What Would Poodle Do?

Two Views of Casa de Poodle

2012-02-13T14:20:00.003-06:00

Sparkle and Heft

2012-02-08T20:03:00.000-06:00

Sparkle and heft is the new gorgeous and interesting. Twenty twelve got off to a stunningly bad start. But it's okay. I am okay.

New Year, New Bathroom

2012-01-19T21:04:00.000-06:00

Few people will ever be able to appreciate this photo because few people ever saw the original arrangement. But here it is! Glowing white. Pristine like an operating suite. And I love it!

New Wall Color for a New Year

2012-01-01T10:07:00.002-06:00

2000-2009

2011-12-31T07:58:00.002-06:00

In thinking about the past year, I remembered this recap I'd written of 2000-2009. I hadn't read it since.

Highlights (and lowlights) from a decade, in more or less chronological order.

I moved from Tuscaloosa, Alabama, to Lewisville, Texas, to take a PR job. I’d purchased my first house only a few months before and was dating a quirky-cool photographer who I had great sex with every single day. But when the opportunity to ditch it all for a ridiculous salary in a state in which I was not born presented itself I didn’t think twice. The boyfriend did not try to stop me. My family thought I'd lost my mind.

Upon arriving in Texas, I took up with a brown-eyed handsome man from my industry. He was older, Republican, religious, and wrong for me from the start. So was the job. I cried a lot.

I quit my high-paying job to freelance full-time. Correction: I quit my high-paying job to stop the nonstop tears. I began freelancing full time to avoid the poorhouse. I quit the wrong-for-me-boyfriend. My family thought I'd lost my mind. Again.

September 11.

After he answered my ad on Match.com, I began dating Patrick, who would be the greatest love of my life, the hottest sex of my life, and the person who most altered the course of my choices.

I went to work at a magazine in Fort Worth, Texas, which was neither well written nor ethically sound. It would have been a total wash save for two people whom I met and adore to this day.

Patrick and I broke up after he lost his job when the tech bubble burst. I started seeing an ex punk rocker/drug dealer with the biggest cock you can imagine (save for that one guy in high school).

I quit another job.

I broke up with the punk and got back together with Patrick. I had only the slightest clue as to how I was hurting myself. Like a cutter, I knew I was never not in pain, but the pain was so much less when I was with him, so I persisted.

I solidified some friendships from OD that would become some of the most important relationships of my life.

I began working for D Magazine, had a major meltdown only a few months in, and was essentially demoted, which revealed my true professional calling: that of copy editor.

I moved to Uptown Dallas, which proved to be just what I’d been looking for in terms of a neighborhood.

I started therapy with an amazing therapist named Sandra. I discovered that my mother was every bit as responsible for the wreck I am as my father.

I broke up with Patrick, not really thinking it would be the end. It was.

I took a trip to Guatemala, which gave me dozens of hours of uninterrupted time to think.

I quit my job again. I called a moving van. I moved to New York City to be near my girls. I figured my family might try to have me committed.

I got an apartment in Park Slope. I took a job at DailyCandy.

I laughed. I played. I cried. I ate at nice restaurants. I worked my ass off. I met Kevin. I drank. I hated my roommates. I saved my money. I felt loved. I felt alone. I put on a happy face. I slipped into a depression. I got an HIV test. I got a Lupus test. I got a bunch of other tests. Nothing was wrong with me.

Somewhere in there was Hurricane Katrina. I cried a lot. I got a therapist who sat in a recliner and made sad faces at me.

My friends left the city. I bought a house in Alabama. I kept my job in New York.

I moved to the beach. It was great. Until it wasn’t.

The real estate market crashed. Unemployment soared. My dog got sick.

I helped a fancy black man become president of the United States. And I went to his inauguration.

My mother accused me of having an affair with my stepfather. I moved back to Dallas.

My dog got sicker. I spent all my love and all my money taking care of her. I couldn’t save her. I had to let her go.

My mother and stepfather got a divorce, making me a child of double-divorce.

And that's how I enter a new decade. In these '00s, I loved hard and lost mercilessly. I took chances and had adventures grand and small. I observed as things fell down and sometimes I tore them down myself, if only to see if I could build them back up. And usually I could. And sometimes I was wrong. But sometimes I was right. I learned to be a true friend. And I learned to let lots of people love me. Oh, it could have been better. But it could have been worse. And if you believe in that kind of thing, it was exactly as it should be. I don't think I could have done anything differently anyway.

Poodle Lamp

2011-12-27T10:40:00.002-06:00

Twenty thousand dollars in
and my favorite part of the remodel is a $40 paper chandelier.

First Fire of the Season

2011-11-26T13:40:00.002-06:00

Poodle ponders the flames.

It's nice, mom.

I love my little space so much. And on a damp, blustry, gray day such as today, it's the perfect little hideout. We're enjoying tea and cookies and HBO. There's a lot of happiness in this space.

Shots From the Trot

2011-11-25T11:11:00.000-06:00

Peluso, ready to run!

Pre-run!

Post-run! We did it!

Thanksgiving Pie Try

2011-11-23T21:53:00.002-06:00

The Great Apple Pie Debacle of 2011.

Sad face on the pie here. I followed Sarah's recipe not once but twice. Yes, indeed. This is a second attempt at a first pie crust. Let's hope it tastes better than it looks. The good news here is that I have had many laughs over this pie, whereas a few years ago the situation would have devastated me. Oh, yes. I took it all very seriously, and when the layers of a multilayered Thanksgiving cake for Patrick's family slid all over the trunk of the car I was so upset I could barely eat that day.

I sent Sarah a pic of the pie and she wrote back: LMFAO. Cooking is comedy kids. At least when the Rogue Chef is in charge.

Love yous.

Rogue Chef Roots

2011-11-17T19:24:00.002-06:00

I wrote to my dad to ask him for his cornbread dressing recipe. Here's what I got in return. I think the roots of the Rogue Chef are apparent here. The plum didn't fall far from the tree.

OK, Here goes. Make a good size pan of cornbread the way you normally do. I never use more than one egg in a big pan of cornbread. I like to mix my cornbread batter sorta dry rather than soupy. That way the bread comes out course and dry. But any way will do.

Now, after your cornbread is browned and cooled, crumble it up by hand in an extra large bowl, like one of those stainless steel things. Add to this crumbled up bread, a couple of stalks of celery chopped into 1/4 inch chunks. Add to this mixture one chopped up onion. stir all of this together. Now, pour in a can or two of chicken broth (the low fat stuff is not as good.) Keep stirring the mixture and adding broth until the mixture is really, really soupy. It may take several cans of broth. If you have cooked a turkey pour in some of the drippings to enhance the broth. I do not like to use all drippings instead of broth since it makes it too greasy.

