hungry?

Dominican dogs are not like Canadian dogs.

They're hunters.

Some are starved and will go after anything to eat.

It's been inbred in them for many generations.

They don't have the pampered lifestyle like we're used to.

Even Pathetic Puppy.

We got her as a baby, but she's still a wild loon in search of crabs, rats, geckos, frogs and anything else she can find to hunt.

She's not too keen on kibble.

She'd probably prefer the rice 'n beans diet most dogs have here.

Then there's Old Ghost Face and The Thug.

They have serious hunting mentality.

Especially when they want to kill the cats.

Which they tried to do the other night.

I was happily working my way through to the Dexter finale, when I heard Papi screaming, then tumbling above my head.

At first I thought it was a plain old dog scrap that we've become accustomed to, and cringed as I assumed Papi would use the greatest technique he's found; The Wheelbarrow.

Simply grab The Thug by the back legs and pull him off.

He can't fight while he's balancing on his front paws.

What I didn't know, was that when Papi tried to pull The Thug off The Mrs., well, Old Ghost Face went in to finish the task.

I could hear the fighting wasn't stopping.

Quickly I knew this wasn't a normal dog fight and my mind jumped straight to envisioning cat intestines strewn across the floor.

When I finally snapped out of the sights that had me frozen, swirling in my head, I hobbled upstairs as fast as I could, creating a lot more pain for my ankle.

When I got to the top of the stairs, all the dogs were outside and Papi was screaming, "It's not good!  It's not good!"

I figured my assumption was right and that I'd walk into a scene straight out of the Dexter show I was just watching.

But instead, I found lamps strewn across the floor, cables in a mess, and a cat in shock.

We thought she had internal bleeding or possibly a broken back, or both.

She wasn't moving.

Through our tears and panic, we called the emergency number for Dr. Bob, who told us to immediately go buy a serum.  "If anything is going to keep her alive through the night, this is it."

The next morning, we reached under the bed and thought she had passed in the night.

She wasn't responding when we touched her, but I got in close enough that could feel her chest cavity moving with her breathing.

I pulled her limp body out from under her hiding place, we brought her in, and were relieved to find that she is merely bruised.

Nothing broken, no internal bleeding, and no neurological damage.

Yes, she is VERY sore, and will take a few days to heal, but he said, "Her fur saved her."

Normally, we shave her, because she's always so hot with that thick, black, Persian fur, but we haven't found an adequate groomer.

Her fur saved her life.

Her fur is her super power.

She still hasn't come out from under the bed since the whole disaster, but she's eating.

This is not the life I thought these cats would have.

I thought they'd be chasing butterflies and geckos, enjoying their new country.

I guess it's just as well.

Here, people eat cats too.

Ours would make a nice meal.

Just ask the dogs.

every day, i learn more

i'm back!

your sunday sillies ...

Hallelujah I am healed!

Well, mostly.  Enough to type anyway.  I'll try playing piano today.

Just bumping it on something brings great pain, but the swelling is down.

When we brought in Old Ghost Face to see Dr. Bob, because of the fight, he saw that I was wounded as well.

He gave me some anti-inflammatory pain meds and they REALLY helped!

Sad news is, The Thug has attacked Old Ghost Face once more, then attacked Pathetic Puppy.

I'm trying to get that damn dog obedience trained, but he's a wee bit thick in the head.

Or perhaps, with all his abuse he endured, he has a little bit of brain injury from being hit in the head too much.

He's very sweet most of the time, it's just he gets a little over excited with the 'play' and he reverts back to his old days of fighting.

He didn't attack long enough to take a chunk out of Pathetic Puppy, though.  Forget about grabbing his collar.  This time, I grabbed the fur at the back of his neck and lifted him off the ground.

I tried leaving The Thug out with Dominican Daddy, while he was The Guard for the night.

I felt too guilty to do that to this sensitive dog.  I had to bring him in.

Oh, why do we have a guard?

