Doggone it

We had a bad thunderstorm last weekend, so my dog spent the night in the garage. We also opened the side gate because it sits too low to the ground for water to move quickly under it, which makes the water back up and seep under the side door of the garage.

I let Pepper out of the garage the next morning. A little while later I went out back to fill her food and water bowls, but when she didn't come running like she always does, I said "Oh, shit." I walked around the corner of the house and, sure enough, the gate was standing wide open.

My dog was gone.

I paused a moment to reflect on how I felt about this. And, honestly? I hate to admit it, but it didn't bother me much. Not much at all.

And then I threw some jeans on, grabbed the leash and a picture of Pepper, parked Britt on my hip and headed out to look for her. The neighbors across the street were having a garage sale, so I started there. Yes, they had seen her; she was in my next-door neighbor's backyard, so I went and fetched her and took her home.

So I still have a dog. Dammit.

Seriously, y'all, I have tried. I've tried and tried and I'm still trying, but I just don't feel the love with this dog. I pet her and scratch her and talk to her every time I go outside, and I brush her just about every day, but I'm just not bonding with her. This is not the dog I wanted.

I first started wanting a dog when Kitty was still alive and before Britt was born. My kids had left home and my arms were empty and Kitty wasn't much of a cuddler. So I spent hours and hours looking at pictures of dogs at local shelters, but they were always too big. I wanted a little dog, an armful of love, like the miniature dachshund I grew up with.

Mikey nixed the dachshund idea. Also chihuahuas, anything with bulging eyes or a pug face and any dog from a shelter. He told me to decide on my top three picks and he'd see what he could do. So I did. I studied on it and finally told him that I wanted a silky terrier, a Westie, or a cairn terrier.

We tried for a silky, but they're pretty rare around here and every time we tried to get one they were already sold out. That Christmas, we were over at his parents' house for the family gift exchange when his brother came through the door with a tiny Bichon puppy. I said, "Oh, is that for me?" and everybody laughed. No, it was for my brother-in-law's kids. Later, I cried. Mikey said, "Oh, did you want a puppy?"

He finally told me that if I really wanted a dog, then I should just go get me one, but I could tell he wasn't on board with it and adopting a pet is such a huge commitment that I couldn't bring myself to do it without his support.

And then Britt came and my arms were no longer empty, so the whole issue went on the back burner until this winter, when Britt became mobile and we thought it would be nice for her to have another living being to interact with. Plus, I still really wanted a dog. A little dog.

So I started looking at the shelters again but, still, the dogs there were always bigger than what I wanted, plus they didn't want to adopt dogs out to families with very small children. So I looked at breed rescue sites. Same thing. No families with toddlers allowed.

So I studied the breeds available in the classifieds and circled likely candidates. And showed them to Mikey. And nothing happened, except that he started talking to his customers about dogs and then coming home with reasons why I couldn't have this one or that one. Finally, he told me that I couldn't have any kind of terrier at all because somebody told him they were "nippy" and if a dog ever bit Britt he'd probably hurt it.

By this point, I wanted to scream and claw my face. Instead, I found a website that rated breeds according to their compatability with children, cross-referenced it against what was available in the classifieds, and that's how we got our keeshond. I told myself this was a compromise dog but now I realize that this was a desperation dog. It was a dog and I could have it.

But it isn't the dog I wanted.

She is a beautiful dog and it's true that she has never snapped or growled at Britt, but sometimes she gets too excited and knocks her down or scratches her. She has completely destroyed my beautiful garden and she chews on every damn thing she can get her teeth on, including me. I can't hardly pet her without her latching onto my hand or my arm, and she has nipped the tender inner part of my thigh while trying to chew on my pants and also my boob when she tried to chew on my shirt. And she bit a button off a brand-new pair of capri pants, and ate it.

I read and printed lots of stuff about how to train her but, you know what? Training a dog takes lots of time and diligence, and all my time and diligence is devoted to Britt right now. She is a smart dog and I think she would be a great pet for someone who knew how to handle her, but that someone is not me.

