Jumpin'Jahosephats or...

...don't EVER say to the Jewel, or anyone, "I don't have any material."  A few hours after my prolific statement, the little rascals were at it again.

The Jewel and I were about five hours into a photo shoot yesterday. The weather has been nice so I let Mr. Zaz into the garden.  I must say, he's been a peach lately and ilili has been the trouble maker. I didn't check on him for at least an hour. Actually, I was totally immersed in my work. Then it dawned on me to glance out the den windows. Well, no Zazoo. Ok, sometimes he's hidden. I went to another window, then another.

Boots came off, slippers on and I told the Jewel to "man the engines," which means to start the car and I ran through the garden just to be sure he wasn't hiding. I wasn't in panic mode yet as I called his name. There wasn't a breach in the fence. WTF? I looked up and saw an exhausted Zazoo, with his head down and tongue drooping low in the neighbors yard. Son of a bitch.

I told Al to kill the engines and we jumped over the brick wall with a bottle of water, a plastic container to quench his thirst and treats in case I had to bribe him. Poor Zazoo came right to us and lapped up copious amounts of water as I pulled twigs, rose bush branches and Larchmont tree pods out out of his dense fur.

Poor Zazoo must have sprinted over the wall in pursue of his dinner but didn't dine. His beard was clean and he was exhausted. He obviously didn't find the breakout point to exit their property and the front gates were locked. Hah, hah, hah, Mr. Smarty!  And my good fortune so I didn't have to drive through the posh streets calling for him.

Just like it was planned, the wild goose chaser drove through the gate. I explained why we were there so he wouldn't call 5-0. I saddled up Joseph, Sweet Lucile's nickname for Zazoo. I wanted to name him Al Joharah, which means jewel of the Nile, but in the current world climate and the fact that I usually live in predominately Jewish neighbourhoods, she calls him Jo. Yelling out an Arabic name will simply bring more attention to my wacky family that I definitely don't want or need.

So we marched through their property past the pool and overlook to Long Island Sound and marched through the Day School to slip through the gate that will give us entrance to our road instead of marching through the whole 28 acres. It was really nice to be on both huge properties. I secretly promised Zaz that we will live on a piece of land like this someday.

Well, poor Zazoo was exhausted so I let him rest at least a half hour after his drink before I fed him and marched him. The chances for a bloat attack are greatly diminished following this rule. I was exhausted too, but we went out for dinner.

Sal's Pizza, Mamaroneck Ave. Mamaroneck. NY.

Zazoo barked incessantly as I turned the key upon our return. I shouted over him, "it's Mommy, Zazoo," but he wouldn't pipe down. I also heard a soft scratch at the door. He only does that when he wants to come in. Strange. As I pushed the door open slowly, I saw a little golden ball who tried to squirm out. Son of a bitch! How the heck did she get out of her cage?

I immediately went into panic mode. I didn't puppy-proof the house but I did pick up after myself even though I couldn't see straight. I pushed wiggle bunny back into her home and assessed the damage. One pair of rubber thongs chewed...that's it. She piddled on the wee-wee pads that I left for Zazoo and one pile of poopie, not on the paper. God or Mother Nature or the ghosts of my Nanas sure watched over me!

What a day! The photo shoot was fun and productive and the drama, all in all, quite minimal. Best case scenario for a little rascal "drive Mommy crazy day." Now there's a fastener clip on her door.  Did she jiggle the door open or did Zazoo?  I'll never know.

Revised body count or...

...is this getting ridiculous or what?

This week has been either a "good catch" week for Zazzy, or pretty horrible for the wild animal community in Orienta.  Since the last body count, he caught a greyish-brown bird on Monday and another skunk on Tuesday. Photo above.  This one only cost ten bucks to the Mexicans who were working on the big house next door to shovel said skunk into a black plastic bag. So, I guess I'm ahead of the game...for now.

Baby ilili..

...or if I didn't have my hands full enough!

