A Three-Dog Night and More

 

Rascal likes to snuggle by my pillow. Not only does it keep me warm, I get dog kisses periodically until she falls asleep.

 

 

With frigid temperatures falling all over the country, the south no exception, and my little spot in Decatur, with the wind chill, in the single digits. According to the weather channel, we are facing forty hours of below freezing (OMG)temperatures. Yikes!

 

I jokingly posted on Facebook yesterday evening that it was a six-dog night at my house, thinking of the phrase, a three-d0g night. Then I began to wonder, just where did that phrase come from? We all say it and know it means how many dogs to ward off the chill.

 

I did a bit of research.

 

The geographic source of the phrase has been debated many times. Is it the Australian outback or the northern reaches of North America with the Eskimos. The meaning is clear, no matter the location. The phrase is a rudimentary nightly temperature gauge. Dogs huddled with humans at night for their warmth. On really cold nights, three dogs were brought to bed to keep the owner from freezing to death.

 

In American Literature:

 

 

 

Available on Amazon

 

Whatever its origins it does turn up in American literature, and most of those included a definition as well as the phrase. A passage from a juvenile novel, Courage at Indian Deep by Jane Resh Thomas, provides a good example. Jane Resh Thomas is the author of more than a dozen fiction and non-fiction books for young readers. This book was published in 1990.

 

A ship sinks during an autumn blizzard on Lake Superior, and Cass and his dog are the only ones who can help the survivors.

 

     “Here, Tongue.” Cass dried the dog and coaxed him under the open sleeping bag. “This is a three-dog night, for sure, but one dog will have to do.”  

     Answering the puzzled look on Torberg’s face, Cass said, “I read that frontiersmen slept with dog because their body temperature is higher than a human’s. A three-dog night was a night so cold it took three dogs to keep a man warm.” 

     “Tongue’s a living electric blanket,” said Torberg smiling.


Another children's book:

 

From Amazon

 

Another children's book piles on more dogs for warmth. The Five-Dog Night, written and illustrated by Eileen Christelow. When Old Betty tries to advise Ezra on how to survive the cold winter nights, Ezra rebuffs her concerns because he has his own private source of warmth. Published in 1993.

 

 

You might say I am living the dream. Covered in dogs. At my house we have a six-dog night most every night!

 

 

Bertha Barth, Miss April in Paris, Bray-boy, Annabelle, Rascal,

and Chloe in her pink sweater.

 

 

 

Miss Sophie Writes - Reposted from Tara Joyner Haussler's blog "I Might Need A Nap"

 

Miss Sophie Ru

 

Note: Miss Sophie lives with Tara Joyner Haussler. This post was previously published on Tara's blog I Might Need A Nap. Tara was one of the authors in the anthology A Cup of Christmas, available on Kindle for $1.99. All proceeds go to First Book, a charity that places books in the hands of children in need.

 

 

A note from the paws of Miss Sophie:
 

     These people, I sure have a hard time figuring them out sometimes. They know my name, and yet, they call me “No” and “Stop it” almost more than they call me Sophie.
 

     It’s not like I picked out that name for myself or anything–they chose it. If I’d had my druthers, I would be called Geraldine. Yeah. I like that name.
 

     Anyway, yesterday they said, “Bed,” and I went and they gave me my treat on command. I’ve got them trained well. When I sit in my bed, I wait, and they give me a treat. It’s a pretty sweet deal actually. They left for a few hours and when they came home, I could hardly believe my eyes.
 

    And I have pretty good vision.
 

    The people brought a tree in the house. You know, one of those things that lives outside that I like to sniff around and eat things out from under. In. the. house. Well! I mean, these are the same folks who take their shoes off in the house and flip out if I go anywhere near the mud puddles way back in the yard behind our house.
 

    I don’t get it.
 

    It immediately started shedding, something I can proudly say I do not do. It was pretty disgusting. The Fella promptly vacuumed it up. I actually chose not to bark while he was vacuuming this time, and the people didn’t notice or anything. Really? Fine. Next time then…
 

    After all of the hullabaloo about getting this tree in the house, I watched as the Fella brought in a big box of things on the ends of green wire. (I like green wire. I like wire. Twist ties are my favorite, but they never let me play with one for long.) They spent much time discussing these things and untangling them. It was torture. They did all of this beside the tree which they put in the room I’m not allowed in. Honestly, you mistake a rug for a piddle pad once or three times too many…
 

     After things were untwisted, the people talked some more.  The one they all call Mama, the one who sits up with me late at night, kept saying the letters, “LED” over and over and wrinkling up her nose like she does when she tells me my toy is “nasty.” (It’s not, it’s delicious.) I don’t think she cares for whatever that LED thing is. The Fella took several of those strand thingies outside and the littles went with him. Then the one they call Mama twisted the rest of the wire thingies all around that tree.
 

