Category: Antics of Pearl Bailey

There are just some stories that begged to be told. Yesterday’s adventure with Pearl Bailey falls into that category.

As the afternoon was giving away to evening, Pearl Bailey and Ella were down in their Shangri-La. I joined them in the yard sitting on a bench under the palms enjoying the peace and quiet. The dogs were most interested in the squirrel du soleil going on up in the live oaks. There were three young squirrels racing up and down the limbs squawking at each other. Pearl Bailey was sprinting intently from tree-to-tree and deep in contemplation, even Ella got into a sentry position. After about ten minutes of this circus performance of dancing dogs and flying mammals, I was just about set to go indoors when all of a sudden one of the squirrels fell down off a limb, dropped onto my lap and bounced off in a tizzy all the while Pearl Bailey came barreling after it, hit the back of the bench flipping it over, me landing ass over tea kettle.

Flabbergasted, I quickly collected myself not wanting to participate any further in the games and as I got up and shook the dirt off myself, here comes Ella who pounced on the back of my knees and knocks me back down onto the ground face first. “Sh*t!”, I bellowed, a cry that could be heard all the way down the island.

Now, if having your face covered in mud isn’t mortifying enough, folks, having this kind of mishap occur when you are wearing white pants is!

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P.S. No animals were harmed in the telling of this story.

Pearl Bailey came sauntering in this afternoon with ashes on her forehead. I said to her, “You’re a little early for Lent, sister, Ash Wednesday is not this week – it’s in February.” She stared at me in dismay. I continued, “OK well, let’s talk about what you are giving up for Lent then…after all Ash Wednesday marks the beginning of the season which calls for reflection and abstinence. I would like to know what you intend to give up. Will you be refraining from your nightly tablespoon of vanilla ice cream? Will you spare the poor lizard population of the world by curtailing your appetite for such? Just wondering, because up until now, Pearl Bailey, you have engaged in a lot of activities that need repentance, and I think it quite wise of you to get a four month jump on it!”

Pearl Bailey exited the room in a huff. I found her an hour later deep in conversation with Ella. Hmmppff….I think they were talking about me!

As you know, The Professor is back watching his beloved baseball, most particularly his World Champion Washington Nationals.

Last night, as I sat quietly occupying myself, my mind wandered long enough to catch a glimpse of the game. I noticed the Umpire reaching into one of the two satchels strapped across his waist. “Man,” I said to the Professor, “How many balls can that Ump carry?” Well, I should have known that would spark a conversation and open up an impartment of knowledge from ‘you know who‘.

“Well,” he began, “Each of those satchels holds about five baseballs. But the ball boy changes those satchels out just about every at bat, so the ump never has to worry about not having enough. By the way, Miss Writer…” he continued, “those bags are not called satchels, they are called scrotum bags!” I shrieked with laughter, “That’s ridiculous, ha ha who ever came up with that!”

I let it go and returned to my mind wanderings eventually making my way to my studio. Now, maybe it was my naiveté or maybe it was old fashion curiosity, but don’t you know I found my fingers on Google. Those satchels are called Equipment Bags or plain ole’ Ball Bags.

The Professor fed me a line of bull. Damn, he got me again!

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The summer would not be complete without an accounting of Pearl Bailey’s grand escape.  When I say this dame took a powder, I mean she even left Ella behind.

The summer was preceding about as normal it could be considering the lingering pandemic.  We had our handyman at the house working on our deck boxes.  We were in and out quite a bit, and therefore so were the dogs.

Once the activity slowed and the quiet was restored, I noticed a whole lot of floor and no big blonde dog lounging about. I called to the Professor, “Where’s Pearl Bailey?” He was deep in Inning 6 with the Nats up 2 runs, “Dunno’” he answered. Shortly thereafter, I began to freak out, “She’s gone!” The Professor quickly shook himself into action and was out the door in hot pursuit. First destination, the beach. When he got up there, it was reported that she had been there, that she took a swim but it had been half hour earlier.

The Professor quickly realized she was nowhere in sight so he headed over to the Bayou, a small snippet of water flowing from the Bay waters to the Pass.  Once the Professor got up there he got the same story, she had been there, she had been seen in the water and it had been some time since she left.  The Professor returned to the house frantic and by then my calls around the neighborhood had me in the same state. 

