Mabel on My Mind

Oh NO! Puppy on the bed!

I've spent a lot of time this past week pondering the wonders of my girl. While the calendar tells me she is six come Saturday, Mabel still behaves like a puppy. At least once a week, someone at the creek will ask me how old my puppy is. When I tell them almost 6, the reply comes that she's very big for six months. They will look at this large, strange, happy, energetic, playful girl with amazement when they realize we're talking about years.

I guess I'm starting to worry a little. She sleeps more, and not on the porch where she can "protect" her yard. Not on her bed in whichever room I'm working in. She prefers my bed during the day or when I'm asleep and her own bed tucked into a corner of my bedroom during the early evening.

But at the creek, she's all puppy: wide-eyed & alert. Her mood, like mine, is adjusted upwards when outside and exploring.

Shh!!! The baby is sleeping!

Five Years, Ten Months & Twenty Three Days

That is the longest I've ever had a dog. That is the reason, instead of rescuing another fully grown Rottweiler, I got a puppy six years ago (my first and last).

I must admit, I chose her for her looks. Clearly part rottie, but not quite. That black line that separates a Rottweiler's cheek from the muzzle was missing giving her the sweetest look on her face. She was cute and she knew it. But it was wearing off and her mischievous nature had made her so hard to place.

Yes, I KNOW I peed on the floor... but I'm CUTE!

Lately I've come to realize, I was meant to be her mom. No one else could put up with this brat! And frankly, no other dog would put up with me.

Even after all these years, she still pushes my buttons, tests my will and makes me just plain crazy. And, the thing I hate most about my dog is probably the thing that makes her the most like me: We both share an incredible need to march to our own offbeat drummer, everything else be damned.

A prime example is when we round the bend near the "kitty house." Mabel will glance over her shoulder to see if I'm on my game. Even if I am, she pauses at the fork in the trail, thinking: left to the kitties, right to the creek.

Some days, she darts and I have to forget about my ridiculous, handicapped feet and race after her, paying dearly for it later. But, I secretly enjoy when she makes up her own mind to turn right, rolling her big browns as if to say, I won't...but I could.

And still, just to piss me off one more time, she always stops to potty where the trail narrows, knowing (hoping?) I will pass her by and she can turn tail and run back to the kitties.

All Grown Up

Now that Mabel is six, I find her less needy. She no longer gives her kisses on demand. She doesn't need to join me every night on the sofa in winter (more like every other night).

Come cuddle Mama!

We've lived side by side and for most of that time, I've worked at home with her nearby. I know her dark side. She knows mine. We sleep side by side and while I fully admit she has me wrapped around her little toenail, I sometimes wonder how well I know her at all.

Around five this morning, in my pitch dark bedroom, I became aware of her breathing. It was not that of a sleeping, restful dog. It got my attention enough to force me fully awake. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I realized her head was up. Mabel was fully awake and alert. And she was staring at me.

I realized how vulnerable I was, sleeping with a big powerful dog in my bed. What was she staring at? What did she want?

I felt her moving, scooching closer. I see her paw moving. It went straight to my right wrist. She wrapped that paw around my wrist and pulled my hand out from under my pillow. She wanted me to pet her. At five in the morning?!?!?!?

I guess she's still my baby after all.

Queen of the Mountain

Happy Sixth Baby Girl! Many more...Please give me many, many more!





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My Thirteen Cents Worth

Janet's post about irritation at banks and life have me thinking about my own fangs.

I have a new approach to dealing with ShittiBank - the problem was first written about here.

Basically, they started charging me a $10 "no service" fee for paying my loan on my condo direct debit on the 10th. I've paid said loan exactly this way for 20 years! And I guess I wouldn't take issue with them except you can still walk into the bank until the 16th and pay the loan and not incur any "no service" fees. If they are going to change one rule, they need to change the other!


I have successfully avoided the "no service" fee by simply walking into the bank closest to my home, you guessed it, a ShittiBank.

At first, I simply took pleasure knowing that:
a) they were getting their money a full five days later
b) it cost them more money to process a paper check
c) it would be a couple more days before that money left my bank account.

Only now, that's not enough. I've created more ways to make them getting their money out of my hide even more costly.

Now, in addition to paying on the 15th, I pay part of the loan - say $40 - in cash. The teller has to take longer to process both cash and my check. And, my loan amount ends in 87 cents so, I round up to next dollar. A whopping 13 cents. Which has to be applied to my principal. Which the teller never knows how to do. She has to call over a manager. It takes a few minutes but I really have fun watching them figure out what to do with my 13 cents. And because I paid a tiny bit down on the principal, they make a penny or two less in interest the next month.

This may seem minute to you or even the bank, but honestly, I have more time than money and I really enjoy watching the tellers work for it!

And in the end, I pray I'm costing ShittiBank around ten bucks a month.
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You Know You Want It...

Com'on... I've been such a good girl.




...And I've been waiting SO LONG.
I've lit a fire and ....