Papi has left me all alone for a few weeks.  He's gone back to Vancouver to see g'ma and tidy up some of our loose ends.

It's really creepy being here all alone sometimes.

Then other times, I'm so damn busy that I don't have time to fret.

I thought I would get a lot of sleep while Papi was gone, because he makes a lot of noise in the night while he's on his graveyard shift.

But I realized now that it's not really him making the noise that wakes me up.

It's those damn dogs.  They have a 3 a.m. pee clock.

However, when I get up at 3 a.m., some dog, or rather, shall I say dogS, as in plural, have already relieved themselves on the floor.

How nice it is to mop up piss and pick up shit in the middle of the night.

I'm sure Dominican Daddy gets a kick out of me coming out all bleary eyed, frog voiced, saying, begging, "Go pee."

Of course, why would they?  They don't need to.  They already did.  All over the fucking floor.

Puppies.  Big puppies.

It's a bit much for one person to handle all day every day.

I know Papi is busy with a lot of work in Vancouver.

I think we are both working very hard, except his life isn't being surrounded by masses of children ringing the doorbell to bring me more plants as a thank you for lessons.

Masses of children interrupting me as I edit or practise, asking if they can have their turn in the pool at the Hector-Brown Amusement Park.

Masses of children screaming my name as I quickly shut the doors, hide in the designated music area and unplug the doorbell.

The other day someone was ringing the doorbell that I had unplugged.

When that didn't work, he yelled my name for an hour.

When I saw him later, I told him that I can't hear him when I'm practising and that the doorbell is broken.

I think the doorbell will conveniently be broken every Sunday.

Maybe I'll put a sign on it.

'Go away!', but nicely.  Still.  Go away.

As much as it's hard to be alone without Papi here, even if it's just to stare at him while he sleeping off the Graveyard Coma, still, I want to be left alone.

Lord knows I don't have time for children while chasing around 5 hairy mongrels and trying to convince the 6th that she really, really needs to go out to pee some time.

Old Ghost Face is a bit afraid to go anywhere near The Thug now, and holds it in.

It's only been 2 days.  I want Papi back now.

He really needs to take over the puppy graveyard shift so I can sleep.

i embrace the peace and quiet of the night

heal

Dog fight.

Old Ghost Face and The Thug.

They haven't figured out who is top dog yet.

The adrenalin I had caused a lapse of judgement in my brain.

I couldn't handle the brawl.

Hence, I tried to grab an available collar.

Instead, my hand got bit.

I knew it was going to hurt when I saw the blood, but I didn't feel it at the moment.

Now, because of the bruising, I can't use my hand.

I'm typing with the other.

It doesn't make for a good flow of story telling.

So I'll keep it short.

Dog fight.

All 3 of us are hurting.

Old Ghost Face isn't moving.

She's limping.

She may need to go see Dr. Bob.

Both dogs have nasty cuts on their faces.

The Thug also has one on his belly.

He was supposed to be here to heal from his wounds and fade his scars, not create more.

He's so gentle when he plays.

MY swollen paw knows his potential strength.

I won't be writing for a few days until the bruising subsides and my pinky can push the letters of this keyboard down.

Not to mention, I wan't be playing music with this hand.

Papi leaves me alone for 16 days tomorrow.

It will be just me and a few dogs that want to kill each other, when they're not looking to kill the cats.

More rest so we can heal now.

i heal quickly

it is possible!

I'm tired and I want to kill the Fuzzy Family today.

Apparently, so does Old Ghost Face.  We're all a little cranky.

I'm sure it was Pathetic Puppy who tore into the garbage.

The Thug has been hunting cats all night.  That is of course, when he wasn't panting from the heat.

The Donkey has been jumping on to the bed, causing Sir Bark-a-Lot to do what he does best, and Jake-a-Like has been sprawled along my body, making me warmer than I thought possible.

This is the first day here that I can actually say, "I'm too hot."  This will be the first day I'll experience what gratitude for a pool really means.

