Rolling With the Punches "Cotton Style"

It's been quite a week. I started my new job last Saturday and worked there again on Sunday.  Monday morning I was a server again and have worked all week. It was nice to do something different for two days to break up the monotony as well as the job is no where near as physically exhausting.

The restaurant has been steady all week and the tipping gods have smiled on me. My dear sis floated me a loan for a week and all was peachy til my stinking oven went out.  When I was a kid an oven would last twenty five or thirty years.  Mine's broken three times in under sixteen years and was brand new when we bought the house. I gave it two days, thinking maybe it just had the flu and didn't feel like working. I tried several times to light the pilot with my fingers crossed to no avail. I called a repairman who I used years ago for my washing machine. He was an appliance repairman for Sears for decades and now just does side jobs in his retirement.

Must be nice, the only thing I will be doing at  this rate after my retirement is heading to the funeral home to have my makeup done for my farewell party. Actually I am going to be cremated so guess I'll just head straight for the bon fire!

Ziggy  has continued to  find an  escape route out of the yard at least once a day. I've been working every day and patching his escape holes when I can. First day I have off I'm going to buy another roll of wire and run the length of the top of the back fence. That will make the fence over seven feet high. Dang, the boy's a jumper. Six feet is nothing to him. When I  go to open the back kitchen door he gets so excited. He puts his paw on Charlie's back seemingly to push fatty out of the way when the door opens  and once out the door, leaps like a deer over the mud surrounding the back deck. He bounces like Tigger to the back of the yard and if a squirrel or rabbit happens to be frolicking on the other side of the wire fence he clears it in one attempt in  a split second with such grace it's hard to be mad at  the little demon.

He ate a pair of my earrings today. There's another dollar wasted at the  Dollar Tree. I hope they weren't real pearls.

Ziggy has gotten better since we got the crate. When we all have to leave the house we put him in it. He isn't thrilled at  first but every  time we come back home he is laying down and doesn't even get up til we unlatch  the crate. I went to work the other day and walked by  the "Crate Room." (Massey's old bedroom) All three idiots were just standing inside of it. Well, Charlie was stretched out on the floor of it but Ziggy and Ham were both in there too. Go figure?? I've caught them doing that several times since and need to snap a picture. It's like they are saying "We like our Crib."

So it seems my oven wasn't on strike or mad at me for not using him enough but was actually broke. I looked at him  and said "Welcome to my world."

 The repairman came this morning and took his innards out in emergency surgery. He left to get  the new part...the ONLY part.  Dang, there ain't much TO an oven in  the way of parts. He returned an hour later and replaced the part. My ole boy fired right up!

Yesterday I put together baked beans and put two pork tenderloins in a pan and took  them to work with me three o'clock. I had the cooks put them in the oven and Massey  came by the restaurant at  four when she got out of school to pick up dinner.  Yes I am a resourceful momma...especially when we are out of bologna and fish sticks.

When the oven doctor doctor  told me today the part might be around a hundred dollars before he left to go get it, I got nervous. I had sixty bucks in cash and nine dollars in my checking account. When he left to go get the part I came clean with him. I told him I could give him sixty bucks and could my husband post date a check for Friday, when he gets paid? He was so nice and said that was fine...makes me wonder if he reads my blog?   I gave him the cash and the check and you know what? He said "How about I wait til Monday to deposit the check?" I told him  to take all  the time he wanted!

To  some I may seem pitiful. To me I feel blessed.

Went into work again today at three...had a rough shift and came home thinking "How am I gonna make this happen?" The kids had cleaned and vacuumed and even done the laundry.  There on the kitchen table was an envelope addressed to me.

Thinking it was a bill, I opened it to see who wanted money now,  and low and behold it was a stub telling me I had a direct  deposit from my new job last weekend going in at midnight. (Dang! I had forgot about that!)  It was just enough to cover Mr. Oven's surgery , gas money for the weekend and some grub for the house. I can even pay my sis back!

Here is my my point. Never give up...never quit trying...and never be ashamed to accept offers of help. You can always pay it forward when you are able and always SHOULD. Trust me...I will!

It's crazy. When I think we are gonna sink and go under, we are lifted at  the last minute. When I fret about how we are going to make it happen...It happens.

I'm back  to working seven  days a week but it is such a breeze now. Two relaxed days at my new job and five sometimes demanding days at my old one. I've finally gotten smart and simply rest until I have to get up and get things done. When the kids were little I worked seven days a week for six years just to keep  them in the school district I wanted. I did that for them. I'm doing THIS for me.