    Can you imagine what that’s even about?
 

    When she was done, she stood back and then flipped a switch.
 

    Wow.
 

    They’ve been doing some pretty crazy things around here, like putting some lights in different places and putting these red and green things all over the place, but this was amazing.
 

    It was all lit up, that tree, only there was no fire like what the one they call Mama turns on in the living room at night. These were all sparkly and warm and I wanted to crawl right under that tree, drink from that big water bowl, and gaze up at the twinkly lights. And look for treats…
 

     Tonight they went through a box, each one of them, and they hung things on the tree. It’s the strangest thing I’ve ever seen. And they won’t let me anywhere near it. I can’t imagine why.
 

They keep me away from everything fun–the trash can, the mud puddles, and now this–this tree.
 

     I just don’t get it.
 

     But tonight I’m thankful my people are back home and that it looks like we’re going to bed a little earlier tonight.  I’m thankful for the food in my bowl and the water in my dish, but I still think that tree offers a lovely new eating venue.
 

     Most of all, I’m thankful for the happy faces and the singing of songs that keeps happening around here. It seems like they are more relaxed these days. And happy, relaxed people make for a happy Sophie.
 

     Love and barks to all. Sophie

 

 

 

 

That tree -  INSIDE the house with lights all over it! Have you ever heard of such?

 

A note from Tara: As I was stringing the lights on the tree this morning, I saw Miss Sophie watching intently from the other side of the gate. I wondered what she thought of all of the goings on, and she was more than happy to share. Tonight I’m thankful for that. And for a word my Daddy taught me long, long ago. Anthropomorphism. I love that word. Love to all.  

 

 

 

Tara Joyner Haussler

 

 

 

Visit Tara's : I Might Need A Nap Mama Said They Made Me Nicer

Throughout the adventures of my life, when I would get stressed or yes, let’s be honest, whiney, Mama would call me out. “You need a nap. Get some sleep. Things will look different after you get some rest.”

 

 

Amie Flanagan and Vincent, the One Eared Dog

                                                             Vincent Van Gogh

Mom said she got him seconds before he was to be euthanized. Apparently, saving this older German Shepherd was a massive group effort for many different organizations. However, we did it. I had yet to meet the dog and I wondered how I would like him. The shelter had named the dog Vincent. I wanted him named something else.   

The dog approached me shyly when I got home and I petted him. I’m not really a dog person, but he had the kindest brown eyes. The real miracle occurred when my dad got home. We waited for him to hit the roof. My dad petted the dog and went to sit down. The dog went and sat down next to dad. 

Later that night Vincent had to go to the bathroom. He didn’t know to come and get either my dad or I. Instead, he just took a dump in the living room. The smell was so horrendous it woke me up from a dead sleep. I sat up and knew my dad would tell me the dog would have to go back.  

I took the dog outside and put him in the old dog pen that is about five feet high, grabbed a shovel, and cleaned up the dog’s mess. I realized the poor thing had hookworm. Afterwards I went back and was almost halfway asleep when I heard him.  

“Woof.”

 

I stood up and went to the backdoor where Vincent now waited to go inside. I was in awe that he cleared a five-foot fence. I let him in and Vincent found my parents bedroom. He curled up at the foot of my dad’s bed.  

 

While he was in the shelter, Vincent had developed a horrible ear infection. Dad made the decision to have the ear amputated. Mom started to call him Vincent Van Gogh.

 

Over the next few years the dog had proven to become my dad's best friend. He would follow my dad everywhere. We thought the dog might’ve belonged to an older person or may have been a retired service dog. Vincent didn’t like fireworks, and God forbid if he didn’t like somebody. Vincent was a gentle and unusual dog in the sense that he had a calm personality. He was always afraid we would leave him behind, but we never did.


About Amie Flanagan:

Amie

 

  Amie Flanagan attends Savannah College of Art and Design, where she’s in the process of obtaining a M.A. in Cinema Studies and a M.F.A. in Writing. She is a contributing editor to the blog Curvy Moi  and her website Keys To The Page is dedicated to writers. Amie attended Kennesaw State University where she earned her B.S. in Communication with a focus in Journalism. She interned at the Juvenile Justice Information Exchange with the Center for Sustainable Journalism at Kennesaw State University and at EUE/Screen Gems Studio in Atlanta, Georgia. She has interviewed many authors, actors, musicians, screenwriters, and politicians while at Kennesaw State Universities Owl Radio (click here to see list) . Amie loves to read. Here’s a list of her favorite books. She also loves to write.  Check out her portfolio.


