Lucy's Blog

I am a black lab. My humans call me Lucy.

Sammie Grace, the author of Fish Perfume, lives with me.
Here is the inside scoop on this goofy lady.

SammieGrace by SammieGrace @
SammieGrace by SammieGrace @
I find it fascinating that some humans just talk, talk, and talk about absolutely nothing of importance.  You don’t hear me barking for nothing.  If I spot a squirrel or a cat in the backyard, I let out a good bark, but that is to be expected.  After all, I need to let them know who’s the boss around here.

Even though Sammie and I are both girls, I really have more in common with Hun.  You see, Sammie talks a lot to me and to Hun but most of what she’s saying is insignificant to us.  In other words, we mostly tune her out.  Hun says that Sammie knows things that no one really needs to know. There are certain things she says that our subconscious is programmed to pick up however.  Important things like, “Are you hungry?”  “Time for dinner.”  “How about a treat?”  The five words that perk up Hun the most are, “How about some ice cream?”  Of course, that doesn’t happen much anymore since Sammie declared the house a NO DESSERT ZONE.  Hun’s niece was visiting last weekend and sneaked him a few brownies.  Hun instantly promoted her to favorite relative status.

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 SammieGrace My son Guinness and I having a blast at the beach the other day!
SammieGrace by SammieGrace @

I was taking inventory of my girlie parts yesterday and I was horrified when I noticed some gray hairs.  I said to myself – “What the hell!”  I’m way too young for this to be happening.  What if my boyfriend Deebee sees it?  I told you he’s already sniffing around that labradoodle hussy.  Sammie took notice of it also when she was giving me a belly rub last night.  She was rather upset and said to Hun, “Lucy is going gray, I’ll have to get her hair dyed.” 

Hun lowered the newspaper he was reading to look at Sammie.  He said, “You decide.  It’s either you or her.  I’m not paying for both of you.”  He went back to reading his newspaper and my gray hair hasn’t been mentioned since.   Did I mention how great Sammie’s hair looks?  Sometimes it’s all about her.

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I’m a firm believer in the five second rule.  When something hits the floor, I’m on it in a flash because keeping the floor clean is one of my many jobs.  I think I might have to rethink this though.  Yesterday, Hun and I went up to see Granny and Gramps again.  Hun was outside doing yard work and I was in my usual spot under the kitchen table.  I just had a pancake, and was about to drift off for my mid-morning nap, when something hit the floor.  I didn’t get a good look at it because my eyes were half closed, but I figured it had to be something tasty.  I stuck out my tongue and licked it right up.  That’s when the “you–know-what” hit the fan.  Granny and Gramps had quite a loud discussion over whether or not to tell Hun and Sammie I just ate one of Gramps’ blood thinner pills.  Granny won out, and not a word was said to Hun.  Later that night at home, the phone rang and since Sammie was the closest to the phone, she answered it.  Unfortunately, Gramps decided to break down and spill the beans.  When Sammie got off the phone, the look she shot Hun made him wince.  Personally, I was waiting for her head to spin around.  Of course, she immediately called the twenty-four hour doggie hospital.  The Vet said as long as I didn’t cut myself, I’d be fine.  I guess I better start looking before I leap.  Oops!

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Hun goes to see his parents a lot when he’s home.  He always takes me with him and I do my pet therapy thing.  They love getting attention from me.  Well, who doesn’t, right?  Granny and Gramps always sit at the kitchen table and I position myself under it right between the two of them.  Granny says they’re older than dirt and they are entitled to eat whatever they want.  Sounds good to me.

Granny is quite the cook.  Not many people can cook like she does.  She only uses one pan, the frying pan.  Everything gets cooked in it – bacon, sausage, hot dogs, Spam, you name it.  I don’t know what Spam is, but it’s really tasty.  She pulls all kinds of stuff out of the fridge, and BAM, it goes in the frying pan. She says she was BAMMING way before that Chef Emeril was even born.  Lucky for me, old people drop stuff as much as little kids, and a lot of good foods hits the floor.  Most of the time though, I think it's on purpose.  They like to spoil me.  Gramps especially does, he also gives me half of whatever is on his plate.  He’s a sweetie! 

Hun also sneaks a piece of bacon or sausage when we’re up there.  Sammie only cooks him bacon and eggs on his birthday.  Poor Hun!

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Sammie’s husband Hun is home.  I don’t think that’s his real name, but that’s what she calls him, so I’m going with Hun.  Whenever he puts his hat on, I sashay to the door and sit like a pretty girl.  I know once I bat my big brown eyes at him, I’ll get to go for a ride in the truck.  Men are such pushovers.  Sammie hardly ever rides in the truck, so I get to ride shotgun.  Sometimes, he’ll stop at McDonald’s and get us some French fries.  It’s one of our many secrets from Sammie.

On the rare occasion when all three of us are going somewhere in the truck, as soon as Hun opens the door, I jump in and take my usual spot in the front seat.  Hun opens the back door for Sammie.  She gives him a dirty look, gives me an eye roll and climbs in the back.

I think if there is a seat with your ass-print imbedded in it, it yours for life!  Sorry, Sammie!  

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Sammie and I were out for our morning walk the other day when this crazy dog came racing down the street towards us.  I wasn’t afraid because hey, I can take care of myself.  Sammie, however, was freaking out.  The dog was a little smaller than me and I don’t think she was very old because she still had a lot of puppy in her.  I think she was of the mutt variety.  Her coat was black and white and she sported a pink collar.  We walk in that neighborhood all the time, but we’d never seen this dog before.  She started jumping all over me and finally Sammie let me off the leash so I could get in her face a little.  Sammie kept telling her to go home, but no dice.  Sammie even went so far as to flag down passing cars and asked people if they knew where the dog came from.  Unfortunately, they had never seen her before either.  By this time, both Sammie and I decided that the dog wouldn’t hurt a fly, and we felt comfortable with her walking with us.  She was a happy little thing.  She just wanted to play and have fun.  A party girl for sure.  Reminds me of me. 

She followed us into our neighborhood.  We stopped by my son’s house on the way home, and after much conversation between his family and Sammie, they decided they had to call the pound.  If the dog had a tag, they could have just called the owner.  

Sammie didn’t want to leave the dog loose because she was afraid it would get hit by a car or eaten by those nasty coyotes we see once in awhile in our backyard.

Don’t forget, if you want to hang on to your perfect pooch, make sure you get a tag for his/her collar or have a microchip implanted in your pet.  Of course, I have both.      

The good news is, Sammie just called the pound, and the family came and got her.   YEAH!

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I think I might have buried a bone next to these Irises.  Don't tell Sammie!

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I hope this isn’t TMI.  I eat like a queen around here.  Sammie feeds me this food that is called Ocean Formula.  It’s good and I gobble it right down.  She also feeds me these treats that are freeze-dried sweet potatoes.  I figure with the seafood and vegetable treats she’s feeding me I should live forever.  They say cats have nine lives.  With what Sammie is feeding me, I’d put up my longevity against any feline. 

I’m not sure if it is because I have such a healthy diet, or it’s just in my DNA, but I go number two at least three times a day like clockwork.  I know -  BRAG, BRAG, BRAG!  This is sad, but I think Sammie is jealous.  Sometimes when she is getting my breakfast or dinner, I see her looking at my dog food with a little too much interest.