Blog Archives

Another Musing from the place I’m doing Laundry

It’s bonkers.

As Alice would say.


It’s almost 3 weeks since I left my home.   And I still feel like a dog turning in circles and not able to lay down.

That got me to thinking about the homeless – the people who don’t have shelter to exhale in.  Bouncing and bouncing from place to place.  I mean, if I feel this way in my parents home – then … Gawd.

It makes me so sad.

The important thing is I have my Teddy.  My bear.  I think I understand the homeless with their carts.   Having things that are familiar to you is so important.  THEN I start thinking about people relocated due to fire or flood and all of their possessions gone.  Just gone.  Then I appreciate Facebook more.  I lost a lot of photos in my divorce.  But, Facebook is an eternal photo album and also, since they started memories, a diary.



I’ve also taken a lot of photos.

Tiny Dancer with her tongue out

Tiny Dancer with her tongue out

Tiny in the sun

Tiny in the sun

The 'lover but a biter'

The ‘lover but a biter’

Missing her mom

Missing her mom

Tiny dancer sleeping

Tiny dancer sleeping

Plucky on her window seat

Plucky on her window seat

Cacti and globe

Cacti and globe

Gorgeous Cacti

Gorgeous Cacti

Me, in the window

Me, in the window

Clearly, it’s a ‘tad’ windy.

Bottom line, it  sucks not to be home.  But I’m glad to fill in for my mum and dad that also want to be home.

And, am enjoying the pets, even if it means many scratches.  😉



Baby Bunny Update … After the Musing.

OK, if you haven’t caught up, catch up now.  Read THIS post.

Then come back.


I came home, fed the babies again.

Was speaking back and forth with my mom who is a HUGE animal advocate and thankfully, a huge network of people.

She found someone close who was ready and willing and able to give MY (yes, I totally bonded) babies the attention and love they deserve.

I wavered.

I had bonded.

They had made it through the night!


They really did.  When I found them, they were flopping like fish.  This morning’s feeding had them using their legs, walking up me … I had to swaddle to nurse them.


I have finally downloaded the videos I took during my short, short time as a bunny foster mom.

The first video … When I was still trying to find Bunny Mom.

And I did.

I played Alice and searched and searched for that rabbit hole.

As I said in my first post, once darkness fell, and rain was imminent … They HAD to come inside.

Life or death situation. (I’ll speak about that later.)

They survived the night!  I nursed and they lived!

I fed them.  I bonded.  And then … My mom, who is very active in animal advocate circles, found someone close who could do better than I could.

Give them more than I could.

So, my last videos:

One of the bunnies with hiccups:

ANNNNND … My goodbye. 😦

SO! My babies are gone.

The adoptive mom was lovely.  As were her children.

They already have a bunny.   She’s a dog groomer – and as I said before, a huge animal advocate.  I slipped her my email address.

“Please tell me good or bad how they’re doing.”

I had the bunnies tucked under my cardigan, it was pouring rain. I had their little bag ready.


And I cried, and I cried, and I cried.

Still crying.

I feel like Alice had something to do with my ‘meeting’ of these beautiful creatures.

I went down her rabbit hole.  A healing.  Being of service.  Loving something smaller and vulnerable.

And it happened with my mom.

‘Alice’ knew one of my favorite books (other than Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland) was Watership Down.


Sensible informative part of my emotional post:

If you see a baby w/out it’s mom … Wait!

Rabbits will abandon (temporarily) their young to redirect a predator.

The babies may not BE abandoned!

There is a LOT of work involved in raising wild rabbits – they NEED the environment for immunities and such.  So, it’s not ideal to try to raise one without doing MUCH research.

Rabbits are one of the few that DON’T abandon their young if you’ve ‘touched them’.  If you give one shelter for the night, and feel it’s safe to return, RETURN IT!

My situation was dictated by a storm, a very dangerous spot that I found them in and the fact that we have many predators … Otherwise, I would have left them alone.

Ok, maybe I would have watched to be sure mom came to get them, but, I would not have taken them inside if there was no other way.

