Update (part 2): A Visit from Auntie Nik

During the month of April, the fun just kept on coming. Niki Moore, Ray's Number One British Fan, came to spend some quality time with her second favorite blind dog and her second-favorite-blind-dog's-owner.

Taking some time off from tending her own dogs (blind Conor, deaf Twiggy, one-eyed Izzy, wheelchair Rocky, and gargantuan puppy Hooch), cats (Dora, Phoebe, Wilf, and Millie), chickens (Rosie, Lady Mary, Edith, and Sybil), spouse (Jez), and boys (Jamie and Dan), Nik arrived just in time for a plumbing disaster at our house.

Rocky, Twiggy, Izzy, Conor and Jez (the human)

Gargantuan puppy, Hooch

 We didn't realize that we had a plumbing disaster pending; we discovered it while I was making dinner on the night that Nik arrived.When the smoke alarm went off. (I'm sure a smoke alarm during dinner preparation needs no explanation). As I went to knock the alarm off the wall, I noticed some brown spots, about the size and quantity of spare change, on the adjacent ceiling.

"Hey, Gregg," I yelled to my husband, "Have you noticed these spots before?"
Gregg and Niki came to investigate.
"I haven't noticed them before," said Gregg, "They must not have been there for very long. I think we would have seen them."

Niki reached up to point at a slight bulge in the paint next to one of the brown spots.
"This looks like a bubble," she said cheerily.
"Well, there's nothing we can do tonight," I said as I went back to preparing dinner, "I'll call a plumber in the morning."

That night, before going to bed, I put towels on the floor under the effected area. (I dismissed the thought of putting out  buckets which can be a bit of a boobytrap for a blind dog.) Thankfully, the next morning, the towels were dry. However, the brown spots on the ceiling were now the size of dinner plates. I called the plumber.

"It's a pinhole leak in the pipe," said the plumber,
"Unfortunately the pipes are above the ductwork."

Undeterred and unfazed by the events unfolding inside the house, Niki and I went about the business of having fun. We went to buy a new car. 

Nik, modeling my new car.

 We took Ray for a walk around the lake.

Is it just me or is it getting hot?

 We hung out on the front porch.

Oh, Aunt Niki, I'm so glad you're here.

 There was a pajama party on the front walkway.

Hey Ray, listen to this.
There once were two cats from Kilkenny,
Each thought there was one cat too many,
So they fought and they fit,
And they scratched and they bit,...

...Till, excepting their nails
And the tips of their tails,
Instead of two cats there weren't any!

You just gotta love a good limerick.

How 'bout a snuggle 

Now, how 'bout a little sugah. 

Oh Ray, Conor would be jealous.

Halle's grandma, Deborah, who is an artist, gave us a painting lesson (subject matter: blind Conor).

Paintings' subject.

Jean, Deborah, Nik and paintings
(The one on the left is best)

We hunted flies…

Ray, I'm pretty sure I saw it go down here.

and made dog-collars for Nik's pack.

On the day before Niki left, Ray was depressed. Nik did her best to cheer him up by hanging out with him on the stairs.  

She's leaving me isn't she.

But Aunt Nik's leaving left a big hole in the blind dog's heart.  

sigh

RIP, Chester

In honor of Ray's friend, Chester, who died today, a reposting of the video...

Update (Part 1)

I know it's been a while since I posted anything, so I will endeavor to bring things up to date, starting with this, a video of a visit from Ray's foster mom (Amber) and foster sister (Jordan). They stopped by, back in April, just as Jordan was getting ready to move away from this area. They both figured that it would probably be the last time that they'd be in this neck-of-the-woods, so they made a special effort to come and visit with their favorite blind hound.

I view this video with mixed feelings. I can't help but be thrilled at Ray's joyous reunion with his fosters, but at the same time I can't help but be jealous. All I ever get at the front door, if Ray even bothers to get up off of his chair, is the "Oh, it's you again" look.

Sigh.

We're OK...

…just hot.

My Spot

What the heck is this dog doing here?

He should know that this is my spot

Ew, his foot is touching me.

Maybe if I try to ignore him...

Nope. Can't do it. Out damned spotty dog. Out, I say.

I don't know what his problem is. I like the spotty dog. 

Fashionista

I've never been one for high-fashion, preferring jeans and a t-shirt for almost all major occasions. And if there is a trend, I'm always years behind, first having to mull it over to decide whether or not it has merit. But I think Paris Hilton was on to something with her dog-purse. I'm not sure that it can carry much beyond a cow but it does make me feel ever so fashionable.

You have GOT to be kidding me.

sigh

Oh well, I guess if I'm going to be a fashion statement,
I'll give it my all. 

Here, give me that cow. I'll carry it for you.

No, I'm sorry, I don't carry cows.

Time to Get Up

Something roused me. I looked at the clock on the bedside table and saw that it was 12:45 a.m. I lay still, listening. There was a thud and then a rattle and another thud. I poked Gregg.

"I think there's someone in the house," I hissed at him.

"wha? huh?" replied Gregg groggily.

We both lay still listening to the weird noises for a moment which, all of a sudden, sounded like they were coming from right outside the bedroom door. Not wanting to be caught lying down, I slipped out of bed followed immediately by a half-awake husband. I crept to the door and flung it open but saw no thieves-in-the-night. I flipped on the hall light and saw Harvey lying on his side next to the closed door of the linen closet. The edge of the hallway runner next to him was flipped over at the corner. Obviously, he's been playing with a bug, I thought to myself as I looked at the bare floor next to the cat but seeing no bug.

Gregg and I stood and listened but heard no further rattles or thuds.

"It must have been Harvey," I said, then stopped and listened intently; a very faint rhythmic buzzing could be heard in the distance.

"Do you hear that?" I asked Gregg.

We both leaned over the stair railing, listening.

"What is that?" replied Gregg looking perplexed.

"I have NO idea," I said as I started cautiously down the stairs followed closely by Gregg.

When we reached the bottom of the staircase, we both stopped and listened, trying to trace the source of the sound. The buzzing was definitely louder, and it seemed to be coming from the family room. I hit the light switch and looked at Ray curled cozily on the couch, twitching furiously in the throes of a dream. It can't be too bad, I thought to myself, if the dog is still sleeping.

Still mystified, we followed the noise to small alarm clock sitting atop a speaker next to the TV. The alarm function had been turned on, and since neither of us had ever used the clock as an alarm, neither of us recognized the noise.

"How did that get turned on?" asked Gregg incredulously.
"I have NO idea," I responded as I reached over and turned off the clock.*

We returned upstairs to bed. Just as I was pulling up the covers, I had a thought.

"Where's Juno?" I said, thinking that she is usually in the thick of anything that is going on at the moment.

"I don't know," said Gregg as we both climbed back out of bed to look for our pudgy dumpling.

I walked back out into the hallway. Harvey was still lying on his side next to the linen closet door. I reached over and slid open the bifold. Juno strolled out looking like she hadn't a care in the world.

I started laughing, turned, went back to bed, and laughed until I fell asleep.


*We still have no idea how the alarm got turned on. Our best guess is Harvey did it in an attempt to wake us up so that we would rescue Juno.