Something To Bitch About

We got 2 notifications in the mail last month about the dogs being due for some tests and vaccinations. They’re due every spring for these. And with the current situation with COVID-19, I decided that we better get on the stick and get it done. You know, because in just about every post-apocalyptic film and television series, there’s one character with a dog to alert them to danger or cybernetic organisms.

I called and they’ve changed how they see patients. I accepted the changes with the ease of a gazelle leaping over a fallen tree. We’ve got to do everything we can, you know?

I made two appointments because our bitches can be a handful. The little one, Lucy, gets very territorial and growls like a 10-pound hound from Hell at the bigger one, CJ, that’s as sweet as honey. So, Lucy got the first appointment at 10:20 A.M. We arrived a few minutes before the appointment. I was instructed to phone the front desk to let them know that we had arrived. 25 minutes later, a young lady came to the car to ask a few preliminary questions. Lucy hasn’t exhibited any issues other than those related to her 18 years upon this planet.

I think she’s going deaf or she’s gotten very choosy about what she hears. Her arthritis is making her apprehensive about using stairs and jumping. The young woman scooped her up out of the car and Lucy’s eyes got wide. She looked at me as if she was saying, “Where in the hell are they taking me?”

I tried to get back to my AC/DC research while I waited, but it didn’t last too long. The same young woman brought Lucy back to the car in about 15 minutes. I rolled down the window and said, “I’m sorry. But that’s not my cat.” She blinked a few times and then realized that I was joking with her.

But Lucy is in overall good health and strong as little horse. The woman handed Lucy to me through the window and hair came off as if I were blowing a dandelion flower’s seeds into the wind.

Lucy didn’t want me out of her sight for the rest of the day. If I went into another room and the door was closed, that little hellhound whined her ass off. She’s sitting at my right foot as I type this right now almost 24 hours later.

A few hours later, Leanne Petty alerted me to a situation near our home. As more news came to light, there was a vehicle chased by police that led to a multi-car crash and a law officer involved shooting. It turned out that this had transpired in front of our grocery store and Thursday Hampton Hellcats drinking establishment. They had shut down the 5-lane street for the investigation.

CJ had an appointment for 4 P.M. Since the street was shut down, I didn’t know what to expect. I left at 3:30 P.M. for a 10-minute trip to the vet’s office. I knew where to turn to avoid the sealed off area, but as expected, there was a long line to speak to the officer where they had the artery shut off two blocks away at Brewer Ave. He had the majority of motorists turning right onto Brewer. My turn to avoid the area was just a few hundred feet away on the left. The officer asked where I was headed, I told him and he said, “Go” and I took off cautiously.

I called to the front desk and they came out to the car within minutes. I went over the preliminary questions with the same young woman from my earlier visit. Since CJ weighs over 50 pounds, she opened up the passenger side back door to take CJ inside. CJ led her around to the driver’s side of the car, sat down, and refused to go any further. I stepped out of the car and CJ got right up. I told the young woman that I’d keep a safe distance to help coax CJ inside. She took right off with the young lady. But when she opened the side door to go inside, CJ sat down and refused to enter. At this point, I was at the end of the building watching. I took a couple of steps towards them and CJ got right up and went inside.

Ten minutes later, she brought CJ back out to the car. The doctor was going to call again with information and questions. CJ is getting a little heavy since someone in this house constantly feeds her things like bread, chips, and other foods high in carbohydrates. But overall, she’s in good shape.

I feel like CJ, a dog that we acquired from a rescue group, thought she was being sent away from us. I don’t know how many hands that she’s passed through in her short amount of years on this planet, but I can’t help but think that she thought her time with us was up. She’s the sweetest dog that I’ve ever met and gets hurt feelings very easily.

When CJ was being brought out, she was pulling that same young lady through the parking lot directly towards the car. She got into the back seat and gave me a dry lick from the bottom of my chin to my temple. She calmed down and took a nap on the way back home.

CJ and I arrived back home to find something WONDERFUL awaiting us which will be covered in the next podcast that I hope to have out over the weekend.

