I promised you recently that I would tell you about another Elsa, not the Adamson’s lioness, but a gentle huge lady I met a few months ago.

I really like our new neighbors and their critters. The woman calls me Basquiat Bear, it makes me feel grand! Like those great beasts who hunt for salmon up in the Northwest on the Copper River.

Then, we have those cute ones, in Australia, who eat Eucalyptus leaves and otherwise sleep all day, high in the tree branches. No. Not me! Although I might sleep much more nowadays then when I was a crisp youngster, there’s no way I’d climb up a tree. After all, I have wood to conquer in my home, but it’s reachable with one step and I’m on my humans’ warm and cozy bed.

The new next-door (that is actually several hundreds of trees away from our door) people moved in with three huge dogs and one cat. Now, a few months later the family expanded to another cat, who’s oddly named after the character played by Ralph Finnes in the Harry Potter series, the actor who—in my Female’s mind—is impersonated as The English Patient. Period!

Most wonderful, in August there will be a freshling human, too. My Female will be eager to hold and “verbäbele” the new baby. That term would be used by the Lucerne–Swiss in the equivalent sense of “spoil rotten” in plain English! Do you detect the word similarity to my sometimes annoying big sister’s name? Bäbele—Annebäbi? Hm …

Fact is, for once, this much younger couple isn’t intimidated by age, including me, Methuselah (in dog years I now have reached the same age as my Female). Elderly is one of the dreaded definitions, we hate to be branded with. We are not alone. Actresses undergo horrible deformations as soon as they reach their thirties to look younger. Career oriented men don rags resembling half-digested carcasses on their head. Look at a presidential candidate who, by his looks plus his lack of manners, seems to become a favorite of the not so smart innocents.

The young couple went to an out-of-town family affair this weekend, leaving their pack in the hands of a gentle woman, a coworker of the woman neighbor. Things must have gone well until Saturday morning, when the sitter let the gang out into the fenced backyard while she proceeded with her morning toilette.

Around 9:30 AM our phone rang: ELSA IS MISSING!

Amazing how fast my Female can jump out of bed, if it comes to a dog emergency. While the Wolfman searched the ridge with Annebäbi, the Female jumped into the dog car, shouting “Elsa” in German.

The lovely women of Indian and Portugese descent was close to a heart attack, ready to interrupt a wedding ceremony in New Jersey. The Female managed to calm her down momentarily and took off to a detour around the woods where they live. Despite stopping at every barking sound, she didn’t spot the gorgeous, docile pit pull. Only when she turned around at the dead end on the other side of the property, she heard two Shepard dogs going crazy in the yard adjacent to their driveway.
Sure enough, hidden between two houses was Elsa. At first, she was shying away from the car, but when the Female got out and the frightened dog could see her, she approached eagerly and jumped through the drivers door into the vehicle licking the Female’s hand.

Happy End.

Basquiat

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