July 2002
M of Apu,
a Basenji from Woodstock, New York writes:My Dear Comradeness Diva,
I am M, a four year old female Basenji, living in the Catskills Mountains of upstate New York. It has been said, much to the annoyance of my maidservant, that we live in a hut in the woods. Sue, my maidservant, says it is: "Indeed a very fancy hut." The woods are so green they are like a velvet curtain during the summer.
I like all my pack members here, so long as they allow me to 'sit on top of the pile', so-to-speak, which, you of all canines, would understand, my Comradeness. We all sleep with the maidservant on the bed, under the covers. I lick the tip of her nose if the covers move during the night and I am left uncovered. This will wake-up the maidservant so that she'll lift the covers to let me back in. I have her well trained! I have taught the other Basenjis here to lick her nose during the night too. The others here are the two youngsters, Occhi and SanderElla; my mother, Calliope, who's nine; Trill and Hip Hop are seven year old siblings; and then there is Niner, 14, who's even smarter than me. Niner is named after Joe Montana of the San Francisco 49-ers because my nutty human likes football.
Niner even has pom-poms. Which leads me to another favorite
pastime of my wacky human; she creative and when she's not painting portraits of
us Basenjis, she loves to make costumes and dress us up for the annual Basenji Match
(www.basenji.org/wrinkle/),
which must be much like your annual Borzoi Match where many of the borzeys wear Halloween
costumes and compete to see who is the fairest of them all. As you can see from this
photo, my creative maidservant has costumed me as: "Madame Basenji-fly"...
I have thought carefully about my question to you, my brother, Laser (November 2001), who lives in New Jersey with Queen Selket, (who has written to the Diva many times) sent me a very braggy letter about how he enjoyed his walks, here is a translation for your Wiseness:
Laser writes: I'm walking along, I pee on a bush that had a kitty in it, then I come to a yard with a Welsh Corgi, and I pee on his fence, then I fence fight to tease the Corgi and make him woof, as we Basenji are un-woofs. This is fun, and then I poop. I'm so pleased I kickadigga... (which means he kicks up the earth).
I cannot have much fun these days because I cannot do any productive kickadigging after pooping because here in the Catskills the ground is bluestone; my yard is like a quarry of stone upon stone... Wildflowers and all loveliness, but no digging and no kicking. What do you suggest?
Your pal with the donut tail,
M of Apu
Dear Baroness M of Apu,
You did not mention a title, but if you are of any relation to Queen Selket, you certainly must be some kind of royal diva. Perhaps you are too stressed from not being able to mark the grounds of your dacha so that you have forgotten to properly introduce yourself? Hmmm? Certainly with all those snarky, cinnamon bun-tailed canines running about, one would surely want to leave one's signature!
When
the Diva walks the Royal Hunting Grounds each morning, she not only lifts her illustrious
Fluffer-nutter and/or her most gorgeous borzey hindleg when she anoints the ground,
so-to-speak, but after the Czarina leaves a non-fluid cadeau, I just adore slashing
the ground, usually with all four footers at once, so that I spring into the air
while the earth, grass, leaves, and whatever else has had the misfortune to lay beneath
my royal footers, is thrown into the air! The wonderful combination of depositing
a poopie and then scraping my footer scent deep into the earth is so intoxicating
that I leap into the air and race about while my servants watch my beauty in total
ecstasy. Ahhh yes, one must be generous and share one's splendor with the laggardly
bipeds.If you can't perform 'kickadigga' around the dacha, then tell the maidservant to put down those paintbrushes and get out the carriage, so that she can take you for a walk in a park or the woods. If trees are growing around your dacha, there must be some patches of earth somewhere so that you can dig your tiny, nearly-naked Basenji footers into the ground and kick-up your heels. And, please tell that bratty Laser that he shouldn't tease you, after all it's enough that you have to share your dacha with a goofy human but also a veritable pack of canines who like to amuse themselves by baroo-roo-rooing at falling leaves... It's no wonder you're stressed with all that noise! Baroness M, you need a porcelain palace, a place to meditate on the cosmos, une chambre pour la reve. But then again, having almost no fur, you'd have to get the biped to wrap you in an Eskimo costume otherwise you'd freeze your donut-tailed tush off on the porcelain tiles... Perhaps a snugly dog bed underneath a large writing desk would do?
As for vêtements, other than the Royal Tiara, the Goddess of All Worldly Beauty does not need to be adored with clothes. First of all one can't improve upon perfection, and secondly, unlike you naked snarkers, the Diva Dog has a luxurious coat, in fact, we borzeys have two coats, so we don't need clothes and wouldn't dream about sleeping under the covers, c'est tros chaud! Please inform Sue that if she wants true artistic inspiration, the Czarina is ready to sit for her royal portrait. J'attends!
Salut,
Oksana of MuffinTush
General
Ciar a Deerhound from Ann Arbor, Michigan writes again:Dear Czarinni,
The Squirrel High Command continues to probe our defenses here at Castle CuNeve. They tried a stealth insurgency; Mr. Rat paid a visit to the royal garden yesterday... he met the same fate as Mrs. Squirrel. Crunch... crunch and that was that.
