The author of the comics The Oatmeal revealed that his dog Rambo died yesterday. This is the dog which inspired one of his most beloved characters. It was sudden—one day fine, the next internal bleeding from an undiagnosed tumor and gone.

We lost Loki under similar circumstances. He was fine one day, and the next, super lethargic. It was the night before our huge summer party, and we were rushing around trying to get everything done. I remember I “kicked him” (nudged him with my foot, I have never EVER kicked a dog except once when one was attacking my elderly blind pup) to try to get him out of the way, and he wouldn’t move. I looked at Chris and said that something was wrong. Our energetic, eager to please border collie wouldn’t move. I still remember that “kick” and tear up thinking how awful he must have felt for HIM to not be able to respond to my command, even a more forceful one than usual.

We stopped setting up and took him to the emergency vet. We waited and waited. They said it seemed his heart was swollen and they needed to go in to see what was going on. It was going to be hours before they would get him in, and we asked if we could stay, but they told us to go home. I remember Chris hugging him on the floor of the emergency vet and me nudging him to hurry because the vet was standing there waiting on us. I pet our beautiful boy, and told him he was a good boy and we’d see him soon. I still remember looking back, Loki looking confused through the doorway of the surgery and kennel areas as we left him. I am bawling now remembering this was the last time I saw him. Bawling regretting that I rushed Chris trying to love on him for what would be the last time. That I didn’t get on the floor and squeeze him tight before I left. I just walked away, believing he would be okay.

We went home to try to finish prepping for the party. They later called and said they would be keeping him overnight. They found fluid around his heart and would be trying to drain it. We went to bed. At 3am they called and said he had arrested twice already on the table, and if we wanted to come say goodbye, we needed to come now. We were only 10 minutes away, but it was too long. He was already gone.

They let us see him. He was still warm. We both fell to the floor of the large open kennel and hugged and pet and kissed his lifeless body, told him how much we loved him, what a good dog he had been, thanked him for being OUR boy. The next day, we welcomed over 150 people to our house because it was too late to try to cancel. People kept asking where Loki was and we would just shake our head quietly and try not to talk about it. They instantly understood, but had no idea it was less than 16 hours before they arrived. Drink, host, move on. It’s all we could do.

We still keep his ashes, paw print, and collar on our mantle, next to his big sister’s (she died a few years later, almost to the day). He was just the best dog you could hope for. And you never fully get over that loss.

Reading about Rambo passing stirred up all those feels and harsh memories all over again. I know all too well this exact scenario, and it’s only harder on pet parents today who couldn’t even go in with their pet, or come back to say goodbye, due to COVID. A harsh pain on top of an already harsh pain.

Thanks for the memories, Rambo. And thanks for being our Good Boy, Loki.

When I saw my Kingy again...

Kingston was our toughest foster by far. Very wary of all new people generally, and fearful of men--he would bite them. He was such a sweet dog, though--smart and goofy and adorable. He loved his foster doggo friends, and he loooved my friend Amielle Love especially. He was playful, inquisitive, and a charmer. Except for that whole "men suck" vibe.

Chris was so gentle with him, and at times got to cuddle him. It was work every day. We had him the longest--8 months in our care. That's a LONG time in foster days, most of our dogs would be adopted in weeks, tops. But we had to find the RIGHT home for him before we could let him go anywhere.

Enter his family, with the husband--gentle Cameron--especially taking to him. Even though he could barely get anywhere near Kingston, Cameron fell in love. They were so patient with him. We did maybe a half dozen pre-visits with Kingston, to get him acclimated to his new home, family, and his big sister Momo who had issues with having to share her toys--let alone family--with anyone. But bond they did, and eventually he went to his new home.

We kept in touch for a couple years after. We would see Cameron--a paper artist--in Artist Alley at local cons occasionally as well. He got to tell us in person they were going to have a baby, and hoped we could come to the shower. We were excited to get to visit with them, celebrate, and of course, see Kingston again. Would he remember us?

Their typical plan when people came over was to put Kingy in an enclosure. So he could be around everyone and be included, but wouldn't lunge or bite anyone if he got scared. It was so at this party--they had a big 10 foot pen on the lawn with Momo and Kingy in it. Kingy was barking at anyone who came close, out of fear. And he did so when we approached.

I was respectful and kept my distance from the pen, just speaking softly and telling him how good it was to see him. Bark bark bark. Bark bark bark bark. "Don't come anywhere NEAR here!" he was yelling. I continued to tell him how glad I was he had a happy home. I was getting ready to walk away without getting to pet him, when something changed. He stopped barking, and his tail--hesitantly at first and then wildly--began to wag. I dared to come a little closer, and now he was jumping jumping jumping trying to get to me. I reached out a hand, palm down, and he kissed it and wriggled, so I took it as an invitation. I got to pet him, and leaned down for face kisses from my sweet little dude. Chris was there with the camera.

