Can I Keep It?

Two Million Dogs

Simone says, "HELP!"

Well, not her, but our friend, GInger Morgan, who runs the non-profit, Two Million Dogs Two Miles , which promotes awareness of cancer and dogs.  It's a terrific organization she started years ago, when  her beloved Pete, contracted cancer.  Two Milion dogs is vying for a chance to win a car.  Please go to www.100carsforgood.com and vote for Ginger! They're in second place right now.

If you don't, she's blackmailing me that she will come to my house and teach my dogs bad tricks.  Really?  My boys are already wearing underpants.  If she's got something worse than THAT?  I'm in big trouble.  

GO VOTE! 

Zali says, " No! Don't!  Eye whant to see what sheese got up her sleeve!"

IT"S ONLY TODAY!  GO VOTE!

Magical Underpants

Bou like new fambly, but they weird kinda.  Ovher day, Zali pee on chair.  So Bou pee on chair.  Mommee get mad.  Frow owtside.  Why Mommee mad?  Bou just telling Zali that chair is his now.  Fun game.

Mommee give Bou new clothes.  They panch.  Magical panch. Bou like panch.  Give him freedom.  Not tied to leash or put owtside.  Like panch.

Ugh.  The boys have started to have their pissing contest in the house.  One will mark a wall and the other will cover it.  Then a chair and the other will claim it.  I was about to take stock in white vinegar and denatured alcohol when Hud and I had lunch with our friends, Bob and Mary.  Mary owns Creature Comforts , a pet sitting service in Memphis.  So I asked her for any suggestions, since both the boys are housetrained.  This is strictly a behavioral issue.  She said to go out and buy them Belly Bands.  Who knew?  So after lunch, we high tailed it over to Hollywood Feed and bought a couple.

The band covers their man bits.  A sanitary napkin inside keeps them from being able to play their wicked little game.  Keeps their pee shooters holstered.  Their hoses housed.  You get my drift.  Boudreaux has stopped wetting his pad already.  Zali is still man enought to try to tell Bou which items he demands to own.  We're working on it.  But the house is no longer a gaming field.

If I knew the person who invented it, I'd track them down and kiss them on the lips.

Not Ze Zali!  He wood track zhem down and peece on zhem.  Tetes de merde!

Mommy's Little Helpers

Every day we like to go out to the vegetable garden and weed for about an hour. 

Bou help. Dig plants.  Mommy want Bou go in pool now?

Oy.  Boudreaux likes to take naps on the freshly weeded beds.  He has absolutely no sense of personal space.  Even less for crushing plants.

The weather's been so warm, the blackberries, peppers, cucumbers and beans have already begun to produce.  We've eaten at least ten tomatoes.  I plucked two more off today.

The eggplants have just begun to flower.  We caged them to keep them from softening Boudreaux's naps.  But the herbs are Simone's favorite place to play.  Rosemary is scratchy but the thyme is soft as a cloud, according to her.

WhatDoYouMeanYouEatThatCwap?

I never thought I'd like to hear myself say phrases like, "Boudreaux! You can't sleep on an eggplant!" Or, "Dogs don't eat marigolds!" Much less the timeless, "How many times do I have to tell you to stop jumping over me in the garden?"

Seriously.  Boudreaux has mad skills.  He's like an exotic black deer set loose in the backyard.  We have a brick wall between the driveway and the pool deck.  It's about four and a half feet on the car side and three feet tall on the pool side.  I'm walking back in when I notice his running feet coming in my direction.  I look up to see him leap the  wall, perch on top of the one brick wide decoration and gently land on the decking.  So jumping , Simone, Me or Zoe is hardly a test of his agility.

Le Sigh.

His One True Love

One day, before our wedding, Hud and I decided to take a walk in Overton Park.  As we approached, we saw a trio of runners trying to corral a fluffy yellow dog, without success.  As one of them reached for the dog, it looked up, spotted me and came running swiftly through the traffic.  Cars were squealing tires to avoid her.  She ran straight to me.  The runners yelled, "Put your dog on a leash!"  I, stunned, said, "But I don't have a dog!"  I looked down at the smiling face just as the little liar reared up on its hind legs.  Both front paws offered to me. 'Yeah, right!" They scoffed.