Also, in that podcast, I will reveal the winners from the last Turtle Taste Test gathering from a few weeks ago. We did a Ranch dressing test this time. I'll also reveal the winners from previous Turtle Taste Tests. And I’ll give an update on my home-quarantine sanity project involving the rock band AC/DC.

You can find the podcast available on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Stitcher, Breaker, YouTube (once they’re rendered to MP4), and just about anywhere you can get podcasts.

The Hampton Hellcats

I hang out with mostly retired folks where I live now. Since I’m underemployed, I’ve embraced a lot of their lifestyle and activities… The Hampton Hellcats Sunday morning breakfast at 7 A.M. The Monday morning meeting at 10 A.M. And the Thirsty Thursday afternoon meet up at Lowes Foods in Clemmons. All but one of those activities involves some kind of alcohol consumption. The core of the group has always been my father-in-law Jim and his best friend Bait. I’ve been lucky enough to tag along and now I’m a presence that can usually be counted upon. Ya know, like a rash on a baby’s bottom.

My stepsons and I were made members of the Hampton Hellcats in order to keep the tradition alive and well. The Hellcats were created in the 1950s and used to hangout near the home of Richard Childress. It seems that they terrorized the mean street of Hampton Road in Clemmons and where it winds its way through Davidson County.

But these days it’s usually Bait and Jim terrorizing each other. At times, you’d think that they absolutely hate each other. But they just like to contradict and argue with each other. Once, they got into an argument about which end of a mattress cover belonged at the top of the bed. My stepson Sam got to witness the whole incident and felt bad that he didn’t document it with video. It got heated with all kinds of expletives being thrown around before they called the customer service number to find out directly from the manufacturers. I don’t even remember who came out on the right end of that deal unless you count Sam being in the right place at the right time to observe it all. You will never know boredom around those two men, I assure you. And seriously, you could make a reality series with those two.

The Sunday breakfast is usually a chill and hang with a core of characters… Jim, Bait, Andy, Randy, Brent (not so much anymore), and myself. Chad has made appearances on the last 2 Sundays. We usually gather around 7, talk about what we’ve done during the week, gripe about the Winston-Salem Journal being late, and eat. Bait fries the bacon and sausage. Randy brews the decaf and he used to make the sausage gravy, but one little criticism didn’t sit quite right.

I have no opinion since I don’t eat that stuff. I just don’t care for its ultra-blandness. It’s like eating paper Mache paste to me.

Brent would take care of the biscuits, but that has fallen into Randy’s hands now. Jim fries up the eggs or scrambles them for a large turnout and I usually try to wash the dishes. Bait can be hard-headed about letting me do something or maybe he feels that I don’t do a good job. We usually break up between 8:30 or 9.

Monday morning meetings are different. I’ve made it to core group status. Sometimes Richard (Bait’s neighbor) will meet with us. Randy has shown up on several occasions. We’ve also had D-Wayne and Mike. And if it’s raining, Brannon will show up.

Brannon shared his lunch of sardines once. I haven’t eaten sardines in over 30 or 40 years. Just never felt the desire, but we devoured those two cans and they’ve become an almost regular food at the Monday meetings. Sardines or kippered snacks. I’ve even started eating them at home. I’m quite fond of the sardines packaged with Louisiana Hot Sauce (AJ Allmendinger sponsor).

Every meeting starts with the ceremonial opening of a growler. The beer starts flowing and then we talk about current events and what projects that we have coming up for the week. We also set out to solve world problems, but we haven’t taken notes to make our reports to the United Nations.

But here lately, we’ve gotten into watching Bob Ross videos on YouTube. It can be quite relaxing.

I found his show on Netflix and put it on once as we sat around the table drinking beer and eating pork rinds with Bait’s wife Bobbie. But for some reason, they like watching on YouTube. And I say that only because I have an OCD about watching things in order even though every show completes a painting. It’s not like ‘The Joy of Painting’ had two parters or season ending cliffhangers. I’m just wired weirdly.

But I am making THIS blog post a two parter. I hope to have the second part up tomorrow or Wednesday. And here’s a hint… I’ll be talking about Bob Ross.