Suzy Says

The other night, Megan and Rob were fast asleep. It was, after all, 1 am, a perfectly reasonable hour to be doing so. In fact, most of us expect most of us to be doing just that.

They were yanked out of sleep by Star barking her head off. Now, neither of their dogs are barkers. Megan has put a lot of effort into making sure of this. I used to laugh at how she’d sneak out of sight when she left them in the car and then come back to admonish them if they barked, but now that I’m in town a lot more, I really appreciate this. Not a day goes by without senselessly barking dogs.

It turns out that Star had every reason to bark. Rob opened the little purple door to reveal a strange man standing on the porch. And I do mean strange. He told Rob some tale about his father and a gun and a few other things, then asked for a cigarette.

Rob cheerfully lied that there were no smokes on the premises, and then suggested that the guy call the cops. He mumbled something and shuffled off into the darkness, with both Rob and Megan wondering a) What the hell just happened here? and 2) Hope he doesn’t head to Suzy’s place.

He didn’t; or at least he chose not to come in any of the five unlocked doors at his disposal. Of course, cats don’t bark, so I can’t be sure, but I don’t think we had any midnight visitors.

The whole thing is really odd, though. We live more than five miles down a narrow, rough, barely paved road from a town where the latest thing open is the store, which closes at 6 in the winter. There are no bars or nightclubs within dozens of miles (or more). There are no streetlights. He would have had to go all that way down the road, and then choose our driveway, which is nothing but a dirt/mud track with giant rocks filling the potholes (Mark’s latest repair effort).

He had to pass the front house, which is usually unoccupied, though huge, and nearly always has a light on, and then pick the little offshoot that leads to Megan and Rob’s place. Theirs is the only house which isn’t on the main driveway, which makes the whole thing even odder. Mine is the most obvious after the front house, and I always have a light on at night. Megan and Rob don’t.

Go figure.

They say this has never happened to them in the many years they have lived here, and our brother says the same. I don’t think it will happen again, and in any case, nothing really did happen. I’m not going to fit locks to my doors (or, more likely, have Rob do it). But it’s certainly a mystery, country-style.

This year was about change: getting the jobette; swimming lessons; having to make peace with driving a lot more. Change is good, right?

One deleterious effect of working more is reading less. I read 118 books in 2011, vs. 140 in 2010. The favorites of the year were Sue Grafton’s “V Is for Vengeance” and Candice Millard’s tour de force, “Destiny of the Republic”.

We are also getting a lot less rain this season. Last year, we totalled about 60 inches (or 153 centimeters), and already had half of that by December 31, 2010. This year, we’ve gotten about 11 inches (28 centimeters) so far. I don’t think I’m going out on a limb here by saying there’s probably a drought in my future. Number of power outages: 3. So far this season: 1, and an early one at that.

It was a great summer, though: lots of sun, little fog, no heat waves.

As far as last year’s resolutions went: not bad. I did a lot of work on the garden, though there are more things I’d like to do, given time and money, always in short supply. I still worry about the cats, and probably always will, to some extent. The loss of the beautiful and beloved June was traumatic, and, as Jessica pointed out to me, I’m a worrier. Maybe I should just embrace my inner (outer?) worrier.

This year’s resolutions are to reinstate Thursday dinners for my overworked sister – they fell by the wayside with the increased busy-ness of my schedule – and to spend more time with my brother when there’s no project to be done or special occasion to be celebrated. I always have a great time with him, but I don’t see him often enough.

And, you know, keep working on the garden and trying to minimize Calamity Suzy episodes.

Let me know what your resolutions are. And thanks for reading yet another year!

January:

How to plant tulips. Logging road walk. A check-up for the kittens. A walk with Schatzi. The beginning of A’s life-threatening illness. Another vet visit. A walk through the Village. A surprise visit from Jessica! Falling off a log really is easy. Dealing with two broken fingers: not so much. They still look freaky and witch-like. A brief trip to San Francisco. A is improving.

February:

Back in touch with the outside world. A finally gets out of Intensive Care. And I get the jobette! The boys make a windmill. Week One at the jobette. A’s slow recovery continues. Beautiful new garden chairs. A rare and magical snow day!

March:

A quick tour of the jobette. A graduates from Intensive Care to the HIghly Dependent Unit. Tragedy strikes our sister city in Japan. Doin’ it Rob style. Signs of spring. My beloved father’s 80th birthday. It’s not snow this time, it’s hail! The painting saga. Flooding. The week in pictures. Spring arrives in the garden.