Mikey, of course, has had almost nothing to do with her; he never goes in the backyard. He did today, though, and when he came in he told me that the condition of our yard and patio made him feel very depressed. He's ready to put her up for sale.

I think I am, too.

Busted II

I e-mailed Britt's guardian ad-litem the other day, asking if she could find out what was going on and get back with me.

She said it was indeed "our" Sarah who got busted, and that old guy she was living with in Blanchard last year was the one who bailed her out of jail. That's all she told me, though, which was annoying. I want details, dammit!

UPDATE 4:40pm: I just checked the messages on my phone, like I do once a month or so, and found out that Sarah called on June 13 wanting to see Britt.

The guardian ad-litem said it's up to me whether or not we let Sarah visit Britt, which I'm hesitant to do under the circumstances. Since she's a drug trafficker and all, you know.

On the other hand, I could get her over here and pump her for info.

Hmmm...

When Britt's pigtails fall out

she looks like a papillon:

Busted

Bridgie called to tell me she'd found something interesting on the OSCN website: Sarah was arrested last month for trafficking in illegal drugs. I pulled it up myself and looked at it; the birthdate is correct, so I'm sure it's her. Click on the link and you'll know as much about it as I do.

I called Bob; he thought it was pretty funny.

Mikey's been worried that Sarah would finally manage to clean herself up and try to regain custody of Brittany. I didn't have that much faith in her, but it's still a relief to know that she won't be taking Britt away any time soon.

I wonder if I could go downtown and get a copy of the arrest report? I am the legal guardian of her child, so I think I have a right to know what's going on. I'd hate to make the trip for nothing, though. Do you think they'd give me a copy?

A quick update

Britt's been having sleeping issues this past week or so. I finally got her to sleep at midnight-something tonight, which seriously cuts into my free time. Since I don't have a lot of free time on a good day, I haven't been blogging much lately.

I guess y'all heard that Roy's in the hospital with kidney failure. Cathy's been stuck up there without a car, so I went and took her out to lunch today. She's doing fine and Roy seems to be doing better.

I do have some exciting news to report -- Britt's hair is finally long enough to put in pigtails. Behold the cuteness:

Sleeping Beauty II

This time I caught her before she rolled off the bed:

School's out

and so one of my favorite new-to-me blogs is slowing down for the summer, dang it. And I was just about to add it to my blogroll, too.

It's the oddly fascinating Vegan Lunch Box, wherein a mom posts a daily photo, description and rating of the lunches she packs for her son each school day:



I'm not a vegan, but I would totally eat this stuff. Well, I would -- as long as somebody else did the shopping and the cooking for me.

Damn

I thought my meno was pausing.

I guess not.

Damn.

Greg's Wedding

Made the trip home to Tahlequah this weekend to see my youngest nephew get hitched. Here he is, enjoying his last few moments of freedom:



Amber was a lovely bride:



The kiss:



And it's a done deal:



We went over to Debbie's afterward, where Britt got to swim in the pool. She even got to ride in a kayak with Kelly Beth and Emily, with Eddie catapulting it from one end of the pool and Bob catching at the other:



And she went hot-tubbing with her Daddy; by this point her super-absorbent diaper was bigger than Bob's head:



Don't ask me what's up with Bob's facial hair. Could be he's Amish now, I dunno.

Missy is a lesbian

I forgot to tell Bridgie today when she finally came to get her dog that Missy has been humping my dog. Also, my leg.

Oh, yeah, Bridge -- remember when you came over for dinner Thursday and I couldn't find my little stainless steel saucepan? And I looked in all the cabinets, and I looked in the dishwasher two or three times and I even looked in the refrigerator and the freezer? And then I sat on the floor and looked through the pots & pans cabinet again? And it was nowhere to be found?

I hunted for it a few more times over the weekend, thinking it might magically reappear somewhere.

It did.

I finally unloaded the dishwasher on Tuesday and there it was.