there's nothing worse than a pooh-eatin' dog unless it's a purrin'-devil cat

Meet Gingerbitus Chewbarker, a rough coat collie, mother of countless puppies, long ago spayed, whose name was a combination of her activities as a puppy. We call her Ginger. She can (or could when she was younger) sit, shake, gimme 5, speak, and rollover (if she was in a big enough space so she didn't knock over a kid or a table). She's a big old girl who can't see well anymore, but still comes when called, especially if you use that googly-sweet high-pitched babytalk ("Ohhh Ginger, come on girl, yeah, that's a good girldog"--stuff like that). Until we got Ginger, I had no idea that collies are such total dogs. They love to eat everything that has a scent. Really. Their roles in the gardens are to eat, put their big noses in the trash to find stuff to eat, shed their long hair, and communicate by barking, moaning, groaning, sighing, and howling. When Ginger was younger, her favorite thing to do to visitors in the gardens was to walk up to them and put her long collie nose between their legs and lift them up. Her other favorite thing was and is spending time with kids--she has always been patient and tolerant of kids laying on her and pulling at her. When we had a trampoline, anytime the kids got on the tramp, Ginger would bark and carry on until they either got down or lifted her up on the tramp with them. Not that she could have jumped without breaking a skinny collie leg. But she does love being with the kids. And eating.



Next is Dollatolla Toobarky. We call her Dolly. Yes, she is Dolly the collie. She is a couple of years younger than Ginger but she is every bit as much a doggie dog as Ginger and more. When we went to the breeder to pick out a collie pup, Dolly was the one who kinda hung back from the others. They were all puppy-wrestling, a mass of many different pups, but Dolly was the one who poked her long nose out of the door of their dog house and watched everything going on while staying five feet away. Jessie spotted her immediately and knew that the bright-eyed curious shy dog was the one she wanted. She is still the dog that cautiously watches before proceeding. Dolly loves kids just like Ginger does. She rubs up against them with her great collie nose and almost pushes them over because she wants them to pet her and it's a way to show her affection for them. Dolly eats everything Ginger does and dog pooh as well. I never once saw Lassie do that, but after we got Dollie I learned that it took nine collies to make the Lassie tv shows--apparently each one knew just one trick. Dollie's trick is to look sweet. And have truly bad dog breath, which is understandable. Dollie doesn't bark unless she hears a dog walking past the gardens on a leash. Actually, she isn't barking, it's more like she's anxiously screaming. Something like, "Who do you think you are, you dog on a leash out in the road. Don't you know I've got it so much better back here in my big yard with no leash?" Well, I'd like to think she is saying that but it's more likely something like, "People in the gardens, you know I get all excited whenever I hear the sound of a leash or dog tags. How come I never get to go for walks out front?" And the reason is because she will only walk half a block and then I have to carry her home. All 95 lbs of her. She could not have been the Lassie whose trick was to walk with Timmy.


Next is Edna St. Vincent Millet II, aka Millie. She is a tabby fraidy-cat who loves to be brushed with my Tupperware potato scrubber. I do not use it on potatoes anymore. She has huge green eyes and the tiniest high-pitched squeaky voice. She likes to drink out of the faucet in the bathroom sink, but only if the bathroom light is on. She lives to eat. Whenever anyone in the gardens pours cereal into a bowl, Millie comes running and follows the cereal bowl, sitting as close as she can so she can remind the cereal eater that she really, really, really wants some of the milk. She also comes running when you turn on the can opener. Millie is excellent for sleeping with because she likes to snuggle up close and purr by my ear. She also fetches rubberbands and those rings from milk jug lids. When the firstborn was recovering from surgery, Millie spent a great deal of time purring on the bed with him. She also started bringing the milk rings downstairs so he would toss them around the room and she would find them and bring them back to him in her mouth. Who knew a fraidy-cat could be trained to fetch?


Middle in the cat family is Little Cat Louise, aka Weezer, LC, Lilcat, and Louise. She doesn't really answer to anything but kittykitty. Okay, she doesn't really come at all when you call her unless she wants to because, hello, she is a cat and she does what she wants to do. Weez has big yellow eyes and long soft black hair with just a few stray white hairs and a little tiny white patch on her chest. When she was a tiny kitty, she didn't know how to purr so she would make this wheezing sound, hence the name Weezer. After several reassuring visits to the vet, she finally figured out how to purr and stopped the wheezing. Her wheezing was way louder than her purring is, and usually I'm the only one knows she is purring because you have to be really close to feel it in her throat. Shortly after we brought home that teensy little black puffball, I realized that she must have been my chow dog, Scout, in a previous life, because she loves me just like he did. Like him, she waits for me to get home so she can always be right where I am. She jumps up on my lap and climbs up on my chest and rubs up under my chin with her paws tucked up around my neck. Okay, Scout did not jump up on my chest, but he was always right where I was. Also like Scout, she has a low quiet voice. Almost a moan usually. So different from the other voices in the gardens.


And finally, there is the newest member of the family, Oscar--Oscar Wilde. He came to the gardens for Jack Jr for Christmas 2007. Oscar is a siamese mix who is a strong, lean male beauty. I'm starting to think that Oscar is actually two cats. There is the sweetheart who purrs louder than any cat I've ever been around. And he does it whenever you start to rub his ears or head. Except when the devil cat appears. Devil cat Oscar looks like Loud Purrer Oscar, but he does.not.purr. He usually gives you one meow that turns into a threatening moan and then into a growl with hissing, biting, scratching, and escaping to quickly follow. Devil cat Oscar is also trying to establish his male, head-of-the-cat-gardens with the girls, but sometimes they just don't feel like being wild animals, and so they make sure that Oscar understands that, dude, we've lived here a lot longer than you and we don't bite the humans, so just get over yourself. Or we'll tag team you. We can do this however you want.

Weez requested this picture of Oscar in the Gardens blog because she and Millie think Oscar looks dopey with his tongue hanging out.