Addie

Over the past year and a half, I have pet-sat for my brother’s dog, Addie, many times. Since Chuck travels a lot with his job, he wanted Addie to visit with ‘Aunt Sheri’, Trey, and Maggie (my dog) as much as possible so she would have fun while he was gone. And fun she had whenever she was here.
Addie was a rescued Golden Retriever who had been operated on for cancerous tumors in her brain right before he got her. She looked scary at first, and was very timid until she ‘knew’ you, but was an incredibly loving dog who would have liked nothing better than to have her own human, dedicated to doing nothing but pet her 24 hours a day.
When she first started coming to my house, she would come out of Chuck’s car running as fast as she could get in the door, and then run down the hall to my bedroom to get one of my shoes to bring to me. Huh? Yes, she would bring me MY SHOE, not to give it to me, but to show me that she had a gift, the whole time making a sound like Chewbacca. She was so cute and funny.
I remember that first week she spent with ‘Aunt Sheri’. First off, she ate a dime that she found on the floor. I heard her rattling something around in her mouth and before I could get to her, she did one of those big GULP motions like a cartoon character as she swallowed the coin. I didn’t realize until she left that she had also eaten every snap off of the robe I covered her up with at night.
Yes, I let her sleep on the bed with me. My Maggie slept on the floor, but Addie HAD to be on the bed with me, and I figured that if I let her up there, she was less likely to wake me up at 3am to go outside (which she NEVER did at Chuck’s house)…she would get between the wall and my side of the bed and jam her stinky-breathed face into my nose, all the while banging her tail on the wall because she was that happy all the time. And the banging would not stop until I got out of bed to play with her.
Many times she would trick me into feeding her multiple times a day (and night) because I could not remember if I had already fed her and since she expected a treat for going outside to do nothing, I would fill up her food bowl AGAIN, hoping this would help her sleep longer.
Of course, Chuck did not have this problem with her. In fact, he told me if he had steaks lying all over his house, she would not take the first bite until/unless he told her she could. At my house she had her head in the bowl as I poured so it looked like she was eating from a fountain. And I caught her many times taking a chew toy or treat out of Maggie’s MOUTH just because she wanted another one. Yes, she had it made at my house.
Chuck would always call to ask if Addie was ‘on the roof’, which was a joke we had heard when we were little…
Phil goes on vacation to Europe and leaves his favorite dog, Max, with his younger brother James. While in Europe, Phil calls James to check on his dog, and asks: "So, James, how's my Max doing?"
James very tersely says, "Your dog is dead."
"What!?" says Phil, astonished. "You can't just tell someone that his favorite dog is dead without a warning! You have to ease him into it."
"How?" asks James.
"Well, the first day I call, tell me my dog is on the roof," remarked Phil. "Then tell me the dog is going to be fine and not to worry. The next day, when I call to ask about my dog, tell me that you were about to get her down, when she jumped off of the roof and broke her leg. Tell me the doctors say the dog will be okay, but it will have to stay at the vet's for a while. Are you getting all of this?"
"Yes," says James"
"Good," remarks Phil. "Then the next day, when I call back, tell me that there was severe internal bleeding that the vet didn't pick up, and that my favorite dog died at 2:00 this morning. That way it won't be such a shock to me. Got it?"
"Yes."
"Good, so, how's Grandma doing?" asks Phil.
"Well," James replies, "She's on the roof...."
To make a brief interruption in this blog, I must say that when Teri and her family went on their three-week vacation a few years ago and I was asked to ‘watch’ her sea monkeys (which, by the way, do not look like sea horses on the package, with crowns and vests on), I had to send her an email telling her that the sea horses were on the roof…