She followed us on our trek around the old forest.  Back across the busy streets.  Up the long staircase of our duplex.  Right into the  kitchen.  I had a friendly free-range dwarf lop bunny who roamed the rooms of the apartment.  "Arnie!" I screamed.  He bopped right over to her.  I held my breath.  She bent her head and kissed him.  "Oh, no!" I turned to Hud, "What about Tee Tee?" at the very moment she rounded the corner of the bedroom door.  Her ears flattened.  She sauntered over to the new beast.  I sucked in my breath. 

And that's when it happened.  Terrible Tootsie LeRoux, the Shining Path, reached up her face and head butted the dog. Rubbed herself along the length of its body and slinked away into the dining room.

"Oh, dear God, we HAVE to keep her.  The dog is Jesus!" exclaimed Hud.

And so we did.

Carmen got along famously with all sorts.  When we finally found Aida, it was as if we had gotten her as a gift.

One time, while roofing the house, a nest of baby mice was unearthed in the attic.  One got into the house.  Hud and I found Aida and Carmen in the living room after they trapped it.  Carmen had her dainty paws cradled around the teeny mouse, licking it like a lolly pop.  She never even tried to hurt it.

But whomever had Carmen before she came to us had abused her.  And it must have been a man, because try as he might, Carmen wanted nothing to do with Hud.  So I devised a plan.  He had to tend to her every need.  And I ignored her.  Didn't even look at her for two weeks.  Which was really hard.  When Carmen wanted your attention, she would wedge her nose under your hand and pop it up on her head to be petted.

It worked.Two weeks was all it took for her to fall madly in love with Hud.  And he lost his heart to her as well.

They were inseperable.  She rode shotgun in his old Chevy pick up.  The went for runs in the park.  She was ever at his side.  So much so, that for Valentine's Day of the next year, I painted her portrait.  I gave it to him with a card that said, "I thought you should have a portrait of your one true love."

She had come to us at one of the most turblent times of our lives.  The world was constantly crushing us in 1997.  We lost my grandmother, his father, my grandfather, we sold our photography studio, my cat Myshkin died.  She died a mere ten days before my father took his life.

The first real turn in the year was Carmen joing our family.  Then, we got married, found Aida and bought the Hudarosa.

It's been a great ride.  Carmen had the sweetest, kindest soul of any dog I ever met.  She was gentle, smart, loving and beautiful.  Her smile could make your whole day turn around.  But every living being must age.  And Carmen has been leaking away for a year now.

Eight months ago or so, Carmen stopped being able to navigate the stairs.  We moved her bed down to the den.  And carried her out several times a day to wander the backyard.  She was happy and eating well.  I was honored to help her through her day.  As long as she wanted to stay, we wanted her to be here.

Last Monday, I went to take her out.  Her back legs refused to hold her weight.  I tried and tried to get her to stand. Hud called me to come in.  I left her in some tall monkey grass and went in to tell him I thought it was time.  But he had other news.  His retina in his good eye had detatched.  I retreived Carmen and attended to Hud.  While he was in surgery, I came home and helped her as best I could.  I couldn't tell him about her condition.  It's quite possibly the only secret I've ever kept from him.  I kept it the rest of the week so he could heal. Saturday, he was well enough to come outside with me as I tried to get her to stand.

The look on his face drew me to tears.

She was a year old when she came to me, pleading to be my dog.  And fifteen years later, on my father's birthday, Hud and I bundled her up and took her to the vet one last time.

We will miss you every single day, Carmen.  Every. Single. Day.

Dirty Laundry

It seems every week, I am besieged by stinky t-shirts, muddy pants, hairy bedsheets and other various garments and such in varying states of cleanliness.  Cleanlessness?

The little kids are used to the hourly treks up and down the stairs.  Hauling yet another basket of filth to the laundry and delivering a fresh batch upstairs to retire to its nesting place, waiting for the next round of grime to cover it.  Boudreaux is perplexed by the contant trail of smelly goodness rendered sweet and uninviting by the washing machine.  He thinks they are far better worn than fresh.

Zali, however loves a load, warm from the dryer.  He used to make the many trips to and fro until of late.  Boudreaux, puppy still, inadvertently stepped on him and hurt one of Zali's knees.  I would climb the staircase, he would whine pitifully at the base.  Trapped by his floating kneecaps.

Then yesterday, it came to me.  Going up!  I swooped up Zali and plopped him on the warm, folded towels and carted him with me.

 

Problem solved! 

Zali gets a free ride to the top and I have one fewer trip back down to retrieve him.  No more tears!

Now if I can just figure out how to keep Boudreaux from mouthing all over the cat until she becomes a soggy blop of fur...

