Corn Dog

I remember being a little girl, practicing my latest tap routine in my Meamama's (that's what I called my maternal grandmother) kitchen and asking her to join in. Sometimes she would. Other times she would tell me that her corns were hurting her, and she wouldn't. Back then I wasn't sure what she meant. Were these imaginary friends shaped as corn cobs? Is that what she called her toes? Did her false teeth hurt? I really didn't know and I didn't bother to ask.

For the last six months, Seka has been hobbling around as a pesky little pebble grew on her back right pad. For the most part it didn't bother her while she ran in the soft grass in the back yard or walked around on the carpeted areas of the house. But if we walked on the concrete during our morning walks, route was cut very short and the whole event involved more hopping on three legs than actual walking. All of these are classic signs of corns, so after some close inspection, my suspicions were confirmed. It wasn't big and I tried to keep it soft by rubbing Bag Balm on it nightly, but the darn thing took on a life of its own and as of last week, it was nearly the size of the entire pad.


Handsome Dr. Slappy told me to get out the emery board and sand down the corn as it grew to keep it flush with the pad, which we've done. But last week, while I put off house work, I noticed that the darn corn was starting to peel off. In fact, I could run the edge of the tweezers around half of the circumference of the corn. She's let me pick at it and pick at it and it gets a little looser every day, but I'm a little concerned about picking it off completely. So, I'm trying to lift it off a little bit every day so it will heal underneath and continue to loosen up.

She definitely doesn't like me messing with her toe, but she tolerates it. She hasn't come right out and turned down an offer to tap dance with me yet, but I really don't want to wait until its hurting her so badly that she declines any potential future invitations.

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

The holidays offer a lot of fun traditions. Shopping. Presents. Consuming more sweets in a weeks time than you have all year. It's all a part of December that most everyone looks forward to, myself included. But for me, the best part of the holiday is making the daily trip to the mailbox, ignoring the bills and opening our holiday cards.

Now pretty much everybody we know has children (the two-legged kind). So, we get a lot of photo cards. Pictures of adorable kids, dressed in holiday finery, posed perfectly for the camera. Then you have the family group shots, where they are all dressed similarly, or at least they are color coordinated. And because dad had to be in the shot, the dress is casual.

My favorite shot this year is from our friends Adam and Kathy's son Simon. He looks like a child model. It helps when mommy is a photographer, but WOW! Check out that little bum!

No one has totally embarrassed themselves... yet. No one dressed up like the Grinch or an entire family in reindeer antlers, but it's bound to happen. There's still a couple of days left until the 25th. I'm sure they will all get a laugh out of the e-card they will get from our family on Christmas, which will include complete and total greyhound degradation. I'm just not sure what pose to go for. I continue to take lots of shots every day because I can't get the light right inside the house. I hope Santa isn't a greyhound. I'm sure he would think I've been very naughty forcing GBD to dress up like a deer and an elf (not to mention the naked photos people across the world will soon be hanging on their walls). Don't worry, she got plenty of treats in the process. Not like she helped clean the house or anything.

Oh, in the good news category. Charlotte was adopted this weekend by a nice family in Atlanta who recently lost one of their greyhounds. They have experience with shy pups and she will have a new greyhound brother to play with. It sounds like a perfect fit and I know she will be very happy. Merry Christmas, Charlotte. I'm so glad you will have a forever family of your own this Christmas. We will have a new foster in our house the week of January 5!

Puppy Envy

I've admitted it before, and she proved it true once again this weekend. Seka is a dog snob. She has nothing to do with any other breed of dog other than a greyhound. It is almost as if she doesn't recognize them as dogs, just as another furry thing that somehow exists in the universe and should never invade her space.

I'm not suggesting she's mean. She'll stand there and let every little dog jump up and inspect what's going on in her mouth. I've seen a whole litter of kittens use her tail as a toy, with teeth and claws extended while she just lays there. And she tends to watch the other big dogs at the dog park wrestle and chase, while she fetches her ball and steers clear of drool from "the others."

But this weekend one of those furry aliens invaded our home and needless to say Seka wasn't all that thrilled, but in true Seka style, she got over pretty quickly. We babysat our friend Ashley's nine-week-old mini-Pomeranian puppy over the weekend. His name is Prince Bailey, totally appropriate if you ask me. He looks like a cross between an Ewok, bunny rabbit and one of those Furbies that were popular in the early 1990s. No matter what you call him, he was darn cute.

