Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Walking Miss Daisy

Day 12: Toot! Toot
I sat down last night to try and write this blog and decided that I was too cranky and tired and from there on out I would write my blogs in the morning when I had a little bit rosier view of my world. Well, guess what? It's morning and I'm still cranky. Probably because I jumped out of bed at 5:30 am after only 6.5 hours of sleep because I was surfing this powerful urge (moderation talk for resisting the urge to drink) and I finally gave in and headed downstairs. No, I didn't pour me a red-eye glass of wine, my powerful urge was to watch the sunrise over the Golfo. I guess I missed too many sunrises due to hangovers and now I'm trying to play catch up. I'm sorry I keep dwelling on how great life is without hangovers but when they have been the bane of your existence, your affliction, for 20+ years it's feels almost as if you've found the miracle cure for the common cold when you discover there is a way to actually live hangover free.
But anyway…I was going to write about what a wonderful alcohol free weekend I had but I'm too grumpy and I want to be in a happy mood when I write about that. So I've decided to write about another affliction I've acquired. Daisy. Daisy is my foster/time-share/fractional ownership dog. Stray dogs are a phenomenal problem down here SOB (South of the Border). It is heartbreaking to see these dogs with their ribs showing, covered with mange and usually surrounded by puppies everywhere so about a month ago when a plea went out on facebook to rescue this dog whose caretaker was going back NOB and was going to have to surrender the dog to a shelter (I shudder when I imagine what dog shelters are like down here), I cratered. I've always been able to resist adopting one of these dogs before because I'm only down here for 6 months and the cap'n and I have vowed that once Stanley, the killer blind bichon, goes to that big butt sniffing doggy park in the sky we are traveling pet free. But then…one of the crazies (our fellow Texan expats) volunteered to keep Daisy part of the time when we weren't down here so now we are looking for a third party to timeshare or fractionally own, or whatever the hell they are calling timesharing these days, Daisy. I was immediately very impressed with how smart Daisy was. She was potty trained, that scores big doggy IQ points with me. At first she would only go to the bathroom in our flowerbeds, which is the only place in our "compound" that has vegetation. After a couple of days she had learned that for us, her new human beans, our flowerbeds were not a viable option so out came the leash and she gladly did her business outside our gates. I bragged to everybody about how well trained she was. Since she was just a temporary guest and I didn't want her to get too attached to us (actually it was the other way around, I didn't want to get too attached to her) she was relegated to our enclosed back porch because the main house is Stanley's domain. I kinda hoped that maybe she could act as Stanley's seeing-eye dog but after a few snarling snaps at each other to establish territorial boundaries they co-exist in a state of respectful animosity. Kind of like the cap'n and I. LOL! Well, sometimes.
Eventually, she wormed her way into our hearts and into the house where she promptly "shat" on the floor. Yet another event handled better without a hangover. Her house privileges were immediately suspended so this morning I was out at 5:30 a.m. herding her back and forth down the calle (street) where she refused to do her "business" until the third trip which caused me to miss my sunrise over the water. Which made me even crankier!
Anybody interested in ½ fractional ownership in dog of, I'm sure, very noble heritage and meticulous personal habits. ;) ?
So today I'm out there doing my best to find the cure for common crankiness and still thanking God for ibuprofen for my aching foot.

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