For My Little Old Man 4/1/95 - 6/17/11 RIP Boogie Mann

Lost in the Wild
Dog Days Column – by Boogie Mann for the Twisted Muse Blog Letter

I know my pack (family). I know my den (my way home). I know my territory (neighborhood). Maybe I’m getting a little high in age (older than dirt) but I know my way around (I am confident of my whereabouts at all times). On a normal day in paradise I was walking along minding my own business when a woman shot out from her den (domicile) and attacked me (chased me out of her yard).

It was starting to get dark (around 8-8:30pm CST) on the Sacred Day when there is peace in the household (Sunday when the kids aren’t home until late). The pack was at play and I was patrolling our territorial borders (pissing on everything I could find) as it is my job to protect the pack from any intruders (bark mindlessly at other dogs, people, and anything that moves quite frankly, for no particular reason other than to make myself feel useful). There I was in familiar territory (a place I hadn’t been in a long time) heading home for the night. I came upon many large wooden slats pressed together (a fenced in backyard), an obstacle I had not encountered before (who put this thing here?).

I was in her backyard but only passing through (walking wherever the hell I pleased) when she pounced on me (no, I didn’t see her coming).Now I admit I am not as keenly sensed as I was in my youth (I ain’t got it all in the head no more), yet my sense of surroundings was still sharp (I thought I still had my shit together). I soon found myself headed for home but there were a few more obstacles in my way that I had not encountered before this day (she scared the living daylights out of me and I got turned around). As she drew closer, I picked up speed leaving her far behind (so I ran like hell).

After this unexpected encounter I returned to marking territory (I got back to business) and started home again. It was then that I realized my path was altered (I was lost). More and more time went by as I made my way around the obstacles (I was getting most lost by the minute), which seemed to pop up out of nowhere (I had no idea where the hell I was now). However, being the steadfast guard dog that I am (I got scared) I continued in the direction of Home Sweet Home (I just wanted to be home).

Wandering in the wild I had much time to think (the sun was going down and I was getting deeper and deeper into the woods). I thought about my warm beds (everywhere I squeezed in to sleep) and my odd but loving alpha female (my owner). I was growing quite tired as I have never walked so long before in my life (my owner was a lazy bitch, sometimes). I continued in every confidence that she would find me any minute and take me home (she better come save my ass).The more time that went by, the longer I walked. These trees seemed endless (where the hell am I?) and darkness was upon me.

I curled up on the cold hard twigs and tried to sleep. The obtusely large forest beasts were about (the deer scared me). At dusk they appear from deep in the forest (well no, I didn’t see them coming either), treading lightly, moving carefully. Here in the thicket of their domain they strode about with strength, force, and agility (deer are some big mutha’s). I barked endlessly, keeping the beasts at bay with my show of force (barking and whining) and kept watch throughout the night until I collapsed of exhaustion (I fell asleep, I’m old what do you expect?)…

…been wandering for days (three days, two nights) and have lost the scent of home. The trees look alike and the beasts in the wood have gone and left me alone. I hear the sounds of humans here and there but none of them are Mine. I wonder if I will ever find my pack again. I just know if I keep looking, I will find them because they need me as much as I need them.

My poor boy was brought home to us by a neighbor that lived near a wooded area off of Green Hills Road up near where we live. She told me that same morning, April 12, 2011, that she had seen a small dog wandering around in the woods near her home off Greensboro. Now, had I thought at all about where Green Hills Road was in proximity to us, I would have figured it out much sooner, although word had come to me through our Veterinarians Office that a small schnauzer had been found the day before. It was not My schnauzer but a puppy a woman had lost up the street from the woman who found the puppy lived. (Hope you followed that.)

Anyway, at around 6:30PM this neighbor whose name I Still Don't Know, drove into my driveway and asked me to come and see if this was my dog. She opened the back door and my heart was pounding, I had prayed all the way from the front door to this point that it was my pretty boy. There was a smallish, trembling and dazed looking dog standing on the back seat's floor. He had on a red harness she had used to lure him out of the forest.

