There's a Stranger In My House

On my husband’s one day off, leave it to me to take in a stray.

A stray, you say?  What, Janie, more engineering interns?

Nope.

A stray chocolate lab.  With no collar or tags.  Well kept, so I figured he belonged in the neighborhood.  Who looked grown, but who knew he was still but a pup?  Full of piss (literally) and vinegar, stout as a mule, and wanting to mount anything that moves.  Zack the Wonderdog, who, by the way told me in no uncertain terms to “rid the house of this intruder”, and Zanna the Wonderdog.  Neither of whom care to be mounted.  So we’ve had a few dog spats this afternoon, one of which was (gasp!) over me.  Zack wants this pup nowhere near his “momma”.

My dogs are not happy.

Neither is ThatManILove.

And said chocolate lab is marking everything outside.  So far, nothing inside, but I’m watching him like a hawk.

And, you know, he’s smart.  Very smart.  But he has that puppy brain right now.  The one that does something, gets chastised, stops, sit downs, pouts, and then...does it again.  And again.  Which is funny, but also sort of frustrating - especially when he’s not your dog!

So, yeah, I’m wondering, “Why did I open that door?”  And I’m not even going to write what ThatManILove is thinking...

But...he went with me and let me:

1. Go buy a crate
2. Buy flea/tick treatment
3. A collar
4. A new food bowl

 All of this was somewhat preventative, in case we have to foster this dog for  couple of days before we find his owner, but still, it’s pretty giving of TMIL.

We found out this dog can escape our outdoor professionally built kennel (and our dogs didn’t follow his lead, yeah!) and that he’s never been crated.  But he’s a quick learner.  He’s in his crate tonight, went straight to sleep, and Monday morning, we’ll take him to the vet and see if he’s microchipped.  I've posted him on Facebook and CraigsList and HomeAgain.  Hopefully, his peeps will show up and take his little rambunctious wagging butt home.

It’s never boring around here!

Anybody need a chocolate lab?

Toga! Toga! Toga!

If you follow me on Facebook, you will at least know part of this story.  The part where on November the 13th, or so, we were invited to our first Toga party to honor one of our friends for her 50th birthday party.  It was a surprise party.

I have never been invited to a toga party.  Nor had ThatManILove.  We vacillated about going, but in the end, our love for the honoree won out, and we cowboyed up and decided to take the plunge, as it were.

We live in West Texas, so I figured EVERYBODY would do a cowboy toga.  I wanted to be different.  Saturday morning of the party, I had a brain wave - possibly my first original thought.  We decided to go gothic Toga.  I researched on the web, and as far as I can tell, no one had ever done that, or at least posted pix on it.  

I thought it was a great idea!   We were gonna go goth toga!!  Oh, yes, we were!!  Once convinced (I am a salesperson after all!), ThatManILove let me have my way with him.  I painted his nails black.  Put eyeliner and black lipstick on him.  Died his hair with temporary hair color....black all over, except for red sideburns and at his temples.  He looked quite distinguished.  Earlier in the day, he acquiesced to go shop at Hot Topic to get all the studded bracelets, hair dye, collars, funky earrings, etc.  while I went and got the black fabric, crowns, fake tattoos. The “etc.” ThatManILove picked up at Hot Topic even included a dog chain leash.  (I said, "Honey.  A Leash?  Ummmm...there might be a fine line between gothic and S&M, and you may have crossed it with that leash/collar deal - but we were the hit of the party!)  He even spray-painted a pair of his steel toe boots black so as to further look the part.  He did ALL of this on one condition  - that he would dress up anyway I wanted if I would promise that I would have him back to regular status by Monday, when he had a 5 day frac job out in the field. And I did promise, and deliver.  Well, I thought I did, anyway.

Here are pictures.  Mind you, these were taken at the end of our night, as we were leaving.  Which was imperative because my careful design of my husband's toga FAILED.  Miserably. At first, I wasn't worried, because I thought the pants he had on underneath were ski pants.  He quickly informed me they were the silk underwear you wear UNDER ski pants, and thus were somewhat...revealing.  We gathered our gear to leave post-haste.  Here, he is holding what is left of his toga.  But he's cute, isn't he?

But now, here’s the part two of this story.

It’s been six weeks since that Toga party.  Six weeks, people.  Last Friday, we drove from Dallas to Ardmore to see Elder Son and meet all his cowboy horse trainer compadres.  We decide to meet at a local eatery called Two Frogs.  (It was good, too!)  It was a grey, dreary kind of day, misting a little bit.  We all drive up at the same time, and Elder Son is walking in with us, after we all get the requisite hugs.  

