Stella's Second Favorite Day of the Year

Second only her favorite day of the year - Halloween - the Annual Garage Sale Day is Stella's most wonderful day of the year.

Every first Saturday in June, the neighborhood holds a gigantic garage sale extravaganza. We're talking anywhere from 120 to 150 families participating throughout a 10 or so block area complete with food booths, coffee stands, Krispy Kreme vendors, and the ever infamous Bucks scattered around here and there.

And people, er I mean, BUYERS, are everywhere. It's a blast. We practically ran out of "inventory" by 10:00am and the doors opened at 9:00am. (Last year I scavenged through the house to find extra stuff, which we sold as fast as it was priced and on the table. Then I ran down to one of the non-participating friends a couple of doors down to plead for more inventory. And as fast as that was priced and hit the table, it was all sold. We're talking BUYERS.)

Stella loves to lay out on the front yard as the millions of people pass by.

"Oh my gawd, look at that dog!"

"Ahhhhh . . . "

"What a beautiful English Sheepdog!"

"What kind of dog is that?"

"She is so soft!"

"Is the dog for sale?"

"Can we pet her?"

"Boy, I bet you have to brush her every day."

"I LOVE your dog."

"Is it okay to pet your dog?"

Stella loves every minute of it. She must have been stroked 2 million times. From time to time, she wandered back into the garage for a little snooze.

She even got a job offer.

"Would you be willing to have Stella be a part of our group FETCH? We take friendly dogs around to children who've suffered a trauma or tragedy and they are so comforted."

"Sure, I said." I, her lowly agent . . . .

We'll Miss You, Maggie

MAGNOLIA MURRAY-WEISS

Ball Player

Explorer

Crumb Wrangler

Cousin Numero Uno

Rest in peace Maggie. I'm going to miss you like crazy. Love always and forever, Stella.

PS: You even let me sleep in your bed.

The Front Yard - Sooooooo Much More Fun

For example, says Stella, if I play my cards right I can slowly move from near the front step out to the boulevard where I can see so much further down the street. And guard. Of course, guard.

And here's the other thing - Axel, the cat, gets to go out in the front yard whenever he dang well pleases. What am I? Chopped liver? What's up with that? I thought I had some seniority around here.

Ah Stella, Stella, Stella. Life is good. We're nearing the one-year anniversary since your surgeries. One month and a few days to go. Keep that heart light burning bright, okay?

Let's go out for a walk.

Another Day, Another Trip to the Beach

Stella hates riding in the car. Well, I should say that riding in the car doesn't agree with her stomach. But when she starts to smell that sea air, she moans from the back seat that it's ALL worth it.

The best part about being at the beach is the cool air and walking through the neighborhood where 17,000 dogs have been just before we got there. Stella has tons to smell and our walks are slow and deliberate because of it. No aerobic walking for us!

But first we have to go take a look at the ocean. It was a great day, no crowds, and the people who were on the beach were friendly, friendly, friendly.

Although Stella loves the beach, it always takes her a day or two to recover from the change in routine, the extra warmth in the house (grandma and grandpa like it toasty), and then that twisty-turny ride back home. I was concerned this time, though, that it was more than that. I thought I saw her little heart light flicker, but the next day, she was back to her old self . . . galloping through the neighborhood, glad to have gone, glad to be back.

A Report to the Vet

"Hi Devon, Kim mother of Stella here calling with Stella's biweekly status report."

After having made the decision to ride it out with regard to the appearance of spots on Stella's lungs during the last check-up up in Corvallis, Devon, Stella's regular vet (outstanding by the way), asked me to keep her updated on Stella's health. So every couple of weeks I give her a call and let her know how things are going. Yesterday the message was this:

"She's eating like a horse."

"She's peeping and pooping right on schedule."

"She's sleeping like a rock through the night."

"She insists on a walk every single day, oh about 9:00ish."

So off we go with the leash and poop bags in search of the best smells and shady spots in the neighborhood.