I assure you.

Two babies live today – and wouldn’t have if I hadn’t taken them in.

Of that, I’m certain.

And thanks ‘Alice’ – you know who you are – even though you’re not reading this.  I think you put those babies in my path.


God rest ye gentle animals …

If I ever wished for a God, it’s for the innocent. The children, the lacking of mind and abilities and the animals.

The kindest, gentlest, most meek of us all.

My neighbor, I’ve spoken much about, (type ‘neighbor’ into my search bar for more info) became pet owners a while ago.

I say ‘owners’ with every intention of sounding spiteful and literal.

After knowing how they treated their children, I was incredulous when they walzted home a dog.  (This was shortly after having a break-in *rumor has it)

Dog turned out to be lovely. It’s name is Old Yeller.

It gets left out all the time.

It also gets ignored all the time.  Which is a GOOD thing now.   Because before, when the kids were allowed to ‘play’ out back, all it got was hit.

I don’t know where the children would find their footing now, the back yard is covered in feces.  NOT the dogs fault.

Let me clarify for those who haven’t been following along – I am not a curtain twitcher.   My main rooms have a front row seat to the neighbors antics.  My thin walls have a speaker bar of dysfunction into their home. 
I go outside with Butters when I’m home.  I’ll let her alone as long as I hear ‘quiet’ (oxymoron?)  but if she barks, I’m out there and on her.  I don’t want a fence runner – I also don’t want her or me/us (when Nic is home) hurt by what ever she’s barking about.

I pay renters insurance every month – which equals an entire months rent each year – to keep Butters.  I also paid a $200 pet deposit.  Because I was honest.  Because I am forthright.  Because I’m … stupid?

Neighbors got this dog and during my inspection – dog was noticed.  I was assured dog would not stay – I was not comfortable with that, considering the pound is not a utopia, but considering the yelling inside, the beatings outside, … perhaps even death was better.


Dog is still there.

Today, my son and I decided we needed to share a toy with it.

It has no toys.

“Okay, when you go take the garbage, toss the squeaky toy over the fence!”

Roger that.

Um, except, that didn’t work.

“Wait! Wait! I think they can see.”

(Time out … how sad is this that we have to go to such measures to get a toy to a dog? I mean seriously???)

After several attempts, I decided, pretend to play with Butters and ‘over throw’ a toy.

Yeah, I overthrew – lol – but it landed JUST outside the poor pups reach.

“Nic!  Get it!  Toss it!”

Nic went from the garbage area to the fence and swiftly scooped up the toy and launched it over the fence.

Then VERY quickly got in his car and bailed on my arse.

I don’t blame him.

I played with Butters outside longer than I would have – incase they came out.  Then I could have lied and said “Oh, yeah – sorry, he can keep that!”

Anyway – long and short of it is – this dog needs a new home.  And here he is when I got brave and shot some pics from our unscreened window. (So they’re really not great shots, but I think I captured his sweet and sour situation. And no, those aren’t chocolate chips amongst the kids toys)

Feces infested yard

Feces infested yard

A toy?

A toy?

It IS a toy!

It IS a toy!





And I’ll end with a shot of the door he scratches on … that he asks for attention at.



Such compliment – much WOW

“So a dog walks into a lobby …”

My lobby to be exact, and I as soon as I laid eyes on said dog the internet nerd that I am, recognized the breed and ‘fan-girled’ the hell out.

“OMG! Is your dog friendly? Can I touch it? Can I take a photo of your dog?”

Yes it was, Yes I could, and sure.

This is the internet version:



Dog wasn’t too interested in me petting it … or touching it to be honest.

I don’t force myself on animals. I don’t grab at them, leer at them or invade their space. 

I’m more of a ‘sit on the floor and offer an appendage then wait to see if they are interested in making contact’ type of girl.

So I sat on the floor, in my dress,  wondering ‘why doesn’t this dog like me? ALL dogs like me!’ Lamely continuing to hold out my hand like there was a chance it would change its mind.

