Meet the Noodle

After almost three months we finally decided it was time to find a new little dog.

Our criteria were:

  1. Small – 15lbs or less
  2. Terrier MIX  – a pure breed seemed to be too health fragile
  3. Had to PLAY BALL!
  4. On the young side – being a puppy was optional but under 2 years at least
  5. Trainable – being a terrier pretty much assured that.

As I had with Tucker and Buddy I went to the internet to seek the little critter and I found him on Craig’s List.

The add read:

Rat terrier mix looking for a loving home. He is neutered and crate trained/housebroken. He is very intelligent, easy to train, and knows simple commands (sit, stay). He is a great pal to take out for runs and he loves to play fetch!!! We have a full year worth of flea/tick prevention and heart worm medication and we have all of his vet records. He is in excellent health. Unfortunately he is dog #3 in our home and his Alpha-male tendencies do not jive well with our dominant male French Bulldog. We are sad to see him go, but he would be better suited in another loving home.



a long drive.

(200 miles round trip)

We didn’t mind.  I drove approximately 500 miles round trip when we lived in California to go get Buddy.  He was worth it and so is the new little pup.

This is the Noodle


At 17 pounds he is about 2 pounds bigger than Tucker, but he fits in the little dog’s bed even with his favorite toy in there with him.

However, it must be said that his favorite place to sleep is…


My seat!

I get up, I come back, and there he is.


The Noodle has some highly skilled parts that come standard with this breed and are controlled by a very high dose of canine intelligence!

Noodle Parts Chart

(click for larger view)

Noodle-Parts-ChartA fun time is guaranteed with this pup!


Oh yes, and why name him Noodle?

Tucker had a docked tail that we called the stinger when he wagged it.  He moved it so fast that the little white tip would blur in a visual trail.

Noodle has his whole tail ~ yay!  When he wags, it is wiggly, and looks a bit like a wet noodle.

Ergo his new moniker:  Noodle.


A good dog is hard to find.

A good used dog?  Almost impossible.

We think we found a great one!

The Little Dog is mending nicely!

I have been rather invisible since I last told you about little Tucker.  However, I have good news!  He is nearly mended!  His wound has was scabbed and down to the size of a pea last night.  This morning he got to it and the scab is missing…

I’m telling you that little dog has OCLD!

That would be obsessive compulsive licking disorderHe simply doesn’t seem able to stop.  (sigh)

What I couldn’t imagine was…  How he could get to it at all!

He was outfitted in a cervical collar and a cone device.  We started with the collar, and then tried the cone, and finally ended up putting on both.  This worked for a bout a week, and then he found out how to get at it again!

Then I saw this:  doggie Lederhosen!

lederhosen dogPlease click the doggie to be magically transported to the original photo at

And,  Ta-DA…


Doggie Lederhosen were imagined for the little pup!

They were easily fashioned using my scissors and man-sized, white tube socks!  Although, I will admit that it took several iterations and alterations to arrive at the two sock model shown here…

Now that he is well armored he’s miserable, as am I,  but at least he is almost all healed,  and I’m grateful for that!

Even if he is not.


Once Upon a Time in the West: a first kiss and a fisticuffs

fisticuffs:  to fight with the fists. 

First Known Use: 1605  ~ This correct definition is from Merriam Webster  and can be found HERE


Once when I was seven we lived in an unincorporated little suburb of Southern California.  Somewhere in the middle between Pomona, Montclair and Chino if I recall correctly. The little two bedroom house on Kadota Street was  surrounded by cows and cattle fence.  Smaller even than our current Farmlet, it was our family’s little bit of heaven on one-quarter acre.

I had a few friends, but being a bit of a Tomboy back then I really rather favored the friendship of a little blond-headed boy named Johnny.  We use to walk the pastures, build forts, climb trees, and play in the hayloft.  We loved to spin tales and then act them out.

Because of our boyish friendship it came as quite a shock, when one day in the hayloft Johnny tried to kiss me!  On the lips!  He leaned in, and I defensively crossed my arms over my chest between us,

and then pushed him away…


He went flying back and over the edge of the hayloft.  Crawling to the edge and looking down, I could see him laying there, on his back, and underneath the cow.  He was looking shocked and shouting up to me he exclaimed,

“Well, what’d ya do that for?”

I told him,  “Kissing was for grown-ups”, then climbed down the ladder and ran for home.

Over the next few weeks I avoided Johnny at school.  So it was a complete surprise to find him waiting for me on my way home one day.  He was angry and trying to pick a fight!  I wasn’t having any of that, so I crossed the street and tried to walk on by, but he caught up to me, grabbed my arm,  and hit me!

Of course I got really mad and lit into him, punching him right back, until he cried and ran off for home.  When I got home I said nothing to my parents, because I didn’t want to get in trouble for fighting.

Later that day, his dad came to the door with him in tow.  His dad wanted to speak to my dad.  The conversation went something like this as I recall,

J’s dad:  Your son beat up my son and gave him this black eye!

My dad:  I don’t see how that is possible…  (he was cut off)

J’s dad:  You’re calling my son a liar?

My dad:  I have two son’s.  On is two, and the other is in a cast over there in the living room, and he can’t even walk!

J’s dad to J:  You told me he beat you up?  What’s going on!

J:  No daddy, not him, her!

J’s dad:  You let a GIRL do this to you?  (smack)  Get along home!

Poor Johnny!


Johnny and I never were friendly after that day in the hayloft, and he never tried to fight me again either.  ;)

Of note, a favorite song of mine from about that time was Perry Como’s Catch a Falling Star.  I used to sing the refrain all the time, because it was catchy and I liked the idea. 

“Catch a falling star and put it in your pocket, save it for a rainy day…”

However, the whole song has a line in there that may have given Johnny the wrong idea?  Who can say?  :D

Play Ball!

After far too many months of illness we had begun to think that our little circus dog, Tucker, would never play ball again.  He simply had no desire to even get up.

However, tonight at the dinner table a ball suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

Bob said, “Where did this come from?”

To which the Little Dog enthusiastically replied,


OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERASo, with medication, and some exercise, in small doses at first, it would seem that the Little Dog still has a few good years left in him.

Can you feel the happiness!