Grateful Monday

I am always grateful for these two cute dogs—even when they eat my shoes.

I got to give Milam Touch of Love a check to cover buying materials for the new dog run at the City of Cameron pound. Photo by Suna

Harvey and Suna both love to sing, and I enjoy listening to them.

A big black dog

Little too much gray around the muzzle

A big black dog

Why she ended up at the pound is a puzzle

—Emmylou Harris and Will Jennings

This week is another of those that prove the need to cherish the things that don’t go to plan as much as those that do. Everything you experience goes how you want it to, benefits you or your community in unexpected ways, or teaches you something that will make you a better person going forward.

Sarita snags … again.

The Sarita sale keeps hitting snag after snag. On Friday, the title company called for payoff so they could complete the settlement statement. The mortgage company “couldn’t find the loan.” By the time this snag was resolved, it was too late to finish the statement today. They can finish it on Monday, but FHA requires three days to review it. That would put closing on Thanksgiving Day. Looks like next Monday will be the earliest we can close.

The incompetence of title companies and mortgage companies is outside of my control. I’m doing better at accepting this reality. The Realtor® helping us with the sale thanked me for “being so patient.”

Better living through chemistry. Right? Not so much. I’m grateful to be learning to focus on what I can affect.

Cars are expensive!

Through a series of decisions, we now own three cars that need to be inspected, licensed, and maintained in November. This year, I failed to set up a reserve to handle this expense. So of course, my car needed thousands of dollars in repairs.

The timing is set and can’t be changed unless I trade vehicles. The lack of reserves is something I can correct, and I will.

I am grateful I had more than enough set back in the family’s general reserve account to cover the combined expense.

Tractor Supply rocks!

Suna and I went to the Herne Tractor Supply to buy things for the horses. While we were there, we got to talking with a really nice guy who turned out to be the store manager … at least, until January sometime.

He helped us find all the materials we need to build a big dog run for the City of Cameron’s pound. Now that we know where to find all the materials, Hearts, Homes, and Hands cut a check to Milam Touch of Love, the charity that supports pounds and animal rescues in Milam County, to cover the expense. Next week, we will go pick up all the materials, and my nephew Chris has promised to help put the run together over the Thanksgiving weekend.

I am so grateful we could help further the work of MToL and help take care of the lovely animals who end up in the Cameron pound.

We Occasionally Get to Kick Back

I am so pleased with how good a dog Brody is turning out to be. His loyalty is beyond question. Photo by: Suna

Suna enjoys a cold, funny-flavored Shiner. I prefer beer that tastes like beer.

Brody and Harvey pretend to be so ferocious. They play like predators.

After the stresses of the last week—the floods, worrying about if any of our projects were damaged in the storms (They weren’t.), and keeping up with life in general, it’s nice to be able to take a few minutes to relax and enjoy ourselves. So that is exactly what we did.

Suna and I sat on the back porch at the ranch and enjoyed the natural beauty around us. We enjoyed each other’s company. Oh, yeah. A few adult beverages were involved in the enjoyment, too.

The dogs enjoyed being able to get out and have fun. Brody and Harvey act like human brothers. They play hard. They beat each other bloody, although they are very careful not to really hurt each other. Then they curl up for a nap together. I love watching them, and they are such good companions.

Dogs and Doors

Harvey can’t believe Brody would attack my foot. Rose watches Harvey.

The garage provides enough space to stain all the doors and let them dry.
The stain on the doors matches the bookcases and trim in Suna’s office. It contrasts well with the green walls.

It’s a tug of war.

We expected more.

But with one thing and another,

We were trying to outdo each other.

—Paul McCartney

Rose and Brody have accepted Harvey. Rose is so easy going, she was never at question. I was more concerned with how the two mail adolescents would get along.

Brody, who has been with me since he was six weeks old, is comfortable enough with me to use me as chew toys—especially my socks...especially when they’re still on my feet. Harvey looks on in disbelief every time. Sometimes he looks at me as if to say, “I would never treat you like that, New Daddy.”

Doors

The painter lined up the new doors in the garage to stain. They looked almost like they were floating if you ignored the bits of wood at the top and bottom that held them together.

