Cecilia Beaux

We did it.
We got a new doggie.
She's sleeping at my feet as I write this.

Initially when Fritz died, I wanted another dog.  Almost daily when Mark came home, I would ask, "Did you bring me a German Shepherd puppy?"  To which Mark would reply, "You know you don't want one right now."  I knew.  I wanted Fritz.  All I wanted was my Fritz back.

Anyone reading this knows that I cried for a long time.  As days went by, I cried less and less .... and life went on.

Eventually I came to enjoy just having my two dogs.  Life was easy.  Dolce is spoiled rotten, but she's little, and Georgia O'Keeffe is probably the best dog anyone could ever hope to have.  So life was easy.

However, Georgia O'Keeffe was spending more and more time in the house and not getting the playtime and the exercise and the outdoors that she really should be having.  I may have been OK with my two dogs, but Georgia O'Keeffe really needed a running buddy, and Mark kept reminding me.

We tried Dicey, but she just didn't want to stay.  She kept escaping, and we couldn't keep her.

Mark would check out different avenues to find a dog, but, honestly, my heart wasn't in it.  I had two reasons: (1) Life was easy.  (2) I always felt that when it was right, it would work out.  

About a week or so ago, Mark got an email at work.  A fellow agent and his wife foster dogs.  They take them in and try to find them permanent homes.  His wife found "Bella" on the ARK (Animal Rescue Kingsville) website, and she was scheduled to be euthanized.  These people could NOT allow that .... so they took her.  But they already have four of their own doggies, so they also could not keep her.  The agent sent an email out to all his fellow agents, and Mark forwarded it to me.

My heart was still not in it.

We went to meet "Bella".
(While in the pound, we were told, "Bella" would cower in the corner.  She would not interact with the other dogs.  She was scared of everything.  Her foster parents must have done a great job, because, while still skittish, she is not scared, and she does interact with the other dogs.)
When we met her, we noticed how very sweet she is.  Docile.  Cautious.  My heart was still not in it, but I had to admit, she was a good doggie.  Hard to know anything for sure, but she seems to be about 3.5 months old and a cross between a Labrador and a Rhodesian Ridgeback.  We filled out the adoption paperwork.  She was ours.

We didn't bring her home right away ... but she was ours.

We came home, and decided we needed to find her a name.  She was NOT going to be "Bella".
Georgia O'Keeffe is named for an American painter.  A female painter?  An American painter?  An artist?  The ONLY painters that came to mind for me were "Grandma Moses" and "Frida Kahlo".  I was not about to name my little puppy "Grandma".  That just seemed wrong.  I did like "Frida Kahlo."  Mark did not.  Mark came up with "Dorothea Lange" (photographer, not painter, but she fit the artist theme)  Given my last name, one would think I would jump all over that.  One would be wrong.  I still liked "Frida Kahlo".  Mark still did not.  The search went on.

Just this morning Mark came up with "Cecilia Beaux".  I liked it.  I googled her artwork.  I liked it.

How do you not like someone who paints such beautiful pictures of cats and children?

 

So it was decided, she will be "Cecilia Beaux".

We went to pick her up this afternoon.
First we had to watch the Texan/Raiders game.  Priorities.
But after the game, we went and picked her up.

We brought her home.  She, obviously, is a bit unsure.  She, obviously, is a bit confused.
But all three dogs got along famously from the get-go.  They all took to one another wonderfully.

I think Cecilia Beaux trusts Georgia O'Keeffe the most at this point, but she is warming up to both me and Mark.

Here she is.  Our newest family member.  Miss Cecilia Beaux.

Our no good, horrible, very bad weekend .... or not.

We were leaving here Saturday afternoon once Mark got home from work.  We were taking his truck so that we could take Jenni and Dustin the adirondack chairs Mark had made for them.  We would swing by their house, drop off the chairs, visit a little and spend the night.  The next morning we would get up and head on to Mark's parent's house to help celebrate his father's 80th birthday with most all of his family.

Those were our plans.

But you know what 'they' say about plans.
How do you get God to laugh?  Tell him what your plans are.

