Can I Keep It?

Happy Halloween!

Okay, for those of you who know me, this story will come as no surprise, but to a few others, well, here goes:

When I was a kid, we spent a lot of time in West Point, Mississippi at one or the other of the two homes of my parents' parents. Now, my dad's father was an alcoholic and prone to indulging my creative whims, because he was, uh,  toasted most of the time.  The dogs aren't the only one who has had a problem with squirrels.  At four or five, I thought they got the short end of the costume stick, reduced to wearing gray flannel suits for eternity.  I wanted to give them more colorful options.  My brother, Michael, got the idea to trap them.

He and our grandfather, E.W., made these exotic contraptions straight out the Roadrunner and Coyote's ACME handbook.  Only THEY WORKED.  We would run out to the captured prisoners and spray them with an old Hudson sprayer filled with food coloring.  Releasing them back into the trees, the giant red oaks in front of their Main Street home, were soon filled with a veritable rainbow of rodents.

As a side note, after several visits, my grandmother's phone would soon start to ring with the question, "Becky?  Are your grandchildren here for a visit?  I just had a blue squirrel on my front porch..."

I thought I was the only one and then I find out...

...Someone's better at it than I ever aspired to be.  Of course, some of them, I wouldn't wish on a squirrel.  This is bad enough from the front.

 

I'm thinking if that cat ever gets a good look in a rear view mirror, somebody's drapes are history.

Here's a lady and her cat dressed for a Halloween party.

Knowing cats as I do, being The Furry Godmother and all, I'm sure this feline is pondering the demise of her favorite Manolo's and her mistress' entrance into an alcohol treatment program.

I thoroughly agree, so...

Cheers!  I'll drink to that!

 

*Yes, the above story about me is true.  We did color squirrels for many seasons in Mississippi in the sixties and seventies.  No animal was harmed in the process.  They were, however, in years of therapy due to the embarrassment we caused them.

*No, I do not think the cat pictures are real.  I believe they are photo shopped, despite the story that accompanied them quoting the prices of the dye jobs at $15,000 a month.  Some computer Photoshop guru must have a ton of time on their hands.  Or a drink in one.

*HAPPY HALLOWEEN!*

 

 

Halloweenies...

So tomorrow, all the children will be donning their fashionable alter-ego gear and hitting the streets, talking to strangers and taking candy from people I wouldn't let call me on my cell phone without sanitizing it after.  I've told them not to do these things, but this is a holiday and therefore devoid of all common logic.  Therfore, tomorrow, I will INSIST that they disobey me.

I trust I will be able to see the difference in their behavior but I doubt it.  Oh, well...

Some of you will no doubt go to see the local parade.

Others will help their children into their get-ups and parade them around the block.  That is what we shall be doing. Carmen is going as a fighter pilot.

Clever no?  (Although I think it should come with wheels!)  I found this on the web.  There's a lot of ideas out there with which to embarrass your pet. 

Zoe will be going as a scholar.  If, that is, I can keep her from consuming the diploma and cap.  Otherwise she'll just be a dog in a black cape.  Or a judge.

Zali will be the 'World famous Secret Spy".  He'll be sporting a tuxedo and carrying a martini shaker.

Simone is going as a sorority girl.  I'll put ribbons on her ears like they're ponytails.  She has a pink sweater emblazoned with "Delta Omega Gamma"  or "DOG".  And a skirt.  She'll HATE that.

But Aida has the best ensemble.  She'll be heading out as a skeleton. 

She and I have been sewing all day.  That's the Dews posing as a Jack 0'Lantern behind her.

Just kidding.  Her costume is much better.

All Dogs Go To Heaven

This was sent to me and it's just too good not to share.  For the record, I'm not going if they don't go.  What kind of a heaven would that be?

 

This is  a 'church sign' debate, being played out in a Southern town, between a Catholic church and a Presbyterian church.  The signage from top to bottom shows the original , then responses and counter-responses over time. 

 

 

The Zali Lama recognizes the dog in you.  Namaste.

Mem'ries...

