Bunnicide: A Tale of Murder and Mayhem

August 27, 2009 – 1:35 pm

Kaia and I were enjoying a nice, long walk last night. We have a ton of bunnies in our neighborhood, and we both discovered that she loves chasing after them. Fortunately, she’s on a leash and can’t actually catch them. And yes, I call them bunnies, not rabbits. Deal with it. Or you’ll be next. (That’s called foreshadowing.)

We made our way to a cul-de-sac, and she was happily sniffing every inch of grass, when I looked down and saw a teeny-tiny baby bunny sitting next to a tree. Knowing Kaia could likely catch this one, I tried to steer her away, but she quickly spied the little fluffball and lunged. Thankfully, the baby was much faster than Kaia, and it leaped to a safer location.

When I looked down at the ground by the tree, I noticed what looked like a bunny nest. I thought, “Crap! That baby needs to be back in the nest where it’s safe!” So, like a complete IDIOT, I felt around the area to see if there was a hole. At which point ANOTHER bunny came bounding out and hopped into the bushes.

Kaia was going a bit crazy at this point, so I tied her to the nearest mailbox. I just had to find the babies and get them back to the nest! I scanned the ground, quickly found one and gently put her back in the safety of the hole. I searched all around for the other one, but couldn’t find it.

I didn’t want to just leave the poor little bunny to fend for itself, but I also didn’t want to keep searching for him on someone else’s property. So, I decided I’d see if anyone was home, and if so I’d explain what had happened, and show them where the hole was. That way if they found the baby bunny they could put it back.

I tentatively rang the doorbell, and a man opened the door and stepped out onto the porch. He was quite rough looking. A stocky man, with a big beer belly and a couple of days’ growth on his bloated red face, he smelled of alcohol and cigarettes. He wore a dirty t-shirt, worn-out jeans and large steel-toed boots. I immediately regretted my decision.

He gruffly asked me what I wanted, and I quickly explained the situation, fully expecting him to just shut the door and tell me to leave. To my surprise, however, he asked me to show him where the hole was. I felt bad for making such a snap judgement about him. He really did care!

We walked over to the tree, and I pointed to the nest. He reached down and put his hand inside the hole.

“No!” I said. “The baby will escape again!”

Ignoring me, he reached in and pulled out the tiny bunny, threw him to the ground and STOMPED on him!

“God-damned rabbits are always in my yard, chewing up my garden!” he said with a smug, menacing snarl. Blinded by tears and fueled by rage, I reached out and smacked him in the chest.

He looked at me, laughing, I’m sure wondering what this little blonde thought she was going to accomplish with a mere slap to the chest. But slowly, his eyes widened in grim understanding.

“The five-point-palm-exploding-heart technique? How did you learn that?”

“I watched Kill Bill 47 times, motherfucker.”

He turned around toward his house, took five steps, and collapsed in a dead heap.

I untied Kaia from the mailbox, and we continued our walk. “Let’s go home, pup.”

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p.s. OK, so maybe that’s not how it really happened. Maybe I couldn’t find the second bunny and just went home, feeling guilty.

By justmeandthevoices | Posted in Furry Things, Insane Ramblings, Kaia | Comments (24)

Rescue Mission: De-Briefing

August 24, 2009 – 4:30 pm

This weekend’s rescue mission went so much better than I had expected! Granted, Friday night was a bit of a pain. Rosie and I left St. Louis around 6:15, and didn’t get in to Arkansas until midnight. The highlight of the night was stopping at Dairy Queen for Blizzards. Purely for functional purposes, of course. We don’t LIKE ice cream at all. We would have much preferred some carrot sticks, but figured the chocolate and sugar would keep us awake.

After a short night’s sleep, we got up and headed to the lovely Macadoodles hole-in-the-wall convenience store where we were scheduled to meet the breeder. We stopped in to get some breakfast, but the only thing we found even remotely to our liking was a six pack of mini chocolate-covered donuts. Not Hostess, however, but some off brand we’d never heard of. In a word, nasty.

At 8:30, the breeder pulled up and opened up the back of her vehicle, and when I saw the dogs, I was surprised by how small they were. I mean, I know how much a typical Shiba Inu weighs, but I guess I never translated that into size, and the pictures I’d seen of them didn’t contain anything that my pea brain could use for scale.