You wait and see...It's gonna happen for us.

Til next  time...COTTON
 

The Happiest Bad Dog in the World

This was Ziggy  the first day we  brought him home. He was so little and cute!  He learned his pecking order quickly and still knows it.

He has grown into a lanky jumping gazelle with a Tasmanian Devil twist. Who needs a garbage disposal with Ziggy around? Not us! He's eaten flip flops and shoes. He's eaten tubes of  tooth paste,  at least a dozen potatoes three onions and at least three loaves of bread. Three remote controls, two razors and my sewing kit full of pins and needles (and lived to tell  the story). He's eaten at least three books...the latest was one my sister loaned me.

My sister came by  tonight while I was at work to pick up her book and posted this picture of it on her Facebook with  the caption "Got the book back I loaned my sister, if anyone wants to read or chew on 'The Chaperone' just let me know."

I called her when I got home from work and said not to be mad at Ziggy, I think he read it to Ham because Ham can't see. Ziggy's just a helper, plain and simple!

When we all have to leave the house for more than ten minutes, we now leave him in a crate we borrowed from a friend. It's saved what is LEFT of my house.

He's not crazy about it yet but doesn't go bonkers. We put his dog bed in it and he caught on quickly. He hasn't peed or messed in it, which is more than I can say for the rest of my house and as you  can see the crate is big enough to leave Zach in there with him too!

Ziggy is a pest, especially to Ham and Charlie.  I know it's just because he is still a puppy but keep waiting for  the day I walk upstairs to the spare bedroom where we keep  the crate and find Ham and Charlie have crawled inside the crate and pulled the door shut just to get away from Ziggy.

Then there is the fence issue at  the back of our yard. In the summer the woods grow through the hog wire staked up at the back of the yard. In the winter, the brush dies and Ziggy discovered the hog wire fence. It's only about four feet high and Ziggy can easily jump over six feet with little effort and amazing agility. A creek runs behind the fence and sixty  acres of woods beyond that. Squirrels, rabbits, foxes and deer are constantly on the other side of the fence just begging Ziggy  to come and get them...and he's all for it!

Zach and I spent over an hour today reinforcing the escape route. It lasted thirty minutes before Ziggy  found a weak link.

So he's a bad inside dog and he's a bad outside dog... and I still love the the little sh*t. Even my sister, who came by  to pick up her destroyed book told me "That's the softest, cutest, happiest bad dog I  ever met."

My nephew taught the little dummy how to shake on Christmas Day and now he shakes every time he wants something or simply wants attention. I was eating a grilled cheese sandwich today Massey made me. I was sitting on the couch in the living room and Ziggy came up to me , sat and lifted his paw and placed it on my knee as he sat drooling at my sandwich. I was getting  ready for work and had a glass of iced tea on the floor beside me while putting on make up...looked down and Ziggy  was lapping out of my glass. I popped him on the head and he sat and shakes his paw at  me...like he had forgotten to ask and felt bad about it.

Call me crazy, you certainly won't be the first but I love my pups.  I love the deaf one, I love the blind one and I even love the bad one. As bad as Ziggy can be...he loves me. I come in the door from work  and he is the first  one there! Ham comes next because he's slower now that he has to navigate his way.  Charlie is always last because the dummy can't hear or maybe like my kids simply refuses to listen.

Here's the  thing. If I am wiped out from working weeks in a row they will all climb in bed with me and not move til I do. They know when to lick my face and they know when to keep  my feet warm. They know when I am depressed and never leave my side. They never ask questions ...heck they never ask for anything but always seem grateful just for a pat on the head or scratch on the belly. They are my buddies, worth every penny I spend on them and worth every thing I have to fix (Mainly Ziggy on this one.)

My sister is having to  put her male boxer down soon ...like hours away. It's killing her and I remember feeling the same way with my boxer Rosie. (his sister)

If I'm lucky,  all my kids will live longer  than me. My pups won't. They may have wrecked my house but they never wrecked my car. They never ask for one thing but always seem  grateful for ANYTHING.

When we had to put Rosie down it was horrible. The only thing good about it was she went peacefully in our home, thanks to a friend from the humane society. My sister called my friend and are going to do the same with their boxer. Let him stay home and drift off in a familiar environment.

So I am a crazy dog loving person. I can think of a lot worse things to be.

