Take Your Mama Out All Night

Long time, no post. It happens. This is how I'm dealing with FB withdrawal... 

Driving home one afternoon, this upbeat song starts playing on the local oldies station. And I think, hmmm, never heard this song before, how could it be an oldie? How could I have missed such a sweet tune?

Take Your Mama

It's so quirky & charming, and it just cracks me up. Particularly because I could totally outlast my kids if they ever sought to do such a thing. Bwahahaha! At least as long as the all-nighter involved coffee and a star party... :)

Take Your Mama had a limited release in '04, so apparently it wasn't promoted much. I think it's a coming out song of this young man to his mother. And I just love the whole zany spirit of the thing, don't you? That this kid can come out with such joy, and he invites us to share in it. What a beautiful, creative spirit. And now we all benefit from the fact that he's found such a jubilant way to be himself.

~>  Gay lives matter  <~

Disclaimer: This is not about me or anyone I know. Just so you won't wonder.
More than one person has suspected that I am gay. Maybe because I'm such a badass self-reliant mama bear? Whatevs. Still straight. Not that it matters anymore ;)

Kiche

Kiche on a hike near Magdalena Ridge, NM.

The color of marigolds, Kiche was a stocky dog with a timid nature. Sometimes she disguised her shyness with a pugnacious attitude. Not keen on strangers, she watched people from a safe distance until they proved their trustworthiness. Her ultimate compliment was permission for a head pat; it was not often granted. Little children who wanted to pet the doggie were always disappointed. Kiche was not interested in the affection of unfamiliar children. Rambunctious & unpredictable, the little buggers were not to be trusted.


But there were 2 exceptions to her aversion to kids; one was a boy named Jake. She adored him. And the feeling was mutual. However, Jake's friends were greeted with an amplified version of the suspicion she felt for all strangers. When an after-school visit turned into horseplay, the whole sordid affair was abruptly terminated by a bite on the offender's leg. I tried to explain that it wasn't personal, in Kiche's mind the visitor had simply crossed an invisible boundary surrounding her boy. Jake might have been hurt, after all. Although the skin wasn't broken, for years that poor kid was never comfortable around Kiche again. And who could blame him?


If another dog was audacious enough to walk brazenly down our street, given half a chance Kiche would charge with all the fury of a rabid wolf.  Most often this sent the interloper yelping. But once or twice I saw other dogs stand their ground. This caused a moment of reflection when Kiche's true nature was revealed. Obviously, there was some mistake. She'd politely excuse herself back to porch duty. She had no intention of fighting; she just wanted to keep order. If it meant having a little fun by scaring the hell out of some hapless stray, so be it.

Em was Kiche's other favorite kid.

Although she didn't have the burning desire to please that mark the over-achievers in the canine world, she paid careful attention to the family dynamics. Kiche was always keenly aware of the mood in the room. And she had a remarkable sense of justice.





Another of her talents was a superb sense of direction. While hiking on the back half of the Mesa loop in the Magdalena Mountains, the seldom-used trail faded out. Lost in thought, I stopped to glance around for a cairn or a tree blaze. None to be seen. I looked at the lay of the land and realized I'd become disoriented, hadn't even noticed which direction I'd come in from. I started to feel a little uneasy, wondering if there was a cell-phone signal, when Kiche caught my eye. She looked at me as if i should be pitied, then ambled off in some random direction. It seemed like she was shaking her head. My options were limited so I followed her. After 50 yards or so, the trail appeared again right under our feet. She saved us both from a chilly night lost in the woods.


At some point, Kiche began to grow old. She couldn't jump in the car anymore, so I got her a small step stool. Then her ability to walk dwindled. Eventually even her voracious appetite waned. I tried all combinations of luscious snacks, to no avail.


I began to measure the days by whether she seemed to be feeling okay. A good day was when i heard her howling indignation at being left behind from our daily walk. Bad days were when her eyes went vacant and she no longer cared whether all animals in the house were treated fairly.


The time came when it was clear she was suffering; she'd even stopped drinking.  I used an oral syringe to squirt a sip of water into her mouth. She seemed to appreciate that, but turned away after only a couple of sips. Her breath was atrocious; she was badly dehydrated.


My face sopping wet, I could hardly speak coherently, but I made that god-awful, horrific call to the veterinarian. 


Even though i saw it coming, and I've been through this before, I'm stunned by how much i miss that beautiful yellow dog. I hope we'll meet again someday and she can show me the next trail we need to be on.   💔