Zoe, the gentle giant, was sleeping on the floor today as I cooked lunch for Hud and myself.  I was preparing a spiced pork tenderloin, cauliflower gratin and turnip greens with smoked turkey. Aida was judiciously gauging my salt additions. Zali and Simone were sparring over a green monkey.  Squee!  Squee!  Squee! Suddenly, it became quiet.  I looked to my right to see what mischief they were conspiring to make.  Zoe had moaned like an old man in her slumber as she is wont to do.  Simone and Zali had ceased quartering the monkey and had gone to her to check to see if Zoe were alright.  The two of them kissed her eyes.  She flipped slowly on her back and took the love, tail flopping rhythmically on the slate floor. 

The scene reminded me just how dear big ole' stinky Zoe is and always has been.  It made me nostalgic for Zali's puppy-hood when he weighed a mere pound and three quarters.  One blow from her mighty tail could have sent him to the emergency room, shattered and broken, but I never worried about the two of them playing.

The two would play for hours, tugging on a toy, wrestling or sharing a tennis ball.  Zali's mouth was too small to grasp it, so he would steal it from her by clenching the fuzzy surface between his teeth.  She would pretend he was so fierce that she could not wrench it from him.  Many times I would find Zali cradled between her massive legs, growling and sparking her teeth against his.

"Aren't you afraid she'll hurt him?" unknowing visitors would ask.

I never was, not ever.  I knew that in the trappings of a Herculean beast lay the heart of a rabbit.

He was as safe with her as I am.  It doesn't matter to her that she can win the game.  It doesn't concern her that she can overpower the strongest opponent.

It matters that you love her.

I try to always remember that.

 

Good Help...

...Is easy to find at the Hudarosa.  Help that isn't BOSSY, now that's an entirely different matter.

Zali is not my only Sous Chef.  At Chez Angel, we have the luxury of two commies. Aida Velveeta did not get her name because she the fine art of cuisine was lost on her.  This weekend, I was preparing a simple meal and Aida was on the rampage.  I 'm going to have to limit her viewing of Chef Gordon Ramsey's "Kitchen Nightmares". 

"MORE GARRRRRLICK!"

I was only toasting some rosemary olive oil bread for for sandwiches, but she wanted me to rub them with garlic.  I tried to explain that you rub the bread after it browns, like crustini...

"More garrilck, ME-NOW!"

I wanted to cry, but I've learned from watching "Top Chef" that it makes you appear weak.  One should never be weak in the company of claws as a general rule.

You should hear what she said about putting capers in my tapenade...

The language made Zali blush.  Carmen left the room. 

But the final result received the highest honor Aida could bestow...

...the tongue lick all the way over her nose.   FOUR STARS!

I'm relieved.  I was afraid of her wrath.  The last time she was this upset, it took weeks to get all of the crab out of Zali's tail.

Not that Monsieur minded.

Aida, however, is forbidden to watch Gordon Ramsey even on the American version.  She's figured out all the words the censors are bleeping out and Simone is starting to emulate her.

Random Acts of Photography

The one that had no intention of getting away...

 

Monsieur en promenade.  Sorta.

Water, Water Everywhere...

Just when we resolve the problem of the drinking fountain in the backyard comes a cold, driving rain.  This is the kind of winter weather Memphis is famous for.  We've had a steady dose of it all day.  It started as we slept.

The kids have started to get cabin fever.  Zali and Simone have squabbled over toys all afternoon.  I tried to put them down for a nap with Hud, but Simone jumped down and nabbed a lion that roars and brought it up to taunt Monsieur.  "Grrrrr!  Grrrrr!  Graahhh!" 

It sounds like an electric toothbrush having motor troubles more than a lion.

Eventually, they dropped off to slumber land.

It was Ruby Slippers who awakened us with some wild chirping and tossing of seed shells.  She was flapping around her gilded cage.  The toys and perches twirled in her madness. I think the rain and darkness have driven her bonkers.

She keeps screaming at the top of her lungs, "POLLY WANNA' SCOTCH AND SODA!"

Or not, I'm sure that's what she WOULD be yelling if she were an actual parrot and not a Gouldian finch.