Finally, after your mixture is soupy, be very, very, very careful with the poultry seasoning. (But a fresh container of poultry seasoning, do not use old stuff) Put in a very small dash of seasoning. Stir in well and taste. Keep adding very small dashes, stirring and tasting until you get it seasoned to your liking. Remember, raw dressing taste just like cooked dressing, except I have found the seasoning seems to enhance somewhat after it is cooked. You can ruin your dressing my over seasoning. But do not leave it out.

Use No sage or any of that other junk. Use only poultry seasoning (sparingly.)

As you can see there are no eggs except what is in the cornbread.

Preheat your oven and one of those approx 10x13 dressing pans. After the pan is preheated, grease it really, well. Sometimes I even pour in a little cooking oil. Fill the hot greased pan almost to the top. This mixture will rise very, very little.

Cook at about 375 for about one hour or until golden brown. When you push down on the top it should bounce back, but not as hard as cornbread. I like mine cooked sorta soft. Others like it hard.

If it Ain't the best you ever tasted, save it for me. Hope this helps.

Second Annual DailyCandy Dinner with Friends

2011-10-11T22:29:00.003-05:00

Those years in New York City were a moment in time. Many moments in time, perhaps. Including time spent working for a sweet little start-up in Soho. I got lucky the day I walked into this, fresh off the Texas plains. I would be slow to love them, but what we shared before a little thing got bigger would not be replaced by what came next. And each of us will cling to it, and in a way to each other, for the rest of our lives.

Sunday Funday

2011-10-02T23:03:00.000-05:00

Christine and I had an early dinner at The Common Table (the name = very appropriate) and then saw Hair at the Winspear. My favorite part was the yarn bombing that had taken place outside the theater. It tickled my inner 5-year-old. I could have just skipped the show and stayed outside with the knits all night.

Fall Friday Fun

2011-09-30T21:28:00.000-05:00

Happy hour!

I am so lucky to have such nice friends in the neighborhood. We met after work for some beers at the Katy Trail Ice House. The weather is finally gorgeous, and as much as I like sitting outside at a picnic table, what I really wanted was a hammock. Notice I am wearing a huge sweater, because I break out in chill bumps when it drops below 80. Happy fall!

Fun With Friends

2011-09-24T21:34:00.000-05:00

Linda, Stirling, Christine, and I drove an hour north to run through the dust and mud today. Good times outside!

Before we hit the track.

And after.

Playtime for Poodle

2011-09-18T12:39:00.001-05:00

Yesterday was Wags and Waves. Peluso had a ball! We got home late afternoon. Me sunburned. Him exhausted. Can't wait till next year!

It took him about 40 minutes to warm up to the idea
of the water, but once he did he was racing around like one happy dog!

He was curious about the balls,
but never went in the water after one.

We got in a float, but only in about an inch of water.

Here we are, taking a break.

We're drying out before going home.

Dinner with Friends

2011-09-15T08:12:00.001-05:00

Last Friday I had my first dinner party in my new place. I've been here more than two years, but with all the remodeling, I just didn't feel ready to have a lot of people over at once. Finally, I got things far enough along to entertain. I invited four girlfriends because I have five chairs. And then I got a very special surprise guest: Stephanie was in from Austin, so we made it six -- and I stood at the bar and ate.

Steph brought the figs and brie.

I made Thai tomato bisque.

I also made the cilantro pesto to go with
smoked mozzarella and roasted red pepper ravioli.

Dessert was vanilla ice cream with butter cookies.

A well-fed crowd: Sarah, Rhonda, Christine,
Me, Laura, Stephanie, Peluso

Bogey

2011-09-14T12:46:00.002-05:00

Bogey in the beddie.

It's true, Bogey has not appeared on the poodle blog in a long time. So, without further ado and greatly overdue, here's the old man himself. In repose: his favorite activity. The little guy is 14.5 now and his hearing is greatly diminished. I can stand right above him and say his name over and over and he will continue to snooze as if I am not offering him a cheeseburger. When I come in from being out, most of the time he does not greet me right away. It might take five minutes for him to identify the sound of my voice from downstairs and rouse himself to say hello. It might not be until I go up to wake him that he actually realizes I am home. He's not a great playmate for Peluso, who just stands and barks at his brother, as if to say, "Come on! Let's play! Get up! Let's play!" In response, Bogey just stares at him with eyes that say, "Simmer down, kid. There's simply nothing to be that excited about." For the most part, he sleeps — as he is now, snoring at my feet.

Thanks for asking, anonanoter.

Surprise Thank You

2011-09-14T08:30:00.002-05:00

I house/dog sat for a family here in town last month. It was in a cute part of town and nice to have so much space. I loved their midcentury house and Peluso had a great time with his doggie playmate. Yesterday two boxes arrived on my doorstep. I couldn't image whom they were from.

They were from the Karlisch family -- and almost too pretty to open.

But finally I did open them.

The smaller one was a candle that smells like tomatoes (!!)
and the larger one was doggie salt and pepper shakers.

What a marvelous surprise. I love them so much!

The Happy List

2011-08-20T13:24:00.001-05:00

Celebrating 51 weeks of la vida buena.

Trailercake treats. Got 'em! Ate 'em!

Most swoozy old-fashioned romantic album ever compiled.

Hair Cute

2011-08-17T10:02:00.001-05:00

I don't have on any makeup but you can get a look at my new hair cute. And my cute place!

Poodle Pic

2011-07-30T21:07:00.000-05:00

Me, Stirling, Christine, Linda.

It was 0 for 2 for weekend events. Thursday night, my dates bailed. Friday night, the band bailed. However, prior to the ant bites and the midshow meltdown, we got our picture made in the grass.

Baby, It's Hot Outside

2011-07-26T21:25:00.000-05:00

So, so restless. The heat I think has made me restless. I want. I want. I want.

I spend hours contemplating a gray velvet sofa. With dogs? That's just silly. But oh so pretty. I want. I want. I want. I want a gray velvet sofa. And a new desk chair. And white chairs for my kitchen table. And that gray and orange rug I saw in that photo with the gray velvet sofa.

I look online for houses to rent in Montana. Surely it is cooler there. What about San Miguel de Allende? I could take Peluso to visit that city from whence he came. I hear it's cooler there this time of year. And Vancouver! It's got to be cooler in Vancouver!

And I want a new car. A neighbor just got a tiny one series BMW. I'd never seen one and I fell madly in love. But I want an Audi. A little white Audi. An Audi is so much more me than a BMW. Except for that tiny one series BMW. Hmmm. Oh, and a scooter! That way I could just scoot over to my new Pilates class!

Spanx just came out with a line of workout clothes. So naturally I want those to wear to my new Pilates class. I wanted new walking shoes. So I got them. I did give in to that.

I want the Nespresso Pixie. Yes, I do. And a bunch of Woolly Pockets, so I can create a succulent garden on both side walls of my balcony.

