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I think mom is going to bake something again today; she just turned on the oven. I sure hope I like it. Hey, I’m sure I will.

I am lying right here on the floor watching everything she does. She tells me it is going to be something called a pineapple upside cake. Only if it’s upside down, how is she going to bake it? More to the point, how is anyone going to eat it? That doesn’t make any sense to me; maybe it does to you.

If I am real good, mom is going to let me lick the bowl when she’s through. Right away, I’ll be able to tell if I am going to like it or not. When I think about it, there has never been anything mom has given me that I didn’t like. She knows everything I like, but there are things I eat that she doesn’t. Milk bones are one thing I really like, but mom says they are just for us furry ones; that’s why she doesn’t eat any. I would share with her like she shares with me if she would just let me. I’ve tried before, but she tells me “Baby girl, this is just for you.” She loves me.

Thursday morning mom went out to get the empty garbage can (the garbage truckman comes by and empties it on Wednesday; she would have retrieved it on Wednesday afternoon, but it was real icy and slick outside), and it was not there. She looked everywhere, but it was not anywhere.

Mom asked everyone if they had seen it, and everyone said they hadn’t seen it. So, this morning, mom called the office to see what could have happened to it. The lady on the phone said that when the garbageman picked up the can that he accidentally dropped it inside the truck. He said he couldn’t get it out, so he took it back to the disposal area in his truck.

The lady also told mom that a new one would be delivered on Saturday morning, and not to worry about it. Personally, I don’t think mom was worried.

My lips were smacking as mom made cookies.

I stayed right with her through every move she made. I went to the pantry with her while she got all the ingredients to make chocolate chip cookies. They sure did smell good while she was mixing up everything, and I know they will smell better while they are cooking. I was real good; I didn’t beg, bark, try to grap a chip, or anything like that. I didn’t even get in her way when she went to the oven. I watched her as she dropped the dough on the long pan, and licked her fingers when she dropped the last one on there. When she took them out of the oven, I was drooling. Mom must have seen how badly I wanted one, because she blew on a cookie to cool it off, and then she gave it to me.

I know I will get some more cookies when she takes dad some after his dinner tonight. I can wait, but it won’t be easy.

It was sleeting last night, and the temperature got down to 11 degrees. We all had to outside about three o’clock this morning. When dad let us out, there was a lake of water in one of our flower beds. He didn’t know it at the time, but somehow the water faucet outside got turned on and flooded the flower bed. I guess right after we went back to bed, Paul got up to let Kasha out, and he saw the bed of water, too.

He had his shoes on, but they got totally wet and frozen when he stepped into the water to get to the faucet to turn it off. He told dad and mom about what he did, and dad wanted to know how the faucet got turned on in the first place. It’s a mystery–no one knew how it happened. Paul said it was me, but I don’t have thumbs so it couldn’t have been me. Maybe he was just teasing.

At any rate, when all of us came in, we were all shivering–even Wooly. No one wanted to stir. I snuggled right up to mom and went back to sleep; I don’t know what the rest of them did.

Boy, is it ever cold today. I went outside early this morning and almost froze before I could come back in. I wanted to come in sooner, but mom said no. Mom said the temperature was 21 degrees. I’m not sure what that means, but I do know it is cold.

Hilde didn’t want to go at all, but mom made her. Wooly wouldn’t go period; he wouldn’t even come close to the door. When mom opened the door, the wind came blowing in and Wooly made a dash for the TV room. After that, he wouldn’t budge. He’s got lots of hair so I don’t know why he wouldn’t go outside. Hilde and I don’t have very much at all, and we went. He’ll have to go sometime today; mom will force him out. Finally, though, he went down to the computer room with dad; it’s really warm down there.

Of course, I stayed up here with mom. I think she’s going to bake something because she turned the oven on; I hope so. I guess I’ll find out sooner or later. Right now, it looks like mom is going to take a nap, so I guess I will too.

Two more were caught this morning. They must been from different families, because they were fighting over the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup. They were squealing and trying to bite each other; you should have seen how immature and hostile they were to each other.

The reason I think they were fighting was because they were different from each other. I’m sure how they were different, but they must have been. One was light brown and a little on the skinny side, and the other one was a darker brown and a little on plump side (if you know what I mean).

At any rate, it seems sort of silly to fight over a single piece of food when there were plenty of pieces to go around; but no, they had to fight over this single one. They were making so much noise that mom had Paul take them outside about ten o’clock tonight. He told mom that when he let them go, they started fighting each other on the ground. He left the candy with them. I personally don’t think they should have been rewarded for fighting; I know we’re not.

I wonder where these little creatures come from. They are furry like me, they run fast like me (not quite as fast, though), they are quiet like me (most of the time), and they like Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups like me.