The garage made the perfect place to stain the doors. It had plenty of room to work, and it didn’t matter if the overspray hit the floor or the walls, not that there seemed to be that much overspray. Finally, leaving the doors open a bit provided plenty of airflow to encourage drying.

Once the stain dried, it is a perfect match for the bookcases and trim installed throughout the house. It stands out nicely against the green Suna chose for her office. It’s darker than the caucasian color of the downstairs, but it may be a bit too close of a match for the bamboo we installed upstairs. It does stand out somewhat against the chocolate color of the master bedroom and the orange of the master bath.

 

A New Harvey

Sara pets Harvey at the Annex
“What’s that other dog doing over there. He looks nice.”

“Thank you for feeding me. Will you be my new daddy?”
You can see the poor boy’s ribs through his coat from the front. There are also two wounds on his side where he was either shot or impaled by something.
I don’t know how anybody could abandon such a sweet boy to starve to death. There must have been something serious going on in their life.

That’s just the way it is

Some things will never change

That’s just the way it is

Ah, but don’t you believe them

—Bruce Hornsby

When we went to our friend Janet’s house for Thanksgiving, our neighbors were there, too. Ralph and Sara told Suna and me about this dog someone had dumped at the Rattlesnake Annex.

People dump dogs in the country all the time. I guess they think the dogs can survive by hunting or something. But most abandoned dogs are shot when they try to get at someone’s livestock or chickens. Almost all of the others starve to death because they have to learn how to hunt. If they’re abandoned, they don’t have time to learn before they starve. Only a few get rescued.

I didn’t think too much about another abandoned dog. Ralph or someone would probably put him out of his misery before he suffered too much. So I was surprised when Ralph called this morning to tell me I needed to “come get this dog.” He was still at the Annex, and Ralph had apparently been feeding him enough scraps to keep him going. Ralph explained, “He waits at the gate everyday for his people to come back and get him. He only leaves long enough to find some water or maybe a little to eat.” Ralph said the dog was understandably shy and hard to get close to. It had taken him a couple of weeks to get him to take food without waiting for Ralph to leave.

When I pulled up at the Annex, Sara was petting him. They had given him a bone with some meat on it to chew. I talked to them a bit. When he saw me leaving, he walked calmly to the car. When I opened the door, he jumped in, crawled into the passenger seat, and sat down looking at me like he was trying to say, “Okay. Let’s go home now.”

I took him home, and Brody accepted him without question. Suna calls him Harvey. Or Starvey Harvey because he’s so starved (only 19.2 pounds, although his frame will support at least twice that). To keep from making him sick, I fed him only about half a cup of dog food, which he ate greedily. When he was done, he jumped on the couch, laid his head down on my lap, and went to sleep.

That is not normal behavior for a rescue. I’ve spent the better part of a week getting a rescue to let me see them. I’ve never been accepted so quickly.

I guess Harvey is home.

 

Dogs Get Ready for Yule

“Yeah. I’m a big shot real estate developer, too. Mnya!”
“I got this thing around my neck. Sigh.”

“Hey! My food is here, but the action’s over there. I’m torn.”
Suna pets Brody.

Not a lot to say today. I just wanted to share some pix of the dogs, especially since Suna dressed Brody up for Yule.

 

Doggy Progress

“Look, Daddy! I’m hiding. You can’t see me.” [Okay, so not all the cabinet doors are on yet.]

Rose wants “that puppy” to leave her alone, but he’s persistent.

Rose is getting more accepting of Brody. When he first arrived, she acted as if she were terrified of him. This is strange because she adopted Stella as one of her own puppies and loved her accordingly. Suna thinks the trauma of being involved in Stella’s tragedy affected Rose deeply.

Backstory

Stella and Rose were playing. Stella’s collar got caught on Rose’s jaw. Stella panicked and flipped in an effort to get away, turning the collar into a tourniquet around her neck. She suffocated before Suna could get her free.

We have since learned that this type of death is not uncommon in the blue heeler community. Hence I will not let a dog wear a collar again. Halters are much safer.

