Oct
20
2009
Isn't she beautiful?

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Sometimes I tell Eric, “I need you to pretend you’re a girl.”

It’s usually when I’m having a girlie moment (rare, but it does happen) & want to discuss something that is 100% estrogen in nature, but have no girlfriends to talk to about it.

So I need you to pretend your a girl. You know, the frilly, silly, pretty, pinkie kind of girl – just for a minute.

Ready? Ok…

For our anniversary, Eric bought me a mud lady of my very own!

[jumping up & down]

I’d seen her weeks ago among several other different ones but didn’t have the money to splurge at the time.

And the next time we went back to Osan (they weren’t selling them at Humphries – shocker) they were all gone.

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But last week when we were walking up & down every aisle at the Osan BX, there she was!

(There’s really not a lot to do on base so the majority of the time people hang out at the BX.)

She & a few others were left-overs that had been moved to an out of the way place.

I’d actually never heard of mud ladies until I met a Warrant Officer’s wife at a farewell party for her husband.

We were the two oldest American females at the party so we gravitated towards each other like true desperate Army wives with no one else to talk to.

She tried to describe their beauty & intricacy to me, but at the time I just nodded along & smiled.

(I’m not really a figurine kinda girl.)

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But over the course of our conversation she mentioned that she owned over 100 different mud ladies!

And when I finally saw one for the first time, all I could think was ‘where is she keeping them? And how is it her husband & teenage son haven’t broken any of them?’

Look at the folds on her sleeves…and the dangling bracelet that really dangles…and look at her fingers!

So now she sits in the china hutch Eric added to the list when he ordered our Army-provided furniture.

How I’m going to pack her up & ship her home when the time comes is beyond me.

But that’s it. That’s all I wanted to share. You can stop being a girlie-girl now & go on about your normal business.

Thanks for humoring me.

Category: Jennifer  3 Comments
Oct
19
2009
From a good mile away

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I’ve been feeding the black dog for 3 days now.

Every night at the same time – I sneak him cups & cups of Dog Chow and clean water.

I hide them away in Eric’s winter Army coat – it’s got huge, deep pockets inside so I wind up looking like the Stay-Puff Marshmallow Man when Maggie & I go out to walk now.

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But I still haven’t thought of a name for him. So when I walk up I say, ”Hello, Baby. Hello, my beautiful boy.”

He can smell me & Maggie coming down the road before he even sees us and as we get closer he jumps up & down, big ol’ tail swinging 90 miles an hour & he starts to whine – anxious for us to hurry up.

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Yesterday, day 2, I discovered he wasn’t going to be food agressive, at least with me.

As I was pouring the food in the bowl he looked up, sniffed my hand, licked it a few times & then went straight for the food.

Head down – chomping away.

And today he let me pet him – while he was eating. Which is a really good sign – at least it would be if we were home & I could call the ASPCA to come get him. It would mean he’s probably adoptable.

Although if we were home, I’d just take him, fatten him up, make sure he gets any medicine & shots he needs, let him sleep in warm blankets at night (it’s starting to get cold here), work on training him & then find a good home for him. And if Eric was retired from the Army & we weren’t moving around anymore, we’d probably just wind-up keeping him.

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But I can’t call the ASPCA – they don’t exist here. I can’t snatch him up & bring him home (although I’ve spent the past 3 days trying to figure out how I could do it & get away with it). And I couldn’t keep him because we’re still Army nomads. And trying to find places to rent with one big dog is hard enough…Maggie’s breed is unjustly considered agressive (which is a complete fabrication) but it’s a stereotype we have to fight everyday. People hear the word ‘Bullmastiff’ & somehow think it must mean Pit Bull.

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Even if I were to successfully rescue this dog, hide him away in our backyard & begin rehabilitating him – we’d get caught.

The custodian mows our backyard – he goes back there whenever he wants. And he knows all the neighbors – although the neighbors would probaby figure it was me even without his help. I’m the crazy American lady who pays attention to all the dogs.

And as horrible as it is to say, there would be another half-starved dog there the next day.

So for now, I continue to feed him – watching over him from a distance.

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When we see him, I make Maggie sit a good ten feet away & tie her leash to a post while I feed him.

She does great – no whining, no barking, no trying to get free.

(But then again, she knows if she sits still & behaves she’ll get a treat when I’m done.)

Then I walk up & kneal down to feed & water him – try to see if he’s beginning to fill-out yet at all or if there’s any other signs of abuse or injury.

But I wasn’t really paying attention to where I was knealing today.

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And even you could smell me comin’ down the road.

(Damn four foot chain.)

Oct
17
2009
and a better home

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There’s a new dog in the neighborhood.

He’s the biggest Korean dog I’ve seen to date – although he looks more like any big, black lab from home.

He’s on a 4 foot chain across the street from that new apartment building next to the woods.

And he’s rail thin.

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I tossed him the three big milkbones I had in my pocket & he devoured each one whole.

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I’m sure he must be used to act as a guard dog for the construction site – now that they’re finishing out the insides. But he’s not agressive…at least not to me or Eric or Maggie.

Granted, I’ve trained Maggie to sit still when meeting any new dog from a distance – so she doesn’t come across as a threat. But still…does he look agressive to you?

He just looks lost to me. Lost & hungry.

But I just don’t get it. Why keep a guard dog who can’t guard because he’s too lethargic from starvation? Koreans seem to treat their goats & cattle better than they treat their dogs.

The two small bowls have both been tumped upside down. There’s no trace of dog food anywhere. And I’m sorry, but a 4 foot lead is not enough for any dog.

As we walked back home I decided that tomorrow I would bring a bowl full of dog food & water…but it turns out I couldn’t wait that long.

Eric was taking me out to the Chili’s at Osan for dinner tonight & I asked if we could drive by the dog first.

When we got there, I climbed out & made my way over to him.

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Eric wanted me to be careful…a dog that thin, that hungry could be agressive – especially at the smell & sight of food.

But this wasn’t my first rodeo – I knew to be careful. No sudden movements. No eye contact. Focus on the task at hand & absolutely, positively no petting.

While the dog wasn’t sure what to think about us, he stayed relatively calm – no barking. Just a few jumps here & there.

We turned over the bowls & filled them with food & water & I gave him one of Maggie’s pig sticks (a twisted pig skin with sweet potato filling).

And I promised him I’d be back tomorrow with more.