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Don't Let the Dog Out
2005-11-11 - 10:08 a.m. Still cleaning my house in anticipation of Gipsy's visit. she called last night and was too sick to make the drive from TX yesterday, so I am hoping she will come today. Her cancer is back in full force, all over her colon and now her mammogram came back bad. She is losing her battle and I don't even want to think about it. It's just too painful to contemplate. I don't want her to die; she's one of my oldest friends here in LA. It was terrible missing her when she was mad at me last year. I don't even want to think about never seeing her again at all. Why do all the good folks have to die? Why couldn't it have been Queenie instead of Gipsy? I'm not saying that I want Queenie dead, because I don't. But if I had to choose . . . no contest. Off with her head, the Queen is dead. But Gipsy had a really hard life and I wish she could have time for some good times before the final curtain call. But I can't dwell on all of that today. It's too depressing. Haven't heard from Jared yet today, which is odd, because he calls me all the time. But he's a veteran, and today is Veteran's Day and he's got to be in some parade the VA is putting on and he's probably busy. BTW, happy Veteran's Day to all y'all veterans out there. Gipsy just called and hasn't left Houston yet, so it will be this evening before she comes. Gives me more time to clean this place up. It's pretty cluttered, and I still got cans of paint and stain sitting on a tarp in the dining room. My house is a work in progress. Yesterday I took a nap and while I was sleeping, mi hija left her door open and my basset hound wandered out with Tony the Dog. She didn't notice and took the truck over to my mom's to help them with dinner, etc. I woke up and went to feed the dogs outside and noticed that I no longer had a basset hound. At that point, she'd been outside for hours. She could have been anywhere. I freaked out and called my mom's and told my daughter to come right home and help me search for her. Bassets, being scent hounds, will follow a scent trail for miles and miles, and then have no clue how to get back home. I was running up and down the street calling for both her and Tony the Dog. I saw some neighbors, and they had spotted her about 30 minutes before and said that she headed back toward the subdivision instead of toward the road. They confirmed that she was with Tony the Dog still, which was a blessing, because although we jokingly call him Tony Short Bus because he's on the dumb side, he does have some street smarts and has avoided getting hit over the years. Finally my daughter got there with the truck, and we rode around until we finally spotted the two of them trotting along. She was fine, although she'd lost her collar and had burrs stuck to her ears. I started crying once I knew that she was safe. I really, really love my basset hound. Mi hija was contrite. I know I made her feel bad, because I said, "I only have 2 big house rules: Don't Let the Basset Hound Out and Don't Smoke In The House. Why is it so hard to follow them?" To her credit, she has never (to my knowledge) smoked cigarettes in the house. But if she had to break a rule, I'd prefer it be that instead of letting the dog out. But all's well that ends well, as they say. Well, time for more cleaning. �
still here - 2009-12-18
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