On this date, in 2003, I was in a dark little bar, listening to a local favorite band called Liquid Sand with a group of friends, celebrating our beautiful friend Jenn's birthday. I had been hanging out with Charlie for a little over a month, as friends, and was just on the verge of giving up on hope of it evolving into anything more. At the end of the night, he finally made his move...and well, it was one of my happiest days ever.
Eight years later, I came home today to my cute little family with my daily greeting from my friendly Shitzu, Gizzy, covered in BURRS!
Apparently, when Charlie came home on lunch break, our sweet guy, left 3 fresh presents around the house. While Charlie was cleaning up his mess, he let the dog out to finish up any remaining business.
This is where his adventure began.
When the time came where it was time for Gizmo to come back in, the dog was no where to be found. Sometimes he comes to a patch of driveway at the front of the house, Charlie walks to the front of the house. Yet, no Giz to be found.
Charlie starts sweating bullets when he calls and calls and Gizmo does not respond.
A flash of white fur catches his eye, and there is Gizzy is down by the river, stuck in a bush full of sticker burrs. He can not move and Charlie, now frustrated with his antics, insists that since he got himself into that mess, then he must get himself out. Grudgingly, Gizzy makes his way out of the bush.
He was quite the sight covered in thorny balls. I spent an 45 minutes picking out those stickers when I got home from work. And surprisingly, he did not snap at me once. I felt like I was pulling out thorns out of a lions paw. Gizzy just looked so grateful. I just hope he learned his lesson.
You see, Charlie had no idea what he signed up for 8 years ago with that first kiss...and of course, you know, the adventures will never end.
I leave for California in 3 days. I have signed up to run in The Big Sur marathon. I don't know what I was thinking, to run a marathon only 2 weeks after the MS 150. The most I have ever run is 16 miles. Am I scared? Yeah...you could say that. At the same time...I just read an article about the Hoyt team...the 70 year old father who pushes his 49 year old quadriplegic son in the Boston marathon and in Ironmans. And the documentary I just saw about the middle aged father who ran from Minnesota to Atlanta (My Run). And I am complaining about a measly 26.2 miles? I will suck it up.
I am half watching the "Voice" on TV. Isn't amazing, how a voice can just send chills down the spine? I am typing away on my blog, but some singers make me stop typing mid word from just sheer emotion.
I have a weakness for voices. Milo Hamilton carries me back in time. I was speechless the day I met Gene Peterson, the voice of the Houston Rockets, back in the day. Today, on 94.5, they had a listener win DJ for the day (a.k.a "Doug for a Day") and I was all about his voice. I could listen to that dude all day. I wanted to tell the producer, sorry man, you gotta hire this beautiful voice. Oh, and if you are a man...please do not attempt to sing like in a woman's voice. It is as bad as nails on a chalkboard to me. Seriously.
I will run far away.