I'm not really sure there's an entry in the  manual for that.

Fiddy

Yesterday has come and past.  I am well into the second day of my fifty-first year.  That's right.  Yesterday was my fiftieth birthday.  The celebration of making through my fiftieth year on earth.

Yes, I wore my tiara.  Shut up!  If I can't wear it that day, when can I?  Okay, well I do have the tendency to slip in on every now and again to vacuum. 

Hud took me to the Beauty Shop in Cooper Young for lunch. 

We started with some guacamole.  Hud had the pasta special.  A succulent four cheese raviolli with artichoke hearts and spinach.  I know.  Hud.  Requesting artichoke hearts since I forced him at knifepoint to eat one in 1998.

I had the duck cobb salad.  Crispy duck, eggs, and other tasty vegetables served with Green Goddess dressing.  Devine.

The kids were on their best behavior.  Simone even snuggled up on one of the beds in the office with Boudreaux.  She's been cautious with Bou.  He's still a wreckless puppy with a tendency to smash things that land under his feet.  It was a milestone.

Later came Zali's favorite part of the day.  Presents and CAKE!  And my favorite, a lovely bottle of Proseco given to me on Sunday by my friend, Jamie Flowers in honor of my breaking the half century mark.

Simone helped me blow out the candle.  I think it was less of an effort to help than to get to the cake cutting. 

WhyIsThereAllDisStoopitSinging?There'sCAKEOnTheTable,Mommee!

I've always loved birthdays.  To the extent that, as a child, I still thought it was my birthday as long as there was cake left.  My poor parents had to drag out the candles and sing to me every night until it was gone.  And I was stingy with the portions.  I could make a cake drag out for a month.  Easy.

But this one was truly unique.  I feel like I've been celebrating all year. 

Thanks, Hud.  For making me feel so special. 

We'll always have Paris. 

Contestants' No. 1

Boudreaux, Boudreaux...Zali!

Someone's taking the piss out of me over here at the Hudarosa. 

Bou is fitting in so easily, it's as if he were ordered online with a five star rating.  He and Zoe are fast friends. 

Everytime they accompany me to the studio, it's a wrestling rink.  A real throwdown.  They like to play so rough, I have to send them out into the back yard.  Zali tries to get in on the action, but the play is so aggressive that he bows out and settles in to the bed with Simone.

Who hates all the rough housing.  She's tried to get them to come to a tea party.  Play dolls. Do each other's hair.  To no success at all.  Bou will do the butt in the air/elbows on the ground thing, trying to charm her.  Simone is not amused.  She yips and jumps into my arms.  It really pisses her off.

Ashull.

Zali has been desperately claiming all  of the corners of the yard.  He'll mark a brick flower bed.  Boudreaux will cover it.  Pissy, he drowns a flower pot.  Bou makes it his own.

That's right.  Zali and Boudreaux are having a pissing contest.

As long as you keep it outside, boys, Mom won't have to take the piss out of you.

And On the Next Episode of Hoarders...

Hud and I spent the gorgeous Sunday afternoon doing an event called Paws for a Cause at the Shops of Saddlecreek.  There were pet bakers, pet stores, pet accupuncturists, pet photographers, pet painters and of course, the rescue groups.

We were immediately to the right of the Greyhound Rescue Group.  Only they're aren't really rescues, more of a second chance group. 

All of these beauties were there with their parents.  The greyhounds are not well socialized when they are up for adoption.  They've spent a lot of time alone in a pen waiting to go to work, instead of romping in backyards with twelve year old boys.  The group brings only the adopted ones to show how they blossom when they get to know people.

Good Dog Rescue was there as well.  Oh! The small funny faces!

This little girl had me at hello.  But I resisted the temptation.

They told me this was the laziest terrier in the country.  He wouldn't even get up for dinner if he was napping.

You know, as the Furry Godmother, people love to talk to me about their animal friends.  And there were some real stories yesterday.  Tales of the worst and the best in people.

This is Gus, a six month old St. Bernard puppy.  He was ginormous.  And fluffy as a chick.  And sweet as candy.  And spent four months locked in a wooden crate in a garage.  An unwanted birthday gift, ignored and treated so badly, when Sam got him, he couldn't walk.  He crawled on his belly to her.

But she has nursed him back to health.  He seems to bear no scars from his ordeal.

Unlike Honeysuckle.

