just lay around and watch life’s rich pageant with bemused detachment.

That’s probably what Satcho’s doing right now, where ever he is. And laughing at your efforts to train Fenway.

Peace to you and yours, TBogg.

Losing a pup like the late great Satchmo just never leaves you, does it?
I’m still missing my beautiful Golden, Buck, everyday—and its been 5 years.
God Dog bless, guys.

He was the Dog of dogs, perfect in every way, and is greatly missed. If there is a heaven, I hope he climbs down from the big fancy ottoman, reserved specially for him, to greet us all.

Hats off to you, Satch.

Still miss my Ralph 5 years after the fact…

Have a poop on the lawn for your buddy! You know he’d do the same for you!

16 year old Jack the Dog and I have declared St. Satchmo Day our new favoritest holiday.

You should definitely poop on the lawn for St. Satchmo Day. It’s what he would have wanted.

A few weeks ago I had a dream about our Bean who died in January. In the dream he was happy, healthy, playful and beautiful … not arthritis-ridden, slow and in pain as he was in his last 6 months. I’m sure he was communicating with me from doggie heaven. We miss him every day.

PS. That is my favorite picture of Satchmo ever.

In honor of St. Satchmo Day, I will be sending Ernie the dachshund out to poop on the neighbor’s lawn.

I lost my boy, Buddy, back in May, three days before my birthday. He was 17 years old.

St. Satchmo Day is an excellent reason to take the day and reflect on our fuzzy friends.

To St. Satchmo. *clink*

Thanks for all that you were, Satchmo, even to those of us who never knew you personally. Gentle thoughts today to the TBogg household, both human and canine members.

My thoughts go out to all who have lost a furry companion on this, St. Satchmo Day. May we all meet up with them on the other side.

every time i come to check you out boggs i think of satchmo and the you tube video you posted with the women playing the theme from the deer hunter the day he died. i can’t count high enough to number the times i cried listening to it.

it was only an hour ago that i learned that the plane/helocopter crash over the hudson river a few days ago killed two of my childhood friends. i am numb.

its a fragile world. hold on on tightly to those you love.

Indeed it is. The two remaining fur children will be getting lots of pettings and scritches today…we also put the L&T Casey on the plane back to Hawaii for school. Tough day all around in Tboggville.

How old do you think I am? he said.
I said, well, I didnt know.
He said, I turned 65 about 11 months ago.

I was sittin in Miami pourin’ blended whiskey down
When this old gray black gentleman was cleanin up the lounge

There wasnt anyone around cept this old man and me
The guy who ran the bar was watchin Ironsides on TV
Uninvited, he sat down and opened up his mind
On old dogs and children and watermelon wine

Ever had a drink of watermelon wine? he asked
He told me all about it, though I didn’t answer back
Aint but three things in this world thats worth a solitary dime,
But old dogs and children and watermelon wine.

He said, women think about they-selves, when menfolk ain’t around.
And friends are hard to find when they discover that youre down.
He said, I tried it all when I was young and in my natural prime;
Now its old dogs and children and watermelon wine.

Old dogs care about you even when you make mistakes;
God bless little children while they’re still too young to hate.
When he moved away I found my pen and copied down that line
’bout old dogs and children and watermelon wine.

I had to catch a plane up to atlanta that next day
As I left for my room I saw him pickin up my change
That night I dreamed in peaceful sleep of shady summertime
Of old dogs and children and watermelon wine.

Watermelon Wine
Tom T. Hall

I wish I lived in Wasilla.

You know whose lawn I’d be heading to, doncha?

Both my dog Millie (mid-size pound dog, mostly pit-bull we think) and I will poop on the back lawn for Satchmo day. Then we’ll play fetch, forget where the poop is, and step in it. Just like any other day.

You, man and woman, live so long, it is hard
To think of you ever dying
A little dog would get tired, living so long.
I hope than when you are lying

Under the ground like me your lives will appear
As good and joyful as mine.
No, dear, that’s too much hope: you are not so well cared for
As I have been.

And never have known the passionate undivided
Fidelities that I knew.
Your minds are perhaps too active, too many-sided. . . .
But to me you were true.

