A Farewell to Mecki

To my bff Mecki-

Words will never ever be able to express how much I’ll miss you. 

I’ll miss our walks through the estate, both of us competing to be slightly ahead of the other on the path.

I’ll fondly remember our sleepover where we kept stealing each other’s antlers (even though neither of us really wanted to chew on them), sneaking in to eat your breakfast (sorry…you snooze you lose), blowing out Sister’s eardrums with our barking and whining, and rough-housing in the backyard (even though it resulted in us both getting a bath).

I’ll miss receiving mini-Meck toys smelling of you (for that extra touch of authenticity). 

I’ll think frequently of that time I swatted you with my paw when you were climbing all over me and laughing when your Mom stuck you in a hollowed-out tree trunk for a picture. 

And Sister?  She’ll always remember your over socialized nature, the fact that you ran on belly rubs, that your tail never ever stopped wagging, and all those attack kisses (you really could get some air with those short little back legs). 

There’s so many memories and so many stories and I thank you for all of them (not to mention it was your blog which kick started this one). 

You were the best friend a pup could ever have and you will be so missed. 

Your bff Rigby

 

Christmas Roundup 2023

It’s been nearly a week since Christmas and all I can say is this: “Christmas is a young pup’s game.”

I am exhausted.  Totally and completely exhausted.  I’m so worn out from Christmas festivities (late night snacks and movies on Christmas Eve and presents, company, and limited naps on Christmas Day) that I’ve been walking around like a zombie ever since.  I’m so tired the dark circles under my eyes have dark circles.  I’m so pooped that I completely lost track of what was going on and found myself gnawing on Puddle’s head thinking it was a bone.

Puddles and me.

Puddle's no worse for wear.

But boy oh boy did I have fun on Christmas!  Here’s a quick rundown of some of the festivities:

I shredded wrapping paper.

I annihilated cardboard.

I played, gnawed on, and rested my eyes with all the toys Santa, my family, and Gina (and her pups Baci and Rocky) gave me and sampled all the cookies and treats I got from Santa and Karin (and her pups Mecki and Bastille).

So, like I said, Christmas was great.  My only complaint was that no one “accidentally” dropped a meatball for me at dinner time.

Spring Dog Days at Old Westbury Gardens

Loyal readers of my blog know that there are a handful of specific dates/events that I look forward to each and every year.  There's my birthday of course, Christmas, the day the air conditioner is installed, and Dog Days Weekend at Old Westbury Gardens (AKA "my estate").  Well, my birthday's a month away, Christmas is seven months away, and as much as I huff and puff Ma insists that "it's not that hot" and therefore way too early to put in the air conditioners.  That means that this weekend past had to be Spring Dog Days at Old Westbury Gardens.

On Saturday, the first day of Dog Days, I went with Sister, Karin, and Mecki.  As is tradition, we met at "Rigby's Wall" (the one depicted in my profile picture) and participated in the great cookie exchange. Deciding to be ornery that morning, I refused to eat most of the cookies Karin offered me, choosing to instead roll them around in my mouth (getting them good and slobbery) before spitting them out onto the grass.  And do you know what happened next?  Karin actually picked up each slobbery cookie (unless Mecki got to it first) and put them back in her pocket.  What great fun!

Anyway, after the great cookie exchange (Mecki ate the cookie Sister offered), we made our way into the gardens.  We wandered around the West Pond, perused the Rose Garden, scurried through the Ghost Walk, and explored the East Lake via the Woodland Walk.  On our stroll, we met lots of pups (including numerous Golden Retrievers), sniffed lots of interesting smells, and begged for attention from passersby.

 

 

And then we met something that I can only describe as other-worldly.

Snapping Turtle

Wandering down one of the paths, the four of us ran into a giant snapping turtle who was making his way, rather determinedly, across the property to get from the East Lake to the West Pond.  Sister and Karin took turns checking out the turtle, leaving Mecki and me behind which was fine by me because that turtle was scary looking from a distance and I certainly did not want to get any closer to him.

A couple of hours later, our walk was over, and we returned to the car.  I was exhausted and fell asleep in the backseat before we even left the property.

When I got home, I drank about three gallons of water and stretched out on the kitchen floor in a puddle of drool and drinking water.

 
I snoozed there until dinner time at which point I ate my food, went out for a quick business trip, then settled down on the living room floor for another nap.

I roused briefly to sample the ice cream Sister had for dessert...

