Day 30: Arf, arf, woof, woof, guau, guau #SOLSC #SOL2021

After yesterday’s hacked slice by Clyde, I have at home a very sad blind dachshund. Not even one person visited his post, zero comments or likes. Not even Steven, so nobody is even (probably understandable since Clyde left a mix review of him). Still, I thought that this is not fair.

For this reason the title of this slice is just Clyde whining, barking and crying in all the languages he knows. What upsets him the most is that Buck received raving comments on his slices.

Clyde is thinking, thinking, like Winnie the Pooh. He might hire somebody that can alter the algorithms of my blog. He thinks Poncho could be a great choice.

Poncho can charm y’all to go back one day and read slice #29.

Day 15. My fairy tale nightmare (Part 2. The fairy tale) ·SOL2020 #SOLC

Again, four legged guest blogger, Buck, is with you today with the second part of  the narration of his fairy-tale.

serious Buck

Dear readers, it has been seven month since my last entry. My apologies. I guess when you are in fairyland you don´t have time for thinking or writing. Also, it´s taking me a while to sink in my thoughts, which are small and brief, contrary to winter in Central Oregon.

Now that Pia and I are in confinement, besides my regular naps, I have more time to write. Also it snowed today and it´s below 0ºC. An andaluz like me shall never go out in this weather (unless Pia forces me. I am getting into the bad habit of peeing too often inside the house when it´s too cold; she is getting into the habit of watching me fiercely until I pee outside).

I left my tale when I was crossing the Atlantic Ocean in a humongous vacuum cleaner, and was on the verge of dying of thirst and anxiety. After 10  hours of incessant noise, somebody grabbed my 20 by 20 inches cage, and dropped me in front of Pia’s feet, my savior. At this point though,  I didn’t know whether she was on my side or not. At least, she cut the plastic zip cable ties that were locking my kennel. In less that a minute I was peeing outside of what I learned later, it was Portland International Airport. I thought I was free for good, when Pia put me back in the kennel. It was the Groundhog day movie all over. This time everybody knew of my existence, and the vacuum cleaner sound lasted only for an hour. It stopped suddenly. I heard a man telling Pia that they were not waiting since they were having a fire drill. They dropped me like an ordinary suitcase and asked us to leave the airport as soon as possible. I was happy to be on a leash. It was around 5 am Spain time, and 8 pm the day before in Redmond, Oregon. The air was warm and breezy. It felt good. I was whining and shaking beyond my comprehension. I didn’t know what we were doing, so didn’t Pia. I heard her whining also because she couldn’t find a taxi and didn’t have a phone to get an Uber. When we entered again in the airport building for help, the fire alarm started to sound. It was insane. I never heard of such a thing. I was missing Clyde, Steve, the donkey next door. Everybody spoke in English. Good thing I was raised bilingual.

Finally, a taxi showed up and Pia rushed in to it. We drove for about 40 minutes. The driver was Mexican. Never heard from that country before. When we got out and the car left, it was dark. I heard some growling, and nothing else. Pia looked for a set of keys and open the door of an empty house.No couch, no cushions, no beds. Just an inflatable mattress of dubious quality. I was so hungry, and so, so thirsty. Pia turned the flashlight of her Spanish phone and started walking outside. The ground was soft, but there were many rocks, bushes, and trees that smell really, really interesting. I paddle along Pia, very close to her heels. We finally arrived to a shed. I heard Pia cursed in English and Spanish. We entered in the empty house again. Pia called Steve. They argued. Pia told him: No Steve, I am not going to go with an ax and destroyed the lock of the water house. Somebody locked it, and I don’t have water. But it is dark like a wolf’s  mouth. I am with Buck following me like a little lamb, and there are actually wolves bawling, and it’s 10 pm. I am really tired. I think I will go to bed and deal with the water issue tomorrow. 

Sure enough. In five minutes, Pia inflated the bed and snuggle with me.  It was cold. I shivered and cry the entire night. We woke up really early, or late, depending of the time we followed. I looked at Pia, asking her when we were coming back home. She replied: this is home now, Buck. You better get use to it.

Turned out that the owner of the lot next to us put a lock on the water house. The problem was solved at 9 am in the morning. I drunk nonstop two full bowls of water and Pia took a long and warm shower. For two days and two nights I whined and shivered like crazy. I couldn’t fall asleep. Pia rubbed my chest with lavender essential oil. It felt good, I have to confess, My mind was foggy, perturbed, I was a mess.

Pia started to get the house a little bit cozier but no signs of a couch or bed. She started to take me out for walks, and hikes. The first time we walked down to the Steelhead Falls Trail at 2 pm on a sunny August day. No big deal, Pia thought. We were sevillanos! Turned out to be very dry and hot! We almost die. Pia had to wet her hat in the Deschutes river and place it on my head. She also put me in the river. I was scared at the beginning, but felt so good that I let her do it a couple of times. I was so out of shape that on the way up River Road, I stopped, and refused to move. My tongue was almost touching the ground. Pia had to carry me all the way home.

