Inseparable

 

Ticks! Huge, Bloated, Milk Sucking Ticks!!

As of this morning, the ticks puppies are two weeks old. Their eyes are open now, and I'm pretty sure they've doubled in size already. Hard to tell without taking a measuring stick to their wiggly butts. They eat like there is no tomorrow. They go to the vet for the first time in about 3 weeks. Depending on how long Momma Lucy Laverne puts up with them, they should be adoptable in another 5 or  6 weeks. My Sister...the Devil is inclined to adopt Lucy Laverne pending introductions between LL and their current dog, a 14 year old lab named Chewy. He's a bit of a curmudgeon, but I think he'll take a shower, shave and hair cut when he sees Lucy Laverne in all her glory. So far, 3 or 4 people have expressed interest in adopting pups. If you are so inclined and you are reasonably close to the North Texas area, drop a comment. We'll make arrangements. 

Bashfule in dream land.

Bashful in his favorite position. 

Sleepy passed out on Snow White. 

The Holstein Twins, Grumpy and Dopey, Doc, Bashful and Sleepy.

Look at those teeny little pink paws!!

One of the Holstein Twins snoring through a tongue snorkel.

M&M with Bashful??

Such a cute face.

Sneezy and Doc snoozing.

Mini Hungry Hippos

Puppy Glamour Shots

I know this blog has suddenly become the "All Puppies All The Time Channel", but I can't help it (and it's kinda necessary unless Casa de Mimi becomes overrun with the little buggers and...by extension Casa de Daddy Hawk). There is a Friday Funnies post in the hopper for tomorrow to get your random humor fix  in. So, after concluding that immediate relocation of momma dog (now known as "Lucy Laverne" because...reasons...that are actually pretty funny) and pups to a local rescue organization was not a viable option (long story...TLDR...YMMV), we decided it was in the best interests of Lucy and "Friends" to be fostered at Mimi for the next 6 to 8 weeks while the pups grow from wiggly worm mini hungry hippos to...whatever they will be in 6 to 8 weeks.

Lucy Laverne has been exhibiting excellent momma dog instincts and is taking great care of  her babies. I'll try to post a video of the pups later. They are a hungry bunch and make the cutest little grunts and noises.

So, without further adieu, please allow me to introduce you to the pups. Niece "I Do It" gets credit for the idea to name the pups after Snow White and The Seven Dwarfs (Dwoofs).

Dopey - Male

Dopey

Grumpy - Male

Grumpy

Grumpy

Doc - Male

Doc

Happy -  Female

Happy

Bashful - Male

Bashful 

Sneezy - Female

Sneezy

Sleepy - Male

Sleepy

Snow White - Female

Snow White

Bonus pic of Sneezy snuggled into my hand.

Puppies! PUPPies!! PUPPIES!!!

Down here at Daddy Hawk's Discount Doggie Emporium, we just had a mix up with our distributor. She thought we said "nine" when what we really said was "Nein! Nyet! Nada!". So, the factory just drop shipped 9 puppies during the night with no return address. So, now we have a whole mess of puppies that must go, Go, GO!!! That means we're going to have a clearance sale. Everything must go! No reasonable offer refused. Unreasonable offers considered. Get your dogs while their hot, Hot, HOT!!! (subject to about an 8 week delay for delivery).

Daddy Hawk's Discount Doggie Emporium

To those of you acquainted with me in real life (or at least the facsimile of real life that exists on FaceBook), you already know what's coming. Shhh...don't spoil it for the rest of the readers.

So, last week, I had business in the southern part of the state. Since I live in North Texas, that would be pretty much most of Texas. However, in this particular instance, I am referring to the arm pit of Texas, the "greater" Houston metropolitan area, and San Antonio. Since it was a "two-fer" trip, I elected to drive as opposed to trying to deal with flights, hotels and rental cars. Just dealing with cars and hotels is a lot simpler and allows me to do two things: 1) control my own destiny (more or less), and 2) bring The Queen and M&M along with me for the ride.

Business was uneventful, and the drive home was sufficiently late enough Tuesday evening and near enough to Mimi's house, that we chose to stay the night since I didn't have to have the rental returned until Wednesday morning. When Wednesday morning dawned and we loaded up the rental for the short drive back to our home to off load our junk before returning the rental, we were departing Casa Mimi (aka "The Farm") when we spotted a female dog in the driveway who most clearly in "a family way".