...but spent the rest of the evening snoozing on my pillow when I normally would have been barking for a PB&K or at car doors slamming blocks away.  At 10pm, Sister asked if I wanted to go out to do business one last time.  I didn't really want to, but I knew Sister wouldn't leave me alone unless I did so, sore and achy, I got up and dragged my weary bones outside.  When I got back in, I collapsed on my pillow.  It was after witnessing that particular moment of sheer exhaustion that Sister decided to camp downstairs in the living room rather than force me to drag myself upstairs to bed.

Early on Sunday morning (6:30am to be precise), I woke up bright eyed and bushy tailed having slept nearly 17 hours straight.  I was begrudgingly taken outside by Sister for a morning business trip (Sister, as I've said before, is not a morning person) then Sister declared that it was still too early for breakfast and she and I snoozed for another hour or so.  By the way, that's why I like Sister--she's always up for a nap!

Anyway, shortly after we both woke up for the second time, Aunt B came over and she, Sister, and I piled back into the car for a second round of strolling around the estate.  The weather was decidedly unsettled that morning so there wasn't nearly as many people and dogs to meet, but even so, we had an enjoyable walk filled with lots of sniffing and posing for pictures.

Emma Rose and Me:  Oct. 2018

Unfortunately, there was one sad thing that happened on this second excursion:  I learned that my Dog Days Golden Retriever friend Emma Rose had passed away since I last saw her in October.  A highlight of Sunday morning Dog Days was always running into Emma Rose (and her human mom and grandma) and I'm going to miss her a lot.  Sister was very upset about the news, too (I let her give me an extra long hug later in the day).  But, while there will never be another Emma Rose, I did get the opportunity to bunk noses with the newest member of her family:  Alfie, a five-month old mixed breed pup with huge ears and a long curly tail.

While I Was Out

This was an odd month.

It all started three Fridays ago (yeah, Sister's been kind of negligent when it comes to recording my stories...you just can't get good help).  Anyway, three Fridays ago, Sister got up earlier than usual (she's about as much a morning person as I am, so her getting up early is always a surprise) and rather than pack her work bag, she packed her overnight bag, kissed me on the snout, and left the house.

A few hours later, she sent me the following video.

I was confused.  That barking in the background?  It sounded really familiar, but I just couldn't put my paw on it.  Those deer, however, definitely looked familiar (actually, I'm pretty sure I've barked at them before).  And that backyard?  Not only was it familiar, I knew exactly where it was.  It was my backyard out east.

A little later, Sister sent me the following picture and things suddenly started to make sense.

It was my bff Mecki and his little brother Bastille!

But then I started thinking...what are Mecki and Bastille doing in my house out east?

I learned later that Sister and Karin had spent the weekend out east eating Reubens (they didn't bring me a doggy bag), hunting for treasure on the beach with a metal detector (they dug up a quarter without my help), sightseeing (the last time I went to Greenport it was 95 degrees and Pa and I spent an hour looking for a shady tree to sit under), and painting rocks (if you recall, growing up, rocks were "my only friends").  And when they weren't directly included in the fun, Mecki and Bastille lounged in my house and barked at my deer!

Collar Bling

Two days later (and smelling like Mecki and Bastille), Sister came home and brought with her a peace offering for me--some bling for my collar.  Now, I was a bit annoyed that I wasn't invited on the trip, but Sister's gift was just so me that I couldn't be too mad at her for very long.  I mean, look at it!  As my loyal readers know, I so don't get fetch!

Anyway, as the new week began and life got back to normal, I kind of forgot about the previous weekend (except for the occasional fits of laughter that came about whenever Sister described Bastille lunging face first at the glass window and sliding down it cartoon style).  In fact, by the time the following weekend rolled around, my concern and bitterness had disappeared completely.

Which brings me to two Friday nights ago.  After they had returned home from work and finished their dinners, Ma and Pa whisked me into the car and we headed out east.

When I got there, I immediately ran inside the house and hot footed it to my pillow where my toys are usually kept.  But they weren't there.  Ma, thinking quickly, grabbed a squeaky ball left on the table and tossed it onto my pillow.  I lowered my head to grab the toy, but stopped inches from the ball.  My pillow smelled like Mecki.

I looked up quizzically at Ma who was watching me expectantly.  It was then that I realized that there was a wafting smell of Mecki and Bastille bombarding me from all directions.  I sniffed my way around the living room, then into the kitchen and the dining room.  I circled back into the living room (sniffed the bulging eye/nose smudge left on the window by Bastille's leap) then made my way to the guest room and bathroom.  Their scent was all around, yet my four-legged pals were nowhere to be seen.

