Mac

Some of you know the story of Mac, the incredible white German shepherd my ex-husband rescued for me when we lost our oldest son to cancer.

That dog brought me back to life and saved me when I was at my lowest, deepest point of suffering.

Mac died when he fell out my truck window onto Highway 80 when the boys and I were coming home from a camping trip.

I remember watching him fall in my rearview mirror and also seeing my 60 pound, 7 year old son desperately trying to hold on to him.

I thought that perhaps my son was falling out the window too.

You can’t imagine the horror I experienced.

My son stayed safely in the car but sadly, Mac was killed while getting off the freeway (10 years to the day after my oldest son died).

We’d just finished up a LOVELY vacation at the Yuba River with my Uncle Donald, Aunt Stacey, and my cousins Jennifer, Travis, Bella, Matt, and Nick.

It was amazing.

Today, I was reminded that when it was my turn to swing on the rope and fall 8 feet into the water, I was chicken.

I didn’t want to jump.

And Mac stood by my side and waited with me while I worked up the courage. . .

And JUMPED!

And only after I jumped did he follow suit and jump in with me.

He was an amazing dog.

And I feel lucky that I somehow managed to take this picture of him THE VERY MORNING OF THE DAY HE DIED.

The last picture I ever took of him.

And I’d like to think that in the afterlife, he is playing in the water, in the sun, surrounded by family.

I love you Mac.  You are not forgotten!

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Dogs make me bold

wendygirlGenerally, I am fairly shy when it comes to approaching men because:

  1. I don’t know if they like me, and
  2. I’m never sure if they’re single.

The two notable exceptions to this rule are:

When I stood on the seat in a hot tub to show a male friend my hip tattoos, thereby thrusting my naked crotch in his face, and

When I told a guy (on a dare) in a bar in downtown San Jose that I was going to go home and masturbate thinking about him. That got his attention QUICK!

In any case, for the most part I let the men do the approaching but I’ve discovered something that makes me bold and eases the way for me to approach a man.

Dogs.

Yes, dogs.

I have a dog. A big white German shepherd named Wendy who is literally the most rambunctious dog I’ve ever had. I heart her.

The other day, I saw a profile pic for another burner, someone I’d never met. He was handsome and his profile pic included – get this – a WHITE GERMAN SHEPHERD.

Yes folks, we own clones of each other’s dogs.

So I clicked on his profile.

Single.

So I clicked to add him as a friend.

And he added me!

Woot!

So now we’re friends.

Then, I was surfing through the South Bay Beer Hounds posts when I came across a guy with black dogs. The polar opposite of what I have.

And I was smitten with those pooches. Plus the guy was rather good looking as well.

So I added him as a friend and explained that I liked his dogs when he added me back.

Unfortunately during the conversation he conspicuously used the pronoun “WE” which let me know he’s not single, but hey… more friends is always a good thing.

So there you have it.

Dogs make me bold.

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The post where my dog ALMOST got attacked

I took Wendy for a walk in my neighborhood.

I was across the street from a house with people out front. Their golden retriever was off leash and decided to bark at Wendy and charge the edge of the property. I kept Wendy walking forward. She looked at the other dog but she didn’t react. She’s learning her manners. A month ago Wendy would not have ignored the challenge. She would have inflicted some serious damage to the retriever.

Then… I KID YOU NOT…. the owner of the retriever actually COMPLIMENTED his dog for charging us.

Really.

I would NEVER, EVER compliment my dog for displaying aggression. And I would be horrified if she charged someone taking their dog for a walk past my house.

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Because I have a wicked streak, I was half tempted to march Wendy across the street…

“Hello there stupid golden retriever, meet my fearless german shepherd!”

Of course, that would be very bad for Wendy’s training, but don’t think I haven’t mentally berated that owner for being an idiot.

Hula hoops and swimming pools

I have been trying and trying to hula hoop and failing miserably.

Honest.

I went outside and hooped for 20 minutes straight and couldn’t get that fucking hula hoop to go around me.

It would drop to the ground within seconds.

Well, Tuesday evening Breaker came over to my house and fixed all that.

