Sunday, September 28, 2008
Saturday, September 27, 2008
Doggie Heaven is getting crowded with my friends. Mr. Bono did not go easy.
Mr. Bono was a barking dog. It's what he did. He took it seriously. Even during his bath. But he was soft and I could bury my whole face in his side after he was dry and only my hair would be out of the sweet softness.
I'll be washing Skinner and Holly next week and I'll see how they are coping with their friend's departure. It will be too quiet. I know that already.
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Yeah, That's right suckers...I just faked that whole thing and I'm actually just fine. Not even sad. Now give me some chocolate milk or I'll do that at the grocery store next time.
Good. Now that we understand each other things will go much better than before. With all the time outs and toy impoundings. Sheesh.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
By the way, I guarantee that Sunny's book above was better than mine.
And it seems like I've been driving behind this guy all week so far.
But I did fall in love with some new doggies. Below is Gabby. She was visiting one of my customers while her owner jaunted around the world. So, she might have been a little needy. Maybe she didn't fall in love with me as hard as I did with her. And it certainly was a wash 'm and leave 'm relationship for us...but she was so sweet. And really silky soft. Like those freakishly soft teddy bears you can win at the state fair. Sunny has meeelions of them in many colors. They're made of eyelashes or something. So was Gabby. The picture below is obviously before I cleaned up all the eye goobers and beard crust.
Lena below is saying, "Nyah nyah. I'm gonna stand in the sun because I know you're a vampire now and can't be in the sun ever."
Yeah well. I might be turning into a vampire a little bit. I might have to move to Ireland or something. Pat? What do you say? You can get one of those really thick wetsuits and write a novel about a surfer in Ireland solving a murder mystery and make a million dollars...happily ever after. No more hot itchy peeling skin.
On a much more positive note, albeit a loud note, we got some new birds. They are two peach-faced Love Birds. The one hiding in the back is Pumpkin Head. He's much friendlier now. And the one all up in your face (Pat calls it getting "up in your grill") is Squirrel. They are my new muses. I'm going to draw and write about them. I love love love them.Oh, yeah and we also got a cheetah while we were at the pet store.
See how Sunny celebrated my brother's birthday last Friday?
That's Mark's 11th grade picture. About 1986. Tee hee. That picture is who Mark is in my head no matter what he looks like or wears or how much hair is up there. I was 11. We had a complicated relationship. I basically bugged the hell out of him every day after school until Mom and Dad came home from work. I drove him away with my adoration. And whining. And annoyish-ness. And by stealing his cds. If I lived closer to him I would still be stealing his cds. That must be why he's going digital with his music these days. He sent me an ITunes store card for my birthday. I got Beck, Isobel Campbell (Belle & Sebastian cellist) and Journey.
Mark always gives me good books to read. So you guys want to know how to practically help me? Suggest a good novel for me to read. No self help or non fiction please. Fiction. And I'll read it and then blog about it. K?
And Christy, I'm going to mail you some dog towels to wash. Jason, whip up some heat n serve dinners and fed ex at dinner time. Fern, can you come fill my dog van with water every morning and make sure the water heater is turned on and the red light is working and there's no moisture near the electrical box. Adriana, You ride along with me and take photos and the get a picture book deal and become a millionaire and then give me expensive gifts. Dan, deliver a box of Fudgsicles to my house every Friday night at 7pm. Megan, can you come scoop Lucy's litterbox? Like, now. It stinks.
I'm gonna peel till my fingers bleed.
Then I'm going to wrap each gooey body in bubble wrap.
Then I'm gonna march to the post office and mail...no wait
Then I'm gonna drive my dog van to Indiana and knock on your door
I'll stop at Cracker Barrel and get some honey on the way
Monday, September 22, 2008
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Was useless Saturday. Slept for five hours on Vicadin and then was awake until 3:30 AM with pain and anxiety about the pain. Oh yeah, and the tears.
Today I was suppose to take Sunny to the circus. She wants to be a clown she says. That's why she's always beeping my nose she says. She thinks the clowns will ride their tiny bike on the high wire she says.
Pat was suppose to jam with his band while I took Sunny to the circus today. He printed out all the banjo and ukulele faves to take along.
Pat is taking Sunny to the circus today. I am here in dirty clothes. With a dirty dog. A cat with fleas. Muppet orange striped socks (color therapy). A cup of cold yerba mate tea that looks unappetizing and maybe the chocolate soy milk has gone bad.
Maybe when I had my c-section four and a half years ago the dr. left some surgical knife under my ribcage on the right side. But, what did he leave between my shoulder blades? Or do I have wings budding from within and unfurling (painfully I might add) to soon break through that freckled shell and let me soar?
I'm missing the elephants. The clowns. The acrobats.
Sunny's face when she sees them all for the first time in her life.
Friday, September 19, 2008
David is this incredible woman that has helped me enormously in this past "rough patch" in my life by teaching me that everyone else's problems are not my effing problems.
Every time I saw David Bowie she would offer to help me. But when she discovered my blog and read for herself how stressed out I was daily... she outdid herself.
Recently God told me to start accepting healthy offerings of kindness from people in my life.
I hesitated for a few weeks before saying, "sure God. I'll give it a tiny try."
The first thing I said yes to was David Bowie's offer to help me return customer calls because I was having panic attacks about the phone. My own fun version of crazy.
She also gave me $50 to get a massage. After paying me to wash her dogs. And getting a list of frustrated dog owners to call.
Today I washed David Bowie's dogs. When I got there David showered me with her funny warm welcoming spirit.
