Category Archives: Sunny

Sunny the dog

I almost missed posting a blog today. It was a busy day doing yard work.

Sunny joined me for a walk the other day and this is how he celebrated.

Sunny rolled and wiggled in the grass. The good part was that he did this spontaneously, not because he found something stinky to roll in. It was just a joyful roll.

Now I’ve finished my daily blog and I can head up to bed.

Copyright © 2020 by Susan Manzke, all rights reserved

A little added flavor

When I use a can of food, I like to scrape out every drop, which includes pet food.

Cat food cans are no exception.

Instead of just washing the empty cans out before recycling them, I put Sunny’s kibble inside the can. After stirring the dry food around a bit, I pour Sunny’s now flavored kibble back into his bowl.

Sunny likes the little extra flavor that is scraped out with his kibble.

He would eat his kibble even without the extra flavor. I do this because I love my dog and hate to even waste a smidgen of food.

Copyright © 2020 by Susan Manzke, all rights reserved

Me and Sunny the dog

I worry about Sunny. He’s a large dog. Sunny is ten years old and sometimes he shows his age (72 in human years).

When he was in for his checkup, I talked to the vet about Sunny’s arthritis. Because of some leg issues, I no longer let him follow me upstairs.

I’ve been blocking off the stairs when I feed the cats. Sunny would gobble down his food first, and then go gobble down the cat food. Cat food is not good for him, so this has been going on for some time….years.

Othello catching a snack

Now I keep it blocked off so Sunny won’t go up the stairs at all, or at least rarely. He has caught me off guard, racing to get some of the crumbs left before I set the gate back in place….naughty dog.

Not too long ago, Sunny had slipped on an upper step. I thought he was going to fall all the way down. The gate is to protect him from hurting himself.

I want to keep my furry friend with me for a long, LONG time. He’s a good dog and companion for me.

Copyright © 2020 by Susan Manzke, all rights reserved

It’s about time

I know I’ve washed the kitchen floor in the past, but when I don’t exactly remember… It’s only me here after all.

Today, I ended my moratorium on floor washing.

As spring rains arrived, Sunny dog left tracks on the linoleum before I could stop him at the door. He was in a hurry to have breakfast and didn’t care about wiping his feet.

I bit the bullet, moved table and chairs, and mopped the floor.

No one will see my work, as no one comes into my house these days. It still is a good feeling to get this done.

The next time Sunny comes in with wet/muddy paws, I’m going to make sure I catch him and wipe his feet. It was my fault that he decorated the kitchen floor with his footprints. I need to be faster with the dog towel. After all, Sunny doesn’t care if the floor sparkles or not when food is on his mind.

FYI: Don’t forget to search for Susan Manzke on YouTube.com for more stories read by me. There are over 30 now.

Copyright © 2020 by Susan Manzke, all rights reserved

A furry visitor

There are a lot of animals that visit our farm, but usually, they don’t live close to the house.

Adult rabbits have not been seen here for a couple of years. They are not the target of rural cats. Owls, hawks, coyotes, and bald eagles take the larger rabbits they find. Mostly, its the baby bunnies that end up as an easy meal for a cat or as a toy for Sunny.

I had one rabbit come for a visit today.

At least I hope it was just for a visit. The last rabbit made a nest in Sunny’s pen and Sunny found it.

Our dog did not eat the bunnies, but he did play with them. Like Lenny in of Mice and Men, Sunny doesn’t know his own strength.

I had to chase Sunny before I could take the last baby bunny from his mouth. It had not been torn to shreds. I think it died from the shock of being in Sunny’s mouth.

Anyway, I hope this is a rare sight and this rabbit has moved on to find safer accommodations. I sure don’t want Sunny finding more ‘squeaking’ toys.

Copyright © 2020 by Susan Manzke, all rights reserved