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Gone to the dogs
I told you she could write – here’s my mum with her post. 🙂 Enjoy.
By Penny Hoskins
My sunrise friends and I are 0’dark 30 people. We’re up and out with our pups while most of you more sane (?) folk are still snoring away and dreaming of running free. Come On People! Get up, there are butts to sniff.
We’re a motley crew and just about all the pups have “issues”. Insanity, twisted humor and sarcasm runs rampant at this early hour. Nothing like laughter to start your day though. Mostly there’s a lot of pointing of fingers and laughing. Thin skinned people need not apply.
And the pups ~ We’ll start with Minnie. Minnie is a little Terrier (terror) mix who runs maniacally up and down the run barking threateningly at anyone who happens to walk, run or jog by. You should see her run up the fence, and I mean literally run UP the fence. Is she bigger than a bread box? Not much but this is the image that her potential victims see from their side of the fence.
If she likes you she’s a genuine sweetheart, but if she doesn’t well…..
Buffy is Minnie’s housemate. There’s really not a lot one can say about Buffy, she’s the geriatric of the pack. Doesn’t move much, Poke, poke, oh good she was just sleeping. If she so much as stands up her person will say “Careful Buff, pace yourself.” She does like to eat though, perks right up if there are treats around.
Katy, ahh Katy Love, a beautiful little Sheltie who has panic attacks every time someone sneezes. You feel that sneeze coming on, oh no, not now Katy’s here. So you try to hold it in, but somewhere from deep in the recess of your memory that thought that someone planted suddenly pops up, the one about holding in a sneeze creates pressure that backs up and you collapse and die from an aneurysm. Sorry Katy Love, can’t risk that so here it comes, and there she goes, twisting in tight little circles and barking fanatically. Apparently a microwave beeping has exactly the same effect.
Then there’s Roxy, “Psycho Dog”. A really, really weird dog who must have been dropped on her head when just a tiny pup. Roxy is a Lab/Pit/Screwball mix who is obsessed with water bowls. She collects them and brings one with here everyday in her human’s “slobbermobile”. Ignoring everyone and everything she immediately starts to play nose hockey with it. She’d do this all day if she could. She’ll put it in the paddling pool to wash it and chase it around then come out and wipe her dirty wet face on Minnie and Buffy’s person’s pants. Good dog Roxy. We thought about getting the other dogs to play this game so we could have our own Puppy Hockey Bowl (pun intended) but the others didn’t want to know, Minnie couldn’t decide, she’s still on the fence. Besides Roxy doesn’t like to share her bowl with anyone.
Ever met an Italian Shih Tzu? Meet Pecos, of Chinese ancestry, a Mexican name and an Italian personality. Pecos can’t speak without waving his little hands around. Well, I guess in his case it’s little paws. He has a lot to say as well, he joins in any conversation and with each bark his front end comes off the ground, his paws lift up as if to give emphasis to what he is saying. Need to get a word in? Just hold his little feet and he can’t speak, let go and off he goes again. Hold feet, quiet, let go, speak, hold, let go, hold let go, it’s really quite funny. He can also fly, oh yes he can, I heard you doubt that. Just ask that pigeon, oh I forgot, you can’t ask the pigeon because Pecos ate it, well a bit of it. Pigeon was taking flight when Pecos leaped up and grabbed that pigeon right out of the air. He’s a multi-talented dog.
Then there’s Meesha. Meesha is a Cocker Spaniel/Australian Shepherd, a cocky aussie. She’s a very discriminating dog, she discriminates freely against all newcomers. Sniff my butt, I’ll bite your face off. She’s a rabbit chaser, chief lizard hunter, and the only dog I know who will choke up a hairball because she’s constantly washing her kitty siblings. At the dog run when she’s not lying on the bench with legs dangling, or trying for round two with her arch enemy, a small pug who is also itching for round two, she will grab hold of her leash drop to the ground, tuck her front legs under her, stretch her rear legs out and insist on being dragged across the grass. A sled dog gone wrong. She also spends a lot of time with her head stuck up a drainage pipe. Butt in the air, she’ll whine and growl into it, which then echoes back at her, convincing her even more that there is something in there. One of the sunrise people put a stuffed toy in the pipe as a joke. Meesha grabbed it, ran off and buried her “kill”. she’s madly in love with Pecos’s human, who tells her everyday how pretty she is. Good grief, now we have a preening alpha.
