Part Four--Confessions of An Almost Dog Lover

A Red SUV, a Red Light, and Red Box

Maddie is wagging her way into our hearts but we still desire to find her family. This whole situation is, I am afraid, making me crazy. As in, losing my mind. One sandwich short of a picnic. The lights are on but nobody's home. Or maybe just barking up the wrong tree.

The other day, one of my sons happened to be in the front yard. He came running in to tell me that a red SUV was drving down the street with open windows, calling out "Daisy!" I ran to the backyard and said "Daisy!" and Maddie came running. Then I dashed back to the front to see where the red SUV was and my son said it had just turned right onto May Avenue so I jumped into my car, and sped down the street in pursuit of a red vehicle. Aha, just ahead was a red mini SUV, in the turning lane and, happily for me, it was a red light. I jumped out of my car, ran up to them and asked if they had been looking for their dog Daisy. Ummm, no, they had not. Jumped back into my car, swung over into the next lane, and spied a red van at the gas station. Well, maybe my son doesn't know the difference between a van and an SUV. It was worth a try. The car's driver was apparently in the gas station getting a Big Gulp. I decided not to go inside and ask who owned the red van. Patiently waiting out by the van, I briefly wondered if I was losing my mind. Before I had time to answer myself, a big guy with a 12 pack (of beer, not abs) came out and I asked if he had lost a little dog named Daisy. No, he hadn't but he wanted to hear the whole story. I was a little impatient to get back to my search for more red vehicles but I gave him the short version. He wished me luck and we both peeled out of the gas station, me in the lead. The next red vehicle I spotted was parked near a Redbox, probably renting Old Yeller, or Where the Red Fern Grows or Shiloh or another sad dog movie. But nope, she didn't lose her dog and she was actually renting Jack the Giant Slayer.

By this time, all the red vehicles in the area had left because there was this crazy person flagging them down and asking if they had lost a dog. So I went back home to play with Maddie/Daisy, who by this time, was not answering to the name "Daisy."

Part Three--Confessions of an Almost Dog Lover

For this dog, going for a ride is like going to the movies.

"wow. I did NOT see that coming."

"Hey, who took my popcorn?"

Part Two--Confessions of an Almost Dog Lover

The Continuing Saga 

Thanks for staying with me here.

We have a dog and a cat already, two animals that I basically just tolerate.

So I began to set into motion my plan for returning this little girl doggie to her home. From the moment we first saw her and learned she was a stray, we thought of Maddox. This was Maddox; it had to be!!! Maddox the Miniature Doberman Pinscher whose poster is on every lamppost between here and Edmond, possibly even Guthrie. We played with Maddox. We fixed up a little bed for her and gave her some more water and food. Daniel made Maddox a "survival bracelet" collar and leash.  Our family would be the heroes in the story of the missing Maddox. I could hardly wait to send her home to her family, who had been looking for her for six months and who  had spent who knows how much on "lost dog" posters. Meanwhile, Maddox was having a good time at our house and enjoying all the attention and we were enjoying being foster dog parents.

However, one tiny little problem surfaced. We found out that the real Maddox is a boy. Oops. And the dog who was formerly known as Maddox became Maddie.

We walked and drove through the neighborhood we found her in. We knocked on doors. We hung up "Found Dog" posters. We stopped people in the street to ask if they knew of anyone missing a dog. We ran into B.J. Wexler (of OETA Movie Club fame). Actually we didn't run into him; he was driving down the street and we flagged him down. Totally. And practically melted into our boots when we realized who he was. Yeah, just another day in my life...

But he was very kind and called me a good American. It must be true because he mentioned it several times. I guess it is patriotic to try to return a lost dog to his home. Whatever. He now has my name and number should anyone ever come to his door and ask if he has seen a little stray Min-Pin. It could happen, I suppose.

                  (more about B.J. Wexler  http://www.okmag.com/August-2011/Mr-Cinema/)

Confessions of An Almost Dog Lover--Part One

I would be the first to admit that I am NOT a dog lover. I have said this for years without the slightest twinge of guilt. I love babies and kids--yes, I am pretty much basically just a little-people lover.

Until Maddie. Maddie came into our lives on a sunny Saturday in June. We found her wandering around, sniffing out squirrels and looking for a friend. And instantly, just like that, she found 6 friends in our family. Or maybe, 5 friends and a mommy. That dog stuck to me with a bond that was more Gorilla glue than Elmers.

She was well-mannered and dainty in her habits from the first. She nibbled on her food and gracefully drank without spilling. She slept in the dog crate and asked nicely to go outside.

And Maddie followed me around, jumped up on my lap whenever I sat down, and watched every move I made. Flattering, indeed.

But I am not a dog person. If anything, I am a cat person. Dogs are too rowdy and noisy and busy. And they don't get along with cats.