I immediately focused on one particular dog that looked like the one I was supposed to get, and I asked it it was her. But the breeder told me that they didn’t bring her because she “wouldn’t fit.” Which made no sense because we had prepared for nine dogs, and up until the last minute the breeder had told us we’d be taking nine dogs. I was a bit panicked because I was afraid that I’d sacrificed my time, gas, money and sleep, all to end up with no dog to show for it.

So once we got the dogs loaded and back on the road, I called one of the coordinators of the rescue association, and she assured me that they’d move things around so I would get a dog. She called back a few minutes later to let me know I’d be taking this adorable little red one, who I just happened to like the best.  Also, she thought that the dog I was originally scheduled to get had probably gotten pregnant, and that’s why they didn’t send her. She was still a money-maker for the breeder.

It took five hours to get back to St. Louis, and the dogs were wonderful the entire time. There were two minor growling incidents, but the rest of the time they either slept or looked around excitedly. I didn’t have time to take a bunch of pictures of the group but here’s a picture of three of them:

Three of the Eight

Three of the Eight

Once we got back to St. Louis, we met the next person on the transport schedule and transferred the dogs to her car, which was not an easy feat, but we got it done. And the remaining seven dogs all made it to their respective foster homes safely.
Meanwhile, we went home with our new baby:
Meet Kaia!

Meet Kaia!

Kaia is SUCH a sweet dog! She’s nine years old, but doesn’t look a day over four. ;-) She’s a little shy, but that’s typical with puppy mill rescues. She hasn’t gotten much attention during her life, except when she had puppies. So she’s not used to a lot of human contact.
Foxy mama!

Foxy mama!

She loves to go outside for walks, is very good on the leash and doesn’t get aggressive while walking. I’ve introduced her to very young children, other dogs, and we even went to Petco yesterday for a bath! She did so well during all of these new experiences.
Mmmmm...Cheese

Mmmmm...Cheese

She hasn’t eaten ANY dog food yet, but again, that’s typical with rescue dogs. She’s adjusting to her new situation, and will ultimately eat when she gets hungry enough. In the meantime, we’ve been plying her with cheese. She LOVES cheese, and it’s a great way to make friends with her. Whoever (whomever?) has the cheese is her newest best friend.

So, we’re all getting acquanited with one another, and it’s looking like a really good match. As her foster mom, I’m supposed to post pictures and a bio of her on the adoption website within two weeks. Somehow, I don’t think I’m going to need to go to all that trouble…

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p.s. Anyone interested in adopting or fostering a Shiba Inu should visit www.savingshibas.com

By justmeandthevoices | Posted in Family Fun, Furry Things, Introductions, Kaia, Stuff I Like | Comments (18)

Rescue Mission

August 21, 2009 – 11:02 am

Remember how I told you I was going to be a foster Mom for a Shiba Inu?

Well, the transport of the dogs to all the foster homes is happening this weekend. The breeder is in Ft. Smith, Arkansas, and the foster homes are in St. Louis (me), Illinois, Iowa, Indiana, Texas and Michigan. So, in order to get all the dogs to their respective foster homes, they set up a transport schedule, consisting of several 90-mile legs. Then volunteers sign up to drive a leg or two in order to keep the dogs moving down the road.

Well, apparently there aren’t any people (except me) in the organization that live anywhere between Ft. Smith and St. Louis, so no one was volunteering for first five legs. The breeder would only drive the dogs one leg (thanks a lot!). If all the transport legs were not filled, then the dogs would be euthanized.

Obviously, I couldn’t let this happen, so I decided to drive the four legs to get the dogs from the border of Arkansas to St. Louis.  Consequently, my stepdaughter Rosie and I will drive to Bentonville, AR (Headquarters of Wal-Mart! Ugh.) tonight, stay in a hotel, and meet the breeder at 8:30 in the morning to take the dogs.

Here’s the fun part. There are NINE dogs. Four of them are 8-month-old male puppies, and the remaining five are females, all 6 to 9 years old. We will have four crates, so there will be two dogs per crate (with the exception of the puppies, who will have to bunk up three-in-one).

I asked the coordinator how often we’d need to stop for potty breaks, and she told me that the puppies would only need to stop once during the five-hour journey, but the older females could last the whole way. This was good news.

