Tag: schnoodles

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March 23: 4:44-5:15 p.m. Checking Out Campers

checking out campers

our three Schnoodles have their say

each wants his own way

We sold our 2022 Extreme Outdoors Little Guy Max Rough Rider camper on March 2nd to a couple from Nashville, Tennessee after two years of enjoying the most exciting adventures in it. We knew we wanted to replace it with something slightly bigger but still small enough to get into state park campgrounds. I didn’t cry, but I have had a hole in my heart since we watched it drive away.

We like being able to take jaunts on weekends and spend time away from the demands of work and home. Our 3 schnoodles stay ready to go, too. They’re campground dogs, through and through. Each asked us to look at one particular kind of camper that they say they’ve had their eye on after chatting it up with the other dogs in our favorite campgrounds, so we dedicated a part of yesterday afternoon to starting the search.

Fitz likes Airstreams. He’s a classic dog with an old soul, very traditional, and he likes the Flying Cloud, the Globetrotter, the International, and of course the Classic models. He’s not picky – – he just wants one with those wraparound windows so he can sit up there with his sunglasses on and watch the girl dogs trot by with their blingy pink collars. He’s a lofty dreamer, to tell the truth.

Boo Radley is more technologically progressive and likes the InTech Aucta Willow Rover model with its aluminum chassis, all-composite woodless materials, and wind-sensor automatic awning. He’s a little more particular about what he likes and doesn’t like, and he’s got his eye on the openness of this camper so he can stay all up in everybody’s business the way he always does.

Ollie is a far more futuristic dog and likes the InTech Aucta Sycamore Rover model with a longer body so he’ll have plenty of room to chase his ball around inside. He likes the spacious seating area so we can all pile up onto one couch and watch movies and eat all his favorite snacks.

We located an Aucta Willow Rover about an hour from our home, so we made the drive over to Southland RV in LaGrange, Georgia during my slice of blogging time to take a look at Boo Radley’s camper pick. (He especially likes it because it is all light gray and white so he can blend right in). We were impressed with the comfort of the seating around the table – and the amount of light and number of windows.

The storage space looks minimal, but that’s how we roll. We don’t take a lot of extras or all the bells and whistles. Two of each type of cutlery, two plates and mugs, a toaster and coffee maker and only small sizes of the things we need suit us fine. Years into this journey, we’ve learned that less is SO MUCH more.

The table turns to allow ease of getting into the U-shaped dinette, which is nice, but we weren’t impressed with the lack of counter space for our coffee maker and toaster. We’ve become modification dabblers too, though, and there are surprising ways of making things work in small spaces that at first might not appear that they could.

For now, though, we continue to compare and shop and look and research.

And dream, along with Fitz, Boo Radley, and Ollie.

Boo Radley lobbies for toast in the Little Guy Max
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March 4: 6:36-7:07 A Schnoodle Mom’s Morning Gratitude

they know how I am

about my babies, my three

boys I’ve rescued through

the years, and that’s why

I thank the good Lord this morning

not only for my children and grandchildren

and husband and all my

people blessings

but these schnoodles, too

because when I enter the vet’s

office they all greet me

by name and gather around to talk to my

sweet Fitz (not just “patient 7101”)

~they know my Fitzie well~

and pet him in my arms

before scooping him up for his

CUPS Disease treatment

(another cleaning and more extractions)

and it’s why, precisely why, when I picked

him up yesterday the technician came out

cradling a groggy Fitz

and handed me a little bag with

six tiny teeth, bloody, on a bandage,

smiled apologetically and

whispered, I knew you would want these,

then my heart skipped a beat and I almost cried

because yes, yes, yes,

I am that dog mom

…….and it shows

Fitz’s Christmas Picture 2024
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Boo Radley (Boo Badly)

We live in the middle of a forest. These massive pine trees surround our home on all sides and shelter us deep in the woods, basically cut off from any form of civilization. We have to get dressed and venture into society to see other living, breathing human souls. What used to be a fully operating cattle farm has been, little by little over the years, turned from cow pasture to pine tree farm – which is why, when I tell my work friends that I must go home and walk the dogs sometimes at lunch, I am met with blank stares. They don’t understand that when I say I live on the Johnson Funny Farm, this basically translates to the Johnson Wayward Wildlife Jungle.

We never know what we’re going to see, and we can’t take risks that our pack of house Schnoodles won’t go chasing anything that moves. Two of the three must be on leashes at all times.

