First Night Without Power

While the kids were scrambling around the house searching for, then gathering and lighting candles and flashlights, I called Roanoke County police to let them know there was a tree and pole down, blocking the road. I stressed the importance of getting some sort of road block sign up as there were electrical cables in the snow, cars were still trying to get up the hill, and one vehicle had wires draped across it. You can see the abandoned car's lights on the left.

Next I called Appalachian Power to let them know what was going on. My last call was to my husband. The day before he had fired up the generator and discovered it wasn't working. We had never used it, but decided last year to buy one, "just in case." Luckily for us he fixed it that very morning, but it was still at the shop. Everything was fine in Salem, but once I told him what was going on in the County he quickly closed the shop and loaded the generator.

It just so happened that many of my Christmas gifts to the family was based upon dealing with a "disaster." Oh, how they laughed at me when they opened their tarps, oil lanterns, car power chargers, flashlights, batteries, hand warmers, blankets, and gas cans. Who was laughing now???

As I assessed the situation outside, a neighbor told me it was just our side of the street that was left without power. One by one I heard the generators fire up all around me. I also heard the whirring of wheels as cars realized they could not get up the hill and attempted to make a U-turn on the ice. You would think they would have noticed one vehicle already stranded with wires on top of it. But they didn't.

It took a couple of hours before the Fire Dept. showed up and placed orange cones at the bottom of the hill, the top of the hill, and at the two streets that fed into the blocked road. I figured we would be a top priority, not only because there were wires everywhere, but the road was blocked and there was the elementary school at the foot of the hill. My daughter then reminded me that Monday was a holiday, and Friday the County schools had been already called closed. I didn't know about Bella, as she was confused by the darkness and scurrying, but I figured we humans would be okay and could handle a couple of days without power.

My husband finally made it home after stopping at the supermarket for survival supplies -- soda, wine and matches. The generator was not an industrial strength one, but would be good enough to supply us with some lights and a television. We couldn't hook it up to the heater as that went through our fuse box. He and my son went to work on getting it running. 75-foot industrial orange-colored extension cords snaked throughout the house. Eureka! It worked!

The next order of business was trying to save what food we could in the freezer and refrigerator. We got a couple of coolers out of the shed and filled it up with all the ice from the freezer. My one command was, "Save the Breakstone Butter!" I still had three tubs that my brother had brought down from Brooklyn and no way was I losing that. We hoped that as long as we didn't open up the freezer or fridge the stuff would last until morning, at which time my husband would pack it up and bring it to the shop's refrigerator.

Meanwhile, the fallen tree was creating a hazard as folks would go up to it to see what a fallen tree looks like. If I happened to be outside grabbing a smoke and I saw someone getting too close I would warn them about the wires. Frankly, I didn't know if they were live or what, but I didn't want to see anyone stepping on one to find out. I noticed someone had even buried a big jug of brown liquid in the snow next to my mailbox. I didn't know what the heck it was -- gas, apple pie, iced tea? I left it there in case they returned to gaze some more at the fallen tree.

I was getting cold and tired of being the sheriff of Oak Grove so I didn't venture outdoors any more. We all settled down to watch the latest Harry Potter DVD, but I fell asleep. When I went into bed I couldn't stand the sound of the generator outside and asked my husband to make sure it was shut off when they finished. There was no reason to keep it on while we slept. The house wasn't that cold as the heat had been running all day so we got extra blankets and everyone slept in their own rooms. Bella warmed my feet. I figured we could handle one night of this.

BOOM! and Then Blackness

On Thursday I had just taken three pans out of the oven when I noticed my cell-phone had one bar. As the kids sat down for dinner I said, "Check your phones. Make sure you have enough bars. I better charge mine because I think we're going to lose power." The moment I finished saying that we heard a large "BOOM!" and then blackness. Another large crackling sound immediately followed causing my son to say, "That's a gunshot." So what does he do? He runs outside to see what's going on. This is what he found...