But I don't buy any of these things (except the tennies) because I am worried about the debt ceiling, the unbalanced budget, the wavering stock market, the possibility of tax reform that would eliminate the mortgage interest deduction for second homes. If it's not one thing, it's another.

At least I have peaches. And blueberries. And tomatoes. And corn.

Close Encounters of the Rhett Miller Kind

2011-07-02T10:07:00.005-05:00

Probably my favorite Rhett Miller photo of all time.

In honor of the release of The Grand Theatre Vol. 2 next Tuesday, I am posting this lucious photo of the sweet blue-eyed darling himself. I will also tell you about my ballpark encounter with the seriel lady killer.

Last weekend I went with some friends to a Rangers game, and while we were walking to our seats, I spotted Rhett with his little son, Max. Now this never happens to me -- celebrity spotting. Offstage, I recognized exactly one celebrity the entire time I lived in New York (Morley Safer). Once, before I lived in New York, I bumped shoulders with a girl who looked exactly like Drew Barrymore. And when I said, "That girl looks exactly like Drew Barrymore!" my friend said to me, deadpan, "That was Drew Barrymore." At least once a week someone at work would come back from lunch just having had an eyeful of Heath Ledger or Leonardo deCaprio or Scarlett Johansson. I went out on those same streets, to those same stores and lunch spots and I never recognized anyone. So suffice it to say, when I spot Rhett Miller in a crowd I am very excited, not just because it's Rhett Miller but also because I HAVE SPOTTED A CELEBRITY!

Later, when we are looking for an escape from the heat, I SEE HIM AGAIN! This time he is going into the shop where they sell hats and t-shirts and stuff.

I mention all this to my friends, of course. And one of them says something like, "Oh, I have his number right here. Let me text him for you." And the next thing you know, like six innings later, Rhett Miller and little Max and Rhett's brother (whose name I cannot remember) and that brother's little son/Rhett's nephew are there propped up on the empty seats in front of us, and he's telling us about how a fly ball just bonked him in the arm. And he shows us the ball. This is after he says hello to everyone and I say, "Good to see you again," because it's the sixth time we've been introduced in a small setting and it's starting to feel dumb to pretend like it's never happened before. So I just shake his hand and lean back in my seat and think:

Be cool. Don't act stupid.
Wow. His brother looks exactly like him, only darker and sharper.
What a freaking cute kid. Of course his kid is cute.
Be cool. Don't act stupid.

At one point, while he was talking, Rhett reached out and instinctively touched Max on his torso. Just sort of a protective little touch that didn't call attention to itself. I bet he touches everyone he loves like that.

Also at one point he said that the next night the Old 97's were playing at the Fort Worth Botanical Garden and the wheels in my head started to turn and I started to think, "Oh well I have to go to that. I will have to get up early tomorrow and get all my work done so I can go to that. I wonder what time it is? I am sure tickets are still available. I wonder where I will park?" But then later I found out that they are playing after a Rangers game this month and I was like, "Whew. Okay. I don't need to go to Fort Worth tomorrow because I can just come right back here and see them sing in a few weeks."

And so that's how it went. He sat right there and talked to us with his family. Just nice as can be and laughed when he told a story about when he was sitting behind Seal at the Super Bowl and he felt like Seal = platinum, Old 97's = tin foil. (And I was thinking, "Seal = yum.") And then he left. And the guy who had texted him who was Rhett's actual friend turned to me and said, "Do you still think he's hot, even when he's sweaty?" And I said, "He can fling his sweat on me anytime."

Happy Fourth of July, kids. God Bless Rhett Miller, I mean America.

We Heart Summer

2011-06-30T21:19:00.000-05:00

We spent a few hours on the patio at Hotel Palomar this evening, getting to know our fellow dogs and owners at a fundraiser for Operation Kindness. I sipped a beer. Peluso sniffed some butts. We both enjoyed a cheeseburger. We relaxed into the heat, as the stress of the day drifted away. Thank you, summer.

Dear Handbag, Will You Marry Me?

2011-06-26T18:03:00.000-05:00

Marc Jacobs Save the Birds Lenny Bag

Hoping that yesterday's victory for gay marriage in New York is a step toward allowing me to marry this handbag. It is gorgeous. Soft. Buttery. Light as a feather. Smells so good. Really it's so perfect and pretty I am scared to carry it. I am madly in love with it. I want to grow old with it.

The Happy List

2011-06-18T23:03:00.000-05:00

It was a Brooklyn kind of night.

An incredible vintage outfit that never, ever goes out of style.

A day of volunteer work well done.

Air conditioning on a day when it's still 90 degrees at midnight.

Hair long enough to pull back in a pony tail.

My marvelous furry boys.

Naps!

Trailercakes.

Guilty pleasure: Toddlers & Tiaras.

If I Were a Season, I Would Be Summer

2011-06-11T12:03:00.000-05:00

Happy Place

2011-06-06T10:51:00.002-05:00

I will be calling upon this happy place for the next few days.

Today Is My Poodleversary

2011-05-27T09:38:00.001-05:00

The lady as a baby.

We were a perfect match right from the beginning.

The Happy List

2011-05-16T16:44:00.001-05:00

My little beach house.

Spending a marvelous evening with an old friend who you've been trying to find for years.

Seeing grandparents still looking strong.

A late afternoon walk on the beach.

Ten solid hours in the comfiest bed on Earth.

Crawfish pasta.

The first sweet, sweet crop of Chilton County peaches.

A movie so funny you can't wait to see it again.

Seeing an old boyfriend and not feeling sad for yourself, only for him.

This silly/funny/perfect sentence painted on my beach house patio.

The Happy List

2011-04-27T21:01:00.002-05:00

Starting the day with a mango.

Finishing another new book.

Sweet, sweet dogs.

Super soft new jeans.

A little sunshine.

Direct deposit.

The option to work at home anytime I want.

The option to go downtown and work anytime I want.

Someone on staff catching a homophone error before it goes to print.

The luxury of spending half an hour with people I adore looking up the origins of the New Kids on the Block, the filmography of Marky Mark, videos of Marky Mark and the Funky Bunch, and naked pictures of Marky Mark.

Driving home with a smile on my face and a giggle in my heart.

Lyle Lovett on the radio -- and at the DSO in June.

Creamed cauliflower with cheese.

The Daily Show.

Snuggling under the covers.

Sunday Funday - Easter in the Park

2011-04-25T20:48:00.000-05:00

Free hugs for Easter.

Teenage Dream

2011-04-18T15:18:00.000-05:00

I am completely obsessed with this OPI nail polish from the Katy Perry collection. It is called Teenage Dream and it is the palest pink with silver glitter. It's like my nails are going to the high school prom. I have to go out and get a whole case so that I never run out.

Disclaimer: not my hand.

Sunday Funday: The Warrior Edition

2011-04-17T21:50:00.004-05:00

What a fun time today's Warrior Dash was. I am not great at running but I am a superhero at obstacles. I bet you wouldn't guess that about me. But I can take a 20-foot wall in almost a single bound. I'll definitely do this again soon.

