a new enemy.

Well, Papi and I have been living here for a year.

And even in our new abode, we really know how to win friends and influence people.

We now have a neighbour that may not like us too much anymore.

We have bad dogs.

Well, one of them anyway.

The Thug is a bit of trouble, but not as much trouble as the 3 rottweilers behind that flimsy wooden gate.

They are absolutely gorgeous, massive dogs.

If I knew they were friendly, they'd be my first stop every day for slobbery kisses.

But, they have a job to do.

Apparently, so does The Thug.

His job is to rip your lips off.

We have been putting the dogs on leashes since The Donkey got too close to them.

The dogs along the beach run to each others gates and torment each other.

Other dogs do it to ours, and in turn, ours do it to them.

As a dog, your turn on the beach with your people means you get to flaunt that you're free and tease the dog behind the gate.

However, these 3 rottweilers don't get to leave the yard, nor do they have a sufficient gate.  They can stick their head through the wood.

Fair enough that her property is so huge that they don't really need to leave to get exercise, but still.  I've never seen her walk them.

Anyway, a few weeks ago, The Donkey being full of puppy pep, ran up to torment them and got her paw bit all the way through to the other side.

It was terrible!

So, we now leash the dogs to get them past the 3 headed monster, that rivals 'Fluffy' in Harry Potter.

All was going smoothly until the other day.

Without a chance of reversing his decision, The Thug doubled back and ran to defy our leash rules.

Unfortunately, one of the dogs got a hold of The Thugs lip and The Thug wasn't backing down.

There they were, each trying to rip one another's lips off.

Blood was staining the wood.

The owner, whom I've never heard anything good about from the village, was screaming and beating her dog with a pool pole.

I released a weird high pitched squeal that involuntarily comes whenever dogs fight.

I yelled for Papi to get a stick so I could pry The Thugs locked jaw open and get him off the other dog.

Both of them have battle wounds.

They had so much blood on their muzzles, that they looked like lions who'd just finished eating their kill for the week!

But the worst part was how the woman started yelling at ME, as if it was all my fault.  "Por favour, nunca mas!"

I really don't think it's only my fault.  I'll take the blame for unleashing my dog too soon after passing her massive property.

Our gate does not allow for our dogs muzzles to get through.

When other dogs come running, all ours can do is run back and forth and bark.

Not to mention, the wood holding back these dogs seems pretty useless.

If she was the friendly sort, I'd recommend putting slats of wood there so that she doesn't have any more troubles.

But so far, we've learned she's not very nice, and now we're a little worried that she may get someone to poison our dogs.

She's definitely not going to be our friend.

Papi and I have an awesome gift of either winning people's hearts, or pissing people off to the extreme.

I suppose, having that information, I should really stop giving a shit about people who hate us.

We have enough of the 'love us' side to make me happy.

Not giving a fuck commences in 3 ... 2 ... 1 ...

No fucks given!

today i choose me

out to pasture

The cows are in abundance.

The thug thinks they're a toy to play with.

It's a little upsetting.

I'm sure the cows are going to win that game.

The fridge ticks and tacks.

Apparently it's 'doing it's job'.

We should have had cabinets built around our inverters.  Now they are water logged because of the ocean air being full of salt water.

We are without power a lot of the day, every day, but after a year, we're starting to get used to it.

"Oh, you should have the same cabinets around your inverters as your neighbours, then you wouldn't have to buy new inverters."

So, you couldn't have told us that before we went into the hole for 2 new ones?

Ya know?

But back to the cows.

I sing a lot of songs about cows.

Not that I put any away in that locker of music to record.

It's just cow songs.

Like a musical.

While on the road.

Because we're always on the road.

And there are always cows.

So, what else would there be to sing about?

Or for that matter, write about.

So, it's only natural that when we're walking the dogs, after the first river, we'll find a pasture of cows.

Then, being the tyrant he is, it's only natural for The Thug to go torment them.

Off runs Papi.

"Run faster!" I scream.  I don't want our neighbours putting a bullet in our dogs.

I don't want our dogs hurting the cows.

I can now see all the cows running away from The Thug.

But what's worse, is now The Donkey thinks it's time to play too.

She's about as tall as a calf.

Earlier that day, there were the puppies.

It's possible we'll take one.

We miss Pathetic Puppy so much.

It's nice that we have her reminders.  Like my fancy wedding purse with a very special chew hole, courtesy of the baby girl.

It's like she came in the form of a cyclone, destroyed everything, then went back to her angels.

We have her reminders.

But we'll never have that little one eye.

We may have a new little girl to make our lives crazy for a while.

One can never have enough crazy.

Except for the fact that I feel so heartbroken that so many hearts have left my life.

I can live without THAT crazy.

But then, I guess they were never really friends to begin with.

I will keep moving forward.

i choose love

with the angels

Her body is gone.

It was not the easiest choice, considering she was only a year old.

She just started being the best guard dog.

But her body had shut down and she stopped eating, yet was vomiting bile.

From the tests Dr. Bob did, he deduced that she only had a few days left, so it seemed like the best idea would be to allow her to go before she wound up suffering.

I cried so hard.  I'm pretty wiped from it.

But I do have to tell you about the people who were there at Dr. Bob's.

It seemed like this girl was a little clueless when she came in.

When she saw that I was in tears, she asked, "Is she OK?"

I told her she wasn't, that she was in renal failure, but I guess she doesn't really grasp what that means.  She replied, "We have some herbs to help that.  We saved a dog from a heart attack with our herbs."

Really?  So, when you saw a dog having a heart attack, did you just run screaming, "This dog is having a heart attack!  Quick!  Grab the herbs!"

Now, I'm all about the natural remedies.  I'll take natural over pharmaceutical any time there's an option.

But renal failure?  Her body had simply shut down and she was delirious, which was why she would just walk somewhere and stare into the nothing-ness.