We’re looking for a canine psychiatrist who might be willing to give us a bulk deal. They could all lie on the couch, which they’re all good at, and talk about their puppy-hoods.
Well, there you have it, you have now met just a very few of the early morning canine characters and some of their amazing quirky personalities. Normal? Maybe not. But who wants normal. Loyal, loving, entertaining definitely. Weird they all are, but weird and happy, very happy.
Sunday snapping Butters
Butters – my canine manatee and I had a quiet day inside. Too hot to be out, chores done. Both still – on our opposing couches.
I took the first photo of her on my ipad – her face mirroring my own boredom.
When I decided to get my ‘real’ camera out – she took off immediately, as she usually does, not wanting anything to do with it.
Then she came back – and was uncharacteristically cooperative. Toward the end of the ‘photo session’ she seemed to be posing for me – allowing me to lay on the ground, zooming in on her, clicking away as she stayed still.
I give you some of our moments.
Musings from the Laundromat: Friends & Change edition
I’m musing on my notepad since the internet connection is not connecting at the laundromat.
I was thinking on the way over, of change.
It’s amazing sometimes isn’t it, when we look back over the years, sometimes months or even just days and think ‘If I knew then that things would be so different now …”
Then what?
Nothing, that’s what.
You’d end up changing the outcome by knowing what it was supposed to be.
That whole seeing into the future thing is not a good idea.
If you knew a job wasn’t going to work out – you might quit before learning a valuable skill you needed for later.
If you knew a relationship wasn’t going to end up being your ‘forever after’, you might abandon it before experiencing new emotions, or becoming stronger for having made mistakes.
A song was on the radio in the car and it reminded me of someone.
I think about exes from time to time – then I segue off onto wondering if I ever cross their minds.
I hope I do.
They all meant something to me and always will.
So back to change …
Since the start of the year I have now been in 3 different jobs, gone from not knowing what life would be like without the constant that is my son, to living alone lately.
The thing that hasn’t changed, and rarely does, are the friends I have.
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I was surprised to hear a friend was coming to town that I usually only see once a year, usually Christmas time. It was literally Christmas in July to get to see her for dinner Sunday night!
On the heels of ‘friend Sunday’ came ‘inevitable Monday’ and a pretty rough week.
Work is amazing, I love my new position.
The logo I created was delivered and stuck to our freshly painted red wall … I remember the first time I was published and seeing the paper – yeah, it was a little like that.
I’m blurring so much here – but want you to see the logo at least. I assure you, the wall does not look like a horrid smudge of letters.
We’re still figuring out procedures and I’m still on a crash course of figuring out how to do what I do. This I have no problem with. I adapt. I learn quickly, that was no lie on my resume.
My forte is creation. Creation, progression and completion. Love it.
Needless to say though, even a whole day doing your favorite things can be exhausting.
I found myself coming home and sitting on the couch in a hyper-minded/numb-bodied state every evening.
On top of the exhilarating chaos that is the birth of a new company, we had ‘sabotage day’ or ‘Cablegate’ as I am thinking of it now.
Our suite connects to the old company we all worked for. It was sadly closing while we were opening. A very emotional thing to watch.
I get attached to people and routines. After 3 1/2 years, to see the people I care about slowly leaving, while an office that once thrived emptied to nothing but a shell – well, it wasn’t pleasant to say the least.
Our office parties, the holidays we shared, the smell of Thanksgiving turkey, the sounds of laughter – phones ringing, microwaves beeping, deliveries arriving – the hustle and bustle, Gone.
All gone now.
It was down to just the Broker this past week – and a trickling of agents bringing out the last of the items going with them.
One morning I arrived to the news that the keys to the mail box were missing and all the drawers had been left open.
Did I know where they were? No, I did not.
Also the internet was down.
No problem, I told the Broker he could use our WIFI, I would give him the code.
I finally made it into our suite only to discover that our internet was not working either … nor our phones.