It didn’t.

I told my son about it – his response:


Is that bad?  That my son and I speak ‘internet funnies’?  I knew what he meant obviously. It’s one of my favorites:


So while it wasn’t in the mood for accepting my hand or my love, it was in the mood for a quick photo session.

Here’s the mini-Shiba Inu (“mini-SHIBE!”)



But I digress … about that compliment.

Later in the day, I’m sharing this story with an agent – showing him the photos of the mini-‘doge’ and he proceeds to give me the biggest compliment I’ve had in a very long time.

What you need to know about this man is that he’s very ‘what you see is what you get’ –  to the point of having something awkward or unedited come out of his mouth from time to time.

(Gee, I’d know nothing about that – hold on, don’t slip on the sarcasm.)

Anyway, bottom line, he gets an A+ for authenticity from me.

I love that in a person.


Love it.

So he’s reminded of a dog themed email he sent me and asks if I got it.

He went on to explain that he sent it because he was sorry he was grumpy that day. 

The way he explained it went a little something like this. 

“You’re the bright, shiny thing here … and I felt bad that I was grumpy.”


I’m a bright shiny thing??

Day made.

I’m sharing this because too often we are unaware of what we may mean to someone.

And far too often we fail to tell someone what they mean to us.

I paid it forward by sharing with a dear friend how much they mean to me.

And then made sure to tell the man who complimented me just how much his words meant.

Good work should be complimented when noticed. 

It just takes a few seconds to appreciate someone!

It took six seconds for someone to make my day – and I’m still feeling bright and shiny.

Even though the dog didn’t want me to pet it.


Sleep deprived Buttery post

I could have sworn it was Saturday this morning.  It really ought to have been.  Nic was off for ‘April break’.  What IS that?  And why is it only one day? 

Anyway – I slept like a baby last night.  Woke up every 2 hours upset with something or another.  Not quite screaming.

Drama + Butters + Sinus Tachycardia + son chatting on his ipad = no Z’s.

(I mean, he was seriously chatting – full on – carrying his conversation buddy around the house. In a moment of delirium, I actually thought a girl was in the bloody kitchen with him.  Then I sussed it out.)

ANYWAY (she says again, and this time she means it)

My pitter pattering heart has been trying out all kinds of fun new ways to present itself to me lately.  ‘Ben Gay like warmth’ feeling … left armpit pain … then last night, it got sassy on the drums … brrrrrrrrm, burr, brrr-bump.  And then something in my chest grabbed a tambourine and started showing off.

A friend taught me to cough to get myself back into rhythm – so I lay there, coughing like a dork.

THEN there’s Butters.  Oh Butters. 


Don’t let this image fool you.  She does. not. sleep!

For two weeks or so – every few hours from 9pm until my alarm goes off at 6am (not that it’s had a chance to go off for the last week), she stands inches from my face and whines and wags. 

I get up, let her out – and then leave the flipping front door open so she can get back in. 


You see the crack?  And you’ve seen her nose – so seriously, WHY can’t she ‘nose’ her way back out?!?!  She sure as hell can do it when a cat walks w/in a mile of the house.

I might as well just put an ad on Craig’s List inviting any local wackos or serial killers to my insanely unsecure house at night.

“Come on in! Doors open!  I’ll just be in my room, trying to sleep.  Be as quiet as possible when you kill me.” 

Why does she sleep inside?  Our fence is chicken wire basically … I think intended for really apathetic, frail chickens.  And we have coyotes out and about. 

In between the fun excursions to the flipping door – the tiny snatches of sleep I grabbed onto, (which, resulted in nightmares) Waking up to Nic church mousin’ around the house and my heart getting all excited, I woke up (pffft … didn’t really ‘wake up’ so much as ‘give up’) none too pleased.

I tried to have a chat with her.


She didn’t care.  She assures me she’ll be doing it tonight too.  And the night after that, and the night after that. 

And the thought occurred … when she’s older, and not energetic  – probably I’ll miss the spry insomniac that she used to be.