Running mates.

Ready to rumble!

Right after we crossed the finish line.

You need to replenish your potassium right away.

Headed to the shower.

Feeding my warrior face.

Biggest turkey leg I have ever seen.

Craziest day of my life? Not really. But loads of fun.

Muddy sneaks for charity.

It's Coming Along

2011-04-03T10:23:00.000-05:00

Mostly done here!

Mostly done here, too!

Credenza to be painted. Art over the fireplace not staying.

Ignore the lighting, the ceiling, the unfinished cabinet.

Looking good!

April's Cool Day

2011-04-02T17:58:00.001-05:00

On the patio at Cane Rosso.

Sunday Funday: St. Patty's Day Edition

2011-03-13T09:19:00.002-05:00

The fun was had on Saturday this week: Many hours of Saint Patricksing, which began with a 45-minute walk from Laura's apartment to the parade on Greenville and ended with a cheeseburger at The Landing. Here are the highlights of what was an oft-confusing display of Irish and otherwise.

A beer float makes sense.

But it seems like Santa got lost on the way home.

Jeff Whittington makes sense.

But Tim's sombrero confuses me.

Leprechaun, yes.

Devil, no.

Drinking orders, okay.

But the IRA?

And now, just pictures of friends, who are rarely confusing.

Silly Sarah and Rhonda.

Sillier Eric and Joe. (No, they are not gay.)

St. Happy Day.

Gaggle of girlfriends.

Sunday Funday: The Culture Edition

2011-03-06T21:22:00.003-06:00

In today's edition of Sunday Funday, Julie and I hit the Nasher Sculpture Center for the Alexander Calder exhibit and lunch al fresco and then took in a performance of the Texas Ballet Theater at the Winspear Opera House. My, aren't we citified?!

I was nearly assaulted by security for snapping this photo.
Apparently you cannot take pictures of the Calders.

Chinese chicken salad by Wolfgang Puck.

Julie and me in front of the decapitated men.

The weather was just right.

Through the keyhole.

A view from near the secret bathroom at the Winspear.

There was an audible gasp from the audience when the curtain
went up on the third ballet, Balanchine's Theme and Variations.

Sunday Funday: Fort Woof

2011-03-01T22:26:00.000-06:00

The kids and I went to Fort Worth weekend before last to hang with my pal Brenda and her new two-legged dog called Vessie. Dallas has nothing like the dog park there and we all had a brilliant time.

Brenda and Vessie.

Vessie in the sun.

Puppy love.

Happy boy.

Family photo.

The Award for Best Sunday Funday Goes to ...

2011-02-28T19:29:00.001-06:00

***Jessica's awesome Oscar-watching party***

The menu included True Grit(s) and Shrimp,
Black Swan cookies, and Boston Baked Beans.

It was a night among stars.

Sarah does Winter's Bone.

Laura does The Fighter.

I do Black Swan. Jessica does Hollywood glam.

Happy Days

2011-02-26T21:44:00.000-06:00

I took Peluso to a chipping clinc and I met his cousin, The Fonz. What could I say but "Ayyy."

The Fonz.

Hangin' with Potsie and Richie.

Being the coolest is hard work.

The 2011 Purchase of the Year

2011-02-23T18:43:00.000-06:00

Thirty-two cases of bamboo flooring -- and then some.

My Fuzzy Valentine

2011-02-14T11:42:00.002-06:00

Who Wants a Cookie?

2011-01-29T20:15:00.002-06:00

Dog cookies.

When I was a little girl, 5 years old or so, my mother stopped the car one winter night to pick up a woman and child who were walking along the road in the dark. The girl was younger than I was, maybe 2 or 3. We took them to our house and my mother fixed us all hot chocolate. I drank mine. And when I was done I realized that the other little girl still had hot chocolate left. I was hurt. Angry even. I accused my mother of giving the other girl more hot chocolate than she'd given me. And then she explained that the girl was a baby, and that she was drinking her drink more slowly than I had, that it wasn't a matter of how much I'd been given but how quickly I'd consumed it.

I was reminded of this memory last weekend when I bought a couple of cookies for my doggies. I brought them home and gave them to Peluso and Bogey. Bogey chomped chomped chomped his. Swallowed it down. All gone. He looked over at Peluso, who was very slowly licking the carob coating off his cookie. Bogey looked up at me, seemingly to say, "Why did you give him more?" Peluso just kept licking his cookie. How do you explain to a dog that it wasn't a matter of how much, but a difference in how quickly?

Rogue Chef, Sunday Baking Edition

2011-01-02T12:33:00.004-06:00

Starting the New Year with a bang in the kitchen. I've got four things I am going to make this week, two of which I made today. And it's just noon. I read yesterday that Americans spend more time watching cooking shows than they do cooking. I aim to even out that statistic in 2011. So. For today:

PEANUT BUTTER AND BANANA DOG TREATS

Parsley, egg, banana.

Plus oats, wheat flour, peanut butter.

Cookies on the pan.

Peluso tries one out.

Pile of treats!

QUINOA PECAN MUFFINS

Quinoa flour not available. So I used wheat.

And it turned out just fine.

Better than fine.

Tasty but not at all sweet.

Hello, 2011. Let's Be Friends!

2011-01-01T11:50:00.006-06:00

Portrait of a 40-year-old.

I’ve been 40 since I was 16. I am delighted to be finally walking legitimately among my people. I don’t relate to feeling a lot of anxiety over growing older. The truth is, I think those people are confusing the whole experience of growing older with physical aging. They seem so sad that they will have a sagging ass (you will. You will have a sagging ass eventually). Perhaps that is the advantage of having had a sagging ass since your teens. You already know what that feels like and you haven’t tied your self-worth to your nice high round butt. Tie your self-worth to your smarts, your relationships, your abilities to win friends and influence people, and growing older feels like winning the lottery. I am really and truly happy in this world. And I’ve got no doubt that 40 is going to be fabulous. Glad to meet you, 2011. Let’s dance.

Petits fours = delicious.

Steph = with me.

Group shot at The Grape = thanks, my pretties.

Mary = a marvelous treat.

Marquis = no.

VIP section = yes.

Friends = yes.

BBJ = only so so.

Allison = with Christine.

Allison = with Rhonda.

Steph = with it!

Junior = drunk.

Hayes Carll = fanfuckingtastic.

Evan = good sport and sweetheart.

This guy = no idea (but wouldn't mind knowing).

This photo = duck faces.

Some Things I Meant to Blog About but Didn't

2010-12-26T09:51:00.004-06:00

Laura's Hat's On birthday party.

World Series Game Five.

Paws in the City '80s party.

A trip to Camden, Alabama, to see old friends.

The D Mag Christmas party and this winning sweater.