Back to Addie. Chuck would always say that she was happier than she was smart. He took her to a Golden Retriever Rescue event earlier this year and he said he had entered her in three ‘events’. I was surprised and asked if they had hula hoop dancing and stuff like what Trey did at his field days in elementary school. He said that although the events were real dog events, the dogs weren’t required to juggle chainsaws or spin plates. He said there was one event where she had to walk beside him. But being ‘our Addie’, she walked about 5 steps with him and then lost her focus and ran in a different direction. She was just like that. But when you called her name, she would ‘bounce’ all the way to you, and appear to be smiling while doing it.
She was not allowed on the furniture at Chuck’s house, but if I stood up from sitting on my sofa, before I could even get turned around, she would have jumped in my place, curled up in a ball, and closed her eyes, pretending to already be asleep. Chuck just could not believe she would do that. But she did.
And she thought my bed was her bed. She slept so close to me I would not be able to turn over because there wasn’t room. Occasionally she would sleep with her head on the pillows, but normally it was with her butt toward me so that when she unleashed her wretched farts they went straight into my face. The only time she would not get on the bed was if Kat was on it. Somehow, even though this is Maggie’s house, when they were here, Kat was the alpha pet, followed by Addie, and then Maggie. Wherever Kat was, Maggie tried to be…she loved Kat so much and really wanted to play with her, but all she did was slobber all over her head, and Kat definitely did not like that.
Anyway, as soon as Addie arrived every time, she would latch onto me and follow me every step I took. And if I was on the sofa, she would stand in front of me and slowly bring her head closer and closer to me until I could do nothing but pet her. She could go on like this for hours if I would let her, but Chuck told me to tell her, “Enough!” and she would go away. But he did not tell me that the only place she would go TO was one time around the coffee table and then right back in front of me, like in the 10 seconds she was gone I would have forgotten about the hour I had just spent petting her because this was a ‘brand new’ visit. Yes, I allowed her to do it to me because I felt like I just HAD to pet her or it would hurt her feelings. After the 6th or 7th time, though, I would make her go lie down, which was another little quirk about her. I had a throw rug on the floor in front of the tv, and Maggie never cared about it until Addie got on it, and all of a sudden it was prime real estate. If one walked off, the other was there in a flash to take her place.
Whenever she was here I would put on little dog costumes and then take pictures of her. I made copies for Chuck, and even made extras of the ‘Angel Addie’ ones for him to include in Christmas cards, but he didn’t send any out.
So when Addie’s cancer came back in June, and the vet didn’t think she could handle another surgery due to her age and the fact that she was on her 4th bout of cancer, I received an email one day that began with, “We had to put Addie down this morning.” And ended with, “I already miss her like crazy, but we had to do what was best for her and that's how it is. Even if I don't like it. At all.” I wished that he had begun the email with, “Addie is on the roof…”
I miss Addie a lot. I loved her, even though she annoyed me sometimes by being so needy. I even loved her when last year I had ordered on EBAY some of the ‘HOPE’, the praying beanie buddy bear to give to patients at the hospice and she chewed on one. I bought three of them and put them on the top of the entertainment center and just a minute later, Trey called out from the computer room, “Um…Mama…did you say Addie could have this?” I looked and one of the bears had fallen on the floor and she was running through the house with it in her mouth. I couldn’t help but laugh, though.
So here’s to Addie…a video I made with some of the photos I took of her… http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w0tcNwVTt6E
Hope you’re enjoying yourself in Heaven with Jackson!

