Rabbit season!!

(Duck season...)


Seen in New Orleans last night. Two free-range rabbits, right there.

Someone had a hankering for Hasenpfeffer.

Gone and back again

So this past week, my job sent me to Atlanta. I knew I'd be busy during the day but figured that come evening, I could catch up on some backlogged blogging.

No such luck. My work laptop immediately crashed and ceased to function as soon as I got there, and my iPad refused to connect to the hotel's wifi no matter what I tried.

So it was another blogless week.

I got back yesterday, and after the long drive, I needed to hustle off to my part-time job.

After "work", I was called out to another show as special guest of the producer, so there was no gracefully dodging that one.

By the time I was heading home, even some of the security guards on Bourbon Street had apparently had enough.

I got home around 3AM and slept well until I had to get up to attend a crawfish boil for lunch. It was raining and we were outside in it, but crawfish. Some things are worth getting wet for.

This, for those of you not from around here, is a crawfish, cooked and ready to eat. (And it was tasty.)

And of course while I was gone, the dogs apparently deposed me, as I came home to find both of them comfortably ensconced on my living room furniture, with Murphy on my couch and Belle in my chair. Per the dog sitter, they've been doing it all week and she didn't think to wonder if they were supposed to or not. They've always snuck and done it, but now they're being totally brazen about it, at least until the corrections begin.

But today was a new day, and Bourbon Street was back to normal.

Not much to see here...move along.

Lulled into a false sense of security, I was...

It's been peacful around the Lair for a while, with no dog breaks and precious little other K9 drama as of late. It's like they were trying to be good to get me to take my eyes off them for a bit...and it worked

On Friday, I was in the shower and the dogs were outside. I never used to leave them out in the yard while I was busy doing something else, but like I said, they'd been good for so long. I figured out that Belle was only tunneling out because she hates being left outside alone and her goal has always been to get to the front of the house so she'd get taken back inside. But since she learned to get in by scratching on the door several months back (and by "scratching" I mean clawing it down to bare metal like a freaking wolverine), we haven't had a problem. She scratches, I open the door, and they both come in.

Well this time I didn't show up and open the door, so she went back to the original method--she opened up a secret exit through the latticework that she'd apparently been working on for a bit and her and Murphy skated under the house and into the big world.

My first inclination that something was wrong was when I got out of the shower and heard familiar barking from the FRONT of the house and lots of loud yelling in spanish. Oh, that can't be good, I thought. Sure enough, the dogs her "treed" the entire construction crew that was working on the new house two doors down. They were all sitting up on the roof of that building yelling in what sounded like illegalese while Murphy and Belle circled the ladder and barked up at them in a manner that would have make Joe Arpaio proud. (Disclaimer: I don't know for sure that all of those non-English-speaking laborers that the contractor brings over in a cargo van each day are in the country illegally, but...)

So I hurriedly THREW SOME CLOTHES ON and opened up the door. Belle looks over at me and trots happily inside, her life goal achieved. Murphy on the other hand... "See ya, boss!" and down the street he goes. So I get to jump in the car and chase him around for a few minutes, going the wrong way down one-way streets and through two vacant lots before I finally manage to corner him in a third vacant but fenced lot. (Dammit dog, if I ever hit something in that tall grass and tear up the underside of my Toyota chasing you, we're going straight to that Korean BBQ in the Bywater!)

So yesterday, the latticework got replaced, and I fronted it with new paving stones that should keep digging paws from getting a start at it. Seriously, I've put in so much fencing and concrete just to keep these dogs in that my back yard is starting to look like the old border between East and West Berlin. Still, it looks pretty good, but I'm kicking myself for not going next store and offering the poor victimized workers a case of beer and telling them that I could make their DREAMs of a dog-free work-place a reality if they'd have all come over and given me half an hour each working on MY border wall.

Back on line

Computer is fixed...and the dogs send their regards.

Actually they're a bit miffed, because it's so cold outside tonight that I've brought two of the outdoor cats in. The cats are currently residing in a cage in my office for safekeeping and the dogs, by necessity, are barred from the room because they won't stay away from the cage. The dogs aren't pleased, but the outdoor cats do such a fine job of keeping the rodent population down that I can't just leave them to freeze out there as the temps tonight will be dropping close to 20 degrees. So two of the tamer ones are inside now, and the third--the most anti-social--is still outside and I wish it well. But my last two attempts to pick it up have left me with claw marks so it's on it's own.

This is Mama Cat.

She's in now.

This is Tommy Cat, a first-timer to our hostel.

They'll be in until the weather goes back above freezing. And the dogs, Miss Belle in particular, can just kick rocks.

Sleeting utside now and below freezing, so the ice on the morning roads, especially the raised portions, should be epic.

For Lauren...

Since she asked for pics of da mutts.

Better pics and tales coming soon--Working a show tonight and it's Krewe du Vieux tomorrow.

BUSTED!!!

SO tonight, after taking my guests out to dinner, I pulled up outside the house and decided to sneak up on the window and see if I could catch a dog on my leather sofa. I know that at least one of them has been up there lately but I wasn't sure which one. So I snuck up to the window with my camera and...

DAMMIT!!

BOTH the furry bastards were racked out on my sofa! WTF?

I blow a hundred bucks on dog beds scattered around the house and this is what they do when I'm gone.

Ass dogs.

Back on the internet!!!

Today, the world's slowest cable install guy came over and hooked up my internet, so I'm finally able to post from a computer that is not my work computer or an iPhone.