So, yeah, those were our plans.

That is NOT how our weekend turned out.

(flashback:  Mark has an 87 GMC pickup which he loves.  Recently Mark had the engine rebuilt.)
(flashback to the flashback:  We met this extremely nice couple who were a bit 'down on their luck'.  They were nice, kind people, and we really wanted to help them.  He fixes engines. He 'fixed' our engine.)

Around Refugio we can tell the engine in the truck is running hot.  The temperature doesn't show it, but we can 'smell' that something is burning and not quite right.  We pull into a gas station/convenience store and buy some water.  Mark lets the truck cool a bit, and he puts fresh water into the radiator.  We press on.  We have extra water.

A little bit before Victoria, the truck starts smelling again.  This time it is also sounding bad.  (OK, so I'm not mechanical.  "Bad" is as good as I've got.)  We are hoping and praying that we can make it into Victoria.  We can't.  Eight miles outside of Victoria, we die.  (I know this, because later the tow truck driver told us.)

Thankfully we do have roadside assistance.  We called and a tow truck was sent to us.  This guy was great.  While the truck was being loaded, Mark called and got us a hotel room.  The tow truck driver, Jaime, decided he would drop us (and our adirondack chairs off at the hotel), and then he would drop our truck off at Firestone.

Not only did Jaime drop us off at the hotel, he carried in one of the chairs for us.  As he was leaving, I remembered that I had two dozen eggs in the truck and asked if he liked eggs.  He has two teenaged boys, he was thrilled to get the eggs.  Mark tried to give him a tip, but he would not accept it.

Mark and the chairs in our hotel room.

I decided I need alcohol.  There was a Mexican restaurant close to the hotel.  Perfect.  Beeritas and fried stuffed avocado.  Perfect.

Got up Sunday morning, called a cab to take us to Firestone, went to breakfast.  We dropped by the front desk of the hotel to explain what was going on with our day.  They weren't there when we, and our chairs, came in the night before.  Jerry told us that he would change our check-out time from 11:00am to 1:00pm.  Thank you, Jerry!  Off we went to Firestone.

The manager at Firestone was also so helpful with us.  Flushed out the radiator.  Had to flush it again.  And again.  But even with all that, something was still not right with the truck.  (remember, I'm not mechanical.  That's the best I got again.)  Mark knew at this point we would not be going to Houston.  The truck may have been able to make it home, but Mark did not want to risk it.  Especially with me along, so he decided to rent a trailer to get the truck home.

We called U-haul.  Here's the fun part:  Victoria had a truck for us, but we had to go to Rockport for the tow trailer, then back to Victoria to pick up our truck then home.  See?  FUN....!!

After we got our U-haul, and before we got the tow trailer, we went back to the hotel to pick up the chairs.

And after all of that .... we made it home.  With our truck.  And the Adirondack chairs.

Now I realize that probably doesn't sound like a good weekend, but we honestly had a good time.  We were not happy the truck broke down.  Not happy we'll have to spend even more money to get it fixed...and RIGHT this time.  Not happy we missed Mark's father's birthday.  Not happy we missed Mark's family.  Not happy we didn't get Jenni and Dustin their chairs.  Not happy we didn't get to visit with Jenni and Dustin .... and Eden.  But the fact is, all of those things did happen, and being upset or angry or mad or sad would not change any of those things.  (Now, in all honesty, Mark did get all of those things ... for about 10 minutes, and then ... he got happy again.)

Mark was also questioning, and I was, to some extent, why, when trying to help someone out, it kicks us in the butt.  He was a bit upset with himself for taking the truck to this guy rather than someone else. But seriously, I love that Mark likes helping others out.  I don't want him to lose that.  I want him to keep helping people.  Even if, on occasion, it does end up hurting us.......

So while our weekend was not what we planned, and not even what we wanted, we made the most of our unexpected adventure.  And we talked.  And we laughed.  And I read Mark my USweekly magazines while he drove, because Mark is all about celebrity news.  (OK, maybe not, but he entertains me.)

...and we enjoyed ourselves.  anyway.