a Taj MuttHall Dog Diary: New Year's Eve at Taj MuttHall

Monday, January 01, 2018

New Year's Eve at Taj MuttHall

SUMMARY: Poor scaredy Chip.

It's been quite cold at night, so I had high hopes for few or no fireworks so maybe I could go to bed early and comfy, but alas, no.

The day started as a cheerful winter's day. Gave the Rawhides Of Unusual Size from Christmas back to both dogs.  Chip settled in and resumed gnawing like a champ.  Zorro sniffed at it a bit but really had no interest still.  So, in the interest of evidence-based experimentation, I gave him a much smaller one to see what would happen.

He carried it around looking concerned for a while, from one lounging spot to another, never putting it down; never chewing on it, either. Finally he exited the house, and Experienced Human Mom recognized the I'm-Going-To-Bury-This-Amazing-Treasure behavior and grabbed the camera.

He roamed around the edges of the yard behind things for a couple of minutes, pausing briefly at many spots to examine them, so it was tough to get a shot--

And then suddenly he noticed me through the window and froze, stunned beyond belief that I would be so ghastly rude!! as to watch a dog bury a bone!

Stood there for a few moments in righteous indignation, then trotted purposefully out around the side of the house where I couldn't see him. Came back inside a while later with dirt on his nose and no rawhide.

I had many many Human Mom sorts of activities to do around the house, and so the day wound its way onward.

Was still daylight when the neighbors started partying not with fireworks but with music with a heavy drumbeat which apparently Chip interpreted as The Horror Of Devil-Spawned Fireworks.  Hence, large dog in lap in little chair. Not comfy for either of us.  Fortunately, lasted only 15-20 minutes when apparently his razor-sharp, fast-as-lightning mind ascertained that there was no immediate threat.

Zorro, meanwhile, stood watch, not wanting to leave this hotbed of exciting activity and yet making sure that no rawhide thief, such as any malevolent Squirrel!, snuck into the yard.

Then, for the moment, all was right with the world.


As the day continued its New Years Eveish way, Zorro periodically appeared with His Precious.   (Note it is now no longer pristine.)

Then it would vanish again. Much amusement occurred in the brain of Human Mom.

Nearing normal bedtime, Human Mom settled with her New York Times crossword, ready for a pleasant and calming activity.  (Heh, advice column heading is "Ladies prefer cats to family members."  Turns out they are the villains in that story. Figures. Cats. Pfft.)

And then, sigh, fireworks began. Not an onslaught, but enough that You Know Who returned in search of a lap. This time Human Mom provided a cushion to make the visit more comfortable for all. Still... hard to complete the nearly completed NYTC.

Hmmm, Human Mom, you not iz get five ov letterz answering of "Chip away at" clue iz? Iz me knowingz! Is "dog go"!

Oh. Iz not. 

Fireworks. Bah.

When Chip would vacate Lapland, Mr. Z occasionally wanted a snuggle of confirmation that he was not being left out.

In due time, all became silent. (Won't mention the due time was 2:30 a.m.)

Happy New Year to all and to all a safe, quiet rest and answers to life's puzzles.


  1. We had only a few moments of fireworks here, and for whatever reason Katie, who was sleeping, didn't react at all. I went back to sleep. It did occur to me that it was odd she didn't react...but I put it down to the fact it was my first night back after being away for a week and maybe she was so tired from waiting for me that she was sleeping hard. Who knows. I will watch her to see if she reacts to other noises though, as maybe she's beginning to lose her hearing. She's 11 now.

    1. 11! These dogs grow up so fast.
      I don't know that we had a lot, certainly not compared to 4th of July, but often enough that just as Chip would relax, there'd be more. I had the stereo on playing enthusiastic xmas music (e.g., Tijuana Brass, Manheim Steamroller...) and that helped, but not conducive to *me* sleeping. Jake's and Tika's hearing both started fading by that age and so it got harder to tell when they really didn't hear me vs not wanting to hear me. Good luck with that, little Katie!