Paws for Reflection

Giving Thanks...for Elastic Waistbands.

Thanksgiving this year was fabulous.  I ran at the firehouse, and my mom came up to station 25 and cooked for both my family and the entire crew on duty, both 5 and 25.  She did a phenomenal job, and I ate so much I wanted to sit in front of the fire and rub my round belly until Christmas. 

It was surprisingly quiet at the station this year.  Usually Thanksgiving and Christmas are pretty busy, and there was one choking call (bite-sized pieces, people!), but no one died, and I ended up spending the rest of the shift having a quiet night with some pretty excellent company.  I also ended up getting a visit from a very dear friend who I don't have occasion to see much, and there's nothing better than a golden hour of conversation over good coffee with an old friend. (Thanks, Merry Lynn, you're the cat's meow.)

My mom, bless her heart, came home home after cooking and took care of Homer for me, doing his exercises and keeping him comfortable.  He's so obviously hurting, my poor pup, and he's having a hard time keeping comfortable since his left hip hair hasn't completely grown back yet, and now his right hip has the naked chicken look in full effect as well.  Amazingly, it's his foreleg that makes him look most vulnerable - he's got this full thick coat of hair, a super thick scruff, and this little teeny patch of bare skin on his foreleg that he just licks and licks.  I think he'd like to lick his hip wound, but it's a bit uncomfortable for him to twist his body that far, and puts too much pressure on his still healing other hip.  So he nurses this 3 x 3 shaved patch on his foreleg, and lays in stoic silence in front of mom's TV.

 

Vulnerable foreleg and Frankenstein hips notwithstanding, my boy is a trooper, and though the first two days coming home were a bit rough, he is attempting to re-establish the Homeskillet groove.  It was a GORGEOUS day today - probably in the 50's, temperature wise (my thermostat said 46, but I think it lied...) the sun was shining, and the grass was still green, even though autumn's leaves made a nicely crunchy carpet upon it.  The HoJo saw the sunshine on his favorite spot, and not hell nor high water nor the dreaded "Hey Hey HEY NO!" could dissuade him from limping across the yard to lay on the ground. 

Had we needed confirmation that Homer Jess is a bit on the strange side, this would have done it, but you've got to admit, my stargazing, 2.30am-singing, cold-ground-seeking crazy-ass half-redbone-half-bluetick coonhound is damn handsome dog.  He's even got the movie star profile down cold.  No autographs, please...no autographs.

 

But not to worry, he's still down to earth.  No matter how aloof he may seem, or how standoffish his behavior, he's still a coonhound, and a slave to his nose and a freshly opened bag of Cheetos.

My girl Dora is a slave to her desires as well, but she's a lot less delicate about getting her needs met.  (Apple doesn't fall far from the tree, eh?)  I was out on the photo shoot with my boy Homer this morning when Dora decided that I was not being as attentive to her needs as I should be (read: Wubba) and set out to rectify. 

For those that do not pursue photography, either as a hobby or as a profession, I will tell you that it is extremely difficult to photograph one's subject, regardless of the light or the scene, when one has a large, immovable, and determined object standing squarely in front of one's lens.

 

Luckily Dora, unlike mostly everyone else in the world, is easily satisfied.  All she requires is food, shelter, love, and an indefatigable throwing arm.  Giver her what she needs...

...and she's a happy camper.

If only the rest of life were that easy...

But all in all, Thanksgiving this year was a good one.  I have spent many holidays in many places, some among family and friends, some in strange places with only strangers for company, and the memory of this one will go in the keeper box. I don't know that left to my own devices I would have chosen to spend the holiday as I did, but in the end, the people at the fire department ARE a part of my family, and it was a night to give thanks and realize how lucky I am to be on the safe side of 911 - providing those services instead of needing them.  Even sweeter, how lovely to have such a holiday pass when no one really needed us.  I don't enjoy the inactivity, but I'm glad that no one was hurt or dying on a holiday meant to spend with loved ones.

I have many, many things in my life to be thankful for, and my challenge will be to remember those things and give thanks on a daily basis, instead of just once a year. 

Homer, I'm sure, is thankful for the stars outside, and the sturdy bench on the deck that brings him closer to them.  He's a contemplative one, and I'm fairly certain he'd get the meaning of Thanksgiving if he were more interested in people things.