And Maddie's little ears were so soft and her fur so sleek and her dancing eyes such a pretty caramel brown. She had a way of cocking her head to look at me and of standing in front of the door and jumping straight up into the air. She didn't bark much--well, that is until she spotted a squirrel or another dog infringing on her *new* territory.

But I am not a dog person. I might have already mentioned this fact.

Helpful HInts for Home Remodeling

When you are completing a home remodeling project, here are a few important tips to keep in mind:

Proper ear protection is recommended. Or you can just cover your ears.

 Plenty of light is crucial.

Never, ever stand on the top rung of a ladder. Sitting there, however, is okay.

                                                        

                                     

Secure all loose electrical wires.

If you find yourself getting sleepy, take a break or even a nap. 

Whenever the mood strikes and wherever you happen to be.

Appropriate footwear is important, i.e. no white shoes after Labor Day.

Although flip flops and bare feet are generally not recommended footwear on the job, 

we can overlook it since we are not professionals.

(we only appear to be)

If the door isn't quite installed, feel free to walk through the wall...

 ...or squeeze through the doggie door.

Keep your hair pulled back in a "messy bun" with a clippie... 

...or a cute head band. 

Because a girl can't spend all of her time remodeling. 

She ought to spend a little time modeling.

                                             

Don't have too much fun.

Always try out a new door before it is completely installed...

just to make sure you fit.

Children should never climb on ladders near electrical wires...

it could be dangerous...

or dangerously cute.

Don't ever confuse nails with toenails.

For goodness sake, don't step on the former with the latter.

And as long as I am in the advice giving mode, you ought to go get a pedicure.

Take plenty of pictures to document your progress...

...even if all you did was hammer in one nail.

Your children and your children's children will thank you for it.

Everyone is going to be fascinated with the progress you are making.

Many hands make light work...

even if they aren't all helping.

It is essential to keep your work area tidy at all times.

If you haven't gotten the door knob installed yet, 

you can always use a bungee cord to keep the door shut.

Close-up shot of bungee cord keeping the door shut.

(you're welcome)

View of new door from the inside.

Don't feel tied in to the traditional.

This is our version of a skylight--

it lets in a view of the attic instead of the sky--sweet, huh!

My guard trees. Working well so far. Haven't had any intruders yet.

View of the mudroom entrance and doggie door, er, doggie hole.

Chillin' before he starts work on the interior...

                                                                             

Dead Fred

"Don't think you're going to shoot to wing him; shoot to kill."

That's what the shooting instructor said. Even as I cringed inwardly, I realized the wisdom of his words.

Our targets were set up--a line of human sihouettes.

If this was going to work for me, I had to play a little mind game. I thought of the scariest scenario that I had ever worried about:  me alone at home with several of my little ones and a big guy named Fred, brandishing a knife as he was breaking into my house.

I fumbled with trying to get the bullets into the magazine-I awkwardly wrapped my fingers around the gun's handle-I shuffled my feet, trying to get into a proper shooting stance-I hemmed and hawed and hesitated until I could put it off no longer. With trepidation, I squeezed the trigger. Well, that wasn't as scary as I thought it was going to be. Then I squeezed it a few more times.  Well! That wasn't so bad. It was actually rather exhilarating!

                                                   And Dread Fred became Dead Fred.

An Afternoon At The Range

(and I don't mean the kitchen range)


True confession:  I don't really like guns. I don't think shooting is very much fun.

But I believe strongly in our Second Amendment rights and I refuse to stand by quietly and let those rights be trampled. As an American I have the right to own a gun and to shoot a gun and to carry a gun. So I signed up to take a class to become a pistol packing Momma Bear. (yea for Oklahoma's open carry law!)  And that is how I found myself spending the afternoon at the gun range.

However, I don't think I will actually carry a gun around (although if it involves getting a new purse, I  might consider it!) (no, I am really not that shallow!) and I won't be spending Saturday afternoons at the gun-range or on a weekend hunting trip. Just doesn't sound fun to me.

But I have thought long and hard about this:  if someone were to physically threaten any of my loved ones--particularly any of my children--I wouldn't hesitate to defend them. Soon I will be able to legally defend them with a gun. I am only lacking the paperwork. And the passport picture.

There was one concept that stood out to me above all and it was that you need to be certain in your mind that you or your loved one is in danger of imminent bodily harm before you consider picking up that gun and once the gun is in your hand, you shoot to kill.

My mind balks at that...the thought of being responsible for killing someone is abhorrent. Then thoughts of Columbine High School, or the movie theater in Aurora, Colorado or Sandy Hook Elementary School flash through my mind and I think I could defend the defenseless.

Earnestly I pray that I will never be thrust into such a horrendous situation. But if I am, I feel like I am on my way to being prepared. Because I have decided I will be investing some time improving my aim at the gun range after all.