We played for a few hours in the floor, while Seka safely watched from her favorite chair. He found the toy basket and dragged out every toy Seka has, every one of which was bigger than he was. I have to admit it was impressive to watch him drag around Seka's Kong which out weighed him by about 3 lbs. Every time Seka wanted to get down to get water or go out, she would look at me or Kev and wait until we picked up the little guy so he wouldn't chase her skinny legs, nip at her tail or accidentally get stepped on.

While Bailey was taking an afternoon nap on Saturday, we went to the local SEGA meet-n-greet. We showed up for the last hour since the darn corn on Seka's back foot is giving her trouble again and standing on hard floors gets hard after three hours for her. Most everyone had left due to the crummy weather, but she hung out with handsome Binder and met some nice families and educated people and how perfect greyhounds are. She even bought Bailey a Kong his own size - I mean any good Southern host buys a gift for their guest to make their stay more comfortable.

While Bailey Boy is super cute and a really good dog, a small dose of a puppy is all I needed. I haven't been around a puppy in a long time, but I haven't forgotten how much work they are. Whew! I'll take my couch potato any day. Someone hit that snooze button.

PS: Eagles are State Champs again. And App State are National Champs again. Great football weekend!

Religion

We live in the Bible belt. Every Sunday morning, Sunday evening and Wednesday night the churches in our town are full of faithful followers. The first question you're asked when you move to town is, "What church do ya'll go to?" It's just one of the ways they size you up to decide if they will associate with you or not. If you tell them you're Catholic, they back away slowly.

But whether you sit in the front or back pew, the one religion that everyone in the South can agree on is football. High school and college football to be specific. And this Friday night is a huge football night for my both of my Alma maters: Northside High School and Appalachian State University.

Northside High School is going for back-to-back state AAAA state championships. After a stunning comeback last week in the Georgia Dome, we travel to Waycross (the swamp) to play Ware County. It will be a good game and Kev and I will join some 10,000 Northside faithful in the 3.5 hour trip tomorrow for the game.

Also playing tomorrow night is Appalachian State University, who is going for an unprecedented back-to-back-to-back (that's right, three in a row) I-AA National titles. My sister will be there, texting us updates, while we provide her with updates on the high school game. It was a hard decision to make, but she'll have the family spirit there, while we cheer on the Eagles.

Even Seka loves her football. Hail Mary!

Everyone Loves a Parade - Even Greyhounds

Small towns in the South are stereotypically known for many things:
• Friendly, slow talking people who are somehow totally comfortable telling complete strangers embarrassing stories about their kinfolk.

• Amazing "home cooking" restaurants where it is perfectly acceptable to unbutton your pants to make yourself more comfortable.

• Having a church on every corner, and many times the same denomination is right across the street from one another - a sign that there was a feud at some point in the history of that church.

Living in one of these small, Southern towns, I know that all of these things are true. I'm guilty of indulging in some of these pleasures myself once in awhile.

But it is never officially the holiday season in a small town until the annual Christmas Parade. They still call it that here. To hell with being PC, I guess. And a small town Christmas Parade really celebrates the best part of living in a small town - beauty pageants.

While there were maybe 4 or 5 actual floats in the parade on Saturday, the parade was full of convertible cars with Little Miss Dogwoods and Teen Miss Cherry Blossoms perched on top. In the South, we have beauty pageants that crown the queen of every vegetable, fruit, nut, flower or season that could possibly exist. And those queens range in age from 1 day old to 101 years old. If you're breathing, can put on a ruffled dress, put a bow in your hair, and manage to look somewhat cute in your momma's eyes, you're qualified. As the winner of one of those pageants, you get to ride in the Christmas parade! Besides the crown, that's really all you get, so you better enjoy it.

The one thing I'm not clear about is why the Georgia Forestry Commission made their queen dress up like Smokey the Bear for this year's parade? (see the picture above). It says a lot, doesn't it?

Now, to be fair - I entered a pageant or two myself during my teen years. I even somehow won my school's highly coveted Miss Northside pageant in 1993. And I rode on the back of a convertible in the Warner Robins Christmas Parade proudly, in my crown and sash. Those puff sleeves are totally awesome aren't they? So clearly, I am not a pageant hater. It's just a way of life here. So if you can't beat them, join them!

I'm already planning for the SEGA's entry for next year. We'll all walk our dogs and dress them up as various dog pageant winners. I must work on a crown for Seka immediately.