Remains of the day

Friday was one of those days when I did so many varied things that I feel like I never caught my breath. I even had a post planned, but not only didn’t I have time to write it, I haven’t read all my e-mail today, I’m not sure I’ve ever pulled up Facebook or Twitter, and I haven’t checked out most of my daily online reads.

I really like Dexter, Tim’s foster dog of this week (and maybe longer; who knows). He’s Tyson’s brother, and half the time I call him Tyson. I also call him Baxter, Butcher, and any other word that pops into my mind. In all the dogs’ best safety interests, Tim’s been keeping him somewhat sequestered. I was working on my craft project outside, and the day was gorgeous, so I didn’t feel like sticking the dogs indoors. I decided it was a now-or-never kind of thing, and let Dexter and Rex be free outside together, now that they’ve had a few days to get used to sharing space. They had a blast, thank goodness, but I was ready should they have needed some intervention. Since it went so well, I let Margot and Guinness join them outside. Margot gave him her standoffish treatment, and Guinness had to bark at him occasionally. Neither dog fazed him. He has too many other things to explore to worry about a couple of cranky females. Like–oh joy! He and I stumbled onto a murder scene. The victim was a bird, and we must have almost caught the killer just after the act. There were feathers everywhere. My money’s on Sniper Cat, the one who sits on Tim’s roof.

All the dogs kept me company while I worked outside. Then later, inside, Dexter and Rex traded a bone back and forth without getting mad at each other. Dexter and I played tug-of-war with a rope toy. He sits when asked, but is still learning to lie down and come when called. Once Tom and Tim were home for the evening and we were ready to eat dinner, Tim brought both Rex and Dexter over, which was a first. I’m sure he was happy; he hates being left alone, as did Tyson. I believe Tim said they were neglected as puppies, so that makes sense. Hopefully he’ll find his ideal forever home, just the way Tyson and EZ did.

This weekend is going to be hectic, with all of us having obligations pulling us in different directions, but I’m hoping to find time to do that post–with photos of the now-completed Mystery Project. I hope everyone else has a fun and relaxing weekend planned and/or gets over their various illnesses.

Is that slug I smell?

I’d love to fill you in on the frenetic and fascinating things going on in my life, but I just realized that I FORGOT to have a frenetic and fascinating life. Damn.

I do have a creative project in the works; photos to come.

This is assuming I can actually muster up the energy to do the project. I sit at my desk or lie in bed at night for hours, wide awake, trying to figure out what I want to write and if I even have a writing career anymore. Then during the day, I could literally sleep for twelve hours without moving if life would allow it.

Life doesn’t allow it, however, so when all things align exactly right, I’m still going to the gym, the post office, the grocery store, and the bank. Between napping, reading (at last count, I’d read sixty-five books over the last ten months), and avoiding housework, I have long conversations with the dogs. I don’t know if those conversations are as boring as this post, but the dogs seem okay as long as I don’t sing.

Funny, they never complain when Tim sings.

Happy Tails

Today Tim took The Compound Dogs to Happy Tails Dog Spa for the Annual Charity Dog Wash. This year, the dog wash benefited Miniature Schnauzer Rescue of Houston. Happy Tails is also a vital part of the great work done by Scout’s Honor, rescuers of Tim’s former foster dogs EZ, Tyson, and Gypsy.

Some Compound dogs seem to have appreciated the event…

more than others…

Button Sunday

I’ve been wanting to use this button for a long time.

I’m a Quilt Diva not because I quilt. This Aries doesn’t have the patience for that kind of detailed work and delayed gratification.

But I love quilts. This is a composite of sections of all my quilts.


The big one in the center is from my late friend Jeff. One is from my late friend Steve R, who got it from his deceased partner, whose grandmother made it. Four of the quilts are from my mother (she didn’t make them, but bought them and gifted them to me over the years). I found the little pigs in an antique shop; they were made from quilts over a hundred years old. The rest of the quilts Tom and I have collected during our twenty-plus years together.

