This is so weird. Humom made a huge kerfluffle about going down to the Peer (??) to get our car. Well, dammit, if the car was coming with us, why didn't we just drive ourselves? I bet humom didn't trust herself to drive this far, but the driver she got sure took a long time. She says they put the car on a fairy boat to bring it over the water, which you can tell because the car is covered with ocean salt. Tastes pretty good, if you're in the mood.
Anywoo, humom's friend Sav set her up with L to drive to the Peer and get the car, whole big deal (sheesh). Humom came back all stoked, not just because all our stuff is in the car -- MORE stuff?? Where is she going to put it?? -- but also because she really enjoyed meeting L, who seems to be just the kind of gal humom hopes to have as students in her course. Nice to know they're out there in the wild. I just care if they like Mallies ...
-- Missy out
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Arrival
Humom and I have arrived in Honolulu (or as she says, (HNL). I'm writing this because she is POOPED (when I'm pooped, I get a time-out, but whatevahs).
We were greeted by a huge, almost vertical technicolor rainbow as we flew into HNL. Or so she says. I have to take her word for it, being incarcerated in my house in an Aloha Air Cargo flight at the time.
Missy exaggerates. She was safely on the tarmac; her flight was delayed for over an hour. The lovely people at Aloha in HNL were clearly used to dealing with pet parents quietly having nervous breakdowns while conspicuously NOT asking "is she here yet?" every 5 seconds ... They also thought it was hilarious that she had her own carry-on, but a girl's gotta have her stuff. They were all quite as nice as the lovely blonde lady in OGG, unlike the dude, who was a real bastard and desperately needed a good biting or maybe a nice case of mange. Sarcoptic.
I was greeted by many admirers, of course, and my house was sent away with greetings to my Auntie Shel. She is not here. I don't understand that. What is here is rain. For my friends in Kihei, that is moisture that falls from the sky, and not from sprinklers. It is cooler than sun. You cannot drink it, tho, even if it makes puddles on the ground, because Humom says, "ick, no, dirty."
We have a LOT of dogs in the house. I've only fought with one of them, but have chatted with a couple of shepherds and lots of hors d'oeuvres. There's a Sibe named Paradise (snicker) and a boy Sibe named Jake. Right across the street is the Zoo with other people I've read but haven't met yet. We shall find a way, no doubt ...
There is also a beach about a minute away but the sand is grainy and like pieces of shell -- I'll have to get used to it. We walk on it a lot, but try to find times when it is not TOTALLY crowded. I know I'm beautiful, but really, it would be nice to be able to exit the building without being mobbed by popperatsy (sp?). Those are a species of hyena who travel in packs carrying cameras/phones that they shove in my face, taking pictures & grabbing at me without even asking or talking to Humom & screeching & cackling the whole time. Sometimes I have to act like Ghost & just hide behind H's legs ...
-- Missy out
We were greeted by a huge, almost vertical technicolor rainbow as we flew into HNL. Or so she says. I have to take her word for it, being incarcerated in my house in an Aloha Air Cargo flight at the time.
Missy exaggerates. She was safely on the tarmac; her flight was delayed for over an hour. The lovely people at Aloha in HNL were clearly used to dealing with pet parents quietly having nervous breakdowns while conspicuously NOT asking "is she here yet?" every 5 seconds ... They also thought it was hilarious that she had her own carry-on, but a girl's gotta have her stuff. They were all quite as nice as the lovely blonde lady in OGG, unlike the dude, who was a real bastard and desperately needed a good biting or maybe a nice case of mange. Sarcoptic.
I was greeted by many admirers, of course, and my house was sent away with greetings to my Auntie Shel. She is not here. I don't understand that. What is here is rain. For my friends in Kihei, that is moisture that falls from the sky, and not from sprinklers. It is cooler than sun. You cannot drink it, tho, even if it makes puddles on the ground, because Humom says, "ick, no, dirty."
We have a LOT of dogs in the house. I've only fought with one of them, but have chatted with a couple of shepherds and lots of hors d'oeuvres. There's a Sibe named Paradise (snicker) and a boy Sibe named Jake. Right across the street is the Zoo with other people I've read but haven't met yet. We shall find a way, no doubt ...
There is also a beach about a minute away but the sand is grainy and like pieces of shell -- I'll have to get used to it. We walk on it a lot, but try to find times when it is not TOTALLY crowded. I know I'm beautiful, but really, it would be nice to be able to exit the building without being mobbed by popperatsy (sp?). Those are a species of hyena who travel in packs carrying cameras/phones that they shove in my face, taking pictures & grabbing at me without even asking or talking to Humom & screeching & cackling the whole time. Sometimes I have to act like Ghost & just hide behind H's legs ...