She was found after someone set her on fire.  She had been bred, but probably failed to produce winning fighters.  The pups probably all inherited her gentle nature. That's her girlfriend, Feather, being fed a cookie by their mom from Three Dog Bakery. 

I had run up to the restroom and on my return, I spotted a new pen at the Good Dog Rescue.  It was so much larger than the others. 

And then I saw his face.

I asked the young attractive woman why she had my dog in a cage. 

Kristi took him out and I fell like a rock.  All the discussions swirled around my brain.  Four dogs is plenty.  We'll wait until Carmen is gone.  No. More. Male. Dogs.  I told Kristi that I would send my husband up to meet him.  Explained about Carmen.  Tried to talk myself out of it.

Kristi pleaded her case.  Someone she knew had owned Ace and had to move.  She could not take him with her.  ( I hope it wasn't that, "Arizona doesn't take dogs" excuse the Humane Society gets all the time.)  So Kristi, who fosters for Good Dog, told her that she would take him and find him a good home. She had him for a while, though now and she was two weeks from delivering her second child.  She was desperate to find that place.  She felt guilty because he was so very loving and they had been trying not to bond with him. 

I wandered back to my booth, wondering how I could get Hud to agree with all the wrongheadedness of it.

I told him that the dog was a Catahoula/Shepard mix.

He jumped up and said, "Well, let's have a look at him then..."

I waited, biting my lip.  Wringing my hands.  Waited. Minutes passed and out of the corner of my eye, I see Hud, walking with Ace back to me. 

"We need to change his name.  I'm calling him Boudreaux."

So it is official.  We are animal hoarders.

He fit in seamlessly.  Zali has only groused a few times to push his weight around.  Bou was cool with that. After the initial alarmed barking by Simone, accepts him.  Zoe took to him right off and shared a toy with Bou. Carmen finds him fascinating. The only things we're working on are the cat and the birds.  Boudreaux simply does not understand have wild animals in the house.  Aida is not amused.

But I am!  He's already revealed some of the quirky bits of his personality.  He likes music. It makes him do the RCA dog head.  Loves to watch TV to the point of needing to tell him to sit down when he finds some particular piece of dialogue riveting.  And himself.  He could spend hours watching himself in the mirror.

He was only agitated for an hour or two.  Then he jumped down fromthe ottoman Zoe shared with him.  Nosed through the toy basket until he found the perfect one. Then he hopped back up.  Settled in beside Zoe again and squeaked peacefully.

Welcome home, Boudreaux. We're all glad you're here.

 

 

 

Good Days

The whole pack has been spending as much time as possible with Carmen.  She's been having lucid, steady days lately.  We've seen less of Carkeys and that is a blessing.

She goes on teetering walks about the backyard.  Eats heartily for breakfast and dinner.  But mostly?  She sleeps on her bed in the den.

She sleeps more soundly when we cover her with several layers of beach towels.  And yes, give her one as a pillow for her head.  Good thing she isn't spoiled or anything. 

Zoe has been spending a lot more time with her.  Instead of snoozing in the bar, she's been napping on her ottoman with Carmen.

Even the little kids are sticking close.

Well, admittantly, Zali may be sticking around like a remora.  He hovers like a vulture when Carmen eats her meals, waiting to snatch goodies from her plate.  That dog is a weasel sometimes.

So we're lazing happily along, relishing the good days.  And counting all of our blessings.

Turn that thing off!  Can't a girl get some rest around here?

Hanging in There

Last week, we almost put Carmen down.

I know.

But she could hardly walk.  Looked dazed.  She kept wetting herself.  It was heartbreaking.  But Monday morning, she had gotten up by herself and waited for me to let her outside.  She was terribly unsteady.  I stood beside her so she could lean on me.

I told Hud. Neither of us are willing to let her go, it seems.  So that night we trimmed her once luxurious fur and gave her a warm bath.  I didn't want to do it by myself.  She'd never been in the tub and I was afraid it might frighten her.

Was I ever wrong.  She loved it! Carmen laid in the tub and let me massage her stiff legs.  After, we dried her and Hud placed her on her bed in the den.  I covered her with two thick towels to keep her warm.  She slept the whole night for the first time in months.

And in the morning, got up on her own.  A little wobbly, she hopped down the stairs to go outside completely unassisted. The water changed her.  She practically ran to me when I called for her to come back inside.

So, like our other old lady, Aida, she's still hanging in there.

Only far less cranky about the aging process.