The Rip Van Wrinkler, XXV, Issue 3, August 2021

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F U N N Y B O Y D O G S ! ! !

Yvonne 't Mannetje
Couch is upside down for cleaning, and where do I find Moyo ....


Ashley Lorin
Thought I’d share the Ivan goofiness of the morning.
I was rubbing him on the chest, back, and shoulders (his fave spots), and he was in yoga sit rolled back on his butt
and back legs sticking up. He apparently enjoyed it so much he just toppled over and stayed like this for a bit.

I don’t think I can call this one yoga pose. Maybe just pretzel pose.



Tank! Hodges


Mark your calendars!

Tailgate Luncheon/Meeting, Saturday, August 14th, after Basenji judging,
Southern Adirondack Dog Club, Inc., in Ballston Spa, NY.

The Wrinkler is published quarterly:  February, May, August & November. 
Deadline for receiving material for publication is the 1st day of the previous month.

The contents of The Rip Van Wrinkler do not necessarily represent the opinions of the editors, or the membership.  
All rights to reproduce any part of The Rip Van Wrinkler® shall be done solely with the permission of the editors.

The RVW Club is affiliated with the BCOA

The Rip Van Wrinkle Basenji Club & Wrinkler ONLINE: www.rvwbasenjiclub.org


As the Tail Turns:


Apu Go Joe and Apu Fender Stratocaster, both 16+, in their last spring.

Read this, then go hug your dog(s), throw a ball, or go for a walk...

I Am Your Dog.

I am your dog, and I have a little something I'd like to whisper in your ear. I know that you humans lead busy lives.
Some have to work, some have children to raise. It always seems like you are running here and there, often much too fast, often never noticing the truly grand things in life. Look down at me now, while you sit there at your computer. See the way my dark brown eyes look at yours? They are slightly cloudy now. That comes with age. The gray hairs are beginning to ring my soft muzzle.

You smile at me; I see love in your eyes. What do you see in mine? Do you see a spirit? A soul inside, who loves you as no other could in the world? A spirit that would forgive all trespasses of prior wrong doing for just a simple moment of your time? That is all I ask. To slow down, if even for a few minutes to be with me. So many times you have been saddened by the words you read on that screen, of other of my kind, passing. Sometimes we die young and oh so quickly, sometimes so suddenly it wrenches your heart out of your throat. Sometimes, we age so slowly before your eyes that you may not even seem to know until the very end, when we look at you with grizzled muzzles and cataract clouded eyes. Still the love is always there, even when we must take that long sleep, to run free in a distant land.

I may not be here tomorrow; I may not be here next week. Someday you will shed the water from your eyes, that humans have when deep grief fills their souls, and you will be angry at yourself that you did not have just "One more day" with me. Because I love you so, your sorrow touches my spirit and grieves me. We have NOW, together. So come, sit down here next to me on the floor, and look deep into my eyes. What do you see? If you look hard and deep enough we will talk, you and I, heart to heart. Come to me not as "alpha" or as "trainer" or even "Mom or Dad," come to me as a living soul and stroke my fur and let us look deep into one another's eyes, and talk.

I may tell you something about the fun of chasing a tennis ball, or I may tell you something profound about myself, or even life in general. You decided to have me in your life because you wanted a soul to share such things with. Someone very different from you, and here I am. I am a dog, but I am alive. I feel emotion, I feel physical senses, and I can revel in the differences of our spirits and souls. I do not think of you as a "Dog on two feet" -- I know what you are. You are human, in all your quirkiness, and I love you still.

Now, come sit with me, on the floor. Enter my world, and let time slow down if only for 15 minutes. Look deep into my eyes, and whisper to my ears. Speak with your heart, with your joy and I will know your true self. We may not have tomorrow, and life is oh so very short.

Author Unknown

©2002, Susan Kamen Marsicano - "Inverno, Sempre Moot and Selket".


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