Button Sunday

This post has been a while coming, though I can never write all the things I want to about Prince. For me to have bought anything on vinyl in the early to mid-1980s was rare because I was on such a tight budget. Buying music would seriously have been a choice not to buy food. Also, the water leak disaster in one of my college-years houses that left most of my albums unplayable meant I got rid of a lot of them. But I could never have let go of Purple Rain. I have it on CD now, but holding the album in my hands evokes so many memories of all the stereos and apartments and cities where I listened to it and the people who listened to it with me.

I feel fortunate to have lived and been young (and old) and a person who danced and sang along in a time when someone as gifted and unique as Prince was creating music. Not just the music he recorded, but all of his songs that other people covered. I don’t remember the first song I heard Prince sing or saw him perform, but I do have another of those “I remember the first time I heard it” stories.

When I was assistant managing a bookstore, one of our employees was a high school student who worked there afternoons and weekends. She kept telling me about her current music obsession, Sinéad O’Connor. I had no idea who that was; I hadn’t heard any of her music, but Alison was always quoting her lyrics to me. One night I was sitting in Pizza Hut–the place where Tom, Lynne, and I often took Jess and his friends when they were growing boys because of the all-you-can-eat pizza buffet–when a song came on the jukebox. I was mesmerized, something clicked, and I thought, That has to be the singer Alison’s always talking about. And that song is amazing.

It was, of course, “Nothing Compares 2 U,” and although Prince didn’t write it for O’Connor, as some people say, she certainly rode it into the stratosphere on her ascent to stardom. I doubt I knew it was a Prince song when I bought her CD I Do Not Want What I Haven’t Got, I just knew it was a great song.

I also feel fortunate that I live in the days of being able to fall down an Internet hole of online music and video whenever I want to hear or watch a legend like Prince. Nothing compares to him, and I’m sorry for all the unwritten, unrecorded music we’ll never get to hear, but so grateful for the music we have.

Recently, at the Hall, part three

This guy had a birthday. Since it fell on transport day, we had cupcakes there so some of RPM’s amazing volunteers and staff could celebrate with him. And because he’s the compassionate person he is, he asked for only one thing for his birthday: donations to Rescued Pets Movement’s Crowdrise campaign to raise funds to restructure and reopen the Jack C. Alexander clinic after much needed repairs and modifications. If you’re so inclined, you can still show your love for Timothy J. Lambert and the movement to get Houston’s million homeless dogs and cats off the streets, out of the city pound, and into homes in other states where they’re desperately wanted. You can click here to donate or learn more.

Recently, at the Hall, part two

The last two of our foster dogs I shared here were Shannon and Richie. They were adopted immediately upon their arrival in Colorado, and their rescue then asked for their brother Aiden. We picked him up from BARC and fostered him until he traveled, and he is about the sweetest boy ever, with excellent manners, and was a great playmate to all the Houndstooth hounds, falling on the scale somewhere between Shannon’s shyness and Richie’s more boisterous nature. Like his siblings, Aiden was adopted as soon as he arrived in Colorado.

Our next foster was Noah. He’s a little bigger than the dogs we usually bring home, and he is AMAZING. I think this may be the first time all of us fell hard for a dog. He proved himself so trustworthy as a houseguest that we didn’t even crate him at night, letting him have the run of the Hall, though he didn’t object to a crate at all. He loved our dogs, Debby’s dogs, and Tim’s dogs. It was challenging not to be a foster failure and beg to keep him. However, without RPM’s Colorado (and Wisconsin, Toronto, and Minnesota) partners, over 14,000 of Houston’s homeless dogs and cats would be dead. Their rescuers work hard to find them homes, and we agree to let them go to them. Like the others, Noah was adopted quickly upon his arrival in Denver.

I decided maybe we should stop fostering dogs I wished we could keep. Since I’m not really a scruffy or foofie dog person, I thought a Pomeranian mix might be a safer bet: small enough for our dogs to enjoy but not the kind of dog I’m usually drawn to. Ha, Universe! Enter Mitzi. If there exists a perfect dog, Mitzi is it. She is probably the best-behaved, best-natured, easiest dog we’ve fostered since Betsy way back in 2014 at The Compound. She loved every dog and every person, had immaculate manners, barked only twice the entire time she was with us–once because she was excited at mealtime and once to get some petting–and it was just as hard to say goodbye to her as to any of the fantastic dogs we’ve fostered. Pom lovers are nodding their heads knowingly, I’m sure.

And then came Churro. He fit in perfectly with our pack. You can’t see the dark stripe down his back in this photo, but it makes him as cute as can be, along with those ears. You probably do notice his cherry eyes–the red in the inside corners. These are prolapsed third eyelids, and his Colorado rescue will get the easy surgery to fix them. Churro left this past transport day, and I think he may be the one Anime and Delta miss most. He was a lot like a bratty brother, always poking at them and making them play, and they loved him. He kept me laughing the entire time he was here–a wiggling, happy boy who could also curl up with Tom and be the perfect lapdog. Even Lynne’s dog Paco didn’t mind having Churro next to him, and Paco pretty much dislikes any dog who gets on the recliner with Tom.

As hard as it is to say goodbye to the funny, loving, frisky dogs in our care, we know they’re going to great homes. And it makes Houndstooth Hall available to the next one who needs a soft place to land before traveling to a forever family. As with any rescue dog, we get so much more from them than we can ever give. Happy lives, sweet foster kids. You all deserve the loving, lucky families who adopt you.