Shiba Inus have a very high tendency to bolt. Because of this, they must be on a leash at all times when outside. I only have one leash/collar, so we’ll have to take the puppies out one by one to potty. I actually may go buy another set today so we can do it two-by-two and speed up the process.

Once we get to St. Louis, I’ll meet up with the next person on the transport schedule, who will take the eight remaining dogs, and we’ll take our new girl home. It’s definitely going to be an interesting trip! I’ll take lots of pictures and report back after we get settled in.

Wish me luck, and have a great weekend!

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p.s. Did I mention NINE dogs????

By justmeandthevoices | Posted in Family Fun, Furry Things, Introductions, Kaia | Comments (14)

Melancholy

August 19, 2009 – 3:40 pm

I’m feeling very melancholy today. It was the first day of school for the boys, and I started the day off with tears in my eyes driving them to their respective bus stops. 

Their birthdays don’t really affect me this way. But starting school is different. It’s like a mile marker in the timeline of how much time I have left before they grow up. The miles just keep whizzing by, seemingly faster and faster every year.

I know this is the way it’s supposed to be, that we all raise our babies to eventually leave us someday. And I know tomorrow will be better.

But today? I don’t want them to grow up.

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Oh, and I got a speeding ticket at lunch. That certainly didn’t help matters.

By justmeandthevoices | Posted in Deep Thoughts | Comments (14)

Dress For The Job You Want

August 18, 2009 – 1:38 pm

OK, first of all, for those of you using a feed reader, you MUST click through to my actual site! Alright, everybody here? Excellent!

Notice anything different?

That’s right! I have a new blog design! And I’m uber excited about it! (As you’ve probably gathered from my excessive use of exclamation points.)

You see, that old generic WordPress template just wasn’t me. Much too staid. But THIS? *waves her hands around like a QVC hostess* Is me. Oh. Yeah.

See that chick up there? That’s ME! An exact replica, in fact. Right down to the expertly coiffed hair, the flawless skin free of wrinkles and strange black hairs, the straight white teeth, and the perfectly arched eyebrows. It’s so accurate, it could be a photograph.

And look at the cute little talk bubbles over there! ——————————-> 
You can learn more about me, contact me, check out the archives, and see all the blogs I love (still working on these).

And hopefully you like pink! If not, just imagine your favorite color instead.

I have to give credit for this makeover to two people. First is the beautiful and witty Tanis of Attack of the Redneck Mommy. A few weeks back, she introduced us all to HER new blog design. And since she’s one of my idols, I just had to have a new design too. And who better to choose than the same person she used? (I promise this is not a Single White Female type of idol worship. No, really.)

Which leads me to the second person, the extremely talented Courtney of Judith Shakes Design. Let me tell you folks, she was SO wonderful to work with. She made the process so easy for me, a total idiot when it comes to anything having to do with design. Which basically means I told her what I wanted, and she did all the work. That’s a quality I admire in a person.

So, if you’re thinking of experimenting with something new, check out her website. I can’t recommend her highly enough!

So, why the new design? Do I want to be a famous blogger? Who knows? I don’t even know what I’m having for dinner tonight.

But you know, just in case I become famous, I’ll already have “my brand” in place. I’m thinking ahead, getting all that stuff out of the way, so I can concentrate on my writing. ;-)

SIGNATURE

By justmeandthevoices | Posted in Introductions, Stuff I Like | Comments (18)

Blame it on Aunt Becky

August 6, 2009 – 2:33 pm

On May 11, 2008, I read this post by Aunt Becky of Mommy Wants Vodka. She’s my favorite blogger. We’re like this: || mostly because I stalk her. She probably wishes we were more like this |                                              |. Anyway, do you SEE that adorable puppy??? I think I ovulated when I saw that picture. She said that it was a Shiba Inu, which I’d never heard of. So I went to my good friend Google and learned all about these adorable dogs.

Turns out it’s a Japanese breed, similar to an Akita, but smaller. They’re a very spirited bunch, and often have the temperament of a cat.  Very intelligent, they often get bored in obedience classes because they learn so quickly. They’re also very clean, and rarely need baths. All good points in my book. Sure, they shed like a mofo, but what’s a little hair? Heh.