To give you a better daylight view, this was the scene the following morning:

One of the large pine trees in the park across the street fell down taking the power lines, the electric pole in my yard, which snapped like a toothpick, and dislodged, bent and broke my rooftop pole, along with it.

The wires were hanging on my house and spread across the driveway, and up and down the street. As soon as my son reported the dangling wires, the first thing I did was navigate down the darkened basement stairs with my tiny flashlight and switch off the main electricity from the fuse box. Even though we had no power I just felt like this was something I should do that. I don't know why.

Now, it's dark when this happening, and as you can see from the first shot, there is ice and snow on the road and it's still coming down. Well, at the very moment this snapping of the wires occurs, a car is trying to make it up my hill. If I had a penny for every vehicle who tries to get up that hill in a storm and wipes out, I'd be rich! Not only does this vehicle wipe out, but the wires fall on top of her car.

My son sees the woman come out of her car and goes over to help her, but she totally ignores him. She's crying on her cellphone, as she tries to walk up the hill through the wires, and won't even acknowledge that the boy is standing out there with no coat on offering her his arm to help her navigate the wires that she doesn't see! He makes sure she clears the danger zone before coming back in the house.

She was the first of many who made us realize sometimes the worst comes out in people during a crisis.

To be continued...I've got a lot of laundry to do.

Update on Bella

I'm starting to worry that Bella is permanently mentally scarred after her horrible grooming experience. It's been over five days and her actions have not improved and her behavior has actually gotten worse.

She pretty much prefers to stay on soft surfaces and will run like a flash to get from my bed, to her bed, to the couch, to the chaise, to her pillow, and makes a flying leap to get onto them. It's like she's trying to get to her destination before her tail gets there. As soon as her tail flicks her backside she turns around as if someone is touching her, and then tries to grab it. I keep telling her, "That's your tail silly!" but she's not "getting it."

She cries to be picked up and wants to be carried from place to place. She won't eat her food unless the bowl is placed on her chaise. Only then will she eat it as she's sitting on the chaise. Same with her water bowl. She won't play fetch. And that was her favorite thing in the world to do. She won't wake up the kids as she's done every single morning. That was her second favorite thing in the world to do.

I've spoken with the vet who said she's never heard of a dog being freaked out by her tail hitting bare flesh and thinks it's more likely she's probably irritated from razor burn. Or, the groomer nicked her somewhere. The vet said the only thing to do for her is give her a half Benadryl, but there was nothing I could put on her to soothe her skin.

When I called the groomer, Biscuits & Bubbles, to ask what the hell happened there, I was told she was "fine when she left." I asked what the hell they were thinking by shaving her to the bare skin halfway down her back and on her underside and on portions of her legs. They said it was a "sanitary cut" and that all "those dogs" get it. Huh? No, she did not get that the last time, and I asked for a puppy cut, not a "sanitary" one. I asked if she fell off the table onto her head or something. No. Since their policy is that the dogs "play" rather than be caged while they await their groom, I even asked if my baby was defiled. Her privates looked raw to me as if she could have been raped or if the razor nicked them. They thought that was funny. I didn't. They had no answers for me, nor an apology, and the girl that groomed her said I could put Cortaid on her to speed up the healing. Are they that clueless? Cortaid cannot be ingested and Bella would lick it right off!

I've heard dogs can't be "spiteful" but two things happened yesterday that makes me wonder. Bella's been very aggressive with my husband, and when he was teasing her with one of her toys, she jumped on his lap and peed on him! She's never done that before. And then when he went to go into bed later on he found a dump on his side of the bed. She has never done that either! He's the one that brought her to the groomer and I wonder if that's her way of getting back at him.

Meanwhile I'm at wit's end trying to figure out what to do to help her. I tried wrapping gauze around her tail and taping it so that it wouldn't hit her. She ripped it right off. I fear she's developing behavior that I will not be able to undo. She was "quirky" to begin with, but now she's downright disturbed. The only time she's "normal" is when she's lying in bed next to me. I think I'm going to go to the pet store later and see if there's something natural I can use on her, or maybe there's some sort of clothing or something I can wrap her backside in. Any suggestions would be most welcome.

