What a looooong strange trip it's been or...

....we loaded up the truck and moved to Beverly!

Swimming pools, movie stars. Richard Gere, Stanley Tucci, Ralph Loren and that evil Martha Stewart are our neighbors. We even have a see ment pond!  Golly gee, Jethro!

It's been such a long time and so much has happened. But nothing really ridiculous to write home about. Or here. I'm stuck on a Delta flight to Denver and have the opportunity and solitude to catch you up. 

We have a new sister for Zazzy and ililiSit!  Her name is Zelda and she's a black Afghan Hound. She's quite lovely and delicate, the opposite of you-know-who. And she's truly a blessing. She came from a tragic circumstance and the inhumane breeder severed her vocal chords so she can't bark. She tries, but nothing much ruminates from her little mouth. Heartbreaking. Fucking assholes. 

But she's the sweetest, gentlest, cuddly-est little girl anyone might dream to have on their couch. She was so frightened when she first arrived 27 April, 2013, that she cowered with her tail between her legs. She had been a kennel dog which means she was in an outdoor run all day then in a cage alone at night. It didn't take her long at all to warm up to me and the first night she gave me little kisses and rolled on her side and gave me gentle taps with her paw that meant she wanted a tummy massage. What a sweetie!

Mr. Zazoo took to her immediately and they sat together on the big bed by that first evening. ililiSit! was too friendly and way to nosey, which is her style, sort of like a New Yorker, and Miss Zelda had to put her in her place. Quite comical actually. Silly lili didn't get it at first. 

So, we're up in Beverly Glen with an Olympic-sized pool and a great fenced-in area around it that has to be a half acre.  When I called them in one day, Zazzy moseyed on over but silli lili wouldn't budge. Zelda herded her back to me! Damn, she's the best. Now lili flies back to me on the first call. 

Speaking of naughtiness, during a brief thaw, the bitches dug their way through the mud and under the heavily- fortressed fence. Sommabitch! It's a wooden 3 tier corral with 1x6's, a 2" square metal fence and chicken wire extended to 7-8 feet, depending on what part of the fence.  

As I've said before, praise Allah for Tagg.com. If it wasn't for Mr. Zazoo and his "mommy, mommy, Timmy fell down the well" bark and my iPhone with said gps tracking app, we all would have been up the proverbial creek sans paddle. I was able to get them home safely where the little bitches were so pooped that they both flopped in lilili's crate for a deep snore. 

So, we had the white boy come to add another 500$ plus labour of 1x6's around the bottom. That pissed off lili to no end. She was damned if she couldn't find a way out. Gopher. 

More about the see-ment pond: it was so cold that the accumulated snow froze on the cover and the bitches had a scating rink. They had a blast running and sliding and silli lili would downward dawg across the pool. Mr. Z was too damn sophisticated to get in on all the fun. He sat elegantly and gazed at the ninnies in disbelief. 

ililiSit!'s a little instigator. At first I thought the black kids were picking on her. This only happened outside when they horse

around. They nip and growl and it looks like a big commotion. I always break it up but one day I silently observed from a close distance. She actually egged them on, the little witch, and there I was, a Mama who felt sorry for her and I had deprived them of their monkeyshines. 

So, you might be thinking, Denver? What the...? Not Istanbul, Palermo, Marrakech or Dubai? Denver? Yes, Denver. As in SophieNo! territory. I'm going to meet her in a few and see why her Mama keeps trying to send her to me for a visit. Little does she know, I have silli Lilli and I'm dropping HER to visit SophieNo! 

Well, not really. I'm picking up 2 Afghan Puppies who have been rescued from deplorable conditions. A mini lili and a mini Zelly. Woohoo!

New babies returning from LGA. More later...I hope. Inshallah. 

Never a dull moment or....

....how silly ilili scared the bejesus out of me yesterday.

I was upstairs talking to Papa via phone. She started to scream and I said bye to him as I almost killed myself going down the circular staircase. She screams sometimes when she hears me talking but this scream was different.

Relentless, heart-wrenching squeals at the top of her little lungs. I saw a leg sticking out limply from her crate. As I got closer, I realised she was stuck in the wiring of the crate by her bottom jaw. And still screaming. Her bottom k9's had prevented her from retracting her little mouth after she decided she couldn't bite the toggle open.

I tried to move her jaw around to remove it but to no avail. And she continued to scream. Talk about powerless? Shit, my baby is in trouble and I can't help her. Such a devastating feeling. One of the most horrible times in my recent life.