Then she said, at 9:00 in the morning, "You want me to make you a grilled cheese sandwich?" She started laughing, "You look like you need a grilled cheese sandwich and I've got this bread to die for!" She was practically at the stove already when I said, "I'm going to say yes, customer, I would love a grilled cheese sandwich!" She was still laughing, "I know. It's crazy huh?! You'll love it!"
Sure enough, a few minutes into trimming her doggy's little bon-bon feet hair (Papillon Toes!!)
and here comes David Bowie, beautiful baking goddess with the golden crusty bread with golden cheese smiling at me from the plate. A bottle of cold water. Three napkins.
I stared out the window at Morro Rock And ate four perfect melty triangles.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Well, Chrissie wasn't one of those dogs I could take a picture of while grooming. There were no moments I could sneak my camera out and snap her. She was an aerobic job for me. So Blue above is her pictoral stand-in.
Look at Blue and imagine he's about ten years older with lung cancer. Wasted to almost nothing but long huge fur and a sore skeleton underneath.
Sorry. It really was that bad for her.
Yesterday I really struggled thinking about Chrissie and the role I played in her end life.
See, I didn't know she had lung cancer. Neither did her owners until a week or so ago. But we all knew she had lost a lot of weight and was not comfortable.
Chrissie hated to be groomed. I think her owners would have skipped it altogether and just let her be a rastafarian dog but she was unable to regulate her own body temperature like other dogs. No matter what the season Chrissie was miserably hot. Until I showed up and gave her a puppy cut.
It took three hours the first time because she was so mad at me. But her life enjoyment improved so much that they got on a regular schedule to keep her in that haircut all year. Every six weeks I had to put Chrissie through hell.
I wish I could have given her a massage instead. I can still feel her backbone in my hands. I didn't say goodbye last time I saw her.
Friday, September 12, 2008
See, due to respecting my Mom and trying to generally live in peace on a daily basis, I avoid all political talk with her.
But, since I have recently set myself out as a warrior for boundaries I decided to send an email back to my family.
Here's part of what it said:
I would like to just set a boundary here and until the election is over. We know as a family that we don't all agree on politics. I think we all feel passionate and could get into many a hearty debate (remember our fun Michael Moore discussion a few years ago?).
You three go ahead if you want. I'm bowing out of the familial presidential election. I've just adjusted to my new antidepressant and am trying to limit the things that make me feel like a pile of sludge.
I love you all. But I'm out of the race as of now.
Your Secret Muslim Daughter and Sister,
Today was a really really bad day. I didn't get home from work until 8 PM. My back hurts so bad that I have been in tears several times.
Whatever...it's Friday. I've set a boundary. I've had a piece of pizza. Yes, my back is spasming, but I'm going to take a bath for a long long time.
There is toilet paper in the bathroom but no clean towels.
You take the good you take the bad.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Friday, September 5, 2008
Thursday, September 4, 2008
Speaking of which, see what he does after his bath. He jumps out of the van:
He stops drops and rolls:
Then the other way:
Little more on this side:
Then under the shrub this way:
And that way:
And back to where I found him when I drove up 90 minutes ago.
Love that Beau.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Don't cry Sunny! Click.
That's it. Let me see your smile. Click.
Not so close. Sunny. Don't spit rice at the camera! Click.
Ahhhhh! Take it! Take the camera! Just let me eat my fish tacos . . . and all the food you aren't going to eat no matter how long we stay in this restaurant and look at the fish in the tank and you ask why we look at fish and eat them in our tacos at the same time and then I get a headache. Click.
(end of poem--don't snap your fingers here because no one ever does that in poetry today. It's been fifty years since people snapped after crappy Beat poems. Stop snapping people! And stop rhyming!) Ahem.
By the by, we took Sunny's tiny small chicken taquito home and she never did finish it. I found our cat Chairman Mao-ing on it at about 10:00 pm. Oh great. Now I'll be on the lookout for cat vomit. I'll find it when I'm not wearing any shoes or socks. Cuz' that's how you find cat puke. On your feet before the cussword fountain in your face starts flowing.
Tuesday, September 2, 2008
We all went to Symphony By The Sea in Avila Beach on Sunday afternoon. Sunny and Pat were secret Muslims. I've been wearing this scarf a lot lately because I'm still having severe sun reactions (itch, swell, hurt, burn...). Every time I wear it into public on my head Pat says I'm a secret Muslim. I have a customer that showed her political colors today and let's just say if she saw me in the pretty yellow headscarf below she probably wouldn't let me wash her dog anymore.
Sunny played strip-Crazy 8's with Grandma and lost.
Phoebe was a bit naughty. A bit. She's one of those unique dogs that can manage to bite through the muzzle. But she only had to wear it for about five minutes while I massaged her shoulder and she finally relaxed. She was scared for me to touch her feet. I did not manage to cut her nails. In fact, I did not manage to finish the haircut.
I had to put her back inside with a note explaining that I couldn't finish the job. It was too dangerous and I was going to really hurt my back trying to dodge her head butts and scratches.
This is what she looked like when I was done with her first side.
This is what she looked like when I finished her second side.
She didn't even wake up when I put the cone back on her head. [I know the picture is pathetic but both dogs have this obsessive foot-licking condition and they are trying to let those injuries heal--the massage is helping with that, too.]
I was going to hike Black Mountain tonight but the sweat will not be acceptable for my insanely itchy hot rash on my neck.
I think I might be turning into a vampire.