Kissee, The Singing Dog – Notes From Treetops, on The Southern Oregon Coast

Kissee – Checking out the Garden Party Menu!

                 Dragging ourselves out of a warm bed on a winter morning, reluctant to leave the cozy cocoon we formed around ourselves, we are greeted by the cheery glow of the fireplace, and can only wonder why we waited so long to have one, albeit gas-fired.  It’s hard to face the reality that the year is drawing to a close.  We sailed through the past year, and what a year!  First it rained until May, then one day it was half-heartedly summer.  But, for the most part it was windy and cool.  Finally, when the kids went back to school, we were blessed with a month of the most beautiful autumn weather.

                This summer Kissee,  one of our many Boston Terriers, learned to go downstairs to the dog run all by herself, and also learned that if she ran like the devil with anything she found on the floor, flying down the steps to deposit said booty in the dog run, more often than not we couldn’t catch her.  Most of her bounty consisted of all manner of clothing items that we stupid humans had left on the floor to become new dog toys. If you couldn’t find your belt, or your right shoe, we now knew where to look.   She also acquired the even more undignified name of Punky-butt, which somehow managed to attach itself to her. 

                Her first experience with live music captured her attention.  Intrigued, she would sit for hours under the drum set as Sam played, as his latest set of musicians gathered for band practice.  She became enamored with the soft sounds of Liv’s flute.  Giving us a daft look, raising her ears, and cocking her head to one side, she would close her eyes, and begin to drift off into a world of her own.  Then slowly raising her head, and her voice, she would sing along as they played.  The most amazing thing was that she sang in key.

                She also developed quite a rapport with Sam the Parrot (not the husband), the two spending quality time together with an ensuing barrage of barks, coos, whistles, yaps and other strange sounds.  She also became enamored of the clock ticking by my bed.  Clocks do not tick anymore, and I love the sound of a clock ticking.  It brings back memories of my childhood, spending time in my grandmother’s house, a small but cozy English row house, with its warm fires and tiny rooms.  The stillness of this November morning reflects my mood.  I don’t feel like moving much either.   Surrounded by dogs, it is a treat to snuggle into a soft blanket, grab a good book, and relish the warmth and pleasure of staying home.

Goldie Checkibg out the newest addition – Kissee