Did you hear the one about...

So it's finally Spring Break. My petsitter fell through so I wasn't able to go to Baton Rouge to see my new nephew. My friend Melanie was going out of town and needed someone to check on her new puppy for a few days while she was gone. I figured since I couldn't go to Baton Rouge I might as well do a sister a favor, right? All I had to do was go over on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday and check on the puppy, feed her, check her water and play with her a little. She's an outside dog and was in the backyard. I went over on Sunday, did my thing, no problem. On Monday, I was supposed to meet Missy in about an hour. I told her where I was going and that I'd meet up with her after. My cell phone was dead so I left it charging at home thinking, "I'll only be gone a few minutes and I can get it before I meet Missy." I headed over to Melanie's and Gabby was glad to see me. Did I mention that she's a very active Jack Russell terrier? Anyway, I fed her, built a lean-to over her water since it was supposed to rain that night, played with her a bit and then decided to leave. Only problem was, I was locked inside the backyard. The back door leading into the house had locked behind me when I went outside. And I didn't have a key to it. And all the windows were locked. And the gates both had padlocks on them. And I didn't have the key to them either. And they have an 8 foot tall wooden privacy fence. And I'm 5'4''. And I have a badly sprained ankle. And I don't have my cell phone. Getting the picture?

I waver between disbelief, tears, hilarity and the realization that I am trapped in the backyard. I searched the shed (which I did have a key to) but no use...no savior key. I eyed the trampoline for only a moment before ruling out the jumping "Help" jumping "Help" method. I concentrated on the mantra "Missy knows where I am. Eventually she will come looking for me." Half an hour passes by. By now, I have spotted a ladder. I dragged it to the corner of the fence and climbed up. I started scanning for anyone whose attention I could get. No one. A car drives by and I started waving my hands yelling "Helllloooooo!" in my best Jerry Seinfeld bellybutton voice. No response. Several cars go by without any response to the crazy lady 8 feet up in the air. Another half hour passes by. "Missy knows where I am. Eventually she will come looking for me." At last a kindergarten-aged girl comes out across the street. "GO-GET-YOUR-MOMMY!" She just stares at me. No response. Several repetitions of it, but no response. Maybe she doesn't speak English? OK, I'm flexible. "Por favor, necesito ayuda. Diga tu mama." No difference. Her little brother, PreK-aged, comes out. "Hey! I know you. You go to my school!" GREAT. Anyway, HE goes and gets mom. I try to explain what happened without sounding like a total idiot, but I think I failed. I asked her to call the police non-emergency number because I figured they might have a bolt cutter and it would be easy to replace the padlock. Long story (I know, I know) but the dispatcher tells me on the mom's cell phone that "we don't do that. Do you want me to just call Lock Doc?" I reexplain that that wouldn't really help because I am TRAPPED in the backyard. After a pause, she said, "OK, hon, we'll get someone out there to help you."

(By the way, my ankle is now throbbing as I've been on the ladder quite a while. And it's getting bigger. And bigger. And more purple. Even Gabby is bored with me now and has given up to go and chew on some sticks.)

In a few minutes, what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a VERY LARGE ladder fire truck coming down Travis Street. I start waving my hands and can see the 3 firemen on board already laughing. Not a good sign.

They tried to stifle their laughter long enough to ask what happened. They said, "Now don't you worry, M'am. We'll get you out." (Was that a giggle at the end?) They are standing around, eyeing all the different ladders on the truck, scratching their chins. You know, I always thought if I had to be carried, lifted, removed by a fireman, I'd probably be unconscious and I wouldn't have to be aware of the total humiliation. Now I'm confronted with my worst nightmare. Quickly I holler, "The front door is open, but the storm door latch is locked. If you could get in there, you could just walk through the house and open the back door." One of them heads around front. In a few seconds he has joined me in the back yard. I yelled to the other firemen "Never mind. He made it through." They respond with "Man! We were going to get the cherry picker out and lift you over the fence in the bucket!" (snicker, snicker)

I left Melanie's after locking up, with me on the proper side of the lock this time. I drove up to Missy's and before I'm even out of the car, she opened the door and said, "My, my. Haven't we had an exciting morning?" HOW DID SHE ALREADY KNOW? WAS I ON THE LOCAL NOON NEWS? OH MY GOODNESS! No, in fact my mantra was correct and Missy DID come looking for me. As she pulled around the corner she spotted what? Oh yes, the GIANT fire truck! She immediately thought that I had fallen and finished my ankle off. She rolled down her window and said, "That's my friend's car. She's petsitting. Is she okay?" They laughed and told her I got locked out, everything's okay.

