Saturday, March 09, 2013

Happy Birthday, Daddy!

Daddy's last Dallas County Medical Society photo
Today would have been my father's 85th birthday.  I wrote about his story last year in this post, so I won't re-tell the story.  I thought, however, I would share a few small things I remember about him--things that made him, well, him.

1.  Daddy did not like to go barefooted.  I never saw him without shoes, or, at the very least, socks on his feet.  I think he was this way because he often didn't have shoes growing up.
2.  He could not swim, and was afraid of water. 
3.  He cared nothing about sports of any kind, and only watched the Cowboys in order to have something to talk about in the doctor's lounge on Monday mornings.
4.  Daddy loved to shop as much as any woman ever did!
5.  He occasionally played guitar in a band with his brother Wayne. 
6.  He was a self-taught musician who could not read music. 
7.  He was kind of afraid of big dogs.
8.  While in college and medical school, he worked as a mechanic.  Later, he loved to tinker with his RV, although he didn't generally work on cars.
9.  He never, ever forgot a birthday or an anniversary--and never failed to give wonderful presents!
10.  In one year, he spent more on clothes than I will in a lifetime.  He was quite the clothes horse.  Again, I imagine it was because he didn't have many clothes growing up.
11.  Daddy had a terrible temper!
12.  He loved to read--mostly westerns, but he would read anything.
13.  Daddy developed diabetes a couple of years before he died.  He was always dieting, even though he wasn't heavy.
14.  He was an accomplished wood carver.  He took lessons several times, but had natural artistic talent!
15.  He was hopelessly in love with my mother! 

A 1970s church picture (the only church picture we ever had made)

My dad, me, and my grandfather on our Alaskan cruise in 1978
My dad, mom, and me at my wedding in 1988

Friday, March 08, 2013

The Princess of Naughtiness and General Mayhem

Can guess who, at my house, holds this "distinguished" title?  If you said "Sitka," you're correct. 

The Princess had another little "adventure" last night after someone left my back gate open.  I can't decide who to blame for this incident:  the lawn crew, the meter reader, or some other unknown person who traipsed through my backyard and left the back gate wide open.  Whoever they are--they are on my s**t list! 
Since I'm working 14-hour days right now, the dogs are so eager to go outside when I get home that they nearly bowl me over when I open the door.  So, last night, as usual, they went out when I came in.  I changed clothes, got the mail, and got their dinner ready.  I was looking forward to eating my nice burrito bowl from Chipotle, too! 
I opened the door and called, "Dinner!"  Those words always work like a magic charm to get them inside.  One dog in, two dogs in...wait!  Where's the third dog?  I walked out into the back yard--no Sitka.  I checked the front gate--secure as can be.  With a growing sense of dread, I headed out back, and sure enough, the back gate was wide open!  It's a wonder both Juneau and Sitka weren't on the loose.  I guess Juneau was just so interested in dinner that he didn't notice the opportunity for freedom.
Immediately, I grabbed my clothes and my phone and jumped in the car to go look for her.  Of course, it's after 9 pm and completely dark.  Luckily (one would think), I found her right away, one street over.  Problem was, I couldn't catch her!  After nearly an hour of "herding" her up and down the street, jumping in and out of my car, I still couldn't grab her.  Every time I'd get near her, she'd dart off.  She kept running into people's open backyards.  I wasn't about to go back into someone's yard to get her, especially in the dark.  That's a good way to get shot as a prowler.
I chased her down to the end of the street, and then she just disappeared between two houses.  That end of the street doesn't have any lights, and by then the houses were dark.  I was angry and scared, and I didn't know what else to do other than give up.
I went home and tried to eat, but wasn't hungry.  After a little while, I went to look for her again.  No sign of her at all anywhere.  I even drove over to my old house to see if she had gone there.  Nope!  With a heavy heart I gave up and went home.  At home, I even tried opening the door and yelling, "Treats!"  and "Dinner" to see if she'd come home.  No such luck.  I left the gates open in the hopes that she would come back into the yard.
I laid down on the couch, and finally fell asleep around midnight.  I woke at 1 am--no Sitka.  I woke up at 3 am--and, voila!  There she was; curled up in her mudpile in the back yard.  Like any parent whose child has come home after running away, I couldn't decide whether to hug her or yell at her.  I hugged her, but scolded also!!!
Thank God she came home on her own!  I don't know what I would have done if she still weren't home by this morning.  These kids--they're going to be the death of me!  She's limping today; she must have pulled something when she was running.  I don't like for her to be in pain, but a part of me thinks she earned it! 

Sunday, March 03, 2013

Juneau and the Wubba Wubba

The weather has been nice, but chilly, the last few days here in Dallas.  It's my week off, so the dogs and I have been spending a little time outside. 
During one of our trips outside, Juneau dragged out his wubba wubba so that he could play with it.  He's such a goober--every time he chews on the toy, it squeaks.  And when it squeaks, he cries! 
Dogs are so entertaining!