My Friend Lola

Lola

As many of you know, I like to re-write lyrics to songs sometimes.  I worked with Mom on this one because we all know what a crazy Barry Manilow fan she is.

My friend Lola crossed over to Rainbow Bridge last week.  I’m very sad that she is gone and that I won’t get to play with her on the beach again, but I’m pretty sure she’s getting to have fun at Rainbow Bridge, even if we can’t see her.

-Moz

In any event, to the tune to “Copacabana,” here’s my tribute to my friend Lola:

Her name was Lola, she was a farm dog

A new family came out to see and said, “You come home with me!”

She hiked in Tahoe and welcomed house guests

And she would never venture far

Even with the door ajar

And at the ocean shore, where others would adore

She was loved and she had great parents

Who could ask for more?

In the Pocket, in Sacramento

Where dog fur was just a memento

In the Pocket, in Sacramento

Collars and leashes and walks where she pleases

In the Pocket, she was well-loved

{Pocket, in Sacramento}

 

Her name was Shanna, she was a dog mom

With Rodger Stein right by her side, they took Lola for car rides

And to the ocean, they went each spring time

 

Where leashes weren’t attached to necks; you could sun out on the deck

Sometimes her friends came too, and there was lots to do

There was sand a lot of long walks

But just who walked who?

In the Pocket, in Sacramento

Where dog fur was just a memento

In the Pocket, in Sacramento

Collars and leashes and walks where she pleases

In the Pocket, she was well-loved

{Pocket, in Sacramento; Pocket, in Sacramento; in Sacramento; Pocket, in Sacramento, With chances to roam…

Pocket, a dog home– collars and leashes and walks where she pleases}

 

Her name was Lola, she was a farm dog

But that was many years before, long before she was adored

Then she was pampered, just as it should be

She liked to wander in the woods

Coming back just like she should

She loved the mountain air, she hated leaving there

She loved her friends and she loved her family

No one can compare

In the Pocket, in Sacramento

Where dog fur was just a memento

In the Pocket, in Sacramento

Collars and leashes and walks where she pleases

In the Pocket, she was well-loved

She was well-loved,

She was well-loved.

Pocket, in Sacramento….

 

 

Blanketed with Love

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Atlas:   I really like my new blanket.

Mozzie:  Do you mean the blanket Mom just finished?

Atlas:  Yes.

Rico:  That’s not *your* blanket.  It’s our blanket.

Atlas:  I think it should be mine since I had to give up LOTS of petting while she was working on it.

Mozzie:  It only took her a week, and she still petted you.

Atlas:  But not enough.

Rico:  It’s never enough for you, pet hoarder!

Atlas:  Besides that, I think she said it was for me.

Mozzie:  No, it’s not for you.  It’s BECAUSE of you.

Rico:  That’s right.  And there is a difference.

Atlas:  I know Mom said something about me being the reason she was making the blanket.

Mozzie:  She was tired of finding your yak fur on her pillow every night.

Atlas:  She likes my fur.

Rico:  Not on her pillow.

Mozzie:  Now we have a place that’s super nice to sleep without Mom inhaling fur when she’s doing that meditation thing before she sleeps.

Atlas:  One of those things says to imagine you are in your favorite place.  I’m pretty sure that would be petting me.  The fur on her pillow is the next best thing.

Mozzie:  No, that’s *your* favorite place.

Atlas:  It’s okay.  I’ll let you guys share my blanket.

Can’t Touch That

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Atlas:  Mozzie, did you like those nice people we saw on Friday?

Mozzie:  You mean the people at the vet’s office?

Atlas:  Oh, is that why that one woman had a name tag that said Dr. Gelderman?

Mozzie:  Yes.

Atlas:  I liked her a lot.  She was great.

Mozzie:  She tried to look in my ears!  Who does that?

Atlas:  I’m not sure if she looked in my ears, but did you see that she pet me?

Mozzie:  You let her look in your ears and listen to your breathing.

Atlas:  She was petting me!

Mozzie:  You have no shame.  You even rolled on your back and let her look at your belly.

Atlas:  I was pretty sure she wanted to give me a belly rub.

Mozzie:  She was looking for fleas.

Atlas:  She didn’t find any on either of us.

Mozzie:  She said you were the hairiest dog she’d ever seen.  She couldn’t even find skin.

Atlas:  Neither could the fleas.  Or ticks.

Mozzie:  You have to be careful.  Sometimes those people try to stick you with needles.

Atlas:  That sounds kind of mean.

Mozzie:  That’s what I’m trying to tell you.  You cannot trust those people.  They pretend to be nice, and then they stick you with needles when you aren’t looking.  Sometimes they even take your blood.

Atlas:  Oh no!  They seemed so nice.

Mozzie:  That’s how they suck you in.  Cookies and petting, then needles and blood letting.

Atlas:  Just out of curiosity, how many cookies and how much petting do I get before that other stuff happens?

Mozzie:  You were warned.  It’s been nice knowing you.