We snapped the above pic and texted it to Mimi to see if she was aware of this young lady casing her house (this is not an unusual occurrence as Casa Mimi has been the refuge of  choice for many a stray over the years). Mimi denied any and all knowledge of the poor, lost waif but promised to keep an eye out for her. We proceeded to depart secure in the knowledge that God and Mimi would take care of it.

We didn't think much more about it until Friday morning when Mimi texted to advise that there was a 12 week old black lab puppy in her driveway. I thought that was oddly specific considering Mimi was departing for work at the time. We have not been "in the market" for a new dog since our beloved Numbnutt had to be put to sleep; however, a chance at a free black lab puppy is not to be missed. So, The Queen, M&M and I loaded up the chariot and returned to Casa Mimi to begin hunting for the rumored black lab puppy.

We arrived before Mimi returned from work at noonish to find no sign or trace of any black lab puppies. What we did find was the little lost, pregnant waif still loitering in the neighborhood. After much searching and following of little miss preggers, we came to the conclusion that the mamma dog to be and the black lab puppy were, in fact, one and the same. Mamma in waiting had been curling up in the flowers next to Mimi's driveway; and, when so cuddled up, her white patches were not visible. Mimi confessed to not having seen the fabled puppy standing or otherwise moving. So, a lab puppy was not to be.

But, the adventure endeth not there. A cold front was coming (or so sayeth the weather guessers...truly Texas forecasts are a joke at best), and temps were expected to drop below freezing. This was intolerable to one and all, and The Queen set about making efforts to befriend one pregnant female dog of uncertain pedigree (it's hard to tell in the photos, but she has a long neck, smallish lab shaped head, longer body out of proportion with her legs and a pit bull tail).

At first, mamma mia was reluctant to come near The Queen and gave a subtle "I'm scared. Leave me alone." low growl. Several treats later, some water, a dog bed and some food along with gentle coaxing by The Queen, and she was down right sociable.

As we spent more time around her, it became apparent that she was most likely a "dump". Some sub-human pile of excrement most likely dropped her off in a "nice area" (Mimi lives in a small, rural town...not quite "turn off the paved road", but you can see it from there.) thinking she could fend for herself. I'm here to tell you, after the better part of at least 3 days, she was not fending for herself. She was thirsty, hungry, scared, stressed, uncomfortable and still keeping a close eye on the road and perked an ear at certain car sounds. So, we suspect she had stayed close to where she was dropped in hopes that her "pack" would come back for her.

There are no words I can share for my thoughts on the person who would do that to a pregnant animal. Then again, I like animals a whole lot more than I like most people.

Anyway, on with our story. As night fell, temps were dropping, condensation was making everything wet, and she was a shivering ball of bloated beached whale. So, we decided she needed to be relocated to more suitable accommodations. Mimi just happens to have a reasonably well built greenhouse complete with heaters, etc. Mimi's house is in "no vacancy" status due to the pipsqueak in residence named Lulu who is sweet dog one on one but who has vociferously expressed her displeasure at the presence of an interloper. So, we made a comfy place for her and set about deciding how to relocate about 50 pounds worth of female dog and her bus load of puppies without inviting disaster.

Since she hadn't reach full trust stage with us yet, she was in no mood to help or make things easy for us. We wound up helping her into a dog bed after which I carried the dog, bed and all, to the greenhouse. She promptly spread out and made herself right at home. Several pettings and head scratchings later, and we received a couple of contented doggie sighs signaling that she was good for the night.

Saturday morning dawned to find us no closer to puppies getting their eviction notices. Mamma May I is much more  relaxed but as uncomfortable as one might expect a short legged dog to be carrying a wide load.

We did attempt to take her out for a walk or two to get her some fresh air and sunshine. Unfortunately, both walk attempts ended in short order after she got tuckered out necessitating yours truly acting as your friendly neighborhood sherpa to carry her back to her bed.

In the mean time, puppy watch continues. I expected to hear the pitter patter of little paws yesterday, but God apparently hasn't given the pups their GO signal yet.