About Keys To The Page:

Visit web

 

 KeysTo The Page is a website that helps encourage writers to be the best they can be. Exercises and Examples help writers form their craft. There are also quick references on the page for writers, screenwriters, and playwrights. This page also posts news, and interesting things that will be sure to help the budding author and contains basic facts, recommended reading, basic reviews, interviews, and special event coverage to help create a strong mastery of the art of writing.

 

 

 

And then there are the cats . . .

 

 

 Amie and Skippy

 

We won't say how many . . .  but here's a hint, let's count from 1 to 7.

Links:

Keys To The Page Web

FaceBook

Twitter   @amieflanagan

Pinterest

Google+

 

Amie and Charlie

Elizabeth Cassidy, Writer and Artist, and Miz Ruby

A conversation with Elizabeth and Miz Ruby – one paints and writes and the other pants and begs for cat treats. Dog Hair all over everything means never having to say you are sorry. You hear that, Ruby?

Hello, my name is Elizabeth Cassidy, writer and artist, and this is Miz Ruby, a 109 lb. yellow lab of love. I hope she doesn’t find out that I am telling the world that she gained 7 lbs. since her last vet visit. I know she would never do that to me because her typing skills are not what they used to be. Plus, she does not have a mean bone in that body of hers.

Ruby believes that she is the mother of my cats. She can be quite maternal with them  - cleaning them and knocking them over with her huge tongue. They really enjoy that. Not.  I dream about her with a scooper in her paw cleaning out the litter boxes. But, that is why you keep humans around you. Isn’t that right, Ruby? Don’t look at me like you don’t know what I am talking about and stop blaming the cats for the big hole in the leather sofa.  That is why they make chenille throws. Another secret exposed.

 

Ruby and Freckles

 

Ruby came into our lives 10 years ago. She was two years old and living in the garage of a woman who had too many people and animals living in her house. Her name was Misty, but I quickly changed it to Miz Ruby. Our petite pup never barked until she was living with us for about six months. Scared the hell out of all of us. Seems that nasty woman had a collar on her that shocked her when she did bark.

 

She has a good hearty bark. Sounds scary although once you break into my house, Ruby will show you where the jewelry and cash are. Just give her half a bag of cat treats and she will just roll over while showing where I keep my good shoes.

 

I think I just hurt her feelings. Bad me. Here is that big rawhide treat that I have been saving for a special occasion. Please do your best to not choke on it. I know the cats told you that I like to put my whole hand down your throat to retrieve the wayward piece, but alas, they lie.

 

I know I am hogging the conversation, so I would like Ruby to answer a few questions. And for God’s sake, stop licking yourself. You’d never catch me doing that….when other people are at home.

 

 

Ruby, how is it being a dog living in the 21^st Century? 

 

Woof, woof, woo woo, WOOF!!! 

 

So are you saying you like living here? Stop yawning and I just love the cat poop breath on you. You will eat just about anything except for grapes and olives.  Would you like to comment on that?  

 

Yes, you do have big teeth but they are in proportion to your body. So that is a “no” as to why olives and grapes are not on your list of things to steal from the fridge. I just hope you enjoyed the whole chicken from last week.  By the way, grapes and olives were used for the base for the gravy. Makes you want to rethink the next midnight trip to the fridge, eh?

 

So what is your favorite thing about taking a walk?

 

I hear you. What walk? It is more like a stroll in slow motion. Yes, it does give you time to see which friends have visited what trees and what their moms gave them for dinner.  What, are you writing a book? Don’t give me that look.

 

I just glanced over and there Ruby is, lying on her left side and dreaming. I swear, if I spent as much time as she and the cats do snoring and running in their sleep , we would be living under a bush with a dead rat to share amongst ourselves.  Veganism is sounding so good right about now.

 

 

Ruby and Mickey Picassa

 

So that is my dog, Miz Ruby. I can’t believe that we got such a loving animal to live with us. She is really a joy to be around. She teaches me more than I could ever teach her. Although I did get her to understand the sit command. She just chooses to ignore it. So in the end, we work really well together.  But she is not getting the keys to the car. Ever.

What The Human Does:

 

Become who you truly are. Just get really quiet and wait to hear yourself say, “It is time to create what my soul feels.” Create your own masterpieces.

Three years ago, I rediscovered my artistic side. I was co-facilitating a women’s workshop in Manhattan when I met a photographer who was talking about wanting to draw for 30 days. My arm went up into the air (I was hoping it was just a spasm) and I said I would draw with her. It had been years since I picked up a brush or a pen. We all know the story – my life got in the way of me doing what I am supposed to be doing. I could take a little time each day to create.

My first week of painting was a disaster. I started to grieve for the artist that I had neglected. But then a remarkable thing happened. I just told myself to paint whatever I wanted to paint – no restrictions. And little by little my inner artist decided to make another appearance and we have been living happily in the same body ever since that day. Right?