-- Missy out
Friday, July 06, 2012
Missy's togs
We're moving to Honolulu this weekend. We'll probably only be there for the semester, and the apartment is tiny -- a former hotel room -- so we have to downsize. Predictably, the place is a mess as I'm going through everything to decide what stays here and what goes. Just discovered some big, Malamute-sized bandanas I'd made out of beautiful, soft colors that exactly match Missy's coat. So yesterday I took her with me on errands and she was strutting around the UPS office, etc, all spiffed up and fancy. Not that she doesn't look lovely all naked!
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Moving to Maui (AMAL Tales story) I
11/8/2010 [draft of essay published in AMAL Tales Winter/Spring 2011]
Dear Aunt Shel,
I heard you ask my Food Person to write a story for the AMAL Newsletter about our moving to Maui from Texas. Seriously? Don’t you think the story should come from Me?
Part 1.
About this Texas. That’s short for Land of Fire Ants, Crazy Heat and Pit Bulls. I have discovered that Hawai’i, as Maui is also called (humans!) is also the Land of Pit Bulls, but FP tells me there are no Fire Ants, and investigation reveals only little, harmless but not delicious ones. We were able to make this investigation right away and at our leisure.
But I digress. Getting out of Texas is not easy. FP explained to me that Hawai’i has a quarantine law and that we had to begin shots and other preparations 120 days in advance or I would be put in jail, but that’s not logical. Who wouldn’t want to have me, Miss Congeniality? Obviously it is Texas that didn’t want to lose me. So we had lots of pleasant visits with Dr. Davenport at Love Pet. Dr. D has been to Maui and knows the law very well, so she was able to calm down FP, who was very silly about the whole thing, and make sure we were on time at every stage along the way. I like Dr D very much even though she gives me shots all the time.
FP did miss a mailing deadline, since she discovered that it is possible to clear quarantine on Maui without having to go through Honolulu airport. So we were finally booked (see? They didn’t want us to leave!) on a flight out of Austin to Chicago on Nov 6, connecting to Kahului. FP made a real Pest of herself calling United again and again to make sure that my Malamute-size crate would fit on the little plane going out of Austin, and each time the reservations agent assured her that, yes, there would be no problem at all.
Meanwhile, we were packing up the house, finding a renter and getting ready to leave. Well, if you knew my FP, you would laugh hysterically and stop reading right here. This meant packing up 13 years of accumulated stuff that humans laughingly call “necessary.” We Malamutes know much better, of course. FP ended up with over 100 boxes of books alone, another 100 boxes of miscellaneous crap, including crafting stuff – why humans aren’t satisfied with simply contemplating nature’s beauty, like me, I can’t understand. The movers kept delaying their arrival and finally came at 5 p.m.!! on the 5th!! FP was not in a calm, Zen-like state. They were still filling up the truck when we left at 4 a.m. There was a dispute amongst the humans about the cost, which I ignored, and FP says she doesn’t know if her stuff will ever arrive or not. Fine by me. Oh, and another man came to take the car, too. It is also going on the boat.
At this point (Saturday), FP had last slept around Wednesday, showered on Thursday, eaten on Friday, squashed a toe, had terminally damaged fingernails, and was not a sunshiny pleasure to be around. I personally don’t see any reason to lose one’s grace or composure in any situation. At least I didn’t until we reached the airport at 4:30 a.m.
Ms Angie came to pick us up. She is Not A Morning Person, so her taking the time and effort to get up and out that early was really special, and I gave her many extra kisses.
At the airport, a nice skycap allowed us to commandeer his big crate dolly, and we sailed into the United line to check in, smelly but smiling. At which point the girl at the counter said, “Oh, that crate will never fit on this flight. You won’t be flying out today.”
My FP said a bad word, I said WOO, and thus began the saga of Getting Missy to Maui before 4 on Saturday.
Dear Aunt Shel,
I heard you ask my Food Person to write a story for the AMAL Newsletter about our moving to Maui from Texas. Seriously? Don’t you think the story should come from Me?
Part 1.
About this Texas. That’s short for Land of Fire Ants, Crazy Heat and Pit Bulls. I have discovered that Hawai’i, as Maui is also called (humans!) is also the Land of Pit Bulls, but FP tells me there are no Fire Ants, and investigation reveals only little, harmless but not delicious ones. We were able to make this investigation right away and at our leisure.