A deep discussion over the garden gate had us deciding to split up – he would take the car, I would stick with the neighborhood, post on social media and make some calls.  I went into the house to get the Professor’s phone for him and as I walked out to the garage to hand it to him there on the 2 x 2 foot stair landing sat a widely-grinning Pearl Bailey, dripping wet and stinking of scummy Bayou water. 

Now my grandma used to have a saying, “I don’t get to town often but when I do…woo hoo!”  And that was the thought that crossed my mind at that exact minute.  By the way, just for the record… it was dinner time.  I rest my case.

In the early morning hours this very morning, Pearl Bailey was awake and spunky and anxious to get out to her Shangri-La. This is a somewhat peculiar behavior for her. Typically she rises slowly and determinedly as she makes her way down the stairs; stopping to check out all the entrances, her food bowl, and the toy box before proceeding to the outside door leading to her lushly landscaped yard. Because she was demonstrating strange and abnormal behavior, I watched her from the landing.

Pearl Bailey sauntered down the steps and across the deck in a slow and creeping manner, and all at once I saw her pounce on a sizable lizard give it one chomp of her teeth and swallow it down in a gobble. Now, I have been witness to this penchant of hers before, but this morning it was a different story for no sooner than she guzzled down the first one, she took me by surprise and swooped down on another one! I swear I believe I saw the second one still wiggling as she threw back her head.

Now, fast forward to the Professor and me at breakfast, pleasantly seeped in morning conversation.  I brought up the topic of this unlikely event. That’s when the irony happened. The Professor, in his pragmatic tone, responded that our diva had eaten two lizards, as well, on their nightly before-bedtime walk. “What…”, I shrieked, “…why did you let her do that?” to which he replied, “Why did you?”. I guess he had me there.

This afternoon’s current position of Pearl Bailey finds her in a deep slumber, and when I tell you this queen is dreaming, I mean she is deep in REM. Her tail is flapping so hard it is pitching a rhythm on the wood floor. This leaves me to wonder if, in her dream, she is keeping count on some sort of Lizard scoreboard where the win is guaranteed or is she just contemplating her next between meal snack? Regardless, this dame is looking quite satisfied!

I am now sitting here wondering how many calories there are in lizards. Maybe I should be adjusting her kibble.

We have a winner! Yup, 24 hours is the winning bet for how long Pearl Bailey lasted before she deemed it fit to rub her gorgeous face in dirt! And yet, that is not the exasperating part…yes, there is more to report.

Here’s the story. Last night around 10:30 pm, I was thinking about having a little sweet nosh, so I went into the kitchen and selected a couple of Oreos. I returned to my seat to catch the evening news and only ate one of the two cookies. The other cookie I ignored as I became entrenched in the nightly broadcast. Shortly thereafter, I closed up shop and headed up for bed.

This morning after Pearl Bailey was out for her morning romp (and presumably to find a mask of her liking), she came in and mysteriously passed by her breakfast bowl to lounge in the living room. While I thought that was strange, I paid her no mind and went about busying myself with chores in the kitchen.

Around noon, I walked through the living room only to discover a Kleenex box ripped to smithereens. The room looked like a cumulus cloud exploded and rained down on the carpet. I shrieked with “What the what?!?” as Pearl Bailey laid there with an imperial look upon her dirty face. When I questioned her further, it was if she was chuckling inside. For a brief minute, I was about to blame poor Ella.

I went about cleaning up the mess and began contemplating on how this could have happened. Ah, that’s when I remembered about the COOKIE! So here is my synopsis…Pearl Bailey spyied the cookie on her way outside this morning. Upon her return to the hearth after donning her disguise, snuck into the Living Room and attempted to snatch the cookie. The cookie (being round) must have rolled into the Kleenex box where a very pissed off Pearl Bailey decided that was an unacceptable event and took it upon herself to destroy said vessel and unearth her rightful treat.

And that folks is why she is on restriction today. There will be no cookies for Pearl Bailey today OR tomorrow!

