The Wazzzzup??? Update

Grey Poopon:

Grey Poopon is still here. Today my 12 year old daughter and I built him a doghouse because it is going to rain tonight and he cannot come in the house (cause we are not into furniture decorated by urine) (well, at least not since we've been done potty-training) but he has separation anxiety when we board him in the barn.

We have ads in both local papers and fliers up around town. And he has been posted in the front yard since the morning after we found out he was a urinetrailleavingsuperherodog just in case his people happen to drive by looking for him. No one has called for him, no one has come by. After the ads run their course (7 days from Friday) I will make new ads advertising for a free dog to whoever wants him. His wound is healing and he has nearly finished his course of antibiotics. He loves us and wants to stay. No he may not.

Dumb financial situation: It seems we are dealing with two institutions here. 1.)My bank 2.)The agency they employ to investigate fraud.

This morning I faxed the affidavit with the very much appreciated help of Hubby's work to #2. On the cover I asked to be notified when the affidavit was received. I also called directly following the fax and left a message to be contacted when the fax was received. I then called this afternoon after not having been contacted and spoke with my personal representative who explained to me that when they did not receive the affidavit back, they closed out the case and returned it to #1. Who having no other recourse to recover the money, recovered it from me. Through much discussion and question asking on my part, I came to understand that I am still within the allotted time window that #2 has to investigate the case and that they will notify #1 as soon as the affidavit is entered into the system. Then it is #1's prerogative if they give me money back or not. I can call #2 back tomorrow to verify if the affidavit has been entered and if they have notified #1, so then I can call #1 and beg for sweet mercy and $1300.

My Ankle: I have long since ditched the crutches and the brace. It is still swelling up every night and tender all the live-long day. Not enough to stop me walking. Just enough to be a reminder to me to watch where I am going. The bruising is all gone.

Friday Update

Just a short note to let you know - Grey Poopon is still here. Today the newspaper ads start running and I am going to copy the flier and see where I can post it. I am going to re-post my note about Wednesday and leave those posts to sit another day.

"Just so you know - I think today is going to be a multiple-post day. I seem to have a lot on my mind! I will adjust the post times so that today's posts can be read from top to bottom. **There are 8 posts all together**"

I Am No Animal Lover

First, let me clarify, for the record, that I did NOT in any way, shape or form, invite this dog into my yard. And I will also remind the court that I did, in fact, attempt to ignore the animal. That being said, it would appear that I have given the World Wide Web the impression that I am a bleedingheartliberalanimallover. Let me just assure you that I am NOT. I find animals offensive for all the reasons that Shauna listed as her husband's reasons for not liking animals PLUS they are filthy, needy, smelly, and EXPENSIVE. Here is my proof......

This is SuperDoof's Grey Poopon's new living arrangement. That's right. in. the. yard. On a chain, I might add.

Here is a collage of him groveling at my cold, cold, heartless feet...

Here is a collage where you can see that I am getting in his face and lecturing him about failing to reveal his superpower when he arrived on the scene...

although it may appear that he is wearing a new flea collar, and is attached to a shiney new dog chain and tether post rather than a rusty, tetanus filled one, and you may think that you have seen a food and water dish, and that looks like he has a choice between shade or sun to lay in. I assure you once again, that I am NOT a bleedingheartliberalanimallover.

Grey Poopon Update

I walked over to chat the neighbor up, which is sort of an understatement because any time I come within 20 feet of their yard, their pack of hunting dogs freak out and bark continuously until I am out of their sight or off of their property. We chatted over the din for a while about the 15 year old driving, and the starting up of each vehicle to keep it running, and how the 15 year old replaced the battery in the Neon, and how the guy neighbor was doing after his surgery and how the crazy stray dog flies and such and such and this and that and then she told me that she had checked the paper and that there were no ads regarding Grey Poopon. Darn. I told her that the 15 year old had made fliers and that I dropped one off at the vet's office on my way home from rehearsal and they suggested putting one up at the post office. Excellent! I'll do that tomorrow! Then it's back to my life across the road. I went and checked on Grey Poopon who now loves me so much that he rolls over onto his back and bares his tummy for me to rub it for him. geesh.

Pardon Me, Would You Have Any Grey Poopon?

THIS is the umteenth stray dog to grace our property with its presence.

It's days like these that make an $11,000 fence not sound so out of reach and/or reason. He showed up this afternoon and of course had our two beasts upset. When I looked out the window, I saw that he wasn't really paying much mind to the owners of the property even though they were jumping and yelling hysterically at him to get the heck out or come real close so they can 'play'. So, I just let him be, figuring that he was on his way to greener pastures and would soon be a bother to someone else's hairy friends. Well; then, there came a knock at the door. The neighbor who is my animal downfall was at the door. It is perfectly impossible to be indifferent to stray animals when this huge-hearted lady is knocking at your door and asking, "Did you know you had a visitor?" Yes. I knew. And then it happened. She saw something. "What's that?" The dog was injured. Super. That's it. Party's over. Now, we must act. God put us over all the animals and all that. (I am slightly ashamed to admit that he also was looking on the thin side) - but in my defense - he WAS wearing a collar. SOMEbody owned this dog. Not this somebody; some other somebody. Okay, so I look down at the appalling gash that she is pointing out and say, "Ohhhhhkaayyyy. Can we get him in the car? What time is it? Is the local vet still open? AND WHAT are we going to DO with him after THAT?" Her response...."I don't know - but i'll pay half of whatever the vet charges." So she coaxes him into the van [MY VAN] with a dog biscuit and I lock the kids in the house and say, "I am going down the street! All the rules apply! Blah blah bl-*slam*" And do my best impression of a doggie ambulance driver who has no lights or sirens and must obey the country road speed limit. The vet was already gone, but the assistants kindly looked at him, and fell in love with his shy armylowcrawling and promptly told me he was definitely a (catahoula) cur, less than two years old, probably about 70lbs, and that this would not need to be stitched up, that he clearly had been taking good care of it himself. "Here's some antibiotics, some ointment and SCRUBBIES so you can clean it up." Huh?? They are both smiling and happy as if everyone on the planet can happily scrub a deep, gaping, fleshy wound. THIS deep, gaping, fleshy wound ....(this is gross - you may want to scroll past)

$10 later (not even gonna charge the neighbor half) and a bunch of coaxing him back to the van [MY VAN] I get him home and the kids spring into action. The rest is heroics of mounting barricades to walls with the super powered power drill and keeping down the angry beasts whose home has been invaded. again. The 15 year old has printed posters to give out at school - and one to post at the vet's, 12 year old boy did the scrubbing of the wound, and 12 year old girl leaned too far too fast in the recliner and bashed her head on the side table. This dog must go.

What's with the Grey Poopon? Okay, well, our dogs are named for their color - and we also think it is fun to try to name them after food. So we have Black Angus, Yellow Madison(which should be margarine but we forgot for a second and madison stuck) and now our temporary lost soul - Grey Poopon. Get it? Poop-on? As in dog...(I am not ashamed to laugh alone.)