Ma suggested at this point that we should go outside and check the perimeters, and do you know what?  Mecki and Bastille's scent was all over the backyard too.  I went around sniffing every tree and following every trail.  I sniffed high and low and even circled back a few times to sniff a spot again.  I was so preoccupied with the task of tracking my friends that I didn't even realize that I had wandered out the side gate until I heard Ma screaming my name.  She found me in the neighbor's front yard, hooked a finger under my collar, and escorted me back into my yard.  After a few more sniffs, Ma and I went back inside the house.

Once inside, I followed Pa, who seemed distracted by something, into the basement where I discovered that even that part of the house smell like my bff and his little brother.  I didn't get a great chance to really investigate because after a minute or so Pa hurried up the stairs to report that the heat wasn't working (I didn't notice, but then again, I'm always wearing a coat) and I felt like I needed to be present at the troubleshooting session that would surely follow the news.

An hour later, a knocking came at the door.  I started barking furiously expecting the knocker to be Mecki or Bastille showing up to end this game of hide and go seek.  Well, it wasn't Mecki or Bastille, but instead a repairman who made his way through the living room, then the kitchen, the dining room, and finally down into the basement to fix the burner.

Great, I thought, another trail to follow!

Imortalized in Art

The mom of my BFFs Mecki and Bastille is a talented artist.  I've shown some of her work before, a homemade birthday card or two, but recently, she out did herself.  For Christmas, she gave my Sister four beautiful works of art based on four of my most iconic, cute, silly, and pensive photos.  I mean, check out the baby picture!  She even managed to capture my abnormally long and glamorous eyelashes!  Thanks Karin, you're the best!

           

Fall Dog Days 2018

Surveying My Estate

It's the most wonderful time of the year!  No, not Christmas (though that is a lot of fun with all the food, wrapping paper, and toys).  This last weekend was Dog Days at Old Westbury Gardens (AKA my estate) and while I wasn't able to hang out with my pals Mecki and Bastille (their mom is vacationing in France), I did have an absolutely wonderful time.

The day (Saturday) started as any other day that promised an outing would; basically, I was crazed.  As soon as I realized that I was going somewhere, I started running through the house, pacing back and forth, eager to get going.  I barked loudly when either Ma or Sister slowed us down by doing such pointless things as packing my traveling bag, checking the weather on TV, and putting on shoes (I don't bother with shoes, why should they?) and when my collar was placed around my neck and the side door opened, I bounded out toward the car.  I even huffed, drooled, and paced in the backseat of the car during the twenty-minute ride to the gardens!

Sister and Me

Ma, Sister, and I spent nearly an hour wandering through the gardens that morning.  I stopped to sniff random plants, I posed for pictures, I bunked noses with a couple of pups, and even showed off my prowess by jumping over the cement bench Sister wanted to pose with me on for a photo. I even stopped long enough to sniff the tree that Mecki and Bastille are routinely photographed in (and yes, I did thank my lucky stars that I'm too heavy to be picked up and put in that tree).

Liberty, Me, Baxter, and the Rest

Eventually, Ma, Sister, and I made our way to the great lawn out back behind the house where I was met with a fun surprise:  three Golden Retrievers (two under the age of one and the other eight years old), a big fluffy black dog, a German Shepherd, and their humans.  I was first greeted by the big fluffy black dog who was off leash and made a bee line straight for me.  He was obviously the welcoming committee.  Anyway, the black dog and I bunked noses then the three Golden Retrievers ran over to say hi.  The two young-ins (one was named Liberty) ran straight to Ma and Sister and began begging for pets and belly rubs.  The older Golden, Baxter, walked over to me to say hello.

The final part of the trip was perhaps the best.  I got to see my Old Westbury Gardens pal Emma Rose.  My readers might remember Emma Rose as the Golden Retriever “cousin” I first met all the way back in 2011.  Since then, Emma Rose and I have run into each other, always unscheduled, at every single Dog Days weekend.  My pal is eleven years old now and had had a serious health scare a couple of weeks ago, but I was happy to see that Emma Rose was feeling better and acting like her old self; calm, quiet, and reserved.  Emma Rose and I bunked noses and hit up each other’s humans for pets.  Then our humans came up with a spectacular idea.  We needed a picture together.

Emma Rose and Me

After saying goodbye to Emma Rose, Ma, Sister, and I made our way back to the car and headed home.  I was completely and totally exhausted, but it was so worth it!