Courage is beautiful. Cupcakes for dinner is beautiful. Pearl Bailey when she is clean is beautiful.

I wanted to take this rare opportunity to post this magnificent photo of my diva straight home from the beauty parlor. I tell you, I was rather shocked when I picked her up, I mean, I thought…’is this the really MY dog? The same mangy stinkin’ varmint I dropped off three hours ago?’ Honestly folks, Pearl Bailey was a sight when I dropped her off. She was as raggedy as I have ever seen her. For God sakes, she had three inch long tuffs of hair growing from her paws. She had begun to resemble the Grinch on his worst day. Even her pelt was pitted with hunks of stuff – stuff like mulch and sticks and leaves. And her dirty face? Well, her face was embarrassing is all I can say.

Now, just look at this damsel. And, she smells heavenly, too. When I told her she was beautiful, she joined me up on the sofa tonight and I was content to share the cushions. She even allowed me to take her photo –photo ops are usually strictly forbidden. Either she was proud of her condition or just relaxed from the day at the spa. Either way, it was a Hallmark moment.

I’m taking wagers on how long she stays this way! Any one care to ante up?

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“Elegance is the only beauty that never fades.”

Audrey Hepburn

“Lookey here people, things are different now – I get that, but hey…that’s not always a bad thing. What is a bad thing is my people – the Professor and that writer he hangs around with, are out of control. And they won’t go away! I mean like, they are here day in and day out. Can a girl catch up break? How am I to instigate shenanigans with them always under foot? And the bellowing? Geez, if I hear one more time – STOP BARKING (directed at Ella because she is the mouth-piece of the organization) I think I will lose my mind. Now, understand…I am a good girl – I eat all my meals, I sit pretty for cookies, I am kind to everyone, I try to maintain a smile on my face at all times. Ok, I don’t come when I am called and alright…so I like to get a little dirty. You see, it’s a game out down in my Shangri-La between me and Merle (the squirrel of ill-repute). I figured out that if I disguise my pelt with a little camo he will most certainly trip up at some point and then it’s GAME OVER. So until then, I have to be cagey.

While I do not think this COVID sequestering is such a bad thing, I would like a little relief from the continuous monotony. And, about that beach a block away? Closed. Seriously, why is the beach closed when I could be there chasing the gulls. I guess someone forgot to tell the herons it was closed, because I heard ole’ Hank Heron squawking overhead this morning on his way to the beach. Totally unfair that he gets to hang out there, but I can’t.

Oh well, folks -thanks for listening. Sometimes you just have to get a few things off your chest. Appreciate you checking in!”

— Signed Pearl Bailey, the dog not the Jazz Singer

The always incorrigible Pearl Bailey has apparently missed the broadcast of the recommendations from the CDC to do her part in keeping everything clean and sanitized.

This is what I was greeted with this morning after she came in from her morning romp. No, it is not an optical illusion – she is filthy and she got that way in just under 15 minutes. We certainly can’t ‘flatten the curve’ as long as we have attitudes such as demonstrated here, now can we?

I’ve decided to write a letter of apology to the CDC expressing my failed efforts in thwarting her behavior and asking for their understanding in the matter. I hope they buy it.

I am a rule follower. Yes, I have a gypsy spirit but basically I vibe to order and routine. It has been tough being sequestered these past couple of weeks, I am as stir crazy as I am sure the most of you are, too.

Pearl Bailey and Ella have been elated with our new stay-home routine. In their opinion, having us home is a major improvement. I have been counseling with Pearl Bailey in an effort to try to keep things as clean as possible. Look, I mean, with all this togetherness I have a lot more on my plate than usual, do I really need to deal with a dirty dog, too?

As cultured and pedigreed as Miss Bailey is, she really is dumb when it comes to listening, or is she? When I called for her to come in this afternoon, I couldn’t really believe what I was seeing! Just look at the disguise she is wearing. Did she hear the television’s plea for donning a mask to guard against the plague? Or did she, ignoring the social distancing rule, hold a clandestine meeting in a gutter? Either way, she broke the rules! As she was coming up the steps, I heard her attitude loud and clear…

“Rules were made to be broken!”