Scram in the Apple

Last night when we were leaving Le Cirque, Snaps was almost blinded by the pooparazzi’s flashes going off. “Let’s scram,” he muttered out of the side of his mouth, around his recently-lit cigarette. “Oui,” I concurred, feeling my kneecaps turn hot from the glare of the lights.

We scrammed, heading for a far more comfortable, if less glamorous, address across town.

*UPDATE: This was an accidental post here, but hey — why not link to my new blog, a blog for Snaps, since we have a lot of fascinating conversations in my head. This is the first post. 😀


The Evening Walk With Mr. Snaps

So this evening I took Snappy Shatner out on a 10-minute amble that slowly became a half-hour walk because the weather was so gorgeous. Bright blue skies, cool breeze, and my neighbors out gardening and taking care of business… a good time.

As we walked toward the church at the end of the street, we passed a man detailing his car: laying on his back in the back seat, legs hanging out the open door, cleaning off the inside of the rear window. All the car doors were open, there was a cloth laying on the roof of the car, bucket of cleaning supplies on the ground next to his legs, and music was pumping out the open doors… it made me think (ok, a little) of my Great-Uncle Lloyd, who used to go outside in his shiny white shoes and white leisure slacks and lovingly clean and wax his gigantic car once a week, even though it was almost never driven anywhere. :}

It’s nice to live in a neighborhood with people who go outside. For a long time, nobody really went outside except the couples from four condos on the main drag, who would sit on lawn chairs to spy and bitch about who was breaking which condo law. We used to call those people The Council Of Doom. They would call infractions in to the condo office and then call you, once it was too late for you to save yourself, to complain and ask you to fix it. You would spend time and money fixing it in hopes of avoiding an infraction, and then still get a fine. Those people were AWFUL. They called me in one time for sunbathing in a bathing suit, then were very grumpy to find out indecent exposure wasn’t actually an infraction. I was so amused that I sat out every freaking day that week in a bikini even though it got chilly and I was freezing to death. TAKE THAT, YOU JOY-SUCKERS. lol I think it’s the only time I ever “won”.

Anyway!! So past the car-washing neighbor we went, past the guy in the baseball cap and ZZ-Top beard who was (not sure why) out sitting in the back of his pickup truck smoking – we exchanged a very polite “hello” – and then we got to the lady neighbor who lives on the cul-de-sac behind me. Oh lord. This is a lovely, lovely, very sweet lady, who has a voice that shears cleanly through glass and many different kinds of metal. When I am well-disposed, I think of her voice as an oboe. When I have a headache, it is a dental drill on the world’s largest chalkboard. Also, her volume knob is stuck at 11. However, she acknowledged the universal truth that Snaps is the most adorable dog in the Universe, and once she had scritched his ears, we settled in for a nice conversation, and I learned that one of her cats can tell when she’s going to have a seizure and he warns her: he crouches on her chest in a particular way and cries just so, and she knows. Fascinating, these animals we live with.

We continued on our merry way past the church, and Snaps had still not Done The Deed, so I took him to the top destination for poo time: The Magical Poo Forest. Now, I’m not sure when or why I named it this – it was probably one of our early-morning walks when the dew was on the leaf and my eyes were dimmed with the fresh love of the Little Man and I was still a bit balmy from sleep… however, it’s a nice bit of grass by a split-rail fence, under the majestic spreading arms of Some Kind Of Lovely Big Tree (city girl, sorry – um, I think it’s the kind that was in Gone With The Wind, if that helps 😀 😀 😀 GO ME)  and, the most pertinent point, next to a dumpster. So we went to the Magical Poo Forest, and NOTHING. I even sang him “Stop In The Name Of Poo” and “Tainted Poo”, but alas!

So we moved on to the Elysian Fields (yes, I name places on our walks, what of it? Do you not?), which are more grassy bits overlooking the MVP Sports complex and some strip malls, and OH MY GOD, someone was baking chocolate chip cookies back there. SADIST. Chocolate and butter and vanilla and brown sugar and none for me. “Evil! Pure and simple from the Eighth Dimension!”

Anyhoo, we gamboled gayly through the Elysian Fields, sniffing here, marking there; I serenaded the Boy with “Last Dance, Last Chance/ For Poo”, and “The Final PooDown”, but no dice (and also, no poo). So now I know he’s going to look at me at 11pm and say, “c’mon, lady, I gotta go” and I’m going to wish I had a song that went “It’s too late to poo now, Buddy/ ‘coz I took you for that nice long walk at 7pm/ and the sprinklers are on now/ so we’d have to swim/ And I love you, but/ Well…”  Maybe the name of it could be “The Night You Learn To Poo In The Back Yard”.

I hope you enjoyed my (slightly scatological) tale of our evening walk. Snapperoo is now sleeping at my calf, unaware of the impending Poo Doom that awaits. (snort) Ok, maybe not. But I do love saying things like POO DOOM. And I love singing him little songs, because he SO does not love my singing. 😀

“Mom. You’re embarrassing me. Stop singing about poo. And NEVER sing the Hall and Oates song about my poo being on your list of the best things in life, because that’s just creepy.”

Oops, I Got A Dog

So yesterday, this happened.

My husband would never consent to us getting a dog, for a variety of reasons, although I’ve worked at home since 1999 and would have loved one. I’ve wanted one basically my whole life but grew up in a home with too many allergies to have one.

Fast forward to the day I began seriously thinking about divorce… it wasn’t seriously part of my thought process, but you have to know there was a part of my brain thinking, “Ooh! I can get a dog!”

A little more ahead to yesterday, when I went to a “blind date” arranged for me with this dog in need of a home… he was a mutt, at least containing chihuahua and dachshund and possibly others as well, and I WAS NOT going to bring him home. NOT.


Well. Not until I saw him, and played with him, and held him on my lap for a while, and until he melted my heart. So now, oops, I have an accidental dog.

His full name is DJ Raja Snaps, His Highness the Maharaja of Snapistan. Or Snapierville. Or whatever. It changes. lol But his previous name was TJ, so we’re starting there and working our way out. :} Wish me luck!!

More later. But first, the money shot. This is right after his bath,  when I tried to wash the faint smell of skunk and manure off him. He is now a very sweet and sweet-smelling boy.



Ok. Off to bed!