We had suspected that she was not 'right' for a long time.  As in, since a few months after we rescued her.  We always thought that she was an 'odd' dog.

I can't tell you how many times we've said, "She's not like other dogs."

Dr. Bob's tests didn't show any actual poisoning, but that her body just did this on her own.  Her kidney has been failing for a long time and her body finally gave in.

I would have tried anything if I knew a year ago that her little body wasn't producing like it should.

We just didn't know.

But back to Flower Child.

Her mother was there and Hippy-Dip was telling her mother about a motorcycle accident and how the doctors are making the victim have surgery without pain killers.

I guess this is their first experience with the fact that this country refuses pain killers under every circumstance.  Yes, even surgery.

So, what was the mother's response?!?!?  "Oh, that's horrible!  She needs a new doctor!  I'm going to have to bring her my healing mat!"

Really?!?!?!  What fucking planet did you people come from?!

Oh, but the finale was when Dr. Bob's blood tests proved their dog had tick poisoning, and the girl's response was, "But, he doesn't have ticks!"

That was enough.

Through all my sobbing and dying from grief, I had to retreat outside to be alone and cry without all the stupidity.

Since coming home, I've slept away the tears and The Donkey has been acting out of control.

She also won't stop sniffing Papi's shorts.

It's as if she's saying, "I can smell the death.  Why can I smell the death!"

She keeps walking around searching for Pathetic Puppy.

The Thug is coming for hugs and won't stop talking.  He seems to be saying, "Where's my toy.  I liked that toy."

Jake-a-Like is needy.

Papi and I are so sad.

Her little spirit was more than alive, even if her body had been dying for a long time.

I whispered in her ear to come with me.  That she didn't need that sickly body any more.

That she could still be with us every day.

Amongst the angels.

i let go of sorrow, while holding on to love

emotional upheaval

The greeting.

It was tremendous.

It was stupendous.

The Donkey jumped all over me, crying, "You're back!  I missed you!  I love you so much!"

It was the greatest greeting I've ever had.

Of course, the rest of The 6-Pack wanted a moment of a greeting as well, but they didn't have a chance.

It was a nice welcome after hearing some news that disturbed me.

I can't talk about it publicly yet.

I have to wait for him to speak about it first.

He's told a few people who are close to him, but that's his choice as to who he tells.

Funny, isn't it?

Mi esposo usually tells the world everything about himself.

Unfortunately, there are a lot of people who would worry too much if he said anything, and a lot of people who would come down very hard on him, which is not the answer right now.

Still, it is something to worry about.

Oh, I worry.

I worry and worry and worry.

You know how you can tell someone something that is bad, and they don't listen to you?

You know how you can always say, "I told you so," much later?

Well, that doesn't really matter when shit happens and you're terrified.

Like for instance, the car accident where I asked him to slow down around the corners, because he was going to fast, then he ignored me and we did a wipe out seconds later into the brush?

But we don't listen to people we love the most.

I'm not saying he's the only one that doesn't listen.

I don't listen to him a lot either.

Anyway, I suppose I can only talk about how I feel about this.

It could really be put into other topics for anyone else out there with these feelings.

I'm worried that there will be more disastrous repercussions.

Still, I'm worried there may be difficulties.

I'm scared of what could be worse.

There could have been a way worse outcome.

He is very lucky.

Really, we both are.

Both of us.

I don't sit in the present very much.

I jump to the future and freak out there.

That's my deal.

I spoke to a friend about it recently, and my friend has the opposite problem, they only live in the now and can't look to the future.

I so wish that I could have that problem, then I wouldn't see this as a problem.

I'd just see that right now, here, I have my love.

Right now, I am fortunate to have him as my other half.

Right now, is not the future and the fears I have.

Worrying will not change anything or make anything better for the future.

All it will do is give me more wrinkles and grey hair.

OK.  So, I suppose that's what I have to do right now: remember where I am and that everything is OK right now.

Everything is OK right now.

I'd like to stay here and be alright.

Right now is very good.

i am exactly where i need to be

nice try

So, there I was, trying my first day of actual meditation.

I've been told that it's something I need to do for a long time.

I do find a place in music that is akin to meditation.

It really is the only time that nothing else enters my mind, other than the song I'm working on.

Maybe that's why it makes me so happy and peaceful when I play.

It's actually meditation!

But still, I had a friend give me some pointers on what I can do to start my journey into this new world.

So.  I sat outside on the table.

Yes, the table.

It's pointless to sit in chairs, because we happen to have massive oafs who will stop at nothing to be lap dogs.

The entire 6-Pack at one time.

Now, maybe someone who's been meditating for a long time can still do so with a Donkey, a Thug and others perched on their laps, wrestling for their attention.

But this is not a task for someone who's new at this gig.

So, I sat on the table.

Those waves, that happened to make me feel like I was listening to white noise while I was healing from the ankle, were going to be my focus.

In ...

Out ...

In ...

Out ...

Be sure not to pass out!

You see, I kinda have troubles with lightheadedness when I breathe too deeply.

Anyway, there was a moment that I started to only hear the waves!

Then it happened.

The MOMENT I got into the calming of the waves, there was Mr. Extortion outside the gate.

Waving, "Hola!!" with a sneaky, sly smile that tried to say he's a friend.

Sweet mother of baby Jesús, what the fuck do you want?!?!  I'm trying to fucking meditate here!!

Off I limped to hear his speech, "This is not sufficient for the waves.  You need big rocks."

Yes, the ocean gets VERY high in the winter, but we can't really afford the rocks right now, and decided we'd do a temp job with concrete bags.

But really it had nothing to do with his 'concern'.  Really he was saying, "We'd like more money from you, so if you could get those rocks, we could extort from you, if you don't mind."

I simply looked at him with a less than sweet gringa pan face, telling him this was temporary until we could afford the rocks.

He continued to go on about it, so I made it simple by turning into a broken record.  "We have no money."

