I did it again—and again on a Tuesday!
I finished the whole New York Times crossword by using only the across clues. Since I subscribe to the puzzle online, it tells me when I finish whether I have it right. I had missed one letter, but when I corrected the spelling of the last word (I was off by a letter), I got it all.
One more for a hat trick!
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Serenity
Sometimes when the kids were little, I mostly wanted to pinch their little heads off, so it's gratifying now that they're all growed up when I get to see evidence that they're actually using them.
This case started, really, a year ago when the kids' friend Shrek moved in with us for the summer. He had just returned from several months in Swaziland, where he was helping his parents on a medical missionary project, and I was happy to be able to scrape out space in my mostly-unused upstairs to let him bunk with us while he tried to set himself up with a job and better digs.
Stuff happens. The renter who had been in his parents' place at a small "ranch" a few miles away was as ill-disposed toward paying rent to Shrek's parents as Shrek had been toward paying or working off the rent to me, so the family served her papers, booted her out, and moved Shrek into a tiny "caretaker's" house on the property. I hadn't heard much from him over the several months since he moved out except to know that he was supposed to have been dubbing some videos for my Soldier Son and me (which he didn't so very much do) and he "dog sat" for us a few times when both Number One Son and I had to be away from home at the same time.
Somewhere along the way, dad has buzzed through on a break from Swaziland, and for reasons we don't know, retrieved Shrek's yellow lab, Serenity, from Shrek's brother who had been caring for her in Austin. We were at best skeptical; Shrek had not done much in the way of caring for himself or his space while he was at my place, and we couldn't see a reason for Dad to trust him to care for the dog.
About 3 weeks ago, Shrek made the trip back to Swaziland for a mission trip with his family's church, and he asked NOS and me to watch Serenity while he was gone. Serenity is about 8 years old and a lovely beast, so NOS was happy to watch her. Since she's pretty low-maintenance, we figured we could move her over to our house to stay for the duration, and that would make caring for her a snap.
I don't remember how long after Shrek left it was before NOS brought her over here, but we soon saw that she was quite laden with fleas. I put my foot down: bathe her with flea shampoo, spray her down with some dog-approved spray I had, reduce the flea population significantly, or haul her back to the ranch.
NOS led her upstairs to his bathroom and washed her down. He came down several minutes later almost in tears: Serenity had so many fleas that two rounds of shampoo had not begun to get rid of them. "It's so bad that her butt's bleeding from her biting it so much," he said.
Much as I hated sending her back to the little ranch house, I insisted that she go. Since NOS's schedule wouldn't allow him to go care for her as much as he needed to, I agreed to a schedule that had him "on duty" in the early mornings and late nights, and I caught her once in between.
A few days later, one of Shrek's brothers drove into town to move some of his personal items from the ranch to his place a few towns away while Shrek's pickup truck was available for his use. NOS and I met the brother and his wife for dinner, then NOS drove the brother and me to the ranch. The brother was as upset at the sorry state of the little house as I was. Little Brother agreed with us that Serenity would need to be shaved and dipped before she could move to our house, and he assured us he'd come up with money to pay for it.
With that assurance, NOS scheduled a shave/dip with a local groomer, but the treatment was to be a week later and contingent on our presenting the paperwork to ensure that Serenity's rabies shot was up to date. That, of course, required telephone tag with the available brother to find out where to get the documentation, and a call to the vet showed that she hadn't had a shot in a couple of years.
While we waited to find out whether the brothers would cover the cost of the vet trip, I decided Serenity needed to live somewhere besides the filthy, flea-infested ranch house. NOS had taken a fan to the house, and I had propped open some windows that hadn't been open in months, but she still seemed pretty miserable. (I didn't find out until today that the house has a couple of small air conditioner units that would at least have made her more comfortable, but with the flea infestation, I'm not sure that would have been really helpful, anyway.)
I scouted around on the ranch and found a horse stall that for some reason had what I call "farm fencing" covering up the stall gate, which was initially the same wide-spaced pipe design that is normal for the ranch. Without the mesh of the farm fencing, Serenity would be able to slip out easily between the pipes, but the metal mesh was small and secure enough to keep her in. I moved her and her food and water to the horse stall (putting her bag of dog food up in a contraption that I suspect was designed to hold hay) and texted NOS to let him know what I had done.
