Big Brother to the Rescue

Last week, I received a voicemail message from some kid. After listening to the incoherent mumbles of what sounded like a 12 year old boy, I realized the message was for Avery.

Who is Avery? I haven't a clue.

Determining the youngster dialed the wrong number, I moved on. The adolescent terror did not, as the next day he called several more times. No additional were messages left, so I didn't give the calls much thought - that is, until the texting began! I was at my brother's, engaged in family holiday festivities at the time.

The typing assault went as follows:

Pisspot: Hey im crying please text me back im so sad and i i want to talk to someone
Me: u have the wrong number
Pisspot: Who is this
Me: who r you?
Pisspot: Who is this
Pisspot: Who is this!!!?
Pisspot: Whoooooooooooooo is thisssssssssssss please answer me
Pisspot: Tell me who you are nowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww
Pisspot: Tell me who you are nowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww

By now, I realized I was paying for this little pisspot to interrogate me. So, after I said, "For fucksake, I cant take the pain anymore!" My big brother immediately jumped into action and said, "Do you want me to take care of this?" Without saying a word, I handed Justin the phone and chest bowing, he stepped outside.

I haven't heard from my little "friend" since.

Oh yea - did I happen to mention - my brother is 42 and only a couple years older than I.

The advantages of being a little sister really are timeless!

The Things We Do For Love

A few days after my Ellie passed, I decided I needed to have a piece of her with me always. So what did I do? Got myself a tattoo (sorry mom)! That's right... I got inked in honor of my girl. Its my first tattoo in ten years, bringing the current total to two.

My new tattoo is based on the design in Ellie's food bowl, and the artist added her name along with a couple of decorative swirlies - it's a nice touch. I simply love it!

Now, the tattoo is placed on the inside of my right arm - I was a little freaked-out the first week at the whole "looking like a lesbian sailor," but I am over it now.... and no offense to either sects of people - live and let live, I say!

Its been 2 months since I lost Ellie and I sure do miss my sweet girl, every single day. Having a bit of her stamped on my arm brings me a bit of comfort.

Without further ado - my ode to Miss Ellie Mae Webb...

My Ellie Fought The Good Fight

In loving memory of Ellie
(11/1/03 - 9/22/08)

Oh my heart is so heavy right now...

My sweet Ellie had been plagued with liver issues for the last few months... medication helped for awhile but the past couple of weeks and recent blood word said she was a sick girl... not knowing the ultimate cause or how bad it was, she underwent a liver biopsy and exploratory surgery... The diagnosis: Eliie was in the final stages of liver failure.

At 10am Monday (9/22) morning I helped my 4 1/2 year old girl pass-on. Ellie went peacefully and I am thankful I could be with her. It is by far the hardest thing I have ever had to do and a piece of me went with her.

My heart is shattered. I am not quite sure how to go on without my baby girl.

Ellie was such a loving, happy, silly dog her entire short life and loved by all those who knew her. She fought the good fight right till the end and will forever be missed. She will always be my girl.

I take comfort in knowing Ellie is chasing squirrels and tennis balls... and is free from pain.

It happened - my pants DID fall down again!

Only - this is not quite how I imagined it would happen - there was no massive loss of poundage involved.

I arrived at work tonight with all in order - well as in order as one can be while living in an abyss, known as the overnight shift, but I digress.

Back to the pants...

After working for five minutes I stood up check on some video, only to realize my zipper was down. No worries, I will just nonchalantly zip them up and continue on my way. Then a moment of panic when the reality of the situation registered. Wait a minute - there is no zipper pull!

That's right, somewhere between the parking lot and newsroom my pant's zipper imploded.

And the worst part... the pant's closure is a snap - not a button. I am getting a blister on my thumb from re-snapping, because every time, and I do mean EVERY time, I exhale, the snap bursts open with the force of a torpedo. Seriously, it could take the eye out of a small child with that kind of force. And foolish me, I continue to re-snap each time hoping it will work "this time."

Instead, I am like a grandpa on Thanksgiving who just consumed an oversized meal of turkey and all the side dishes... pants undone, gut hanging out.

Now, if only I were plopped in front of a fireplace, dozing to the sounds of football...

Blu goes for gold in South Carolina!

Ellie, Blu and I returned today from a weekend trip to see Jeannie (friend since 8th grade). The dogs love, love, love going to Auntie Jeannie's, where they hang-out with their buddy Gracie, are showered with love and treats (thanks Grandma D) and lounge endlessly on the lake-front deck. Sometimes they even put on their captain hats and hit the party-pontoon boat for a jaunt across Lake Murray. In all it is a dog's paradise, and not too shabby for the adults either. Another fun-filled activity - and reason for this post - the tennis court. We take the dogs to a vacant tennis court so they can run and chase balls. Ellie and Gracie chase tennis balls till they can chase no more, while Blu generally likes to take leisure laps around the court. It is pretty entertaining to watch. Well on Saturday, the old guy ran, at full speed from end to end, back and forth, for about 10 repetitions. I was stunned as I cheered my boy on. It was like he was a young, silly, happy puppy. And, I swear old Grandpa Blu was smiling! I know I was.

The photo posted here was one taken several years back. It is a favorite of mine. And while Boo-Boo is older now, with a bunch more grey, and generally slower, he still has some ziptang. Old, young, slow or fast - I love the big guy just the same and I will always cherish that day on the courts when he was a spry, happy pup at 10 1/2 years of age.

