Glorious Day!

This is absolutely the most beautiful day I can ever remember in Houston. The sky is a brilliant blue - seriously, it's electric, almost hard to look at it's soooo intensely blue. Not a cloud. A nice, cool, gentle breeze. Birds singing away. Mike's flowers reaching to the sun. Just wow.

So I walked over to the grocery store because I'm planning on making enchiladas for dinner, and it turns out my corn tortillas are all moldy. Ew. I remembered to take my cloth bags (which I love because they hold so much, and I don't have to figure out what to do with all the plastic ones). I almost never remember to take them. My little shopping list ended up growing enough that I couldn't go through the express lane. But I did keep it under $30. The only thing on my original list that I didn't get was toilet paper - I bet I'll regret that later. I managed to convince the bagger that I really did want all of it in the two cloth bags. Really. Especially since he turned down helping me with my bags, once I mentioned I had to walk several blocks. What good is helping me out with my bags if it stops in the parking lot? I stopped and checked the mail when I got home and found the grocery store ads. Good thing I didn't see those before I went.

I'm so glad I went out. Saturday is my housecleaning day because Mike is at work. For whatever reason, I get all self-conscious about cleaning while he's home. I do laundry and dishes and "spot cleaning" when he's around, but usually not the big stuff. Plus, the last time I really cleaned the living room when he was home, he had an asthma attack (dust, cat hair, etc.), so it's really better that I do it when he's gone. Give the dust time to settle before he comes home. I did get the upstairs done this morning. I had plans to continue on down, but those are fading. Did I mention how nice it is outside?!?

What am I doing here playing on the computer? I gotta go!

What Happened?

Where did August go?

Well, regardless, it is gone! So, happy September! I always have thought of September as the beginning of autumn. But around here? Not so much. Maybe October.

The good news is it's the start of football! Today, the first season game - Titans at Pittsburgh. And finally, after a half hour waste of television time with some weird musical tribute to the NFL, we have reached game time. I am a resolute non-Steeler fan. And I'm fond of the Titans, inasmuch as they once were the Oilers. So, bring it on!

I don't actually have any fantasy players in tonight's game. I benched Chris Johnson in favor of Ray Rice for the weekend, so I just get to watch "for fun". My first opponent is my brother, and he has a couple players in tonight, but I'm not really worried. :)

Other good news about September is it's time for a new fall Bible study with Beth Moore. This study is on Revelation, and it's going to be a wild ride. I'm excited. We've also started some new things at our church that I'll probably go into more at another time.

Oh, did you know that "apocalypsis" is Greek for "unveiling, uncovering, disclosing" - in other words - "revelation"? It really has no negative connotation at all. It does not mean anything like "devastating end-of-the-world disaster". Hmm.

A Dog's Life - Part Five

Mike got a job offer across the country - Western New York. The Roberts had grown especially fond of Dingo; the cat had become accustomed to him (she was even emulating his behavior now - rolling her eyes, coming when called, snorting while she eats). But taking Dingo out of his desert environment (especially five days in a truck) seemed like a cruel thing to do.

Enter the Eisenbergs. Gena and Mike had known Richard Eisenberg for as long as they had known each other. Richard was Mike's best man, and he and wife Patricia were frequent participants in Roberts schemes. They also had a five year old son - John Z. Every boy needs a dog - right?

Mike talked Richard into a "trial period" with Dingo. When the Roberts visited, Dingo refused to go out front for fear they would take him away. The Eisenbergs spoiled that dog to no end - long walks in the hills, gourmet food (delivery!!), baths and brushings, and of course, Dingo had his very own boy. It was a match made in heaven. (Well, the Eisenberg cat wasn't too thrilled, but he didn't have a vote, so learned to keep his distance.) Dingo became John Z's protector and friend. They had many adventures, but John will have to one day tell their story.

