October 8, 2025 ~ Wednesday (afternoon/nearly dog-dinner time)
I have been compiling my past Lobster posts into books for a few months now … it always takes longer to do these things than I think. But, I am nearly done … and I’m thinking that my blogs might be, too.
It is with a bit of sadness that I write that as I’m not sure – so, don’t write me off just yet but … we shall see. That big if/but that looms over the future. Sigh.
I say this knowing that I’ve been writing and sending my thoughts out into the universe, for whomever to read them, for over 13 years now. That is a CHUNK of time! So, I’m hesitant to say adios, buh-bye, see ya later … but I’m kind of feeling that this might very well be … IT.
Will this decision free me up … or make my heart sad? I’m sure a bit of both. Is it time to do other things? Perhaps. But for now, I’m going to add this post in as my last post in the last book (Still More Lobster On My Shoulder)of the Lobster On My Shoulder series (five books in all).
I started this blog back in February of 2012 … my god, I was a baby! Or so it feels NOW! My knees were bad, but I wasn’t facing two knee replacements (as I am now)! I’m still not in my “spot” … that elusive Utopia I’ve been looking for (like the lyrically named Gonzalo Pizarro who searched for El Dorado) … but hopefully in the next year. A girl can continue to dream – right?
Over the years, I’ve moved (twice), gained and lost friends and family, commented on this, that, and many other things, endured – like everyone else – life during Covid, and had numerous dogs.
And that brings me to the house hippo who is now asleep next to me.
Yes, Mac is still with me. Some days are better than others as the poor old guy’s legs just aren’t working properly, so I’m picking him up (17,682x a day). Once he can no longer stand or walk on his own, I’ll know that we’ll be off to the bridge, but until then … he is showing the ropes and sharing toys and dog beds with his new, younger, littler (and I say that lightly – no pun intended) brother … who is still nameless!
Yes, (oops) I did it again. And I’m not even Brittany Spears.
Let me just preface this all with saying, it was a weird week. And – there was a full moon.
Some time in the last 10 days or so, I was minding my own business and got an email from one of the rescue sites saying they had a dog for me. I signed up eons ago and occasionally get these notifications. So, I went on the site and “took a look”. Famous last words (as all pet adopters know).
Up until that moment, I had NO intention of adopting another dog. I’ve told everyone that after Mac, I was taking a well-deserved doggy break. I wanted to be fur, slobber, and poop free for a while.
Yeah, apparently, the joke’s on me. Sometimes the universe has other ideas (as we all well know).
So, I took a look … and there he was in all his brindled/blue marled Frenchie splendor … lying like some Playmate of the Month on a white fur throw looking oh-so glamorous, darling, and dare I say … petite.
Um, we’ll get to that part later.
I sent back an email saying I might be interested in “Rocky” … but I wanted more info. I didn’t hear back. Crickets. So, days went by, and I figured someone else snatched up that little morsel (and who wouldn’t!) right away. Okay – not to be. Whatever. It wasn’t like I was really looking!
A couple of days later, I got another email from that rescue group asking me if I was still interested in said dog? They hadn’t heard back from me and were trying to reach me. So, I don’t know who was trying (were they?) to reach me but, yeah – I’d like more info. I had to fill out more paperwork and put down a (refundable) deposit to get more info and blah blah blah. And, for grins, we set up a meeting on Friday for me to see this little guy.
Friday afternoon, I pulled into the Petco parking lot thinking we’d meet inside – in one of those meet/greet rooms – and I’d get some floor time with this pupster and see how he reacted/how social he was/if I thought he might be a good fit for me/Mac/my home/etc.
I don’t know what happened, but roughly 7 minutes later, having BARELY extricated myself from my car to bend down and pet this dog … I was driving away with him! Seriously. I felt like something illicit had just taken place or that we had just done a drug deal in the Petco parking lot or I was part of an alien abduction. Was this really a rescue dog or did this couple steal it from somewhere and ???? It all happened so FAST … and it was beyond weird.
I pulled up to the first stoplight and looked over to this dog … taking up the entire front seat of my car and said out loud, “What did I just do?” And the answer to that question was … I adopted a blue marle, 8.5 year old Frenchie named Rocky (for the moment) … and while darling and glamorous … he’s ANYTHING but petite. This behemoth weighs 48 pounds! OMG.
I was thinking my next dog would be some little creature that weighed no more than 25 lbs … NO more for sure. Well, here we are! Egad. And … oh, my aching back (and arms and knees)!
Well, I realized as soon as we got home that he was not going to be a couch or bed buddy (as I was hoping) because I’d have to lift him UP and DOWN and at 48# that was NOT going to happen (on any significantly consistent and recurring basis). And then, one of these past nights when I was on the couch, the dog looked at me and (somehow!) in one swift, flowing movement, practically floated up to the couch cushion and cuddled up next to me! How did THAT happen? So, while I won’t be lifting him up to my bed – maybe I do have a couch buddy after all.
So, here we are with a few days under our proverbial belts and he’s getting used to the freedom of the backyard – I found him sunbathing today! So dang cute! Mac is getting used to having someone sneak into his big dog bed (and I’m shooing the newbie out to his own – I can expect an old dog only to be SO accommodating). The pitiful doggy eyeballs I’ve been getting from Mac since this house hippo has arrived have been plentiful and heart-melting. Sorry baby!
In any case, Mr. No Name has been trying out new names since he stepped foot (paw) in the house. Rocky is too Sylvester Stallone-esque for me! Mr Quigley was my first attempt – but, he didn’t seem the Mr. Quigley type. Then, a nod to my paternal grandfather … and was he a Hugo? Or a Boris, Buster, or Charlie? No, no, and I don’t think so. I thought Hank (the Tank) and Chunk … and then of Theo and Jasper (which both mean in some way patterned – like his coat) but, he doesn’t look like a Theo and while I really like Jasper – the movie The Holiday has a Jasper in it and the guy’s a complete jerk – so, no, not Jasper either.
I’ve thought of Chester, Tater (or Mr. T), Pork Chop, and Ned … and for a day or two I was calling him Walter … but nothing has settled or been quite right. We’re still figuring it out. I told a friend I should name him Edam … cuz then, I’d have Mac ‘n Cheese! Only joking!
In any case – someone in the Make a Wish/Give a Girl Her Dream Dog department in Heaven saw this porky pork chop baby and said, “Have we got the gal for this dog! She’s always wanted a pygmy hippo and a Frenchie … so, BOGO! A 2-fer!” and well, here he is in all his brown/gray/apricot beauty, hefty and as bendable as a dense sequoia, and about the size of a growing baby pygmy hippo.
How could I possibly say no to that?!