The sun and friends

While people in other parts of the country are wearing thin under the burden of winter, I am basking in the sun. Mr. Food Boy opened the curtains in the spare bedroom over the weekend. 

I can't see out the window, because I am too short. Mom won't let me jump up on the bed in here, so I can't see the birds, deer and cats wandering around our backyard. 

I can stretch out in the sunlight. Yesterday it was cool. Inside, I was warm and toasty in the sun. Mauly was right next to me most of the day. Her big, orange, "cat-like paws" were about an inch from my little furry gray ones. 

Mr. Food Boy heard the "cat-like paw" description on the Animal Planet. Now, he says it to Mauly. 

The family tried to go out for a walk yesterday, but a chocolate, Lab puppy stopped us at the four-way stop. I yelped and squealed so much that the man at the house on the corner came out of his front door. The dog appeared to be friendly, but Mom didn't take a chance. She picked me up, which really set me off. 

I barked all the way home at the dog as it circled around the family. It didn't bother us after Mr. Food Boy smacked its nose with Mauly's leash.  We all thought the Lab was going to get it when it approached the fabulous barking duo of Vegas and Jesse. Initially, they barked. The Lab was smart enough to realize that the pair were on wireless fences. 

Within a minute, the trio was in a triangle sniffing one another. All tails were wagging vigorously in the air.  In the end, the Lab simply wanted someone to play with while he was out wandering the big world. All the barking was just a smokescreen, they were all very friendly. 

Awful news, good news

There was supposed to be awful news today, but I didn't really watch the news. I heard Mom muttering about the headlines with the tens of thousands of jobs cut from a variety of companies. She said more than 71,400 were cut in one day.

The market was expected to drop at the news, but instead it barely stayed positive. Mom seems happy by small gains. The big losses make her a bit crazy.

I've learned a lot about the market over the last few months. Mom thinks I'm asleep on her lap as she munches on a snack and catches the latest news from Ali Velshi and the gang at CNN.

I knew we were in a recession before the "experts" said it. The daily sell offs. The daily "fears of a recession." The daily insanity as people worried and fretted about what the market would do next. I never understood why they just didn't say it. Mom didn't either. She yelled at the TV, "Say it is a recession already. Please." It took months for the "experts" to call it a recession.

I don't stay focused on Mom's rants for long. I move from her lap to my lookout atop the back of the loveseat. I gain height here. I can see all the birds that stop in our front yard. I can bark at them. I can howl when the stray neighborhood cats waltz into our domain.

Mauly-Bones, who is my dog stepsister, sits below me on her ottoman. She barks with me, especially when the cats walk by the window. She doesn't like them either. We call her Mauly, for short. She is almost seven times bigger than I am. I weigh a fierce eight pounds. I bark like a big dog.

The news may distract Mom, but Mauly and I remain vigilant at the window. Any chance of "awful" news ends around 5 p.m. when Mr. Food Boy arrives home from work. We bark and jump to greet him. Mom protests the noise, but she never calms us down until she lets us out. There we run down the concrete walkway to greet Mr. Food Boy. It's a great day.