2002-12-29 - 9:51 p.m.

On the internal soundtrack: "Joy to the World"

Well, it looks to me like Poindexter's gone and fallen in love with another girl.

Not that I blame him. She's really, really cute. And when she snuggles up to him and tucks her head under his chin, the look on his face is priceless. I wish I had a video of it.

The girl in question is a miniature pinscher puppy that Poindexter wanted to name "Vixen" ((yes, I changed the pseudonym), but it's not his dog, so she got named something else, but we'll call her "Vixen" here. She was a surprise Christmas present from Papa to the MIL. She's in the gratuitous photo of the day at the bottom of the entry.

My GOD, is she CUTE. She looks like a tiny Bambi, scampering across the kitchen floor after people. I could watch her for hours. She loves to curl up and fall asleep on people's laps, especially Papa's. The first time Poindexter sat down to hold her, every time she licked his face or rested her chin on his chest and looked up at him, he looked like he was going to start crying from the mushiness of it all. And when she was crying when they put her to bed, he looked like his heart would break. Once they put a radio on (with a man's voice talking) she slept fine, though. She doesn't seem to like being away from people.

Papa got her on December 9th, and she stayed with some friends of theirs for the interim. The friends have two minipins of their own, and the friends have another friend who also has a minipin, so when they brought over Vixen on Christmas Eve, they all came and brought all three minipins plus the puppy, so it was complete bedlam with these things running around the house, jumping up on the back of the couch and leaping around. They are some funny dogs.

MIL has always had Dobermans before, but since she doesn't have room for one now, she wanted a minipin. Which is not, if you care, a miniature Doberman but a cross between a daschund and a miniature greyhound. Anyway, I got her talking about some of her Dobermans, all of which she got at the pound. One of them was a particularly fascinating story. The dog was *extremely* well trained -- the folks at the pound said that someone had spent thousands of hours training him. He was the kind of dog who, when you said "Stay", would actually stay for up to hours at a time. I couldn't believe it. The pound people said that when someone spends that much time with a dog, occasionally an EVIL jealous significant other will take the dog, drive a hundred miles, and dump the dog. The poor owner searches locally, not knowing what happened, and never finds their dog.

People who do this sort of thing should be shot.

Today I drove up to my folks' house to go to Mass with them. Last year on this Sunday (I was in Virginia, DAMMIT), some girl sang "O Holy Night", which is my favorite solemn Christmas carol. (Favorite joyful one is "Joy to the World"; favorite goofy one is "Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer".) The priest said at the end of Mass, "That was so lovely, I think I'd like to hear it again" and asked her to sing it again, which she did. I was SO JEALOUS that I missed it. There was no way I was missing it this year.

Unfortunately, this year there was no "O Holy Night", and they played "Joy to the World" at the tempo of a funeral dirge. Sigh. I'll try again next year.

In the meantime, I can visit the church's web site. I went there last night to get a map, and it was playing an electronic "Joy to the World" that was so cheerful and happy I listened to it about 12 times in a row, loudly. Poindexter heard it downstairs and came up to ask, irritatedly, if I ever intended to stop playing it. I said no.

Random bits:

The allergens of Philadelphia welcomed me back by making me sneeze ALL GODDAMN DAY yesterday. I was miserable. I looked like Rudolph, too.

Last night I wanted a pickle spear, but I didn't want to get my fingers wet from the pickle juice. Just a mood, I guess. So I cut it up and ate it with a fork. I don't think I've ever done that before.

At one point, I was bringing some things downstairs in addition to my contacts and cleaning solution, and I had a very precarious load of seven or eight items. I read in a book once that this is called "the lazy man's load", because you're too lazy to make two trips. That's me to a T. I think of the phrase every time I load up that way.

A college friend of mine lives about half an hour north of me in Bucks County. I haven't seen her in over three years, I think. I couldn't find her address or phone (moving three times will do that to a person), and she's unlisted. My last hope was that she'd send my parents a Christmas card. Which she did. SHE HAS A KID. Fifteen month old girl. Now that I have the address, I wrote her a note catching her up on our moving saga, and hopefully we can get together soon.

My brother has his bone scan on Monday. This is where they find out if he has any other bone lesions. Everything we've heard up to this point indicates that they probably won't find any, but he's understandably a little nervous, and so I'm nervous for him. Prayers and crossed fingers much appreciated.

Finally, here's me and Vixen:

The things in her ears are to help train them to stay upright. I'm not real big on people doing this to minipins -- I like how they looks with tails and ears natural. Clearly I'm not destined for the Westminster show.

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