grace grits and gardening

ramblings from an arkansas farm girl

Every Dog Needs a Girl

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Lucy went to the doctor yesterday morning for her annual doggie checkup. Upon arrival, she appointed herself greeter and welcomed each dog that came inside the waiting room, until it was her time to go back. She was friendly and in charge, tugging as far as her leash would allow, visiting with two pomeranians and a poodle, as well as each human escort. 


As we waited our turn, a lady walked up to the checkout counter opposite the waiting room. Her distress was evident as she sobbed while waiting for her bill. The mood in the waiting room immediately changed as everyone became sympathetic, remembering the raw pain of losing a beloved pet. We all sat there with that awful lump in our throats – I think even the dogs knew the atmosphere had changed. By the time she left, nearly everyone in the waiting room was teary. I thought about that lady later in the day and remembered all too well being on that awful side of the counter.

Kelsey and Belle

Kelsey was not quite 4 when she carefully picked Belle up out of a big box at the SPCA where she had been left. She was a tiny black ball of fluff – and she looked scared. She was part of our family for many years and died a few weeks before Kelsey left for college. It was devastating. The pain absolutely knocked us to our knees.


Pets bring such unhindered joy to our lives. They have no idea it’s a bad thing to toilet paper the entire downstairs, but fully understand when we are sick. Taking hold of our hearts, they wiggle their way into the family pretty quickly. Annabelle was absolutely gleeful to see us when we returned from Lucy’s doctor appointment – I thought her tail might shake right off. It was her first experience home alone and in dog time, we had been gone forever. 

Lucy and Lucy
Last night our friend Lynn – who lives a few houses over – called to tell us that her Schnauzer – also named Lucy – had been hit by a car the day before. We adopted our Lucy’s almost at the same time. They were the same color. They were friends. My heart breaks for their loss. Losing a pet is the gut wrenching downside of loving a pet.
talya

Musical Pairings:

Cat Stevens, “I Love My Dog”
Elvis Presley, “Old Shep”

Welcome to Jurassic Park.

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This morning I found a tampon on the stairs. UNUSED, thank God! But still, a tampon on the stairs! It was open and lying midway up like a dead albino mouse, with the ‘tail’ dangling off the step. I have lost all control. The schnauzers are running the zoo.  

Thirteen weeks and six days ago, I had a cleaning lady. I was gainfully employed at the bank dressed everyday in my favorite peep toe heels, pencil skirt and non-sports-team-related blouses. This allowed me a part-time house elf. Her name was Debbie. During these peep toe years, Debbie came twice a month and cleaned the house from top to bottom, whether needed or not.

It was needed.

She cleaned toilets and made the house sparkle. Debbie Day made the entire work day better. No matter how many irate customers I encountered or how much second hand smoke I inhaled during the day, being greeted by fabulous CLEAN in the evening made everything worthwhile. Clean, buffed floors and lemony furniture. A fresh, peaceful house that smelled of comet mixed with bleach. Never mind that it was an environmental chemical site. Even our old stained sink looked brand spanking new after Debbie Day.

Now I am trying to perform these household duties with two schnauzers under my laceless worn-out converse sneakers. And evidently not very well.

Annabelle. The Schnauzers are running the zoo…
I never much liked this plant
anyway.

Annabelle is still a puppy with recessive billy goat genes. Last Christmas (her first), she destroyed two vintage Shiny Brite ornaments while I frosted cupcakes. The ornaments, displayed in a bowl on the coffee table to keep them safe, were oh too shiny and sparkly with flecks of silver glitter. Near Annabelle’s eye level—they were a schnauzer siren song.  She left behind tiny shards of glass scattered in front of the fireplace, along with the little rusty metal cap and hook that, up until that point, had survived sixty-plus years…. Annabelle does her best work in front of that warm fireplace. 

A few weeks later, as I stored away my Christmas decorations, I noticed there was not a single trace of the decorative moss that had lain all around my manger scene, cradling baby Jesus. Did the camels and donkeys eat it? Or, the Christmas Schnauzer? My nativity was displayed on the small chest beside the loveseat, waaaaay on the far side of the room next to the window. A few days later, I discovered one of the wisemen under the buffet. (By process of elimination, I decided he was the myrrh-carrying wiseman.) 
So now with the tampon incident, Annabelle can open cabinets?

She has further evolved from goat to velociraptor?

Does she have a sickle-shaped claw hidden somewhere in that curly matted coat, allowing her to open the bathroom cabinet and snag a Tampax?

Of course with no squeaker inside, she tired of it quickly, and abandoned it on the stairs. It was too plain for her…  It laid there, beneath my wall of tastefully displayed black and white family photographs. Right below Nana’s portrait. WhatWouldNanaDo?

Nana would laugh, but in that moment I was horrified. A new high low. Was there nothing sacred? 

Annabelle
Yes? You called for me?
In addition to munching family heirlooms, someone occasionally has accidents in the guest bedroom at the top of the stairs. I never catch anyone in the act, but when I discover the puddle, grumble and grab the cleaning supplies, both dogs stare at John like he is responsible. They look completely shocked. They are conniving. I drag out my new best friend – the self wringing twisty mop – to disinfect and eliminate the awful pee smell.  Because our house is ancient and the floors are unlevel, the pee flows freely from one end of the room to the other, pooling underneath the bed, completely out of reach. This is not your regular, standing on your feet, normal-people mopping. This is on-your-knees, stuck-under-the-bed, pulling-a-hamstring, crazy-people mopping. With Annabelle licking my face. 
If I’m not mistaken, by now shouldn’t we be living high above the city in a uber-cool sky pad apartment with push-button, space age conveniences? Hanna-Barbera promised as much on Saturday mornings forty years ago. My housekeeping should be seen to by Rosey. And, I’m pretty sure Astro never ate a tampon. Where is my futuristic utopia? The closest thing I have to a robot maid is Siri who lives in my smartphone and sometimes randomly speaks to me from deep inside my purse at the grocery store.