Little by little I knew my life was going to turn good. Even Vincent, Pia’s son, visited me for ten days. Yes, he stayed with me, not Pia. I don’t know where Pia went. But he took me to a couple of hikes, and places with a friend, and we snuggle together at night. When Pia came back, she took me every day for a walk or a run to a fascinating loop with all sort of smells. Rabbits, and birds roamed in front of my snout. Yummy carcasses lay in the most surprising places. This was heaven.

I was getting already accustom to the fact that maybe Steve and Clyde died in a natural disaster, when all of the sudden they showed up in the middle of September, and pretty soon my beloved couch and beds and everything also! It took me a while to get accustom that Steve and Clyde were getting Pia distracted from my walks. I was even kicked out of the bed. However things started to settle in, and I am having both worlds now: best naps and food with Steve, and thrilling hikes and runs with Pia. No offense, Steve, but I prefer Pia as a runner. Her rhythm is gentle and slow. You just wear me out!

Winter though, that’s another story.

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My fairy tale nightmare (Part 1. The nightmare) #SOL Tuesday

Inspired by writer, teacher and blogger, Fran Hailey, this piece is written by four legged guest blogger, Buck. Since I am again on a Tuesday #Sol at an airport, I am grateful that Buck stepped in. He got a little carried away, and his tale has to continue next week, otherwise it won’t make it on Tuesday and I won’t make my plane to Chile 😉

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Dear readers,

I am so happy to share my experiences of a globetrotter with the audience of my dear owner, even though, a couple of weeks ago, I didn’t think of her as she was too dear to me. Let you explain things as they should be. From the beginning.

I was happily ever after on the lush sunny days of my Andalusian life when all of the sudden my life turned upside down. I was put in jail or that’s what I thought. My owner started to lured me with bits of food and a comfy red padded mat on what I learned later, it was my kennel. Looks like a jail to me anyway, despite the fact that it was taped colorfully and has my name on it. My owner had read a blog post about Luke, a famous wiener dog, that travels all over the world and how his owners prepare his own jail so he isn’t left behind.All those prearrangements didn’t make any sense to me until we arrived to the Barajas airport in Madrid. I produced more paper work than a human, even though, sadly, I learned later, I am easier to enter in the US than a human. Me and Pia held the check in line for like an hour. They peeked at me, shuffled the papers where it says I was in good health, checked the size of my kennel, making sure I can turn and roll and do all sort of tricks that I couldn’t even think of doing. It was hot, noisy and scary. After that, Pia has to carry me by hand with no wheels or a cart for almost a kilometer. We have to pass security twice. I really like that part because I was taken out and held by Pia and all the security people lost their mean look and started admiring my big smile. But my happiness lasted only for two seconds. After security checks I was returned rudely into my container and a huge guy carried me and put me on a truck. I peeked from the bars as Pia waved goodbye and filmed my departure to hell. I was the only living object on that truck. As a matter of fact, I was alone. The ride was not so bad. I got to see a little bit of the airport since the driver drove first to the wrong airplane or maybe he needed to go to the bathroom. The breeze felt good also. The smell and noise not that much. As we approached the airplane, the big guy tied my kennel with those sturdy plastic strips that you cannot open again. I was in dismay. What was happening? Where I was going? What was going to happen to me? Pia was not in sight, and I was at the mercy of these strong people who were accommodating me next to a bicycle, a couple of golf clubs and something that looked like a big instrument and a black trunk. They closed the door and I heard some motors starting. The rest felt like if I were a piece of dirt inside a vacuum cleaner. What an horrific sound, and all that movement. I was grateful that the plastic strips were securely attached to the bars. I tried to buried myself on my blanket to avoid reality. But it was a mixture of waves of heat and cold air that didn’t let me settle. The thirst was killing me. After two hours of pure hell, they opened the vacuum cleaner and I felt relief and joy. An unknown woman yelled something in a language I couldn’t understand. They gave me a little bit of water through the bars.

That’s it! I was under the spell of the witch of Hansel and Gretel. That’s the language they were speaking, after all. What didn’t make sense is that they didn’t give me anything to eat. Wasn’t the idea that the witch wanted to fatten Hansel and Gretel? Well, not me. I was doommed to live with two droplets of water for 24 hours.

They transferred me to a cart were they buried me with suitcases and boxes of all sizes and shapes. Mostly odd shapes and somehow heavier than me. I tried to smile but my face was confronted as if a door was slammed in front of it. Again I was put in a vacuum cleaner. This time a wider one and for more than 10 hours! At the end, I didn’t even remember that my name was Buck. They took my blanket and tied it to the outside handle. Probably they thought I could hang myself with it. They were not too far from reality . I lost the thrive, my life was miserable and my tummy was starting to grumble. (To be continued).When things were still somehow ok.Me, being placed among odd and non-living things