Momma is really a sweet little lady, and I expect she will be a good momma dog to her babies. We have no idea what the pups will look like since we have no clue what the  male side of the equation looks like. I'm gamely trying to remain unattached to her which is really hard because she is an easy dog to like and who wouldn't want to take in an animal in need (discounting the piece of trash who dropped her off on the side of the road). M&M is already in love with her, and Momma Dog lights up like a church on Christmas Eve when M&M comes in to check on her. As much as we would like to take her in, we have other considerations not the least of which are three cats, a rabbit and an unknown number of puppies who need new homes. So, her status remains in limbo for the time being.

So, anyone looking for a sweet dog or a puppy? The puppies need a few more minutes in the oven before they will be done cooking at which time the recipe says to rest them in a cozy spot for about 8 weeks. Pics of pups to follow. Let me know if you are interested. Free to well qualified good homes.

Comings and Goings*

*Much has transpired since last we spoke. Those who are connected to me on the Book of Feces already know some of what I'm about to write. Grab your tissues now. You've been warned.

Along about Thursday evening before Mother's Day, The Queen and I were out and about minding our own business running mundane errands. One of those errands included a stop by the local PetSmart to receive our semi-regular fleecing for the privilege of overpaying for pet food (this is not a complaint against PetSmart as it's not really their fault that our animals HAVE to have the "good" stuff). As we were pulling into the parking lot, we noticed a lady pushing a shopping cart with a small ball of fur in it. The Queen immediately squealed sweet nothings about the unknown boo boo, and I slowed the chariot to avoid making the poor woman and said boo boo a grease spot in the lot. I did roll down my window to ask if The Queen could take a closer look (I know my wife too well).

Before I could say "Whatcha got in the basket Red?", the somewhat harried lady apologized to me for blocking the way. I allowed as how we were not in a hurry nor were we miffed with her presence and advertised The Queen's desire to inspect the fluff ball. Come to find out, the smidgeon of fur was a wee feline of roughly six weeks of age that the lady had spotted in the street moments before it had a close encounter of the Goodyear kind. The kitten apparently did a fair job of tuck and roll or was clipped ever so slightly by the unknown vehicle as the only visible indication of a near pancake experience was a slight scrape on his chin.

The lady told us she was bringing the little guy to PetSmart to see if they could take him in or connect him/them up with a rescue group as they already had their full allotment of felines currently and were unable to find room at the inn. The Queen immediately gave me "The Look"; and, I, manfully trying to maintain a desperate grip on some semblance of control and sanity, allowed as how we did not need another kitten either. The Queen was clearly disappointed, but she did not press the issue.

In what I suspected to be a foregone conclusion, I told The Queen to stick close to the lady and intervene if PetSmart was unable or unwilling to assist. The Queen was only too happy to oblige and proceeded to "help" the lady by holding the micro feline while the lady attempted to talk reason with the PetSmart employee and eventually a rescue organization loosely affiliated with PetSmart.

I went off to take care of the hunting and gathering of the supplies we had come for in the first place.

When I returned, I overheard the last part of the call with the rescue organization. The net result was that they could not take the feline until they found a willing foster family. Failing that, they would have to take the little to a regular animal shelter with the possibility of very short life expectancy.

I heaved a heavy sigh, told The Queen to take possession of the fluffy thing that was sharp and pointy on five of six appendages and staggered off for a bag of kitten kibble while muttering quietly about the fairness of life in general.

A half-hearted effort was made to locate a suitable home for the interloper, and I even received one interested party. Unfortunately, he and I were unable to connect before the kitten had dug his little claws into the family's heart and refused to let go.

Dirty pool little fuzzball, dirty pool.

So, we are the proud slaves to a now 10ish week old male kitten named Winkerbean.

Several other names were tried on for size including:

Binky

Rocket

Stinker

Clawed

Ozzy Clawsbourne

Pinball (appropriate, but taken by my aunt’s cat)

Hissy (previously taken by another family cat and retired)

Rocky

Freebie

Spot (also previously taken)

Have you ever tried to get a six year old to agree on a name for an animal? Especially a six year old who named her rabbit Taco? Winkerbean was the compromise with two out of three family members agreeing and me issuing the deciding edict that we were done trying on new names.

He's definitely settled in for the long haul now. Cute little bugger with a healthy purr and an unhealthy appetite for electrical cords. 

Little did we know that God, in His infinite wisdom, had sent little Winkerbean to us for a reason. 

We have known for about the last two years or so that our remaining dog, Numbnutt - The Half Dog, has been living on borrowed time. He had a close call with a bad case of acute gastroenteritis a couple of years ago and less serious recurrence about a year ago. We just never knew how much time we had left. 