Dora, on the other hand, has a fairly good idea of what Thanksgiving entails.  We did a turkey dinner again tonight for just the four of us, and she watched the preparations with an eagle eye, almost losing the skin on her nose several times when she got too inquisitive around a gas stove burner. She's definitely figured out that there's a meaning to this holiday, and that it's DELICIOUS.

  

THANKS! Giving!

The HoJo is a Go Go.

My sweet love Homer went in for his second hip surgery today, and I have to admit I was a bit nervous.  The last time he went in, he ended up a bit traumatized, thought he was abandoned, and had a lovely case of explosive diarrhea from nervousness. 

This time he did alright when I dropped him off - we went out for a bit of a walk beforehand (yes, I admit it, he's a hound and I was bribing his nose...) and he seems to have remembered the vet staff from last time.  They remarked on how he seemed more social and confident this time - it feels nice to know that others can see the progress my boy is making! I think that he will always be a somewhat timid dog, but with BullDozer Dora constantly yanking his chain, he should toughen up in no time flat.  Either that, or he'll have a nervous breakdown, crawl into a corner, and eat nothing but carrots while whimpering uncontrollably.  With Homer, you really just never know.  (Seriously...he stargazes, for the love of Pete!)

(Yes, I was FREEZING by the time we got to the vet's, but the HoJo has to have his shot of fresh O...)

I called the vet around 4 to see how he was doing, and apparently he came through the surgery beautifully. This hip was just as bad as the other one - but eight more weeks of Gimp and the Homeskillet will only have a little teeny limp!  (All pimp dogs have a hitch to their step, don't you know...he planned it that way.)  He is staying over tonight for observation, and I should be able to go get him and bring him home in the morning. 

Since he went there in a good mood and got cut up for his trouble, as well as a naked ass in the winter, I'm thinking I should hide all my good shoes before he gets here, and buy a bag of Cheetos just in case. O_O

Anyway, on another note, it was a beautifully mild fall day today, and I had to go deep into Nokesville to pick some stuff up.  My first clue that I was deep in country came when I turned on a gravel/mud road, and everyone I passed lifted their hands in greeting.  How awesome is that?  You don't even know me, but you're still saying Hi!  I HEART country folk!

Oh, but it gets better!  I come around the bend, cross a (one lane!) bridge over a crick, and look out my window to see this:

COWS!!!  How FABULOUS is that?  I must have stood there and watched them for about 15 minutes.  I guess you can take the girl out of the country... but gettin' the country out the girl apparently takes more than moving to DC.  Who knows - I think everybody needs a little taste of the bucolic now and again.  It's pretty hard to harbor negativity of any kind when you're watching cows wade chest deep in freezing water.  All you can think is... "Man, I bet that has to SUCK.  Let me turn the heat up in my car!"

Another Sunday Bites the Dust...

Ever since I moved down here to the nation's capital, I have given up on the concept of weekends.  Weekends up home used to be for going out, for piddling around the house, for lazing in bed and all night games of Pinochle and Gin Rummy.  Living in DC is a different animal though, and life here is so frenetic and the commute so horrendous that your weekdays are filled with the grind, and your weekends are filled with bills, laundry, grocery shopping and all of the chores you neglected during the week. 

TODAY I RECLAIMED MY WEEKEND. 

Well, OK, not really, but Dora had a rare lazy day today, and I commiserated.  She was still snoring away when I got up at 8 this morning, and she didn't drag her bones out of bed until after 9.  I honestly think that if she hadn't had to go pee, she might have lazed away the day hogging my covers and stinking up my pillow. 

She did show up for breakfast, though, and I have to hand it to her - that took GUTS.  Last night while we were eating dinner Dora pulled a steak attack and IN FULL VIEW of everyone at the dining room table walked up and grabbed the steak in the middle of the table. It took a second to process, and all I could think was "Has this dog LOST HER MIND?"  The ruckus that ensued let her know once and for all that only those with opposable thumbs are allowed to take food off the table - but she still showed up when she smelled bacon this morning.   O_O

She sulked a bit after being denied bacon and eggs, but then decided that the patch of sun in front of the back door (DIRECTLY in the path of anyone trying to enter or exit the family room) was a good place to camp out with her new squeaky toy. Thanks, Grandma, for the squeaky toy - I have ascertained that, 3,467 squeaks into this morning, this is not a toy I will allow you to buy again.  