Even after the Roberts had gone and come back again, Dingo was an Eisenberg. He started to have trouble with his joints (especially his right hip) and the walks got shorter and shorter. He had some little "tumors" removed from his skin now and then. But he never lost his appetite! Eventually, Richard had to help him get up and down. And finally, Dingo didn't get up again. He lived with the Eisenbergs for 7 years.

I think he was 19 or 20 years old when he finally went to the hunting ground in the sky last month - happily chasing rabbits once again. Dingo was the best. He is missed.

A Dog's Life - Part 4

Dingo milked it for all he was worth - hopping around on three legs with those big sad eyes. Every door had at least a couple of steps down to the yard, so every trip outside was an adventure. The curious cat tried to get close for some detailed inspection, but Dingo brought out a back-of-the-throat growl that had not been heard before. It gave him at least an 18 inch perimeter (when he was awake).

Weeks later, Mike dropped Dingo off at the vet hoping for an all-systems-go; otherwise, it would be surgery. When Mike came back to pick Dingo up and hear the prognosis, he was invited back to the exam room. There he was confronted by a committee of doctors, aides, and nurses demanding an explanation.

"What can you tell us about the bullet in Dingo's shoulder?"

Mike was speechless (a rare occurrence). "Bullet?" he eventually managed.

Someone had noticed Dingo limping on one of his front legs, so they decided to do an x-ray. Floating inside the shoulder joint was a bullet. Mike's apparent surprise (plus the fact that no entry wound or scar was found) kept them from calling PETA. Mike was of course not familiar with Dingo's history, so had no explanation. They showed him where the bullet was located and how to massage it out of the shoulder joint. No need for surgery (for the hip or the bullet).

Later, Mike asked Papa Junior about the bullet, who asked Papa about the bullet, who said, "Well, there was this one time he took off for several days - maybe a week - and I thought he was gone for good. But he dragged himself in looking like he'd had a run in with some kind of ornery critters. Guess they were the human kind. He bounced back, though." Obviously.

Dingo healed up fine, and continued to work his seasonal job at the theater in Virginia City. He even got a write-up in the program. But after three years (and several moves with the Roberts), the theater closed down. Dingo's future was uncertain.

A Dog's Life - Part Three

Dingo stoically endured the half hour rides up and down Geiger Grade between the theater and the Roberts house in Reno. He would sit between the front seats of the van - front legs straight, knees locked, lightly panting and staring down at the floor. One time upon arrival, he jumped out of the side door and collapsed with a pathetic whine - his legs had fallen asleep.

The Roberts decided to make it legal, and they purchased a manly collar with an ID tag that said Dingo on the front and their phone number on the back. The very next night they were awakened by a phone call - "Do you have a dog named Dingo?"

The back gate had blown open and Dingo was wandering, as was his nature. He was hit by a car about three blocks from the house. Mike and Gena got him into the van and drove to an Emergency Animal Clinic. He had a dislocated hip. The doctors were able to pop it back in without surgery, but they had to put him in a sling which they expected he would need for several weeks - no running or jumping, and definitely no wandering.

Much to the cat's dismay, Dingo became an indoor dog.

A Dog's Life - Part Two

Meanwhile, some friends of the Alvarezes (we'll call them Mike and Gena Roberts) had started an outdoor theater up in Virginia City (Papa's ol' stompin' grounds). Papa, Jr. was invited to participate in the first production of the season, and once rehearsals started in the dusty rustic amphitheater, a plan hatched in Junior's brain.

"Hmmm, " thought Junior, "I could leave Dingo here. And if he runs off, he would find himself in the hills he knows and loves. He would forget Papa."

And so, Dingo came to rehearsal.

The cast thought Dingo was adorable. He wandered around the set (which was a big house that opened up for "indoor" scenes), hid out in the "house" (the audience seating which was a huge slope dotted with straw bales), and took off into the hills beyond for hours at a time. Mike was concerned about Junior's plan to leave Dingo there overnight. He didn't want the responsibility of having an "unleashed" pet. But then again, if Dingo stayed at the amphitheater he might keep any would-be squatters from taking up residence in the set.