Rogue Chef, December Edition

2010-12-19T21:51:00.000-06:00

Work in progress.

When I opened my food processor birthday present from Sarah, I knew immediately what I was going to make: butternut squash soup. Recently I'd seen someone make it on TV and I thought I remembered the recipe. So I pulled out what I thought were the ingredients and whipped it up. I was starving, so there was no time to look up a recipe or read the directions for the machine. I would just wing it, in true Rogue Chef style. And though perhaps a little carroty, it was divine.

I could eat this every day.

What Would Poodle Wear?

2010-12-19T21:40:00.001-06:00

I love this dog so much. What a marvelous job he as done filling my hollow heart. Here he is in his first sweater, which he needed after his first big boy buzz cut. When I put it on him he immediately tried to take it off. I doubted he'd wear it a whole day, but he did. And he looks so darn cute in it.

Cute!

Get this damn thing off me!

Oh okay!

Fashion is exhausting.

Christmas at the Beach

2010-12-05T19:21:00.002-06:00

There was a little parade.

And a long line to see Santa.

Plenty of local flavor on the boardwalk.

Deck the lifeguard stand with boughs of holly.

And sink your toes into the snow white sand.

It's not too cold for wakeboarding.

Shadow angels.

It will be.

Santa baby, I've been nice.

Sunday Funday: Peluso's First Trip to the Gulf

2010-12-04T13:32:00.002-06:00

I took the kids down to the beach last Sunday. Totally illegal and totally worth it, so long as you don't get caught.

Bogey contemplates the sea.

Chasing waves.

Brothers on the beach.

A romp on the sand.

Self portrait with P.

What Would Poodle Gobble?

2010-11-25T18:15:00.001-06:00

Thanksgiving roses, right from the yard.

Happy Thanksgiving from the land of lyme disease, racial slurs, and Captain Compliant. It was 80 degrees here today. I am thankful for warm weather. I am also thankful for grandparents who live into their 80s, sweet potato dumplings, and therapy, which gave me a new way to deal with my family and be in the world.

Sweet potato dumplings.

Pop eats pie.

Dessert duo.

Holiday Hatfields.

Clean Plate Club.

Sunday Funday in D.C.

2010-11-02T13:34:00.002-05:00

There was no restoration of sanity because the subway was full. And it was just as well. I was exhausted from four days in New York and was happy to plant myself on the couch and watch it all on TV. The next day: Halloween. Sarah, Jeff, and I carved a few jack-o'-lanterns to mark the occasion.

Gourdeous.

There's a pumpkin under her shirt!

This is my spider.

Finished products.

What Would Poodle Type

2010-10-21T16:37:00.002-05:00

Illustration: Tyson Smith for D Magazine

I wrote a story.
You should read it.

Rogue Chef, October Edition

2010-10-16T19:31:00.001-05:00

Very excited about this easy new dish, which I copied from something in the prepared foods case at Whole Foods. Quinoa, chick pea, and zucchini salad, which I served myself tonight in a roasted acorn squash. It's vegan, low-fat, and loaded with nutrients. I will be eating this a lot this fall.

Poodle with Haircut

2010-10-14T15:45:00.000-05:00

You've come a long way, puppy.

Haircut with Poodle

2010-10-12T20:11:00.000-05:00

Peluso Goes for the Pesos

2010-10-08T07:54:00.005-05:00

Fuzzy monkey got in my wallet.

A Fair to Remember

2010-10-05T19:39:00.002-05:00

Big Tex.

A prize every time.

Pick-a-duck.

Fried Elvis.

Corn dog crazy.

Welcome to the world, donkey!

All faired out.

Cooking With Dog

2010-10-03T22:20:00.001-05:00

Misty Poodle-Colored Memories

2010-09-26T19:44:00.009-05:00

A poodle stole this boule.

After I took Trellis to the vet and fed her a whole package of treats and cried into her fur and signed a bunch of papers saying that I was making the decision on my own and held her while the nice vet injected her with whatever in the world shut her body off, I left her body there to be cremated and placed in a pet cemetery. Or "cremated and placed in a pet cemetery." Who knows really what happens? I don't. And I don't care to find out.

I didn't want a box of poodle sitting around my house. I couldn't imagine having something like that as the years passed. Cleaning my house and picking up a little box of ashes to dust around it. At some point guiltily moving it from honored public spot to closet shelf or desk drawer. Prolonging the agony for nothing really. Just a box of poodle dust. Of course, when I put it like that I think of pixie dust and think, "Shoot. Poodle dust. I actually would like some of that."

Had we still lived in Brooklyn, I would have had her ashes returned to me and sprinkled them at Prospect Park during off-leash hours. She loved Prospect Park with all her heart. We both did. Some weeks our Saturday morning trip to the park and farmers market was the highlight of my week. Many weeks it was balm to my jagged soul. Playing there, bouncing in the grass, tongue logging out the side of her mouth, surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of furry friends, Trellis was pure four-legged joy. She was my joy.

I've been thinking about it off and on, those happy poodle park days. And today I remembered the morning she stole a roll from the farmers market. As I stood there paying for my food, she stuck her head under someone's table and took a hunk of bread. This memory makes me laugh out loud. A little poodle thief tipping down Flatbush with a big ole stolen dinner roll in her mouth.

Sunday Funday: Wags & Waves

2010-09-18T18:05:00.004-05:00

Sunday Funday on Saturday again. This time: a Paws in the City volunteer day at Wags & Waves in Garland. We sure do get around!

Golden opportunity.

Two littles.

Ready for a swim.

Wet dogs.

Wade pool.

Tiny swimmer.

Wet kisses.

Dog day afternoon.

Pupsicle.

Girlsicle?

My Boys

2010-09-07T18:18:00.000-05:00

Labor Day at Lake Frankston

2010-09-06T12:18:00.001-05:00

Welcome one and all.

Including feathered friends.

And furry friends. Like Bogey.

Here are your keys.

And here comes the sun.

Do you want pancakes for breakfast?

These guys did.

Meet the Mexican Mutt

2010-08-27T19:59:00.026-05:00

Love at first sight.

Already peas in a pod.

I will bite your nose!

It's a new chapter.

Sunday Funday: Mini Ponies in Celina

2010-08-22T08:28:00.001-05:00

Sunday Funday took place on Saturday this week. My friend Krista and I drove north (way north) to Celina, where the road literally runs out, to meet some mini ponies. And who doesn't love mini ponies? No one I want to know, that's who.

Krista says hello to a two-month-old mini pony.

It's hard to tell how tiny they are in photos.
The fence is 48 inches high.

Comfort is a world champion mini pony.
Here she demonstrates a trick.

Who doesn't want to hug a mini pony?

Sunday Funday: The Dallas World Aquarium

2010-08-15T18:15:00.001-05:00

Welcome to the Dallas World of Surprises!

Toucan play at that game.