  

As you can see, she was not in a sociable mood today, and every time I tried to take a picture, she grabbed her squeaker, got up, and left.  Well, crap.

Anyone who knows me knows that I go nowhere without my camera, and I will take simply ludicrous amounts of snapshots of just about anything.  So it shouldn't surprise anyone that I continued to snap shots of her - she's just TOO DANG CUTE!

Cute or not, like mother like daughter, and she let me know posthaste that she was not pleased with my continued shutterbugging:

"MOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOMMMM!!!  STOP IT!"

But, like mothers everywhere, I pay no mind to her discomfort when there are cute pictures to be had, and she eventually resigned herself to suffering through my madness.  I'm sure she'll find a corner to pee in or a shoe to chew when I'm not looking to make up for it.

 

So, Dora and I passed the day away in laziness, scorning productivity and laughing at laundry and chores.  Oh, and I baked a carrot cake.  If you're going to lay around doing nothing useful, why not have a tasty snack to chomp on?

Homer Jess wanted nothing to do with our lazing about...but he's weird.  He has taken up stargazing (I kid you NOT) and will whine to be let out at all hours of the day and night.  As soon as he gets outside, he'll climb up on the bench, sit down, tuck his tail around his paws, and stare at the sky.  Seriously. 

WHAT KIND OF DOG STARGAZES?

Then again, with the ozone layer depleting and pollution clouding up the atmosphere...  smoke 'em while you got 'em!

Gaze on, little man! Twinkle twinkle!

By the way, I totally don't mind if he goes out and counts the constellations all night, but it is getting COLD out, and he wants to be out there for hours!  He's going to catch his death from pneumonia, see if he doesn't!  I coax him in, he draaaaaags himself in ("Ohhhkay Mom, JEEEZ.") but then waits until I am all the way back upstairs before scratching at the back door to go back out.  We'll do this four, five, twenty times a night, easy.  Rinse, Lather, Repeat.  *sigh*

My special, special boy....

It's About Anticipation...

...and sleeping, because really, sometimes the anticipation is just too much and let's face it, it makes you tired. 

It seems like I've been tired a lot lately.  The rollercoaster ride that is the economy, the extreme difficulty I've had in finding work to pay the bills, and just the general state of the world are not really things that make me want to put on my Hippie Love Beads and tie-dyed underwear, know what I mean?  Gas prices are dropping (not that I can afford to go anywhere) and food prices are higher than ever before - God forbid you want to eat even partially organic - it makes a girl want to go out and get a firstborn child to sell!

Luckily for my sweet boy Homer Jess, Cheetos are still only $2 a bag - ahh...the beauty of chemically processed food snacks that are unaffected by farmers, rainy seasons or Hurricane Katrina's kooky destruction! If they could figure out how to get rid of the Orange Finger Effect, those things would be as close to perfect as one can get here on the Earthly plane.  (I mean, you want to eat them, even though you know they're totally bad for you, but you don't want everybody else to know you're cheatin' on your diet, you know?)

But back to anticipation...this is the time of year when it happens.  The weather starts to turn, the days start to disappear and night comes earlier and earlier.  It creates this illusion of speed where the days go faster and faster, as if days at the end of the year are the last grains of sand in the hourglass, running swiftly out.  Halloween comes with the early dark, the harbinger of crisper days and colder nights...with Thanksgiving following shortly thereafter.  So close together - yet they seem so far apart.  "Oh, it's a month away!" you think, and while you think about it, it feels like there's plenty of time to plan and cook and gather.  It's time to make plans to visit family in far away places, get out your winter sweaters, and start wondering when the hell they started playing Christmas music in stores in October. 

There's a sense of breathless wonder that permeates the air... and a looming pressure from retail America to materialize every good emotion and family tradition to the nth degree.  Don't get me wrong - I <HEART> the holidays.  I bake like a fiend (I don't actually overeat during the holidays, it just all the, uh, taste testing and stuff I have to do...), I crochet and I craft and I glue macaroni together to make Christmas ornaments you'll feel bad about ever throwing away. But seriously, what makes Thanksgiving and Christmas so wonderful is that they are bright, shining, BRIEF moments when all of humanity goes overboard with good cheer and gorgeous food and glitter and sugar cookies shaped like animals we'd never eat in real life. Stretch that out into six, ten, eight, TWELVE weeks for each holiday - and you're pushing it. Seriously.  There starts to be this pressure to be jolly, a kind of grim determination to grin and bear it all with good cheer.