Siri is no Rosey.

While John is in Atlanta this week creating sprockets, I have four whole days to get this house in shape. But, I don’t want to start too soon as it will be a completely wasted effort and back to zoo-like conditions by Wednesday. Of course I could summon Siri to dial up Debbie. Maybe she could secretively squeeze us in. I’m sure she misses us. How could she not?
talya

Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

Musical Pairing:

Baha Men, Who Let The Dogs Out?




Musical Pairings:
Katy Perry, “I Kissed a Girl”
Baha Men, “Who Let the Dogs Out”

Driving Miss Lucy. And Miss Annabelle….

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I had just returned from my hair appointment, which is a Happy Day in my book. But because of my hair appointment, I was running late for a very important date. Lucy and Annabelle were booked for a week at the pet lodge, and I had exactly one hour to walk, feed and drive them across the city in time for small dog group play time this afternoon. They needed to check in today, as I was leaving at the crack of dawn tomorrow morning with my mother. We were road tripping back home to Arkansas.

Yes my dogs were a wee bit spoiled, but they were so darn cute was it any wonder? And they couldn’t stay just anywhere. They stayed in the French Quarter suite at the pet lodge which was roomy and bright and airy. Seriously, if there was a House Hunters for Dogs on HGTV, this would be the winning selection every time. Although the location is geographically undesirable, we can’t possibly book them into a new place. They like it at the pet lodge. They know the humans there. They get excited when we drive up. Of course they are always excited…

They knew something was up when I started to pack their blankets and a few favorite toys. I strapped Lucy into her booster seat in the back seat of the car. Yes, she has a booster seat. It allows her to look out the window at people, cars, dogs, etc. I was a bit worried about handling them both at the same time in the car and briefly considered crating Annabelle for the drive. But I dismissed this idea deciding with Lucy in her booster seat, Annabelle would be perfectly fine up front with me in my lap.
Lucy checking out the view!
One block from the house, Lucy had nearly hung herself. Something was faulty with the strap as the booster seat had practically collapsed leaving Lucy dangling and balancing on her back feet. I quickly pulled to the curb and unhooked her with one hand while holding Annabelle with the other. Lucy was glaring at me, while Annabelle licked my face. As I reached for Lucy, I almost pull a piece of fat in my back but luckily yoga has helped with my overall flexibility. Yoga comes in handy daily. This is the moment I should have turned the car around, retrieved both dog crates, and started again…but I didn’t.
Now both pups were balanced in my lap, draped across my left arm, looking out the window. Please do not let me pass a cop, I thought. I was certain I would be pulled over just to confirm there was in fact a human in the car, as the dogs were almost blocking my view and looked as if they were driving.
Road work ahead. There was a lane closed near Baylor Hospital. I maneuvered through the orange cones with one functioning arm and one schnauzer arm. I hit nearly every red light which was actually a good thing.  I used these red light opportunities to shift the dogs and message my numb arm. I drove through downtown Dallas.    
I made it to the other side of downtown and took a deep breath. I was almost forced to merge onto the Dallas North Tollway which would not have been a good thing. Fortunately I was able to veer into the correct lane to avoid a side trip to North Dallas. What was that noise?!? The back window was suddenly open.  It took me a second to process this. Annabelle had stepped on the button and opened the window.  The wind was blowing in and the traffic noise was loud as cars whizzed by us. I rolled up the window at the next light and readjusted. My knuckles were white, and I think I was grinding my teeth.  Not too much further. I was comforted by the fact that I passed by no fewer than 5 hospitals on my journey to the pet lodge. I knew if I was somehow ejected through the moonroof, I would be only seconds away from a world class emergency room.  The dogs might not fare so well.
Up ahead was a giant flashing road closure/detour sign. OMG. I slowed to assess the situation. Luckily the road was not closed. Instead, the lanes merged from four to one. Why are people so rude and impatient about this? No one wanted to let the schnauzers merge, like this was really going to significantly slow them down on their way to Taco Bell. How often does one see dogs commandeering a vehicle?  Obviously these dogs had somewhere to go! Suddenly, while attempting to cue up into this one lane without causing road rage, the passenger window opened. My nerves were totally shot. Was there danger of Annabelle opening the car door too?  I left the window down, as I could not possibly free my paralyzed limb to address this.  
Finally I saw the pet lodge up ahead! My final maneuver was a U-turn across three lanes to get into the parking lot. As I braced myself I yelled, “Hang on, hang on, hang on!” Lucy and Annabelle shifted in my lap, scratching my legs through my jeans. By the grace of God, we successfully turned into the parking lot with the air whooshing through the back window. The dogs were so thrilled to see the lady at the front desk. In reality, they were probably relieved to be free from their crazed mother who was ready for a cocktail.
talya

Musical Pairings:
Talking Heads, “Wild Wild Life”

Food. Farm. Garden. Life.

THANKS FOR READING!