Only in Wanchese

"I'm going for a run, honey!"

"I really don't like you running at night...at least take Tuff with you," my sweet husband told me.

Mind you, Tuff is far from the definition of his name. He is 70lbs worth of white lab snuggles. So I chuckled to myself when it was suggested that I bring him along.

It was a quiet night. Missy Elliott and I were totally flipping it and reversing it when out of nowhere, a chocolate lab appears. I jump out of my skin because naturally, I didn't hear him coming. #thanksdrdre Tuff, being startled by my squeal...barked, scared himself and dove in between my legs.

The chocolate lab seemed harmless. He was wagging his tail and very excited to see company at 9 something at night. I tried to shoo him away so we could carry on...right about the time that Tuff decided he must defend his mother's honor & jumped at said chocolate lab. As luck would have it, I also went flying towards the chocolate lab, since at some point, the leash had gotten wrapped around my legs. I landed head first, feet and legs in the air, in the middle of the lab-argument. #fantastic

They both stopped and looked at me wide-eyed. Tuff braced for impact, knowing he was getting ready to get in big trouble. However, I couldn't sufficiently scold him because not only was I tangled in the leash, but I was also tangled my dang headphone cord. I looked like a calf that had been roped in a rodeo!

I finally got to my feet and the damn chocolate lab was still there...bouncing like bunny rabbit, I'm assuming singing "where are we going?! what are we doing?! are you my mommy?!" Again, I tried to shoo him...nothing. I picked up a stick & threw it, thinking he would chase it. No, he jumped up and caught it midair. #impressive Finally, I decided we would just run for it, assuming that eventually he would get tired of running and stop.

Except labs never get tired...of anything...ever.

He ran all the way home with us, trying to race/play with Tuff the entire time. When we strolled into the driveway, he joined us...like "So this is where we live...cooooool!" I yelled go home- and off he went.

My upper body certainly wishes I would've thought of that sooner. Shew! Next time, I'll opt for my pepper spray instead of my lab! #thanksbabe

King Zorro

On Monday, we didn't say good-bye.

We didn't cry. {well...we tried not to.}

We ate raw bacon and told stories without words...we snuggled in bed in silence, letting our memories do the talking.

For 13 years, I have been a "we" with Zorro. While I have been attached to other 'we' companions, he has been my constant- my partner, my guardian, my best-friend, by my side through it all. 

We went to college together, moving several times. Our travels took us all over the East Coast- it never mattered where we lived, he was happy as long as he was with me. He was my first baby- he taught me how to love and nurture...he truly taught me how to be a mother.

When Little Miss arrived, I never worried how he would handle her. I knew he would protect her just as he had always protected me. Although he took the initial introduction of the baby blanket a bit rough, {he tore it to shreds} once he met her in person- it was love at first sniff. He would whine when she would cry- and sleep uncomfortably on the floor near her swing while she swung.

Up until a few weeks ago, Zorro never slept a night alone. He has always slept right next to me in bed, tucked neatly under the covers for the entire night. When he stopped following me to bed at night, I knew I was soon going to have to make a very difficult decision. I began praying every night for God to let Zorro know I would be okay and that it was time for him to go. But deep down, I knew that he wouldn't let go on his own. His loyalty has always been to be by my side and letting go just wasn't something he would do unless I helped him. I changed my nightly prayer- and asked for a sign that Zorro was ready.

On Monday morning, I got out of bed and Zorro, who was sleeping in the hallway next to my door, wouldn't pick his head up. He was awake, but just couldn't look at me. The sign was clear.

Saying the words out loud was the most difficult...I could get through the day if I didn't have to say it- say that I was about to lose my best friend. But I had to...and every time I would say it- I would lose it. {I'm so thankful for my work family. Mostly for them not judging my ugly-cry in the middle of our workday.}

So Monday afternoon, like I said...we snuggled, we ate raw bacon {well, he did} and we said "save me a spot up there!" because it's not good-bye. Good-bye's are final...and this isn't final. I know we will meet again someday. Until then, I know he is watching down over me each day, just like he always has.

Rest in Peace, my sweet boy...my King Zorro.

 

Kitty OD

I'm taking a break from editing to share a little story with you all...brighten your day a bit, make you laugh, gross you out, etc. (If you're not an animal person or are squeamish- you may want to skip this post.)

So yesterday morning, in the wee-way-to-early hours of 3am- I was  abruptly awoken when I rolled into a wet spot. (I can almost guarantee the 'wet spot' you're thinking is definitely not the one I'm referring to.) Sweet Pea was snuggled up next to me...and was soaking wet- all in the hind end area. I immediately thought it was his anal glands- but it had absolutely no scent and those of you who've ever smelled anal glands know there is definitely a scent. I put a towel under him & went back to sleep- he wasn't in pain or acting oddly so, I figured it'd probably go away on it's own. Whatever it was.