So here's the tale thus far...

Last night in my old place thew previous Wednesday night. The furniture is already gone so Aaron of The Shekel breaks out his camping gear.

I'm starting to wonder about his operational cred here.

The first night took us to the home of Keads, where we enjoyed some shooting, some BBQ, and some adult beverages and conversation.

Here, Keads rocks the Thompson. Elliot Ness got nothing on him!

The dogs like Keads too. He spoils them. (And thanks, Nancy, for the cookies!)

It was a long dog day. Murphy racks out on the floor, using my travel bag for a pillow.

Miss Belle actually went down the hall and slept in Keads' room. Did I mention that he spoils them and they like him?

In the morning, coffee was had, and good-byes were said.

Keads had best come visit, and soon!

Got to the new house well after dark. The dogs were a bit thirsty.

And the chickens outside. Seriously.

Lots of chickens.

Feral chickens have proliferated in New Orleans since Hurricane Katrina (Thanks, PH!)

And they're not shy or timid. This one came calling as I enjoyed breakfast on my porch.

We saw St. Louis Cathedral.

We had crawfish.

They even arranged a brass band parade in the French Quarter...guess they heard I was here.

Back at home, the unpacking began.

Not exactly helpful, these two.

Belle did help with the kayak, though. Sort of.

Then she claimed the back steps.

Murph just be chilling inside though.

Saving up energy to chase more chickens tomorrow.

Oh--and s far, the score is Murphy escapes = 2 (including one where he bum-rushed me at the door), Belle escapes = 4

And while some toil to clear paths...

Others play on them.

"Say 'what' again. Say 'WHAT' again! I dare you, I double dare you!"

"OK...what."

Fight's on.

Nothing says winter fun like roughhousing in the snow.

"These woods are lovely, dark and deep..."

"But you won't get by me, you creep!"

"Girl, don't make me have to remind you of your place again!"

All in fun...but what's that?

Just a bird. Carry on.

Gee, it sure was nice of someone to go out and tromp down all those trails to play on, wasn't it, dogs.

Dogs?

"Getting chilly out here. Let's head back in for some Cocoa."

Best pals.

Who could ask for a better snow day?


As for me...a book of over a hundred of Jack London's best short stories...just the right book to be snowbound with.

Aaarrgh!

Apparently it snowed here at the Lair yesterday. Inside.

At least that what it looked like when I walked back in the door to be greeted by two cheerful, loving ass-dogs.

A certain gun company had sent me a couple of small repair parts, and as so often happens for some insane reason, the parts--which would have fit in a regular padded envelope, were shipped in a box big enough to hold a basketball. And naturally, all of that excess space in the pox was taken up by that ungodly creation of the Devil--styrofoam chips. (Now with more static, so they stick to every damned thing!)

The box was intact on my couch when I left for work, but apparently the dozen or so dog toys on the floor weren't nearly as interesting as that box was, for upon my return, I found the floor covered with the styrofoam chips. A dog known to have a cardboard box fetish had apparently amused herself by opening this box and ripping up the cardboard, paying no attention at all to the parts therein or doing anything to avoid scattering the styrofoam. Indeed, when I came in the door, both dogs were frolicking and running through the mess, spreading it even farther over the living room.

Aargh.

Just freaking Aargh.

Nothing like walking in the door, anticipating relaxing, only to have to spend the next ten minutes picking up static-clingy styrofoam and shreds of cardboard as two dogs with no sense of shame or remorse get in the way because they want more attention.

Not sure which one is the hammer and which one is the saw, but they're both definitely tools.

Back--and now with computer access!

OK, the dogs and I are home now...and I have a computer again, so I don't have to try to blog from an iPhone or iPad, both of which are pretty iFrustrating and iDifficult.

Trip up to Michigan went pretty much ok. About half way, in western Pennsylvania, my old Jeep, which is now relegated to being a dog hauler, began to make loud grinding noises from someplace below the vehicle in the area of the transfer case. This did not make me happy, and when I stopped to check it out, I could see nothing hanging that might be doing this. So I paid a visit to the Firestone garage in Cranberry, PA, and even though it was the height of holiday travel time, they got me in pretty quickly, got the Jeep up on the lift, and figured out and a heat shield from the exhaust had broken loose and gotten itself wrapped up around the drive shaft. In no time, I was back out on the road again and they only charged me $15.00 to lift the Jeep and cut the remains of the shield out of there. And it's amazing how fast a busy garage can get you in and done when you bring your travel companions into the waiting room.

My sister got her new handgun, a S&W Shield in 9mm. Aaron and I took her out to the range to teach her how to use it.

I took my nephew, The Spud, out for a day in the woods with the dogs at Proud Lake Recreation area.

We hiked the trails for a few hours and I brushed him up on his fire-building skills because he wants to go winter camping with his friends next month.

On Christmas Eve, we had an extended family dinner with Aaron and his family and Proud Hillbilly and hers over. Due to the number of people and close quarters at my mom's, the dogs were sequestered in a back bedroom together. But they had lots of company because PH's granddaughter seems to just know five words, and she used them every few minutes: "Let's go see the dogs!"

New friends.

We had our own dinner on Christmas Day. And Murphy was up to his old table-surfing tricks.

Afterwards, the dogs got presents just like everyone else.

Stuffed toys were unwrapped, cuddled, stolen, tussled over...they had a good day, and I thought they'd never wind down. But finally they did.

Pals forever.