More he went on about the rocks, thinking we're rich like our big house neighbours, as I repeated, "We have no money."

Then the little bugger was going to delve into an old extortion tactic of trying to get money out of us for the garbage pick-up by asking who takes care of it.

I now looked at him with Pissy Face and reminded him that we already told him that the gardener takes care of it and, "We have no money."

No, sir, you are not going to pull that one on us.

We've been here for 10 months.  We're hip to your game.

I was ready to lose the last ounce of spirituality I was trying to grasp with meditation and give this guy a piece of my mind.

Instead, I excused myself, leaving him standing at the gate, limping a little more excessively than I needed to to let him know that he REALLY disturbed my peace.

Papi says this was a test to see how well I could take on the task of meditation.

I'd say I didn't do so well.

I went back and hid in the house, playing my piano.

Nobody can see me when I'm in there, and I can pretend I don't hear people screaming my name at our gate.

I might try meditating again.

Or maybe I'll just stick to playing for hours on end.

i focus on the present

Send In S.W.A.T.

I think the move here has Papi and I living in some kind of battle zone.

I honestly don't know what the hell is going on.

Papi's done enough damage to his own body, and it seems that I'm trying to maim every limb of my own.

Started with Mr. Lumpy, but I guess a boob isn't a limb, is it?

Then I progressed to a dog bite on my hand that had me out of commission of playing an instrument for a week.

Next, we move on to my fucking ankle.  I don't need to say more about that.

Then I burned my calf on a motoconcho exhaust pipe.  It's really nasty.  I'll have to really take good care of it so it doesn't look any more infected than it already seems.

Then yesterday, the pin of my crutch fell out, my crutch crumbled and I fell to the ground giving my bitch of a back a run for her money.  I'm not impressed with the fact that I can barely move my neck today.

Oh, but earlier in the day?

I received another dog bite, this time on my forearm and wrist.

Fortunately, that pain only lasted overnight.  It's feeling much better now.

How did I get a new dog bite you ask?  Or maybe you didn't ask, but I'm going to tell you anyway.

Picture a 4 door Toyota Corolla Sedan.

Now.  Picture a massive crate with two cats in the back.  Got that?

OK.  Now add in 6 dogs, which Papi has lovingly nicknamed, The 6-Pack.

Granted 2 are small, but the other 4?  Including The Donkey?

Yeah.  It was something out of a comedy routine.

We were getting our house fumigated for the problem with ants and termites.

All the animals had to be out with us.

It was quite the task trying to find things to do for 2 hours, but we did it.

Then, as we were 2 minutes from home, The Donkey decided she wanted in the back.

The Thug said, "Fuck you and your big fat ass!" and it happened.

An all out dog fight in a tiny Corolla with The 6-Pack and a crate with 2 cats while I'm going 80 km/hr on a highway.

The cats pissed themselves in their crate and I slammed on the brakes so hard that Papi hit his head on the front windshield.

Still, the dogs continued fighting.

I, being the lunatic I am when they fight, screamed my best Psycho shower scene scream and I did it again; I tried to stop the fight with my hands.

I am so grateful that The Thug isn't out for blood, or there would be more than a puncture on my forearm.

I wouldn't HAVE a forearm if he was actually trying to hurt anyone.

But it was bad enough that I couldn't move my fingers.

We got home and I had to pay the fumigator.  Handing him the money hurt bad enough, but then he wanted me to sign for the receipt.

THEN! he wanted to shake my hand!!!

I was sweating bullets trying to keep a look on my face that didn't say, "I'm a dolt who likes to put my hands into dog fights between a Pit Bull and an Irish Wolfhound.

Last night as I was licking all my wounds, I reclined on the couch wondering what the fuck is going on, when The Thug and The Donkey decided my ankle was the perfect place in which to have a wrestling match.

They twisted it to the side and it is now more swollen and I can barely walk on it again.

Seriously.  What the fuck is going on?  I'm afraid to move for fear of doing anything more.

I was afraid to have sexy time with Papi last night for fear I'd sprain my vagina.

Don't worry.  I didn't.

This morning, I have two massive welts on my leg, from what I couldn't tell you, but it kinda looks like a flesh eating disease, one in the shape of Africa and the other like Great Britain.

I won't even go on about the bug bite that looks like I have a new knee on the back of my thigh.

Send in the S.W.A.T. team.

I need back up.

My mind, body and spirit are united for my highest good

 Gratitude Day 8/10
1. I am grateful my dog bite was only a bruising of the bone.
2. I am grateful for ice packs.
3. I am grateful I didn't sprain my vagina.
4. I am grateful I didn't hurt myself more when my crutch broke.
5. I am grateful I have time to wash my hair today.
6. I am grateful for fresh coconut water.
7. I am grateful I get to look out at the ocean while I write this.
8. I am grateful I can find gratitude every day.
9. I am grateful for this list forcing me to find gratitude every day.
10. I am grateful for dead bugs all over the yard, instead of live ones in my kitchen.

guess what day it is?!??!!?

Papi comes home today.

Not a moment too soon.

There is going to be some serious training.

The Donkey is out of control.

Now she doesn't even bat an eye at having the water squirt her in the face for jumping up on us.

She is massive.

She is strong.

When she jumps on you, she is staring you eye to eye.

You're the same height with an animal that, if she didn't like you, could do some real damage.

She REALLY needs work.

I would love to find someone on the island who could help us.

My regular obedience training I do is just not good enough.

Papi is coming home to trouble.

Papi is coming home to some dogs that don't know how happy they're going to be.

Yeah, they're acting out because I am locked away in my cage.

I don't go outside.

I just tell them I love them through the bars.

I don't open the windows.

I sit at the table yelling at The Donkey to stop beating the shit out of Pathetic Puppy.

I sit and look at the pool, wishing, swearing at my cast, while sweat is dripping from my body because I don't open the windows.

I don't open the windows, because what's the point?