He Steals Seashells by the Side Door

Before I begin with my latest tale, allow me to take a moment to thank my bff Mecki, his little brother Bastille, and their mom Karin for all the birthday presents they gave me last week.  I must say, they were some of the most well-thought-out gifts I have ever received.  I got...

Birthday Gifts

From Mecki:  A brand new Mini-Mecki toy

(that he rolled on so that it reminded me of him)

From Bastille:  A box of Milkbone cookies

(because the pup on the box looks just like Bastille)

From their mom:  A bag of bacon and cheese treats

(because we both really love cheese and bacon)

Thanks a million Karin, Mecki, and Bastille!

And now, on to my story.

Besides being devilishly handsome, clever to a fault, and highly talented with the written word, I am also exceedingly mischievous.  I’m always thinking.  Thinking of ways to get in trouble.  Thinking of ways to have fun.  Thinking of ways to gain attention.  I’m quite the pro.

Of course, on occasion I do get the feeling that my family can read my mind and foretell my mischievousness.  How else can one explain all the times Sister has told me “no” to digging on the carpet or under the forsythia bush when I've only just taken a single step in the direction of said corner or plant?  It’s clairvoyance I tells ya!.  

Anyway, even despite the fact that sometimes my mischievousness is thwarted, it never stops me from trying.  Here’s my latest:

Out east, Ma and Pa have two terracotta planters on the porch; one with rosemary growing in it, the other mint.  Now, normally I don’t have much interest in potted plants.  I might sniff them as I go by or watch a bee do its little bee thing, but then I quickly move on to other more interesting subjects. Well, a couple of weeks ago, when I checked out the planters, I discovered that in addition to the plant, the dirt, and the little plastic thingy that says what's been planted in that location (which, by the way is a lot of fun to chew on), Ma and Pa had also added seashells as decorations.  Now, every time I go out onto the porch, I immediately saunter over to the planters and snatch a shell in my mouth.

There are essentially two endings to this mischievousness:  either the shell makes it and can be returned to the planter with only a thick layer of slobber on it, or I crush it into dust.  Which outcome depends entirely on whether the gate connecting the porch and the backyard is open or closed.  When the gate is open, I take my ill-gotten gains and scurry down into the grass where I proudly prance and play keep away from whoever is inevitably chasing me to retrieve the shell.  Rather than give up the shell, I end up grinding it to dust while running to and fro.  When the gate is closed, however, I usually give up the shell fairly quickly (and in one piece) because I have far fewer options when it comes to dodging and skirting whoever is trying to get my stolen prize away from me.

Either way, once I am relieved of the shell (be it through a "give" command or the destruction of the shell itself), I make a bee line back to the planter ready to start pilfering again.

Spring Dog Days 2018

It's been a while since I've been able to partake in the fun and frivolities that is Dog Days at Old Westbury Gardens.  I'm not even one hundred percent certain when I was there last.  I know I didn't go last year.  In the spring I was supposed to meet up with Karin, Joan, and Mecki, but I ended up with an angry belly and not really feeling up to going.  There was another Dog Days event in the fall, but I must have been busy that weekend because I didn't make it there either.  Looking back into my blog's archive, the last time I appear to have gone was back in 2016.  Is that possible?!  Wow, time really flies!  But anyway, no matter when I last went to Dog Days, I went twice last weekend and had the time of my life both days.

The Moment I Found Out

Going into Saturday morning, I had no idea that it was a Dog Days weekend; Sister had managed to keep it a secret from me.  In fact, I only figured out that we were going somewhere about a half hour before we left the house when I witnessed Sister packing Ma's car (because Ma's car is the official "Rigby Road Trip Car" as it is permanently stocked with a seat protector and doggy seat belt system) with cookies, newspapers and bags, leashes, her camera, and multiple bottles of water.  While I watched her pack the car (and occasionally tried, unsuccessfully, to force my way into the front seat), Sister told me where we were going and that my bff Mecki and his mom were going to be there too.

I don't think I need to describe how excited I was.  I think all my loyal readers know me well enough to anticipate my reaction to being told that I was going to go for a car ride, visit with my bff Mecki, and wander through my estate so I won't describe my reaction to you.  Instead, I'll show you a video of what I did for the entire half hour between realizing I was going somewhere and when I actually got in the car.

In the Car

So, after what felt like ten years of barking and carrying on, Sister slipped my collar on over my head, attached my leash, grabbed the car keys, and opened the side door.  A moment later, we were strapped into the car (I rode in the back seat--sadly, Sister did not let me ride shotgun) and driving towards Old Westbury Gardens.