It's not so much the heat, so much as what comes with it.

Our air conditioner doesn't work when there's not enough city power to juice the batteries.

That means nobody in the village has had any power for a good day and a half.

At least we had enough to run our water.  People in the village have nothing.  It fucking sucks and don't get me started on how the government doesn't care about the people here.

Anyway, it was hot last night, but I don't usually mind the heat.

However, when there's no air conditioner, it means windows are open.

When windows are open it means mosquitos come in looking for snacks.

When they use my body for a meal, I'm up all night scratching.

Every available body part was eaten.

I was ready to tear my skin off last night.

Then, couple that with sweating and bug spray, and you have a sticky mess of dirt that beads and rolls on your skin as you scratch, making it look like you have miniature mouse shit all over your body.

Of course, the mosquitos are NOTHING compared to the ants that bite.

Seriously.  Way to harsh my mellow.

Thought I'd have some wine to help me sleep through the heat, and the ants thought it was a great idea as well!!!

In no time flat, I was flailing from being covered in ants who were biting my hands and arms, and those bitches hurt!!!!!

Then there's the itch that comes with the welts due to their chomping.  It's like the devil himself has crawled under my olive casing, adding salt and vinegar to the wounds.

When the ants nip me, I scratch until I bleed, leaving my derma with great gashes guaranteed to weep with pus later in the day.

These are the kinds of days I wish I didn't have to wear a bra.  A bra in the heat is pure hell.

It's not just the fact that it's tight up against my sweaty skin, but trying to get it on is like a game of twister.

It sticks to my shell before I can get it into place, then trying to adjust it once it's stuck is game of skill.

Forget about trying to get a sports bra on.  That will NEVER happen.  It will just roll along my skin, looking like the world's thinnest tube top.

It's the kind of day where you can shower away the sweat, but once you dry yourself from the shower, it's back in mere seconds.

It could be that I can't handle the heat because I had no sleep last night from the dogs' antics, and Papi up all night trying to get power back on.

That could be why I'm not enjoying this amazingly beautiful day.

Or, it's the fact that the heat has made it hard to sleep, leaving me a bitchy mess.

Today, I made my coffee extra strong.

Not to mention, I don't give a shit what I'm 'supposed to wear' as a white person to keep me safe from predators.

At this point, I'm wearing my fucking tank tops and cool, short, breezy skirts.

I'm bitchy enough that if anyone violates me today I won't have any problem telling them to fuck off.

Even if it's in English.  They'll know what the hell I mean by the nasty look on my face.

Maybe I'll pack my stun gun.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go scratch.

Indeed, it IS possible for ME to be TOO hot.

i sleep soundly and beautifully through the night

It's a bad day for The Donkey.

The Donkey goes in to see Dr. Bob to get fixed today.

She will look at us with the saddest face when we leave her, "You're abandoning me?!  What did I do?!"

Then when we pick her up, while she's depressed and lying in a cage, the face will say, "Whatever I did, I won't do it again."

I wish they spoke English so I could explain what's going on.  Hell, I'd settle for learning their language, if I could.

Old Ghost Face is in heat, but she's much to old to get fixed, so we'll just hide her from the other horny males in the 'hood who keep impregnating all the bitches.

So many pregnant dogs.  So many puppies killed because of it.

Why can't I be that rich person who could pay for all the animals to get fixed and stop the reproduction problem they have here in the Dominican Republic?

Not to make this into a billboard for promotion of the local program or anything, but if you feel like giving anything this year, here's the AAAS, their tax exempt donations, along with their wish list.

Anyway, back to Old Ghost Face.

When we went to the beach the other day, we left her in the yard for a short amount of time, as we didn't know what she might do.

Bolt?

Find a stud to take care of business?

After the mob calmed down, we let her out to join the masses to see what happened.

She stayed close by, because she loves her pack and her humans.  There was nothing greater than seeing that smile on her face.

