Little Miss Corgi

I’ve been thinking my corgi, Maddie, needed a sweet treat.

She’s been a trooper this fall, buzzing around the yard in spite of the lameness of her back legs.

“Hey girl, I’ve got something special for you,” I proudly announced.

I placed a dog eared copy of the late Tash Tudor’s book “Corgiville Fair” in front of her.

I’d just picked it up at the used book store thinking we’d read it together to my dog crazy 3 year old grandson. I’d lost my first corgi’s copy several years before.

Maddie sniffed each colorful page I turned and looked very excited.

At least initially.

But her smile disappeared as I closed the book and continued to do yard work.

It seems Maddie really thought we were going to a fair where corgis rule the county.

I felt guilty as I kept raking the falling maple leaves with Maddie looking so downtrodden.

After a while, I went into the kitchen to check on my baking in the oven.

I then walked out to the backyard with a slice of warm apple pie for Maddie.

Her sweet smile returned, wider than before, as she licked her bowl clean.

Including that deliciously fragrant dollop of cinnamon ice cream I’d added.

Maddie now knows, even if she’s never named Miss Corgi at a fair, she’ll always be the reigning queen of this household.

Barnyard in a bookstore


Thinking I needed to step up on my ’50 by 60′ bucket list, the first thing I did today was trip over a chicken.

A live one.

The big bird was dancing on the carpet of a bookstore, right by the front door.

Just like your local Walmart greeter.

This special shop is designed for the very young.

And the young at heart.

I guess that would be me.

I’m stopping by each of the independent bookstores within an hour radius that I’ve never entered before.

And in this particular bookstore I found the chicken had plenty of company.

I spotted cats, a couple of cooing doves, hairless mice, ferrets, and one big litter of kids in overstuffed chairs.

Reading.

There may have been even more critters, children’s books and kids downstairs.

But I was just too chicken to go there.

Amazingly the store was spotless except for the mud I tracked in from my pink flip flops.

I became very excited when I encountered several of my favorite authors’ books, and I pulled down an extra special one from the shelf.

The chicken greeter walked right up to me, also excited as the book’s about a farm with animals.

Even though this is one big city bird.

But I still thought we’d be fast friends, and he’d surely want to sit right up on my lap.

Maybe even have me tell him the story.

That is, until he saw my camera.

And then read me the riot act with a round of cantankerous clucking.

Turns out this foul mouth bird prefers little kids to big, aging chicks.

But when I looked over my shoulder while exiting, I believe I caught him reading.

And he seemed to be really be enjoying the book.

Along with a young boy.

I smiled, happy the chicken had a new friend.

Even if it wasn’t me.