He was born in August of 2005 to my oldest niece's dog, Lilly, while The Queen and JuJu were off cavorting in St. Kitts while I was stuck finishing out my last few days working for a truly evil company before relocating to Houston for a new job. 

The proto Numbnutt on the right.

My niece claimed the proto Numbnutt for her own before giving away his siblings to those well qualified suckers who showed interest. She gave him his first name by trying to placate my displeasure at her lack of responsibility for allowing Lilly to get pregnant by naming the proto Nutt after me. At the time, I was not pleased with the comparison. I got over it. 

So, the proto Nutt went home with Juju and Lilly. Several months later, we received a call from my brother in law that the proto Nutt was in danger of becoming extinct thanks to his momma teaching him to kill chickens. It seems that my brother in law's wife had marked the Nutt for death and was seen looking for suitable implements to off the goofball for the crime of being a dog with a taste for hatched eggs. 

My brother in law, not being one to allow such a fate to befall an "innocent" dog when he knew there were animal lovers in the family to guilt, called The Queen. The Queen asked for/told me I was giving permission to rescue the Nutt, and he was delivered somewhat unceremoniously to our house whereupon he became of ward of my father in law since we had relocated to Houston and had not yet found permanent housing. My father in law bequethed upon him the second of his many names, Tornado, because of his boundless energy. To this day, my father in law refuses to call him Numbnutt. 

Following our return from Houston thanks to The Queen's Mystery Illness interlude, he more or less became a shared dog between us and the in laws. Hence, the appellation of "The Half Dog." It was during the Mystery Illness/Unwilling Two Year Separation that The Queen essentially claimed the Nutt as her own. On one of her good days, she was playing with the dog in the yard, and he was happily acting goofy as always. The Queen said, "You're such a numbnut!", and the rest is history.

From that day forward, he has been Numbnutt. Anywhere we went, he drew praise for his good looks.

Handsome little devil

Inevitably, people would ask his name...and then do a double take when we said "Numbnutt" with a straight face. It became really funny when M&M came along and was old enough to proudly say his name. The college girls at the nearby university found him irresistible when we took our evening walks over there.

Numbnutt has been fiercely protective of his humans and loyal to a fault. He was always especially fond of sharing kisses with anyone in range...which was surprising how far that tongue would reach. "No tongue!!" became a standard phrase around the house.

As he aged, he never lost a step. He would go and go and go. He never grayed around his muzzle like most dogs in their 10s.

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. Last Thursday, M&M came into the bedroom where I was doing something and said that there was problem with the Nutt. I came to investigate and immediately called The Queen. Numbnutt had just finished his dinner when he collapsed in the living room. I found him on his side, breathing heavily with a rapid heart rate. He had voided his bladder and bowels and was not focusing or responsive. We succeeded in getting him to his feet, but he only made it a few feet to the kitchen before he collapsed again. This time, he threw up his dinner.

Being after normal vet hours, I was not looking forward to another visit to the 24 hour vet in town. My last experience with them was not pleasant. So, I did a quick Google search and the first result was another vet's office that was open until 10:00PM. We loaded the car quickly, and I called the vet's office while on the way to see if they could work us in while explaining the situation.

Numbutt gamely tried to stand up during the car ride to watch the world go by, but his legs wouldn't keep him up. We arrived at the vet's office in short order, and The Queen filled out the necessary paperwork. We were ushered to a room, and the vet came in after a short wait. He was an older gentleman evoking the image of a kindly, family doctor. After hearing our description of the symptoms and doing his own examination, he laid it out for us in gentle tones that he could do a lot of tests to confirm what he already knew....our dog was dying. He said plainly that he could run the tests and probably determine whether it was a tumor or an internal bleed; but, ultimately, there was nothing that could be done. He recommended euthanasia as opposed to prolonging the suffering.

The Queen, in particular, was heartbroken. We were all crying, but The Queen was especially sad. Numbnutt was her comfort during her illness when I was unable to be there for her.

The Queen and Numbnutt - May 2017

The Queen was Numbnutt's Alpha. He would listen to her no matter what. He stood by her and made her smile no matter what. He lived to make her happy and receive nothing more than a kind word and a head scratch or a belly rub in return.

