Maggie. Hunter. In that order.

This is my Maggie.

Maggie May.  Yes, after Rod's song.  We've had Maggie since 1997 and it was estimated that she was probably 3 years old then (we were her 3rd family).  That makes her about the age of DD#3/#4.  Which makes me nervous.  Maggie's a big girl (yes, takes after her mama LOL) and big girls don't usually make it much into their teen years.  Maggie's never had an enemy (except feline).  The yard man, the weed man, even late night TP'ers are her best friends.  Maggie is deaf, having lost what seems to be the last of her hearing in the last month.  She has cataracts.  She has lumps and bumps that I know aren't normal.  But she is happy, pain-free, stares at me with the most soulful eyes I've ever seen, and still comes running to me when I open my arms.  I tell her she's my favorite girl.  My real girls scoff, but they know she's my favorite furry girl.

This is my Maggie.  I love her.

 

This is Hunter.

"My" does not apply to Hunter.  He is not mine.  He is his own.  We 'inherited' Hunter a few years back and he is now 8.  Hunter has nicknames:  Hunter Bunter (no, we're not good poets), Dumb Dog, and, hubby's personal favorite:  Hunter-I-don't-like-you.  Now if you say any of these to him with a smile on your face, he will smile back and wag his tail in a clockwise circle.  Hunter eats my peaches until he's sick for days on end.  Hunter howls at leaves.  Hunter howls at oxygen.  Hunter wakes us up early on the weekends by barking at hot air balloons.  Hunter spent time in Doggy Jail and lived to tell about it.  Hunter eats sprinkler heads faster than hubby can replace them.  (See above nickname.)  Hunter pees on anything he looks at.  But, in spite of all of his Hunter-I-don't-like-you traits, Hunter tries so hard to please and has the softest face.  Ever.

This is Hunter.  I even love him, too.

Unbelievable.

It all started this evening when I decided it was time to go outside and do some hand watering. The front went successfully, with the exception of finding my yellow mum plant literally covered with tiny cocoons. Hmm. I'll check these out more carefully tomorrow in better light. Yuck - I hate bugs. The back wasn't as successful. Well, the watering went fine, of course, that's a no brainer. But then I decide to venture to the "orchard" (silly name for the area with 4 fruit trees) and, lo and behold, my new peach/plum tree doesn't seem to have the 10 pieces of fruit it had a week ago. Well, THAT is weird, especially since the fruit is as green as can be and won't be ready at least until August. I spotted one small peach but couldn't see any of the plums (pluots, we're actually hoping for) that I saw on my last visit. Now there weren't many, maybe 10 pieces of fruit TOTAL (the tree's only 2 years old), so this isn't going to be a mystery of Twilight Zone proportions. Still, though, I bought this tree when it was a mere stick in a bucket at a garden show in Hanford in 2005. I lugged it home and have watched it grow, anticipating its first crop.

Fast forward 2 minutes when I notice MY DAUGHTER'S STUPID WHITE DOG CHEWING SOMETHING. "HUNTER!!!!" (said in my nicest "I am so mad at you" kind of voice) I distract him with a cookie (yeah, it was a reward, but honestly I thought he was chewing on something that could hurt him) and discover THE FRUIT FROM MY TREE. Shown below (yes, I know I need a manicure), I believe it to be either a plum or a pluot. And I also think it was the last one. Tomorrow I shall investigate fully, again in better light. Maybe there's another piece out there. I did see one lone peach up high. If he gets it, he's in really big trouble.

The good news is that my Meyer lemon tree has about 40 lemons - my mom and sisters will be delighted - they live for their Christmas Meyer lemon shipments! If Hunter touches THOSE, his new address may have the initials "SPCA" in it... (Just kidding...please, animal lovers, don't hunt me down. I love my dogs.)

Meanwhile, I've been freecycling like a crazy lady (wow, that crazy thing pops up a lot!) and it feels so good to get rid of JUNK! Whatever is left on Monday will go to AmVet's and get OUT of here! And I promise that Hunter won't be with the pile. :o)

Be blessed...