The Dogs. The Children. The Family. The Issues.

Dogs.  Giada. Dogs.  Beau. Dogs.  Junior. Giada? I'm looking at you right now. Back on Mother's Day when Mr. Hawthorne and I went to visit our respective mothers, I got a frantic phone call from Daughter Hawthorne. About how to incubate duck eggs. Ducks nest in my yard in several places every spring and it seems one of the nests was messed up by Giada. I told Daughter Dearest to just leave the eggs alone and let Mama Duck come back and take care of them. "B-b-b-b-but, the Mama isn't coming back," she bawled. Reading between the lines, I knew what had happened. And I knew Daughter was devastated. Giada was being a dog. And Daughter was trying to do right. She went out and bought a heating pad and brought the ten eggs in and for the last 2 weeks, we've been turning the eggs every few hours or so.

Oh wait ...

I've been turning the eggs. God help me if they hatch. Since they'll imprint on the first thing they see which will be me, since I'm the one who continues to check the heat and turn the eggs every few hours. If they hatch they'll imprint on me and follow me around everywhere and will die if I'm not there to take care of them. And yes, I know this, because I've hatched a duckling before. Chuck Duck. But that's another story. Let's move on. Fast forward to today. This afternoon, Mr. Hawthorne put all the puppies out on the deck. He had rigged a gate of sorts which, sadly, did not perform its duty. Somehow, Giada got out. She pushed her way out of a weak part, went down to the pool, and ran. Of course, I went out to look for her as Mr. Hawthorne did NOTHING except BITCH. I found Giada in Neighbor Bob's yard, tearing up the duck nest in his pampas grass. People, this is what Dogs DO. I went over to get her and the bitch hauled ass down the street. I'm running after her and she's laughing her ass off at me. She finally got to the Clampett's house at the end of the street. And Yes, the Clampetts live right down the street from me. The Clampett's dogs were barking their asses off at Giada and Giada thought this was great fun and she ran all about in the Clampett's yard. Finally, one of the Young Clampetts crouched down and gently called to Giada and the damn bitch wagged her tail and went right up to Elly Mae. Actually, I think it was Jethro, but whatever. I put the leash around Giada and walked her back home. 1/2 mile. Halfway there, I ran into Mr. Hawthorne in his truck, who stopped and gave Giada a piece of HAM! Then he told me to open the door and let her in his truck as he drove Giada back home and I walked home in sweltering 90 degree heat. (OK. It really wasn't 90 degrees and it really wasn't sweltering but I was pissed off.) Fast forward to tonight. Daughter Hawthorne got home from work about 11:30. She put the dogs (except for Dixie, of course) out on the deck because they're all hyper and going nuts on my HARDWOOD FLOORS. I'm getting antsy about their being on the deck, so I go outside to check. I call 'em in. Beau comes in. Junior comes in. Giada's GONE. AGAIN. And I look at my deck. All my plant seedlings and all the MiracleGro soil is ALL OVER MY DECK. It's a horrible mess. Apparently, Giada jumped over the barricade because everything was still in place. I'm relaying this unexpected turn of events to DH and for 9 minutes she's screaming about how she can't find her shoes and then, how she can't find her keys. She demands a flashlight, which I give her, then she goes out into the night, at 1 AM to look for her ADD Dog. (Attention Deficit Disorder) I'm watching for a while from the back window and see the flashlight focusing on a white apparition that runs and darts everywhere. I'd think the damn dog would come back on her own if left to her own devices. She's got Shepherd in her so she likes to patrol the area. She likes to roam. She's just being true to her nature. And I'm surprised some of my neighbors didn't call the cops what with my 3 kids running about with flashlights throughout the neighborhood and their yards. Especially certain neighbors. And if you've read my blog long enough then you know who these glorious people are. These kind folks are just looking for any chance to bust my chops. They must've been asleep. (To get the whole story on this go up to "search" and type in f-t-f.) I don't know if I'll make it through this summer. Seriously. All the children have jobs now. And I'm left to look after their puppies. You know? Mr. Hawthorne and I had just gotten rid of all these children. Out of the house. At grad school and colleges. Then SUMMER? They move BACK IN? With their DOGS? What were they thinking? What am I thinking? For a while there, the Mister and I were happy little empty nesters. We'd kicked our little birds out and told them to fly away. Fly far, far, away. We were starting to enjoy each other's company once again. We were starting to realize that we weren't totally inundated by stress anymore. We were starting to breathe easier. We started planning and taking trips together and we were having fun. Finally. Once again. After so many years. Oh well. It's only 3 months. Then they'll go back to college. And Mr. Hawthorne, Dixie, and I will have our life back together again. Oh man, I need to regroup and reorganize. Or either I need drugs and alcohol.