I sprinted next door, opened their door and yelled but no one was home. I could hear her screaming. It was Saturday afternoon and I guess everyone was out. In the three seconds I had to get back to my house, I prayed to the powers that be to help my little girl. I didn't hear her any more. Oh God, she passed out, I thought.

As I walked in, I saw she was free. She just sat there on her elbows. I opened the crate and she went into my open arms for a cuddle. Poor silly ilili!

All of her teeth were still intact but it looked like she was getting a fat lip. On closer inspection, she had a little abrasion under her chin which I cleansed with a peroxide soaked cotton pad.

I was more "shook up" than she. I called Papa back and told him what had transpired. "I hope she learned a lesson and won't try that again," was the only comment from the Sage. I hope so too. Poor ililiSit!

Rockin' at the Ritz or...

...how much of this bloody hurricane and the aftermath must I be forced to watch on the telly 'till I crack?

I'm sure by now you've been inundated with the coverage. It was as bad as it was portrayed, in my opinion, and I don't think the authorities or the media hyped it. Dozens of people are dead and there's widespread flooding and devastation in many states.

I saw a mess coming early last week so I made plans to take the Afghans to high ground with generators. Where else but the local Ritz Carlton? Decadent you might think, but they're one of the few hotels in these burbs that accommodates four-legged guests under 50 pounds. Zazoo just passed the weight limit but no one asked. It was crazy-frenetic when we arrived noontime Saturday. It had rained earlier and it was hot and humid when a friend loaded up her car. Zaz, ilili in her crate, several milk crates with dog food and supplies, my wellies and slicker a duffle of my personals and a bag of laptop, iPad, wires and cables all on a trolly, sat in the crowded lobby as I tried to check in. Ilili screamed in monkey voice as I moved away from her. Reception was quick, thanks to ilili, and soon we were all in a lovely room...But it's still a room, not a house.

I was mesmerized by the coverage and saddened by the early reports of devastation but slept an hour or so before dawn on Sunday to anticipate Irene touching down at Coney Island at 9 AM. Well, she did, right on schedule. I went down to the lobby a few times to watch the winds blow and talk to door personnel. No other guests were around. Did they not care? How could one sleep in during an epic storm? The wind ripped past the porte cochere and whistled through the doors when closed. I didn't see any debris or people flying by; just incredible sideways rain that pounded the air.

Exhausted as I was, I had to experience it live. Incredible! It's hard to put into words...the swirl of the wind moving the rain. The rain pelting sideways. The young trees near the hotel not swaying but being forcibly pushed to breaking point as their tops went horizontal. I didn't dare venture out. Even when the rain let up a bit. Some brave retriever owners, men, of course, braved the elements with a dumb look, a shrug, and, "he has to go." The hell he does. I brought wee wee pads. "Common sense ain't so common," as the old Jewish man once said.

When it got down to a dull roar I took Mr. Zazoo out for a round the block. That didn't happen. The winds were still too strong, so he piddled in front of the building on their precious little flowers. Oh, well. He wanted to be brave but the wind pushed us back.

Here are some sea grass that usually point to the heavens.  

we tried again a bit later.  I was a little scared as we turned a bend and I felt my feet trying to move forward, but I wasn't moving.  Either was he as I held his collar so we would stay together if one of us was swept away.  I was that frightened.  Now I laugh about it, but it was scary.

Zazzy's new sister, ilili, or how to kiss butt...

...and make new friends. We've recently had an addition to our small family! Her name is Ilili, which is Lebanese for "tell me". Apropos coz this baby Afghan Hound is quote vocal. She talks, whines and howls just like a baby Afghan usually does. And she screams...it sounds like she is being murdered slowly when she's placed in her crate and shits herself. Poor little thing.

So, if you know me, you know I couldn't have that, so I've been walking or dragging her along when I march Zazoo. It's comical because Zaz walks like such an elegant gentleman and then dragged behind us is this silly belligerent puppy. I hope no one calls SPCA about me.

She's lovely and just eight weeks now so she misses her mama and her litter-mates. She was happy to meet Zazoo and he reciprocated but she is a bit needy for his taste. The first night, she cuddled up to me to sleep but soon I found her nestled into Zazoo. Then I was able to get this shot as they lounged on the couch during a rainy afternoon.

When he's a good boy...

Two points if you can find his head.  Dom, my Father, calls him a bum.  Now, I can see why.  Couch Afghan?