April:

The painting problem is solved – at least, for now. Power outages. Little salon in the big woods. A is finally in a regular hospital ward, while Clyde is a little limpy. A nice little burn to go with my broken fingers. Jessica’s birthday! My blog’s 10th birthday! First BBQ of the year. A sad and loving farewell.

May:

The fabulous circus. New contact lenses. A walk through town. Star’s birthday. My tulips in bloom. Countrified. Fabulous garage sale finds. Girls’ night out. A short visit to San Francisco. The magnificent Balenciaga exhibit. Back home. Megan’s birthday. Car troubles – and a birthday celebration.

June:

Car trouble and bad weather. Truly rural. Bi-coastal. Rainy birthday to me. Happy first birthday to the boys! Rob is scheduled for more surgery. An evening with Erica and Jessica. Rose’s chicken curry. Unveiling the clock of ages. Rob’s surgery is rescheduled. The operation. Back home. Houdini lives!

July:

Audrey turns four. Found poetry. Both Rob and A are on the road to recovery. Kitty updates. Home improvements. Jessica visits the jobette. Musical contrasts. Erica and Jessica move to Portland (~sob~). The last Harry Potter movie ever.

August:

Propane prettifying. Encore de car. A change of address. Garden updates. The tenth anniversary of my father’s untimely and completely unnecessary death. I love you and miss you, Old Bear. More car fixing (or not). The bliss of Brian. Star meets quail.

September:

Mark’s seizure. He has epilepsy and is taking meds for it. So far, so good. Thank goodness. Free palms. The Houdini dog expands her repertoire. Planting the palms. The joys of aquafit. The delights of the County Fair. Clyde takes it on the chin. A visit from the generator fairy. A total meltdown.

October:

The car is finally fixed. I hope. Swimming clinic doesn’t go quite as swimmingly as I’d hoped. Car-share begins (and is still going on). The plague descends. My second anniversary of moving to Hooterville. The arrival of Turbo, Mark’s horse.

November:

Pool problems. Feeding the family. Meetings in San Francisco. Too tired to shop. A delightful day. Back home. The lowdown on high beams. Star and Megan are both stars. Thanksgiving Eve. A happy Thanksgiving. An early season blackout.

December:

Sunny days and sparkling nights. A look around the garden. An amazing experience. Girls’ Night In. A sudden loss. Up with the tree! An adventurous evening. And a tree adventure. Christmas cheer. A magical evening. The wit and wisdom of Jessica.

That’s it for 2011. Wishing you all a happy and healthy new year!

The day after Christmas, I was surprised to be the first one up. I had expected the eight year old to be hopping and popping in the way that eight year olds do. Sometimes I think we’re born with all the energy we’re going to have and just use it up as we go along, dying when we finally run out of the supply. Certainly I was less bouncy at 48 than I was at 8. At least at 8 am.

Coming quietly down the stairs from the sleeping loft, I could see Paul asleep on the air mattress and Erica and Jessica looking like angels on the bed of nails, also known as the sofabed. When I apologized for the bed of nails-ness, Jessica said, “It’s like sleeping on air! And air is so comfortable!”

I was just pouring a second cup of coffee when I saw Jarrett walking by the sliding glass doors with a mountain of laundry. I went to meet him in the laundry room/pantry/cat dining room and we chatted for a while as he started the first of five loads of laundry. Somewhere between the third and fourth loads, I wondered how and when I had become Mom. At least I did it without stretchmarks and exorbitant college tuition.

By the time I returned to the living room, a second pot of coffee was being made and Erica was dispensing toast. Jessica was definitely the most lively at that point, the grown-ups, the house, and the garden looking a lot like that Katy Perry song “Last Friday Night”.

Caffeinated and toasted, Erica and Jessica started to pack up and get ready for the 12 hour road trip ahead of them. I tried to hide their gorgeous dog Lucy to no avail:

They adopted her from the pound many years ago, but she turns out to be some fancy breed called Munsterhound. She may well be the most beautiful and softest dog I have ever seen. All I can say is if there were a whole breed of Lucys, they would all be made into fur coats. Erica had the same thought.

It was hard not to cry as the car packed with fabulous girls made its way down the driveway, but Megan and I are hoping to drive up to Portland this summer.

Jarrett headed home in the early afternoon with a car full of clean clothes, but Paul stayed for a day or two, definitely helping that after Christmas let-down. He might also come back next week, so there’s still something to look forward to.

Star showing off her skills

I’m pleased to announce that Star passed her American Kennel Club Canine Good Citizenship test. With flying colors! On her first try! It’s all the more impressive considering her past. Sometimes I’m still amazed by what a happy, loving dog she is after all she went through, and how much she has changed in the year and a half since Megan and I rescued her one beautiful spring day.