His passing was as peaceful as we could make it. The vet did an excellent job of a difficult task, and I cannot say enough good about them. They earned our respect and will be our regular vet going forward. I took Numbnutt down to Mimi's property to find a suitable resting place.

Like any good dog, he loved to dig holes and lie in the sun. Unlike many dogs, he never bothered cats and left Taco the rabbit alone as well.

I found him a nice spot in the open surrounded by trees so that he could still lie in the sun.

Like all good dogs, Numbnutt loved to dig holes and lie in the sun. He just needed a little help digging the last one.

Rest well our faithful boy. Enjoy the sun.

The Everything Update

Dear Readers,

Much has transpired since last we spoke. Rather than try to string together time and sanity to do individual topic updates, I thought it would be more efficient to throw it all in a blender and see what oozes out of the mix.

WORK/BUSINESS

After an initial flurry of optimism generated by actual business coming in the door, my LLC has been conspicuously quiet for the last 3 months or so. Part of that is the seasonal nature of the business. Part is probably not enough solid business contacts to support a growing business. I’ve got a lot of people who say they want to send me business, but the grand total of those who have actually come through and sent me work can be counted on one hand.

So, in order to keep the family fed and the lights on, I took a temporary job about three months ago while continuing the “all options on the table” job search and business growth plan. The pay is not great, but it beats unemployment “benefits”. On the plus side, the company I am temping for has wanted to hire me since the third day I was in the office. Initially, I demurred since we were just getting to know each other, and I had other irons in the fire. Now, I’m just waiting for them to put a bona fide offer in writing. They didn’t choke when I threw out a salary requirements number. We shall see what, if anything, develops there. 

I fly out to FL in a few weeks for an in person interview with a company based there. I’d say it’s encouraging to have a company willing to pay for a flight, hotel and car rental to check my teeth, but I’ve been in that position before. There’s no guarantee that it will mean an offer. If there is an offer forthcoming, it will likely come down to the money (since a major relocation would be involved).

There are several other positions I am pursuing one of which is particularly interesting to me. It would be a work from home position which has a lot of appeal since we intend to homeschool the wonder midget.

Then there was the recruiter who called today about a position I interviewed for a few years ago that is open again. I suppose it’s too much to hope that that company will see the error of their ways and shower me in money.

I’m not giving up on the LLC. If the floodgates open on that front, I’ll be ecstatic. If not, I can’t afford to sit on my thumbs and not do anything.

M&M

M&M, the wonder midget and cutest not so little girl in the world, continues to grow, dazzle and amaze. She is on the downhill side of 5 and a half going on 25. She weighs in at a well-proportioned and lean 52 pounds and measures just a hair or two short of 4 feet tall. All we did was blink, and…BAM!!!...suddenly it’s getting difficult to hold her. I don’t turn down her frequent requests to be carried or held unless I absolutely have to since it won’t be long before it’s physically impossible for me to do so.

I predict she will be the first female drafted into the NBA (not WNBA) as a point guard where she will have a successful 10 year career before retiring to have kids and cure cancer or solve the world’s energy problems. When she is 50, she will be elected first empress of the world for life at which time she will ban all partisan politics and biased media reporting (transgressions of the imperial edict will be punishable by banishment to the surface of Mars where you can live out your partisan fantasies…if you can breathe).

Seriously though, her birthday falls in November which puts her in an awkward scholastic position. Were we to enroll her in public school, we would not be able to officially enroll her until fall of 2018. Then, it would be the choice of kindergarten or kindergarten. Since The Queen has been unofficially homeschooling her since she was old enough to speak coherently, M&M is already well passed pre-K and most kindergarten level school work. Heck, she already reads at a second grade level. So, the plan is to start homeschooling her this fall as an official first grader (I think) and adjust course work as necessary. We will take care of socialization through homeschool coops and play groups with kids of varying age groups. Once she is older, we will investigate having her attend extracurricular activities such as band and sports in the public school system depending on her interest.

Here lately, M&M has been demonstrating behavior well above her age level. She is a very serving and polite young lady who gets compliments everywhere she goes. When The Queen (or, more rarely, I) gets sick, she is right there to help take care of what needs to be done including fetching water, reading stories, hugs, etc. I’d take credit, but it’s all The Queen’s doing.