So, for months I had it in my head that I wanted one of these adorable angels. Then came the Shiba Inu Puppy Cam, where I could watch six Shiba puppies frolick and sleep all day long. (I was quite productive at work during this time. Ahem. )

But when winter came along, the thought of taking a puppy outside multiple times a day in the cold and snow tempered my desire quite a bit. And then when spring came, so did Coco. I got my motherly fix, until we had to give her to the Wildlife Rehab Clinic so she could be prepared to be released back into the wild.

After Coco left, I really wanted something to care for, but wasn’t sure what. Nature Boy has a strong dislike for cats (See honey, I didn’t say HATE!), and wasn’t very amenable to getting a dog either.  He’s very happy being pet-free. I considered a chinchilla, but it didn’t really trip my trigger that much.

So, a couple of weeks ago, using a little free time I had at work, I started looking for Shibas. You know, JUST BROWSING. And I came across this website: www.savingshibas.com My eye was immediately drawn to the sentence that read, “SIRA is in desperate need of foster homes!”. Hmmm, fostering might be a neat thing to do, I thought. I emailed the contact person and asked if they still needed foster homes in Missouri. She said they had 10 dogs on a waiting list that were at high risk for being euthanized, and YES they needed foster homes!

So I emailed Nature Boy first and asked him if it was OK for me to fill out a foster application, and to my wild surprise he said yes. (Normally I just do things and tell him about it later.) I filled out the application, gave them personal references  to call , and then waited. That same day, I was contacted by one of the representatives to schedule a home visit. This is so they can make sure I’m not a serial killer or that I don’t manage a dog fighting ring.

And guess what, y’all? I’m getting a dog!! You see, there’s this puppy mill breeder in Arkansas who has 10 females that are all 6-9 years old. They had served their purpose as breeder moms, and so he was just going to euthanize all of them! (Bastard. Maybe someone should euthanize him when his breeding days are over. I’ll volunteer.) Luckily SIRA saved the day (and the dogs) by finding foster homes for all of them.

So, on August 22nd, I will become the foster mommy of this beautiful girl:

So Pretty!

So pretty!

To say I’m excited would be a huge understatement. I’ve already bought everything she needs, including a rockin’ leash/collar/harness  set that has a light pink background with tiny black skulls & crossbones.

Now I’m just wondering if I’m actually going to be able to give her up for adoption. As her foster mom, I get to choose who she goes to. And I might just choose myself.

But this gal needs a name! A lot of people that own Shibas use Japanese names, but I haven’t really found one that excites me. So please leave me any suggestions in the comments. Here are some that I’ve come up with so far:

Lola
Willow
Kaia
Pixie
Lily

Thanks for your help! And if anyone is interested in adopting a Shiba, or in become a foster home, please check out the SIRA website: www.savingshibas.com

By justmeandthevoices | Posted in Family Fun, Furry Things, Introductions, Stuff I Like | Comments (30)

Seven

August 3, 2009 – 9:34 am

It was Friday, August 2, 2002. It had been a crappy day, because my boss had informed me that she was not going to be paying me for maternity leave after all. She waited until FIVE DAYS before my due date to tell me this. I was just glad that it was Friday, and I hoped that I would go into labor so I wouldn’t have to go back on Monday and deal with that.

Daddy, your brother and I went to Steak & Shake for dinner, and as we were finishing up, I felt a contraction. I never had those Braxton-Hicks contractions with you or your brother, so I knew this was probably the real deal and I was going to monitor the situation closely. Sure enough, they started coming pretty regularly.

So, did I call the doctor? Of course not! I knew that your Grammy would be coming to visit as soon as you were born, and I had to clean the bathroom! The master bathroom, that she would never be using during her stay. So there I was, on my hands and knees, sweating profusely while scrubbing the floor in between contractions. By the time I finished the floor, the contractions were three minutes apart. So I called the doctor, and we went to the hospital around 9:00 that night.

Once I got settled into my room, the nurse measured me and said I was dilated to about 4 cm. I tentatively asked for my epidural, and the nurse responded with, “Sure, I’ll call the anesthesiologist!” This was nothing like when I was in labor with your brother. They made me wait hours before getting it. I loved this hospital already.