Megan has worked really hard with Star, including the eight week class that led up to the test. The test is given nationally, so every dog in the country who passes has met the same standard. You can read more about the CGC program here.

If/when Megan gets a new (to her) car, she’ll sign Star up for advanced classes, but for now, it’s enough to have the yellow bandanna and the accreditation. A gold Star for our Star!

In other dog-related news, Megan and Monica were on the radio last Thursday morning, talking about their work with Daisy Davis Pit Bull Rescue. The radio station doesn’t stream on computers – what else do you expect in a place with no cell phone service? – so Rob and I huddled in the car with the radio on and listened together.

The girls did great, both sounding calm and assured, a real feat for poor Megan, who had just finished the last of four consecutive 12 hour shifts in the ER and showed up at the radio station in her scrubs. “I just hope no-one bleeds on me tonight,” she said to me the night before.

The DJs were so impressed that they invited them back, and, best of all, gave them a check for $150, inviting listeners to match the donation. I am so proud of Monica, Megan, and Star.

Today marks the second anniversary of my moving to Hooterville.

What better way to celebrate the occasion than a walk with my sister and Schatzi on the headlands of the Village?

Come on, let’s go!

Here’s the Village. If it weren’t for the cars, it could be the 1800s:

Here you can see the remains of a dock. Because of the rocky shoreline, loggers and visitors had to basically zipline from the ship to the shore, standing on a tiny wooden platform. I’ve seen pictures of Victorian ladies doing it with an air of surprising insouciance.

Schatzi wasn’t quite as interested in the view as I was:

I tried to capture how her brindle looked like the fall grasses in the sunlight. Also her beautiful smile:

I feel so lucky to live somewhere so beautiful:

And to share my life with such wonderful family, friends, dogs, and cats.

Mugshot

Megan was getting ready for work when she discovered that she couldn’t find her handbag.

In all fairness, it must be said that she is a little careless of it at times. Mostly it lives on the backseat floor of her car, just as her keys live in the ignition, except when she’s at work. How else would you know where they are? And when it’s sunny, she often leaves the car doors open so the car doesn’t get too hot inside.

We knew she had her bag when we were buying the last-minute items for our brother’s belated birthday barbecue, but we couldn’t remember seeing it after that. She and Rob scoured their house-ette and the car while I called the store.

No luck. Megan was late for work, so she had to leave after borrowing some money for lunch – when you work a 12 hour shift, you have to eat twice while at work, so planning is necessary, especially in a place where everything is closed overnight.

After she left, Rob was watering the garden when he stumbled over something.

It was Megan’s wallet.

Then he came across the little pouch with her hairbrush, etc., in it. Eventually he found the bag and the rest of its contents, including a now-empty treat bag. We had taken Star to Big River and used the treats in a training session, and Megan had left them in her bag when we got back to the car.

We know it wasn’t Star, because she was in the house. Remembering the sunny day and the open car doors, Megan realized that Schatzi had taken the bag from the car and brought it into the garden to eat the treats. Whenever you give her a treat, she always takes it back there to enjoy it.

So there you have it. You can teach an old dog new tricks. She can sneak out of your brother’s house at the dead of night and go home, or jump out of an upstairs window without hurting herself, or help herself to your handbag in the back of a car.

It takes a Schatzi!

Ready for fun. Or trouble. Whatever comes first.

I really thought I’d get more blogging material out of the trip to Napa. I guess that’s what happens when you plan a trip around an event, rather than a place. No wonder I’ve never done it that way before.

I find it interesting that I blogged more often when I spent most of my time in Hooterville. You wouldn’t think that much happened around here.

Here’s a couple of things you missed:

I am slowly learning the wily ways of wildlife. One day, I was driving down the Ridge in a fog (inside and out), and suddenly, a young deer loomed in the mist. I stopped, and it ran into the woods. I waited, because there’s never just one, and sure enough, its buddy came prancing out, stared at me in the regulation manner, and then took off.

Megan one-upped me as usual by telling me about the time she was stopped in her car at Point Cabrillo Lighthouse* and a deer ran into her. Literally. The deer’s head plunged into the car’s open window, its huge black eye just inches away from Megan’s own. It’s hard to say who was more startled. The deer ran away in horror, leaving no sign of what happened other than fur stuck to the car door.

Recently, Megan and I were walking Star on the property when she flushed some quail. Both Star and Schatzi love to chase quail. I called out, “You’ll never catch one, Star!”, but she surprised us both by doing just that. I told Megan that I thought Star had a quail. She went into the bushes and flushed Star, who had a strange look on her face. One wing tip was sticking out of her mouth.