Elder Son:  “Dude.  What’s up with your hair?”  The cowboys are walking up to meet us in the parking lot about now.

TMIL:  “What do you mean?  I just got it cut.”

Elder Son:  “No, I mean, why is your hair pink?”

TMIL:  “My hair is not pink!”

Elder Son:  “Yeah?  Looked in the mirror lately?”

I looked over at ThatManILove, and about busted a gut laughing.  I couldn’t stand up.  I had a hard time meeting the people we were there to meet, because I couldn’t see for the tears running down my face.

People, I live with this man!  And granted, he’s been out in the field a bunch, and home rarely, I didn’t see that his sideburns still carried a tint (though very becoming) of pink...left over from the “temporary” red hair color.  Six weeks later.  And our hairdresser didn’t even say a word about it.  

Six. Weeks. Later.

I kid you not.

And we’re meeting all these rough and tough cowboys, one of them a world-renown horse trainer, for the very first time.  So much for good first impressions.

I absolutely could not quit laughing.  Elder Son was just shaking his head.  So, of course, I had to confess that we went to a (1) toga party, as (2) gothic emo peeps, complete with (3) black nail polish, goth makeup, studded bracelets and dog collars, AND show pictures. 

The first thing they all hooked on?  The dog chain hooked to ThatManILove’s studded collar. 

Well, it could have been worse.  At least they didn’t call him sweet cheeks or something like that.

These rough and tough cowboys could have been like the lady at the Starbucks window the Sunday morning following the toga party.  ThatManILove, every Sunday, goes and gets us burritos, a Sunday paper, and Starbucks.  And when he handed his money through the drive-through window, our  sweet barista, who knows us by name, said one thing when she saw his black-painted fingernails.

“What the hell?”

He was so embarrassed that we went straight to the nail salon and got all that stuff taken off pronto.

It’s never boring around here.  


(PS - Jack, don't you even think about making him some kind of freaking bit/bridle.  This was a one-time gig.  Savvy, senor?)

Yeah, baby, it's all still there.  Now let's get the hell outa Dodge.  Vamanos por las casa, senor!

For Love of Home = aka Love You, Jackie!

It’s been a pretty fun week.

We’ve spent the better part of the last two weeks in the DFW area. Though I was recovering from a medical procedure, we still were able to visit with many of our friends from the DFW area, a little at a time.  Great stuff. Thursday evening, when we headed up to Oklahoma to see Elder Son.  We booked a hotel room in that small town, drove there (I slept, I think) and promptly went to bed.

We slept late the next morning, then met Elder Son and his friends for lunch.  They were a hoot, and we can’t wait to spend more time with them.  We're thankful for the time our son is spending with them.  After lunch, we went to the facility where they work/train horses, and enjoyed even more time.

Around 5 p.m., Steve and I left to head west to another couple’s house, where we stayed for the remainder of the weekend.  We had a great time there - we figured out it had been almost 10 years since we had visited their house.  Time does fly! We played games with their family, ate great food, and hung out. Fun stuff!

We headed back to Midland today, and I was so excited to be heading home.  It feels like we’ve been gone forever, but of course, that’s not the truth.

We stopped at Munday, Texas, to visit a fellow blogger, Jackie from  For Love of Home.  She had no idea we were coming.  We had never met, up until today, so we were taking a huge chance that she might even be home. 

We pulled up in front of her house, and her husband was leaving.  He pulled up behind us, and I walked up to his window and explained what I wanted to do.  He parked, got out of his vehicle with a smile, and walked Steve and I up to the door.

I rang the doorbell, and Jackie answered, with this slightly puzzled look on her face.  

I said, “Yes, ma’am.  I was wondering - might I use your bathroom?”

She said, “Well, ummm...”  She looked past me, to my husband, and to hers, and looked back at me.

I said, “No really, my name is Janie.  And I was wondering if I might borrow your bathroom?”

We all cracked up, once she realized I was no stranger, that I was her long-time blogging buddy.

We had a great visit, and Steve and I fell in love with the both of them.    I believe Jackie  eventually recovered from her initial shock, because we all laughed a lot. We stayed for a while (hopefully not too long!), then headed on home. It was a very good day.

Red sequined shoes.  Click. Click. Click of the heels. 

And I am home, with ThatManILove.  Unpacked.  And in bed. Full of smiles from the last two weeks.  And I got to hang out with Elder Son, twice, and Younger Son, once.  You can't go wrong there, people. 

Sweet, mi vida loca.  Sweet.