When the anesthesiologist came in, I assumed the position of sitting on the edge of the table, with my back curled down as much as I possibly could with a large watermelon attached to my midsection. As he was performing the procedure, I could smell something that smelled like dirty feet. “Man, the doctor’s feet reek!” I thought to myself. After doping me up quite well, he left, but the smell still lingered. A light bulb went off in my head, and I ominously brought a foot to my nose. Yep, MY feet! D’oh! I had the nurse bring me a washcloth so I could spare the rest of the staff the glory of my odoriferous footsies. (See, pregnant women sweat. And when it’s August, they sweat A LOT. Especially the feet.)

Time marched on through the night. I dilated slowly, but at least I was progressing. The nurses kept a close eye on my blood pressure, as it had dropped very low after the epidural. It stayed quite low the whole time, but I was fine. I loved watching the contractions on the monitor, and blissfully feeling nothing. I would be all rested up for your arrival.

At one point, one of the nurses came in, looked at the fetal monitor and said that your heart rate was dropping during contractions. Nothing too concerning, but they gave me an oxygen mask to make sure you were getting enough too. Very quickly afterward, I was dilated to 10 cm, and it was time to push.

The doctor came in, not my regular doctor who was on vacation, but her partner. He was a such a nice, funny man. As my next contraction came, the doctor and nurses instructed me to push while Daddy counted to 10. I did, and at 5:18 a.m. on Saturday morning, you came out! In ONE PUSH. I’m pretty sure that’s a world record.

The umbilical cord was wrapped around your neck TWICE, and the doctor gently lifted it over your head, with no problem whatsoever. Daddy cut the cord, the nurses bundled you up and handed you to me, and I got to see your sweet face for the first time. You were such a handsome guy, even way back then.

My dearest Surfer Boy, it’s been such an infinite pleasure to be your Mommy for the past seven years. You are such a blessing to everyone who meets you. I don’t know if you realize how truly blessed you are. You’re so smart, at the top of your class. You’re so loving, kind and funny. You’re so handsome, with your blonde hair, green eyes and tanned skin. You’re so talented, excelling at every sport you try. You have it all, sweetheart. Use it wisely.

Thank you for still hugging and kissing me when I drop you off at school (even though you won’t hold my hand when we go out in public). Thank you for still letting me call you “baby”, because that’s what you’ll always be to me, no matter how old you are. And thank you for bringing me so much joy to my life, more than I ever knew was possible.

Happy Birthday, Surfer Boy. I love you.

Mommy

Sweet catch!

Sweet catch!

By justmeandthevoices | Posted in Family Fun, Stuff I Like, Surfer Boy | Comments (20)

Duct Tape and Daddy O’Grape

July 29, 2009 – 3:01 pm

My first guest post, I’m so excited! This was written by my beautiful stepmother, Honeybee. It cracked me up so much that I asked her if I could post it here, and thankfully she agreed. I just added the pictures and captions. It’s about my father, Daddy O’Grape. You know, the 50 Grapes Guy. Honeybee doesn’t have a blog, but she is a spectacular counselor. She is a loving, compassionate person, and funny to boot! So if you need any counseling, check out her website!

This is so spot-on about my father. I grew up with him building airplanes in the garage. Not model airplanes, real airplanes! So without further adieu…

My husband fixes things with duck tape.  That’s when epoxy or bondo won’t work.  He cleans our laundry stains with citrus hand-cleaner and, where other women chill when they hear, “Hey honey, watch this!” I shiver to the bone each time I hear, “Aw, it’s gonna be EASY!”  This usually means another project that should take two days that takes two months to two years.

My husband slices and dices, but not with the latest kitchen gadget.  He comes into the house dripping blood and doesn’t know it or care.  Whether home from the hangar or workshop, I can always expect new bumps and bruises, scrapes, and burns.  One time he let the propeller of an airplane get away from him and had to have TWELVE stitches in his head!  I could see his skull!  Doesn’t faze him a darn bit.  If it were me I’d be in tears – and I get so upset when he gets hurt, but when I fuss he just tells me it’s “nothing.”

Speaking of bleeding wounds, I (Suzy) bought him this shirt because he actually DID run with scissors once when he was a child, and ended up with many, many stitches in his wee scalp.

Speaking of bleeding wounds, I (Suzy) bought him this shirt because he actually DID run with scissors once when he was a child, and ended up with many, many stitches in his wee scalp. Obviously things haven't changed much.

