Apparently We Have A Superhero In Our Midst

This morning when I woke up bright and early to visit the bloggy world before showering and leaving for Praise Team Rehearsal I heard an odd sound. A sound like something falling. Hmmm, could that have been Grey Poopon? Whatever it was, he was securely in the shelter I built for him yesterday and I felt confident that it would be sufficient to stop by there on my way out the door to give him his antibiotic and make sure he had a good supply of food and water. OH, darn - that reminds me that I did not stop in on Marsha's Musings this morning to continue her series of devotions on Psalm 103. Excuse me while I do that - I'll be back in a few minutes.....(or you can come with me - it's proving to be an excellent series)....Okay - I'm back. Wow. She took one verse and just broke it down for me. Perhaps more to blog about later. Now what was I saying? Oh - yes, Grey Poopon. So, I checked my email, and then my bloglines updater and here and there would hear dogsteps that sounded a wee bit close but thought, "Nah, I'm just hearing him in his secure, barricaded area." I caught sight of the time and decided it was time to get dressed. Still hearing dogsteps here and there, but still convincing myself that I'm just imagining them closer than they appear. Got dressed and grabbed my purse, closed my bedroom door behind me and headed down the hallway. Pass the first door on the right which is the bathroom and come to the second door on the right which is 12 year old boy's room. He leaves his door open so that his dogs can go and lay in his room while he is away at school. What do I see in there but this big, bony DOG. WHAT?? AS I am talking to all three of the dogs about the situation and sweet-talking to Poophead Grey Poopon to come with me to his designated area, I begin to see them. Places throughout the house where he has MARKED HIS TERRITORY as though he were Hansel leaving himself a trail to get back home. As I am now muttering to myself about how I wanted to be to rehearsal 30 minutes early so I could set up and make copies and pray at my leisure, I come around the corner and see the barricade that I had installed, still intact and half the stuff that had been ON the counter now on the inside of said barrier all over the floor(some of which actually fell into the food and water bowls left for this 'sick and mamed animal'). Did I mention that there were two barstools stationed in front of the barrier to deter dogs from climbing on either side of it?. So. Here are the possibilities - the dog either jumped over the counter, or jumped over the barricade. We're talking 35 inch-high countertops. (I measured). Oh dear. This is NOT good. "WHAT AM I GOING TO DO WITH YOU NOW?" The kitchen was the only room I could isolate him in that still had the old 70's faux brick flooring in it, while still allowing the dogs who do their business outside access to the dogdoor. I decided I would just have to put Grey out in the dogyard/kennel and block the door so that he can't come back in and the others will just have to stay in the house until I return from Rehearsal because I can't yet be sure that they'll all be well and good if they have unfettered access to each other. So, I block the dog door, get him in the yard through the outside gate and return to the house to grab my bottle of Clorox Clean Up and my unopened roll of paper towels. As I see my time slipping away, I go around the house de-'marking' and de-grossifying. Just as I am finishing up, I hear the neighborhood dogs flipping a noodle. OH NO. Do NOT even TELL me that that DOG has jumped the kennel fence! Oh yes. The 'sick/injured/starving' dog of yesterday is actually a superhero in disguise who can FLY. So, after coaxing SuperPoop Grey Poopon back to the dogyard, I determine that my next and last option for keeping this doof safe until his people come to claim him is to tie him to the tree in the dogyard. THAT was fun. It became quickly and abundantly evident to me that it had been TOO long since I or any other person currently living in this house had picked up the doggiedoodoo in the kennel. You can imagine how it is that I figured this out. Okay okay - enough with the dog drama - I have GOT to go. I stepped back inside to get my music box rolling cart of pink greatness and purse and loaded up into the car. At which time I see that it is 8:30. This is the time that I had intended to be showing up at the Chapel all leisurely like and uber-prepared. Hmph. It takes 20 minutes to drive to post from my house. And now because of all the exertion I had been doing all morning, I have to eat or croak. I called one of the girls to let her know that I would be late and asked if she could please inform everyone else. I walked IN the activity room door at 9:00. Which is what time rehearsal is scheduled to begin. God must have slowed the time-warp-continuum. More posts to follow...

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.