More High School

When I was in high school and in the band , the flags and rifles had some really funny people as members. But the gross humor was always done by the lower brass or the percussion section. ALWAYS!
I remember one afternoon at practice we had been having problems with certain members of the band because they decided they wanted to have a little bit of fun, like speeding up the tempo or running into other people.
The drum major, who I'll call "Tony Shelton", was so mad because the band director was not at practice that afternoon, and no one would do what he ordered them to do. So he said that since nobody would behave, we would stand at attention for a while to get our focus back. So he called Attention! And everyone got quiet. And then one of the drummers farted. We all knew who did it (Dana), but "Tony" did not. He was so mad but he had long since lost control. Finally we just ended practice with "Tony" pouting.

On other days, when we had practice, our band director, who I'll call "Mr. Williams", was such a butthead, everyone knew not to mess with him. So when he would tell us to 'break off into sectionals', it meant we were to separate into groups (which we promptly re-named SEXUALS) to work on our own parts of the show. We would stand around as long as we could without him yelling at us from the tower of the stadium to get our butts in gear.

I have always been a defiant gal, (I know, it's hard for you to believe), and "Mr. Williams" and I got into our share of scuffles. I had very thick long hair, and we wore a cowboy hat with one side turned up. It was impossible for me to get my hair in the hat, which we were supposed to do. Finally we had to settle on a braid down my back, which I tucked down the back of my shirt during the show. "Mr. Williams" was an asshole.
So when we went to competitions, after we performed, we always had to wait in a very long line for a very long time to get our portrait taken. We were always ordered to look mean and tough in the pictures. I refused to do that. In fact, in nearly every picture of the band in my senior yearbook shows me being the only one in the band (besides the majorettes) with a great big smile. Oh, and I taught CeCe how to be as bad as me in this area. (see above picture)

Yes, I got in trouble for it, but I didn't care. I wasn't going to be in a picture and not smile. That would have been silly.

"Mr. Williams" hated me.

I loved being in the band and automatically having a place to sit at pep rallies, which they don't even have anymore. We used to have them for every home game, and they were so much fun.
During homecoming week, the Y-club (I have no idea what the Y meant, or what the club was about) would take up money in jars for some reason…I don't remember it being for a charity, but I can't for the life of me remember what it was for. ANYWAY, the Y-club would take up money during the week, and then at the pep rally, the seniors got to be on the gym floor in front of everyone to pull out these colored paper chains, the longest chain being for the class who raised the most money. The seniors were the only ones who got to participate in this honor, and that is the only reason I even joined the club.
I took up money. I pulled the giant chain out of the bag. And then I went back into the balcony, where the band sat. And I was so cool. Until I saw my picture in the yearbook. My 'friend', who I'll call "Tracey Collins" put her shoe over my head so it looks like she's standing on my head. Oh how nice.
I wanted to murderize her. Notice that she's got all of these letters and patches on her letter jacket. She was only supposed to have the flags on there, but the manufacturer mistakenly added the achievements of the drum major (who also lettered in tennis, among other things, and was the valedictorian of our class), so she had an interesting jacket.

I also learned many practical jokes from being in the band. One was very immature…okay, they ALL were immature…but we would stick maxi pads on people when they didn't know it and they would walk around with it stuck to their backs or their butts until somebody (ratted) notified them.
One day, CeCe and I were going somewhere with Robbie Moseley and someone else (I forget who). We had done the maxi pad thing to death so we would have to check our entire bodies for one after getting out of the car. We finally said we were calling a truce and nobody would do it to anyone else. And we promised. And then Robbie got out to pump gas in the car and with lightning speed, CeCe stuck a maxi pad on his back. I swear, I think I peed my pants, I was laughing so hard. And he was PISSED when he found out. So, of course, we made another truce. Absolutely. We promised…
I think our worst maxi pad 'event' was when we went to the Kroger in Lawrenceville where "Tony Shelton" worked. His car was parked in the lot in a way that he would only see the driver's side when he got off work and went to his car to leave. So we stuck maxi pads ALL OVER the passenger side of the car. Unfortunately we never got to see the reaction to the joke but I hope he rode around for days before anyone told him.
Unfortunately for ME, later that night, CeCe put a maxi pad on the passenger door of MY CAR. Since I parked so I only saw the driver's side of the car, I drove all the way to work with it stuck on the dark blue door. When I arrived, a co-worker was laughing and she asked me what that was on my door. Well, I had to walk past it to get in the building and I saw it (and wanted to kill her). I peeled it off, rolled it up, and put it in my trash can at work, thinking it would go out with the rest of the trash when the cleaning crew came that night. The next day, though, when I got to work, the sticky stuff on it made it stick to the trash bag. I didn't know that the cleaning crew just poured the trash into a larger can and left the bag in the individual cans. So I'm sure they saw that in my office and probably thought I was just nasty. I swear, I want to kill her again, just thinking about it!
SO I ended up diving into the trash can, getting the thing out, wrapping it in a tissue, and then putting it in a piece of paper and wadding the whole thing up.
My co-workers caught on, though, and I remember one day when a girl stuck one on the warehouse manager's back. Everyone was laughing so hard but trying not to. He even came to my desk and asked what everyone was laughing about. I had tears streaming down my face and couldn't even speak. He wore that on his shirt for about an hour. He even went over to the regional office to talk to the VP there, and nobody over there told him. I don't remember how he finally found out, but when he did, there was hell to pay. He was PISSED. I thought he was going to have a stroke, he was so mad. It still makes me laugh, though.
And that reminds me of another stupid thing 'we' did...one day when CeCe was working at our video game store, she asked me to go purchase some 'personal items' for her. I went to the drugstore, but when I got back, she was flirting with some guy so I took the item out of the bag ,walked up to the counter ,and handed her the box of tampons, saying, "Here's what you said you needed. I got back as fast as I could." If looks could kill....
I'll go ahead and say it so you don't have to… I'm so juvenile. But it suits me so well.

