Funny story about Dixie.

This is Dixie being vacuumed. You may gather from her expression that she doesn't like being vacuumed. You may be correct.

On the other hand, she might really like it, but, like a petulant child, she want's me to think she doesn't like it and wants to be a badass.

Yesterday, Kitchen Guys were here fixing the hood and some of the cabinet molding. Dixie has been quite tolerant of all the workmen coming in and out over the past 5 weeks. She was fine with Kitchen Guys, so Mr. Hawthorne and I decided to take a break and go to lunch and Home Depot, my home away from home, to get tile for the kitchen backsplash, and a bunch of other stuff we needed. We went to a restaurant that's served us well in the past, plus we have a punch card where you buy six meals and get the seventh one free. We had a quite good Caesar Salad, although nothing like the one Mr. H and I make. (Note to self: Self, be sure to offer recipe for Caesar Salad in your blog.) He had the kiddie luncheon of chicken fingers and I mistakenly ordered the fried oysters. Too much breading, too little oyster, no flavor. My platter consisted of 7 (SEVEN!) oysters and a 1/2 pound of fries. Well, thank goodness that's all the oysters that were on the plate because I couldn't even eat them. Yucky. My stomach has been queasy enough already because of the antibiotics I'm taking, and this didn't do anything to help matters.

But I digress. We finally got home. In the meantime, Kitchen Guys had gone out for lunch and had come back to a happy, licking, crotch-sniffing, tail-wagging Dixie-Dog.

Kitchen Guys then tell us that Granite Guys had come with the replacement for the hearth granite that was broken. These were two new Granite Guys. They knocked on the deck slider and Dixie went ballistic. She ran to the slider, slipping and sliding on the wood floors, barking her ass off. Kitchen Guys tried to tell Granite Guys, "Oh, she's just fine. All you have to do is acknowledge her. Don't ignore her." (Hee, that's what I always tell the workman.) Well, at this point, Dixie was not one to be ignored. She's barking, growling, and baring her teeth. She wouldn't let Kitchen Guys open the door for Granite Guys and she wasn't about to let Granite Guys in unless they were going to be her next meal. Granite Guys wisely said they'd come back another time.

Now, I just love this dog. That makes me feel safe. She's thinking, "Hey, Mama and Daddy aren't home, I don't know you guys, no way in hell are you coming in. I can tolerate just so much." This is her job and she does it very well, indeed.

She probably gave Granite Guys this look:



No wonder they didn't come in.





This is Dixie trying to be cute after she was trying to be bad. I told her to "smile pretty" and this is her "smile pretty."

This is Dixie last Halloween. That's not a mask. Wonder what she'll be this Halloween.