at least two to three houses’ worth.  

We caught Lola and her new schnauzer sister outside too.  They speak in high pitched, rapid fire tones ad infinitum.  The only occasions I have to reply in person occur in Samson’s or Dixie’s yards.  Since they speak German, I told them in raised voice (to get their attention) that I could not understand what they’re saying.   They seemed irritated and intent to get their message across.  We rounded the next two corners back to our house in time to meet Mom’s tight schedule.  

Mom said I reminded her of this guy named Tom Jones! 

Another great day.

Waste Management

Hey, It’s Jet Here. 

When asked, Mom responded that she thinks we know each other well enough to post on this sensitive subject.  In our neighborhood, garbage pickup happens on Mondays and Thursdays.  As a result of Martin Luther King’s birthday, the garbage truck did not visit on Monday.  Boy did our garage get stinky even with the mandatory big green waste bin keeping our sealed inside bags contained.  

On the subject of garbage bags, I have to share.  As previously noted, Mom scoops the poop like a good neighbor.  I’m proud of her for that, really.  She tried a few holders before settling on caribiner connected holders with the option to dispense  both styles of bag designs.  So far, so good.  My only complaint? COLOR.  At first, most bags came in blue, then teal, then, black or grey, then rainbow assortments, pastel assortments, bags with jokes, bags with paw prints, skulls, bones, you get the idea.  Mom tries to purchase assorted color multipacks on sale.  I didn’t mind as long as she installed the manly man colors for me.  I even dealt with the orange and green bags which we could explain away as UMiami Hurricane colors. When Koko went over the Rainbow Bridge, I understood we had to use Koko’s supply of light purple bags.  

Last week, my human sister, Rachel, purchased a gift for JJ; a pink, pocketbook style dispenser with pink bags.  The pocketbook attached with Velcro and fit right in with JJ’s leash and pink color scheme.  Last night, my dispenser ran out of the last roll of purple bags.  Unfortunately, Mom forgot to reload this morning.  When I did my solid business, she scooped with JJ’s PINK bags.  Oh, the embarrassment, pink Mom, PINK!  You couldn’t figure something else out?  

Jetty, Jetty, Jetty.  First of all, you are colorblind!  With that said, Real Men can rock pink in their worlds if they want to.  Most neighbors appreciate that we scoop the poop and do not judge you by your scoop bag color; they like you because of who you are.  When we walk with our pack and someone needs a bag, they always know you will share yours.  Pride in who you are, thoughtfulness and sharing far outweigh the small issue of scoop bag colors, wouldn’t you say my boy?  Wow Mom, never thought of it that way, thanks.  Bring on the fuchsia! 

Another great and colorful day.  

“Paw”dies for Miss Wet Paws

Hey, It’s Jet Here. 

Continuing my Scooby Doo Academy Powers of Observation class has turned up another interesting mystery about JJ; her paws always seem to be wet.  Mom and my human sister, Rachel noticed this fact, too, and began to watch her habits more closely, as did I.  Our sequential theories: 

JJ stepped in “accidents” we did not know about in the house. Not true.  We scoured house, no wet spots found. When JJ does have an occasional accident, she does so in the same location. 

JJ’s paws stay wet abnormally long after walking outside in wet grass. Partially true; we collected evidence and determined that her paws remained wet for the same duration as mine. 

JJ drinks sloppily out of the water dish and then steps in the water on the floor. True; we believe this accounts for part of JJ’s constant “wet paw” condition. 

JJ has a “thing” about cleaning her paws. Ding, ding, ding, – we have a winner!  We carefully made observations and showed each other her frequent attention to her paws.  When she puts her back paws fully in her mouth, one at a time of course, she tends to lose her balance and either roll off the bed or into some humorous position.   

Last night, when we cuddled in bed with Mom to go to sleep, JJ’s paws perfectly aligned with my face.  I decided to give her a treat, a Jetty “Pawticure.”  I cleaned her paws meticulously to save her the trouble.  Mom’s eyes focused on her book, glancing subtly to see my technique yet not disturb the process.  Miss Wiggle Girl actually stayed put for the whole treatment.  When finished, we both fell quietly asleep, which Mom found charming.  

Another great day.  


Hey, It’s Jet Here. 

Generally, we place a high priority on punctuality.  Mom learned from her Dad to arrive fifteen minutes early not fifteen minutes late.  Arriving what’s called, “fashionably late” to a party is this thing called an “exception to the rule.”   When you live in Miami like we do, when attending an event, you must ask whether the start time is “Cuban time” (sometimes referred to as Latin time) or American time.  The interpretation of Cuban time: arrive anywhere from ½ hour to 2 hours late and think nothing about it.  This occurrence takes getting used to.  Mom’s had food get cold and wonder if her party flopped when all of a sudden the doorbell began to chime.  

As part of Scooby Doo Academy’s etiquette classes, I practice punctuality too.  A true gentleman never makes a lady wait.  I continue to wake Mom at LEAST fifteen minutes (usually more like 30-45 minutes) before our breakfast time.  We make sure that we build in extra time for traffic when visiting Dr. Schaffer.  We leave our house with plenty of minutes to spare when meeting our pack.  

Then why have we posted late two days in a row??? I’ll tell you why… THE MACHINE THAT I REST/SLEEP/DICTATE BESIDE.  I know you have read about Mom’s computer issues.  Well, her newsletter took 2 ½ hours longer than usual because of all that technical stuff.  Mom even left the room a few times.  (I think I saw smoke coming out of her ears!)  On top of the computer stuff, Mom has a REALLY long schedule on Tuesdays, so, if she can’t post before work, she can only post about this time of day, after she: walks us, gives us treats, cleans up cat v___t, feeds my human sister, etc…  

Can I tell you something funny?  In her newsletter today, she included a little prayer to vanquish these things called poltergeists/hobgoblins and other mean creatures from her machine.  For her sake, I hope it works.  Thanks Jetty, you have such a kind heart.  Aw, Mom. 

Another great day night.