I have to ask for help to close them again before I retreat to my castle tower.

I just can't do it.

So, I lie upstairs with the fan trained on me, while I listen to the dogs beat the shit out of each other, barking.

Going downstairs to eat is too much of a production.

I do the once in the morning for my coffee, because we all know I wouldn't survive without it.

Then I sit there, drinking it, sweating profusely.

I'm not exaggerating.

When those windows are closed in this house, it is a sauna.

I come upstairs and strip my fully soaked clothing, then sit on the edge of the tub to shower what I can with my cast resting on the toilet.

Papi comes home today.

Windows will be open.

Papi comes home today.

Dogs will get attention.

Papi comes home today.

I get love.

Papi comes home today.

i have much to celebrate

here comes the fight ...

Bed.

All day yesterday, all day today.

Shots of pain in my foot and leg, and it didn't help that The Donkey did her best to knock me over again today, and I tried to save myself by using my ripped ankle to get her off.

Furthermore, I suppose going out Saturday night wasn't the BEST thing for me.

Housemaid looked at me like I was a wimp and kinda laughed at me when I said I just couldn't come by for the invite for a Sunday party in the village.

Yeah, well, my body isn't quite as strong as it used to be.  I gave up being strong after the motorcycle accident.

I accept these shots of pain as a warning.  I allow them to tell me I've done 'enough'.

I had told her I wanted to lie down for a few days until Papi got here, and I should have followed my intuition instead of allowing for someone to persuade me otherwise.

I feel so bad for the dogs.

I hear them acting out.

I read the sadness in their eyes that they can't be near me.

I sense the confusion.

"Why are these other people feeding me, but we're in the same house?"

It's OK my little loves.

Papi comes home in ONE MORE SLEEP and you'll feel things are back to normal.

I'LL feel things are back to normal.

The cats will be miserable again, because the dogs will be in the room.

That's OK.  They had a lovely week with some isolated time with me.

The inverter went out last night.

It wasn't the best sleep, listening to the white noise of the fan to try to keep me cool.

It was pretty hot, but Papi comes home in ONE MORE SLEEP to fix everything.

Papi's coming home tomorrow!!!!!  TOMORROW!!!!!!

At least I'll have my love to take care of me.

I'm staying in bed another day.

I think it finally hit me, after I realized that I truly have a nasty injury last night.

I can't just up and run about with a cast on my leg.

Housemaid will just have to find someone else to party with.

I know that she enjoys my time, as does Our Fave's Mom, as she called me a total of 16 times yesterday.

I understand, she's back in town and would love me to see Little Angel, but when you're tired and hurting, you kinda just want some quiet time.

I'm just too exhausted to even try to speak Spanish, so I studied it instead.

I spent the entire day filling out flashcards in the awesome new flashcard program I found: StudyBlue.

When I switched from iPhone to Galaxy, I had to make a whole new batch, and that's still considered studying.

An entire Sunday, filling in flashcards, instead of talking.

I'm tired.

I hurt.

I have a lot of healing to do.

I didn't even go downstairs for a healthy dinner.

Chocolate was on the menu, as I didn't have to get out of bed for that.

The novelty of my first cast has worn off and now I'm into the injury depression.

Chronic pain will do that.

I anticipated it, but hoped I could stay busy enough for it not to hit me.

No matter how much Housemaid tried to entertain me, there's just no escaping the injury depression.  It really is unavoidable.

It has arrived and Hurricane Andréa is just around the corner.

Time to mope in my bed, just in time for Papi to return.

You poor soul, Papi.

I am grateful for prozac.

Oh, but I'll fight that bitch tooth and nail, all the way down to the Pit of Doom.

i have the ability to choose happiness

taking care ...

Doggy guilt.

Worst guilt out there.

They cry at the door.

But I can't be around The Donkey.

Man.  She is strong.

Yesterday, she jumped on me, knocking the wind out of me for 20 minutes.

But not only that, if there wasn't a wall behind me, myself and my crutches would have been down on the ground with a possible concussion.

Nobody better fuck with her.

She's strong, tall, and fast.

I just can't be around her.  She's too much for me right now, and she knows I'm vulnerable, so she's taking advantage of the fact.

I stay locked behind the iron door, and she stays outside crying.

Crying!

How can I live with myself!?!?!

Well, Papi comes back in 5 sleeps.

In 5 sleeps they get to come back upstairs because Papi can let them out.

You know what's really funny?

Before Papi left, I told him, "When you come back, I'm taking a week off and not doing ANYTHING!"

He was saying I didn't do much more than dishes and laundry here.

The best way to show him how much I actually do would be to not do anything and he can see everything I do then.

Well, would you look at that.

I wasn't kidding.

I won't be doing anything.

He'll be stuck with it all.

So sorry, my love, it's like the motorcycle accident all over again.

Only this time, I'm more aware of my surroundings and can have a decent conversation.

Like for instance, "Papi, can you bring me water?"

Or how about, "Papi, can you make me my salad?"

Or better yet, "Papi, can you please wash my back?"

I have had a few showers since the cast, but having a cast means I have one foot out of the shower.

I'm not feeling as clean as I would normally.

Today, I decided I'm staying in bed with my ankle up.

I've been taking pain killers for a few days, and today?

I'd rather just lie here and allow gravity to help with the pain today.

I need rest.

Rest is what heals us.

The Housemaid took me out to see some beautiful sights yesterday.

I think she's trying to keep me occupied.

She knows how it feels.  The same thing happened to her.  She refused to go to a doctor and limped on a bad ankle for a week and wound up in a cast as well.

So, she's really taking good care of me.

However, today, I need to rest.

I'm so sorry, dogs.  I really am.

It's so hard to see them so depressed.

5 more lonely nights for them while Dominican Daddy takes care of them.

Now?

Nap.

Definitely nap.

Heal.

i am learning the art of self love

BIEN!!!

Well, I guess I'm taking a trip to the doctor after I teach today.