The utility closet that houses the cables and technical ‘things’ is located in the old office.
And it was locked.
And that key shared the key chain that had gone missing.
A locksmith was called out and after summoning the internet technicians out too, the long and short of it is that someone had come in the night and left a final ‘F-you!’ for us. (Yes, we have a very good idea who it was – no, we have no proof)
Equipment lay on the floor of the closet and various pieces hung from the wall. Then, discovered hidden in the ceiling, the recently cut wires that connected our suite to the outside world.
The police were called – locks were changed and a temporary fix was made to attach cables to the frayed ends of the severed ones.
Sabotage.
A lot of talk about karma came up. I’m of the mind that anyone angry enough or capable of such a crime already has to live with themselves.
We were back up and running and were not going to let that set-back have anymore power (or lack of) over us than it deserved.
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Friday arrived and I was ready for a relaxing weekend.
I climbed out of my car, came through my gate and opened the front door.
And was greeted by – silence.
Butters was nowhere to be seen – or heard. And trust me, my hairy manatee is an excitable girl. She wriggles and whines and leaps at my return.
I had locked the door so she couldn’t be out?
Then slowly, a small noise and as I set my purse down, she limped out of my bedroom.
She hadn’t eaten – hadn’t taken a drink from her water bowl. Her tail hung between her legs and she moved gingerly.
I dropped to the floor beside her and started an examination – and to my horror, she let me.
I’ll try to describe her exuberance … I can’t get a leash on her in any time under 20 minutes. Trying to get her to stay still for her collar after a bath is like trying to hold back a herd of children at the Disneyland gates.
And she lay there – letting me probe between her pads for burrs – press her leg to test for warmth or tender spots.
I could see nothing out of the usual.
She then left me to lay in the bathroom. Not limping. (Perhaps she had just been laying awkwardly on it before I got home?) Now she was listless, shivering and unmoving.
I checked her ears, her eyes, her gums, her stomach … all the while wondering “What will I do? How will I afford to get her care??” And telling her – “Don’t you leave me.”
My eyes welled with tears as I reached out to the online community for ideas.
My friend that ‘always knows when to show up’ threw some clothes on and abandoned her Friday night after her own long week, and headed over to be with us.
Butters perked up a little.
“Maybe she’s depressed.” Said my friend.
She had a point.
Life as she had known it had changed too.
From having the run of the yard all day to being shut indoors – and the absence of her boy. Big changes for a little canine world.
Perhaps she was just depressed.
By the time my friend left, she seemed to have perked up. I stayed up with her until after 1 a.m. to be sure.
The next morning she was herself again.
Just like that!
I quickly went to the grocery store returning with lots of dog treats – cleaned the house and just as I finished Butters barked at the front door. (Music to my ears to hear her vocalize by the way.)
In walked my friend holding coffee and polystyrene boxes.
“I brought brunch.”
We sat across from each other and shared half of each box. Butters was treated to some bacon.
“My heart is smiling at my stomach right now,” I said. “This is right up there – top 10 happiest moments.”
And it was.
My dog was okay, my friend had showed up and the food was amazing.
Before she left I added, “You’re her favorite person that comes over.”
“I’m the only person who comes over.”
I had to laugh at that.
Point well made – but things change. Could be in a few months that I don’t even live here anymore.
But I can count on who will walk through my front door.
I can always count on my friends.
And I don’t want to know the future – because I might miss something getting there.
Until next time –
Musings from the Laundromat: Innocence lost – From Shar Pei to Smooth (and crunchy) Criminal
Butters and I have a delightful ‘thing’ we do.
Every night during the Summer, when the sun goes down – I say to her “Wanna go see your lizards??” She understands this and eagerly stands wagging at the front door.
It’s adorable.
The porch light attracts a myriad of Summer winged bugs and is prime real estate for Summer winged bug eaters.
We have a little family (maybe their not related – maybe it’s more of a commune?) of lizards living above the light, just under the eaves.
Butters will run out, sit staring at the wall and jump up to interact with one if she spots it.
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Last year she accidentally killed one – she placed it in her outdoor day bed and curled up with it. It was the most heartbreaking thing to witness.
Dead lizard, belly up – drying in the sun.
