I may have crossed a line

But before I get to that, I must show you what horror I had to endure on Halloween. I'm pleased with myself that I've gotten the Halloween pictures up before Christmas (hold your applause).

Silas has wanted to be the Predator from the Alien vs. Predator movies for two years now. This year I finally got it together and found the mask and hands for him. Sidenote: Do NOT, ever, google 'child predator hands'. Google does not know you mean predator costume. Back to your regularly scheduled post. And we can all thank his father for letting him watch such a scary movie. You have no idea how many arguments have ensued in our household over this. His defense? "He doesn't know what he's watching". I beg to differ. Anyway, sorry, end of tangent.

So hold onto your hats, ladies and gents. This is the extremely scary and somewhat nauseating costume my six year old wanted:

He has the helmet with the dread locks on it, but chose not to wear it. I have no idea why. The poor thing was absolutely mortified when a little girl took one look at him, screamed, and ran to her mother. He pulled his mask off, fell to his knees, and told her "it's just me. I'm just a little boy. I won't hurt you".

Now on to the line I may have crossed.

I have put the dogs in pajamas.

I know. You don't have to say it. I'm just not sure if there's a way back from this.

I've painted the bully's toenails. I've put bows in the spaniel's ears. (are those apostrophe's right?) (Is that one?) Someone get me a punctuation teacher and have me a baby. That should solve both problems, don'tcha think?

At least they're cute pajamas, right?

New discoveries

Cavaliers don't like to swim. No.... no, they don't.

Hey Look! It's a post that's NOT about my back!

It's about how pharmaceuticals can make life bearable when without them, you are in agony. It's about how boring life can be when you can't do what you want, when you want. In other words, I'm soooooooo boooooorrrreeeedd. I can't think properly, so the reading isn't going so good. I have managed to start selling things on ebay though. How fun is that? People are paying big bucks for stuff I don't want anymore! I haven't quite figured out the shipping thing though. I think 'oh, this is small. I should be able to ship it for $5', then I get to the post office and he's all 'that'll be $10.50', and I'm all 0-o? (that's my confused face)

And I called a water delivery service to get the pool filled. Um, no. I refuse to pay $1000 for water. So I pulled the hose over and dropped it in and it should be full by August. My water usage isn't metered. I pay $56 a month whether I use none, or say, 23,000 gallons. Which, coincidentally, happens to be the amount my pool holds. So, at the rate it's running now, it should be full by mid-May. I am being considerate and only running it at night (only because I like my neighbor and want her to have water pressure during the day).

Let's see, what other trivial minutiae can I enthrall you with? Did I mention the boredom? and that my thought processes feel like they're under water? Am I making any sense at all? don't answer that. humor me.

The illustrious Betty Boop is going to the vet tomorrow for a pupectomy. She is the victim of an immaculate conception. That dog was never out of my presence the whole time she was in season, but I swear she's pregnant. Her little belly is all poofy and she's eating like a little pig. She has to be spayed no matter, so we'll see.

Remember when I was going to get a tattoo on the inside of my wrist? Of course you do. Well, I'm glad I didn't. Because for some reason, now when I see the word "BREATHE", I see BREATHE. See it? EAT. Now that I've seen it, I can't unsee it. And I need no reminders to eat, thankyouverymuch. Wouldn't that suck? Especially to have it permanently rendered on a place that can't easily be covered. So now I'm thinking of using my meditation mantra, which is "Let It Be". Maybe I'll write it on with a sharpie first, just to make sure. Thoughts?

OK, I'll put you out of your misery. I'm out of miscellany. Peace.

The untimely demise of Katharine Hepburn

The following events occurred several weeks ago. I was just in too much pain to relive it by telling the story. As time is wont to do, it has made the pain fade somewhat. But never the memory.

My cutest puppy in the world, Katharine Hepburn, was killed accidentally. I was walking her in the yard when she saw a squirrel. Her collar had been loosened earlier, I suppose by playing with one of the labs. As spaniels do, she took off after the squirrel, slipping out of her collar. She ran directly under the rear wheels of Sam's truck as he was turning up the drive. To say we were devastated is an understatement. I got to hold her in my arms for her final minutes and tell her how much I loved her and what a wonderful dog she was and how so very, very sorry I was. And then I lost my shit.

And my mind. I saw her everywhere, curled up on my pillow, peeking out from under the bed, everywhere. I truly believe that her death was the catalyst that sent me right over the edge. That loosened my tenuous (at best) grip on sanity and/or reality. That sent me to the psychiatrist for medication I obviously needed before she died.

Once I stabilized a bit, I started looking for another dog. One just like her. Morbid as that sounds, it made perfect sense to me at the time. I had to have her back, somehow. I imposed upon the ever patient and understanding Candy to contact friends of hers who raise that breed. I went to every website that catered to Cavaliers looking for a tri-color female. It took me three years to find Katharine Hepburn, so my hopes were not high. While the breed itself isn't rare, the tri-color females are hard to get. (Well, I could have had my pick of many if I were willing to pay upwards of $2000. Distraught as I was, I retained some sense). As luck, or fate, or whatever stirring of the winds you chose to believe in had it, I found her.



Meet Betty Boop. She's snuggled in the paws of my ancient Rottie Athena, who is in desperate need of a pedicure. She is sweet and beautiful. She has many of the same mannerisms of her predecessor, but she isn't her. And I won't dishonor Katharine Hepburn's memory by pretending she is. But I will pour all of the love I had for Katharine Hepburn to her.