 Our house is a plethora of strange things.  He really is a good craftsman, but who else do you know who has a ceiling fan put together from an old ceiling fan, paint, spit, and a brand new lighting fixture that used to be attached to our ceiling?  I have to admit, the “Frankenstein” ceiling fan looks good – but who woulda thought?

We use various poisons here.  If I complain that I can’t budge a paint stain or there is something stuck to the floor, here comes some can of solvent.  I mean, the things that can thwart fetal development!  Stuff that, if you breathe it, will take 10 years off your life!  And he’s really non-chalant and assures me he’s been using it for years with no negative results.  Yeah – right!  Who else do you know that cleans their laundry with citrus hand-cleaner?

My husband sprays our house for bugs.  Too cheap to let the Orkin man do it.  He mows our grass.  Can’t pay the neighborhood teens to do it.  If it can’t be done by one of us, in his mind it doesn’t need to be done.  This includes accounting and legal work.  We run three businesses and my husband has yet to pay one thin dime to a CPA, and he writes all his own business contracts.  Sure hope we don’t get sued or audited anytime soon!

Now I haven’t said anything about tie-wraps.  We don’t have a box of tie-wraps, or a plastic container of tie-wraps.  We have THOUSANDS of tie-wraps.  Probably about a 55 gallon drum full.  Anything that can’t be duck-taped or bondoed can always be tie-wrapped.  That or ratchet-strapped.  I believe he could build a house out of tie-wraps and ratchet-straps alone!

And he'd wear this hat while building the tie-wrap/ratchet-strap house! Because he's weird that way.

And he'd wear this hat while building the tie-wrap/ratchet-strap house! Because he really is THAT cool. Or dorky.

Do-It-Yourself Boy is a wonder at anything that is broken.  He rescues old, dented refrigerators and broken, rusted-out roto-tillers from trash piles in the neighborhood.  In fact, the rustier and more broken-down something is, the greater challenge it is to him to fix it.  And you’re not going to believe this one.  He won’t take the grand-kids to Six Flags but joys in hooking up our garden cart to the back of his riding lawn tractor and driving them all around the neighborhood.  Yes, the neighbors actually DO witness this.  I hide in the house.

Mr. Engineer can make something out of nothing.  His favorite movie scene is in Apollo 13 when the guys need to make an air-scrubber to remove the carbon dioxide out of the capsule and all they have is a box-full of tinker-toys and some old gym socks.  That stuff turns him on!  (Hence, our creative bedroom fan, as aforementioned.)

Well, while living with Mr. Bluejeans With The Torn T-Shirt can be a challenge, it is also rewarding.  I mean…he actually FIXES things.  Puts up shelves.   Saws up fallen trees and then tastefully repairs the fence.  He’s a good man and quite entertaining.  If we live through the solvent and insecticide fumes without major damage I guess we’ll be alright.  But if you think my prince is romantic, well, just ask me about his marriage proposal.  In the interest of your heart health, I’ll save that for another story.  (At least that one didn’t involve duck tape!)

Handsome AND handy!

Handsome AND handy!

Thanks so much for sharing, Honeybee! I love you!! (Although I could have done without that bit about the ceiling fan turning him on. Ick!) And I love you too, Daddy O! And Honeybee, you’d better get started on the marriage proposal story! I don’t even know it.

By justmeandthevoices | Posted in Family Fun, Introductions | Comments (9)

Death Came a Knockin’

July 27, 2009 – 11:10 am
Our back yard is a glorious landscape of native wildflowers, most of which were planted by Nature Boy. We also back up to a usually dry creek bed, so the view from our deck looks like this:

Yard

The combination of the wildflowers, woods and creek makes it a wonderful place for wildlife of all kind. We’ve seen groundhogs, foxes, coyotes, deer, raccoons, owls, hawks, tons of songbirds and other stuff I can’t remember right now.

A couple of weeks ago we had a visit from a mama deer and her two newborn fawns. It’s so adorable to see the little ones with their cute Bambi spots!  We saw the family a few times over the course of a few weeks, but then one day we noticed that the fawns were by themselves. We worried that their mama had died, leaving her orphaned babies to fend for themselves. Thankfully we noticed that the fawns were nibbling grass and what-not from the yard. At least they learned how to feed themselves before mama disappeared.