NOS texted back several hours later to tell me she was fine and seemed happier and more comfortable out of the stale, stuffy, dirty house. She stayed in the horse stall for the next several days.
Then Soldier Son came home for R&R from Afghanistan. When he heard the story, he asked, "What are you waiting for? Where is the vet and how long will it be before they can see her?"
"Who's going to pay for her checkup and shots?" we asked him.
"Who cares? The dog hasn't been cared for properly. We need to get her in. I'll pay if I have to."
NOS got the number, called the clinic, and found out they could take her about as quickly as the boys would be able to get her there. They drove to the ranch, collected the dog, and headed for the vet.
The vet not only could give her the rabies shot she needed, but also give her a pill that was "guaranteed" to get rid of fleas that were on her within 30 minutes and to keep them from coming back. As extra precautions, they gave her a bath in their flea shampoo, recommended a topical, over-the-counter flea medication, and sent her home before closing time. SS picked her up in his car and brought her back home.
NOS knew Shrek had left several bug bombs at his place, so he went over a day or two later and set a couple of them off. "It's horrible," he reported when he got home; "the fleas are jumping all over the place, and it seems as if I had to wade into them up over my ankles." A couple of days later, he went back to set off two more of the bombs, and he reported that the situation wasn't really much better. "Shrek isn't taking Serenity back into that," he said. "He's not getting her back until he can get the place ready for her." As a precautionary measure, the brother who had borrowed the truck had arranged for another brother to take Serenity to live with him if Shrek didn't get the place cleaned up enough.
Shrek made it home late Friday afternoon, but NOS explained to him before he was very close to home that Serenity was healthy (except for a scratch across her face from an altercation with my Alpha Bitch), and he would have to earn her back by cleaning his place up and getting an exterminator to treat it for fleas.
This morning I had to take SS to the airport to head back to Afghanistan, and I asked him about the money Shrek owes for the care of his dog—over a hundred for the vet visit and a third of that again for the topical meds, which I had put on all three dogs when we saw that her residual fleas were getting on the Alpha Bitch, too.
"Doesn't matter," he said. "If he were responsible, he wouldn't have ever let her get in that condition, so I don't think he's likely to pay for her now. The important thing is Serenity."
My boys could both have just left her stuck in that hot little house or out in the stables without any company but the night critters, or they could have brought her to my place and infested my house and animals with her fleas. But they did what was right: the important thing is Serenity.
Guess they do use those tiny heads after all.
This case started, really, a year ago when the kids' friend Shrek moved in with us for the summer. He had just returned from several months in Swaziland, where he was helping his parents on a medical missionary project, and I was happy to be able to scrape out space in my mostly-unused upstairs to let him bunk with us while he tried to set himself up with a job and better digs.
Stuff happens. The renter who had been in his parents' place at a small "ranch" a few miles away was as ill-disposed toward paying rent to Shrek's parents as Shrek had been toward paying or working off the rent to me, so the family served her papers, booted her out, and moved Shrek into a tiny "caretaker's" house on the property. I hadn't heard much from him over the several months since he moved out except to know that he was supposed to have been dubbing some videos for my Soldier Son and me (which he didn't so very much do) and he "dog sat" for us a few times when both Number One Son and I had to be away from home at the same time.
Somewhere along the way, dad has buzzed through on a break from Swaziland, and for reasons we don't know, retrieved Shrek's yellow lab, Serenity, from Shrek's brother who had been caring for her in Austin. We were at best skeptical; Shrek had not done much in the way of caring for himself or his space while he was at my place, and we couldn't see a reason for Dad to trust him to care for the dog.
About 3 weeks ago, Shrek made the trip back to Swaziland for a mission trip with his family's church, and he asked NOS and me to watch Serenity while he was gone. Serenity is about 8 years old and a lovely beast, so NOS was happy to watch her. Since she's pretty low-maintenance, we figured we could move her over to our house to stay for the duration, and that would make caring for her a snap.
I don't remember how long after Shrek left it was before NOS brought her over here, but we soon saw that she was quite laden with fleas. I put my foot down: bathe her with flea shampoo, spray her down with some dog-approved spray I had, reduce the flea population significantly, or haul her back to the ranch.
NOS led her upstairs to his bathroom and washed her down. He came down several minutes later almost in tears: Serenity had so many fleas that two rounds of shampoo had not begun to get rid of them. "It's so bad that her butt's bleeding from her biting it so much," he said.