Time To Face The Music (Stinky Music)

Let's face it. The kennel needed to be dealt with. So I attacked it with the pooper-scooper in hand. I filled the bucket nearly to overflowing. Then I raked under the bushes, cause sometimes you miss some droppings when you can't see them through the leaves, and there are broken branches from Angus trying to climb the tree. What? Are stray dogs the only one's allowed to have superpowers? The next order of business - cut the grass. Although the rest of the lawn (especially the part that all passers-by see) is dormant, the kennel grows a bit of grass and some happy winter weeds, and a bit of mint here and there. Plus there are two Gardenia bushes and one other giant one that I don't know the name of that are green all year long, and I am growing vining roses on two sides of the fence - to deter the lovely Madison from digging to china (it's a little harder to do when you keep getting poked). If you've known me for any length of time, you proably know that the push-mower is my nemesis. I do not prefer to use it, however - the riding mower will not fit through the gate. Such is life. When hubby was in Korea the 2nd time,(Oct. '05 to Oct. '06) I had so much trouble with this thing. I could not start it most of the time, and when I did get it started - I actually pulled a muscle in my right arm from the effort of it. The neighbor looked at it - said he couldn't figure out what was wrong - but he did start it for me. I sent that thing to a lawnmower repair guy who claimed to have serviced it and did all he could do for it, and I still could not start it. I know you don't need me to point out how small frustrations like this can become so daunting when you are doing everything yourself. Before hubby went overseas this time, he serviced that thing like nobody's business and says he really doesn't believe the lawnmower guy did anything to it at all, but that he is confident that I will be able to start it with no problem now. PLUS - because he left in November, he did the last mowing of the entire property for the season, because it goes dormant for the winter. I LOVED this. Well, today was the end of that party. At least for the push-mower anyway. After picking up the rake pile, and locking the owners of the property in the house (because they think they are death-defying stunt dogs who need to bite at dangerous-blade-spinning machinery.)I grabbed the key and headed determinedly to the barn, talking with God the whole way about how I was sorry that I had neglected what He had given us and thanked Him for the opportunity to set it right and on such a beautiful day, and how I would sure like to not have to brawl with the push mower. My BRILLIANT idea: I will put gas in the mower, prime it, and attempt to start it IN the barn so that way, if it doesn't start I won't have drug it ALL the way across the yard and have to drag it ALL the way back. And also - if I am unsuccessful, no neighbors will see me and laugh. (Who cares? Oh yeah - my pride. dumb. can I EVER put that down for even a cotton-pickin-stinkin minute??) Guess what? It started! First try! Yay hubby! And THANK YOU JESUS. Okay, so I let it turn off and drag it out of the barn and to the dogyard when I remember that there were a few balls I came across while picking up the mess that I forgot to pick up and move. So I did that. When I came back and pulled the string....the mower did not start. No. I am not kidding. Self-control is a fruit of the Spirit. I calmly walked to the side of the mower, looked it straight in the engine, and told it, "If you do not start the next time I try you, you will be ferociusly dismantled to your smallest part and mailed by parcel post to different parts of China to be painted with lead paint and made into children's toys." Okay, I didn't really say that. I just primed it again and moved it to the most level, shortest grass area I could find, and it started with just a slight sputter. Do you know that I STILL ran over doodoo? These poor animals. I don't think they had even an inch of bare yard to do their business on. (and I have said a million, cajillion times that I do not exagerrate.). Now the kennel is all nice and clear for landing....lol!

Those yellow brackets along the fenceline? Yes. They are for hotwire. I completely installed it myself when hubby was in Korea because Madison the wonderdigger kept trying to go to China, or to each and every neighbor's house, or across the street where dogs get smashed regularly. There's no wire on it now because she had stopped digging and we planted the roses to help deter her, but the brackets and the main power box remain just in case I need to hook it up again. Yep. Philippians 4:13 - all the way - I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me! This was one of the many things I pondered while doing the yard work - the greatness of our God, that when we are in line with His will - we really can do ANYTHING. I also thought about the lessons that I have learned since we have been here in the swamp, the rich spiritual growth I have experienced here, the current study I am taking on the book of love - not romantic love; brotherly love. Ephesians. wondering if I am in the right class this semester - not because of the teacher - she is great - just the study itself. Of course, God has proven over and over again that all things work together for good to those that love Him, and I do. Being real with myself about how much time I spend in the Word, where my thought life goes, and how bright is the light that shines through me. Reviewing my relationships with each of my four children. What can I do better. What housework needs to be done. Realizing that I am still learning some of the same lessons that I have been learning for the past 5 years, some of it re-learning, yes, but mostly learning it deeper and deeper. What is my future role at pwoc - we are coming up on another big PCS (Permanent Change of Station) cycle where, once-again, I will watch as people I have come to care for move on to other places and me having to start all over again with new people coming in. I don't want to. I want to be done with that. Can I be done with that?

Bad dog! No biscuit!

Warning: This post is not likely to inspire anything but nervous laughter, or disgust, and the pictures aren't likely to either. It just is what it is.(and btw - our house is a work in progress, so don't freak out over the 1970's "brick" flooring and crazy cabinets!)

This is what we came home to this evening:

Our big, fat, naughty dogs got into the trash. AND they pulled stuff down off of the counters. Broke several dishes. There was even a broken bowl in the living room. They also got into the bathroom trash which was just too sensitive to even show.

Madison apparently had to put down her toy to help in the destruction.(see it there on the left next to the trash can lid?)

Here they are looking appropriately sorry. Wait. Is that a GRIN on Madison's face??