The Well-Trained Ear Does Not Go Unfed

Yes, you read it correctly.

At our house the dogs have learned sounds. It's probably true elsewhere but I know only about here. When the fridge opens, they are there. However, other triggers bring them to the center of the space in which I am working. They know when I program the oven something is going to happen. They recognize certain lids being removed. They hear me stirring things up, as I'm known to do.

Today began with making Irish Soda Bread. Ever hopeful, there they were, looking up longingly, "Is this for us?" Afraid not. But what is for them is the batch of Almond Biscotti cookies for dogs that are now in the oven. The recipe sounded good and now they are hardening to make them more appropriate for dogs. Before that though I did taste one - hey! The ingredients were all human appropriate! It was tasty. No sugar, just some honey. No white flour, wheat. Darned near what we should be eating.

It could be they are spoiled.

Cardinals are vying for nesting places. There's a troop of males bickering in the trees just outside of my writing post. Noisy birds flitting about gets a reaction from the dogs. Not that the dogs aren't noisy themselves at times.

This is the time of the year when my mind drifts to the childhood memories. There was always that first warm day when I could run outside without a sweater or jacket and the screen door would slam just as Mom or Grandma was saying "Put on a jacket." or "Don't let the door slam.". I was across the yard by then. It was too late to go back. Then there was heading over to Gary Petersen's house to play a variety of games. That family had a great house for "Ollie Ollie Oxenfree" or whatever the name of the game was. Do you remember it? Tossing a big kickball over the roof of the house. I don't know what the idea of the game was other than the receiving team was to try to catch it. But how would the other side know if you didn't?

Oh, back then we played fair. I hope that is something which returns to our whole society.

Here at Camp Hein we have discovered a new resident. When we had our fireplace re-done there were leftover rocks (fake) which I kept and which are in two stacked boxes at the side of the driveway. The other day as we pulled in we saw a chipmunk dash through the right-sized hole. Apparently it is home to him/her. The entryway is perfect. Other holes allow ventilation. The top floor may be play space. The boxes are waterproof and windproof and warm (I'm guessing on that). We fully expect there will be little chippies one of these days. Sure, they are "bad" near the house, digging and tunneling. But we can't get rid of the moles either and we try. So we'll let this optimistic and proud homeowner establish a presence and we'll all live peacefully and celebrate our discovery and our differences. We'll play fair.