Still swollen.

Still in pain.

I concede.

I was supposed to rest it all day yesterday, but dammit if I didn't go to feed the dogs to find that there was not enough food for the next day.

I had to take a trip to Santiago to buy more.

These are big dogs with big stomaches.

Holy shit!  We are going to go broke feeding them.

At THE MOMENT I realized we didn't have enough food, I had someone else come to the door to try to sell us another one.

And damn, he was CUTE!

But, honestly, we can't afford a 7th dog.

Besides, that poor thing probably wouldn't do so good with The Donkey and The Thug.

He's much too frilly and fluffy, and the way The Thug gives a beat down?  No.  I don't think he'd fare so well.

Not a tough one.

Anyway, no.  No more fucking dogs.

So, I invited Housemaid to go with me for the hour and a half drive to the city.  I really didn't want to go alone.

If something happened, leaving me hobbling around with a fucked up ankle, I would not be happy.

So, we went, and we talked.

I don't know if you really get it, when I say, "We talked."

As in, we had conversations in Spanish all the way there and back.

I was shocked at myself.

It didn't dawn on me until when I was home later, trying desperately to grab a moment to rest that fucking ankle, when Little Angel's dad came to the door interrupting my opportunity to put my foot up.

He was asking for money.

Dude.

Do you know we have 6 dogs and they go through a jumbo Costco size bag in a week?

No.

We can't give you money.

But as he was speaking, I was understanding him so much better than before.

It's finally happening.

I'm seeing the switch into deciphering what people say.

It is taking me so long to interpret, that I thought I'd never hear words.

I'm hearing!

I'm so grateful for all the work I've done.  I'm much slower than others, because I have so much difficulty with my memory, but it's happening.

Did I ever tell you I'm one of 'those' who talks to themselves?

Hey.  I make great company.  I'm just grateful I have dogs, so that when someone catches me, I can make it sound like I'm talking to the hounds.

Anyway, I spoke to myself IN SPANISH!

That made me giggle.

Well, only 8 more sleeps until Papi does the doggy night shift.

Bastards were up at 2 a.m. last night.

I'm so tired.

I miss my love.

i believe in all of my abilities

calgon, take me away ...

Tendonitis.

I've been playing too much piano in a short period of time.

Not a bad thing to be playing so much, but ouch.

My left hand still hurts from the dog bite, ankle is still swollen and even hurts to roll over in bed ...

... never mind those fucking stairs!!! ...

... and now I have tendonitis in my right hand.

I believe I am at war with myself.

No matter about the tendonitis.

I have a foolproof method to get rid of it.

I used to have it for years.

At one point I couldn't even play an instrument for a few years because of the pain.

Then I learned how to heal it and I could spend hours in the studio with no problem.

I just forgot that I have to do that when I play a lot.

Now I remember.

Ouch.

At least, I have the song down now.

I'm over the top thrilled!!!

I think I'll record it because I like it in Spanish so much.

Did I tell you The Donkey learned how to drink out of the water cooler from Pathetic Puppy?

Yeah.

Awesome.

I want my own machine.

Nothing like nose mucus all over your water source.

Then there's a new trick Jake-a-Like has learned.

Every night, as I'm falling asleep reading my book, I put in my bookmark.

Every morning, when I wake up, I see the bookmark is out.

I just figured I really was too tired and didn't put it in properly, then rolled over on my book and it fell out.

Until this morning.

After a quick visit to the loo, I came back to Jake-a-Like holding it in his mouth, as if he was handing it to me like a prize.

"Look what I did for you!!!"

You know, it's bad enough that they ate my last favourite pen yesterday.

Oh, excuse me while I stop The Donkey from chewing up the floor ...

.......................

.......................

.......................

.. Ok, I'm back.

Anyway, as I was saying, what was I saying?

Oh, yeah.

Demon dogs.

I've figured that The Thug really doesn't want to beat the crap out of Pathetic Puppy, but when The Donkey gets out of hand and bullies her The Thug thinks it's beat down time.

So, I have to be on high alert when the play gets out of hand and calm the crazy play down to make sure nobody draws blood.

Yesterday I had to hose him down to get him off Pathetic Puppy.  Jeeeeeeezus!!!!

This morning, I got invited to the Housemaid's birthday party.

It will be so nice to just sit with all the kids, then struggle to speak to the adults.  No dogs to train.  No beat downs.  Just a birthday gathering.

Furthermore, I'll give the hand a little rest so that it's not so angry with me.

I only have 11 days until I see Papi again.

How I miss you, Papi.

i will accomplish whatever i choose to accomplish

more than i knew ...

The Garage Band students are beginning to all line up with plants now.

I don't have enough room for them!

Now I'm making up places for plants that weren't intended for it.

But you see, word got out that some of the boys swam with me in the pool after they gave me plants.

I wasn't in a hurry to go anywhere, so I had the time for some play.

5 boys in the pool whoopin' and hollerin', doing back flips off the ledge and enjoying the swimming antics of The Donkey joining them.

But later when more children came, I didn't have the luxury of watching them.

These were little ones.

I definitely couldn't take my eyes off them in the water.

The cable guy was here, and being in my house, I definitely couldn't take my eyes of him either!

I assured them that another day I would have a little more time to watch them in the pool.

Tomorrow, we sing.

I'm quite lucky to have these teen boys who sing in the choir.

You see, last night at 9 p.m., the doorbell rang, and I was a little more than afraid.

Nobody rings the doorbell here at 9 p.m.

I thought maybe it was the predator, having finally tracked me down, coming for his revenge.

I don't think I'm that far off.

He calls me non-stop.

He scares me.

And it's not hard to fathom that he'd be able to find the 2 tattooed gringos near Gaspar Hérnandez.

I was grateful to have all the hounds follow my lead and swarm the door.

However, it wasn't the predator.

It was the teen boys telling me my garage door was open.