I create art because I feel I have no choice but to paint what I feel. It is a very emotional experience for me to put myself on paper, whether it is words or art, because if I don’t get my art and words out – then who will? I like to think of this as the best job I never got hired for. And the good news is that I can’t fire myself. I tried once.

I love painting in pastels, dabbling with ink and colored pencils, and I favor the abstract world since the rents are cheaper there. I create my portraits by using my non-dominant hand and I just discovered Touch Drawing.

The Queen Is Not Amused



I was in the advertising and publishing field for over 20 years in NYC. I am now a humorist, artist, certified creativity coach for artists and writers, a Reiki Advanced Practitioner, and a faculty member of the Art League of Long Island, where I am currently teaching workshops on Touch Drawing. I am a member of Art (that Matters) an artist collective in Huntington. For two years, I have been one-half of The Film Fatales - a couple of opinionated women who review movies - and we have just gone international. Who knew?

Links:

Artist/Writer in Residence at Elizabeth Cassidy Art

Film Fatales Blog

Face Book

Twitter  @EdgyCoach

Contact Elizabeth

 

Writer Jodi Webb and Daisy

Jodi and Daisy

Living outside of town, there is plenty of space between houses (and neighbors). As a result, I got along fabulously with all my neighbors – all except Daisy. Daisy was noisy, constantly creating dirt and always up to something that the rest of the neighborhood didn’t appreciate. So if you had told me five years ago that Daisy would be coming to live with me I would have told you that you were crazy!

Daisy of course is a dog. A lumbering, howling, drooling, rolling in the dirt, running away and swimming in the pond kind of dog. Not the kind of dog that would fit in my tiny house already jam-packed with five people. Nevertheless, here she is.

It started out as a “just for the weekend” visit when my elderly neighbor suddenly found himself in the hospital. Who says no to an 80 year old sweetheart who is lying in hospital bed worried about his best buddy? It was a bit longer than a weekend but eventually our neighbor came home and Daisy went home. But, being too exuberant for him to handle, back she came, settling back into the spot behind the recliner where she hides from thunder, fireworks and other loud bangs. And that is how I became foster mama to a black furball.

Daisy has settled down considerably since she first walked through my door. She now only runs away about six or seven times a year, usually for only an hour or so (long enough to take a dip in the pond and come home soaked and smelling of fish). She only jumps on the furniture or ravages the throw rugs during thunderstorms if she’s in the house alone. Otherwise, she seeks out a friend to comfort her.

Daisy has also discovered the magic of the computer. If you lay your head on the knee of someone when they are working at the computer, sooner or later writer’s block, or the need to read things aloud, will still the typing hands and you stand a pretty good chance of getting some petting. She has listened to countless readings of my drafts and loves everything I write (it may be the pats and treats she loves but I prefer to think it's the writing). Daisy even knows to just sit there patiently when I try to use her as a canine thesaurus, "Daisy, you know what word I mean...playful, wild, jumping, romping, ex-something...exuberant! That's it." Not once has she called me crazy.  She even has a cameo in my WIP where she spends her days in a railroad station dividing her time between sleeping and eating treats -- pretty much what her real life is.

 

 

Here's my crazy Daisy. Maybe we should rename her Daffodil? Actually she's sniffing out the baby rabbits. But their home is just far enough away that her leash doesn't reach. But that doesn't stop her from digging up my flowers trying to get to them. Whenever she starts digging I do that totally ineffective "WHAT did you do?" and she looks at me -- tail wagging-- with that "I was trying to get the rabbits. Didn't I do a good job?"

 

About Jodi:

 

 

Available On Amazon

 

Jodi M. Webb lives in Pottsville, Pennsylvania with her husband and three children. She has written hundreds of articles for publications such as The History Magazine, Pennsylvania Magazine, Reader’s Digest, and Christian Science Monitor. She has also contributed to anthologies on baseball, gardening, pop culture, married life and the military. Pennsylvania Trivia (Blue Bike Books), a book she co-authored, was released in September 2008. One of her essays was recorded for This I Believe on NPR.

 

Jodi is a WOW! Women On Writing blog tour organizer and is always looking for her next WOW author – no matter who their audience is. Contact her at Jodi@wow-womenonwriting.com  for information. 

In her spare time, she works on her first novel—the story of a group of women on the homefront during World War II.

 

Visit The Muffin (Wow! Women On Writing's blog) today and read Jodi's interview on finding your audience.

 

 

 

Interested in learning more about WOW! Women On Writing? Visit their website and sign up for their free newsletter!

 

Links: 

 

 Jodi's Website

 

Contact Jodi

 

Pennsylvania Trivia on Amazon 

 

"Who Is Your Audience" Post On The Muffin

 

The Muffin

 

WOW! Women On Writing

 

WOW! Facebook Page