But it didn't. When I got up, it seemed worse. The uhmm, fluid, seemed like it was literally jogging right out of his butt. I still assumed it was the glands...so off to the vet we went.

A trip to the vet's office is never cheap. There are always a few things you didn't know you needed that you're told your cat will die without. (And Sweet Pea is Little Miss's cat..so you know I had no choice but to get him all better, immediately.) The doctor decides that what I was actually seeing was diarrhea, not anal gland 'juice' (gag) and it's caused from a bacterial infection. He got several shots and we were sent home with antibiotics and a sad heart. (I had the sad heart from the bill, in case you're wondering.)

Shortly after walking in the door, I notice Little Miss's chocolate milk cup from the night before sitting on the floor...empty. (Sweat Pea has been known to drink out of cups, then knock them over when he's finished.) Would chocolate milk cause a cat to have diarrhea like that??? Well, chocolate milk with an adult dose of Miralax mixed in it will. Ouch.

I looked over at Sweet Pea, as if to ask, seriously, dude? You drank that? And I was greeted by a what the hell are you putting in your child's food!?!?! THAT WAS AWFUL! kind of look. Poor guy, he almost-literally shit his brains out.

I think he learned his lesson. 

Thankful

This Thanksgiving was one of firsts.

I cooked my very first turkey. I almost threw-up on said turkey, during the 'prep' process. I cooked two pumpkin pies, for the first time ever...and here is the big first, nothing caught on fire and everything tasted amazing! (Oh, and no one got sick! Yay!)

Although I cooked quite a few dishes at home, we ate dinner over at my parents home. It was nothing short of a smorgousborg of incredible food. Collard greens? Oh yes, with cornmeal dumplings. Yum, it makes my heart flutter like a teenager with her first crush.

Recipes from family members past and present flooded the thanksgiving table, as did the memories. It reminded me to be thankful for things those past relatives have left behind- whether it's a plate or a recipe,  morals or butterfly kisses...never take a moment for granted, they pass by too quickly.

Speaking of recipes, let's talk about dessert and my grandfather's recipe for pineapple cake. Yum-O. Or my daddy's recipe for chocolate-cheesecake...well, it's not actually his recipe, but he found it somewhere & made it wonderfully.

After dinner, Little Miss decided to click her sparkly heels and transform herself into a dancing machine. Let's face it, she didn't need to transform much at all.

I'm thankful she got rhythm from someone else in the family. I look like I'm having small seizures when I 'break-it-down'.

And I'm oh-so-thankful for our four-legged family. They make me laugh on a daily basis- sometimes in the midst of almost-breaking-my-neck from tripping over one-of-the-five of them.

Sweet Pea stalked the kitchen all morning, certain there would be some sort of turkey scraps he'd need to dispose of. Just when he gave up, the bacon was ready. About the time he dropped a tiny bacon crumb, which prompted Tinker to fly in like his butt was on fire, I was moving the over-flowing pumpkin pie towards the oven. Tinker got under my feet and ended up with pie filling from ears to tail. He was thrilled!!

I'm thankful I didn't have a sink full of dishes at that very moment, so I could toss my pie-covered chihuahua into the sink for a bath. (Yes, I bathe him in the sink...in the kitchen.)

Even though the turkey almost didn't get cooked and the pie almost didn't make it to the oven, it was the most perfect Thanksgiving we've ever had. Now, bring on Hanukkah and Christmas! Let the decorating being!!

Ponzer, NC

Storm & I (and lots of other horses and horse folk) spent all day Saturday in Ponzer, NC. What is in Ponzer, you might ask? Nothing. A gas station, appropriately named "The Store", lots of farm land, hunting camps and a little trail ride we decided to attend.

It was the 3rd Annual "Thumbs Up" trail ride- we quickly found out just before taking the trails. Our "trail boss" held her hand up, as if to do the thumbs up sign...but had no thumb. She explained that the first year they hosted the ride, she lost her thumb. Glad we're starting on a positive note, I thought to myself.

Sometimes you just have to rock out with your spurs out...

This is part of our group- waiting for our thumbless trail boss...something we did most of the ride.

One of my favorite parts of the ride was taking the horses out into the Intracoastal Waterway for a swim. Here are some of my favorite gals letting their horses cool off in the waterway.

Mandy & I- taking a self portrait while our horses were stuffing their bellies.
(Thanks for being such a great friend, Mandy! ♥ you!)

After the ride we took the horses all the way out into the waterway for a real swim. Storm & I were both drenched from our heads to our toes/hooves. It is an incredible feeling to have a horse trust you enough to take swimming- to feel him swim under your body. Only real horse people would understand the adrenaline rush you get the first time. :)

Storm's previous owners attended the trail ride, as well. They were amazed at all we (me & him) have accomplished over the last few months.