Mom & Pups Pet Center - - - Rocks!

If you are in Metro Atlanta... and want some fantastic goods for your pooch (or kitty), check out Mom & Pups in Marietta, GA. It is a locally owned and operated shop with a wonderful selection of toys, leashes/collars, treats, food and anything else you desire for your precious pet... you can even wash your dirty, lovable dog in the do-it-yourself-dog-wash.

I stumbled upon Mom & Pups one day while driving to my brother's house. Now, whenever I am in Marietta my Jeep automatically pulls right up to the door. I have yet to leave without a bag of goodies for my dogs.

The owner, Christina, is awesome - so personable, patient, knowledgeable and rather saint-like, as she always answers my incessant questions. On a recent visit, Christina went out of her way to specially order a harness for my friend visiting from South Carolina. I was so impressed with Christina's efforts to obtain the pink harness for Jeannie's 80 pound pit.

So when you are in the neighborhood, check out Mom & Pups - you won't be disappointed! And be sure to say hi to Violet, Christina's adorable Boston Terrier - she will be hanging out behind the counter.

www.momandpups.com

Will my pants ever fall down again?

A couple of years ago I flew to Buffalo for a visit with my peeps.
The flight was smooth and uneventful.... that is, until it came time to deplane.

I sat in business class (gotta love Airtran's 40 dollar upgrade), thus was situated at the front of the plane, and while the crew prepared the cabin for deplaning, a line of anxious passengers grew.

As we all waited, an older gentleman put forth the kind effort to collect my bag from the overhead compartment. (the story picks up here, I promise) When I reached above my head to grab the bag from the nice man... my pants plummeted.... all the way down to my ankles.

*I now have a clear understanding why mothers implore their children to wear good, clean undies "in case of an accident."*

So there I was... arms above head, pants at ankles, ratty pink undies in full view. What did I do? I took hold of my bag, thanked the man, bent down and pulled my pants up, grasped what little dignity I had left, turned toward the plane's door and continued on my journey.

I am guessing most people would be mortified if this happened to them. Not this chickie. In fact, I am certain I could be heard accross the country - cheering in elation all the way to baggage claim - because my pants were so big on me... they fell down!

Perhaps my question should now be "When will my pants fall down again?" I have to believe they will and don't worry mom - I'll start wearing my good undies.

It's Official - - - Donkey is CRAZY!

For those of you who don't know, Donkey is not an actual donkey, he is a neurotic, obsessed-with-Rachel, 8 year old Weimaraner.

Now when the infamous Donks came to live at the house, it was temporary, until my roommate and I could find him a home.

That was 2 1/2 years ago, and one "returned-from-rehome" later.

I have never known a dog like Donkey. He is crazy, sweet, clumsy. He entertains daily with improvised routines. You just cant help but love the big oaf, or Donkey The Dinosaur, as I like to call him.

Well Donks had to go to the vet yesterday because he appeared to be in discomfort, as he lumbered around in a very non-Donkey manner.

Upon physical examination, the vet determined, "Donkey has symptoms pointing to his neurologic system."

Oh really? I dragged the 75 pound silver ball of panting nerves to the vet for THAT diagnosis?! HA! I chuckled thinking - I could have saved myself a hundred bucks - I already know Donkey is crazy!

But then the vet went on to say Donkey's symtoms are consistant with degenerative disc/spinal disease and he could eventually lose control of his backend. She feels his symptoms are mild right now, and I am hoping it remains that way for years to come, because carting his lame jackass around in a wheel barrel is going to take some serious working out on my part. I'll gladly do it though... for me and my Donkey!

What time is it? What day is it?

These are the questions I ask myself daily while working the overnight shift at CNN. I am currently in the middle of a nine month rotation where my shift begins at 10pm and ends at 8am.

It amazes me how I don't know the date... days pass, and sometimes months.

I began the shift in the middle of February and one day wondered what day of the week the 29th would fall, after all leap year only comes once every 4 years and anticipation was high! Too bad when I inquired, it was March 22nd.

Let me start by saying... Welcome!

For those who don't know me.... my name is Rachel. I was born and raised in one of the greatest cities - Buffalo, N.Y. If you've never been, I strongly encourage a visit to B-Town - the people, food, scenery, culture, arts, Lake Erie, Niagara Falls - you just cant beat em'! And if get thirsty for a vodka loganberry(try it, you will love it!), the bars stay open till 4am.

I currently live in the heart of the south, Atlanta, GA - where I've worked in the news biz for the past 13 years. In a nutshell, I am a "news ho" and information junkie with a love for writing.

As for sleeping with dogs - I live in a house my roommate Erin owns, on separate floors and with a menagerie of pups between us...

Mine:

Blu, 10-year-old hound mix

Ellie, 4-year-old doberman/pit mix

Donkey, 8-year-old weimaraner

Roommate's:

Coco, 10-year-old chihuahua

Olive, 3-year old chihuahua

Pickle, 3-year old chihuahua

Ginger 8'ish-year-old yellow lab

So now, I officially welcome y'all to sleeps with dogs! I am new to blogging but look forward to randomly rambling to the masses.

With my crazy dogs... crazy family... crazy life - there is never a dull moment!

Let the blogging begin, or as I like to say.... write on!