Spring

I have never been as much of a spring fan as I am a fall fan. I love everything about the fall - the colors, the clothes, the food, the impending holidays. The spring is the last coolness before we endure the 6 months of summer that Texas enjoys each year. At least it seems like 6 months.

As promised, some picture updates:

These are my two beauties at the Huntsville State Park. For those of you that are not in Texas, Huntsville is home of our Death Row Maximum Security Prison (nice!) and also a very pretty state park. As if one cancels out the other. There were no bluebonnets in the park that I could get to to take a picture, so these random wildflowers had to do. The best bluebonnet patches were on the side of the highway, but the noise would drive Christopher crazy, and I don't trust Mallory to not take off into traffic. So, stay tuned for next year for bluebonnet pictures, and if you look hard enough, these red ones are pretty too - right? At least both kids are looking at the camera.

We started an Easter tradition this year. I told the kids they could eat their chocolate bunny's ears for breakfast. Christopher thought that was hilarious - "Eat the ears for breakfast, Mommy. That's so silly." But, he went to town on his bunny. I helped Mallory out with hers, so that the bunny would not melt in her hands while she screamed, "Mine mine mine!" So, I broke hers off and she ate them happily.

Here's a great shot of Christopher. He was in the driveway helping Dad wash the truck. Dad let him play with the power washer, so he was watering the plants and just having a grand old time. Spring in Texas does allow us the luxury of water play in April, while many of our northern friends were experiencing snow! The sunglasses are Batman - he loves those. The hat has Bumblebee - an old school Transformer from the Animated series. He loves his Transformers. He loves things that are action packed and full of energy and good & bad guys. Absolutely all boy.

And, here's my Blondie at the State park in Huntsville. She loves the slide. She yells, "Whee!" every time she goes down it. Every time. She is not a poser for pictures - so to get this kind of smile, I have to (1) take a lot of pictures and (2) catch her at just the right moment. Like this one - where she is so happy to be at the top of that slide, she can hardly contain herself. And, I promise you, there was a "WHEEE!" as she came down for the millionth time.

And this past Saturday, we had a day of solid rain. I mean, one day, solid rain. Like 4 inches in a day. So at 630PM, when the sun FINALLY came out, we went out puddle jumping. Again , the warm weather allows us the luxury of jumping in puddles after the rain. They got soaked and laughed and had a great time. We came in before the mosquitos knew the standing water was there, and everyone was happy. Especially Mom and Dad, who were so happy to get out of the house.

Hope this catches you all up on the lives and times here in Houston. We send our love to everyone!

Waffles, Sweet Waffles

The reason this blog has been a little silent is because I wouldn't allow myself to post anything more until I wrote this post about my sweet, sweet dog. It's just a little honor that I owe her.

I got Waffles in the spring of 1999 at a very mere 6 weeks old. She was the result of an irresponsible litter of puppies had by my mother-in-law's unspayed dachshund. She weighed 1 pound, 6 ozs. She was the runt of the litter and just didn't quite look like the others. I remember my mother-in-law telling me, "Keep the all black one, she's the smartest." Those of you who knew Waffles later in life knew that that was not exactly true . . . . .

I named her Waffles after a Chow that I had met at the SPCA in Austin, where I was dropping off donations. This Chow was so sweet and mild mannered, and her family had died in a flood. She was the most beautiful golden color, and I knew I couldn't have a dog that big, but as I sat and petted her, I promised her that my very next dog would be named Waffles, after her.

After finding homes for Waffles' siblings, we settled down to be a two-dog home. After Shelby's initial disgust, she took to Waffles in a maternal way, and they learned to be a family together. And we with them.

Of all of my dogs, Waffles was extremely bonded to me. She was protective of me and loved nothing more than to lay scrunched up right next to me, just as close as she could. If I was laying on the couch, she loved to lay on my chest and put the side of her face and her fuzzy lips right up against mine, and I would kiss her. She absolutely loved that.

When I brought both of my human babies home, she loved them and paced around them to be sure that they were OK, and that I was OK. I preserved her spot in the bed each night, allowing that to be our special time, and she enjoyed every minute of it. As we all got older, and my time got taken up by more living beings, Waffles never fretted or acted out. All she asked was for her spot next to me in my bed every night, and she was happy. We should all be so satisfied with something so simple.

As many of you know, about 3-4 weeks ago, Waffles disappeared. She got out from under our fence during a particularly terrible storm here in Houston. She was absolutely terrified of storms, and this one was a doozy. She went right out the dog door and right under the fence. She did not have a collar on, though she is microchipped. They saw her at the school across the street at about 230. We started looking at 300. We looked and looked. We posted signs, we coordinated with the neighborhood lost-and-found-dog-lady, I visited all the PetCos and PetSmarts, and all the local vets. I posted on Craig's list.

I don't know what has happened to my beloved Waffles. Maybe she has gone to heaven to meet our Heavenly Father, and she is curled up right next to my own heavenly father, snuggled up next to him, eating the Cheez It crumbs that are undoubtedly on his shirt, even in heaven. Maybe she got picked up by an unsuspecting landscaper or construction guy who saw a well taken care of, though nervous, chihuahua-y looking dog and thought his kids might like her. Maybe someone was really lonely and God saw it fit for Waffles to serve out the rest of her life serving another lonely soul. Maybe I will never know.

What I do know is that I will look for Waffles for a very long time. I will scope out the neighborhood watching for someone that has her, and doesn't want to give her back. I will check the Animal Control website for dogs that look like her in the event that someone took her, and then didn't want her anymore. I hold a small glimmer of hope that I will be reunited with my soulmate dog again someday. If nothing else, I will be reunited with her when I make my own journey to my Heavenly Father.

So now's the time to say thanks, Waffles. Thanks for being such a unique, quirky little dog that we loved so dearly. Thanks for your patience every time I found pee on the carpet and knew it was you, and perhaps reacted angrily to you. Thanks for making me the one special person in your life. Thanks for making me laugh with your bat ears and your bald neck. Thanks for being the role model of what unconditional love is.

Until we meet again, my sweet, sweet Waffles, may God hold you in the palm of His Hand.