First, there was trepidation that looked like she was thinking, "Is this a trick?  Are they trying to tell me to leave?  But I get 2 meals a day now!  WITH Alpo gravy!  I'm not leaving this yard."

Then, she took the brave slide down the sand that is slowly disappearing from our front area, as we need those massive boulders PRONTO before we wash away.

Next came the smile.

The, 'I'm so happy I could shit' smile.

I'll spare you the details on that one.

Never-the-less, it was successful, and as soon as she's out of heat, we'll take her on those treks to the beach, along with the pack who will also be exempt from making more puppies in this country.

Totally un-related, let's talk about how much love I received yesterday, when Our Fave's Mom and his sister came by to invite me to go play in the ocean.

The sweetest thing ever is when a child who isn't born to you, loves and trusts you enough to ask you to her hand while you go both go wading in the water.

Honestly.

It makes me so proud that the innocence of a child understands my heart.

Even if adults don't, a child and their intuition know that I'm here for good and I'm here for love.

Because of this sentiment, and the affection of friends who keep making an effort to remain in my heart, I can safely put aside all the politics, judgement and people who have dumped me because they're now part of the 'cool kids' who are on the 'hate the Hector-Browns' bandwagon.

... again ... my heart needs so much healing from the henpeckers ...

When a child wants to play with me in the ocean, doesn't see colour as a barrier, and asks for nothing but joy?

That trumps all.

Then we came to the pool, I pushed her around on the Princess Floaty Chair and she giggled and smiled while her mom had just a few moments to rest and watch.

She had time to just do 'nothing' but watch us in the ocean, in the pool, because the Little Angel was sleeping and Our Favourite was at school.

Rest, for the mama, for at least 30 minutes.

Probably felt like more to her, considering she goes non-stop because her husband is always working.

I keep offering us to babysit so she can have rest, but she hasn't taken us up on that yet.

However, she did say she was moving to Gaspar Hérnandez without her husband, to be closer to her sister, who is a HUGE help.

That made me sad, but until she actually goes, I'll appreciate the time with my DR Family and play with the little ones in the ocean as much as I can.

That child, and the friends back home who haven't left my side, make me stronger every day.

Truly, love is all that matters.

i know i am important

looking at the good

Sunday Sillies:

The good news is, I found the Sosua Synagogue!!!

The bad news is, they don't have a rabbi, so no services.  I've written back home to Rabbi Laura to ask if she ever found the person who could teach me from afar.

Any rabbis out there wanna live in paradise?

There are places you can move into that are ready made, no problems, and you don't need a gazillion dollars like we need to fix Casa Paraíso.

This house is a money pit.

When you live on the ocean, rust never sleeps.

Just as you think you've finished, there's always something more.

This morning, I happily opened a window to let in the cool breeze from the ocean, only to watch the bracket fall from it's wood to the floor.

Well, at least we got the clean water now.

I had the world's most beautiful shower last night.

It's not crystal clear and super clean like in Canada, but it no longer smells like I'm showering in farts.

Tomorrow, our roof gets started and within a week I won't be dodging monsoon showers in our bedroom.

Tuesday, our bed mattress gets here, which means Papi and I will sleep in the same bed, sprawled out and definitely starfished amongst various animals who are allowed to be there.

100%, The Donkey is not invited, even though she thinks she's one of the little dogs, and the littlest ones think they're as big as her.

Everyone is equal when they're a dog.

I wish they would treat cats in the same light.

I'm a little worried about Old Ghost Face, as she clamped her mouth down upon The Mrs. the other day.

The Mrs. hasn't come out of the closet since, unless the bedroom door is closed and she feels safe.

Old Ghost Face seems to be stalking The Bastard Prince as well, and I have to give her a stern talking to every time.

It's hard to do with an abused animal, because one simple, strong, "No!" and she cowers like we're going to beat her.

At least now she understands her name, so I can simply say it with that slow, man-like, authoritative voice and she walks slowly away from the cats.

I believe she's starting to understand that we're not going to lay a hand on her, unless it's to give her love.