Progress of a Kind

But while she still won’t play with Brody, Rose at least acknowledges him now. That’s progress of a kind.

 

Muscles Where?

What is it about dogs and tissues. I’ve never seen a dog who isn’t fascinated by reducing paper to a thousand small pieces.

Raul has to pick up each rock between two and four times. We bought 192 tons for the house.

Despite the August heat, Raul has been working very hard to skin the first floor in rock. First, he moves a selection of rocks into his work area. Then he picks them out, one by one, until he finds the right one for the spot, shaping it as needed by beating it with a mason’s hammer. Finally, he mortars the spot and places the rock. Next rock.

That means he’s going to pick up up to 192 tons of rock at least twice. Much of it, he’ll pick up four times as he lifts it up to the scaffolding he stands on to get to the top of the wall.

Raul is the only worker our neighbor Ralph respects. Ralph watch him work for a half hour or so. Then he said in his inimical Australian way, “That man must have muscles in his shit.”

 

Happy Fourth of July!

Rose came to visit. What a face!

It’s a cheery entry, isn’t it? The local crop duster is fun to watch, but consequences…

Happy Fourth of July!

Crop dusting is a fact of life in rural areas. Somehow, it’s cheaper to dump chemicals out of an airplane that to spray them directly on crops from a tractor or something. I sure enjoy watching the arial acrobatics as that noisy yellow airplane does its thing.

Unfortunately, I’ve seen him overspray our place. I’ve seen him spray on days that were too windy to do so legally. The last time he was in the air, he did a pretty good job of doing what he was supposed to, but it rained. The runoff killed all the crawfish in our front pond—and maybe everything else except for some smelly algae that is clogging the over-fertilized pond.

A New Hope?

The woman from the blue healer group sent pictures of the puppies. She promised the female to a friend of her husband’s, but that leaves the male. She sent pictures. How could you not want to bring home a face like that?

 

All My Rowdy Friends Have Settled Down—Mostly

Back in 1989, Sam always knew that Flatch was good for a bite of breakfast.

And the hang overs hurt more then they used to

And corn bread and ice tea took the place of pills and ninety-proof

—Hank Williams Jr.

Captain Flatulence, his wife, and their children came to visit us for the weekend. I have only had lunch with the captain once since X2 and I split. We used to be roommates, friends, and drinking buddies. Somehow, it is easy to slip into those old behaviors. Our abilities to consume beer in mass quantities were once on a similar level. Not so any more.

While I didn’t awaken this morning “with no way to hold my head that didn’t hurt,” (Can you tell that this friendship dates back to when PC stood for Progressive Country? Before personal computers or politically correct!) I was in no condition to get out of bed without my stomach churning and my eyeballs demanding shelter from the light storm. That after only a six pack—a quantity of Black and Tan deliciousness that we would have once called a light lunch.

So, we caught up on old times over brews after the rest of the crowd went to bed. The captain got up at his “normal” time of around 05:30, while I remained glued to the sheets until around 09:00. I was not fit company when I did manage to drag myself downstairs. We finally managed to go to the donut shop for breakfast, and they headed home around noonish, by which time I was starting to feel almost human.

Still I am grateful this week for old friends who remind me why I don’t do the things I did when I was younger. I am grateful for the sharing of families and the ability to talk politics and religion (or lack thereof) without having to self-censor or worry about repercussions. I have so much to be grateful for. Thanks for reminding me, Matt. Thanks for putting up with me, Suna.

Chez Art

I spent most of the last two days (when I wasn’t looking for work) doing a final revision of my novel and copying it into a standard template for manuscript submission. I did mow the lawn today.

Then this evening we had a nice dinner at Artz with one of Suna’s friends and her family. The friend’s daughter just graduated from Austin Culinary Academy, where she learned of her numerous food allergies. Art congratulated her on graduating and offered consolation on her eminent entry into the restaurant business.

We didn’t take a camera, but if we get pictures from anyone who did, I’ll post one later.

After dinner, most of the friends were going out to party some more. Suna and I went home to tend to Beccano. He has blistered feet. The dogs got out, and he heroically chased them down and brought them home without putting on any shoes. Since this is Texas in July, the sidewalks were hot enough to blister his bare feet within a couple of blocks. Suna bought him a big cheesecake as a reward.

