Two Barking Dogs

That is Mr. Moe on the left, and me on the right, c. 1960-ish.  Mr. Moe was made from an old pair of my dad’s pants, an old shirt, both stuffed with scrunched up newspaper, a plastic pumpkin for his head, an old hat, corncob pipe, and great-grandpa’s old bamboo cane.  I don’t know where the idea of Mr. Moe came from, but he was a Halloween prop for many years, right up there with carved pumpkin, and lots of candy for trick-or-treaters.

I think I’ll make a Mr. Moe this year.  I just hope the neighborhood kids don’t set him on fire or kick the stuffing out of him.

On the lower left front of the streetcar, it is marked “Dodge Sedan,” and on the back of the photo it is marked “March 1934.”  That’s it.  No further information.  No idea where the photo was taken, and believe me I’ve done some major “googling.”   I like the composition of this photo, the grainy, dirty, and the cold wintry street.  It makes me want to pack my bags and head back to Florida.

Let me say first off that this is a true story.  It happened many years ago, and has become one of those family stories that gets retold almost every year on Thanksgiving.

My mom cooked the Thanksgiving turkey early in the day, and the plan was that we would go visit friends across town, and come back for dinner about 45 minutes  later.  So, when the turkey was done, mom covered it in aluminum foil, put the covered pan on the kitchen counter next to the oven, and off we went.  My parents, my younger sister, and me.  Left home alone was one 22 pound Butterball turkey, all the makings for gravy, and vegetables that would only need to be reheated when we got home for dinner.  Oh, yea, did I forget to mention that the dogs were left home, too?

Cleo and Kissy were mother and daughter.  They were both black poodles and weighed in at about 20-25 lbs.  They were nice dogs, and both of them absolutely loved my mother.  They tolerated the rest of the world.  They would attack my dad anytime he got in or out of bed, and while they weren’t terribly destructive dogs, I know for a fact that Cleo used to do things out of spite.  Leave me home and go out to have fun without me?  I think I’ll dig a hole in your mattress.  Stay out all day and ignore me on the weekend?  Well, I think I’ll just destroy every pillow in the house so that when you go to vacuum up the mess you burn up two vacuum motors.

I think you can see where this is going.  Our kitchen in the house where I grew up was early-1960’s Florida turquoise, and if you were an agile French Poodle, you could jump on the kitchen chair, on to the kitchen table and counters, walk across the kitchen counters, dodge the double sinks, and voila! You would find yourself right there on the counter next to the oven.  The very special place where a 22 pound Butterball was relaxing under its shiny aluminum foil hat.

When we got home from our visit, imagine the surprise on everyone’s face when upon entering the kitchen, Tom Turkey was lying on the kitchen floor partially eaten and partially destroyed!  My mom started yelling.  My dad started laughing.  And two little black dogs went running for cover under the couch in the family room.

After everything was cleaned up, Tom Turkey’s remains discarded, and we sat down to a dinner of vegetables.  No gravy for the potatoes since the dogs had eaten the giblets, too.  If you could ask my dad, he would tell you that it was probably the best Thanksgiving dinner he ever had.  He likes the veggies the most, and was probably cheering on the dogs for their ingenious behavior.   That was of course, until the turkey, and grease, and giblets hit the dogs straight in the gut.  I won’t describe what followed for the next couple of days except to say that it involved a lot of paper towels, Lysol disinfectant, and more yelling by my mother.

So.  The morals of this story?

• Don’t leave your cooked turkey dinner unattended in a house with a dog;
• If you do leave your turkey dinner unattended, make backup plans for dinner;
• It is always wise to have Pine-Sol or Lysol, paper towels, and a strong constitution on hand if you have mischievous dogs.

The culprits:

I really like this photo — the look of innocence on the young girl’s face, hands folded neatly in her lap, ankles crossed, knees together; the look of slight impatience on the young man’s face with his slicked-back hair and big ears.  Were they boyfriend and girlfriend? Or, brother and sister?  Who took the picture? Mom? or Dad?  The only thing I know for sure is that the license plate reads Virginia – 1939.  There’s a very pretty rose arbor, white picket fence, and is that a Coca-Cola sign over there on the building behind the car (left)?  Another time, unknown people,  in an unknown place.  Very Capraesque.

