Good-Bye, Little Things!

The Friday Post

cranesIt’s my last day here. Today at noon, Duncan loads into his transport and the dogs load into their travel crates, and off we go to the new place, where I camp out until tomorrow. Somewhere during the course of Saturday, the movers will arrive with Everything Else.

During the past couple of weeks, I’ve been taking note of the neat things around here that I’ll miss when this happens.  Just the little things, you know…the things you might miss if you weren’t looking.

Like the seasonal incursion of the Sandhill Cranes as they’re drawn to the Rio Grande, and their distinctive ratcheting-cooing noise…

The interesting collection of canal-oriented birds–several firsts for my lifelist, like the black phoebe, and the wondrous flock of nighthawks that spent an evening swooping and diving over our backyard trees…

The trees themselves–actual deciduous trees!–although these elms are dubiously distinctive more for the way they drop branches on your head than the way they drop their leaves…

Or the huge bull snake prowling the canal that lines this property.

It’s been interesting living next to the sheep, too.  Duncan Horse and the ram have spent  no little amount of time giving each other the studlier-than-thou eye through the fence, and occasionally flipping each other off.

Well.  Soon enough, I’ll be learning all these little things about the new place, too.  I’ve already been dive-bombed by a Cooper’s hawk…how cool is that?  And I love the way I can look out the living room windows and see the pinons in the wash dancing in the gusts, while the house feels perfectly snug and cozy.  So good-bye, little things.  And hello, little things!

Bet you have you some of those, too…bet everyone does.  Sometimes you just have to stop to look…

Come Monday, I may or may not be blogging; I may or may not be coherent if I do.  So I leave you with this image, which is what you get when you take an already oppressed broken Beagle, remove the vetrap and pain patch on one back pastern, and discover beneath that the skin was  clipper burned and then inflamed by the patch, and that it must Not Be Licked.  And so you add a BiteNot collar.

No, indeed…he is NOT SPEAKING TO ME.

Mad Connery

Crate Countdown: Thirteen Days!

About Doranna

My books are SF/F, mystery, paranormal romance, and romantic suspense. My dogs are Beagles, my home is the Southwest, and the horse wants a cookie!
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14 Responses to Good-Bye, Little Things!

  1. Kristine says:

    Awwww…poor Beagle Boy. He looks as though he’s been told to Sit In The Corner Until He Behaves.

    I hope the move goes as smoothly as possible.

    • Doranna says:


      He looks remarkably woeful, doesn’t he? He did that all day, even after I took the collar off. Because it had BEEN ON.

  2. Heather says:

    I can just hear an “Oh Woe is Me” howl. Poor Beagle Boy. Good luck on the move, but don’t overdo it and hurt yourself!

    • Doranna says:


      Why yes, I’m sure you do hear that howl from there… It starts with a yodel and breaks loose every now and then in a rather big way…

  3. Ross Ashley says:

    Poop. Poor puppy.

    Here’s hoping all the Bad stuff has now happened … like eating a toad first thing or hitting yourself with a hammer, the rest of the day can only get better, ne?

    • Doranna says:


      Eating a toad first thing! Yeah, that’ll make the rest of the day look brighter, all right! LOL!

  4. Good luck with your move. Oh, that poor pitiful dog. Pets are so good at wordlessly telling us exactly what they think.

    • Doranna says:


      He is all of woe.

      But he’s learning. His crate manners are getting better. And he’s realized he’d just better wait for help when it comes to getting into his second-story crate off the new laminate, which is slicker than the previous tile…that’s most excellent, as he wasn’t supposed to be doing that jumping in the first place–!

  5. Adrianne says:

    Poor BeagleBoy! I hope he can be trusted without the bite collar soon.

    I love your little things. I have one here. I like squirrels, but this year there were so many that they ate every one of my crabapples before they were pea sized. So I don’t want to feed the squirrels. Instead I put up squirrel proof bird feeders. Behold the mushroom feeder and the locking tube feeder hanging from under my deck skirt. Enterprising Squirrel has arrived. He’s upside down hanging from the deck skirt like an oversized inch worm. He really wants the peanuts in the mushroom feeder. ::shove, shove:: The feeder swings, but it’s anchored to stay put in 140mph wind (an actual wind speed measured here). Enterprising has no chance of knocking it loose. He moves on to the tube feeder. ::stretch, stretch, slip:: ::scurry:: Enterprising is upside down on the deck skirt again. You can see by the look on his face that he’s cussing. He’s not to be deterred, however. He climbs onto the umbrella, cautiously holding onto the eye hook with one foot. ::slip, scurry:: Nope. That didn’t work either. Maybe he can jump from the tube to the mushroom? This requires slipping down the pole, finding a tenuous grip on the purposefully slick top, and making a leap of faith. Nope. Enterprising can’t get enough feet under him to make that leap. He huffs off. Doubtless I’ll have many more hours of watching ahead.

    Good luck with the move!

  6. Tori Lennox says:

    Poor Connery. Give him some scritches for me, okay?

    • Doranna says:


      Scritches applied!

      It’s amazing how much I miss cuddling him. I’m used to swooping him up into a Beagle Bundle for mid-air handling of any configuration…he trusts me for that. But that’s not going to work for us for a while…

  7. Lorraine says:

    That’s definitely one pissed-off dog.

    • Doranna says:


      He was Not Happy with me.

      Boy, am I lucky he doesn’t truly know how to hold a grudge. Belle’s brother…now that dog holds an amazing grudge! And oh, the looks!

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