....You KNOW you want it...












After all it IS

Valentine's Day!

So, PLEASE...










Gimme a kiss already!




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Toasted Marshmallows

I mentioned before that Miss Mabel loves a good marshmallow roast. Thought I would prove it with some pictures. You should try hanging on to a hot, melty marshmallow inches from a dogs lips while taking a photo with the non-sticky hand sometime!

Com'on Mom! I'm WAITING!!!

Puhleeze! NO PHOTOS! The flash hurts my delicate eyes!

Yum!!!

Isn't that curl in my tongue CUTE???

Slurp! (Look at those EYES!)

Finger Lickin' Good!

O.K. Mom, Get busy! Put some more on this thingy here and get 'em in the fire!

Later, after her final potty for the night, Mabel will come in the house, looking for her bedtime treats and lick the tines of the campfire roaster clean!

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Life: Expensive; The Alternative:??

My best friend B is damn hard to get out of the house. She doesn't like going anywhere because it costs money.

Well, this week, I've apparently set about proving that one can stay home and spend a fortune!

On Tuesday, my vacuum started smoking. I've hated this thing (a Bissell) since I bought it. Recently, at the mall, I saw a man leaving Sears with my exact vacuum in hand. I started squealing at this total stranger, "Take it back! Take it BACK! You'll hate it! Take it BACK."

Still, I didn't exactly want the thing to die. And living with a dog makes owning a vacuum an absolute necessity. On Wednesday, I went to Costco and got a new one.

Cost of new Vacuum: $279; Cost of living without one: Too furry to contemplate.

On Thursday, while doing taxes on my laptop, I realized I needed to mention something about my business site to my Yahoo group. To refresh my memory, I went online (something I rarely do on the work computer). I was shocked and appalled at the color of some of the images on my website. Then I went to my bead site... More shock. I realized that colors that look so rich and wonderful on my big computer monitor, look washed out on other computers. After verifying with a few friends, I realized my monitor was on it's last legs. And since my business depends on my being able to put images up online... the writing was on the screen. I shopped online and found the best deal for pick up at my local Sam's Club.

New Monitor: 300.13; Life with the old Monitor: Imminent poverty.

By Friday, I realized rain was coming in and I still had not dealt with my leaking car. I took it up to my regular mechanic since I could not remember who installed the new windshield 2 summers ago. Shortly after I had walked home ( Another story; see below), my mechanic called with the bad news.

It seems that the reason I got such a good deal before was the guy installed a windshield too small for my car! No wonder it was leaking. And this is dangerous. They had another jeep like mine that had been leaking and the water was frying the fuse box to the tune of a thousand bucks.

Cost of new windshield: $237. Price of not dealing with it: A very damp ride.

Since I knew I may not get the car back in time for a trek to the creek, I took Mabel Lou and walked her home. My mechanic is up the street and around the corner. But right behind his place is a short road that leads to a park and the highest mountain road in Sunland. It's a gorgeous walk home. One good block from home, I ran into an older gentleman I've known since I first moved in. He's the type of guy that loves to tinker and I've called on him a few times to help me move a piece of equipment or to help out with a household crisis.

We were chatting with his grandson when I felt a tug at the leash. I turned to Mabel and grabbed harder and as soon as I read her body language: CAT!!! As I pulled, she took off and suddenly the sidewalk leapt up to my face! I landed solidly on my right boob with my knees, elbows and heels of my palms taking some of the force as well. I rolled on the ground, crying as my friend came out of his yard to help.

When I finally got to Mabel... a few houses away, I was a mad hornet! I scooped up my 90 lb. dog by the scruff of her neck like she was a 3 lb. pup! I held her there in the air, whimpering, and just stared at her. Coming back to my senses, I gave her a good shake and eased her down ( I have no idea where that strength came from!) and limped home.

I was so sore but it's the boob that concerns me. This is the second time I've fallen and landed on a boob! Here's the tale of the first. That injury caused me to get mammarygrams every three months for three years! So I'm now dreading the next one ($50) and the call to come back for a sonogram ($150) and then all the follow-ups ($550). Not to mention, I just got an adjustment from the world's best chiropractor and will surely need another within the week($60 a pop). It should've held for a few months... but not now. And I'm going to need a massage to get the kinks out of my muscles ($85).

Cost of walking the dog: $895; Cost of living alone: Insanity.

And if that wasn't a bad enough week, yes there's more. My godson got phone jacked! Some kid asked him to use his cell, claimed his ride was late, then claimed there was no answer. He just yelled at my boy, "You just got jacked, dude." My godson gave chase and told the guy to keep the phone but to please give him his SIM card. The guy decked my boy. My extended family had to spend the afternoon running around getting new phones, canceling the old one, etc.

Cost of new phone gear: $59; Real cost of the phone jacking: Loss of innocence and wonder at the world.

Some weeks are just harder and more expensive than others. But that's life. Guess it beats the alternative - most days.





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