So, to make an even longer story as short as possible (as if), I got my little old man back the evening before my 40th Birthday on April 13th. Yay me! To my dismay and surprise, I had to make "the decision" to end my precious Furry Child's life on June 17, 2011. He had a large cancerous tumor, which was Not painful or malignant, however it Had grown so enormous for his little body that it broke through his skin and continued to Grow OUTSIDE of his body! It's true that fact is always stranger than fiction, indeed.

The afternoon of June 17th Boogie tripped going down the wooden patio stairs and created a "break" between the tumor and his body, and it bled profusely. What's worse is my Children (6 & 9) saw it happen and watched him the whole time. The tumor had gotten so Heavy, Boogie could not walk well anymore, and that was Aside from the arthritis he already has in both his back legs...so, it was an extremely difficult decision to make and I had been thinking about it after 2 Veterinarians told me there was literally nothing they could do to help him for one reason or another.

So, with an enormously heavy heart, I kissed him on his soft little snout and said, "I'm sorry, boy." My husband carried him out to the Van wrapped in a towel as the blood fell down his leg, and my 6 yr.old daughter followed them out. He took Boogie to the Vet's office, walked into the back examination area and set him down on the table. He requested to have him put to sleep. Signed the papers and let my daughter pet him before leaving the room...he couldn't stay to watch. I felt comforted by that.

I had raised Boogie from the Runt of the litter until that day and he was Very Much a part of our family. He was My Furry Child (on a photo album cover for pets), my "Mann," my first "Son," my only "Child" for 8 years before I had my 9 yr.old son. My Beloved Companion, my absolute most loyal friend, protector, confidant, and sidekick.

I will never forget my man, Boogie Mann. The one I dubbed "Pretty Boy," my little hairy ass dog, my grumpy little old man. My closest friends and family won't soon forget his annoyingly sharp bark or all the jokes I made about him being "My Man" and all the amusing commentary I made on his behalf about calling me his bitch. Don't ask, LOL. It's been just over a week and the guilt killed me the first week. The last two days have gotten better. My daughter is still asking about him and says that she misses him a Lot. I still cry when I think of him and how he might still be alive had I TRIED harder? Looked longer? Gotten a 3rd or 4th opinion on any surgical options? I don't know...but it will be a minute before we get another dog, which of course, my kiddos wanted the same Day! Miss Diva wants a puppy named Emma 0.o Oh-kay

Now is a most opportune time to teach my young kids about death, and life, and grieving properly to get through these tough times. It is Extremely Important to allow yourself time to Grieve the loss of your pet, especially if you are as close to them as I am :) Obviously Boogie was an integral part of my family, our home, and our lives in general. We will feel his loss greatly, but we will be thankful that we had the greatest pet a family could love. Rest in Peace boy. We miss you.

-emg-

First A Little Thank You, Too!

OK, so this was left as a "invisibo" comment to the Twisted Muse and my Last Post:

To: emngg@yahoo.com
stacy has left a new comment on your post "Pissed Off at NKC Suburbian Life":

This is my Good luck that I found your post which is according to my search and topic, I think you are a great blogger, thanks for helping me outta my problem..
Dissertation Abstract Help

Posted by stacy to Southwest High School: Twisted Muse at April 8, 2011 1:09 AM

http://www.dissertationwritings.co.uk/dissertation_abstract_help.htm

You Are Very Welcome, Stacy - whoever you are and wherever you are. I hope you get high scores and all that jazz. Thanks so much for reading the Twisted Muse.

For my regular readers, and especially my Alumni and valued new FB friends - I'll get back on track here, shortly. This was emailed to me (no duh!) and I had to share it with you because no one else ever comments! lmfao - except for my peeps on FB. Loves ya'll

*E*

AND NOW ON WITH THE SHOW!! First Off, that Boogie Column will be my next post. Yay us! Boogie is hard at work tapping out his own harrowing experience in the wilderness. There is a lesson there for All of us who sometimes get Lost in Life.....so stay tuned to the Twisted Muse. You never know what will come next.