Bella Gets Groomed

Bella went to the groomer yesterday. See that little yellow bow in her hair? That lasted about ten minutes.

From the moment she returned home, Bella kept rubbing her backside on the bedspread, couch, chaise, grass, and leaves. When she would walk, she would suddenly stop and look to her right backside as if something had bit her, or, something had touched her. I checked her thoroughly and didn't see anything. I thought perhaps it's her tail touching her and she doesn't realize it. Could she be that oblivious?

The groomers seemed to have had a heavy hand with the razor. Rather than comb out the matty hair on her hindquarters, they opted to give a poodle shave, right down to the bare skin. I had asked for the "puppy cut" but I doubt a scissor was used anywhere on her. Other than being shaved on her belly for her operation, this is the first time she has no fur, in a couple of places, especially on her backside. She doesn't seem to like it.

She has been laying around and not her usual self. When I crinkle a paper wrapping, she doesn't come running to see what I have. When I eat, she's not at my feet hoping I'll drop something. Her dog food sat all morning without even being sniffed. Very unusual.

The more I watched her, the more I thought, "I think it is her tail hitting her bare flesh and tickling her." I tried to stop the tail from grazing her backside by first braiding the extra fur and then securing it with the rubber band bow she had on top of her head. I think it would have worked had she not ripped it out immediately. I tried three times. After the third time when she tried to eat the bow, I gave up.

Worried about her not eating, dog food that is, I carried her to her dish. As she stood there, I held her tail off of her, and she finally began to eat. This is what you have to do when you have a special dog. As soon as I dropped it, she'd stop and begin acting skittishly again. As she was eating I noticed a black dot on her. I thought I saw it move, so with my left hand holding the tail up, I took my right hand and moved the little bit of fur left on her back to see if I did indeed see something. Sure enough, there was a teeny tiny tick! Luckily it hadn't attached to her, so I grabbed it with my nails and crushed it in the garbage disposal.

The weird thing is that today is the first time I have ever put a flea and tick collar on her. She has been on the very expensive monthly Trelexis, which does not even repel or kill ticks. I found that out a couple of months ago when she had to have a tick removed by the vet.  Although I had one pill left, something told me to put the collar on her instead. It was probably the warm weather and the possum, squirrel, chipmunk, cat, and skunk that have visited her yard lately. I'm sure they all carry fleas and ticks. I even argued with my husband this morning because he was against me using the collar, saying she was too young. I told him not to worry as it was a puppy flea collar and she was well above the weight requirements. I think the tick didn't attach to her because of the collar. Guess who was right again?

Anyway, I thought maybe that's why she was acting weird...she had a tick stuck to her. But, after removal of the tick and a thorough examination to make sure there are no others on her, she is still acting weird. I hope nothing too traumatic happened yesterday, and that it's just her not realizing it's her tail touching her.

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How Smart is Your Dog?

I didn't need a book to tell me that my Malti-Zhu is not considered one of the brightest dogs around, but it did reinforce what I had already discovered -- Corgis are smart and Shih-Tzu's, not so much. My daughter had given me "Understanding Your Dog" for Christmas which I found to be very informative. Although I was using it as research for an upcoming story, I also found that our newest edition to the family behaves pretty much the way the book says she'd behave. Well, they didn't specifically mention Malti-Zhu's, but did mention Shih-Tzu's, which is a breed in the bottom 10 of intelligence.

According to the book, "Breeds in the bottom 10 often require up to 100 repetitions to understand a new command and will obey a known cue the first time it is given only 25% of the time. Even if they know how to sit, they may need to hear the word four or five times before they plop their rear ends down." Now, I didn't know this, but can attest to the truth of it. When I take Bella out I say about 15-xxx times, "Go ahead, go do it, be good girl, c'mon, do it, do it, do it! You want a treat? Then you have to make pee-pee. C'mon, do it, do it, do it." Eventually she does "do it" all the while looking at me and lifting her leg. Yes, she is a female, but she lifts her leg. When she's done she'll come running, "Look what I did, lookie at me, aren't you proud, now where's that freaking treat?"