One day, the two fawns were sitting up in the common ground behind our neighbor’s house. I was determined to try and get up close and personal with them. So, armed with pretzel sticks to lure them with, I slowly approached.

Look little fawns, I have pretzels! Come, let's be friends!

Look little fawns, I have pretzels! Come, let's be friends!

Of course, as I got closer and closer they eventually bolted, off to mesmerize other suspecting neighbors with their cuteness. So much for me being The Deer Whisperer.

But then came The Smell. The unmistakable smell of death. As soon as we stepped outside we could smell it, and it was so pervasive that the whole cul-de-sac was heavy with the stench.

Nature Boy and I decided to investigate. We figured that something was probably dead in the creek bed. We donned our long pants and bug spray and made our way through the high wildflowers of our yard to the creek. I felt like the boys in Stand By Me, going to see a dead body (but we didn’t sing or tell ghost stories or anything fun like that). We trekked one way down the creek and back the other, but didn’t find anything. But we’d occasionally get a whiff of The Smell, and it seemed to be concentrated right around our house.

We climbed back up into the thick of our yard, and as soon as we got up to ground level, The Smell told us that we were very close. After only a few minutes we found her — Mama Deer. We got very close and were surprisingly unfazed by the sight. Very sad, but not disgusted. I won’t go into gory details, but suffice it to say she was in and advanced state of decomposition. We tried to surmise what had happened to her, but her body gave up no clues.

We didn’t know what to do, so we just headed inside and showered all the chiggers off. I got in touch with animal control and the department of conservation, but no one would come out and remove her body. So we’re just planning on letting nature take its course, unless the neighbors complain too much, and then we’ll bury her. Nature Boy said that by winter we’d have a nice clean skull for the boys.  Gross.

Rest in peace, Mama Deer. We’ll keep an eye on your babies.

That was a nice, happy story for a Monday, right? God, what is wrong with me?

By justmeandthevoices | Posted in Family Fun, Furry Things | Comments (24)

God It’s Hot Up Here!

July 22, 2009 – 3:31 pm

Those are the words I speak most every day in the summer, when it’s at least 10 degrees hotter upstairs than it is downstairs. And let me tell you, I’m not a nice person when I’m hot. (Or cold. Or hungry. Or tired.) Just ask Nature Boy, as he gets the brunt of my bitching.

But the absolute worst of the worst is after I’ve showered and blow-dried my hair. The bathroom is already steamy from the shower, then add 8-10  minutes of using a hot blow dryer, and I’m a sweaty, bitchy mess. How am I supposed to put makeup on when my face is dripping? (By the way, my face sweats the most AND gets beet red when I’m hot.  Pretty! My face would make a nice salt lick for a deer.) So I usually end up dragging our fan over to the bathroom entrance so it can dry the sweat as I apply my makeup and flat iron my hair. 

The other morning, I was nagging to Nature Boy that if I could have any super power it would be the ability to do my hair with the quick flick of a wrist. (I’d do it like Samantha on Bewitched, but I can’t wiggle my nose like that.) Any style, any length, etc. No blow dryers, flat irons, curling irons or product needed. Voila!

But then once I got that super power I just know I’d get greedy and want more. I’d want to be able to step inside a special closet like Jane on The Jetsons and come out looking fabulous every time. But even then, it wouldn’t be enough.

How about the ability to just wake up and be ready to go? No showering, teeth brushing, leg shaving, moisturizing, tweezing, etc. Oh, and of course I’d have to add in the ability to eat whatever I wanted, and still have a HEALTHY, fit body, without having to diet or exercise.

Next would be the ability to grow a money tree in the back yard so none of us would have to work. We’d be able to do whatever we wanted, when we wanted, and not have to worry about saving for our children’s educations or our retirement.

So eventually all I’d do is eat, sleep and watch TV. Unless I had something fun to do like travel, which would be wicked awesome because I could afford it, I’d look and feel fabulous, and I wouldn’t have to pack. (Wait, I’d need to add in teleportation so I wouldn’t have to suffer the airlines.)

So basically what I’m trying to say is that super powers are like Lay’s potato chips. Betcha can’t have just one.

So, what would YOUR super power(s) be?

By justmeandthevoices | Posted in Rants and Raves | Comments (18)
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