And so Mike took Junior's plan, and made a few changes. "This dog is a stray," he explained. "He wandered onto the property and we just sort of adopted him. But he isn't ours. He comes and goes as he pleases." Once spoken, the story was set. In fact, you'll never hear it differently (except for this unauthorized version you're reading right now).

By the time the second production got under way, Dingo was a fixture. He always wore a bright red or blue bandanna (so he could be seen out in the hills, but he thought it was his costume). He would greet the audience before the show, begging for handouts from their picnic baskets and concessions. Eventually, the concession stand started selling official "Dingo snacks" for people to give him. Dingo would always accept these gifts, and if he was not hungry, would take and hide them up behind "his" straw bale, saving them for later.

During one of the melodramas, when the heroine was despairing, Dingo ran in and laid his head in her lap. Scene stealer! And later when the hero was tied to the railroad tracks, Dingo ran in to start untying him! Classic!

It was soon discovered that Dingo did not like guns. He would always run out the amphitheater before the shooting started. He also became a bit of a diva, and would not go onstage at all the night his bandanna got left up in the dressing room.

He squirmed his way right into everyone's heart. And after the third trip to the sheriff's department to bail Dingo out of doggie jail (he was picked up for causing a disturbance - a neighbor claimed he barked all night, although no one had ever heard him bark, and the deputy couldn't get him to bark even with the other jailbirds barking up a frenzy), the Roberts started taking him home with them after the shows.

Dingo, the wonder dog had a new home.

A Dog's Life - Part One

Once upon a time, oh about 15-20 years ago, on an old Nevada ranch outside of Reno, a purebred German Shepherd went into heat. She was locked in a high fenced kennel while arrangements were completed for an appropriate "suitor". However, in the morning it was discovered that she was not alone - 3 coyotes had made it into her pen to keep her company. The coyotes were run off, but the damage was done. Fraulein Shepherd was with child(ren). Is it even possible, you ask? Well, I dunno, but it's my story, isn't it?

Obviously, Fraulein had been sullied, and her progeny (is that a word?) was worthless. I don't know how many were in the litter, but one puppy was taken in by the Alvarez clan. They named him Dingo (I have no idea why - he didn't look like a dingo, he looked like a coyote). He would be a gift for Papa.

Dingo was greatly loved by Papa Alvarez, and Papa Alvarez was adored by little Dingo. Together they lived and wandered the Nevada desert (Papa was something of a hermit, though he did check in with the rest of the family now and then). Dingo was never collared or leashed, and loved to chase rabbits and other critters up and down the Nevada hills. Many times he had to fend for himself foodwise, as Papa sometimes couldn't feed himself, much less a dog. But Dingo loved to "hunt". He was fond of roadkill and horse poop was an extra special treat.

There was an incident once when Papa and Dingo were riding in Papa's pickup truck. A bit of an accident (the truck flipped over) caused a toolbox that was also riding in the truck to land on the little pup. Dingo was ever after skittish about riding in vehicles.

Years passed and finally Papa's family made him come home. They wanted to keep an eye on him; make sure he ate, bathed and wore clean clothes (at least once in a while). And so began a new phase of Dingo's life - confinement. This was a difficult time for Dingo. Although the Alvarezes had a large back yard, he was required to stay inside the fence. Oh how he longed to run with the pack - he could hear the coyotes calling as they roamed the nearby desert. Sometimes he could talk the family dog into breaking out with him, but mostly he had to go solo. He never meant any harm - he would always come back.

But the Alvarez clan, though they did have a fondness for Dingo, came to realize that they just could not train him to stay. He was after all part coyote and needed to roam free (plus he was a bad influence on their border collie and the neighbors complained about his howling). And so the family took a trip to the other side of Pyramid Lake and left Dingo there. Don't judge - it wasn't abandonment - they were trying to help him find his way back to the wild.

The bond between Dingo and Papa was strong. And two days later Dingo was home, thrilled and tired from his adventure. The Alvarezes did not know what to do.