The Night the Lights Went Out at Christmas

This isn’t the black dog that put out the lights. But she would if she could. The cords might be tasty.

Photo by Suna

Hear that midnight rooster crow

Well I’ll have one more before I go

But Honey, don't turn out the light

’Cause I think I’m in the mood for love tonight

—Robert Earl Keen

Last night, I came home from work hungry for my favorite Mexican restaurant. Beccano had already left to spend the night with a friend. TubaBoy and his friends had not yet arrived. So we waited.

I finally decided to call TubaBoy to find out when he and his crew would arrive. “We’re in the driveway,“ he said.

So they came in, and we left. The night was already cold and misty. I backed the truck out of the drive and turned around in the cul-de-sac.

As we pulled up to the stop sign, a large black dog appeared in the headlights. He was exploring the neighbor’s yard across from the end of our street. He jauntily approached a tree wrapped in Christmas lights and lifted his leg. As he jumped away from the tree, the lights went out.

Suna and I both laughed. “I bet he’s thinking, ‘That’s the first time a tree ever bit me!’”

Rock Candy

Candy can make your breath smell better, make your teeth rot, and act as a disease vector.
Photo Source: Baylor College of Medicine

When you’re seventeen reachin’ for your dreams

Don’t let no one reach it for you.

Stretch out take a chance.

If it can be done, you can do it.

—Montrose

Friday Night Lights

I learned tonight that I only like close games when I am not attached to either of the teams. I never minded when the Cowboys had a close game because I always knew that they could pull it out of the fire at the last minute. Whether or not they did so was another question.

But tonight the kids’ high school team played and lost a fairly tight game. They took the lead early. Then they relinquished it and played catch-up the rest of the night. Neither team played very well, but it was a high school game, after all.

Since I really wanted the kids to win their Homecoming game—especially since some evil administrator forbade a dance—it was a long night.

Friday Feast

Appetizer: Name a great website you would recommend to others.

http://www.bloglines.com/

Bloglines provides a simple interface to manage your favorite RSS feeds (blogs, news, whatever) and access them from anywhere. You don’t have to have a copy of your selections on a USB key to see what’s happening when you’re at work, at Starbucks, or anywhere else.

Soup: On a scale of 1-10 (with 10 as highest), how often do you dream at night?

Almost everybody dreams every night. The question is whether or not you remember your dreams. I used to be a 10; now I’m closer to a 1. When I was a kid, I would dream movies—plots, character development, and all that. I would even go back to sleep and rewrite the ending of dreams if I didn’t like the way they turned out.

 

Now I hardly ever remember my dreams, unless they are bad enough to wake me up—and that happens more often now than I like. When I remember them, my dreams are more often than not just me floating somewhere in a vast sea of information trying to categorize and file all the random bits that are streaming in.

Salad: Did you have a pet as a child? If so, what kind and what was its name?

Do you have a couple of hours? I almost always had a dog, and a variety of other pets came and went over time. Just no cats. My mother and I were both allergic to cat dander.

 

I grew up with so many dogs that I am often accused of being one. I get along better with dogs than I do with most people. Dogs are honest. They don’t lie. If they like you, they like you. If they don’t…

 

Dogs also understand hierarchy. They like to know who is in charge. If you feed them, love them, and show them a little kindness and respect, they are more than willing to let you be in charge. But you must be willing to remind them occasionally.

Main Course: If you had the chance to star in a commercial, what would you choose to advertise?

There are really two answers to this question:

1. First, I don’t have a product that I am in love with enough to back with my own name and reputation.
2. How much are they paying?

Dessert: What is your favorite kind of hard candy?

I don’t really like hard candy. If I had to choose one though, it would be those free mints they give out at Mexican restraints.

Dirty Old Egg-Suckin’ Dog

Buddy in 2003

Well he’s not very handsome to look at

Oh he’s shaggy and he eats like a hog

And he’s always killin’ my chickens

That dirty old egg-suckin’ dog

—Johnny Cash

Today marked the end of the first week of my new contract. I have seen a lot of people I know for the first time in a couple of months. It’s been a real treat, more so than just knowing I have money coming in.