Monkey, see?

Penguin? I hardly know Guin.

One fish, two fish.

Red fish, blue fish.

A wing and a ray-er.

Three's company.

Big manatee on campus.

It was all that and a badass sawfish.

Bogey and the Bunny

2010-08-12T08:46:00.000-05:00

Over the weekend Bogey and I visited a friend who had to let her terrier go earlier this year. She still had a big basket of toys by her sofa, and she offered them to me for Peluso. Here is Bogey, giving a little pink bunny a test drive. As you can see, he is eagerly awaiting the arrival of his brother.

Rogue Chef, August Edition

2010-08-01T20:12:00.006-05:00


The rare, strange, beautiful veggie beast.

Today I cooked summer succotash. I particularly love this recipe because it incorporates okra, that rare and strange vegetable. Though it's easy to make, it involves a lot of chopping and directions like cook such and such eight minutes and then add such and such, so I have to be in the mood to make it. Also it's from a restaurant in Birmingham, Alabama, so it speaks to my roots. Oh, and all of you who have cooked with me will be delighted to know that I have enrolled in a knife skills class. It's true. It's all part of Operation Get Your Shit Together, Sister.

Now, on to the succotash.

Texas tomatoes, sweet onion, basil from my herb garden.

Okra meets sweet Texas corn cut from the cob.

I used frozen peas. So sue me.

Poodle Gets a New Playmate

2010-07-28T20:24:00.000-05:00

Meet Peluso! He is a Mexican mutt who will be traveling up from San Miguel de Allende to his new home with me. He'll be here in about a month. I haven't told Bogey yet, but surely he will be as excited about his new brother as I am.

What Would Poodle Eat

2010-07-25T17:58:00.002-05:00

For dinner tonight: the last of the Alabama produce (squash) with some whole wheat pasta, carmelized onion, and chopped Texas tomato. Topped off with a little CheesyGirl goat cheese, from Sealy, Texas.

Dessert last night: grilled Texas peaches with brown sugar, caramel, and Blue Bell ice cream.

Poodle and the City

2010-07-14T16:23:00.004-05:00

The new(ish) DailyCandy office looks gorgeous. Our custom Crate & Barrel furniture is just perfect. When I redecorate my beach house it will be much like this. I just love it. New York City, however, is not the same without you. It's different now. Lonelier. Meaningless. Next time, I won't stay so long.

Mexico Pretty

2010-06-21T15:02:00.011-05:00

Before I post Mexico City pics, I want to come clean on the Tahiti pics. I know you want to see them. I want to show them to you. But because I overestimated the battery power in my new camera, I don't have any. But there was a photographer on the trip. Not a professional, but he had a nice camera and took lots of shots of everyone and everything. I am going to share those with you as soon as I get them. Which should have already happened. But you know how it is when you have to rely on other people: Fail. Which is why I hate to rely on other people. Someday I hope to show you those pics.

Now with that out of the way: Mexico City. It was not the time of my life and I returned home with a stomachache and a migraine, and I fell asleep without brushing my teeth and slept for 12 hours last night. But you wouldn't know it wasn't a fab time just looking at these photos.

The hotel was painfully hip. As in earplugs required.

Up on the rooftop.

Artist unknown.

Ritual dancers.

Tastes like chicken.

Tastes like worms and crickets.

Pigs in a basket.

Mexican plushies.

My rock star traveling companions.

What Would Poodle Watch?

2010-06-12T18:52:00.003-05:00

The new series Extreme Poodles, of course. It's Toddlers & Tiaras meets the Westminster Dog Show. Bring it.

Words with Nerds

2010-06-10T10:04:00.041-05:00

It's no secret that my secret crush is Rhett Miller. It's not so much a crush as it is an ironic-stalker situation. Let me explain: I like to know where he is and what he is doing, and I like to go to his shows. I like to see him from afar, but I don't want to get too close to him. I've tried it. It's just embarrassing for everyone involved. I turn into a 14-year-old girl, and 1985 was in no way a good year for me. The same as you shouldn't travel too close to the sun, you should steer clear of your alt country idols. Or I should. I don't know what you should do. So when I found out Rhett was driving up from Austin, where he is mixing an album, to play in the semifinals of a Words with Friends tournament this week, I obviously made plans to stay home. As I explained in an e-mail to a friend, who is also a fan:

To: her
From: me

rhett was in my dreams last night. we made out. a lot.

i was invited to the words with friends party, but i probably won't go. it's just too awkward to be in the same room with him sober.

To: me
From: her

i haven't even read the interview yet, i just have to comment on how FREAKING HOT he is in that picture accompanying it.

i'm going to say this nicely, because i love you, but you NEED to get your ass to that party. do it for me.

From: me
To: her

haha. i just left a get together where i was convinced that i will be there. i will try to have a full report. and to stick my hand down his pants.

So I went to the party. But let me be clear: I was never in any position to even look into his eyes, much less molest him. When he was not sequestered in another room playing the game, I hid in the bathroom, despite the fact that after he lost the first round he was vulnerable and might have taken me up on an offer of a conciliatory blowjob.

The party photos were taken by D Magazine editor Tim Rogers, who, judging by the number of photos he tweeted of Rhett compared to the number of photos he tweeted of the other three contestants, is as enamoured as I am. Only Tim doesn't lock himself in a bathroom stall. He embraces an opportunity to stand in the shadows.

I love the way he slings sweat later in the night (Rhett, not Tim).

French Polynesia in Pictures, Part I

2010-05-28T19:42:00.008-05:00

Just a few to get things started. It was the trip of a lifetime really. I read a lot, layed in the sun in a hammock, napped in my room, ate chocolate croissants and lobster everyday like it was my birthday, snorkeled in coral gardens, and swam with sharks. Yes, sharks. More on that later. First up, Papeete, on the island of Tahiti. It's like going to Honolulu. It's a big capital city; you don't really spend your vacation there.

View from my room at Manava.

Papeete market.

Good luck ducks.

Pamplemousse.

Sea shells for sale.

We were just passing through, on our way to more exotic parts.

Fins to the Left, Poodles to the Right

2010-05-23T12:23:00.009-05:00

It was the perfect warm + windy = balmy night for a trip to the burbs for an evening with Jimmy Buffett. There were times I found myself staring at floppy boobs and beer bellies thinking I was back in Alabama. It's so rare for the women and men in the land of cast-iron curls and aluminum dimples to show their redneck roots. But, oh, what a show. The music was good, too.

Crowd of 30,000 tops the population of my hometown, which is not Margaritaville.

It's a big time under the big top. And there is just no way not to feel happy when you hear the sounds of a steel drum.

Strange birds.

Searching for her lost shaker.

Cheeseburger head in paradise.

Nothing to show but this brand new tattoo.

Chick-o-nut.

Wasted away again in Friscovitaville.

Blew out my flip-flop. Popped on a bra top.