Megan told Star to drop it, and she did, opening her mouth. The quail beetled away like a wind-up toy, and Star cocked her head to one side, looking at Megan as if to say, “Not good?”

*When you come to visit, I’ll take you there. Great whale watching place, and the setting is amazing.

Well, Erica and Jessica are settled in their new (to them), century-old house, merrily ordering delivery dinners. Jessica has already made friends with the kids on her block. It makes me happy to know she’s going to grow up like Ramona the Pest, in a happy neighborhood with lots of kids and adventures to be had on her very own Klickitat Street.

Besides the farewell barbecue for the Dynamic Duo, it’s been hard for us to fit in seeing the new Harry Potter movie, even though we’ve been looking forward to it since Part I ended. Typically, we fit it in between errands on Friday. Rob tagged along, though in the way of many men when confronted with extended periods of shopping, he tended to bail on us when we were actually in the store.

We went to Safeway before the movie, loading up Miss Scarlett’s trunk while Star patiently waited in the backseat. She also had to wait in the car during the movie, but I think that dogs would rather wait in the parking lot than at home, since being in the car means a) being with the people; and 2) the possibility of fun. Also, Star hasn’t read the books.

Our timing was perfect, though: we arrived in the theater just as the last trailer ended, and the opening credits started just as we took our seats. I noticed that there were only two other people in the theater besides the three of us, and that was almost certainly a unique experience among viewers of this movie.

I enjoyed the movie very much, despite the darkness noted by critics. The one thing I really didn’t like was the epilogue, which I also disliked in the book. I think the three friends should have been left at the end of their victorious battle, on the brink of adulthood with all the rest of lives before them, rather than having their dull domesticity spelled out for us.

But that’s just me.

After the movie, we emerged blinking into the sunshine to take Star for a walk in a nearby field. Then we finished our errands, came home, and unloaded the car. Back to reality. It was nice to have that little break from the real world. That’s the magic of movies – and books.

Sleeping shop cat in the Castro

While we were away, Jonathan was on pet patrol. It turned out to be a lot more complicated than he thought.

Early one morning, he woke up freezing, only to discover that his door was wide open. Star was sleeping peacefully, but Schatzi had apparently pushed the door open and escaped.

It’s hard to find a deaf dog in the pre-dawn country darkness. He eventually found her shivering in her own backyard. She happily hopped into his car, and he added a long training leash to the backseat before taking her back to his place. Schatzi spent the rest of the day on the long, long leash if she was outside, or not, if she was inside.

That evening, she asked to go out and pee. As soon as she was out, she made a break for it. Jonathan clapped to get her to come back while scrambling into his shoes to chase her. By then, she had a good lead, and by the time he got in the car to go after her, she vanished.

He spent all night looking for her to no avail. Finally, he called Megan in hysterics early in the morning to tell her that Schatzi was lost. It takes a lot to make him cry, but we all know how Megan adores her dogs. It must have been one of the worst nights of his life.

Megan told Jonathan not to worry, and he kept looking for Schatzi. Eventually, he found her sleeping in her garden as if nothing had happened. He shut her in the house anyway, since we were coming back that day. Checking on her later, he found her in the garden again. He was sure that the doors were closed, but checked them again, just in case.

They were.

This time he just left her outside, since we were due home in a couple of hours.

Guess how she got out?

She went upstairs, climbed up on a chest and through the window which is open for Harriet and Ramona, Megan and Rob’s cats. Then, like the cats, she jumped to the ground from the porch roof outside the window. With her fragile old bones. There’s a good idea.

She did make it, though she needed extra pain meds that night. Nothing like an old dog who can learn new tricks, is there? Maybe we should re-name her Houdini!

To continue our family timepiece theme, here’s a clock my brother made with nixie tubes and framed. It’s at the foot of his bed. I asked him if it had an alarm, but he said no. He added that he didn’t need one, which seems to be a family trait. I think I’ve been woken up by my alarm clock once since I started the jobette, nearly five months ago.

I noticed the clock while Megan and I were over there on Saturday. Dave and Jennifer, the co-owners of the property, were visiting from their home in distant Grass Valley. Megan catered dinner, making chicken tikka masala, brown rice, grill bread, cucumber salad, and an apple pie. Due to work, my involvement was limited to putting the marinated chicken on skewers (and later, on the barbecue) and holding the pie while we drove over there. Oh, and eating.

It was delicious, and it was nice to sit by the fire and catch up with Dave and Jennifer as the sun began to drop toward the ocean. Hopefully they will be back soon for another visit.