The quilts are on beds in our house and Tim’s apartment. Some of them hang. Some are part of pillows or table runners. Some are folded in stacks on our window seat. Nothing (except food) makes Margot happier than when I drag a quilt to the couch or the bed for a nap. She snuggles under it, or lies on top of it with her head resting on my ankles. Guinness lies next to it. A few days ago, Tim came over while I was sleeping and whispered to the dogs to come outside. He said they pretended they had to stay in and guard me. But I know they’re just Quilt Divas, too.

Day 5, Note 2 from a Slug: This Magic Moment

It amuses me when Tom buys a big batch of chicken feet to add to the dogs’ raw food because it feels like we have Voodoo Kitchen. I tried to take a picture of Margot and Guinness eating their chicken feet, but there’s not a camera fast enough to capture such a snackfest.

As you know, Tim is dogsitting EZ for a few days while her forever person is out of town. Since EZ doesn’t play well with other dogs, Rex spends his days over here. Don’t pity him. Sure, he doesn’t get to hang out with Tim, but it’s like going to Grandma’s house. Here, he gets TREATS, including not only a chicken’s foot, but his usual spoonful of yogurt while the girls are eating their dinner. When he finishes, he’ll have a temporary yogurt goatee, but even CSI wouldn’t be able to find a trace of yogurt on that spoon.


Lucky dog.

The best little hospital room in Texas

I did a lot of napping Saturday because I needed it. I was hoping to get “that” call from Tim: the one in which he said, I’M FREE! PICK ME UP! Sadly, it didn’t come. But he did spend several hours today without having his chest cavity suctioned and seemed to respond well. Maybe tomorrow they can take out the chest tubes and release him.

Meanwhile, Tyson is having a slumber party weekend. Another potential forever family wanted him to spend a couple of days with them to see how they get along together. As before, this is bittersweet. Tyson is such a freaking adorable dog that while I want him to find the perfect home, not having him here is sad, too. Hopefully if they do decide he’s right for them, Tim will be able to see him later so they can have a proper au revoir moment.


Rexford and Tyson

It was a kind of weird Valentine’s Day. Tom did maintenance-type stuff in Tim’s apartment. Then while I went to spend the evening with Tim in the hospital, Lindsey came to The Compound to give Rhonda some good snoozing alone time because she’s so sick. Thus Tom and Lindsey ate dinner together. When I asked Tom if Rhonda and Lindsey were disappointed about Valentine’s Day, he told me Lindsey said every day’s like Valentine’s Day for them. I thought that was pretty sweet. Me: I’m grateful for days when nothing much happens around here except hanging out without mosquitoes, hurricanes, heat waves, trips to the people or animal ER, or palmetto bugs.

Tom sent Tim a card and some chocolate, and I got him a puzzle for us to work on when he gets home. I’ll save a photo of that for later. I also took Tim a surprise visitor dressed in sexy Valentine’s Day finery.


Dolly sits on Tim’s knee and says, “Hey, ever’body!”


Nothing says Backwoods Barbie like a giant hospital urinal in the background.

Dolly’s fabulous shoes provided courtesy of Mark G. Harris.

Delayed Hump Day Happy

This right here is someone I like to call Oh No, I Would NEVER Keep You Awake All Night With My Crying and Barking.

Tyson sleeps in a crate at night because he can’t be trusted not to make an appetizer of electrical cords. This is never a problem at Tim’s. Thursday night when Tim went in the hospital, Tyson and Rex stayed at Tim’s with Greg, and Greg said Rex was fine, but Tyson had a little trouble falling asleep. Since Tyson was going to adoption day on Saturday, we moved his crate over here and he spent Friday night with us. He whimpered a few times, but nothing serious. Saturday night, I didn’t put them in their crates until 4 a.m., and they were too tired to care. Sunday night, Tyson barked and cried all night long, so Monday night, I just shut all four dogs in the room with us and let them sleep uncrated because I was too exhausted to listen to him.

