Building a garage

Over the last two weeks, we have drawn up plans, obtained a permit, bought and received a semi truck's worth of building materials, and hired roofers.

Last Friday, our garage looked like this:

Over the last weekend, a crew of family and friends helped with our "barn raising." Today the garage looks like this:

You can see in the before/after photo that our photinia got pared down considerably. It is the big tree/bush on the left side of the garage. It was so large that it was in the way of the garage roof. We would have cut it down completely, but there were several birds' nests in it. After some inspection of the nests, we determined that only one was in use, and it was fortunately toward the front of the photinia--so we spared the front part with the nest. The birds are doves.

After the birds move out, we will remove the photinia and replace it with something a bit more appropriate for the space.

Star, as it turns out, is terrified of all the construction. The circular saw, the nail guns, and the air compressor do make a lot of noise, as do the guys when they shout back and forth. To her, I'm sure it seems like a war zone. The few times I lured her outside, she would only sit with her chest pressed against the back door like a weird little gargoyle, practically falling into the house when the door opened.

"Lady, I'm counting on you to defend our home. I will inspect the carpet. With my eyes closed."

We'll have to work on desensitizing her.

Dozer, who grew up around chaotic construction, isn't concerned about the noise. But he was extremely annoyed that no one bothered to throw his frisbee or his tennis ball all weekend.

"How can they reach my toy if I am on the wrong side of the fence??"

For the first time ever, I bathed Dozer on the back porch with the garden hose last weekend. I found it preferable to bathing him in the shower, actually. The sun was hot, the water was cold and refreshing, and I could lather him up and let the soap sit on him while he ambled around in the yard. Dozer's special soap is an antiseptic that sits on him for a minimum of five minutes. Trapped in the shower, Dozer quickly gets anxious and I get bored, so I usually rinse him off after two or three minutes. Doing this on the back porch, I could put the soap on him and let him run around while I did other things. I just had to keep on eye on him to make sure he didn't lick his soapy self. Dozer seemed much happier about the whole process, so I'll probably administer his weekly baths outside during the summer.

Next weekend will be more of the same. Our construction schedule is helped by the terrible drought that Central Texas is currently experiencing. Every day is hot and parched. We had our first real "rain" in months just last night, and the downpour only lasted about 15 minutes. Other nearby areas have seen a bit more rain, but our house seems to be under a dry bubble. The dramatic weather--flooding and tornadoes--across the country has been quite astonishing to see on the news. I hope you are all safe and well.

My dog looks old

I never thought I'd say it, but Dozer is finally starting to show his age. Just a little, and really just because I gave him a bath today.

His droopy face and sagging skin, the slight jut of his joints, and even his thinning fur--when he's wet and pouting, it makes these signs even more obvious. Usually, his fluffy white fur and his chipper demeanor covers up the old, but at bathtime, he's neither fluffy nor chipper. For the first time in his life, I told him he looked like a "grumpy old man."

It made me a little sad because it reminded me of how Felanie looked when she was getting advanced in age. Dozer is a big dog like Felanie was, so his lifespan is naturally shorter than that of smaller dogs.

But he has fewer problems--fewer tumors, no real joint problems, not a bit overweight, and a much more energetic style of living--so perhaps it's too soon for me to be getting all depressed about losing another dog.