Moral of the story: Always have your cell phone with you. And try not to make too much of an idiot of yourself. And count on your friends to give you hell for a long, long time. And never underestimate the job that our firefighters do each and every day.

Picture it, Sicily...

...as Sophia used to say on The Golden Girls.

More strange but true adventures in the Vaught household! Fasten your seatbelts for this one.

For those of you who don't know, I fell on the ice while walking home on March 7 during the last snowstorm. (I was walking home instead of driving because I thought it would be safer since everyone was getting stuck trying to get out of our parking lot. I only live 3 houses down, right??) Anyway, chalk up a high ankle sprain that will take anywhere from 6 weeks to 4 months to heal. Very painful, very bruised, VERY LARGE BUTT-PRINT in the snow where I landed in from of all my neighbors. I just kept squeaking "I'm okay" over and over, but yet remained sitting in the middle of the street as they tried to convince me that I really needed to get up. Why can we not admit when we are hurt? Why put on the brave front? Flashbacks to childhood of crying in front of everyone, I guess. Anyway, my neighbor's grandson-in-law braced himself and very bravely said, "Pull on me as hard as you need. I can take it." Lovely. Anyway, he walked me to the door and by the time I was inside I was already quite swollen and purple. My neighbor called and offered to take me to the ER, but you couldn't have paid me to get back out in that mess again to wait with all the other klutzes in Sherman. Luckily we had a snow day the next day so I got a 3 day weekend to keep in iced and elevated and on NSAIDS. (I actually learned a new term: PRINCE. It's an acronym for what to do for a sprained ankle. P-pressure R-rest I-ice N-NSAIDs (Aleve, Ibuprofen) C-compression E-elevation) I borrowed Mom's cane and used it all week the following week at school.

Giant butt print in the snow leads to....

Ankle, what ankle? It only got worse from here!

New Baby Girl

We have a new baby in the family, for those of you who haven't heard. Her name is Jolie Lenoir and she is a treasure. I actually brought her home on August 29. She got to know Bailey and he got to know her, which is a comfort to me. Here's how it happened: Mom called me at school (the third day of school) and said that a lady she knew through the vet was having to get rid of all of her dogs. Apparently she was a breeder and a collector. She was distraught because her husband had given her an ultimatum: get rid of the dogs by 1:00 that day, or he would take them to a "kill" shelter. She got in touch with Mom and asked if she or anyone she knew would be interested. She had 3 pekingeses (a boy and 2 girls). I learned from Presley and Desi that it wasn't a good idea to bring in another male and I figured I didn't need any more puppies anyway. I asked around at school and no one seemed interested. I kept thinking about the little girls. One of them had already been spayed. (You see it coming already, don't you?) Believe it or not, I didn't. I felt worried and wanted to be sure that the puppies got placed in a good home. My nanny was also calling friends to see if she could help. About an hour later, I called Mom back and said, "You know, I was thinking.....I could take the little spayed girl....." waiting for an immediate "Are you crazy???" but instead I got "Yes, I was thinking you should." So I called the lady, and told her about myself (and yes, she STILL gave her to me!). Her "birth" name was Shylee, which I wasn't crazy about and I worried that it might remind her of her old family. Mom said she would pick her up before 1 and just keep her at her house until I could get out of school for the day. That was one of the longest afternoons ever! Nanny went with Mom and picked her up at the vet's. The lady was too upset and so she had just dropped her off there. (We found out later that the lady had given away 25 dogs the day before and several more that day, too.) Mom and Nanny called me on the phone when they got back to Mom's house and were raving about how sweet and beautiful and SHY she was. I got to Mom's house and walked in quietly and softly and gently petted her. She let me pick her up and then she curled up on my chest and went to sleep. She knew she was home. Here's her first picture:

She has been a perfect angel and a balm to my loss of Bailey. Having a little one around and getting to know her is a great help to sorrow. She now thinks I am hers and hers alone. The other babies are doing well. In fact, Gracie took Bailey's loss the hardest (she adored him) and she was depressed, too. Gracie now thinks Jolie is her baby and I catch her licking all over Jolie's face and grooming her. Very sweet! She seems to be afraid of men and doesn't like loud voices either. She begins to shake and cling to me, even if the men's voices are coming from the TV. Makes you wonder why, doesn't it?