Dog treating it like a pup.
I let her grieve for her lost friend for a day or two, then disposed of it.
Last night, before bed – I asked ‘Wanna see your lizards?’
We stepped outside and she flew at the wall and BAM!
She must have nailed it just right.
Those manatee lips of hers may be cute, but they seem to be an impairment when it comes to getting anything flat or small past them and into her mouth.
Porch light lizard, (that I didn’t even have a chance to see) successfully (or, unsuccessfully from its point of view I’m sure) arrived in the mouth of my dog.
I stood in horror.
I thought she would spit it out – and what was I going to do to end the suffering of a mangled lizard??
No need to have worried myself with that ‘what if’.
My innocent, lover-not-a-fighter, cowardly manatee started chewing.
Intently.
I was still stood staring and my eyes widened with every crunch.
She then trotted over to her water bucket and delicately drank – it was like watching someone gingerly dab their lips with a fine linen napkin after tearing into a slab of raw meat.
It was then I noticed she had not devoured all of it.
I was disgusted – my stomach roiling.
Then I remembered she sleeps with me.
I was not taking any chances.
While she doesn’t often snuggle too close, many nights I wake to her standing inches away from my face, breathing heavily.
I washed her face – lips and tongue – and tossed a dental hygiene bone on the carpet for her.
I wonder if the other lizards have noticed their friend is missing??
What if I find tiny little ‘lost’ posters near the porch light tonight?!?
What if they spot the tail at the scene and surmise there was a struggle?
I shall have to get rid of the evidence.
Which makes me an accomplice to my canine criminal.
*sigh*
We interrupt this hamster …
Nic bought himself a hamster on his birthday.
Yesterday I tried to worm my way into its heart by offering it a sweet potato Triscuit as it’s been hissing at me. Of course, it was asleep – so I placed it on its ‘food deck’.
Nic: Are you trying to buy her love?
Me: Yes
Nic: Well I’m taking credit for that Triscuit
Me: You’d better tell her that was from me!!!
This thing doesn’t so much ‘hiss’ as manages to get a sound out of its throat that resembles a velociraptor and that croaking thing from The Grudge.
Sort of like this: http://youtu.be/-fzfT4iDGTM
But with more of this thrown in: http://youtu.be/hMvFo4cd02o
It’s name is “Scarlett”.
That isn’t what I named it on the drive home from the pet shop.
I drove Nic’s car so that he could sit on in the passenger seat with the rodent carrier box on his lap.
“Mom! Careful of the bumps!” Really? Really Nic. I drive expertly. Hmph!
His newly acquired pet scratched on the box the entire way home. I lovingly named her Scratchy and wasn’t budging – until yesterday.
Her new name is Satan.
I had my reservations about this new pet. Not because she’s a rodent – I love rodents. I’ve been the proud rodent mom to a long history of rats, mice, hamsters …
***Breaking News – We interrupt this blog entry to announce that a random male laundromat patron has just chosen to sit DIRECTLY behind me in a rogue chair, no less than a foot away! If anything happens to me, he can be found with a blue plastic laundry hamper – and a size 10 flip-flop mark on his forehead if he gets any closer.***
Back to the reservations.
Like most moms, any new pet that crossed our threshold was OH so loved and enjoyed for about a week – and then it magically became mine.
My fish bowls to clean, my fish to feed, my mouse to cedar chip etc. OH! Speaking of cedar chips
You know what? This is useless. I can feel that man … it is really hard to write.
I just got up, had to literally try not to back up into his foot, and went to check on my laundry. It was done – and in a brief moment when he wasn’t looking at me – I snapped this photo. I’m sitting at the red table, with my back to him … you can see the close proximity of his chosen spot.
Seriously guy – it’s a HUGE laundromat! Add to that, he keeps clearing his throat. It’s like having a teacher lean uncomfortable over you during class.
I have 14 minutes remaining on the driers – I shall stand awkwardly staring at the time elapsing until it’s time to go. Because even though I could just MOVE to another table, I don’t want to hurt his feelings! This is how fucked up I am. I can’t even scoot away from a possible predator without thinking about how they might feel about it.
Debauchery Soup 