THE QUEEN

Poison ivy is a right evil bitch. It’s even worse when you are a highly sensitive red head that was unaware that the pesky vines you were pulling and cutting off the fence were, in fact, poison ivy. Two days and a couple of hot showers later, The Queen was covered head to toe in misery inducing rash. That was about 3 weeks ago. At its worst, the rash covered about 75 to 80 % of The Queen’s body. Her eyes almost swelled shut early on. Poor thing looked like she’d been beat up by Mike Tyson. Unfortunately, due to The Queen’s other health issues, she is unable to take the only known medical treatment which is either oral prednisone or intramuscular injection of same. We’ve tried pretty much everything that can be had over the counter. The rash has finally started receding. The worst areas remaining are her hands and forearms. I am hopeful that another week or two will see her right as rain.

In other news, we have a new mantra in the house: All Ivy is EVIL!

Avoidance and paying others to deal with any future ivy disposal needs will be the primary means of defense.

OTHER DRAMATIS PERSONAE UPDATES

OMA AND OPA

Here about two months ago, The Queen Mum (Oma) and her consort (Opa) relocated from the  outer realms to cohabitate with us here at Castle Erickson. The genesis of this move requires a little backstory.

Oma has been suffering with early onset Alzheimer’s for several years now. Her condition is not as bad as some we have known, but it does have its challenges. She recognizes us in the sense that she knows we belong there in the house, but she does not know our names or relation to her. We don’t think she remembers her own name, but it’s hard to tell sometimes. Her short term memory tops out at a couple of minutes. Overall, her health is excellent, and she is fully ambulatory and able to eat. She is, however, starting to lose her grasp on basic hygiene and other skills, and she has a bad habit of stashing food in odd places (only to be rediscovered once it is fully rotten). She is also exhibiting “Sundowner’s Syndrome” which means she gets very confused and active, almost manic, when the sun goes down. It’s apparently common with Alzheimer’s patients. Fortunately, so far, she has been a very gentle and benign patient with no major outbursts or aggressive tendencies. Hopefully that will continue. Given her overall health, we expect her to live another 20 years barring unforeseen illness.

Opa, Oma’s husband of 50+ years, had been caring for Oma on his own in addition to dealing with his own health issues for the last couple of years pretty much non-stop with the exception of our semi-regular weekend visits. Opa and Oma are within a few months of each other age wise; however, their physical conditions could not be more different. Opa’s warranty expired a long time ago, but his condition has been getting progressively worse in the last 5 years. Over the last 6 months or so, we had been noticing his energy levels declining to the point we were concerned. We are pretty sure he had a minor heart attack back in about March or so, but we could not convince him to see a doctor about it. So, that remains a guess. We finally prevailed upon him to come to our house “for a visit” with Oma to rest and let us give him a break from having to do it all for the both of them. So, in early June, they packed a week’s worth of clothes and came to our house.

As you would expect, a little love, genuine concern and regular meals goes a long way to keeping people happy, healthy and wise. Over the next couple of weeks, Opa’s desire to go home went from “maybe in a few days” to “maybe we’ll stay with you all a while longer” to “what do we need to do to move in?” We moved heaven and earth (in some cases, literally) and had their house cleaned out in short order (with lots of help from The Queen’s brother, sister-in-law, niece and nephews). There is a renter lined up to rent their house for the next 6 months following which the plan is to sell it. So, if you want a killer deal on a recently remodeled (professionally) manufactured home (double wide, 2 bed 2 bath) located in Granbury, TX, drop us a line. We’ll work out a deal. Land not included (since my brother in law owns the dirt).

MY SISTER…THE DEVIL

MS…TD is living somewhat of a parallel life to mine…albeit in mirror image. She, her esposo – The Jack of All Trades, and Niece I Do It, recently moved in with MS…TD’s father in law who is getting on up there in age as the saying goes. I, being the wonderful brother that I am, provided some assistance in the moving process. While it wasn’t the worst move I’ve ever been involved in, it was definitely in the running for a top 3 finish.

The winner and holder of the life time achievement award for bad moves was Number One Follower’s practice wife. There are two infamously memorable and epically bad moves with her fingerprints all over them. The first time was when we helped her move out of her apartment at midnight (which I found later was because she was skipping out on rent with no forwarding address)…the cockroaches were less than thrilled when we woke them up by lifting their couch (yes, THEIR couch…dozens of them). And let’s not mention the dryer lint caked on the laundry closet wall. I’m surprised the whole complex didn’t burn down. The second one will not be discussed…I’m pretty sure I came close to witnessing a murder that day (and I would have been only too glad to aid and abet the disposal of the body in the process).

