Letters to Holly

Friday, July 13

Extra Innings

Your Sis came into town with me yesterday and killed time while I was at work. We met for lunch and settled on the Cottonwood Cafe, a narrow bar eatery near the Jolie Rouge. Wasn't bad. We took care of the pets after work, and Kempas was still there, still chained. She didn't want to eat the medicine pills; she normally holds out for a while before giving in. But this time she was resolute. I had to pry open her jaws and pop the pills down her throat. She wasn't too upset by this. I really need to run this weekend. I haven't been able to since Monday.

We met up with teacher buddies to catch the Tourists play the Athens Greenjackets last night. We got box seats and enjoyed a great view along the third-base line. Great weather, great crowd. The game went past nine innings, and the Tourists came from behind to win with a two-out walk-off grand slam. That's worth the price of admission right there. The $1 beers didn't hurt either. We got home after midnight, and I feel less like a geezer.

Picture of the Day
Hellboy by Duncan Fegredo, one of my favorite artists.

Thursday, July 12

Lassie: Caged Heat

I went to Home Depot and used the last of my gift card balance to buy 20 feet of chain and three screw clips. I measured out the span of the chain from a gate post and secured the other half to Kempas's collar. She thought we were going walking, and I felt guilty about drastically reducing her stalking grounds so I took off the chain, attached the leash, and walked her. We returned, and I put on the chain when I de-leashed her. She seemed to take it well. I hope to find her still attached to the fence when I feed the pets tonight. I left a note explaining the need for the chain to the woman feeding the pets on the weekends. Kempas can get inside her house, and I moved the water and food to be near her. For what it's worth, the emergency plywood barrier seemed to at least severely curtail her damage to the wooden gate. If she does bust loose of the chains, I can still go back to the plywood option.

Picture of the Day
Multiple Batgirls. The heart races.

Wednesday, July 11

Dog Anger

Kempus is eating the fence again. I noticed some destruction Monday night and a bunch more yesterday. It was so dramatic that the neighbor walked over to make sure I noticed it and addressed it. I have two options that solidified between then and now:

1) Board up the fence so she can't gnaw her way to directionless freedom. I did find a piece of plywood in Your Dad's gardening shed (the one that house the mower and fertilizer), and, after about a half hour of searching, I found the drill and screws to affix it to the gate. This is a stop-gap measure. The entire wooden fence lining the carport will need to be boarded up. I've measured the space and my car's capacity, and I think I figured how what size planks to buy and where to screw them to the fence. But this depends on her not simply chewing through that to get to the fence.

2) Chain the dog. I can buy a length of chain to keep her away from the wooden fence but within reach of her doghouse. I'll just move the food and water. This is cheaper, but it's also a bit cruel. She'll lose the walk of the yard. This option is the more attractive. It's easier, quicker, and, even if she digs under the metal fencing, she won't be able to run about and get hit by a car.

I hate this. This anxiety-sparked destruction has gotten old, and I feel personally responsible for the dog's behavior . I worry that she'll sit and bay endlessly as she pouts about her limited range of motion, but I don't have to hear it, to be frank. The neighbor did offer to drop by the yard and pet and walk Kempus, which is nice of her. She also offered plywood, but that would oblige both me and Your Dad to them, and I can't speak for him to agree to that.

Picture of the Day
A picture of the beginning of the July 4 race. If you squint hard enough, you still can't see me. I'm way in the back.

Monday, July 9

Pet Care and Mysteries

The first day of feeding pets was uneventful except for the dead mouse on the front walk. I scooped it up with two sticks and heaved it into the woods. We drove to their house the back way on Saturday, and yesterday was the first time I had gone by the lake in months. It's down by half. It's looks like a sinkhole gurgled the water away. It's a shock. Our town doesn't have this level of drought. We still regularly see drenched rabbits in the yard.

Some wrestlers were on Larry King and Nancy Grace last night, discussing the Benoit case. The King show was at least an attempt at discussion. King, however, is an old horse that needs to be put out to pasture. The assembled wrestling guests were articulate and likable. The Grace show was high comedy as she did her best to channel hollow outrage while washed-up performers blamed Benoit's employer. One used the alloted time to advertise his wrestling school. The whole thing is still a shock. I never thought I'd see Benoit appear on the cover of People or the Enquirer. And certainly not for these reasons.

EDIT: Forgot to mention that I came home to find Your Sis frantic because our local senile post office failed to deliver three checks for the car, the mortgage and the cell phones. She was greatly displeased. She took care of it all over the phone.

Motion Picture In the News of the Day
While a number of online folks my age where chomping at the bit to see Transformers, a good number of them left the theatre talking instead of a trailer for a film so far called 1-18-08. Online, it's called Cloverfield, and it's produced by the Bad Robot team that made "Alias" and "Lost." It appears to be a Blair Witch-style monster movie. I'm very curious. Rumors are flying around. Is it another Godzilla film? Is it aliens? Is it -- dare we dream-- a big-budget Cthulhu movie featuring H.P. Lovecraft's most famous monster from his early 1900s horror stories?


We stayed home Friday and ate a curry dish. Twas good, and I stuffed myself on it. Your Sis's desk finally arrived from Office Max. It took a week to receive a 48-hour delivery.

I tired to run Saturday and fell apart less than a half mile from the end. I don't understand it. I wasn't beat up from the 5k, and I haven't put on weight. I should have been able to do it.

We took Your Parents to the airport Saturday afternoon after going over their house maintenance and pet car schedules with them. We then went to the big mall so she could buy school and vacation clothes. I discovered hat men's clothing is now randomly sized, depending on the perceived sizes of the target customer. Or everyone else is getting huge. Or every store is copying Abercrombie & Fitch to demand we wear eight to 12 layers. I bought three shirts in Small. SMALL. I haven't worn Small since I went to high school. A huge dinner ensued, possibly to help me fit into large clothes. Your Sis bought -- brace yourself-- a skirt.

I mowed on Sunday after something I never do: laying out in the sun. I grabbed the Sunday NY Times and read until I was rosy. I don't want to go to the July Florida wedding with a farmer tan. Your Sis finished assembling her desk late yesterday. It looks right nice. Slinky, even.

All gum pain is gone, and I'm off the drugs entirely. I'm drinking beer again to make up for that.

Picture of the Day
A still image for the upcoming Where the Wild Things Are film. Looks sharp.