High school

When I was a senior in high school I was on the color guard (flag corps) in the band. Actually, I was in it all four years. But senior year our football team was incredibly wonderful, and the games kept going on and on. Even though we were doing the same show at every game, we still had to practice for about an hour and a half on Monday through Wednesday and then from 7-9 on Thursday. The games were at 8 (I think…the old memory is going fast!) on Fridays.
As the season went longer, my friends and I became bored from doing the same thing over and over, both at the games AND the competitions. So we started making it interesting by switching places and trying to do the routines from a totally opposite position. Then we moved on to putting our flags on upside down, wearing bright colored sweats under our skirts so there would be black skirt, black boots, and then yellow knees. At one of the games I sewed a big red heart on my flag. We knew we were gonna get in trouble, but do you think that stopped us?
At the last game I marched in, a friend (I’ll call her Katie Cowart) and I decided at a certain part of the show where all of the attention was on the percussion section at the front of the field that we would put down our flags, run up to the drum major’s podium and climb on, and then do a little ‘salute’ that we had made up the week before. Unfortunately for us, we added another move at the end that nearly got both of us expelled…we turned around with our backs to the crowd, bent over, and pulled up our skirts so you could see that the two of us had on gold satin bloomers with ruffles. The crowd seemed to enjoy it and we jumped down and finished the show with the rest of the band.
And then Monday came. Somehow we had not thought that 1. Anyone would know it was us,
2. It would be perceived as ‘mooning’ the crowd, since it looked like we were showing our panties (our skirts were knee-length), and
3. Anyone would be offended
Boy were we wrong. I don’t remember how we got away with just a stern scolding, but somehow we did. I think it was our fast thinking and, of course, our charm.
“Katie” and I still talk every once in a while. She told me last year that when she thinks of the 10 most embarrassing things she’s ever been a part of, I was with her 9 of those times. I suppose it’s good to be remembered for SOMETHING!
As it turned out, we won that game and our next one would be against Marist, a rich snooty school. Since I just KNEW we would beat them, just like we had beat every other team that came against us, I skipped the Marist game to go to Bennigan’s at Northlake Mall to celebrate Jerry’s 18th birthday with him, since he was my sweetie. I remember after dinner we were driving to our favorite place to ‘park’ and the results of the game were announced on the radio. We had lost. Jerry and I were shocked, because that meant I had just missed my last chance ever to march at a football game. Even though I loved him more than life itself, I couldn’t help being upset about missing the game.
So, kiddies, don’t do what I did, thinking you’ve always got a ‘next time’. You never know when your time here is up so you better make sure you use your time wisely. Do all the things you dream about. Don’t wait till later because you might not have ‘later’. Try to enjoy every moment.