Tag Archives: cats

PW Weekend: Charlie lets his hair down

After my disappointing photo shoot with Charlie on Saturday morning, he decided to come back . . . two more times.

He ambled into the Lodge halfway through our baking extravaganza, and a friend of Ree’s family tried to help me get a good shot. For the life of me I can’t remember her name . . . can anyone else?? She was such a lovely person and I totally want to check out her blog, but all I can remember is that it may have the word ‘ranch’ or ‘horse’ in it. Maybe. I can’t be sure of anything anymore.

Get your stinky hands off me, you weird lookin’ human.

“Look at the camera, Charlie!” I encouraged him a bright, cheerful voice.

“Right over here, Charlie!”

“No Charlie, look at the camera! Up here little buddy! C’mon!” I persisted.

“Charlie! I’m a human and you’re a dog! You’re supposed to obey me!”

I’m sorry, did you just say something?

So I gave up on the head shot and photographed his short and stubby legs instead.

I don’t see how he even gets around on those things.

After a while, Ree mopped the floor with him, and then he was outta there.

However, he returned Sunday morning before we headed out. Why aren’t you guys gone yet? he grumbled woefully. I’m tired of playing this gracious host role. The laundry alone will take me days! Ooh, is that a cat butt?

Your butt smells kinda good.

What kind of cologne do you use?


A couple dogs looked on with indifference.

I think the golden dog’s name is George.

All of a sudden, without warning, Charlie decided to stop playing Mr. nice guy.

I’m the king around here, he growled, and you guys just need to clear out once and for all.

He started attacking animals left and right.

And by ‘animals,’ I mostly mean George. George was completely unphased.

“George!” I cried “C’mon, you gotta defend yourself! Don’t let Charlie chomp on you!”

Don’t worry honey, he said as Charlie launched his weird oblong little body at George’s golden hide.

I appreciate your concern, but I take this kind of abuse every day.

George was starting to get bored with the whole thing, and eventually wandered off.

Charlie turned his attentions elsewhere.

This dog wasn’t going down without a fight.

George ambled back to try and mediate.

But even George couldn’t tame Charlie’s fighting fury.

George and I looked on from a safe distance.

This final photo shoot made the brown and purple bruise on my left knee worth every bit of swelling.

Winthrop and Nelson, however, were unimpressed.

PW Weekend: Charlie the basset hound will not pose

Charlie, oh Charlie. I was so excited to meet him on my weekend trip the the Pioneer Woman’s ranch. I’ve been reading about his capers on Ree’s website for over a year now, so in my book Charlie has an all-out celebrity status. When Christy, one of the other lovely guests, came running up and said “Jenna, Charlie is outside right now!” I went into a hysterical fit and made a mad dash to get my camera.

Why my camera was in my room and not around my neck, I cannot explain.

As I ran down the hallway to the room I shared with my Mom, my socks piped up “Hey, guess what you forgot? We have no traction on these smooth wooden floors!” As my purple and red argyle footwear betrayed me and I klafumped onto the floor, I thought Charlie, you’d better make it worth my while.

Limping outside to the tune of a large bruise quickly entering its yellowish brownish development stage, I found Charlie.

He was lolling about in the sun as Ree’s youngest daughter played with his soft, floppy ears.

The sun was pretty bright and there were harsh shadows (not so good for photography), so I told myself I’ll just come back a little later. Plus, maybe by then Charlie will gather his strength and actually move about. Sure enough, a little while later I spotted Charlie through the window and seized the photographic opportunity.

He was sitting on the edge of the hill, looking noble.

As he heard my limping self get closer, he turned and gave me one long, mournful look.

Goodbye forever, he said, and promptly took off.

A roll of fat slomped from side to side as he ran.

But Charlie! I just sustained a severe bodily injury for your sake! Come back and pose for me!

However, Charlie would hear naught.

Come back tomorrow to hear the outcome. Did I injure Charlie in a tit for tat all-out ranch-style animal on human fight? Did he simply disappear out of my life forevermore? Or did we make ammends and become BFF’s?

In the meantime, here are the kitties again. They were so much more compliant when I descended on them with my camera. I think I’ll call them Nelson and Winthrop.

To be continued . . .