Fins to the left.

Fins to the right.

And we're the only bait in town. Save those 29,998 other fish.

What Would Poodle Remodel

2010-05-22T09:32:00.008-05:00

Not done yet, but the world is clamoring for a few before and after shots. Admittedly the afters are a little dim. Perhaps the camera was reading all that white and didn't flash. Neither the cabinet refinisher nor the countertop guys were crazy about the white, but I am pretty sure I have read and/or written more design books than they have. Plus they are straight men, and only a gay man would do an all white kitchen. Without further ado.

Miss 1972 in all her brown glory.

Snow white.

This is obviously after I removed the doors.

I still don't have cabinet pulls. Turns out 2.75-inch centers are considered "vintage" and very few companies make them. There is a specialty hardware store here that I am headed to in a bit with fingers crossed. Won't be cheap. Also no faucet yet, as you can see. I have it, it's just not installed. The contractor will come back and fix all that, plus install the dishwasher, and it will be better than new.

I leave you with this WWII-style poster I purchased on Etsy. It will hang on the wall next to the microwave and be visible only when you are in the kitchen.

Wuf Wedding

2010-05-20T22:14:00.007-05:00

Today, there was a wedding in the park.

There were brides.

And grooms.

There was a minister.

And cake.

Why, yes, I think I do.

Rogue Chef Cook-Off, D.C. Edition

2010-05-02T20:15:00.028-05:00

Some time ago we planned to do an Ooey Gooey Butter Cake Cook-off the next time we got together. And so we set out to pit the St. Louis Cake we'd read about on Smitten Kitchen against Sarah's mom's original recipe. Saturday morning we pulled out the mixer and set about finding out which we'd like best.

We were not convinced by the recipe that called for a packet of yeast and corn syrup instead of cream cheese. We all placed our bets on the original, cake mix-based version.

The dough for the St. Louis cake had to rise for a few hours, so we took a break from the kitchen to check out a couple of exhibits at the Smithsonian.

Oddly, the St. Louis cake didn't rise while we were at the museum. We gave it another hour and still nothing. We proceeded as planned, with both cakes.

The pan for the original was smaller, resulting in an unusually thick cake base and layers that were more separated than in past attempts. St. Louis on the right; original on the left.

Slices of the same.

Much to our surprise, all three of us preferred the "grown-up" version of the cake (the St. Louis). We ate a slice of both again for breakfast this morning, topped with fruit, just to be sure. Delicious!

Angel Pup

2010-04-20T23:09:00.004-05:00

I've stayed up too late entertaining, but I wanted to post this pic before calling it a night. My new camera takes lovely photos. But few things are as lovely as sweet, sweet Bogey. I love you, man.

Versatile Poodle

2010-04-18T22:29:00.004-05:00

What other breed of dog is also a seahorse, buffalo, dragon, and hare?

[Photo: Suzy Allman for The New York Times]

Dear Poodle

2010-04-15T21:03:00.003-05:00

I miss you. I ache for you. Six months later, and I still cry at night. I lay down in my bed and you don't lay down beside me. I don't feel your fur on my bare skin. I don't feel the weight of your body next to mine. I don't worry that I will disturb your sleep or that you will roll off the bed in the middle of the night. I don't listen to your sweet snores or comfort you when you twitch and dream.

In my 20s I answered a Q&A by saying that my happiest moments were when I layed between a man and a poodle. You were that poodle, who proved to be the kind of companion a man could never be.

Poodle. Poodle. Poodle. Be still my broken heart.

Martinis for Mutts

2010-04-12T19:30:00.010-05:00

Everyone knows I don't really like people. And the anxiety of being on this party planning committee just about drove me under my bed. The night of the party I was in knots and it took all I had to just show up. But that's enough about me. This party was a hit. Hundreds of people came. And we raised well above our goal, thanks to a generous match by someone at the party. I've done my good deed for the season. And the pics are fun.

Thumbs up for mutts.

Roulette for mutts.

Daschund on a stick for mutts.

Feathers for mutts.

Old people for mutts.

Party people for mutts.

Ethnicity for mutts.

Homemade genius for mutts.

Blue hair for mutts.

Scary for mutts.

Barbies for mutts.

Drunk as a dog.

Hoppy Easter Parade

2010-04-04T22:02:00.007-05:00

Easter Pooch Parade put on by the Turtle Creek Association.

My Easter bonnet and my favorite guy.

Cute at first. Then later upsetting.

Pink Westie.

This one got my vote for Best Costume.

Crowd shot.

Mistress of dogs: Jan Strimple. (She is very tall.)

Group shot: Here we are with Shannon and Hudson.

Greyhound fairies.

Elvis lives.

Some might call it Chinese torture.

These doggies have little sheep on all their feet.

We didn't let a little rain keep us down.

See more photos here, including one of us!

Hoppy April Fools'

2010-04-01T07:50:00.002-05:00

Bogey and the Easter bunny.

Happy Birthday, Dead Poodle

2010-03-23T07:21:00.003-05:00

Today would have been my girl's 13th birthday. Won't you sing along? Happy birthday, dead poodle. Happy birthday to you.

Poodle Heart

2010-02-28T08:39:00.003-06:00

Poodle Rescue of Houston video. I don't know if this little guy is still available for adoption; the video is from September, so probably not. But he's got the exact personality I am looking for in a dog, and I started to cry before I even watched the video. It's the way his legs are splayed out behind him and how his head is tucked between that guy's knees.

I have been missing my poodle acutely. I've worked a few adoption events lately and there are some wonderful dogs that I think would make great pets. But nothing does it for me like a poodle. I have a poodle heart.

The Rogue Chef

2010-02-24T21:03:00.003-06:00

When I lived in NYC we had the Wednesday Night Drinking Club, where we'd try a new restaurant and of course drink. Welcome to the new Wednesday night (which will sometimes take place on Tuesday or Thursday), which will involve me cooking something delicious, like this cauliflower and onion tart. I am a genius. A genius who set her pot holder on fire. But still.

First a head of cauliflower. Florets chopped and roasted. Easy.

Then the crust. Oh my. The first ever crust I have made? No. What about that crust for the squash and zucchini tart back in Alabama? Yes, that was perfection and it does count. So second ever crust made. For this I am following the recipe.

What does “cut in” mean in terms of cooking? I have to look this up. The internet tells me to use some kind of special pastry device which I don’t own or use a fork or use two knives. I try it with two knives but that seems harder than it needs to be, so I switch to one. And I tell myself that when I think I am done I have just gotten started. Keep it up, RC. The recipe says, “This dough is rather tough but with a little elbow grease, it does come together nicely.” Hand me that elbow grease. I roll out the crust. Um, no. How do you roll it out in a circle? I mush it all back together and try again. Better. But I still have to patch it with bits and parts for about 20 minutes. It’s not beautiful but it passes the test.