He took one look at my hula hoop, told me it was way too advanced for me, and got me started hooping on one of his hoops. My hoop is the smallest in the pic below:

FullSizeRender(10)You can imagine my relief when I found myself capable of hula hooping.

I learned to hula hoop around my waist, around my hand, around my body. I learned to move while I hula hooped… not easy, btw.

After all the hooping, Breaker showed me some of his moves.

IMG_7034It’s rather incredible to see a hoop performance. It requires balance and timing and excellent hooping skills. I was impressed that after only 45 minutes, Breaker had me hooping like I knew what I was doing.

Sort of.

Anyhow, after the hoop lesson, Breaker and I took to the pool and floated around in the bathtub-like water while the sun slowly set behind us.

IMG_7041We talked about relationships, the playa, and Burning Man.

Breaker had clever insights into my own struggles and I found his company very charming and witty.

My darling dog Wendy finally figured out a way into the pool by going under the fence, and she joined us for a swim.

Finally, my boys came out to cover the pool and Breaker and I went inside to continue our chat.

All in all, it was a great evening with wonderful company. I greatly admire Breaker’s talent with hula hoops and I hope I progress myself to be able to put on a show for my friends and loved ones at Burning Man.

First step is to get a decent hula hoop for me to use.

Anyone know where I can get one?

She’s crafty!

I know this is very exciting for all of you.

I can scarce contain myself as well.

You see, this weekend I took a class on how to crochet.

Now I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that it’s not like me at all to do something quite so domestic.

Well, I’ll have you know I have quite the domestic side to me – I like to cook (when I have time), and quilt (when I have money), and knit (when I have a boyfriend).

I guess a little explaining is in order… the only thing I know how to knit is the Boyfriend Hat by Stephanie Likes to Knit. Therefore I knit when I have a boyfriend to make a hat for. So far, I’ve only made two.

‘Nuff said.

Here is the lovely yarn shop in Santa Cruz where I learned to crochet.

Here is the lovely shop pooch who kept me company while I struggled with my piece.

And here is my GODAWFUL piece, dropped stitches and all.

Try not to get too excited.

It’s not like I’m planning on quitting my day job just yet and becoming a professional crochet artist.

Though I can imagine that given a little practice I could make a pretty cool kerchief top for Burning Man.

I know! I just can’t get through a post without mentioning Burning Man.

Can you believe me?!

Don’t worry, a post on my tour of the San Francisco Armory is coming up soon.

Our wild and wicked Wendy

My sons call Wendy our demon dog. This is because she jumps on everyone, frequently knocking them down and always leaves big muddy paw prints all over them (see Exhibit A: my right breast for Christmas dinner)

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Wendy’s abundance of energy has led us to purchase a Walky Dog which we hook up to our bike so that we can run her at least 10 miles a day.

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Do not laugh young Padawan. When energy high dog you have, desperate too will you be. Walky Dog great investment in sanity mental of yours.

We took her for a 10 miles run in the Coyote Hills. We all had a great time. When we got back to the car, my youngest son complained that Wendy had pooped on his hand. I took her to the curb so she could “sniff the bushes” and low and behold, THIS came out of her.

Yes, I snapped a picture of my dog’s crap. It was sludgy and impressively green. And I knew I was going to blog it.

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But the part of this story which you are REALLY going to love is that part where I had to slip on a pair of latex gloves from our first aid kit so that I could take a sanitizing wipe and WIPE MY DOG’S ASS.

Because there was no way I was going to let her sludgy butt back in my car to emboss green starfish on my backseat or my children.

And last but not least, here’s a clip of Wendy showering us with her love. What a sweetie!

The beast who owns my heart

No doubt there was no room for Edward because my heart is firmly held by Wendy, my adorable, loveable, hyperactive, wild, and wicked dog.

Wendy was rescued from the Tri-Valley Animal Shelter in 2008. She’s a purebred white German shepherd who was dumped in a field to fend for herself.

Since both my dogs were rescue dogs, and have turned into great family dogs, I encourage all of you to rescue a shelter dog and give a loving home to a dog that needs it.

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