~0~

Pissed Off at NKC Suburbian Life

Okay, I know it's been a whole year since I've posted. Didja miss me? I haven't been able to check my email accounts in ages, of which I have thousands of emails I'm sure. My Facebook Page is a mess and deserted of any postings from me...and I do apologize for my negligence. Especially to my classmates of SWHS Class of '89, who all this started for and why (to find more classmates for our Reunions). Hehehe, I guess Boogie Mann didn't have much to say last year, eh? Don't worry, he's still with us and has his tude intact...

So, I'm hopping "mad" with life up here in suburbia. Wanna know why? You know I'm going to tell you... Today I got stuck in the 7" of snow out on the street, right at the end of my driveway! The extra snow and ice plowed to the side of our cul-de-sac in front of our driveway got my Honda Odyssey hung up on a snowbank. You think that's funny? Wait till you hear the rest...perhaps I should change our name to the Twisted Soap Box, hmm could be another new column, ya think?

Anyway, I'm stuck outside our house, not even In our driveway yet, sideways across the roadway. Blocking the only street in and out of our cul-de-sac (duh!). Have you got a good mental image going yet? Blue van, in the street, stuck on snow bank. So, I turn off the van, go inside, get the shovel and start digging my way out. First attempt didn't help at all. I sit in the van warming up without the heater on, and try again. Second attempt I've got her rockin' now. No problem right? I'm sure to get out soon...WRONG.

I call my husband to make sure he knows I'm stuck and it's all his fault for not shoveling the driveway yesterday when he got home from work LIKE HE SAID he would. Not only did he dissapoint the kiddos by not going outside with them but I got stuck, too. No, the depressed wife does not go outside and play in the snow with the kiddos...that's a different entry. Let's stick to one at a time, please.

Back up; when I first got stuck I noticed my neighbor (another SAHM) saw me stuck and decided to shovel the end of her driveway of the snow plow's built up snowbank. Okay, so I'm sitting there stuck and slowly shifting from Drive to Reverse, from 1st gear to Reverse, and back again, while NO ONE so much as looks out their window at this spectacle in their neighborhood. We have plenty of SAHM's in this neighborhood, some retired couples, and college folks, too. NO ONE HELPED ME.

I sit in the van, warming up again, going for a third try is all I can do...then the recycling truck comes along. Oh crap! They have to get through now what? They pause and see my predicament, continue down to the next cul-de-sac, come back and low and behold Two MEXICANS walk up to me and offer to push the van backward to get me out. (insert victorious presentation music here) Remember, my Spanish is rusty to put it politely but I'm sure they assumed I was a white lady in this neighborhood until of course, I rolled down the slightly tinted window.

Needless to say, I had the van rocking and they gave me the forward shove I needed to get me unstuck. I LOVE THE WORKING CLASS MEXICAN MAN!! I should have married one, I wanted to, I tried to find one, honest Papa, I did try. Hell, I'd still leave my husband if I found a Decent, hard working Mexican, Latino, Hispanic man who would take care of me and my babies who didn't have and addiction to drinking, smoking, or cheating! NO, I wouldn't...but I'd think about it...anyway

I went forward, one man went back to the truck (who was the more handsome of the two) and the other stayed there helping me get out of the street. I continued to go back and forth until I had climbed onto the driveway, at least. My neighbor went by who was just WAITING for me to Move my Hung Up vehicle out of her way...how, I don't know until the two Most Wonderful Men in the World walked up to the van, offering their assistance...

Now you know that life in suburbia is NOT all it's cracked up to be. Those great and overly friendly neighbors you think you have don't lift a finger to help you. Even though I'M THE ONE who throws salt OUT into the STREET in front of our driveways and up our hilled street to melt the ICE so that we AND OUR NEIGHBORS can get in and out of our cul-de-sac. There was nothing wrong with the tires, mind you. It was the packed snow that the underside of the van was hung up on. I dug as much as I could out from under our light blue Odyssey and might still be out there now, instead of writing about it. LOL - well, I hope I've inspired you to be a more Watchful neighbor and consider your neighbors as you would like to be considered.

Until next time kids, farewell and don't try this at home! Love and Laughter to you All, *E*