The book mentioned a few ways to figure our how smart your own dog is:

"The Towel Test" -- When your dog is lying down, drape a large bath towel over his head and time how long it takes for him to lose the towel. Smart dogs master this in less than 15 seconds while slow learners can take more than 30 seconds. I tried it with Bella. If I didn't physically remove the towel, she would still be under it.

"The Bucket Test" -- Line up three lightweight buckets. Show your dog his favorite treat and let him watch you place it under one of the buckets. Divert his attention away from the buckets for a few seconds and then ask him to find it. A smart dog makes a beeline for the correct bucket while slow learners may knock over the other two before finally finding the prize. I tried it with Bella. She didn't knock over any of the buckets and began looking for the treat in another room! So, I tried it again without the "distraction" part. Still, she couldn't find the treat until her back leg accidentally knocked over the correct one.

"The Leash Test" -- Pick a time that you do not customarily walk your dog. Without saying anything, pick up the leash and your house keys in full view of the dog. A smart dog associates the leash and keys with a walk and becomes excited at the prospect of going out. A not so bright one will need to hear "Want to go for a walk" before jumping for joy. I tried it with Bella. Fail, but in all fairness that's because Bella has never gone for a walk on the leash. Why? Because she freezes in whatever position she's in when I put one on her. It's like her feet are cemented in the ground. I can tempt her with treats, balls, toys, even paper towel rolls, and she will not budge. Clearly, if she moves with the leash on her she will die immediately.

Now, there is absolutely nothing wrong with having a dumb dog. I love my dumb dog because the one thing she "gets" besides whacking her empty dog dish against the wall or my head to tell me she's hungry, even if it's the middle of the night, is how to show love, which is way more important than the number of brain cells she possesses. Besides a bottle of wine, there is nothing that calms me down more than hugging that little baby girl or being smothered with her kisses.

When my daughter (who is second in line in Bella's world) is feeling down, all she needs to do is pick up Bella, "this little girl makes me feel so much better."

My husband is third in line, and Bella gets all crazy and happy when he comes through the door...her chew toy is home! Even if he goes out to just throw garbage and comes right back in, it's like he's been gone for days. "You're back! I've been waiting so long! Let me show you how much I love you...give me that hand so I can chew on it!"

Unfortunately for my son, Bella still thinks he is an evil stranger that comes to our house every evening with the sole purpose of killing mommy. "Who are you? Get out of here! What is that thing on your chin? You must be the biggest dog ever. I'm going to bark at you and scare you until you look at me, then I will hide behind mommy. A treat? You think I'm taking a treat from you? Do you think I was born yesterday?! Clearly, you're trying to poison me!!! Wait..is that a French fry you're eating? Sure, I'll take that, and another one, and another one. What? There's no more??? Who are you? Why are you here? You're going to kill mommmy!!!!"

At least she knows what "It's bath time Bella!" means...

Well, sorta...

Service is Key

It seems like every other day I hear about a local business going under. Cue all the folks bemoaning the loss of their favorite restaurant/store/business, etc. coupled by the bemoaning of others who have never visited said establishment, but are "sad" they are now unable to. The first thought that pops to mind is, "Well, maybe if you had frequented said business they wouldn't be going under." I'll place some of the blame on the public, whose loyalty is nowhere that of my dog's, but not all the blame rests with them.

Far too often in an attempt to cut costs and boost profits the wrong method is used by the business. For instance, if your museum is failing because of low attendance, you do not raise the admission price. If your restaurant is suffering from lack of customers, you should not raise the prices, and, at the same time, substitute inferior products while slashing portion sizes. Besides blaming the bad economy, and I realize it does suck, maybe the owners should also look to their service staff who may be driving folks away. I know a couple of joints I will no longer eat at, not because of their food, but because of how slooooooow and incompetent their staff can be.