Because nothing is too good for you, Faithful Reader, I have spared you the grumpy mood I’ve been in over the past few days. The unseasonably rainy weather did absolutely nothing to improve said mood.

Today it’s merely grey and depressing. For some reason, when you get a long weekend, it feels like you get an extra Sunday instead of an extra Saturday. I really should be getting ready for the week ahead instead of blogging about what a crabby little crab cake I am, but one of my few talents is the ability to complain about anything, any time, anywhere.

There was a break in the rain yesterday, replaced by cold winds which sent the windmill spinning and the clothes I hung outside to dry into various parts of the yard.

We decided to have Megan’s birthday barbecue anyway, huddled in our winter coats by the fire. We had sausages with fire roasted peppers, salad, and a cherry pie made from scratch by our brother. He even has an elegant stainless steel cherry pitter. Imagine.

Of all her presents, I think Megan’s favorite was a “city” or “traffic” leash, handmade by a local artisan. It’s about three feet long, and just the right length to get Star from the house to the car and back.

Speaking of cars: as soon as I pulled up at my brother’s yesterday, he came running over to see what on earth was wrong with my car. It did sound quite a lot like the Waltons’ truck, which was forever needing parts from Charlottesville. It turns out my car also needs a part from Charlottesville: a water pump. Apparently I was five or ten minutes away from the defective water pump destroying my engine. So I left the car there and hitched a ride home with Megan and Rob.

Of course, today is a holiday, so I won’t be able to get the part until sometime tomorrow. Jonathan works from Monday through Wednesday afternoon with no break, so hopefully Rob can install it or they can work on it together on Wednesday afternoon.

In the meantime, Megan goes to work tonight as usual (there are no holidays in the ER). She’ll drop the car off here at 7 am, I’ll drive it back where it just came from about an hour later, and return it to Megan in time for her to do the same in the evening. Poor little car. It’s a good thing we learned how to share all those years ago.

Meet Jasper! I met Jasper and his steadfast guardian Rebecca last weekend. Megan and Monica have added community outreach to their regular rescue activities. Rebecca needed some help getting Jasper neutered. He has a heart murmur, so anesthetizing him for the surgery is complicated and expensive, and Rebecca can’t afford it on her own. In fact, Rebecca was unable to find a landlord in this county who would rent to her, because Jasper is a pit bull, so she actually lived in her car with him. She even approached a homeless shelter, but they wouldn’t let Jasper in the shelter and they wouldn’t allow her to park the car out front with him in it. This kind of discrimination continues to shock me, no matter how often I hear it.

I am so impressed with her love and dedication to her dog. I bet most people would have taken Jasper to the homeless pet shelter without a second thought. But not Rebecca.

She turned to Daisy Davis for help, and Megan and Monica located a vet willing to work with them on cost. It turns out that Jasper also has an allergic rash on his belly, so they also bought antibiotics for him. He can’t have the surgery until the rash clears up. But all’s well that ends well: Rebecca found a place that would accept both her and Jasper in a neighboring county, and Jasper should be able to have his surgery in the next couple of weeks.

Monica runs her own business – she has done so successfully for many years – is married, and has several dogs, in addition to founding and running Daisy Davis Pit Bull Rescue. Megan, as you know, works her long night shifts, celebrates her 20th wedding anniversary this summer, has her two dogs and two cats to take care of, and she and Rob both work on the property whenever they can. Yet these two women find the time not only to rescue and love dogs in need, but to reach out to our little community and help where they can. I am so proud of these two, and am so lucky to know them.

They are an inspiration.

Birthday kiss

Happy Cinco de Mayo, y’all! We should be sitting in my garden drinking margaritas in the gorgeous sunshine, admiring my tulips. If only life were really like that.

I’ve blogged about Cinco de Mayo before, but this year we have something extra to celebrate. It’s Star’s birthday! She’s three today.

As you may remember, Megan and I drove all the way to Colusa and back last April to rescue Star. Her owner had jumped off a cliff in front of her horrified child and Star, who went after her to try and save her. Star survived; the owner didn’t. Star had a pretty rough time until we went and got her, and only recently we discovered that what she went through was much, much worse than previously thought.

But all’s well that ends well. Star is still technically Megan’s foster dog, but after a year together, I think it’s safe to say that Star is part of the family. And speaking of safe: this birthday marks the first year of Star’s life where no human has laid a hand on her except in affection. And that’s something to celebrate.

Star meets Padawan, June 2010

Yesterday morning, I saw Schatzi go tearing past my house. Alarmed, yet impressed with her speed given her state of decrepitude, I hurried outside to make sure she was OK. Calling her is pointless at this point, yet I persist in doing it. I clapped my hands a few times and Star came bounding up, but no Schatz.