Much as I hated sending her back to the little ranch house, I insisted that she go. Since NOS's schedule wouldn't allow him to go care for her as much as he needed to, I agreed to a schedule that had him "on duty" in the early mornings and late nights, and I caught her once in between.
A few days later, one of Shrek's brothers drove into town to move some of his personal items from the ranch to his place a few towns away while Shrek's pickup truck was available for his use. NOS and I met the brother and his wife for dinner, then NOS drove the brother and me to the ranch. The brother was as upset at the sorry state of the little house as I was. Little Brother agreed with us that Serenity would need to be shaved and dipped before she could move to our house, and he assured us he'd come up with money to pay for it.
With that assurance, NOS scheduled a shave/dip with a local groomer, but the treatment was to be a week later and contingent on our presenting the paperwork to ensure that Serenity's rabies shot was up to date. That, of course, required telephone tag with the available brother to find out where to get the documentation, and a call to the vet showed that she hadn't had a shot in a couple of years.
While we waited to find out whether the brothers would cover the cost of the vet trip, I decided Serenity needed to live somewhere besides the filthy, flea-infested ranch house. NOS had taken a fan to the house, and I had propped open some windows that hadn't been open in months, but she still seemed pretty miserable. (I didn't find out until today that the house has a couple of small air conditioner units that would at least have made her more comfortable, but with the flea infestation, I'm not sure that would have been really helpful, anyway.)
I scouted around on the ranch and found a horse stall that for some reason had what I call "farm fencing" covering up the stall gate, which was initially the same wide-spaced pipe design that is normal for the ranch. Without the mesh of the farm fencing, Serenity would be able to slip out easily between the pipes, but the metal mesh was small and secure enough to keep her in. I moved her and her food and water to the horse stall (putting her bag of dog food up in a contraption that I suspect was designed to hold hay) and texted NOS to let him know what I had done.
NOS texted back several hours later to tell me she was fine and seemed happier and more comfortable out of the stale, stuffy, dirty house. She stayed in the horse stall for the next several days.
Then Soldier Son came home for R&R from Afghanistan. When he heard the story, he asked, "What are you waiting for? Where is the vet and how long will it be before they can see her?"
"Who's going to pay for her checkup and shots?" we asked him.
"Who cares? The dog hasn't been cared for properly. We need to get her in. I'll pay if I have to."
NOS got the number, called the clinic, and found out they could take her about as quickly as the boys would be able to get her there. They drove to the ranch, collected the dog, and headed for the vet.
The vet not only could give her the rabies shot she needed, but also give her a pill that was "guaranteed" to get rid of fleas that were on her within 30 minutes and to keep them from coming back. As extra precautions, they gave her a bath in their flea shampoo, recommended a topical, over-the-counter flea medication, and sent her home before closing time. SS picked her up in his car and brought her back home.
NOS knew Shrek had left several bug bombs at his place, so he went over a day or two later and set a couple of them off. "It's horrible," he reported when he got home; "the fleas are jumping all over the place, and it seems as if I had to wade into them up over my ankles." A couple of days later, he went back to set off two more of the bombs, and he reported that the situation wasn't really much better. "Shrek isn't taking Serenity back into that," he said. "He's not getting her back until he can get the place ready for her." As a precautionary measure, the brother who had borrowed the truck had arranged for another brother to take Serenity to live with him if Shrek didn't get the place cleaned up enough.
Shrek made it home late Friday afternoon, but NOS explained to him before he was very close to home that Serenity was healthy (except for a scratch across her face from an altercation with my Alpha Bitch), and he would have to earn her back by cleaning his place up and getting an exterminator to treat it for fleas.
This morning I had to take SS to the airport to head back to Afghanistan, and I asked him about the money Shrek owes for the care of his dog—over a hundred for the vet visit and a third of that again for the topical meds, which I had put on all three dogs when we saw that her residual fleas were getting on the Alpha Bitch, too.
"Doesn't matter," he said. "If he were responsible, he wouldn't have ever let her get in that condition, so I don't think he's likely to pay for her now. The important thing is Serenity."
My boys could both have just left her stuck in that hot little house or out in the stables without any company but the night critters, or they could have brought her to my place and infested my house and animals with her fleas. But they did what was right: the important thing is Serenity.
Guess they do use those tiny heads after all.
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