Carmelize the onions. I have experience doing that. Which doesn’t stop me from setting my potholder on fire while I chopped. It laid on a stove eye when I turned on the heat. A few seconds later my whole body tensed in anticipation of the smoke alarm. I don’t think the fabric was flame retardant.

Other stuff – eggs, mascarpone, milk, cheeses, all whipped together. Layer in the vegetables, pour it over. Panic because it doesn’t seem like enough. I have put too much effort into this tart to let it fail now. Whip up another egg and pour in a little milk. Pour that over the other stuff. Save!

Exhausted, I push my five-pound tart into the oven and plop down on the white pleather sofa with a bottle of wine and an episode of Modern Family.

Forty-five minutes (and a half bottle of sauvignon blanc) later this gorgeous thing smells like candy – mmmm butter – which is a good thing, because the acrid smell of burning pot holder lingers in the air. Now I just have to wait a little bit for it to cool and try not fall asleep drunk.

Poodle Do

2010-02-23T19:05:00.029-06:00

Thinking. Thinking of writing. Thinking of decorating. Thinking, 'Who on earth is this Carrot Top-looking gold medal winner?'

My new lamp came.

My cute Jonathan Adler Dachshund bookends came. So did a pile of new books.

I moved the giant arc lamp up to the bedroom. I vacuumed the apartment like I was expecting a baby to come over and eat off the floor. Things look nice.

I have felt calm about my job today and if things remain stable the next couple of months I will get my kitchen redone and have the downstairs bathroom tiled. Come visit.

It snowed again today. It's supposed to snow again this weekend. But the good news is that we can just about count on that being it for The Winter of SnowTen. Can't we? Isn't this Texas? Doesn't spring start March 1 in this part of the country? That's how I remember it. And if you ask around, that's how it must be. Lone Star does not equal Ice Cube.

There was a story on the news today about Texans having SADD. This is news because we don't typically have two solid months of rain and gray and snow. We aren't SADD in Texas! Why do you think I love it here so much? Come visit, really.

Snowed In

2010-02-12T09:53:00.009-06:00

Record snowfall of more than one foot. Not exactly the Dallas I signed up for.

Poodle Doodle Dandie

2010-02-05T15:09:00.004-06:00

So my vet here in Alabama got a mini pig for her birthday, a Royal Dandie. She calls it her son and says she never knew how much she could love something (um, duh, why are you a vet again?). His name is Oliver.

In my search for the next big thing, I tossed around the idea of a book on mini pigs. See how freaking on trend I am? Did you know Paris Hilton just got a mini pig (don't let that stop you from loving them) and that mini pigs were at the 2010 Golden Globes? Oh, oink, they were!

Mini pigs are on the up and I DON'T HAVE ONE. Can't you see me now, walking on the Katy Trail with my petite porker? Cruising in the car with my little ham? Pig on a plane. Crazy pig lady.

Poodle to Go

2010-01-09T20:15:00.003-06:00

Hunkered down in Louisiana.
Watching 30 Rock and trying to keep warm!

Foster Blog

2009-12-27T17:20:00.003-06:00

Oh, lordy. I didn't know what I was getting into when I brought this darling home. He was stinky marinky dink, so I gave him a bath as soon as I could. And I dressed him in the Snuggie I bought yesterday (sorry, Bogey). And damn if he's not the cutest thing ever.

He was surrendered along with his brother by a family who could no longer afford to take care of them. (I hate hearing those stories, but the cynic in me wonders how hard they really tried.) The rescue group felt like he wasn't well socialized and needed to be separated from his brother. Plus it's harder to adopt dogs as a pair. He's 1 year old and a skinny mini, but I love him already.

Bogey is being a hard sell.

Poodle Pics: Jamaica

2009-12-09T20:52:00.008-06:00

This doesn't suck.

Horsebacking riding on the beach - the unicorn of vacation activities.

Sunrise at Half Moon.

Pretty as a picture.

Orchid garden.

Just say I do.

A couple of hams. I mean dolphins.

Handmade bamboo boats on the Grand River.

Fresh coconut water - yum!

Done and Done

2009-11-28T12:45:00.002-06:00

Dasher has been adopted! From death row to new home in just 10 days. When I went to drop him off at the adoption event this morning, there was a woman who was there just to see him. I did her home visit and left Dasher with her! It happened so fast that I feel overwhelmed.

Pupdate

2009-11-23T06:43:00.006-06:00

Dasher is doing great! A Facebook query revealed just the right name (from the tirelessly brilliant Eve Epstein, no less) and he's settling in well. It's so interesting. Because he was rescued from the city pound, I don't know his story. But I can guess that he is a runaway. Here's what's obvious:

- This is a very smart and very sweet dog. And very very fast and eager to run and explore.
- Not only is he completely housebroken, he sits by the door when he wants to go outside. He will also sit pretty much anytime you tell him too, even when he is very excited.
- He was not allowed on the furniture where he lived before. Nor did he sleep in the bed. I've had a hard time convincing him to lay with me and Bogey on the sofa, and he can't be convinced to sleep with us in the bed. Instead he sleeps at the foot of the bed, on the floor.
- He is terribly underweight. He weighs 16.8 pounds. He should probably weigh 25. This is probably just a result of him living in the shelter for a long while.
- He has not been neutered but his tail was docked. This indicates that he came from a breeder.

We also know that he is heartworm positive. This is super sad, but not the end of the world. He will have to undergo the treatment, which is not a day at the dog park. It's basically three injections (painful according to what I have read). One, then two 30 days later, between which he has to stay very calm and quiet because of the risk of heart embolism. It's a good thing I am such a great dog caretaker!

So I am feeling great about this foster thing. It could have been a nightmare, had he been a nightmare, but he is such a treat. I think he's going to make a wonderful pet for some lucky someone. I just have to make sure that's not me!

Meet the Foster

2009-11-21T16:42:00.004-06:00

This is Stuart. Or Christmas. Or Valentine. He's too new to the foster world to have a name yet. I am listening for him to tell me. Let's just hope I don't want to call him Disaster.

Poodle Meets Giraffe

2009-11-19T22:02:00.009-06:00

Last weekend included a trip down to Fossil Rim Wildlife Center. I honestly thought we'd be the only ones there. I'd heard of the place but I had no idea what I was in for. A couple of backstage passes yielded three hours of antelope, ostriches, wildebeast, zebras, cheetahs, and coyotes. And one very friendly giraffe.

Meet my new pal, Mr. Giraffe.
Apparently, you can trick Mr. Giraffe into kissing you if you put some food in your mouth.
Or maybe it's better to feed him from your hand.

Everyone's happy now.
Mr. Giraffe slips our guide the tongue.

Happiness Project

2009-11-17T20:32:00.001-06:00

A friend sent me this blog.

I asked myself: Should I start a happiness project?

I answered myself: I had a happiness project. She died.