Fleetingly Carol

"The hardest part was yet to come." It's been a while since I checked in. I hope everything is well with you, Dear Reader. Things seem to be calming down in our little corner of the world. "The hardest part" that was "yet to come" has come and gone. And Princess and I have been busy ever since. Old Man, Younger Son and Awesome Grandson made certain that Princess was safe that awful night. The next morning, I went out to the dog run to see how Princess was doing. Since the storm was gone, she was considerably more calm. She allowed me to check the pads on her front paws. Everything checked out alright. Then, I couldn't help it, Dear Readers, but I fussed and fussed and fussed, then hugged and petted the poor puppy. Wagging tail, licking tongue, wiggling body all told me that the fear from last night was gone. I put the leash on her, and she was so very happy as we exited her pen and began to run. The first task is to teach her to behave

The Devil had passed, but not Princess’ memory of him. She stayed with the shakes, like the DTs. She shook so violently inside the crate, I was afraid for her.  The wild dog came out in her as we tried to approach the crate to check on her wounds. We couldn’t open it for fear that she would escape and try to dig a hole in the floor or couch again. Old Man and I decided it was time to call Eldest Son. He told us that if we couldn’t keep her, call him. We couldn't and we did. Eldest Son had just lost his job, his car was repossessed and was in no way able to come to our aid. He lived several states away. We talked and we cried. We came up with this solution and that solution, but none were acceptable. He finally said the most feared words, words that I knew were coming, but didn’t want to accept. He had a friend who practiced veterinary medicine and who lived close to us. Eldest Son said he would make the call. As we were talking, Eldest Son was on speaker-phone so Old Man cou

         The trees did their voodoo dance, conjuring up a thunderstorm to rain down on our little house. Old Man was on the lawn tractor, completely oblivious to the warning signs, ears plugged up with strains of Satchmo. The first drops of rain on his glasses sent him into action.           He drove the lawn mower across the yard and into the shed, hopped off and ran to Poor Hound Dog who is being treated for heart worms. He wanted to get him into the house before he became too excited about the Devil bearing down. He glanced in Princess Super-girl's pen to make sure she was secure and safe. Leading Poor Hound Dog across the yard, Old Man remembered the windows were down in his truck. Remembering the windows down in his truck led him to look over at the neighbor’s vehicle to check their windows. They were down. Now it was a race to the finish.            Poor Hound Dog had to be kept very calm, because any active behavior may break up a clump of heart worms in his veins tha

Eldest son gave Old Man and me a gift that keeps on giving. And, for no reason! It wasn't Christmas, an anniversary or either of our birthdays. My mother would say he's awfully 'thoughty'. And it was a tremendous gift! One that I would not have ever thought to get for myself. The gift is about 2 feet tall and weighs around 45 to 50 pounds. It leaps tall buildings and stops a speeding bullet. No, that's not right. It leaps hurricane fences and scales 6 foot tall dog runs. And stops at nothing to get in the house when someone is shooting a gun, or there is thunder, or the door is open, or another dog has entered the house. Any of these reasons. Yes, you've guessed it - it's a dog. A Catahoula Leopard Dog, to be exact! Old Man and I already have 2 dogs. Girlie-Girl is a 25 pound Heinz 57 and looks like a big Miniature Pincher. She is very well behaved, never jumps up on people; she doesn't bark much; she's small and compact; she comes when she

     It was Old Man's birthday the other day. He turned old as dirt. He was old as rocks only a few years ago. And before that by a few years, he was old as boulders. So, his favorite birthday cake is carrot cake. Now, I suppose I could go to the local bakery and buy a nice carrot cake, but I had the time off, so I thought I would delight him with my culinary skills. I do not possess many skills needed in the kitchen, but I can make a mean carrot cake.    Having baked the cake, I skimped on dinner - I ordered delivery pizza. Old Man is married to Old Woman. I no longer want to put that much time into cooking a meal that will be eaten in ten minutes.      The carrot cake was impeccable. It was moist, fluffy, and smelled of spices and carrots. Old Man arrived home, and after the succulent odors accosted his nostrils, he praised his wife's culinary skills! And pronounced that he would eat the carrot cake this very minute to prove his elation over this most mouthwatering of bir

This frigid weather and George II nestled in my lap, a furry ball of feline keeping me warm, reminds me of his predeccessor (but not related) and how we came to be adopted by her. We used to, when Old Man was Young Man, and the kids were little and all, live in an apartment complex that was 3 stories high, no elevater and each apartment opened out into a common stairwell. Two apartments shared each landing and the stairwell, although not heated, was closed to the elements. Which, at this time of year was good because the city in which we lived was being strangeld by a blizzard, much as the country was a day or two ago. In the middle of this frightful blizzard, I heard a child crying and it seemed to be coming from the stairwell. After checking to make sure my own children were ok, I went looking for who could possibly be making that noise, only to find a half-starved, almost frozen tabby whose meows sounded like the baby I thought I heard. I knew no one in the stairwell owned a cat

"Carol, you need to come home right away." "What's the matter, Old Man?" The quiver in his voice is spine-tingling. Old Man never quivers. "Just come home. You need to be here." I tell Aunt Mildred that something is wrong at home, I don't know what. "You all can stay here tonight. I have 2 extra bedrooms." "Thank you, Aunt Mildred," I answer, "But, I don't know what the problem is. We may have to take you up on that offer. I'll call you later tonight." I get to my car as quickly as possible, fearing the worst. As I drive up in the driveway, I see Old Man struggling with a small tarp. Now, I am thoroughly confused. I park the car so that my headlights shine on his work. "What's up?" I ask, "Why do you need the tarp right away?" Old Man looks really, really old. He looks up and tells me he's covering the windshield of his pickup to prevent ice from accumulating. You see