When I totally lose my mind  and bodily functions... when the end is near, I want someone to come to my house  and simply give me a shot. I'm gonna save this woman's number. So what she does it for dogs? If I'm gonna go anyway, what do I care the shot was meant for dogs? Sounds easier than the Kevorkian way and cuts down on the legal battles.

How come people who can be so rotten live to be ninety plus and dogs who are great even when they are bad like Ziggy only live to be thirteen if they are lucky?

That's messed  up if you ask me.

This is Boss, Bear is on the left and also left us way too early. Yep, my sister's dogs were escapees too.

I am pretty low maintenance. I don't want to be in a nursing home but would prefer to GO at home.

Til next  time...feeling for my sister and her loss of the wonderful "Boss Man"  COTTON

The Pest

Our new puppy is the biggest pest my older two dogs have ever met, and I have to agree with them. No my dogs don't talk but I can see it in their eyes. Ziggy is only five months old and has more energy  than the energizer bunny on crack. His favorite one to pester is my boxer Ham.

Ham is a handsome stud of a dog. He is massive and thick and has the most gentle temperment of any male dog I have ever owned. (who still has his nuts:) His front legs are as big as my forearms and he weighs in at a muscular eighty solid pounds. He lets the other two dogs eat first, come in the house first and go out the door first. Ziggy  thinks he is a big ole chew toy and Ham lets him. Ham is blind in one eye and sometimes Ziggy catches him by surprise...I almost think Ziggy knows which is his bad eye. Every once in a while after about thirty minutes of non stop pestering, Ham will swat Ziggy back a few feet with one of his massive paws. Does that stop Ziggy? "That'd be a negative, Ghost Rider." Ziggy runs like a little deer with his long gangly legs and looks like a little black horse running in  the back yard. We're thinking about giving Ham a bone flavored medal for Christmas or changing his name to Patience or Job.

When he gets tired of pestering Ham he quickly moves on to my Bulldog, Charlie.

Charlie's not the sharpest tool in the shed by a long shot but we love the fat little guy. He's smart enough to stay away from Ziggy and hide in his man cave under my bed. When he comes out he is quickly pounced upon. Ziggy's favorite thing is to chew on Charlie's collar. (Ham wishes HE was that lucky) Ziggy has already  grown taller than Charlie, who is a low rider to put it mildly. Charlie's patience isn't as good as Ham's but they have both come around to  tolerate our little pest. That's right..."Ours."

He likes to pester all of us too. He's happy ALL the time. He's happy to see us walk in a room. HE'S happy to walk in a room. He's happy when you say his name, he's happy when you pet him and he's happy if you even just look his way. Biting is his speciality and we are all happy (including the other two dogs) that his teeth aren't as razor sharp anymore.

Yes I am an idiot, but I love these three dogs like nobody's business and in fact IS nobody elses business so I feel okay about it. Dogs just don't live long enough so I  get my dogs in stages so I will always have one. Ham is the oldest, already blind in one eye but hanging in there like a trooper. Charlie is close behind and Bullldogs are notorious for all kind of issues from hearing loss to skin allergies and obviously tiny brains.  Now we have Ziggy, who should be around to pester me well into my sixties.

Dogs are truly man's best friend.  I've owned a dog as long as I can remember and will have one until I am so demented I don't know what a dog is. They love you  unconditionally and totally. They know when you are sad and they know when you are mad. Heck...my husband can't even do  that! But he  doesn't poop on the carpet so I think I'll keep  him the longest.

 My older two dogs are totally house trained but Ziggy is definitely trying my patience.  He's almost there but best be glad that I raised four dogs and three kids in  this house before he came along. It's not a mansion and not a house that is spotless but is a house full of love and a house that cleans up pretty good when I have the time to do it.

 It's a house that has always been full of kids... yours, mine and theirs. I wouldn't have had it any other way. I can remember times when I had ten kids in my house for dinner and never thought a thing about it. I can remember when they broke windows in my house with baseballs or golf balls. Thank the Lord for double pane windows.  I can remember wrestling matches that tore bannisters off my hall steps and put holes in closet doors.  I still have a chandelier in my dining room with two missing panes (I moved them to the back side) because my oldest son stubbed his toe in the middle of the night getting up to go to  the restroom and kicked a boxing glove he had left on  the floor that flew up and hit it.

A house isn't a home until you let love, life and laughter make it one. I am lucky.

I live in a home!

Til next  time...COTTON