You can see miserable Momo in the background, not getting ANY of my attention she SO RICHLY DESERVES. Don't worry, she got a little petting, too. But seeing my Kingy again, and him remembering me after years apart? A magic moment. I am so glad I have this photo to remind me how precious these little creatures are. I look forward to fostering again someday.

Going through paperwork today to get some old non-business filing taken care of, I came across this letter I wrote. As it says, I write letters to all the future forever families of our foster pups--included with a printed little "scrapbook" page of images of them--sharing personal tips on their behavior, needs, wants, etc, and sharing stories from their time with us. It is cathartic for me, but I also hope it helps get the new families and their new little member better acquainted and connected from day 1. This was the hardest, and longest, foster letter I ever wrote, but it was also the most joyful. He continues to thrive and be absolutely adored by his family, including a once jealous little sibling, the mighty pup known as Momo!


"Dear Cameron and Whitney, March 17, 2017
One reason trying to write this letter is a challenge is, frankly, that you already know him so well. Rather than the usual hour or two of meet n’ greets that other new adopters get with their dogs before they take them home, you have had days with him. You have been briefed and debriefed about his habits, his quirks, his personality. You have had sleepovers with him showing you all the glowing characteristics I would usually gush about in such a letter, and you are also keenly aware of his unique challenges and have embraced him fully, lovingly, without judgement. What a lucky little dog he is to have you as his new family.

So it turns out Winnie. LOVES. clothing. 

Well, it's been an up and down experience trying to plan my morning festivities for the inauguration.
First, Amy and Simon and I were going to the eastside to join Celise and Tyler and Claire to watch at their house.

Then Tyler got sick with a cold and it was off.

Then Amy and I made plans to take Simon to the Center House to watch on the Big Screen. Early morning, yes, but I was so excited!

Then dogs happened.

Not my dogs. Two other dogs...running down the middle of the street at midnight last night. No collars. I slipped on shoes and ran outside, Chris not far behind with a flashlight. We found them frolicking around on 1st Ave in the dark and freezing night. I called to them and a little black and white (French?) bulldog came tearing over to us, so excited. She leapt immediately into Chris' arms and wriggled and wriggled. The other one, a tan boxer, was skittish and would come nowhere near and continued to bolt on down the street and out of view.

We wrestled the wriggly happy little bulldog puppy back to the house, put her in the car, and went driving around the neighborhood looking for the other one. But no luck. It was foggy and dark and way too late to be driving around. We thought we knew the neighbor who the boxer belonged to, but after knocking on their door and explaining why we were on their porch at 12:30 in the morning, we found we were wrong. But they were grateful that we asked (they have a two tan lab mixes), and were understanding of our latenight knocking on their door.

Back home, we made some calls just in case there was a 24 hour solution for dropping off strays, but there wasn't. So we started trying to figure out what we would do for the night. We put up a doggie gate between the living room and the dining room, but Little Miss Wiggles (as we call her) was spriiiiingy, and could leap up to the top of the gate and clutch on in an attempt to get over to the other dogs. We tried some introductions one at a time with Miss Wriggles and the others, but she was very nippy-spazzy puppy. And in a house already full up on insecure female tension (it always is that way with Lucy here--the two bitches both want to rule), it wasn't going to work. Then I started digging around for the old crate we used when we first got Gretchen, and Chris dug it out from the depths of a dark dirty closet somewhere.

We lined it with a blanket and a toy and coaxed her in, and she settled right down. The other dogs were locked in the bedroom all night. A couple little whimpers, but mostly went to sleep. We were in bed by 1:30am, but couldn't sleep. We were amped up and inconsolable at the thought of the other dog that was out there in the freezing cold and running in the street...I think I finally drifted off somewhere after 2am.

*gotta go watch the inauguration on my TV now... back later*

Okay, I am back. That was awesome. *happy sigh*

Anyway, little girl Wiggles slept peacefully through the night. Our dogs were antsy at first but slept. Then I was up at 7:30ish to try and take her out to go to the bathroom, which she didn't do...until she got back in the house and peed and pooed directly in front of the TV. *snort* We set up an elaborate system of dog gate, open door from the upstairs room, towels, and a cart, to prevent little Miss from seeing the other dogs, getting over-excited, and hopping over the gate. So now the other three are content on the other wide of the "system", little miss is snoring and snorting contentedly asleep, and I am saying "Amen, and Amen, and Amen"...