In My Shadow

After a brief couple of days off for Fall Break, Hud went back to work today.  He has long days Monday through Wednesday, calling alumni to donate funds for Rhodes College. 

I'm feeling a little lonely tonight.

And then I realized that doesn't compute in my world. I am never alone. 

There's always someone in my shadow.

I don't sleep alone. Heck, with Hud, Zali and Simone under and over the covers, there's barely room for me in the bed.

There are always at least two little faces in the studio accompanying me to paint.  On many occasions, I'm visited by birds, squirrels, butterflies, snakes and Zoe.

I haven't been to the bathroom by myself since, well, probably my whole adult life.  Somebody's always staring at me through the legs of my underwear.

God forbid I should have a quiet meal alone.  Ohhhhh, no!  That's when things really get spicy, what with the dinner dancing and plaintive pleas for a measly morsel off my plate.

Sitting at my computer, writing my blog, I am surrounded by eight living souls.  The Dews are rearranging their cage and yeah, fighting about who took whose shoes.  Simone is chewing on her jingle ball toy, making me think of Christmas.  Zali and Zoe are snoring so loud that it sounds like a high school band is warming up.  Carmen is licking herself in rhythm to the band and rounding out the percussion section.  Aida is in my lap with the required "catulence" for good measure.  (Can't type without smelling that!)  And Ruby is taking her evening shower and singing show tunes.    

Is it me or is it getting crowded in here?

Water Works

Sooooo, Hud and I are out on the patio and he says to me, "Hey, I think we have a problem." 

"Oh?" I question casually.

"Yeah, should this be here?" he states, pointing to a small bubbling spring coming from the azaleas by the walk. 

"Mmmm, uh huh.  That's unusual.  I think I should have noticed that in ten years."

Schyterbolle has sprung a leak.  We called a friend who does some plumbing to fix the watering hole.  Yes, by now, all the children had discovered it.  Simone is fascinated by the gurgling stream and refuses to leave it.  The backyard is now a construction zone. 

Okay, I exaggerate.  It's a small muddy hole made with fresh clean drinking water and dirt.

It still isn't fixed quite yet.  See, our backyard, directly behind the house, has the Cypress Creek culvert buried beneath it.  The pipe rests on top of that concrete.  It's nearly impossible to get room to screw the new coupling on to arrest the water flow.  Somebody else is coming out to see about it tonight.

Simone doesn't care.

She likes her new drinking fountain.  And freshly dug dirt stinks better than anything on the planet.  She's quite the landscape architect.

Simone thinks we've just added a new water feature.  Maybe we should get some fish.

 

*This painting is called, "Landscape Architect", of course. *

Weekend Update

Hud and I and the little kids took advantage of the gorgeous day on Saturday and headed over to Rhodes to watch a football game.  Simone was on her best behavior. I think she's getting the hang of being socialized.  She didn't bark at anybody.  Okay, one dog did get the sharp end of her tongue, but he deserved it.  He looked in her direction.  WITHOUT INVITATION.  So there.

Zali was so proud of his girlfriend that he gave her a smooch.  The jury is still out on whether or not she felt it was the prize he felt it was.  She would have preferred jewelry.

While the game raged on, Zali wandered over to the tennis courts and trick or treated a tennis ball.  He saw the coach hitting a few practice shots and ran for them as they pounded the fence.  It was so very frustrating to him that he could not retrieve them through the wire. Tired of his tears and fuzzy paws furiously digging under, she took pity on him and lobbed one over for him to play with.  He pranced the length of the court showing off his loot.  Good looks will get you your every heart's desire.

Pooped out from all the ball play, he asked to be picked up and snuggled.

Not that he's spoiled or anything, but the boy can charm me into just about everything.

The Lynx won handily.  It's great for them.  Rhodes lost half its team last year to graduation.  This is a brand new bunch of guys. 

When the team wins, all the players line up starting with the seniors and ring the bell at the end of the field.

Zali wanted to, but it was the one thing I wouldn't let him do.

He didn't hold it against me.  I promised we could take his picture.  Have y'all figured out how much he like to be photographed, yet?  Say, "Fromage!",Zali!

The dog's a ham.

But with looks like that, can you blame him?