A New Friend

Ever have one of those days where things rapidly devolve from normal to weird?  Surprisingly, much of my life is that way, but the most recent example happened a few weeks ago (yeah, Sister is that far behind in helping me share my stories with the world)—taking place early one Sunday morning out east. 

The day started as most Sunday mornings do.  Pa and I went outside first thing in the morning to do business and check the perimeters.  Usually, these morning rituals are fairly non eventful.  I mean, most mornings when I go outside I can smell the distinct scent of deer on the air and sometimes I’ve even found bits and pieces of fish strewed about the yard, but, for the most part, the worst I have to actually deal with is an errant squirrel trespassing through my territory. 

This Sunday, however, was different.  As I made my way toward the back corner of the yard, something caught my eye by the fence—something rather flat and oval with short little stubs pointing out in five directions.  Cautiously, I approached the object all the while shooting concerned looks over my shoulder at Pa who was backing me up from a distance too great for my liking. 

“Go ahead,” Pa said reassuringly.  “Check it out.” 

Check it out is a phrase I was taught a long time ago, back when I was concerned about attack garbage cans on my daily walks with Pa (hey, you never know).  Check it out means that whatever is in front of me will probably not kill me so I should walk over to it and give it a sniff. 

I shot Pa another concerned look.  “Really, check it out,” he said. 

Although against my better judgement, I cautiously approached the object and gave it a sniff.  Then I jumped about ten feet straight in the air when it suddenly retracted its head and legs. 

I had, on my paws, a real live box turtle. 

Now you might recall that I’ve had other near run-ins with turtles.  Sister once found a box turtle in the backyard out east, but I didn’t get to sniff him because I didn’t know he was there and she moved him before I did (here's the story of that day).  I also once saw a giant snapping turtle at Old Westbury Gardens, but didn’t get to sniff him either because Sister deemed his snapping mouth way too large to mess with (and here's that story).  But these two events were near misses, I wasn’t expecting to ever actually come face to face with a turtle. 

Anyway, once I got all four paws back on the Earth, I shot Pa a “what the heck?” look. 

“It’s okay.  Check it out,” Pa said again. 

If it weren’t for the fact that Pa and I are buds and I trust him completely, I would have walked away right then and there.  But no, I summoned up all the courage I could muster and gave the turtle a good long sniff… 

…and then I quickly ran off to check out a different part of the yard.  Not long after, the turtle slipped under the neighbor’s fence perhaps to go swimming in their pool. 

About a month later, the turtle and I crossed paths again against the backyard fence.  Having met before, I casually strolled up to it, gave him a “hey, how you doing?” sniff then he and I went our separate ways again.  

He's welcome to pass through my yard any time he likes on his way to the pool.

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.

Wild Kingdom

There is no shortage of strange animals in this world, and I've come to the conclusion that most of them live on the east end of Long Island.  For instance, within the last couple of years I have seen, smelled, and/or barked at deer, giant chickens, bunnies, and goats.

But as strange as those animals are, they do not come close to the weird animal I encountered this past weekend.

It was Saturday morning and Ma and Pa left the house bright and early to attend a town meeting.  This meant that Sister and I were going to have to occupy ourselves for a couple of hours while they were gone.  Now, generally, whenever Sister and I are left alone, we take up our favorite joint hobby:  napping.  We're both really good at it.  I think it stems back to when I was a nasty little puppy and the only way Sister and I could get along for any extended amount of time was if we were both sleeping (fast forward five years and while we get along just fine now, we have both come to appreciate the importance of a good nap).  Anyway, by some weird twist of fate, both Sister and I were bright eyed and bushy tailed that morning (well, I was bushy tailed) and eager to go outside and enjoy the cool morning air (we planned to retreat into the central air conditioned comfort of the house the moment it got too warm).  Sister planned on reading a book while lounging in a lawn chair.  I, on the other paw, planned on preventing Sister from reading by any means necessary (some of my options included digging a hole, barking at figments of my imagination, and stealing Sister's bookmark).

As a special treat, Sister decided that we'd use the basement door to exit the house rather than the side door.  Now, I absolutely love using the side door because it means that I get to run down the flight of stairs linking the deck and backyard at top speed (and then run back up it afterward), but there is something about using the back door (which involves two steps up and directly into the yard) that is even more exciting.  I'm not sure why it's so exciting, but perhaps it's because from day one that exit was referred to as "Rigby's door" (gotta love anything with your name attached to it).

Anyway, Sister and I raced down into the basement and skidded toward the back door.  Lawn chair in hand, Sister threw open the door and three things happened simultaneously:

Turtle Knocking on the Door

1. I jumped over the two steps and dashed into the backyard.
2. A turtle tried scurrying into the house.
3. Sister almost screamed (but managed to close the door before the turtle could crawl in).

Curious as to what was going on, I quickly backtracked, but by the time I got to the door, Sister had already created a barrier between me and the turtle with her lawn chair.  She then jumped over the chair, ran toward the steps leading up to the side door (I chased after her), and into the house.  Half a minute later (though it seemed like much longer from where I stood on the outside of the door--and don't worry, I made sure to voice my displeasure for being left outside as loudly as I could), Sister emerged from the house carrying a cardboard box.  The two of us scurried down the steps and back toward the basement door.  Sister then jumped the barricade, knelt down, picked the turtle up, and deposited him into the cardboard box. 

The Release

I spent a fair part of the next hour hovering around the shady (and fenced in) area where Sister stashed the box and turtle.  Later, after Ma and Pa got the chance to admire the visiting turtle, Sister released him (he was now formally dubbed Mr. Turtle) into the front yard where he scuttled under a hostas plant.