Like I don't have enough to keep me busy, I have the Gaul to bring another Afghan into the fold. Her name is Ilili, which is Lebanese for "tell me," which she does. She is quite vocal, almost silly at times and probably thinks the way she communicated with her furry mama is the way to communicate with me. she's such a sweetie. She's about 12 weeks now and she's gained two pounds since her last vet visit with Dr. Vierra two weeks ago. Her legs are incredibly long already and she loves to chase Zazoo around because he has no time for her playfulness. She doesn't understand that. She thinks it's his way of playing. So now the craziness starts. It doesn't stop until I put her into her cave/ crate, where shell sleep quietly and peacefully for awhile. Thank God! Ilili loves to play, especially in the garden, where she found fallen pods from the rain-deprived trees quite fascinating. As she scampers about, inevitably, she gets caught up in her lead and rolls around like a bear cub as she makes little growling, frustrated noises. I have to keep a lead on her so I can catch her when she tries to slip under the gate or wants to chase Zazoo when he's stalking his next meal.

She knows how to use wee wee pads and will potie when I bring her out after a meal or a drink. She's a clean girl, as most Afghans are, as I've discovered through the years.

She knows her name and to come when I say it. I hope she continues this as the breed can be terribly aloof and ignore when they don't have an interest. She loves to meet people. Such a lovely little creature and puts a smile on my face...most of the time.

Looking for a new home for my growing family or...

...will the wildlife survive my wild ones?

So, it's that time of year again and the winds of change will be blowing in soon. That means it's time for this September baby to be moving on. Ended with preposition. Oh well. Anyway, I searched the net for a new home for us. I found a few possibilities in the North Country, Upper Westchester, that is, but the Black Hawk's driver would like to have us close to her.  It's a mom thing, I gather.

So we pulled up in the Black Hawk to see a small property in the 'hood that was way too small and the ancient owner way too controlling about where I could sit or not sit in her bloody garden. Mama gave me the "ixnay" look, so I thanked the old witch politely and we took off back to Skibo Cottage. As we were about to turn into my lane, I asked Mama Lucy to steer the Black Hawk into a long, gated drive with huge evergreens and shade trees everywhere. She balked, but I pushed. She did finally.

It's on two manicured acres.  She's huge; a three story, turn of the century Dutch colonial set back from the road, down a long driveway and adjacent to the day schools' woods which are opposite Skibo Cottage. There is a huge three story barn in the back that I wanted to see.  As we approached, we saw a good sized deer with antlers next to the wishing well in the side yard.  We thought it was a cheesy statue until it moved.  Sweet baby Jesus!  There are more critters in this 'hood than when I was in Upper, Upper.

Local legend and yentahs said the owners were dead and the house just sat. I walked up the creaky old stairs to the main house while sweet Lucy waited patiently. It was old and dark, even on this sunny day.  Just like an old scary movie.  Good thing Lucy was in the Black Hawk with the motor running.  I was scared; but a good scared. Excited, actually.

Perhaps the caretaker was around. Of course no one answered the bell but it gave me time to look through the windows. Leaded glass; just like my entry hall and door. That's how I dated the house. This house had several sets of French doors that opened to the stoop, if that's the right word. Some of these were leaded glass with colored glass as well. Wow we woo hoo!

The front hall looked huge and the staircase and sunshine came through the stained glass with a family crest. I also saw two sets of pocket doors leading off the hall.

Good enough for me.

So I walked down the stairs and gestured to Lucy that I was headed to the back to investigate the barn. I couldn't see much except for the teenage deer who watched me from the overgrown garden. As I returned to the Black Hawk, I saw a little Jeep had pulled up. Mama talked to this lovely old Italian man who had a landscape company name on the side of the vehicle.  We will know more soon.

In the meantime, sweet Lucy said she couldn't stop thinking about this grand old girl so I called the landscaper to arrange for us to view it.  Who knows?  It could be our next "tent".

Will keep you updated.