I couldn't figure out how that could happen, until I realized, I had picked my keys up off the ground when I looked for them to open that door.

How would they end up on the ground?

Gee.  I wonder.

Maybe something to do with 4 legs and a lot of fuzz.  Perhaps with one eye?

Then I realized that after they pulled them to the ground, they must have stepped on the automatic door opener.

I was very grateful the boys came to tell me.

They're looking out for me.

I feel like I have a lot of protection.

I think that if the creep does find me, he'll have to make his way through the boys, Dominican Daddy, and the guards next door who keep looking over the wall to make sure they're not missing a skin show.

Dominican Daddy will be The Guard while Papi is visiting Vancouver.

He, and all the teen boys will be sure nothing happens to me.

I have more support than I ever knew I would.

Oh, and would you look at that.

Just like clockwork.

The creep is calling again.

I'd be careful, scumbag.

I have a lot of protection, and I'm not only talking about the angels.

i commit to listening to my intuition

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

the thug.

I was so afraid.

We drove 2 hours to meet the rescue dog and I knew I'd fall in love, but that didn't change the fact that perhaps he could be aggressive toward our others.

He was obviously used as the bait in the dog fights they have here.

The scars.

Oh, the scars.

Hundreds of them and some, really deep.

It's heartbreaking.

When he was dumped at the side of the road, the people who found him rushed him to a vet to take care of the horrifically terrible gouge on his chest.

They kept him in their yard while searching for someone to rescue him and give him the loving home he needs to repair his past.

They weren't taking any chances with their own Fuzzy Family by introducing him to them.

I don't blame them.

However, I suppose the poor thing was just not a very good fighting dog, as they wouldn't have just tossed him and his chain off to the side of the road if the fucktards thought he was worth keeping.

So, that gave me confidence that MAYBE, just maybe The Thug wasn't going to kill our dogs, but you still never know.

We picked up Pathetic Puppy from the AAAS after being sterilized and damn!  The Thug got a woody upon seeing her.

The Thug spent the rest of the ride home wanting desperately to get to the girl in the back.

I sat with her to protect her from the horndog in the front, and held on to his leash in front that was tied up to the holy-fuck-handle.

That damn handle comes in handy for more than just white knuckling it while Papi drives like a lunatic.

Anyway.

I still couldn't be sure if The Thug's pecker hanging out was for excitement of love, or excitement at getting in a fight.

Well, when we got home, we put Pathetic Puppy upstairs for her post-op rest, and released The Thug out to the rest of the hounds.

Unbelievable.

He fit in right away.

Everyone likes him.

Everyone got along.

The Donkey is thoroughly enjoying running around with him and The Thug is thoroughly enjoying marking everything he possibly can.

I hope the hundreds of scars on his head and body fade, as much as I hope his memories of a previous life do the same.

He's quite lovely and cuddly, even though I am definitely allergic to him.

I have welts and hives all over.

That doesn't matter.

Just means I'll have to wash my hands and arms a little more frequently.

Or hop in the ocean.

So far, he's working out just fine, and the AAAS will be PROMPTLY removing his balls tomorrow to dispel his testosterone.

Something else that is working out fine, is having let out my now not so secret secret.

So far, I haven't had too many people tell me I'm doing the worst thing possible.

The shame and embarrassment are pretty hard surrounding this.

Yet, that glass of wine after a long stressful day being lost in the bumpy, dirt roads of the Dominican Republic mountains, with a battered, emotionally damaged dog who would give Dave Batista a run in the ring, was just the thing I needed to defuse the day that never seemed to end.

It truly is all good.

i am supported

a wee secret

So, the funniest thing happened.

Well, maybe not the FUNNIEST thing, but Papi and I found it entertaining.

It was time to bring the horrible, 4 legged cretin out for their walk.

It's our time for our walk on the beach, dogs' time for insanity.

So, there are some neighbours who rent out their place quiet frequently.

Nice place.  Big mansion.

The most recent renters were in the ocean enjoying their Dominican vacation and we opened our gate to release the hounds.

When those mongrels run to the ocean, it's like a tornado has hit the 'hood.

None of the locals appreciate our massive hounds running out the yard, but what can we do?  They need to let off steam.

Anyway.

We followed out the hairy ones and when the vacationers saw us, we were worried they'd be afraid of The Donkey.

She's pretty big.

Forget about fear of the dogs!  They immediately began gathering their items and moved them all in to the yard.

I'm sure they didn't think The Donkey would steal their phones or shoes.

The Guard was alerted about us walking on the beach and out he came with his shotgun.

It was too funny!

People were afraid of US!

Us.  The scared shitless Canadians who need to alert the thieves that we have guns to be sure they don't try to attack us.

Us.  The two who are so worried about their safety that we have a wall to be sure the violent ones can't just stroll in with their masks to hide their identity after they violate us.

Us.  The two who may have tattoos, but honestly, are so timid.

But just to give them something to remember for their trip, Papi decided to make their trip something to post on Facebook.

He decided tonight was a good time to do our monthly air warning.  You know the one?  That we do to warn others that we have a deterrent, so don't try to harm us?

I can just see their Facebook post: "Just heard a gunshot!  OMG!!!"

The point is, it's important not to judge a book by their cover, but our new vacationers did.

And we do the same.

I'm pretty sure everyone does it.  We are not alone.

We're afraid of so many people, and that's judgement in itself.

Yet people are afraid of us.

Us!

I just found it quite entertaining.

It reminded me not to judge, because I am judged as well and it feels bad.

Everyone needs that reminder.

We all do it, and anyone who says they don't, are lying.

I am so grateful for those who didn't judge me this week.

I had a secret to let out to those that are very close to me.

It allowed me to be honest about something I've been holding back.

Something that I needed a little bravery to tell you.

I suppose now that I've started telling you, I'll come clean.

I am no longer clean 'n sober.

Please don't judge me harshly.

I've already been doing enough of that myself.