Except Boo Radley~

his dad gives him a leash pass

(doesn’t see the need)

He saw it last night, for the second time in two weeks.

I’d just gone to bed and gotten settled to try to figure out Wordle at the end of a long day that included a two-hour extension to help with registration at our high school when I heard my husband frantically yelling Boo’s name. I sprang up, careful not to slip down on the wood floors after just putting the magnesium cream on my feet to help me sleep better, making it to the closet to get my slippers. I knew instinctively this would require entry into the thicket.

Sure enough, Boo Radley had taken off and was marking territory at the bottom of a pine tree, where once again he’d treed a coon. This happened for the first time less than two weeks ago, but here we were again, another (or maybe the same) frightened raccoon staring down into the high beam of our flashlight, wondering what kind of dogs we are raising in this house.

He gets proud of himself and tries to sport the Alpha Dog swagger after a thing like this, but it’s all lies. He is not the alpha anymore, and he knows it deep inside. He’s just obnoxious.

Take this morning, for example. I’m generally the first one up, and so I take the boys out around 5:00. They usually go right off the edge of the walkway and do their morning business, and it takes less than two minutes………until Boo decides to go over by the gardenia bush and gets wrapped around the birdbath and pulls it over, completely full, right at my feet. I was grateful it was not the block of ice it was two weeks ago.

Still, I laugh at the comedy of it all. We’ve often wondered why Boo was abandoned, needing rescue in his younger years. He isn’t an easy dog by any means…….but we love him, and if it weren’t for him and his brothers and all the wayward wildlife critters who wander up and want to be a part of life here, we wouldn’t be able to call it the Johnson Funny Farm.

You gotta be a little sideways to end up here.

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When Boo Radley Treed A Coon

Each night, we take the boys out right before bed – our three rescue Schnoodles, ready to do their business and settle in for the night. We shine a high-beam flashlight into the woods to see if there is anything out there that looks menacing before we venture out too far – – living deep in these woods of rural Georgia, we never know what could be lurking in the dark at any distance from the door. Two of our dogs must be on a leash, but the third dog begs his daddy for mercy and gets it every time: freedom from restraint.

And that is how Boo Radley (a Schnoodle – – not a coonhound) treed a raccoon week before last.

We heard a sudden scuttle around the corner, and Boo took off like a shooting star straight to the source of the sound. I caught my breath, certain that his time had come. The dog knows no fear. All we heard was claws on pine bark, so we knew something had scurried up into a tree. My first thought was a bobcat – – we see them from time to time, and one had just crossed the road in front of me as I’d driven home a couple of weeks ago. We shone the light up into the trees, searching for whatever it was this time. He’s chased it all – – foxes, stray dogs, feral cats, squirrels, possums, deer, chickens, donkeys, and even a wayward herd of cattle, bull included. This time, a mischievous little raccoon face was staring down at us from the crook of a tree limb, as curious about us as we were about him.

So here we are, with yet another critter that wants to hang out with us here on the east side of the Johnson Funny Farm. We’ve named him Ringo Starr for the rings around his eyes and the shooting star dog that gives chase to anything that moves in these parts. And since it’s coyote mating season on top of everything else, Boo Radley has lost all mercy of being off the leash for night walks.

our Schoodle Boo Radley treed a coon

in the deep, dark night at the edge

of the deeper, darker woods

where we never know what

all lurks by the eyes

shining in the

flashlight beam

back at

us

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He Who Must Be Announced

on days I come home for lunch to let

the schnoodles out, two rush the door

tails wagging, sniffing my shoes to check

for signs of where I’ve been for what

must seem like weeks to them in dog time

but one stays on the bed, ears perked,

staring me down in this regular routine

tail wagging, regarding me as a mere

servant of minimal importance who has

just strolled upon his highness by chance,

awaiting his expectation of me:

he likes to be announced

and so I throw my hands up high

overhead, Hallelujah-church-style,

tilt my head back in a trumpet call

shake my palms like tambourines

and in a voice of frenzied excitement

to an imaginary kingdom of commoners

peering up at us on the castle balcony

from outside the gated grounds below

as if I’ve just noticed him sitting there

with his self-soothing chew turtle I proclaim:

oh, look! it’s my Fitzie! Fitzie, come on!

