Scarred for Life, I Tell Ya!

We don't really celebrate Christmas at casa de Crazy - we're more of a Yule/Solstice lot.  That said, we aren't above inviting friends and family to spend the day here, especially if they may not have anywhere else to go.  This year, T brought the Evil Genius over (T's mother passed through the veil a few days ago and he thought maybe they'd have a nicer time NOT in an empty house full of her ghosts, and I thought that was a fine idea), and our friend Mizz M came with her dog, Milo.

Milo is a Pitbull.

He has a history.

That history involves dog fighting.

Because, Pitbull.

Milo was a bait dog, and when he was first rescued he had...issues.  Mizz M has worked lovingly, diligently, to help Milo recover from his rather horrid past, to shed fear, distrust, and a host of other issues.

Milo has worked lovingly, diligently, to help Mizz M with some issues of her own.

Milo has never been to Casa de Crazy.  We have cats.  Pitbull.  Cats.

Ah, but Milo has cats...and not for breakfast!  He has kitty-people who live with him and his human, and other canines, too.  Our cats didn't give a fig what sort of felines associate with Milo...most of them opted to step up their anti-social game and stay burrowed under the covers of my bed all day, but Maya, the sociablest (is TOO a word, spell check, even if I only just now made it up!) of the lot, the hostess kitty, came out and made friends.  She even permitted a few Milo-kisses.

The kids were both delighted by our four-legged guest - they've met his human and approve of her, but the pup stole the show.

The Pitbull.

So dangerous...because he could easily snuggle you to death!  So vicious, all those licks and kisses!  Such a menace...with that frantically wagging tail!

I let him sit on my lap.  He followed me around trying to convince me that I needed to feed him some of whatever I was having.  His human gave him little tastes of this and that.  I might not have given him the deviled eggs, but since SHE'S the one who has to live with the resultant...er...results...I don't mind that he snarfed up one or two that she "dropped".  I even unbent from my rule...well, more like a guideline...of not feeding dogs and when he sat on command I gave him some colby-jack.

Milo is proof that no matter how ugly a being's past may be, they can be loving, trusting, forces for good.  He is proof that judging a breed by the stereotypes of a few who have bee MADE what they are by others is a mistake, and unfair.  He is also more typical than not of the Pitbulls I've known in my life - sweet, happy, loving, gentle, trusting, adoring of children and other critters, and willing to forgive the worst that's been thrown at him because it's in his nature to do so.

I know some humans who could take a lesson...

Some photos:

 Oh, noes, the Pibble has my Sprout !

 Oh, the humanity - won't anybody help save my beautiful daughter from this marauding canine???

 Seriously, she's going to lose her...umm...heart?

See how traumatized she is?

Well, Hello There

The denizens of Casa de Crazy spent much of the day outside...and can you blame us, when it was in the mid-sixties all day? The Evil Genius even manged to get a wee sunburn. Nothing horrible, just a little pink here and there.

While Someone worked his cute tushie off, I spent a chunk of time whittling wands our of Forsythia branches. I even made a little one for Bird, who promptly asked me why it wasn't working...he was trying to magic some plants from outside where Someone was re-potting them into his room. I told him he was doing it wrong and to practice. He was busy all afternoon.

Some neighbors put in an appearance, announcing that it may yet freeze, it may yet rain, but Spring is truly nigh.

See that speck a bit left of center? Bat.

Honest, look.

Lookit 'im go!

He (or she) was having a feast, and there were several others enjoying an evening's flight, too.

Go, bats, go - they eat mosquitoes by the ton and are most welcome here.

Hello, friends!

Then there was this fellow in the woods.
The first of his clan to make himself known, but there will be many more in the next few days - they don't take snow (hah!) for an answer.

Red Eft

While we were packing out (groan) from our Ohio trip, I had occasion to look down at the ground and discover a little friend in the grass. I was later informed it was a Red Eft, the terrestrial/juvenile stage of the Eastern Newt. I am not much for knowing about lizardy critters...I liked his spots, though, and he was friendly enough to hang out on my hand for a bit before I hauled his (tiny) butt over to the woods where he wouldn't get mooshed into oblivion by my big ol' feet (or Mum's, which may be smaller than mine but are still enormous to a Red Eft!). Sadly, I didn't get a photo of my little friend, as I was busy chatting with him about the dangers of scuttling through a camp in tear-down mode, but I found one on the Internet and "borrowed" it. Take a look:

Isn't that just the cutest little thing? The photo doesn't do it justice, either - those spots really pop! There are club kids who wish they could be that bright and 3-D!

Mum tried to coax the little fella onto her hand, but he (it could have been a she - I didn't ask and it's rude to look) was having none of it. He was maybe the length of my middle finger, if he'd straightened out at all...which he didn't, being a touch interested in scampering about my hands and occasionally leaping down to the ground and trying to get under foot again. After showing him to a few other interested folks, I set him in some leaf-litter and watched him hurry away - probably formulating the tale he would tell his fellow newts about the stinky, loud, obviously not very hungry giants out in the grassy place.