Doggie Update

Elizabeth feeds Tuttie Frutti's friend.

I took y'all's advice and called animal control ,which happened to be closed for County Fair Day.  I then called Harris County's animal control just to see what was protocol. They told me if the bite broke the skin and bled I've got to report it to the police, since animal control was unavailable. They were required to quarantine the animal for ten days before deeming it safe and returning to the owners.

I called and reported it, but while I was waiting for them to show up to file the report, I felt awful. I thought about how our kids would feel if Tutti Frutti was gone for that long. And I worried that the family would be angry and we'd find our car windows broken in the morning or something worse. You know how passionate some people can be about their pets.  I sent Paul down to their house to warn them what was to happen and assure them we didn't want them to lose their dog, but had to follow the guidelines given.  She apologized over and over and explained how she was going to make sure her dogs didn't get out any more.

The police showed up, took the report and drove over to their house.

All weekend I avoided going down the street in that direction.

This morning the animal patrol guy shows up at the door, wondering where the people live. Weird. I thought they took care of it.  I give him the address I gave the police and he takes off (animal catcher thing in-hand).

After school I pick up the kids and we get closer to their house. I wonder if anyone is looking out the window and how they might feel about seeing me since I turned them in. Right before we get to their house, out come the two dogs chasing and barking just like the good ol' days. Huh?

So how they dealt with it, I don't know.

I'm going to PetSmart and buying some animal mace.

Kujo

So I'm going on a run, trotting down the street when our  friendly neighborhood dogs do their thing and come out to bark at me.  Usually I'm walking, pushing Elizabeth in the stroller, but I wanted to get out and run since it's been awhile.  The loud dog, who I'm not afraid of, is chasing me and barking.  Nothing out of the ordinary.  But this time he gets too close, lunges at me from behind and chomps my calf.  It doesn't hurt that bad and it's only punctured the skin in one spot followed by a little tearing.  When I go to talk with the owner she apoligizes and says she didn't know the dogs were out. Then I tell her they're ALWAYS out, I can count on them being out.  She replies she'll try to keep them in the back but they get out.  How, I ask.  Through the front door.  So they come in the back door, through the house, out the front door, bark loudly at passers-by and she doesn't know?  Hmmm.  She is apologetic, though.  I tell her I'm just glad it wasn't my kid who was bit. 
She closes the door and the neighbor, who has seen it all, asks about rabies.  Back I go to her house to confirm the dog is up-to-date.  She's no longer willing to open up. 
Now it's swollen around the bite, but cleaned up.  Now what?

Portion Control

Aren't those little treats a delight? A YW in our ward made them...see how Elizabeth is appreciating the detail? Sonora's got talent and patience.

Two-years-olds are not color-blind. Elizabeth went up to a black boy at church and asked, "Where's your black mama?"

Friday's pack meeting was the Cubanapolis where each Scout makes a car to wear in a race. Isaac wanted to cover his with $. After he finished he stood back and looked at it. "Dang, that's awesome!" was his reaction. Not suprisingly, his car was given the "most expensive" award.

Every ward has One

(My sister Paula accompanies the fam while I man the visual.)

My dad sent us CDs with thousands of pictures he scanned in from his old slides. Here a little gem that reminds me of our ward's upcoming primary program this Sunday.

Several years ago after the program was over, a new lady in the ward was in the restroom the same time as me. She was still laughing about a certain boy's performance that had everyone's attention. "Did you SEE him," she began. Before she went on too far I had to come clean. "Just so you know, that was my kid."

I don't remember what he did that time, but last Christmas the primary sang "Away in a Manger. " At the end of the song when it says "asleep on the hay" there was an echo, russian style grunt-singing/shouting, "Hey, hey, hey!" I was fuming and mortified at the time, but now it seems comical.

I'll try to remember that this Sunday as there is a high probibility that we may have a repeat performance. I know every ward has one kid that gets the attention of the audience, but does it always have to be mine? 

On-shore Drilling

I did it! I survived a root canal! After gearing myself up for weeks, it's finally over! For someone who would rather push out a near-nine-pounder than have to smell her own tooth powder wafting through the air after it's drilled into, this is BIG.  And no laughing gas, my friends, the dentist talked me out of it.  Throughout the procedure I kept reminding myself to breathe and sang songs in my head and prayed for the dentist. Then I came home, took some Tylenol and made Paul hold me. All that positive self talk was exhausting and I was ready to crash. The doorbell rang and I found these offerings from my sympathetic friends. Made me feel so great that they thought of me, that I'm virtually healed! My energy's back and my nose is running from eating those fist-size flamin' hot Cheetos washed down with slush. You made all the difference, gals.  (And Leah loves the hat.)

In the words of Ann Campbell

You are the trip I did not take;

You are the pearls I cannot buy;

You are my blue Italian lake;

 

You are my piece of foreign sky.
 
 

Now if all this love that I'm feelin' for you could translate into even a bit of cleanin', I'd be in business.

Just Like Grandma

Leah Grace and Grandma Hogan

Last week we sat on the bench at church. Three of my four kids were packed around me like ants on a sugar cube. Their warm bodies pressed against mine, either on my lap or next to me, constantly in motion. Sometimes that bugs me and I crave space or want to savor a single body at a time. But this time it felt so good. Having them close, knowing that's where they chose to be, gave me a feeling of fulfillment. Leah grabbed my upper arm and massaged it back and forth from one hand to the other. "You're arms wiggle. They're almost like Grandma's." At one time I may have taken offense at that, but I took it as a compliment. Having ample upper arms isn't something one aspires to unless you equate it to maturing and mothering. More arms to comfort you, my Leah, and a softer place to rest your head. I hope she sees other things in me that are just like Grandma.