One of the people I work with has a collection of Far Side cartoons pinned to the cube wall. One of them shows a dog about to press the plunger and detonate a few sticks of dynamite that are laying next to a house. Inside the house, a woman is yelling to her male counterpart, “The dog is trying to blow up the house again. Catch him in the act or he’ll never learn.”

Friday’s Feast

Appetizer: If you were a dog, what breed would you be, and why?

A mutt. I like mutts. They tend to be stronger, smarter, braver, and friendlier than pure breeds. As a human, I am a mutt; why should I be something else as a dog?

Soup: What does the color purple make you think of?

1. The phrase the color purple makes me think of the movie, which I never saw.
2. Thinking about the color makes me think of a monastery. Not sure why. I just see a gold robe with a purple sash.

Salad: Approximately how long does it take you to get ready each morning?

90 minutes: an hour to wake up, 30 minutes to get ready.

Main Course: How many cousins do you have, and are you close to them?

None, really. My father’s brother was childless. I never met my mother’s side of the family. There may be distant cousins, on my dad’s side, but I don’t think of them as such, just as relatives.

Dessert: Take your initials (first, middle, last) and come up with something else those letters could stand for.

Extended length bronchitis.

I prefer to use both of my middle initials and leave the result as an acronym: E-LAB. It sounds so scientific-like.

Thank You

Gwen and Rose play tuggawar
Photo by Suna

And so today, my world it smiles,

Your hand in mine, we walk the miles,

Thanks to you, it will be done

For you to me are the only one.

Jimmy Page and Robert Plant

Another of Suna’s traditions that I have decided to emulate is Grateful Monday. I used to start out each week by having a bunch of my co-workers each tell of something positive that had happened during the week. I like Suna’s idea of expressing thanks for something that makes her life better.

Choosing this first one was easy. It was something I read that cheered me a lot. Suna wrote, “But, we have our little family, and that is the highlight of any day. The silly kids, the entertaining dogs…the loving partner. All of this helps get through whatever little nuisances show up.” For that, I am thankful today.

Sunshine on My Shoulders

Photo by Suna

Buddy looks so happy here laying among the flowers. He is really doing well, and all of the dogs seem to get along—at least, most of the time. They have their little dominance games to play, but I think Rose is winning that one. She masses more than anyone except Buddy, and she is more assertive. Buddy has always been fairly laid back. Rose still has her stripes to earn.

So Buddy likes taking it easy in the sunshine. The stairs seem to be doing his some good, now that he has mastered them. He is trimmer, although I think a little heavier. But they tell me—you know, them—that muscle weighs more than fat, so I am not worried about him. He plays hard. Then he rests.

Mostly, he keeps to himself except when he is enjoying the company of all the humans around here. He really likes the kids and many of their friends. When he barks at them, they sound almost bored when they say, “Shut up, Buddy. It’s just me.” Then he goes, “So, why aren’t you petting me?” And they respond, “Rose is cuter.”

Buddy is very much like me—easy to get along with but a little crotchety it his late-middle-age. Notice how skillfully I avoided saying, “old age?”

The Name of the Rose

It’s too much expect, but it’s not too much to ask

—Mary Chapin Carpenter

Card for the Day

None. I seem to have misplaced my deck. Well, that’s something for tomorrow.

This is for yesterday. I have never blogged before, so this is kind of a test case. I want to see how much I can influence what is displayed.

I drove out to pick up a new puppy with CFE and had a long, rambling talk on the way. Coworker, who fosters pups for the ASPCA chapter in his community, had a new litter of pups up for adoption. (I couldn’t do that. I would have to keep them all, and where would I put them?)

Of course, Rose—Coworker named the litter after the characters of Lost—was the cutest, most special pup of the litter. Coworker might not agree since he kept a different one, but that’s his problem. Rose is acclimating well with Buddy, who is doing his best to ignore her. She has moved from the “Please don’t eat me” stage to the “I’ll cry if you don’t play” stage in only a few hours.