Living in the moment

"Her grandmother looked at her pointedly, and then tips her head in Thor's direction." (Excerpts from I Bring the Fire Part I: Wolves)

We all do it. We all find ourselves acting out the moment when reading books.

I've been guilty of gasping or laughing at an imaginary sister, teacher or super hero or two, even swiping and contorting my arm while reaching for my weapon at my side, or raising my eyebrows in bewilderment  -- living out the moment of my main character.

Just hope I don't do it with a room filled with people or worse, my family. I'll never hear the end of it!

Tickets please!

If you know our family, you know we're huge baseball fans no matter the team. OK so I admit our loyalties lie with another "red" team (Go Cardinals!) but that's besides the point. By any other name baseball is baseball is baseball and we still love it!

When you're blessed with good friends who knows someone who knows someone who knows someone who can get a block of tickets to a Major League Baseball game in the nosebleed section, you swallow your pride and accept them with appreciation! We did! We're not too proud to beg!

So we froze our okoles off (that's Hawaiian-speak for your derrière) and we braved what I felt was a below-zero wind chill factor. I wanted to be there at Angels Stadium, to be in the crowd, to hear the National Anthem and "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" sung, and watch the vendors sell their Churros, popcorn, pretzels, and sodas up and down the aisles and keep their vertigo under check and not fall straight down into the abyss.

It's baseball season!

Tickets please!

To the Max

It seems no matter how I'm feeling, this guy always manages to make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside and out. Sure, he can be the family's big pain in the rear, but Max always finds his way back into our hearts.

Some things I'm thankful are:

I have him to thank for providing Steve and I the time for our walks around the neighborhood.

I have him to thank for getting me out of the house more often to walk between one to three miles daily when exercise seems non-existent with my busy schedule.

I have him to thank for being a good listener when I need to vent sometimes.

I have him to thank for cozying up by my feet while he waits for me -- no matter how wee into the night I am up working, blogging, writing, or photo/video-editing.

I have him to thank for giving us a good scare a few months ago when he jumped over the fence to get "friendly" with the neighbor dog even though he got bit in the paws, yelped to high heaven and Christopher had to hop over to rescue his poor little butt. A dose of good ol' American humble pie!

I have him to thank for our instant house alarm and doorbell when someone is here visiting - friend or foe.

I have him to thank for being a big little brother to Panther even if he thinks he's the alpha dog (now quit trying to hump all the time).

I have him to thank for being Max.

The Day in the Life of Panther and Max

Today was any other kind of normal day in the life of Panther and Max. 

I worked from home and around 11 a.m. I let the dogs out in the backyard and I returned to my desk, tapping away at my keyboard. I was on deadline and had a few projects to get out before end of day.

I could hear the pair in the backyard going at their usual: a bark here, a yelp there, chasing and growling and the occasional scratch at the back screen door begging to be let back in.

Panther waits to play ball.

With the faint sounds of the dynamic furry duo melodically dog-speaking to one another, I continued my work. Then a scratch at the door from Panther again chimed clear as a bell prompting my not-so-stearn almost-on-cue command, "Stop, Panther." Shortly following, was Max's low-resonating bark --and I found myself saying, "Whoa, that sounded even clearer than Panther's scratch on the door." Strange, as I shook my head. I shrugged.

Then another scratch on the door along with a sharp yelp from Panther rang through. "Holy cow," I thought, "did that come from the FRONT door?" 

Like a scary movie, I reached for the front door handle and turned the knob slowly...secretly praying underneath my breath, "Please, Lord, don't tell me that's Panther out THERE?" The door opened and sneaking his way through was -- yes, you guessed it, Panther! This jackrabbit! Without a word, without a sound, without as much a growl, it was as if he held his paw to me and said, "Don't ask!" 

I shut the door and yelled, "Ari...Panther just walked through the front door. WHAT THE HECK? Panther just walked through the front door??? Go find Max." 

She leaped to her feet, ran out from her room to the living room asking, "What?" Exactly.

Max is begging for food at the table.

She reached for the front door, opened it, and guess who was sitting on the front porch? Yep. Max, with his ears down and slanted eyes. Caught.

He matter-of-factly walked through the door, crossed the cold tile floor and it was as if he, too, raised his paw to say, "Don't ask."

I wrangled both dogs and placed them in their kennels. Ariana and I went to investigate and found the back side gate (which stands taller than 6 feet high) unlocked and wide open.

I wish I were a fly on the wall -- or a flea on the dogs -- to see just how they managed to jiggle the gate open.

I chuckled and still wonder in amazement: 1) how did they do it? 2) how long were they out there? 3) were they calling to me from the front of the house (was that them barking?), and 4) what was going through their heads, Panther's in particular, when they both decided to KNOCK on the front door?