I went to Baton Rouge for my birthday a couple of weeks ago and left the babies in the care of our great friend Aunt Wanda. The next post will be all about what happened next!

My Heartbreak

Bailey Boy

March 30, 1991-September 25, 2007

For those of you who haven't yet heard, I lost Bailey yesterday. He was 16 and a half years old and a wonderful boy. He became ill early yesterday morning and by the time we got to the vet, his little veins had already collapsed. Our vet was surprised he was conscious. I kept my promise to Bailey that I would not let him suffer and held him while he was given a shot to relax him so he would fall asleep. I held him in my arms and rocked him and sang his favorite lullaby to him (Baby Beluga) and we locked eyes until he fell asleep. His sweet snoring assured me that he was in no pain. I then held him while he was given the final shot. He went very quickly and peacefully. I kissed all his precious places...his lips, his ears, his eyes, his tummy, his paws and even nibbled on his "chicken leg" as he always liked; I buried my face in his tummy and inhaled the sweet scent of him for the last time. I felt privileged to be with him and grateful for having been his mommy.

Now my grief and tears are only for myself because I know he is in a better place...a place without arthritis or pancreatitis or ear infections; one where he can hear and see and run and play again. The puppies miss him, but I think they understand. Before Mom came to get us to take us to the vet, he sat on the living room floor and all the puppies came and sat in a perfect circle surrounding him. I think they were saying goodbye.

I will close with a poem that describes how I feel right now. I'm sure that it will get easier, but right now I don't quite believe it.

Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He is Dead.
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the woods;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.
-- W.H. Auden

To Everything There is a Season

~Psalms 3:1


Most of you know about the latest goings-on here in Sherman. For those of you that don't, I'll give a quick update...

Presley attacked Desi again a week ago Saturday. This time, he got his eye and tore through a couple of layers of Desi's cornea. He also punctured the tissue above his eye and behind his ear. I rushed Desi to the emergency vet and almost his entire eye was lacerated across, as well as down through the cornea. We had a long couple of nights of antibiotic drops every 2 hours and pain medicine, and Presley locked up in another room. By Monday, Presley was having a mini-breakdown and had stopped eating and sleeping. I took him to the vet and decided (on the vet's advice) to board him there while we tried to find him a new home. It seems that the Alpha male in Presley couldn't handle another male in the house. Had I known this would be the case, I would never have added a new male puppy. Apparently, Presley viewed any attention that I gave Desi as a promotion to Desi's position in the pack and a challenge to Presley's alpha status. Needless to say, I cried for several days, along with Nanny and Mom. We love Presley, but he can't be here with Desi any more. On Thursday, Nanny and Unkie decided to take Presley home with them. They have his 2 littermates, which are both female. Keep your fingers crossed, but so far it's going well. He's eating, playing and sleeping peacefully. I have not gone over to see him because we want him to get settled there first. I miss him terribly and am so grateful that Nanny and Unkie love him as much as I do and are willing to try it there. Life here at home has changed. Everyone seems to have breathed a sigh of relief. We can leave food down now and play in peace without anyone getting upset or jumped upon. Bailey has come back to life again and is playing with the other puppies. He and Desi had a tug-o-war with a toy a few days ago! He now spends all of his time with us in the living room, instead of hiding out in the bedroom. I have begun training Sophie, Desi and Gracie on the simple command of "sit." Desi and Gracie about have it down, but Sophie is insulted by it...typical pekingese!

Anyway, it was a very hard decision, but I think it's for the best. Keep Presley in your prayers for continued success at Nanny's and Unkie's house.

Fun at Unkie's House

Today we went to Unkie's house while Mommy stayed home and waited for the AC repairman. It just got too hot for us. After the repairman left, Mommy came over and joined us for some fun in Unkie's backyard. If you listen, you can hear our sweet Nanny laughing in the background. Enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y7eBXoDR77o

23 years ago today

May 23, 1984

I graduated from high school.

On one hand it seems as if it were yesterday

with all my hopes and dreams ahead of me

in the bright blue brilliant

unknown.

And on the other it seems as if

it were another lifetime

with loss and love

and change

and

no

control.

My life today is

not what I expected,

but full of unexpected

gifts as well.

Pay attention to each

moment.

Even the smallest

most insignificant one

might end up being

one of great

importance

someday.

Food for Thought

"When we cast our bread
upon the waters,
we can presume
that someone downstream
whose face we may never see,
will benefit
from our action,
even as we enjoy
the gifts sent to us
from a donor
upstream."
-Maya Angelou