And I let them go thirsty…

Yesterday, our friend Lindsey called Tim to let us know that her father was collecting clothes to take to the Astrodome for the people being relocated here from New Orleans. She and Rhonda knew that we were feeling helpless and asked if we wanted to donate. OF COURSE! And I called my mother, who went through her clothes, too.

As soon as Lindsey and Rhonda found out we had some boxes for them, they jumped in the not-so-trusty truck and drove over to pick them up, even though they’d just gotten home from the gym. And could we just give them the clothes?

No, we had to abuse them. First, River took a flying leap of joy from the front porch to do a body block on Rhonda, who doesn’t weigh much more than River. Clearly, he thought she needed some love. Fortunately, Lindsey had managed to evade his exuberant welcome, but then she made the mistake of stepping inside, where she was greeted by the “We never get any attention, please touch us NOW” reactions of Margot and Guinness, who basically treated her body like a ladder that needed immediate climbing.

Further, just to show that no good deed goes unpunished, even though I KNEW they’d just left the gym, it never occurred to me to offer them a beverage.

Rhonda and Lindsey, tell me what to stock in my refrigerator. I keep water, sugar-free lemonade, Coke C2, and Diet Coke. But I’ll put whatever you like to drink in there and WILL NEVER SO SHAMEFULLY NEGLECT YOU AGAIN.

Meanwhile, kudos to you two and to Lindsey’s father for making it possible for us to help in some way.

P.S. Most of those clothes came from Tom. Who knew my husband had been such a clothes hoarder all these years?

The Story Rolling Stone Won’t Touch

Blues Dogs members Cry-Me-A-River Dog and Guinness “Fedbelly” Dog continue to deny rumors of a band split. At press time, Margot “Howlin'” Dog was unavailable for comment about what bone she has to pick with her band mates. Sources close to Howlin’ deny that she called Cry-Me and Fedbelly “nuthin’ but hound dogs” and blamed Cry-Me’s liver problems for a downturn in Blues Dogs’ fortunes.

File photo of Howlin’ Dog.


You know, in going back through Tim’s LJ archives, it occurs to me that we never told you one of the happy endings.

The fogging, the constant vacuuming, and the beneficial nematodes (thanks, Mother Nature) did the trick.

It’s no longer a flea circus around here.

Walking in the rain with the one I love

Scene 1 from the Home Office window:

Tim and River walking up the driveway in a light drizzle so River can make the yard his own personal toilet.

Scene 2 from the Home Office window:

Tim and River jumping puddles as they scurry down the driveway when the drizzle quickly becomes a downpour.

Flashback scene:

Earlier today, as I was cleaning up three dogs’ own personal toilets, Guinness snagged a rat, who promptly squealed in terror. I shrieked and Margot hustled to get a piece of that, then Guinness lost her grip. I don’t know what happened to the rat, but both dogs seem fine.