That’s how mom catches them, you know. She gets a peanut butter cup, breaks in half, and then puts the pieces into a live-trap cage. This cage doesn’t hurt them; it just catches them. Mom checks the cage every morning, and if there’s a mouse in there, she calls Paul (another son), and he takes it down by the creek to let it go. He makes sure to leave the candy with the mouse so he won’t get too hungry.

This morning there was a chubby little mouse in the trap. Mom turned on the kitchen light, and he started squeaking like you wouldn’t believe; it was awful. I can imagine how he felt about being in a place where he couldn’t get out; it must be very disconcerting to say the least. But, I believe he shouldn’t be in our house anyway. I’m sure he has a home somewhere with his family, and he probably got in our house by mistake.

Mom says that living in the country is like asking other creatures to come see who we are. I can believe that. I know I would like to go next door and chase that goat if someone would open one of our gates and let me out.

He ate most of my dinner. Can you believe it?

Mom fixed Pedigree Turkey and Bacon tonight for dinner, and she also put some real turkey in it. I’ve told you before that mom always fixes rice to go with our dinner. The others like their dinner mixed in with the rice–yuk! When I eat my dinner, I eat my dinner; when I eat my rice, I eat my rice. Besides, mom fixes my rice with some milk in it. It tastes so much better that way.

I got to eat my regular dinner like always, but I was saving my rice and milk for dessert (mom quit giving me donuts and cookies because of the d-i-e-t! I can’t even bring myself to say that evil word). Anway, I left it on the floor by mom’s computer chair quile she fixed dad’s dinner. I, of course, was in the kitchen with mom in case she needed me for something. I went in to check on my dessert, and it was gone.

I immediately went to tell mom, but from the look on my face she already knew something was wrong. She checked my bowl and, sure enough, it was empty. I guess I looked pretty sad. She apologized for Wooly, but it didn’t help. I went into the living room where dad was watching television. I stood there for a while and looked up at him. He asked mom was wrong with me, and she told him. He looked down at me, and I just climbed up into his lap. He petted me, stroked me, scratched my ears, and told me that Wooly was just being mean to me. He commiserated with for a few more minutes and said that mom would fix whatever was wrong.

She did. She gave me two chocolate chip cookies. Maybe if I leave my rice down tomorrow night, Wooly will eat it again.

Yesterday, when mom came home, dad asked her what the doctor said to her.

Mom told dad that the doctor changed some of her medication, and said if she did not feel better in one week to let her know. Mom also told dad that her blood pressure was 126/70; which is pretty high for mom. Her blood pressure is usually around 100/60, so mom was kinda worried that it was that high. Dad said not to worry because that was normal, but mom has her doubts. She talked to me about what the doctor said, too.

Dr. Robinson said mom was highly agitated because of the change in medication and that’s why mom is taking a different one. Dr. Robinson said the medication mom was taking was treating only depression which mom doesn’t have; she has anxiety. The other medicine the doctor changed was the one for acid reflux; the generic kind was only aggravating the situation–not helping. So mom told me she was through with generic medications because they apparently didn’t work as well as the original. I don’t mom think told dad all of the above probably she because she didn’t want to worry him. On a good note, however, mom only slept about 12 hours today instead of the usual 16. I was getting worried that mom just didn’t want to be around any of us anymore, and that was scary.

But, now that I know that was not the case, I am reassured as I am sure dad is. Tonight maybe I won’t have to sleep as close to mom as I have been doing.

Mom kept telling me she had to go to the doctor, but I thought I would go with her; she needs me for moral support. But, she didn’t take me, and it broke my little heart.

I get so upset when she goes off and leaves me at home; I cry a lot–and you can ask dad if you don’t believe me. I bet you think dogs don’t cry, but you’d be wrong, because we do; you just can’t see the tears. Mom knows this, and tries to comfort me by saying she won’t be very long and promises to think of me all the time she’s gone. I have news for her–it doesn’t comfort me. I watch her as she kisses me bye and closes the door. I run and take up my position by the window so I can see her when she comes down the driveway. You know, I can’t sleep when mom’s not here, and I don’t know exactly why. This probably explains why I go to sleep almost immediately when she comes home. I say almost because I have to show her how much I miss her when she’s not here. I jump, nip at her purse, and run around like I’ve lost my mind. I even bite Hilde and Wooly sometimes I get so excited to see mom.

After I’ve settled down, mom will pet me, love on me, kiss me, and talk to me saying things like “I told you I’d be back.” (Sounds like Arnold, huh?) I will finally be satisfied she’s not going to leave again when she changes clothes and takes off her going-to-town shoes. Then, and only then, will I go to sleep.