I'm OK, so don't worry for me.

I'm really doing OK.

i trust myself

it's simple

He is American and talented.

He sang his American national anthem.

From the stands, those who have been taught racism rang out, "BOOOOO!!" because of the colour of his skin.

Why?

Today, important once again to search for simple joy.

Puppy nibbles on toes.

His little body twists and turns with exultation for no reason other than to express his merriment for living.

A walk with Papi and the Fuzzy Family down the beach as we giggle at their antics of jumping in and amongst the waves, rolling, tumbling.

We floated around in the pool, I drinking lime water for my stomach that seems to have come into contact with some bug, from somewhere, Papi drinking soda, of course.

We taught Pathetic Puppy and Jake-a-Like how to swim and exit, so that they could save themselves if they ever fell in to the pool.

This, while The Donkey swam laps around them.

I taught children piano, watching their pride glow as they felt the strength of playing the line right.

One little soul pulled on my heart strings.

We both wore glasses.

She liked mine, I liked hers.

She helped me with my Spanish, I helped her with her staccatos.

I felt connection to her awkwardness, and the wanting so badly to be loved and have approval.

Something as effortless as encouragement in her fledgling musicianship made us both feel strong.

It gave us an acquaintance where nothing mattered for that half hour, but the lesson and sharing the music.

MusicMan gave me a great hug when he saw me yesterday.

He had gratitude for me being there, I had gratitude that he was happy to see me.

Simply joy.

He told me he spoke to the BigWigs and it looks like I'll get paid for my work in September.

I'm already being paid in my heart, but a little reimbursement for my gas will be the cherry on top.

I was tired and weak when I arrived at Dream Project.

I left energized and ready to make more of my day than I had in a few days, from feeling so weighted in my heart.

When I arrived home, The Carpenter followed me in to our driveway with an offer: if I pay for the wood, he will make seats for the children of The Garage Band no charge.

It's happening!

People are starting to help with the children.

I only took the first steps.

But now, I am seeing others follow for their support.

Soon, they'll have a place to sit as they sing.

Simple joy.

This is only the beginning.

I'm so happy for them, and yes, for me.

It means their energetic, wiggly little bodies won't be squirming all over the place.

They'll have somewhere to plant themselves to listen a little better to instructions.

Seats.

Something so uncomplicated, yet another step toward more jubilance, love and gratitude.

It's simple to find, when you focus on the good.

Joy.

i feel good doing things that improve the well being of others

Garage Band

... your sunday sillies ...

Well, it wasn't the throngs of children I thought it would be.

No, it was quite a bit different than how I had it pictured in my mind.

I waited patiently, sitting on my little foot stool, outside Casa Paraíso.

In hand, I had my Sharpie Pen drawings of the first two notes I'd teach them, along with the list of names I had compiled of all those interested.

Nobody came.

Eventually, I saw one child nearing my direction.

Ah!  Dominican Time!  I see!

But alas, he was only going to watch them build the house next door.

So, I decided to take a stroll through the village.

Once more, I felt like the pied piper.

Not to mention, a little like the town cryer, "It's music day!  Do you want to sing with me?"

All I need is a solid brass hand bell to ring it on Saturdays when it's time to start!

One by one they'd follow, and when I was done, that list of 40 children was reduced to about 12.

No problem!  I'm good with that!

We all scampered to the beach in front of our house, and the children automatically planted themselves firmly on a log.

One problem: I had to yell above the waves!

By the time we were done, my voice was so weak, it sounded like it used to after an ear damaging concert when I was a teen.

No, this is not going to work.

I can't have them in my yard, because of the danger of the pool and puppies.

My foresight was right in that they'd be like Mexican jumping beans.  It's hard to teach, PLUS keep an eye on these little critters.

I don't need someone drowning in the pool or harassing a dog so much that they get bit.

So, next week, we're in the garage!  Our new digs!  The Garage Band.

No yelling, shelter from rain and safety from The Donkey who is sure to bowl over anyone who is close to the height of my hips.

Not to mention, we'll have the acoustics of an A-Frame room!

Furthermore, I won't have to watch them pee on our property.

I'm not kidding.

Middle of the lesson, they had to pee, and one by one they walked to the corner of our lot and peed on our wall right in front of me.

I think they had a bit too much fun doing this.

Papi was a bit appalled when I laughed about it, but I assured him, "Honey, they pee on our wall anyway, so it's nothing new.  The ocean is their washroom."

I can't tell you how many human feces we've seen along the shoreline.

Anyway, there are always a few trouble makers, but I'll tell you, if I'm not getting paid to teach, then I won't have them in my class.

I gave one a strict warning with the first set of 'rules', "You're here to sing.  If you don't want to sing, you go to your house.  I've told you twice, third time you go."

My Spanish was sufficient enough to get the point across, so he adhered to my wishes, however, I'm pretty sure I'll be learning his name first.

All in all, it was a fun 30 minutes and they learned 3 notes, 2 beats and a chorus of the song.

Afterward, one of the mothers, seeing that I was teaching children for free, took it upon herself to announce that she is Christian.

I suppose because it's something some people with religion do; help the children with no pay.

I told her, "I'm Jewish."

She touched my arm as if I needed consoling, and said, "Oh, that's OK.  You're still doing it for the kids."

Well!

I'm really glad that's 'OK' and that I have your approval!

She told me her son plays the piano at his school, so it looks like I have the beginning of the band I need!

Slowly but surely, we'll make it.

And I'm positive that more will join us next week.

I need that bell.

i believe in my ability to change the world on a small scale with the work i do

haggard.

I have so much to talk about, but somehow, I don't remember what I was going to tell you.

I do remember one item; tomorrow is the first day teaching the village children's choir.

I better have songs for them to sing, don't'cha think?  I haven't even started to prepare!!!

I've been a 'tad' busy, between Mr. Lumpy, driving to Santo Domingo, volunteering with Dream Project and everything it takes to be prepared for the above.