When I told Tim what was going on, he said Tyson was upset because he couldn’t SEE us. So we moved Rex’s and Tyson’s crates into our bedroom, intending to let the boys sleep in their crates and Margot and Guinness sleep with us (as usual). This left us with only a small path to move through our bedroom, plus we have to keep one of the bedroom doors closed to make room for a super size crate. But we don’t care because it worked. The barking and crying stopped.

Now Rex and Tyson actually want to get in their crates, but they keep getting taken over by squatters. Today, I intended to do a bunch of stuff, including taking a nap. Guinness and Margot stretched out together in Rex’s crate, Rex curled up against my back, and Tyson had my legs pinned down in case I tried to escape.

He needn’t have worried. When I went to the hospital early this morning, Tim looked fantastic. While I was there, they moved him out of ICU and into a room. He’s on serious pain medication and is very sleepy, so I’m staying away in hopes that he can get rest. He’s doing really, really well. Later, I’m taking back his gum, Jolly Ranchers, phone charger, jammies of his own to wear, and whatever else will fit in my backpack.

Yesterday, I spent most of the day looking at this:

Except sometimes when the door would open and I’d see things like this:

Tim isn’t visible behind a curtain at the end of that long hall, but I could see his anesthesiologist and assistants giving him his thoracic epidural. A few vertebrae lower, and he could have given birth.

Speaking of babies…

That’s the baby from the King Cake Greg brought us last week from New Orleans. They can no longer put the baby IN the cake (lawsuits!), so they sort of stick it under the cake. Anyway, I didn’t eat so many slices of King Cake because it was delicious and I’m a hog. I did it to find the baby. Except Greg found it. Now the baby can find YOU something to be happy about–OTHER than Tim’s recovery and Tyson’s restful nights–from this book if you comment with a page number between 1 and 611, and another number between 1 and 25.

A Tim update

In 2007, when Tim was in the hospital, he let me take a few photos. When I was in his room Thursday night, going through a bag he usually hauls around with him, I found his camera. When my eyes lit up, he said, “NO.” But if you ever think I’m a wonderful friend, let me dispel that with what I did when he was helpless while phoning home yesterday:

His room looks over the entrance to the Houston Zoo. If anything escapes, we’ll be in the perfect spot to watch the drama unfold. He also has a view of the downtown skyline. At least he does if he sits up, scoots down, and can focus through the pain (pausing for groan at the pun):

Apparently, X-rays show that his lung keeps trying to collapse again. This is the reason for surgery, which has now been rescheduled for Monday afternoon. They are removing scarred parts of his lung and assure him he won’t even miss them. Then they are attaching his lung to his chest wall so it won’t collapse again. It sounds like a good time to me!

I spent the afternoon with him yesterday and am about to see him again before Greg’s signing. Friday evening, Rhonda and Lindsey arrived at the hospital with Greg and a care package containing movies, gum, magazines, and an electronic device with some word games (which he told me on the phone last night he likes). After he received the wrong dinner (all liquids), they finally delivered a cheeseburger and fries. I don’t know if it was any good, but he scarfed it down. We left him in good spirits, considering. I know it was nice for him to see something other than hospital walls and my old face for a change.

Note to Tim stalkers: There’s a policeman stationed outside Tim’s room 24/7. We suspect one of his roommates may be entangled with the law in some way. Tim really should write a group of short stories detailing the colorful cast of characters he’s met on his two stays in this hospital.

I arrived home last night to the best evening ever. Greg had spent the afternoon making his fantastic potato and leek soup. Rhonda and Lindsay and Tom made a big salad. All the dogs were fed and happy. We ate, watched Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist, and Lindsey baked cookie brownies which she and Tom served up hot with scoops of Blue Bell vanilla ice cream. I suspect we had a better night than Tim. Well, most of us did. Then there were the ones who don’t understand why he doesn’t come home:

Sad Rex curling up next to Greg.

Tyson ignoring toys.

For those who asked, you can send cards to Timothy J. Lambert, P.O. Box 131845, Houston, TX, 77219. Thank you again to everyone who’s been checking on him.