Usually, Mecki and I meet at "Rigby's Wall" which is an outdoor stone wall located right outside the mansion's front door (and where my profile picture was taken years ago).  He usually gets there first and I can hear him howling and carrying on all the way back in the parking lot.  This time, however, we met in the parking lot which meant we could start our pack walk even earlier.

My bff Mecki!

We met tons of dogs on Saturday, Mecki and I, including a half dozen Golden Retrievers of various ages (one was only five months old!) and a pup who looked a lot like Bastille (Bastille stayed home during this adventure because he can be a bit of a handful).  In all, Mecki and I spent almost two and a half hours walking around the lake, up and down the stairs, and through the Rose and Walled Gardens which are usually off limit when it comes to my species (sadly, the Woodland Walk, home of the tree that Mecki and Bastille are always pictured in, was closed due to storm damage).  As is our custom, Mecki and I spent a fair portion of the day vying for pack leader status--scooting in front of each other at every bend of the path.

Surveying My Estate

But then something funny happened.  Mecki, Karin, Sister, and I had made our way to the vendor booths to check out all the bandanas (thankfully, Sister didn't buy me one...she did once and, let's just say, it didn't go over well), dunk our snouts in all the complementary water bowls, and glom pets from anyone who would give them.  Suddenly, a nice lady from behind one of the booths stepped forward and asked Sister if she could give me a sample of one of the home made treats she was selling.  Sister said "Sure," but warned her that I was a bit of a picky eater.

I know, I know, you just did a double take on that sentence.  You might have even heard an old timey record needle scratch.  Yours truly is a "picky eater"?!  Well, in a way, I am, but it's complicated and rather than explain my issue, Sister usually just leaves it at "he's a picky eater."

Smelling the Flowers

Undeterred, the nice lady went back to her booth, picked up a cookie, and handed it to me.  I sniffed it once then turned my head away refusing to take it.  Sister then expanded on her initial statement and explained to the lady that I'm just not a fan of taking food from anyone but my own family. 

And that's where it gets complicated.  You see, I rarely take food from anyone who is not a family member.  I've even been known to spit out carrots (which I love) given to me by Mecki's mom (though I've also been known to root through her bag in search of cookies which I then inhale).  I don't mean it to be impolite or ungrateful when I do this; I guess it's just a little quirk I have.

"Okay," said the nice lady trying desperately to save her sale, "you give it to him then" and she dropped the cookie in Sister's hand.  Sister took a deep breath and placed the cookie in front of my nose.  "Hey Rigs, want a cookie?" she asked though I know what she was really saying was a simple chant of "Please eat the cookie...please eat the cookie."

I tried my best.  Really I did.  I tried to convince myself that the cookie was from the bag of Milkbones Sister had her in her pocket.  I even managed to take the cookie and bite it in half, but that was it.  I ended up spitting it out and sniffing at it suspiciously before walking away while Sister apologized profusely to the nice lady.

Mecki Rollin' In the Grass

Shortly thereafter, I said my goodbyes to Mecki and Karin and climbed back into the car.  While Sister drove, I snoozed in the backseat.  When we got home, I threw myself down on my pillow, fell into a deep sleep, and only got up when it was supper time.

Sunday morning came bright and early the next day--maybe even a bit too early for me who was still recovering from the fun and frivolities of the previous day--but even still, I was up and raring to go when Sister told me that we were going back to my estate.  Into the car I climbed and off we drove, but this time, Sister went the wrong way.  Instead of turning right at the end of the block, she turned left.  Immediately, I became concerned.  Where were we going?

Posing

A minute later, Sister pulled over to the side of the road and the passenger side door opened.  Much to my surprise, my friend Joan climbed into the car.  Now, I haven't seen Joan in a really long time (not since that BBQ at Mecki's house) so I was super excited and by the time we pulled into the Old Westbury Gardens estate, I was pacing back and forth in the back seat with anticipation.

Sleeping in a Pool of Drool

Like Saturday, my estate was packed with dogs and once again, there was a plethora of Golden Retrievers to bunk noses with.  I even got to say hello to my old friend and fellow Golden Retriever Emma Rose and her mom and grandma.

Needless to say, by Sunday evening I was completely and totally exhausted.  Once again, I only woke up long enough to eat meals and I'm not ashamed to say that I was kind of looking forward to my family going back to work the next day because it meant that I would have a good seven hours to really catch up on sleep.  But as tired as I was afterward, I wouldn't have missed Dog Days for the world (and I probably would have still passed on that cookie). 

Outtakes: