Monday, October 5, 2020

Finally!

 There I was....*

Wednesday, September 30th 2020.  Waiting for a phone call to tell us when closing on the house will be scheduled.  Anxiously as, if it doesn't happen that day, we have to start paying the builder rent.  They do like to get their money once the project is finished.

Funny that.

Anyhow, Mrs J and I have been down this rabbit hole several times over the past 3 weeks.  The phone calls usually went "juvat,  we've got you down to close tomorrow at 10 AM".  Then, just as we're loading into the car, "juvat, we can't close, we need more info from you, closing is postponed."

Had to have happened at least ten times.  Suffice it to say, the game wasn't any fun any more.

But... we finally get a call around 2PM.  "Can you make it here at 5PM?"

"Yes"

We did...and after a quarter million signatures, it's our house and we're living in it. OK, a lot of it is the bank's hose, but some of it actually IS ours.

Shortly there after, I got an email from one of our frequent commenters advising me to stop by the local liquor store and show them the email.  Since it is one I frequent (frequently frequent recently), I had no problem picking up the package.

Notice the joy on my face in the photo.  I'm not going to name names ( I don't want Beans to start pandering for a similar gift), but you know who you are and I am thankful for your generosity.

On a different note, this weekend was "Formation School" weekend.  The local airport has a Hotel on site and the owner hosts this event a few times a year.  In order to perform at an airshow, you must have formation currency as well as knowledge of any changes to air show rules.  So, pilots fly their aircraft here on Friday, have class, then take off and fly formation. Rinse and repeat on Saturday.

Since my property is fairly close to the airport (very important when you're flying WWII vintage, single engine aircraft), they regularly fly overhead.

This iteration looked to be all T-6 Texans.

Not THIS T-6 Texan
Source


THIS T-6 Texan
Source

Based on the graduation flyover right around sunset on Saturday, there must have been 13 or so.

Can't see 'em?  Look about midway between the tree and the top of the photo.

Yeah, I know.  Buncha' dots on  a photo.  What can I say, I couldn't find my camera with the telephoto lens.  Just moved in remember?  But it was entertaining to watch them fly over and do some mild acrobatics.

Yes, Beans, the IP in me was grousing and critiquing all day long.  Or, at least until, Mrs J with her razor sharp elbow jabbed me in the ribs and muttered something about jealousy.

Ahh well.

So, it's Thursday night, we've had dinner and my phone rings.  I answer and it's one of our neighbors.  She asks if we have a light brown and white dog.  We don't, but my sister does, so I ask what's going on.

She says she's got a dog on the road from the main highway.  My sister is at work, so I tell the neighbor I'll be right there.

Mrs J comes with me.  And we arrive shortly there after.  It's not my sister's dog, but it is very friendly.

The dog has some pit bull in her, but she's obviously someone's dog as the tail is wagging and she's not showing any aggressive behavior.  

She's also very hungry and thirsty, so we take her home as nothing is open to do anything else with her.

We give her some water which she drinks wagging her tail the whole time.  Eats a little food, then lays down on the old rug we set down for her and goes to sleep.

Next morning we take her to the vet for a check up.  Because of the pandemic stupidity, we drop her off and run some chores in town.

The phone rings as we're coming back to pick her up.  She was in the final stages of cancer and we had to put her down.

If I EVER find that worthless coward that dropped her off in the middle of nowhere to die by herself, I'll put him down myself, slowly and painfully.

We only knew her for a short time, but we miss her.

UPDATE: Mrs J had a better picture.


 


Rest in Peace, girl.

 

 

 

* All Fighter Pilot war stories begin with "There I was..."



42 comments:

  1. May God bless you for your kindness Juvat. If you do find the SOB I'd be happy to provide any help you may require.
    Congrats on completing the paperwork! Take a day (or three) off, you deserve it. We jumped thru those same mortgage hoops a year ago and are about to do it again as the rates have fallen enough to make it worthwhile financially.

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    1. I've got a collection of really old and very useful ways to kill someone very slowly and very painfully. I think this merits using them.

      That is basically how we got our last dog. Some jackwagon dumped off a dog dying of heatworm. Some nice lady found him, took him to a vet, got him fixed up and there we go. He's fine now....

      If I'm ever in Alabama and find out who dumped him I'ma gonna have to go to my little red book of deaths....

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  2. Best of luck in your home.

    You were there at the right time and place to help ease the passing of the dog. Well done indeed.

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  3. Said SOB, should you find him, should be neutered. That is all.

    Oh, BTW. Congrats on being in debt, but at least in a lovely home!

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    1. Slowly, with a dull knife, and left there bleeding, staked to the ground. Did I mention we have several wild pigs in the area? Yeah, that's the ticket.

      But, I'm just being charitable.

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  4. Finally indeed.

    Bless you and Mrs. J for easing that old dog's passing. The less said about the monsters who left the dog to die, the better. Heartless.

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    1. All our animals are rescues now. Cooper we inherited from MBD when she went to Africa. Oscar had a deformed leg and the breeder was going to put him down, we asked if we could have him. Annie, Mrs J found by a dumpster as she was taking out the trash at work on Christmas Eve. Schmedly apparently got dumped out a car window at fairly high speed based on the scrapes on her. Moushka and Mushka, nearly identical Norwegian Blues showed up on our front porch one morning. The horses were brought from a animal rescue facility near starvation during the 2014 drought.

      So...we're getting used to it. But it was still hard coming to terms with not being able to save this one.

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  5. Old Bear was a really neat dog. Great with kids. Poor thing was a long hair collie mix in Houston. Then, one day, he was gone. He just vanished. Several weeks later, I heard some whining and crying outside our front door. He had escaped wherever he had been and made it back on a Sunday morning....

    He had been run over, at least once, completely torn up inside. The kids had to be very gentle when they loved on him... We were living hand to mouth back then. So, after we had cried on him, and loved on him for a few hours. Me and Bear went out into the county. That was the first time I put an animal down that I cried like a baby. I couldn't drive for an hour or so. Buried him with care. He was a great, loyal dog.

    I didn't need that memory today, still a tad tender.

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    1. Sorry STxAR, for tearing open an old wound. I'm sure Bear was a loyal and great dog as you said, but you proved you were a loyal and great human to him. God bless you!

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  6. What kind of heartless bastard does that to a dog that was obviously a family pet? Absolutely heartbreaking to read about that.

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  7. One: Congratulations on your house closing. I was hopeful this was the case when I saw the title.

    Two: Dante got it wrong. The lowest level of Hell is reserved for those that abandon their pets. Bless you and Mrs. Juvat for your kindness.

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    1. Pretty much exactly how I feel about it. I'd also be happy to assist in getting him established there.

      Thanks

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  8. Whoever the cur was, I hope his mother bites him when he gets home.

    May your good news last until the next good news.

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  9. Congrats to the juvat clan on the home and well done for the kindness shown to the pup, COC prevents me from expressing my thoughts about the ....ah.....individual..... who abandoned that pup.

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    1. Thanks, Nylon. You're more polite than I (no surprise there.)

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  10. Congratulations on the house (finally!) I'm so sorry about the dog! That breaks my heart. So glad you and Mrs. J were able to grant the dog a merciful end.

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  11. Glad for your house, sorry about the dog. It the cowardice that the guy showed that really grates.

    Also, nice selection on the Four Roses. That's good stuff.

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    1. Pretty much sums it up perfectly, Borepatch.

      Thanks, I'm pretty happy with it, Mrs J, being a bigger bourbon fan than I, loves it!

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  12. May you live there and enjoy the new house in good health at least for the next century

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    1. Thank you. I really would be a grouchy OLD man at that point. ;-)

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  13. Gawd! Sometimes I hate my fellow man: "be the kind of man your dog thinks you are." At least the pup (they are all pups to me until they show a viciousness) found kindness and love along with a full belly and water in her final hours. Sorry that such a pall was cast over what should have been a happy weekend but thanks to you all for your compassion. regards, Alemaster

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    1. Thanks Alemaster, I like that saying, may have to refer to it time and again.

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  14. I have never been too coward to give my pets a good death, whether at my hands or at the hands of a vet. It's supposed to be part of the Human-Pet bond/contract. We show them love, they reciprocate, we take care of them, they take care of us. One way or another.

    Makes you understand how Austinites got the way they are. Cowardly parents not standing up to their children, not taking responsibility. I see this in the county I live in, amongst the University Elite and the local animal shelters. Dog, cat, whatevs gets old or sick, Family Intelectualistic dumps said pet in the country for the bumpkins to deal with. Worse are those who dump them in our local lake/prairie area that is a known alligator hangout. Even worse are the ones that get puppies or kittens, then when said baby cuteness grows up with no discipline and becomes a problem, out they go, in comes new.

    Subtle clue... If a person can't handle dealing with a pet from beginning to end, most likely they'll make a lousy parent.

    Oh, yeah, congrats on your house. I'm sorry that the joys of ownership-in-name-only (otherwise known as mortgage) and the wonders of Formation School (yes, I still to this day look up and watch planes fly when I hear them. The neighbors must think I'm weird for doing it, I know they're weird for not doing it.) and, what I assume is, a nice bottle of alcohol (I only buy Everclear, but that's because it doesn't dry my wife's hands out when she uses it as a disinfectant...) to be futzed with by sadness.

    You and your whole family are on the good side of God for the way you treat your animals.

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    1. As for ownership in name only, yes...But now I don't have to ask permission to hang a picture.

      Well...except from Mrs J...Of course.

      Thanks, Beans.

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  15. Congratulations on your closing. Truly. We moved here to DFW in 2015. Even now, when my wife and I are out and about, and we see a U-haul, Penske, whatever, being loaded/unloaded in a driveway, we both bust out laughing.

    Well done caring for the stray dog. My wife's sister and her family moved to Virginia from LA many years ago. The had a cat. Her husband drove up in the LA hills and dumped it. When she happened to mention this to us, there was nothing behind her eyes and she just shrugged. Her grown kids are monsters.

    Around 2008, after 18 years, we had to put our cat Emily down. A few weeks later, a scrawny, disheveled, starving Calico cat wandered into our yard, and put her front paws up on my daughter's thigh, begging. Calico's are the red-heads and thinkers of the cat world. Took her in, had the vet check her out--healthy, about two and a half years old, already fixed (whew!). So we adopted a teenage, redhead, female, feline. Fur-covered skill saw if she didn't like you. She is asleep on the floor at my feet as I type this.

    This is my Dad’s AT-6 story.

    It is the fall of 1945, and the war is over. My dad has returned to CONUS after his combat tour flying 35 missions with the 447th Bomb Group. He is stationed in San Diego, and has been tasked with transferring some number of AT-6’s from there up to Oakland. Suffice it to say that he is now an “old hand”. He has this down pat.

    Stretch out pre-flight, paperwork, whatever through Monday into Tuesday until it is too late to make the flight. Make flight Wednesday, stop in Fresno for fuel, arrive Oakland late afternoon. Spend Thursday with post-flight, paperwork, whatever. Now no point in catching a train to RTB because it will be the weekend. Spend Friday and Saturday at his folk’s place where he grew up, catch a train for San Diego on Sunday. Rinse, lather, repeat.

    One find day, a freshly minted infantry 2Lt. asks my dad if he can get a ride. “Sure thing” says my dad. Tells 2Lt when to report to the field and to check out a chute. They head out at the appointed time and land in Fresno for fuel, then off again to Oakland. They are cruising north, snowy mountains far to the east, blue pacific far to the west. Life is good. But, a little bumpy. So my dad requests, and is cleared for an altitude change, which smooths out the ride.

    About the time my dad’s watch tells him he is arriving, he checks his landmarks. Yup, there’s the mountain, there’s the bridge over the bay, there’s ….wait, whut?

    Oops, that’s not Mt. Hamilton, that’s Mt. Diablo, and that’s not the Dumbarton bridge, that’s the San Francisco Bay Bridge. You see, at the Fresno fuel stop, he neglected to check the pilot report board, and so was unaware that his altitude change also gave him a tail wind. He has flown past the airport. As I mentioned, the war just ended, and folks are still a bit jumpy about un-accounted for aircraft in the sky. If you arrive too far outside your ETA, you will fill out stacks of forms explaining WHY you arrived outside your ETA.

    They are at about 7000 ft. My dad contacts Oakland control and says he is about to enter the pattern. He tells his passenger to tighten his straps and hang on. He then executes a screaming split-S to lower altitude, enters the pattern, lands, taxis to the ramp, and shuts down. He steps out on the wing, and checks on his passenger. The 2Lt. is green, and possibly has wet himself. He struggles to exit the cockpit, and in the process, snags the release for his parachute, which deploys over the tail of the plane. He makes a feeble effort to gather the chute, gives up and hits the release, and is last seen desperately running for a place to heave his cookies.

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    1. That's a GREAT story! I can so see that happening. Especially the deploying the chute in the wind part. Not that that has EVER happened to me. Nope Never!

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  16. The real pandemic is the number of diseased druts who don't do responsibility. In business, in jobs, with family and with the animals in our care.

    Fortunately some people still do responsibility.

    Thanks for that and many other things Mr. & Mrs. J.

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    1. Yeah, it does seem to be spreading doesn't it? Can't tell if it's an influx of people running from their current government induced problems or whether the oxygen deficiency from wearing face masks is causing mental problems. Might be both, who knows?

      Hang in there, buddy! You're still in our prayers.

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  17. Concur on the pup, that is heartless and shooting is too good for the perp. Congrats on FINALLY getting the paperwork done! Now the bank owns you for the rest of your natural life... sigh

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  18. Congrats on closing! We were lucky. Sweet Little Wife had all the ducks in military formation, the I's were crossed and the T's were dotted, the seller really wanted out of this place, the loan officer, closing staff, and the two realtors get "9-Plus" for their performance, and we closed in about 3 weeks.

    And I'm trying to un-jack my jaw over that poor pup.....

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    1. Thanks drjim. We certainly thought we had. All the confusion was over the physical address. And since the bank decreed that this was a refinance loan and the refinance team would handle it, but in a refinance loan the address doesn't change, so they never asked us about it. When we had started the paperwork, the septic wasn't in and that process involves getting the new GPS address. So...that was the problem until someone happened to ask about the address.

      Total goat rope.

      Yeah, what a coward!

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  19. 1. 4 Roses!! Yum!!

    2. House--Yea!! FINALLY!!

    3. T 6's-- VERY cool!!

    4. I'd be more than happy to hold your coat, and when Beans is done with his ideas from the Middle Ages, I have a few myself, involving a VERY dull butter knife and a LOT of time...nurses...we know how to inflict as well as relieve "discomfort". You will have another critter waiting at the Rainbow Bridge when you get there.

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    1. 1> Yeah, not bad.

      2> Yep, Getting there on the unpacking.

      3> Yep, would have been cooler if they'd invited me along for a ride, but beggars...

      4> Thanks, don't forget the wild pigs to make the evidence go away.

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  20. The house part makes me happy, the dog part makes me sad, and more than a little angry. At first I had vengeful thoughts, which included having the vet check if the dog was chipped, then taking that info to a point where I might violate either the state's laws, or Gods. Then I calmed down and realized that that evil-doers, the dog, or the neighbors, were guided to you, providing that poor animal with a little bit of love at the very end. I'm glad you're dog people!

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  21. Don't talk about it. A quiet burial in an out of the way place. They don't deserve the notoriety. They don't deserve to keep using up our air either. YMMV.

    Dog Lover

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Just be polite... that's all I ask. (For Buck)
Can't be nice, go somewhere else...

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