You were never masters, but friends. I was your friend.
I loved you well, and was loved. Deep love endures
To the end and far past the end. If this is my end,
I am not lonely. I am not afraid. I am still yours.

by Robinson Jeffers written about 1944
To Satchmo and all his new friends at Rainbow Bridge
May they all pee on the post and poop on the deck, then play in the yard

I’ll do the mavericky thing and take myself and the 4 legged ones in my family to two of John Mccain’s seven houses and poop on the lawn. Maybe he’ll be there to tell me to get off the lawn.

Steppin’ back in gaze adoringly at the lovely sad eyes that were never sad and to smooch the pawcakes that made every Thursday special.

Satch would have been beguiling in a hijab. It’s the eyes.

RIP, St Satchmo.
(((((Bogg Family, 2-feet and 4-feet)))))

FunnyWheelieDiva

To the dogs! *clink*

hugs and kisses to you all

Great commemorative image. Satch was my image of Enzo when reading “The Art of Racing in the Rain”.

Spend the day wallowing in peace and love with the boys.

I lost Winston 31 years ago, Sidney 19 years ago, Jenny 12 years ago. No pets since because of landlord and space restrictions. Still miss them all. Thanks for reminding me.

Hank the Boxer and I will keep you in our thoughts tonight. We may even step out and poop on the lawn. (well, I know he will)

I’d always been a dog guy. Still love ‘em.

Then, a long, long time ago, a feral cat wandered into my life. At times, I’ve been denied housing because of her furry little ass. She has cost me additional bucks the other times I did find a place. But as I said, she’s getting old. And one of these days, all too soon, I’ll begin missing her company.

Thanks for bringing that cheerful thought into focus, TBogg.

You’re going to die one of these days, too.

A close friend had to send his good old dog on her journey today. And then I come here and see that it is St. Satchmo Day. I hope Satch greets Yasha at the rainbow bridge and shows her around the place since she’s newly arrived and all; he’d be the best tour guide of all.

guess that is the quintessential Satchmo for most of us here although I also love the howling on the stairs shots

I’ve clicked on this pic four times today, I really do miss him. hope everyone at Casa TBogg had a good day.

(((scritching Satchmo ears))) Now I’m going to catch hell from the cats for paying homage to a dog… But Satchmo’s worth it.

“A really companionable and indispensable dog is an accident of nature. You can’t get it by breeding for it, and you can’t buy it with money. It just happens along.” – E.B. White

As I have said in the past…thank you all for understanding what a special dog our Satchmo was. And to all of you sharing our sorrow and loss of one of your own, I do believe that we will ALL be reunited on the other side. StringonaStick…Yasha is in good paws…I can feel it.

Oh, and the non-fur puppy is on the ground in Hawaii and on her way to her off-campus housing with her first soccer meeting and practice tomorrow. All is well in the universe…human and canine. Can’t help on the feline side…I’m just not a cat person.

Between you and John Cole I’m jonesing for a dog.

However, I will be content with my kitties. St Satchmo is for all critters, so we will, my kitties and I, pay him homage with some seriously reverent snuggles.

guess that is the quintessential Satchmo for most of us here although I also love the howling on the stairs shots

I must have missed those, WOULD LOVE TO SEE THEM. *hint hint* for a future Thursday.

Thinking of St. Satchmo today. Ernie, my corgi/shepherd/WTF mix, had a good long frolic at the dog park in his honor.

Mostly a lurker, but I wanted to say thank you for sharing the beloveds with us. I think Queen Joyce Katchaturian and Langston Hughes the Main Coon are play-stalking St. Satchmo now, right near the Bridge, in that field of lavender that tickles their noses, makes all the 4-leggeds sneeze, and is, nonetheless, divine.

A year ago, I was sitting in the office crying for Satch, a fact I couldn’t have admitted. Today, same office, same tears. This year they’re also for Big Jim, who joined the other boys who defeated fascism at Fort Sam Houston for a well-deserved rest last week. But they’re still for Satch too, and for every other transitory source of love.

He does have a very medieval-martyr aspect to him in that photo; Cimabue would have kicked entire colonies’ worth of lepers out of his way to paint him.

My granddaughter & I decided for beagle Jumper’s 3rd birthday we should pin it down to one specific day in August. She chose 8/11 (last of the Dog Days) over 8/16 (St. Roch’s Day, the patron saint of dogs). So she still chose a saint’s day (& also the widely considered birthday of hip-hop).

God bless & keep St. Satchmo.