I have a collection of vintage photos and post cards, and for a while I was posting them on another blog called “Daily Vintage Square.”  It all got to be a bit too much keeping track of two blogs, then another third photography blog, and then another personal journal.  Yikes! Talk about overextending to the point that everything suffered neglect.

I really like vintage photos, and they make me wonder about the people, places, and things from long ago.  I love the old styles, hairdos, smart looking cars, and furry little critters.  So, starting today, I’m going to post a vintage photo here once a week on Tuesdays.  The photos and postcards might be something that you already saw on the other blog if you were checking it out back then, but bear with me.  This might be more fun!

Here’s the twist: instead of posting the photo for all to look at and move on, I think it would be fun to make conjecture and wonder out loud.  Everyone is invited to comment, make up a story, wonder out loud either by leaving a comment here, or cross-posting on your own blog.  Feel free to copy the photos to your own blog with a mention to Two Barking Dogs.

If I know anything definite about a photo like a name, date or place, I’ll share it with you.  For instance, this photo was from a collection that I bought on eBay and came from California.

Originally, I liked this photo because of the shadows that the pine trees project onto the little bungalow in the background.  Now, looking at this lady’s face, and her clothing, I wonder if she was on her way out for a night on the town?  One of my grandmothers used to have a fox stole like that one, and it creeped me out as a little kid.  Can you imagine wearing a stole like this in public today?  I love this lady’s smile – she seems so relaxed and happy.

My ideas?

Her name is Gladys.  She moved to California 10 years previously from Chicago or Milwaukee.  She drinks sloe gin fizzes, and she cheats when she plays gin with her next door neighbors.  She has two small yappy dogs, and she likes to sit on the front porch in the evenings.  She never married, and she likes to go to parties with her girlfriends.  She works as a secretary, and she hates going back to visit family in the mid-west because they don’t understand her, and because she would miss the California weather too much.

I spent the last two weeks in Florida visiting the Old Folks.  It was very hot and very humid.  I didn’t do much of anything except run back and forth to the doctor the first week (nothing fatal, just routine), and the second week? Nothing much that week either.

Clover and Cosmo are readjusting to life in Virginia with the little yard and no Hairy Beast to play with, and I’m doing my own laundry again.  Ah well, reality sets back in.

A couple of highlights from Florida:

• Cosmo escaped the backyard and ran away for all of about 5 minutes.  I was visiting the Old Folks that live next door (my Aunt and Uncle), when my mom called to say that Cosmo was loose and running down the street, and that my 82 year-old -heart patient -recuperating from a hernia operation father was giving chase.  I dashed home and grabbed the car keys, almost ran over the gardener, and headed to the last known spot where father and dog were spotted.  I no sooner turned the corner that I spotted my dad who pointed to Cosmo who was watering the shrubs.  I called him and I could see the wheels turning in his little pea brain … “to run? or not?, that is the question.”  He chose the preferred option and came right over to me when I called him, sat very very still, and waited for me to leash him up.   Smart dog.
• I got to see a Miami Dolphins game on tv.  (Comment:  In the words of Forrest Gump, “That’s all I have to say about that.”)
• I noticed that the car dealerships that have dominated local television advertising for years, have been replaced by advertisers for every weight loss system, supplement, or program ever invented.
• Clover barks more in Florida than she does in Virginia.  A whole lot more.
• My parents are addicted to Fox News Channel.  I know this because, my parents were having a conversation the other day about someone Megyn who just had a baby and that they named it Edward.  It took me 20 questions to figure this one out.
• Both of my parents need hearing aids.
• One of the commercials on tv got my attention was www.whocanisue.com.  Yes. That’s right, “Who Can I Sue . Com“   I have to say that I am still shaking my head over that one.  I checked out the website.  I guess it could be helpful to someone.
• What the hell happened to all of those car dealerships that used to scream at you about the latest greatest model at the best lowest price ever?  Maybe I’ll sue someone to find out.

That’s it for now.  I’m off to watch the Washington Redskins lose to Tampa Bay barely win the game over Tampa Bay.