I accompanied Star back to her rightful residence, despite the fact that I was wearing PJs and slippers and the driveway was full of puddles. Somehow, the speeding Schatzi had beaten me there.

Megan was still up. And something was up. I guess a speeding dog can be an omen, just like a shooting star or a meteor.

When L cut our hair a couple of weeks ago, Megan thought his dog, Padawan, looked pretty bad. She was having trouble walking, and was panting, though it wasn’t hot. She persuaded L to take Padawan to the vet. It was nice Dr. Carl, and he had to tell L that Padawan had cancer in her leg. She is an 11 year old Rottweiler, and even if her leg was amputated, the cancer had spread, and was a particularly nasty and fast-moving one.

It moved faster than we expected. L asked Megan to call Dr. Karen and make arrangements. She waited until it was late enough to call – keep in mind that she had just come home from her 12 hour night shift – and got an appointment for 4:30. She relayed this to L, who said it would have to be sooner. So we settled on 11:00.

Megan took L and Padawan to the vet. Poor Pad yelped on the way there – it was definitely time. Dr. Karen came out to the car, parked beside the garden at the back of her office, and released Padawan from all that pain and suffering. She was very kind and gentle.

When it was over, Megan called Jonathan and me, and we met them at L’s house. The EMS workers efficiently and lovingly transferred Pad’s body to a wheelbarrow for her last journey. Jonathan took charge and I carried the tools. We made our way down the steep path to the spot L had chosen, overlooking his house, bowered in ancient trees.

It was hard work, but as I thought when we laid little Henry to rest this same time last year, it is somehow therapeutic to do this last thing with your own hands for a loved one. Padawan rested in the spring sunshine as we worked. We all bade her a final farewell as the birds sang and the water rushed by far below.

L asked to be left alone, and we all hugged him goodbye. It was hard to leave him there, but I know he is not really alone, and neither is Padawan. They will always be together.

At the jobette last Monday, we had a brainstorming session at the Aquatic Center. So basically, we were working poolside (kids kept peering at us through the windows as if we were on display. Look at the grownups in their natural habitat!). The tables were covered with paper, and we had crayons and glitter to use on it. The idea was to get our creativity flowing. To that end, we also had Legos. And there were cookies. This may have given the kids an inaccurate idea of what being a grownup is really like.

On Tuesday, I spent the afternoon with our county’s official canine ambassador. His Dads’ car had broken down and turned out to be jump start proof, so they were waiting for the (one) tow truck to come. My diplomatic friend was faultlessly behaved, and even posed beautifully:

I was sorry when one of his Dads picked him up, and made a mental note to keep some dog biscuits at work. After all, our ambassador also joins our weekly staff meetings.

It’s only fair to give cats equal time. This handsome boy lives next door, and poses as nicely as Hairy (but don’t tell him):

I noticed this pergola on Main Street, while on my way to Paws to pick up food for the kitties. Now that the boys are almost ten months old, I’ve been feeding all three of them the same food. I alternate between Wellness Core and Wellness Complete Health. More and more, I think it’s really important to feed our companion animals the best food we can afford.

Incredibly, it was raining by the time I got back to work. Hard to believe from looking at the picture, isn’t it?

I took this one at the Hooterville post office on Monday morning. I thought its beauty was a great way to start the week:

And I hope it’s a great start to your week, too.

You all know that I loathe the twice yearly madness of the time change, so I won’t tell you again. But I will just say that my body and I are going to know perfectly well that it’s really 5:30 am when the alarm goes off tomorrow. I may finally need the alarm to go off to haul Self out of bed in the newly-restored morning darkness (thanks, government!). In the month since starting the jobette my record of waking up before the alarm has been unblemished (thanks, kitties!).

Now that I have to get up and go to work on Monday, Sunday has acquired the familiar feeling of dread going back to school days, when prison doors yawned and homework was belated and possibly incomplete as Sunday arrived. Just like I did then, I put out my clothes for the following day and try not to think about it.

Monday Eve seemed to arrive particularly fast since I did a special guest appearance at the jobette on Thursday. The database needed wrestling into submission, and time was running out. I have to check 35,000 entries for duplicates and delete the offenders by this Wednesday.

Fortunately, Rob has ceramics class on Thursdays, so we were able to carpool again. But greenosity has its price.

Absorbed in his work, he lost track of the time, and arrived half an hour late to pick me up. He left his cell phone at home, which he had noticed about halfway to town, so I knew there was no point in trying to call him. After he arrived, Star in tow, he realized that he had forgotten something at school, so we went back to where he had just come from.