Service is key. Recently I decided to no longer advertise with a local company that has had my business for fifteen years. Why? Besides the medium probably not being that effective anyway, I based my decision on the lack of service I have received. I gave them a chance last year, even though I was going to opt out then because I thought the direction they were going was ridiculous. But, my loyalty allowed me to listen to the salesperson's plea. I gave in. Like my dog, I am loyal.

We spoke about the ad I would take, and I reiterated how I was not interested in a "profile." A picture of me, along with the name of the church I attend (I rarely attend anywhere), the charities I support (I don't need to btoot my own horn), how long I've lived here, blah, blah, blah, is not going to bring me business. And if that's what a client wants to know before coming to my business, then frankly, I don't need them as a client. So, with that in mind I handed over my business card and said all I wanted was an ad of that. No problem.

When I finally received a proof it was a big problem. It wasn't what I wanted. I was assured it would be fixed, and it was. The next problem arose when delivery came around. My "ad" wasn't placed under the proper heading, probably because the proper heading had been eliminated, and a bunch of companies were lumped under a more generic title. My "ad" was at the back of the "barrage" of other companies, mostly profiles. It's been my experience over the last 15 years, and come to think of it, my whole life, that the letter "A" is at the beginning of the alphabet, not at the end. Apparently, alphabetizing was no longer being utilized in said book. Needless to say, I was disappointed. I thought the book looked amateurish, and worse, was not useful to a potential customer.

I called the salesperson. That was back in July or August. Well, I finally heard from her, two days ago, via email to let me know that "it's that time of the year again to renew." She began the email with "I think I owe you an apology as I do recall receiving a message a bit ago about the xxxxx, receiving the copy and not being pleased with something. If you'd like to buzz me next Monday afternoon or Tuesday, I'll be available to review the concerns." Oh, you think you owe me an apology?

The rest of the email was spent trying to get me to buy more ads, as well as a new "offering" to have them design a website for me, so I can spend even more money on their digital advertising. Guess what? Ummm, no. I'm not spending another penny with you. In fact, I'm not returning your email or your phone calls. Fifteen years should have stood for something, but apparently you don't give a shit about me or my business, so why I should I give a shit about yours?

So there you have it. Would it have made a difference if the salesperson returned my call 6 months ago? Maybe it would have. Service is key, and without it, you don't have me.

My Favorite Gift

I started off the new year the best way...with a phone call from a high school friend. I haven't spoken to Irene in a while, but I knew who she was at the first hello. From that point on, it was like we had just hung out yesterday. That's the beauty of being a Brooklyn-bred girl, the passage of time has little do with the original friendship bond. No matter how many years pass between us, no time has passed at all.

It doesn't matter that we've both been divorced a couple of times, had some kids, moved from New York to different states -- she Jersey, me Virginia -- and lost our girlie figures. Once two friends from Brooklyn reconnect, it's like we've stood still in time. Irene and I are still the seniors in New Utrecht High School,  only now we have grown-up problems, not boy problems.

After we "tsked tsked" about our and our loved ones various poor medical conditions, we came to the "what are you doing now?" stage. When I told her I had published two books, she asked if one of them was my Shoe Story. "My Shoe Story? "Yea, the story you said you were going to write for a children's book. I loved that story. You used to tell me it all the time."

Every now and then I get bits and flashes of past ideas, but my memory is pretty much fried. I have to depend on the kindness of others to fill in the gaping holes of my past. Sometimes, it's not pretty. Anyway, as my friend filled me in on the details of My Shoe Story, I suddenly remembered it. Holy shit, how could I have forgotten it? It is a great story.

Maybe I'll see Irene the next time I'm in Brooklyn when she's also there looking in on her mom. I hope so. We could reminisce about the time we were on the bike path near the Verrazano Bridge and stumbled upon the Saturday Night Fever shoot. How silly we acted as we tried to get into the shot. Whose idea was it to jump the benches? Probably mine.

And, I really want to thank and hug her for remembering My Shoe Story. What a great gift. No offense to anyone who reads this, and who gave me a gift, but, this was my favorite one.