*I will post more pictures as I get them...there is one that I'm dying to see of me, Storm, Mandy & Ace in the waterway while a huge sailboat passes us.

I'm Ready

Eight years ago I lost my best friend. He was 26 years old and had been in my life since he was 18. Together I felt like we could conquer the world. I remember visiting the barn who originally rescued him from his abusive home, just 2 weeks after my first horse passed away. (Although Sham was my first horse, she was hardly my best friend. She taught me a lot in the 2 short years we had her, but she was more like a bitchy aunt than a best friend.) I watching him prance and pace back and forth- snorting and stomping. He seemed kind but nervous and scared. It was obvious that he needed someone to love him- as he was only about 900lbs. (Considering his height, he only a few days away from dying had he not been found.)

A few weeks after we brought him home, I came inside crying. I told my mom and dad that Brandy would never love me like Sham did. (The previous owner was an alcoholic and named him after the liquor.)

I ran inside crying because Brandy wouldn't stay in his stall with me while he ate his dinner. It broke my heart that he didn't trust me....and in my 10 year old mind, I thought he never would.

A few months later, Brandy trusted me to not only stay in the stall with him while he ate- but to sit on him while he laid down in the backyard to rest. From then on, the trust I had for him and the trust he had for me was endless.

August 16th, 2001- after several days of heartbreak, I lost my best friend. The doctor's told us it was kidney failure. I found Brandy laying in the backyard a few days before & he wasn't able to get up. I pulled and begged him- please don't give up- until he finally got up...for me. The next few days we tried to keep him comfortable and cool, as it was unbearably hot. We'd been in the barn with him constantly- between me, my mom & Missy- I don't think he was alone at all over those few days. Somehow, we'd all come inside- one to nap, one to use the bathroom, etc. That's when it happened. He had a nosebleed- and I found traces of his blood on the chair I was sitting on and all the way up to the stairs leading into the house. He was looking for me.

We found him laying in the entryway to his stall- his body still warm. I laid down beside him and prayed that he would visit me in my dreams. And he does.

I didn't know if I would ever be ready to have my own horse again. My heart still hurts as bad as it did on that hot day in August when I lost my boy- but now, I'm ready to put my trust in another equine...and I think I've found just the perfect one, who needs my trust as much as I need his.

Introducing: WhatUSeeIsWhatUGet AKA: Storm

"Let's get the new guy!""See...told you if we just ignored him, he'd go away...""Ugh! Who made eye contact?! RUN!"So far he seems to be adjusting pretty well to his new home and new friends. Hopefully the "hazing" will end soon & he will be able to join the herd. ;)

And yes, he's a North Carolina horse. Little Miss are heading back that way on Wednesday.

Best Friends

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Kitty Tails (badumchi)

Borat is one of the most relaxed cats I have ever known, much less owned. He will literally get his toenail caught in the carpet and just lay down and wait for me to help him. Not frantically waiting, just like “Oh well…*yawn* someone will be along shortly to help me out…or not, whatever.”

Regardless of his relaxed nature, he’s not a huge fan of water. Even though he will hang out in the bathroom while Little Miss takes her bath…he does not usually venture near the tub. Until yesterday.

I had just finished giving Little Miss a bath…the tub was still full of water and she was sitting in the bathroom floor, wrapped up in a towel when the door opens. Borat sashays his way past us and leaps (leaps!) into the tub!! He had a look of sheer horror on his face when he turned around- soaked, but still in the tub! I grabbed Little Miss b/c I figured he’d be clawing his way out of that water like a mad-man…but no. He looked around and calmly climbed out of the tub- as if to say, “Aw man…now I’m all wet. Shucks, I hope someone gets me a towel.”

What cat does that!? He is such a goof-ball! Juno was also in the bathroom for the festivities- and she was definitely not into following Borat into the tub. In fact, her facial expression read…”dumbass purebred” (She’s so hood.)

Neither of them is too pleased with me tonight. I got them both collars…with bells!! They jingle all over the house and I think it’s hilarious. Borat is quietly annoyed, but Juno tries to run from the noise- which I find particuarly humorous. The look on her face is priceless…she pins her ears back and runs like her ass is on fire, then slams on breaks and turns around like “ah! It stopped!” Then starts to walk again & the jingling starts again…and she runs again. My sides hurt from laughing at her.

I’m really not cruel.

See…she’s getting used to it!

Hyperactive Kitties

Borat & Juno…I wish they would relax a little, ya know?

Make your sassy face…

Cowgirl, Baby!

Trouble, Little Miss & I, riding around Wanchese