DWTS.............and oh yea GAMBIT IS A BUTTHEAD!!!!!!!

First of all who was surprised last night? I sure as hell was, I could hear a distant voice shouting "Oh hell no!" when Shawn won. Gilles was robbed in "our" opinion. "Smoking Croaking and Flaming" there is a quote that should go down in the TV history book. Think Bruno was a little upset? I do. Nuff of that now to the good part.


After all the doom and gloom that I have been posting i needed to have a good day and that was today. Work went well, Lowe's called and said my mower was ready for pick up (sure Dave and Mary are glad to hear that lol), it was sunny and cool, just a good day.........................Then I got home.

It seems that there hasn't been a crate, that can hold our kids. (Or house or apartment for that matter when it came to Spike but I will tell you about him at the end.) Jubilee, when she was a pup climbed out of hers on occasion and would be waiting at the door to greet us when we got home from work. And in that spirit, when I got home tonight there were 3 loud voices on the other side of the door waiting for me to open it. Naturally, I just thought that Gambit was being extra loud and excited upstairs in the kitchen. I opened the door and................

That's right there were three dogs waiting for me, not the two that I was expecting. Rogue, Jubilee, and that darn Gambit. Stunned, I said Gambit what the hell are you doing here? And like on a normal day before I could close the door all three were tearing up the stairs to be let out. Now gambit is a great B&E artists, he has no problems popping open the French doors to get into the living room when he really wants to and for some reason I thought that I would find that he found a way to bump the door of the crate so that the latches would open. No big deal right? Oooooooohhhhhhhh Noooooooooooooooo!

When I walked into the kitchen I looked over at the crate and stopped speechless in my tracks. There was the crate, the black plastic floor pulled out and turned sideways. Then I noticed it. Gambit had not opened the door, but had pushed the entire front of the crate down. "The Marines Have Landed" was the first thing that came to mind. It looked like the dropped front end of a military landing craft. (No more letting Gambit sit on the couch with me when I watch about General Patton on the history channel that's for sure!) Taking a closer look, I saw where Gambino had pushed his snout through the bars of the door spreading them like the shark did in Jaws going after Richard Dreyfus before he pushed the damn thing down. So much for wondering if Gambit would get back to normal. Welcome back Big Buddy you butthead!

Like I said I needed a good day and I could think of any other way to have today, I am still smiling about General "Push It Down" Gambit assaulting the kitchen.

Now back to Spike. Spike was our first dog who played us for suckers. Here was this little brown and black dog (Chihuahua, Dachshund, Terrier mix) shivering in a crate at an adoption fair. I blame it on the apartment rules for where we living, Heather said it was destined, but in more than one way Spike fit the bill for what we needed and could have at the time. But there was one thing that we found out later, he was a damn escape artist. He would wait behind the door as you opened it then dart through your legs and gone when he wanted too. And for those of you who knew Spike you can attest to just how much of a brat he was. He would run, have you chase him, allow you to get close, look over his shoulder watch as you reached for him and POOF he was gone! The two most memorable times that little brat (being family friendly again) escaped were;

1. When we lived in the apartment, escaping having me chase him until he crossed 8 lanes of traffic, prancing being cocky the whole way, during rush hour in the rain. How he never became the main ingredient for Granny Clampett's road kill stew I still don't understand.

2. After moving to the house, and before dad and I built the fence, my dad and I were going to the Indy car race here in Richmond. When we opened the door Popeye pup was gone in a flash. Needless to say this put a cramp in mine and dad's plans, while Heather was using so not so family friendly language about how we let him escape lol. Dad and I got in the car and started driving the neighborhood looking for him and couldn't find him. But Spike had a weakness, McDonald's french fries. Fortunately there is a Mickey D's up at the corner, dad and I went there and got an order and returned to the search. A half hour later, and a half a block away there he was, tongue hanging out tail wagging smiling prancing the king of the world. I stopped the car and whats next is funny sad and pathetic. I opened the door shook the bag of fries, Spike stopped dead in his tracks stared at us, and ran straight to us and jumped in the car and starting bossing us until we gave him the fries. WHAT A BRAT! His nick name that Heather gave him was Little Brown Guy. He still makes me laugh.

I know that the reason that I was so depressed and anxious when it came to Gambit's surgery last week was when it came time to say goodbye to Spike we needed to say goodbye to our cat Spalding about 6 weeks later. I was fearful that that pattern was readying to repeat.

But not today, for today is a good day!

Have a safe and happy holiday, and to any of you who are in the service or have family now or previously in the service THANK YOU!