Sorry I have been so out of touch, dear friends. I just have not had time or inclination to write. Feels like a ton has happened, but *shrug*

This past weekend Chris and I attended his little sister's wedding. I am sure most of you know what I am talking about when I say that there are a handful of weddings you attend in your life that feel...perfectly...right. Where the couple is so obviously right for one another, you feel honored and full of joy at being witness to it. Stephanie and Nathan's wedding was one of those rare, beautiful unions.

The wedding was on a beach in Morro Bay, CA. The backdrop was this sandstone wall, overgrown with hanging shrubery, with a small creek cutting along the front of it. We were seated on a sandy bar facing the wall and creek, with the ocean crashing against the rocks to our left. It was overcast, but warm enough, and the rays still managed to burn us a bit. The wedding attendees were limited to a small number--parhaps 30+ of us in all.

The ceremony included a multi-stage water blessing. On the alter was a pitcher of water, and as guests arrived, we were invited to walk up, hold the pitcher of water, and "bless" it with good thoughts and feelings for the couple. Chris and I did so, holding the pitcher between us, and kissed over it, infusing it with love and successful marriage juju. The ceremony itself was very personal to them, for certain, and various readings enumerated the significance and symbolism of water and the color green (their wedding color) in their relationship. The attendants had processed with tall staffs topped with multi-colored ribbons, and stood like sentries creating a circle around all of us--keeping all that juju in! My favorite part was when the two entwined their fingers to form a sort of bowl with their upturned palms, and the many qualities of the blessed water was invoked as it was poured into their hands. Then they walked into the creek along with the officiant for a private exchange and blessing, after which they said their vows and exchanged rings. Seeing Stephanie kiss his ring before placing it on his hand makes me tear up to remember it even now. And the imagery of she in her beautiful silk gown and Nathan in his kilt standing in the rushing creek...so beautiful.

Afterward, they had a lot of people taking various photos, and Stephanie reminded Chris that she had asked him to take "official" photos. He didn't remember that, but we had been in this role before and enjoy it very much. And it had the added bonus of Chris getting to play with his new camera I got him as a belated anniversary gift (which is freakin' sweet!) Sometimes I wonder if we shouldn't hire out to do wedding photography together...it's fun! I do the "staging"--they stylist if you will. We frame them together, and Chris does the magic with the camera (aperature values? huh?) Having this beautiful beach as a backdrop, and two willing subjects (and their family and wedding party) made for a fun and creative time. Chris has offloaded the photos, but I haven't seen them yet. Can't wait to see how they turned out.

I was bummed that we didn't have more time to explore the beautiful region. We flew in Friday night, went straight to the (delicious and beautiful) Italian rehearsal dinner. Then Saturday at 11am was the wedding, we did photos, then rushed to the park to help decorate and set up for the barbecue reception, then hung there for hours eating and chatting, then back to the room for me to nap in preparation for an intended night out with the bridesmaids. We were on our way out to dinner when Gina stopped by and admitted she and the gals were too tired to hang out after all (they had been running around taking care of all the details the entire weekend). We tried to find a place open to eat, but everything was closed around 9:30. We picked up dinner at the local Albertsons instead, and had a "romantic" meal of pizza and salad on our hotel room bed.

Sunday we checked out at 11am, got some breakfast at a lovely little cafe in San Luis Obispo, and then hung at the tiny airport until our 2:30 flight to LAX, to continue through to Seattle.


On the trip home we experienced continuing exception to an otherwise uneventful trip, which is due to the fact that "Christopher Moore" is a name on the friggin' no-fly list. So thanks to George W, Chris (and I, with him) can never do electronic check-in, and they have to take our ID's into some back room and cross-check his birthdate and description with the guy who shares his name (which includes this other poor guy who is also not-guilty-but-treated-like-he-is). In LAX, they were having various issues with planes and computers which had us switching to a different flight (which was a 1:30 flight which was delayed to OUR flight time, which we switched to, and OUR flight was delayed an hour), and that combined with Chris' name being George W'd, we stood in line for (no exaggeration) 2 hours! Yes, our entire stopover was spent standing in line and at a counter waiting for a guy making calls all over the place to verify Chris' identity as an Honest To Goodness Law-Abiding American. I pressed the gentleman (who was very nice, though frustratingly un-forthcoming in sharing with us when the computer delays persisted) to allow us to step away from the counter long enough to get some food to take on the plane, and when we got back, they had finally cleared him. Then they issued tickets for the wrong flight, and we had to change that over before rushing to use the bathroom and right to the gate to board immediately. Chris is eager for a new President to take office, and hopefully fix these ridiculously ineffective procedures to "keep our air travel safe". *snort* While we're at it, chalk up the carriage of liquids and gels on planes. I packaged some of my products, but left the rest in my carry-on, and nobody said boo to me. I mean, come on. Why in a labeled package? I could put ANYTHING in a "Herbal Essences" travel bottle--the label does not do a damn thing. Limits to 3oz is also ridiculous, considering I can fill a gallon sized bag with multiple 3oz containers; not to mention I could have 2 friends do the same thing, and pretty soon we have over a pound of "shampoo" on the flight. *waving dismissive hand at the government*

But I digress!