I'm exhausted, the dishes are piling up and the dogs are being neglected.

We haven't had the Housemaid in for a week, because we haven't been around for her allotted time.

Today is the first day in almost a week that I get to blog with my coffee.

These days, it's about running out the door with travel mug in hand, and waking up on the go while that coffee gets into my system on the road.

Showering?  Ain't nobody got time for dat!

I'm sure the locals are having lots to talk about with the stinky tattooed gringa they gossip about.

I'm pretty happy that the accident occurred 45 minutes away from here.

People in Nagua don't know us and I don't have to bow my head in shame in my own area.

Somehow, I have to look presentable for the children's concert today.

Those little beans at Dream Project are going to perform for a jazz band today.

I look forward to seeing the jazz band, as well as seeing them play for the pros.

The MusicMan is well connected and I'm very happy I've been able to be his assistant for the past few weeks.

The day before, I realized my Spanish has so far to go.

Sometimes, when I'm so tired that I can't even be bothered to shower, I just don't have the energy to study, or for that matter, REMEMBER Spanish.

Yesterday, I had a tough time at the school, and I had a tough time in my Spanish lesson last night.

Thinking that hard is difficult with limited energy!

Well, I might as well tell you about my corn.

I planted some seeds along the wall at the very front of the yard against the wall.

I didn't realized they're like banana trees, in that they're typically like a weed.

You plant in one area, and they spread out.

I have corn popping up in various areas of the yard!

I was wondering why Dominican Daddy wasn't plucking them from the ground, until I realized that they look identical to the other ones I planted.

I hope corn looks pretty, because they're invading our yard and it seems that they'll be spread out in no time.

But I know it wasn't corn I wanted to talk to you about.

Here I am, almost done my blog, and I still don't know what it was I was going to tell you.  It couldn't have been that exciting or I would have remembered right?

Wrong.

My poor injured brain has selective memory when I'm tired or stressed.  I could forget the most important of items.

I'm sure I'll remember later, when I'm in the middle of trying to understand someone's Spanish shpeel and have no idea what they just said, because I was daydreaming about some event of days past.

It will be another moment of me cocking my head, raising an eyebrow with a pained face, saying, "Que?"  That's my go to now for everything.

I was so happy to be able to get up and blog with coffee, thinking it would be a lovely writing session today, then I just sat here staring out at the ocean, watching and listening to waves crash, stunned.

If it weren't for the coffee, eggs, toast and lime infused water I was stuffing down my yak, that bewildered gaze probably would have been accompanied by me drooling all over the dogs that jump on my lap the moment I sit down at this table to write.

Ever have a donkey on your lap?

The Donkey honestly believes she's little.

Anyway, maybe tomorrow will be a little more informative and I'll remember the news I was going to share.

Until then, all you get is puppies, corn and one haggard femme.

i feel good about myself and the lessons i learn from life

donkey. you dog me.

Oh, The Donkey.

So many antics from one canine being.

She's healing up fine from both being spayed, and her little abnormal thumbs being removed, but it was time for a check up anyway.

The vet had told us he'd never seen anything like her before.

That she was a drama queen after her surgery and wouldn't move.

Well, you should have seen the drama in returning for a check up.

There she was, enjoying herself on our drive to Sosúa to see Dr. Bob.

Head hanging out the window, sometimes, trying desperately to get her head out MY window, which was troublesome, as I was the one driving.

I drive illegally now without any care in the world, but that still doesn't mean I want to go killing anyone on the road because The Donkey has chosen MY window to drool out of.

However, when we turned onto the rocky road that leads to the vet, all sense of 'fun' went out the window.

Quite literally.

Suddenly, she whimpered, both paws were out the back seat window, followed by her mammoth body.

I then saw her roll a few times on the ground and I wasn't sure if maybe, perhaps, I'd driven over her legs!

Good thing we were at the right place for broken legs if the problem arose!

I stopped the car in drive with the emergency brake on, not really realizing it, and jumped out to chase her as she was galloping back home.

On the main street.

Where we see at least one dead dog a day now.

Or cat.

Or horse.

But there she was, "Goin' home!  Nope!  You can't make me go back there!"

Fortunately for me, she loves me enough that when I call, she can't resist the cuddles and she came back, I snapped that leash on and in we went to Dr. Bob.

When I told him of her buffoonery and that he should check her body out for troubles, his reaction was not what I expected, "I'm so offended!  Why wouldn't you want to see me?" he asked her.

I almost asked him if he was from the west coast of Canada and upper U.S., where people seem to be personally offended at the change in weather, never mind someone speaking openly and honestly about their feelings.

Oh, don't get me off track on that one.  I'll be here all day bitching.

Back to The Donkey.

Last night, I brought in some small stairs for Sir Bark-A-Lot and Jake-a-Like, so that they could get up to the bed with ease.

Actually, they made it easier for ME to get into the bed too.

Turns out, they also made it easier for The Donkey at 5 a.m., when she decided to go against the rule and hop on top as well.

Both Papi and I looked at what was happening, then merely shrugged our shoulders and went back to sleep.

Well, TRIED to go back to sleep.

Have you ever tried sleeping with a donkey in the bed?

Then I was supposed to drive Our Fave's Mom and the Little Angel to the doctor at 8 a.m.

Needless to say, I am quite tired and am going back to sleep, even though I've driven people around after having had my coffee.

This time, The Donkey is on the floor.

With the other cretins who are too big for the bed.

I've informed all the children in the neighbourhood that I will not be around, because I'm going to be sleeping.

Still, it probably won't stop them from yelling at my gate.

It's yet ANOTHER day of fiesta in this country, where we can't keep up with all the 'days off' everyone gets.

No school for the kids and they'll be coming the the Hector-Brown Amusement Park for sure.

My earplugs are firmly placed in both ears.

life is a joy filled with delightful surprises

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