After that, we took Star to Lu’s house so she could stay there while Rob and Megan went to the city on Friday (the trip that was cancelled by the tsunami warnings, but we didn’t know that at the time). Lu was home sick, but we stayed and chatted for a while.

When we were on our way again, Rob saw that the “add water” light was on the car. The water leakage is an ongoing problem which has rendered their car unable to drive to the city. Rob and Jonathan have been trying to diagnose the source of the leak to no avail. We stopped at a townette which might have water at one place.

The one place was closed. Rob considered puddle water from a couple of different puddles despite my veto, got distracted by a fallen sign which might perhaps be converted to a windmill blade if they make another one, discovered it was still attached to a pole, and rejected it as impracticable.

Partway through the townette, Rob paused the car to show me why you shouldn’t leave your siding and roof unfinished for extended periods of time, pointing out the problems it had caused a certain house. It was interesting, but I really wanted to get home at this point in the game. I thought longingly of my kitty PJs.

Once my daily ration of education was complete, we got back on the road briefly, stopping at the next townette to get water. I was pretty confident that water was available at this location, and so it was. Rob debated getting coffee (unlike the car, he appears to run on coffee and cigarettes almost exclusively) and decided against it.

I was pretty happy to see the welcoming sight of Hooterville, though not happy enough to want to stop there. Rob, however, wanted to check the mail, get half and half, and oh, why not? A coffee to go. While he did all this, I checked the local paper and learned that our seasonal rainfall has reached 38.8 inches*.

When Rob returned to the car, he had a parts catalogue for him, and junk mail for me. Coffee in hand, he started to peruse the catalogue. After a few minutes, I finally said, “You know, Megan’s probably awake and waiting for that half and half.”

By now, it was about two hours since Rob picked me up. I’m now beginning to understand how it can take him all afternoon to go to the dump, or an hour to go to the Hooterville store, a mere five miles away. It takes talent. And it takes a Rob.

*My rain gauge did not survive the unexpected snowfall a couple of weeks ago. The water inside it expanded as it froze and broke into several pieces. Those pesky laws of physics!

Yesterday, Rob and I car pooled to town together. It was so fun!

Unlike most Americans, I hate to drive, so I was happy to hand over the wheel. I’ve always wanted a chauffeur*. And Rob makes interesting company. We also brought Star along for the ride. Sometimes she stayed in the back seat, and sometimes she didn’t.

We stopped off briefly so Rob could express plant some daffodils he found in the wilds of my garden at the front of my brother’s property. Rob has landscaped it nicely there, with the pointy bush from their garden, crocuses, and now the daffodils. I’m pleased to say that my tulips are coming along nicely.

Rob had a ceramics class in the morning and an appointment in the afternoon at 4:00. So just in case he couldn’t get home in time to return the car to Megan at 5:00, when she leaves for work, we decided to share my car. Those of you who are wondering why he didn’t take his trusty truck don’t live where gas is $3.79 a gallon and have a truck which gets about 5 miles to the gallon.

We arranged to meet up at Monica’s store (conveniently located a block away) at 4:30. I ended up leaving work at about 4:15, having successfully labeled, stamped, stuffed, and sealed 500 envelopes. There was no way I was leaving work until I had wrestled them into submission. You haven’t lived until you’ve processed 500 envelopes. Or maybe you’ve died and gone to hell.

As I approached the corner, Rob pulled up beside me. Perfect timing and curbside service. What’s not to love?

*All those Hollywood starlets who keep getting arrested for DUI? I can never understand why they don’t have chauffeurs. Talk about a sensible luxury!

Yesterday, Megan and I took Schatzi to the vet. They wanted to take some blood to make sure that her medication isn’t affecting her liver too much. The test results were complete in about ten minutes, and Schatzi’s liver is fine, though her kidneys were showing on the high end of normal.

Dr. Karen said that if we brought her a urine sample, she could run another test to make sure it wasn’t something bad (all the medi-chat and charts went way over my head). She then handed Megan a ladle.

I had thought that “ladle” was medi-chat for something, but it was, in fact, the type you’d use to distribute soup to the deserving poor or your undeserving family. You can imagine the lovely picture we made walking around the village, me with Schatzi on a leash and Megan with the ladle poised under Schatzi’s underpinnings.

Needless to say, this was the one time in Schatzi’s entire life when she didn’t stop every two minutes to pee. She was prancing around in the sunlight as if she were a puppy. You’d never know that her hips and spine look like cheap Swiss cheese inside.