I'm relieved that nobody seems to be bothering Psycho Kitty.

I suppose it's because they all know he's not a threat, because he's dying.

I was worried that because he was weak, the others would try to put him down the way they would in the wild.

So far, everyone just leaves him alone.

The drugs are working SO GOOD!!!

He is cuddling like crazy, as I try my best to hold my breath from the stench of a smell of a dying animal.

I am getting used to it, because I'm so grateful to have him act like he did before.

Up on the counters!!!

He's even ass up in the sink, looking for remainders of human food he can hunt and kill!!!

Something else I'm very excited about is next week's baby shower for our secret godson.

We're just going to keep our tryst a secret, so we don't have to deal with the Housemaid and the wrath of her clique vengeance.

I watch the Housemaid in our cameras, as she stalks our property, looking for us to talk to about the fact that we were speaking with Our Fave's Mom the other day.

It's horrible to feel like we have to hide from her, but I just don't want the work of defending my decision of having Our Fave's Mom as a friend.

I want to live without the village clique trying to tell me what to do to fit in.

Hmmm.

Sounds an awful lot like certain people back home.

People are people.

Everywhere.

Only this time, I get a new slate where I can only receive the good.

I've learned from the cliques back home.

Beware of those who travel in packs.

Unless they have 4 legs.

i choose to see the light i am to this world

meant for pleasure

Papi set security 7 security cameras up.

He's my super-duper, DIY handyman.

As I write my blog, before the cameras, I would normally look out at the view of the ocean, as it truly is something to be in awe of.

However, lately, there is something much more entertaining to watch.

Old Ghost Face doesn't do too much when we're around, as she's terrified of humans.

She's getting better.

Especially with Papi.

Mi esposo is so loving with her and she really responds well to him.

But still, she's quite reserved when there are beings with 2 legs around.

So, as I tippity-tappity on my keyboard to write a good morning to you, I get to watch her play on camera.

She is prompted by the Jake-a-like to play, and play she does.

Then the others join in and there are tails wagging, hopping, prancing and a good old time to be had by all.

She thinks she has us fooled.

She thinks we only see her as the stoic old guard dog extraordinaire, who is teaching the youngsters how to protect their space.

Yet we can spy on her and see that she definitely is part of the Fuzzy Family, accepted with full hearts.

Today was her first morning eating inside.

She has been coming to the door at feeding time, only to retreat once we get close, but last night, Papi fed her within the doors.

She is making HUGE progress!

Our quest is pretty much accomplished.

We just wanted her to have her last legs of life in a happy place where she can feel trust and be loved.

Even if it's only a little, and we don't know how many months she'll be with us, we've accomplished what we've set out to do.

Our mission was to rescue this poor damaged creature and heal her soul, so that when her angel spirit leaves her body, it can do so knowing she was loved and taken care of.

The other hounds?  Jeeeeezus they're horrible puppies.

Horrible.

And yet, I love them so much.

Especially when new workers come in the yard and are afraid.

Another mission accomplished.

Be afraid!!!

Be VERY afraid!

Spread word that we have terrifying dogs!!!

Even though we all know they're just running up to give people love, I'm good with people thinking they're ferocious beasts.

Anyway, one would think that we have security cameras set up to watch out for bandidos.

I know otherwise.

Right now, I'm watching The Donkey contemplate going for a swim.

I'm keeping a close eye on the Pathetic Puppy, as she strolls around after somehow having gotten a hold of Papi's clonazepam and having a nip at the drugs.

How on earth is she still running around?  She should be sleeping and mellow!

But nooooooooo.

She's wagging, jumping on Old Ghost Face, standing on the patio table and looking for as much mischief as she can find.

As I said.

I know the real reason for the security cameras.

They're really just dog cams.

Meant for pleasure only.

Oh, and to see the workers pull up.

Here we go.

Holiday break is over and work mania begins.

i am very fortunate that the work i do is work i love to do