The effect of all the hard core marketing for the holidays (and this year has been ludicrous already) ends up being a kind of "Ho, Ho, Holy Crap it's still three more weeks until Christmas... and I can't take it anymore! If I hear Andy Williams sing about the Most Wonderful Time of the Year one more time I'll put my eye out with a candy cane! ARGH!"

In a way, I'm grateful for the economic hardships this year - not having the money to buy gifts for those that I care for, I've had to come up with ways to show my love, respect and affection that don't require dollars - and it's been grand.  I've had to ignore the marketing blitz and the inundation of messages to BUY BUY BUY more! Just the act of sitting down to put into words how I feel about the important people in my life, how their presence enriches my life, and the things I've learned from them has been an incredibly rewarding experience - I've been so busy the last few years of my life that I've let a lot of the finer details of joy slip through my fingers.  Having to move past empty pockets into the depths of myself to produce gifts for those I love has brought to light how truly blessed I am. 

I also have an in-house support network - my girl Dora listens very intently when I talk these postings out with her, although it might have more to do with my habit of giving belly rubs while I talk...

 

Homer is pretty reliable as well...he's pretty reliably sacked out on the couch, asleep on the landing, or napping out in the yard.

Man, I've got the best pups in the Universe.

So, I guess the thought that I'm imparting is this:

There's a lot to worry about right now - and though almost every person I know is going through hard times, and times look like they're going to get harder... in the end, it's only money.  Yeah, money makes life comfortable, but it doesn't warm the heart - and you can't buy the things that truly matter.  No matter how hard the times you fall upon, give someone you care for a hug, a phone call, or a visit.  It's the time of year to give thanks for the blessings that we have, and all of mine walk on either two legs or four. 

Oh, and uh, it's probably a good idea to forego signing up people you don't like to risque websites. You know, in the spirit of the season.

Why I Like Dogs

People Suck. 

There are just no two ways about it - we humans, as a race, have very few redeeming qualities.  Sure, we have opposable thumbs, macaroni and cheese and HDTV - but we invented lying, thievery, and the $200 million corporate executive bonus. 

Dogs, on the other hand, have a marvelous ability to live in the moment, and give affection unstintingly.  They don't hold grudges, they don't cling to past hurts, and they have an uncanny ability to sense the need for a snuggle.

I would like, just once, to see a world where we said what we felt was right, regardless of how politically correct it was.  Where we didn't worry about getting ahead, but worried instead about the common good.  It would be nice to live in a place where my fellow man cared as much for my welfare as he cared for his own.  Don't you think?

 

I know that human beings are complex creatures - I know that we have levels of brain function that are largely not present in the animal kingdom, but then again, they don't have rape, murder, or corporate embezzlement.  Would it really be so hard to take a lesson from a pup, and give a kiss when you see someone you like? Wag a tail to greet the day? Enjoy the simple pleasures, like running through the fallen leaves on a beautifully golden fall day?

I think we've got a long way to go to travel back to the basics, and sometimes it makes me sad.  I'm going to do my level best to take a page from the book my pups wrote, and greet the day with a kiss on the nose.  What could it hurt?

Back in Black....

OK - I've got my camera back up and functioning, and in true Mel expeditious and incredibly efficient fashion...I'm in Norfolk all week and the dogs are back home.  So, I'll be posting pics that I took with my other Olympus, which has neither viewfinder nor display screen...which leads to some interesting photography.  I don't have very many good pictures of the pups, but on the upside, I'll be able to see what my floors look like in minute detail many, many years from now.

I'm running around like a mad person for the next four days (Symposium is ALWAYS busy busy busy!), operating on too little sleep and (allegedly) too much alcohol, so my postings will be short and sweet. 

I'll start you guys off with one pic of my girl, and her soon to be R.I.P. Tenni.  The Kong toys are starting to wear out (Nooooo, you say?  Wear out??? Craziness!  It's not like they're thrown about, tossed around, or dropped on her mommy's head on a regular basis! How could they POSSIBLY wear out?)  and it may be time for Santa to bring her another batch, although he'll think about that twice before he does if he knows what's good for him.

 

Well, OK, maybe ONE toy.  She's just too cute for words, and it would be a crime to leave her toyless.

A Citizen's Duty...

... is to

 

You (we) ARE the...

 

And in my opinion...