But,  I digress.

In other news, MS…TD is now a genuine published author. If you are into sorta kinda romance/fantasy/smut novels, you can get your fill here , here and here. I am not currently an Amazon affiliate. So, I don’t make a dime off the referral, but MS…TD will be grateful for your support. I provided a decent amount of editing and beta reader input as well as some technical consulting on her debut novel. I was asked to beta read the second novel and got a chapter or two into it before I had other commitments get in the way. Not being a connoisseur of the genre, I can’t say if they are good, bad or ugly.

I will say that MS…TD utterly ignored my advice to change the name of her main character in her debut novel. Somewhere, I have a copy of the manuscript with the name changed to Horace. I like that only slightly better. Beau. She seriously named the lead male in a semi-romantic novel with fantasy elements…BEAU!!! Pardon me while I puke. In the most loving way possible for a human being to hurl, of course. Mephistopheles would have been better. Elmer Fudd would have been better. Sodom Wanna Gonorrhea would have been better. But, no…Beau it is. Shake my head.

MY FATHER

My father, who will henceforth be known as Reporter #6 (he had an actual, minor, credited role in Mississippi Burning), has also put his English degree to use and published a couple of novels. I’ve read a version of the first one. I have a pre-publication copy of the second one somewhere that I haven’t had a chance to read yet. Throw a few shekels at the old man if you’re of a mind to. He tells a decent story even if it’s hard to pin down a genre.

NIECE TWIG

Last fall, Twig decided to uproot and move to Georgia to continue her college education in nursing school. Apropos of nothing, her high school sweetheart, is also stationed at Fort Bragg as an Army Ranger in training. I suppose I will need to give him a blog name now that he is family.

Wait….what?

Yes, a regression is in order. Prior to Twig leaving on the midnight train to Georgia, our budding Army Ranger, henceforth to be known as Gearhead (for his true passion is cars), asked my brother in law, Jack of All Trades, for his blessing to take Twig’s hand in marriage. JOAT’s response was something along the lines of “not yet” which caused a bit of drama. Twig and Gearhead proceeded to make plans for a December wedding despite the drama. Unfortunately, the vagaries of Army life made definitive planning impossible at best. So, the young couple decided to “elope” and get married over Labor Day weekend. Their plan included a vaguely defined idea to hold a reception when time and schedules allowed. Now, for those of you who don’t remember your recent weather news, Labor Day Weekend and Georgia equals landfall for Tropical Storm Hermine. Twig and Gearhead were supposed to meet the chaplain at a Starbucks to get hitched. Well, the Starbucks closed so that the baristas could head for the hills. Not to be deterred, our young lovers got married in the cab of the chaplain’s pickup in the Starbucks parking lot while the storm raged around them.

They seem happy from what I’ve heard, and it’ll be a great story for the grandkids. Word is they plan to return to Texas when Gearhead departs the military sometime in 2019.

NIECE I DO IT

I Do It continues her edumication in the fine art of animation in which she hopes to make a career. She is a very talented artist, but I have no idea what the job prospects are for a college graduate with an art degree in animation.

THE MENAGERIE

Numbnutt, the ½ dog, and Taco, the wonder bunny, have been joined by Tinkle Splat The Wonder Cat (on the right) and Sunny (on the left whom I call Ginger Snap).

The Queen named the dog because, “He acts like a dork.” M&M named the rest of the menagerie. We weren’t entirely sure about Sunny’s gender when he first came here, but he seems to have overcome any lingering doubts about his gender by demonstrating said sexuality without concern for gender or species (much to Tinkle’s perpetual dismay).

Numbnutt is about to turn 12, and he’s slowing down a bit. We almost lost him last fall to an acute case of aggressive gastroenteritis. He recovered, but you can tell he is getting up there in age. He’s slowed down a bit, but he’s still a very loyal and sweet dog.

Taco is a recently widowered bunny after his paramour, Sky, departed for the great rabbit hole in the sky. So far, I have been successful in rejecting any attempts to play matchmaker for the poor, lonely and extremely virile bunny.

And that’s all the news that’s fit to print for now. Further updates as events warrant.