I have an important victory to report to all the squirrel patrollers... Late one night, a feeling of suspicion came over me. My royal consort, Blitz said, "Go back to sleep," but I alerted our human to open the castle door so that I could investigate. I turned the corner to check out the royal garden and there right by the gate was a fat, old possum. I looked down on him and said, "You bad ole' possum!" He looked up at me and said, "It's the Queen of Tipperary! I had better get my possum butt out of here!" Too late fat, old, slow, stupid possum. Crunch... crunch... The possum night raider was quickly dispatched. Here is a tip on dispatching possums: make sure to chew up and down their backs and break every vertebrae in the spine. They are tricky and like to play dead, when they are not.
It seems that the Squirrel High Command has enlisted the help of possums to expand their insurgency into the night time hours, so beware patrollers. Be sure to get your humans up once per night, so that you can patrol the royal garden for these night time invaders, less they steal your toys and raid your larder of cheese and other sighthound goodies. Poor, big Blitz
(March 2002) was very concerned about the potential loss of our cheese, dear Czarinni.
I think I should give a stalking lesson or two at this point, since I have perfected the art of stalking the Enemy. When Herr Squirrel enters your royal garden, one must assess the situation. Ascertain the distance to his escape and your distance from him. Keep your eyes locked on your target (Herr Squirrel) and slowly move towards him. Move when he moves and stop when he stops. When your have equaled the distance from yourself to the target and the target to the escape, make your rush. Next lesson: The Kill.
Keep a look out squirrel patrollers, these varmints will stop at nothing.
General Cira
Dear Ciar of Banrigh,
Please tell Blitz not to worry... the Diva can always send him a good English stilton, should the Nefarious Rodent steal all your cheese.
The possums that dwell near the Summer Palace are as large as Basset Hounds and as fierce as badgers; one even hisses and stares down my valet! Ciar, you would certainly need Blitz's assistance in dispatching these possums.
Rather than stalking and charging, due to the heat, I have perfected the art of stalking and laying underneath a maple tree and waiting for the Crunchy Dummy to mistake my black and white Irish markings for leaf patterns upon Mother Earth. When the Rodent from Hades slithers down the tree and frolics across the lawn, I find that I can chomp him without exerting myself. If the Furry Cookie is willing to waddle into my gleaming chompers, why should I question his bad sense of direction? Tra-la-la-la!
Ciar, get your valet Bradley to get busy in the kitchen, a diva like you deserves some more refined cuisine. Here's a favorite recipe of mine:
Grilled Rosemary-Pecan Possum
1/4 cup pecans, roasted and roughly chopped
1/2 teaspoon rosemary, finely chopped
1 big de-boned possum, washed and dried
2 tablespoons virgin olive oil
Mix the pecans and rosemary together. Stuff the cavity of the possum with the mixture. Have your valet grill it on the barbeque for 5 minutes per side.
While the possum is grilling, order your valet to drizzle the possum with olive oil, and again immediately after taking the cooked possum off of the grill. Allow the prey to cool to room temperature before serving to the drooling canine. Yum-yum!
Until then, the Stealth Muffin awaits your next missive.
Bon appétit!
Oksana
Hunter Goddess
Brottie a
Terrier-mix from Kenosha, Wisconsin writes:Dear Czarina Oksana,
I got sprayed by a skunk and my human has tried everything to make me smell better, a tomato paste bath and even special shampoos, but I still smell terrible. She won't let me sleep on the bed with her, so I have to sleep in my dog bed, which isn't so bad, but the cat wants to share it with me!
What does my human need to do to make me smell good again? I still smell skunky, and I want them to like my smell again.
Awaiting your wisdom,
Brottie
Dear Brottie,
Skunk, hmmm. Yes, skunks are one of those animals that must be dispatched by a duo of dogs and usually one of the duo is still going to get sprayed with a most musty odor anyway. For some reason, your persnickety bipeds have decided they don't like this odor... Skunk certainly smells better than tomato paste! Or perfumed shampoos! From what the Diva has learned, it's not tomato paste but tomato juice that stops the skunk smell! Perhaps that is why the tomato bath did not work. Tell your silly human that if she gives you too many shampoos she will wash away all the oils from your skin and that will make your skin dry and itchy. The skunk smell will go away eventually, she needs to be patient.
As for the human bed, I suggest going up on it when she is not there, in that way you can leave your new scent on the bed, while she's sleeping she'll smell it all night long, get used to it and one night she'll surprise you by inviting you to share the bed! Rolling on your back, waving your fluffer-nutter, exposing your pink belly and looking all adorable can be quite persuasive in getting you an invite onto the human bed. From the looks of you, the Czarina thinks you are quite adept at looking cute.
In the interim, just because you smell like a skunk instead of dog doesn't mean the cat gets to sleep in your bed! Give the feline a good chomp and let him know that you are still a canine.
Good luck,
Czarina of MuffinTush
Until next month canine fans de tout le monde, I await your letters with a great
wave of my glorious Fluffer-Nutter,
Oksana of MuffinTush
Please
tell your stupid humans that the noble Czarina only responds to questions from canines
(and other creatures) NOT humans. The Diva does not reply to medical or serious human
concerns; ask your veterinarian. For the non-humans, just use the Question Submission Form and I will be happy to respond
in my monthly column: "Ask Oksana".
P.S. Don't forget to send me a picture of yourself and to tell me where you live!
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