Sadly, a quick drive through Burien revealed I was again to be completely disappointed I couldn't get my Wah Kue's! They closed and locked the doors as we drove up at 8:30pm! WHAT THE?! We picked up some Mandarin Gate (poor substitute) on the way home, and when we got there...the house felt sooo empty! NO PUPPIES! WAH! We pretty much pined all night for them.

In the AM, Amy and Erik's friend Pawl came to get the old couch we were giving away (they grow 'em tall in that part of the country!). Anyway, he took the sofa, and we head out happily to get the pups. Ah, family! The report card from the Doggy Haven staff said they didn't eat as well as their last visit. And Gretchen was timid around th big dogs, which is a new development. We need to get them back to the dog park... So they put Gretchen in with the little dogs area. Both Loki and Gretchen apparently threw a FIT when they were separated ("1-2-3-AAAAW!"), so they put Loki in with the little dogs along with her, and apparently they BOTH were a million times happier in there, and the rest of their stay was a happy one. :) The report also gushed about how sweet and cute Gretchen is and how much all the staff adored her. We have the best puppies.

Home again, we cuddled and coddled the pups for a while, but had to head out again...this time, to finally begin our "Ikea collection" with a new Ektorp chair. Doesn't matter how few things you come for, you walk out with more, and this was no exception. We wandered through the store, sitting in different chairs and taking in different inspiration ideas. We discovered that the slipcover we thought we wanted for the chair was waaay brighter red than we realized AND was this fluffy corduroy fabric. The other options were entirely not right for us, but we resigned ourselves to the plain beige, with hopes that they would come out with a different color cover in some future year that we would want.

We grabbed several other items, including the rug I have wanted for a while and thought would look good in the new dining room (it does!), and on our way out was checked the As-Is section...and tada. Another Ektorp chair--a display model with a few scuffs on the slipcover--was for sale at a very discounted price. And to boot, everything in the As-Is section was an additional 25% off that day only! Over $100 off total. It had a white slipcover, which was not our plan, but we figured using white in the interim--washing it as best we could, and swapping it out when we get a color we want--would work fine. So home we went with two WHITE Ektorp chairs. WHITE. With two BLACK HAIRED DOGS. With the wet, muddy Seattle WINTER COMING ON. Yes, it is temporary, but it still felt (and feels) so...wrong!!

We took the next two hours before I left for class playing rearrange. Sadly, the way I dreamed we would arrange the room will in NO way work. Particularly when we get the Ektorp sofa-bed to match, which is a foot longer than the current little loveseat, there is simply no other way to arrange the room than the way it is currently set up. So I got no satisfaction in that arena. But Chris was realy determined to get a layout I was would be happy with before I had to dash off to class. He made some great suggestions on re-orienting the current layout, and when I was in the shower hosin' off, he cleaned the room and set up lots of beautiful candles. It looked lovely, but still felt "off". Bottom line: part of it is the fact that the chairs are white and larger than the loveseat--making them stick out and seem larger than they are. It also makes the loveseat look "freakishly small" (Chris' words), which makes us all the more eager to get the sofa ASAP. The current TV stand is small and very different than the other furniture in the room, and combine that with it being all the way across the room, and the rest of the furniture is cuddled around the cozy red rug, it feels very separate and different. Once we get the TV bench on our list, it will help tie it together, and give us room to store our DVD collection. And last on the list of furniture "to-do's" is to get a large, square coffee table. This narrow one we currently have adds to the tunnel-feeling of the room as it is oriented now.

The good news is that the room feels very opened up! It feels cozier--more conversational-nook feel than it had before. The whole room feels softer since we angled some stuff to take some of the sharp corners out, and the furniture feels larger and more "overstuffed" in the small room (but without actually BEING bigger--we downsized overall). We are eager to get some new art up, as the walls are more exposed now, and the blank canvass it reveals is begging for attention. As it sits now, Chris and I each have our own easy chair. Gretchen says, "FINALLY! I have the couch to myself I always deserved!"

Now what to do for the bedroom when we're done in here. Or shall we work on the kitchen...? So many plans!


Today is my first troupe night since Renee has left for Germany for the rest of the year. I am trippin'! I feel so WEIRD! Renee is so much a part of my dance life, it's like a limb has been cut off, and tonight I have to try and work without it. I know that sounds dramatic, but it really feels more acute than I realized. I hope she gets a chance to e-mail soon. I wonder how her trip went, and how things are shaping up? They have been there about 3 days by now. Only 10 weeks and 4 days left... Heehee