Finally, Megan was successful and the test revealed nothing untoward. Yay! Apparently cats and dogs tend to get tired kidneys as they age, and since Schatzi is 11 now, it’s not too surprising, just something we need to keep an eye on.

After all that, we felt Schatzi deserved a real, ladle-free walk, so we headed to the headlands.

I love how the wind-swept trees frame the ocean here:

And the path:

The headlands jut out into the rocky ocean:

It was a beautiful day, and Schatzi trotted along happily on the narrow path, enjoying the sun on her fur as we enjoyed being with her in this lovely place.

Big River Beach

The beautiful weather has made walking the dogs even more of a pleasure. So far I’ve done pretty well at my “walk the dogs more often” resolution (though not as well at the “worry less about the cats” part. You can’t have everything). A couple of days ago, we met up with Lu and her dogs, Harlow and Marco, at Big River.

Patterns in the sand

Megan has been working with Star to teach her to heel and not pull so much on the leash. She’s planning to enroll Star in a Canine Good Citizen class this spring, all in the hopes of finally finding an adoptive family for her. Megan says that if we can’t find a home for Star this summer, she’ll stop looking. It’s going to take a special family to adopt Star. She’s so sensitive and nervous, needs constant care in her diet (her nails break off unless she gets enough Omega-3s and protein), and lots of exercise and attention. In the meantime, though, Megan is working hard to make Star the best and happiest dog she can be.

We stopped at our brother’s place on the way home to check in on the boys and their latest projects. They have a new – really new, not just new to us – welder, and are working on making a windmill to join the solar panels.

Imagine our surprise when we were met by none other than Miss Jessica!

Erica had to take her car in to be repaired, so Jonathan had picked Jessica up from school. She was wearing a pink pom pom scarf her mother had made her, which I immediately tried on. It was a little small on me, and Jessica, fearing that I’d want to keep it anyway, said, “And PS, it doesn’t look too good on you,” which made me laugh so hard I almost cried.

I gave Jessica her scarf back and went to visit Henry. I found some flowers to put on her grave and talked to her as I always do, while Jessica brushed away leaves and then, sweetly, patted the ground as if petting Henry. “I think she’s happy here,” she said. Then she gathered flowers for the other occupants of the ground under the tree. She really is a sweet girl.

We brought Jessica back to my house to wait for her mother, and she set about making a fairy house in my garden. Here you see her picking rhododendron leaves for fairy beds:

When I took the picture, I said, “You look so serious, ” to which she replied, “I’m trying to look glamorous.” After a pause she added, “I can be both, you know.” And she can.

Home away from home

Somehow, I managed to go to the vet’s office two days in a row.

Yesterday, I went with Megan to consult with an orthopedic surgeon about Schatzi, and this morning, I took Clyde and Roscoe in for their final kitten shots. Does this mean they’re all grown up?

Dr. Carl, the orthopedic surgeon, was a really nice guy. He examined Schatzi and her x-rays, and said that she has extremely bad arthritis in her hips as well as a problem with her spine. The spine problem, as my non-medical mind understood it, is that the discs between her vertebrae have worn away, and her body has built a bony bridge along them to keep them together. Apparently the problem will be if/when the bridge breaks, which can happen from something as simple as jumping out of the car. Or not.

To top it all off, she has cataracts.

So basically Schatzi is like Dorian Gray – all youthful on the outside, but messed up on the inside. Both Dr. Carl and Dr. Karen were surprised by how bad the arthritis and spine were, considering her activity level and lack of complaining. When Dr. Carl was testing her range of motion, Megan and I were both flinching, but Schatzi was stoic as ever. Dr. Carl was pretty impressed, and it was clear he was taken with her.

It’s going to be painkillers and carefulness from now on, though Megan is looking into alternative treatments, and I’ll keep you up to date on that.

The boys hopped into their carrying case on their own, which made things easier:

They threw up instead of pooping on the way there, which was a nice change. Clyde is now 8 pounds and Roscoe 9 pounds, which explains why the carrier felt so heavy. They were so good while they had their shots! Now that we’re home, Clyde is sleeping it off and Roscoe is out doing something in the sunshine.

I can’t help thinking how important the first year of life is. Schatzi’s was so terrible, and I believe that the ill treatment she suffered as a puppy, along with the lack of proper nutrients and having a litter way too young, has come back to haunt her in her old age. Whereas the boys are shiny and happy, have the best food possible, and have never known a day’s unhappiness. I’m glad that Schatzi is so loved and cared for now, but it seems so unfair that she’s still suffering, or suffering again, from what happened to her when she was young.