(and he knows the difference between

my on pronounced like own and his

dad’s on pronounced like ahn

and he prefers mine said my certain way)

then down the little foam bed stairs

he regally trots to go outside to

gently lift a leg, this mighty

miniature aging soul dog of mine,

whose leg the rescue managed

to save primarily because of his

spirited will to live and rule, this royal brat

who forgets he was once a

stray on the streets looking for

love, this canine son of ours who

knows he found a throne

among his people

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Sunday Morning Donuts Nonet

they like their mini donut breakfasts

it’s what happens on Sundays here

pre First-Baptist-of-You-Tube

sitting at their dad’s feet

waiting on a bite

patient Schnoodles

best-behavied

time of

all

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A Saga in Six Days of Life When You Live on a Farm: Featuring Boo Radley and the Unexpected, Day 6

All that matters to Boo in this world is his family (who speak his love language ~ food and attention)

Day 6

our Boo Radley

did a most

surprising thing ~

our Boo

forced a threatening

brown bull to retreat

to turn tail

and

take to the woods

or was that his intention?

was he a charger of bulls

or was he a shepherd

of cows?

was he herding them

back in their farm direction

because he knew they

were lost, drifters one

farm south of theirs,

needing a nudge?

this is, after all

the Funny Farm,

where you have

to be a little

sideways to end

up here in the

land of the

unexpected

where wrinkles in

perceptions become

realities like this:

Boo Radley is a

shepherding schnoodle

of lost herds, the

meanest bulls not

excluded, because

he knows how it feels

to be lost, looking

for home, aggressively

persuading them not

to give up a good thing

all this brings back

the day we were

on the beach

late afternoon

on a cloudy day

sipping wine

on a blanket

when two women

much further into

their bottle

walked by us too close

to our beach campout

according to Boo

Boo corrected

them

~not politely~

and in their swagger,

in their smirks,

their chuckles,

one taunted back:

oh, what a little badass!

fast forward

the years

to today and I

want to go back

to that moment

and say

yes ma’am,

he certainly is!

he fulfilled the

prophesy at the bottom

of your

wine bottle

you saw the future

of our little rescue

Schnoodle named

Boo Radley~

a champion badass

herder of bulls

you weren’t bullshitting

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Stafford Challenge Day 10 – Valentine Schnoodles Elfchen Poem

Many thanks to my friend and fellow writer Margaret Gibson Simon from Louisiana for introducing the elfchen poem, written in five lines where the first line has one word, the second two, the third three, the fourth four, and the fifth one. Our 3 rescue Schnoodles went for grooming this week and smiled for the camera (well, for the treats dangling in front of the camera) on our front porch. 

From left: Fitz, Ollie, and Boo Radley

Valentine

Schnoodles, groomed

heart neckerchiefs knotted

three sweeties smile (for

treaties)

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The Conference Getaway

When I bring out my small suitcase I use for overnight conferences, my dogs all know I’m leaving. They know I’m going to shower them with love and treats after I load the car, but that’s not what’s important to them at the moment.

Boo Radley takes to the laundry room and sulks on his blanket by the window. (Later, my husband will text me with a photo of him staring down the driveway for my electric blue RAV-4, holding out hope I’ll be back before nightfall – – and he won’t come in until he’s picked up and brought inside). Ollie flattens out on the floor, chin to the ground and legs splayed parallel on both sides like an unstuffed animal in random places that make no sense.

But Fitz, my soul dog, gets clingy like a toddler suffering from severe separation anxiety. This baby actually whines, as if trying to convince me not to go.

“You’re leaving. I don’t want you to leave. Don’t go. Stay home.”

On these mornings when I settle in to try to write before I leave town, Fitz won’t stand for it. He gets between the computer and me and refuses to budge. This morning, he came clear over the coffee table between our chairs and wedged his way in between my keyboard and me.

I have to stop what I am doing to make time for my sweet boy, and remember that while he is a big part of my world, I’m his entire world. I have to reassure him again and again and again and again and again that I will be back. With yet another treat.

I look into his searching eyes that are begging me to change my mind. I tussle his ears and plant a kiss between his eyes.

“I’ve got to go out and earn a living, your Highness,” I remind him, “to take care of you three spoiled rotten Schnoodles who have become accustomed to all your treat expectations.”

This doesn’t humor him at all. It’s a very sad day here, and Fitz would like everyone to take a moment today to feel sorry for him. He’d like everyone reading this to please spend extra time with your dogs today, to give them treats and plenty of love, and to tell them that there are actual dogs out there whose people leave them for a day or two, and it’s just not right.