Lord have mercy: what is going on? I’m told that my previous chronicling of my arrival up North created quite a fuss. And I’ve been asked innumerable times when will I meander back to the computer to update my fans on my life and latest adventures.
So, here goes, “HI Y’ALL, this ain’t Miss Paula Dean from down Savannah way. This here is Miss V, otherwise known as Miss Violet Annabelle Rose Von Schnorkenheimer, of Westport, CT.
I realize that this update is long overdue and you all must excuse me for leaving you high and dry. Life if good up here and I reached the ripe old age of two this past December. Actually, I’m quite lovely and in six months I would have been a debutante if I had stayed down South. Rest assured, however, that my Daddy will make every attempt to ensure that I am properly introduced to society.
I have grown quite a bit since we last met and I must say, now that I’m full grown, I simply must start to watch my waistline. Daddy does a good job of trying to keep me slim and trim by feeding me a healthy diet, healthy treats and throwing my ball, which I am absolutely addicted to. If you can throw it, I will fetch it.
Last September I spent a glorious month in Southampton. Daddy rented a nice old house and we had guests every weekend. One weekend, one of my favorite peeps came to stay to celebrate her birthday. We went to the beach every day where she threw the ball for me all day long. I ran up the beach and down the beach and made lots of new friends. Everyone thought I was just divine. Truth be told, I just about wore my little self out chasing the balls and the birds.
Next day, Daddy was horrified. I had eaten so much sand that I was pooping it. Lord have mercy! I couldn’t believe it either. But you know what? I’d do it all over again”_that’s how much I love to fetch. I feel so free when I’m running on the beach”_no clothes, no jewelry”_completely free as God intended me to be.
Y’all know my Daddy. Soon as I got home, I got a quick rinse and then on went one of the many beautiful diamond necklaces he has bought me. He buys me one every time we go somewhere. Ain’t that just the cats’ meow? I know”_I love it too! Daddy loves bling and I must confess, I have learned to feel right at home, stylishly adorned as I am. Besides, he’s so proud of me and it makes him happy. And gosh darn, he loves me so, so, much that if my wearing a little bling makes him happy”_.what the heck! It’s the least I can do.
Truth is, as much as I love my jewels, I do not fancy clothes. They are entirely too restricting. Daddy tries so hard to find me outfits that I will like for the cold weather, but I do declare, I am very hard to please in this department. It’s just a tight and irritating overdone petticoat as far as I’m concerned. I’d rather freeze than wear those ghastly coats and itchy sweaters. From time to time, however, as reluctant as I am to relinquish, I do sport a sweater or quilted coat. Daddy insists that it just ain’t fitt’in for me to go outside in this weather improperly dressed. He’s a Taurus you know and they can be quite stubborn. Daddy laughs at the faces I make when he attempts to dress me. Good grief! What I don’t do to make that man happy!
It has taken some time but I have finally come to grips with this, please excuse my French, hellish weather up here in Yankee Land. I do my best to cope, but Lord have mercy on my soul, do I hate to go out in the snow. I would prefer an attack of the vapors compared to this chilling ice and snow. It’s so cold on my little “feets” and lately, it’s been piling up everywhere. There’s no decent place for a girl to have some privacy.
Daddy does his best to clear a path for me, but it’s always so darn close to a door or a window. What kind of privacy is that? Everyone can see me. But heck, it’s so darn cold outside that I just take care of business as fast as I can and get back in the house and onto my Daddy’s warm lap. Here, cuddled under a fabulous throw, I can while away the hours blissfully reminiscing about yonder plantation across the Sound and those sunny days frolicking on the beach.
Over the past two years, I have learned to embrace my new plantation home with its’ new smells and the multitude of fragrances from Daddy’s many rose bushes. Not quite the magnolia and gardenia from my hometown, but fiddle de de and la de da, I have actually come to prefer it. I left so soon after my birth that I have only a faint recollection anyhow. Daddy plays in the dirt while I sit close by, gazing in amazement at the beauty of his creations. I’m never very far from him and as soon as he’s done, he picks me up and carries me to the hammock where we nap in the shade garden under a 15-year-old crabapple tree. I rest my little head on his chest and doze into a wonderful doggie world, complete with toys, treats, rolling hills and of course, the beach. I love this man more than I can say. I feel so safe and lucky to have found a home filled with so much love.
I do work a bit from time to time and find myself rewarded with more delightful treats and accessories. I am truly blessed I tell you and have everything a Southern belle could ever want or need”_. love, adoration, a beautiful home, and a good life.
I adore my life with Mar. Who wouldn’t with the endless tummy rubs and oh so many kisses? Boy, can he kiss! I just love to kiss him back. Did I miss something? Anyhoo, truth be told, I’ll kiss just about anybody. Daddy is very patient and generous and lets me kiss whomever I please. Not to worry, I am somewhat selective you know. A girl can’t be too careful these days.
My life is full. I travel, I eat well, sometimes too well as my knickers continually need to be replaced. I am Daddy’s little girl and not one day goes by that I don’t count my lucky stars. I feel like the most loved and cared for little girl on planet Mar’s.
Want to know how special I am to my Daddy? Recently he commissioned a painting of me by Lacey Fisher, a local artist in the area. Imagine that! I know I have arrived cause Daddy’s previous love, Corky, got a painting too. Now it’s my turn. You see, my Daddy is funny that way. He never waits for tomorrow. Life is so short, he says and we must live every day to the fullest. He refuses to let it be “gone with the wind”. I agree”_..waiting for tomorrow is ruff, ruff.