But I digress. Getting out of Texas is not easy. FP explained to me that Hawai’i has a quarantine law and that we had to begin shots and other preparations 120 days in advance or I would be put in jail, but that’s not logical. Who wouldn’t want to have me, Miss Congeniality? Obviously it is Texas that didn’t want to lose me. So we had lots of pleasant visits with Dr. Davenport at Love Pet. Dr. D has been to Maui and knows the law very well, so she was able to calm down FP, who was very silly about the whole thing, and make sure we were on time at every stage along the way. I like Dr D very much even though she gives me shots all the time.
FP did miss a mailing deadline, since she discovered that it is possible to clear quarantine on Maui without having to go through Honolulu airport. So we were finally booked (see? They didn’t want us to leave!) on a flight out of Austin to Chicago on Nov 6, connecting to Kahului. FP made a real Pest of herself calling United again and again to make sure that my Malamute-size crate would fit on the little plane going out of Austin, and each time the reservations agent assured her that, yes, there would be no problem at all.
Meanwhile, we were packing up the house, finding a renter and getting ready to leave. Well, if you knew my FP, you would laugh hysterically and stop reading right here. This meant packing up 13 years of accumulated stuff that humans laughingly call “necessary.” We Malamutes know much better, of course. FP ended up with over 100 boxes of books alone, another 100 boxes of miscellaneous crap, including crafting stuff – why humans aren’t satisfied with simply contemplating nature’s beauty, like me, I can’t understand. The movers kept delaying their arrival and finally came at 5 p.m.!! on the 5th!! FP was not in a calm, Zen-like state. They were still filling up the truck when we left at 4 a.m. There was a dispute amongst the humans about the cost, which I ignored, and FP says she doesn’t know if her stuff will ever arrive or not. Fine by me. Oh, and another man came to take the car, too. It is also going on the boat.
At this point (Saturday), FP had last slept around Wednesday, showered on Thursday, eaten on Friday, squashed a toe, had terminally damaged fingernails, and was not a sunshiny pleasure to be around. I personally don’t see any reason to lose one’s grace or composure in any situation. At least I didn’t until we reached the airport at 4:30 a.m.
Ms Angie came to pick us up. She is Not A Morning Person, so her taking the time and effort to get up and out that early was really special, and I gave her many extra kisses.
At the airport, a nice skycap allowed us to commandeer his big crate dolly, and we sailed into the United line to check in, smelly but smiling. At which point the girl at the counter said, “Oh, that crate will never fit on this flight. You won’t be flying out today.”
My FP said a bad word, I said WOO, and thus began the saga of Getting Missy to Maui before 4 on Saturday.
Moving to Maui (AMAL Tales) II
Part 2.
We had to arrive on Maui in time to meet the Pet Doctor there who decides if you can enter the island or have to go to jail. If you get there too late, you have to go to jail. Sunday, ditto. So my FP didn’t just say, “oh, okay then” to the counter girl, Casey, but asked to speak to her alpha. Linda called her alpha, who sent us to American. American had a great connection via LAX (sounds runny) straight to Kahului which could accommodate my crate and got in in plenty of time. Much jubilation. Then the American alpha came out and said that sadly, American has a policy that all pets must fly into Honolulu. FP pointed out our Neighbor Island Permit that we worked so hard for. I said WOOOOOO. The 50th person mentioned that I sound just like Chewbacca. The alpha said, yes, everything lines up just perfectly and she would be delighted to fly FP to Kahului, and personally she would be delighted to fly ME, but the airline has this ironclad policy. Don’t they like Malamutes over at American?? Only United could fly me to Maui. So back to the United counter we went.
And there stood the United alpha with a teeny, tiny little crate, about the size for a Pit Bull. Long story short, I was downsized (like FP). We were put on another flight and FP shed a tear or two to see me so squished. They put me in a smelly place with a lot of suitcases. Then someone who drives a lot better than FP drove for a long time. It did strange things to my ears, but I drank my ice when it melted and wooooed but nobody came. I even had to pee, it was gross.
At a place called Denver, some large men and ladies came and took me off the plane. Finally! No, it was not the end. They put my crate in the sunshine for a while – FP told me later that she was watching from the terminal like a hawk, which doesn’t sound very friendly. Then they put my crate on a huge crate dolly and closed curtains around it and moved us into a deafening place with hundreds of crate dollies all full of suitcases and even some other dogs and cats in crates. The large humans brought my own, Malamute-sized house and stood around talking a lot, then one of them brought my FP! I thought, Finally, but no. They just put together my house and moved me into it and took apart the PB crate and gave me some more water and everybody got to pet me and tell me how beautiful I am (duh) and how much I sound like Chewbacca, and they moved all the stickers from the tiny crate to my house, and I thought, “Uh oh.” And in fact, FP did have the gall to leave me there in what she called the railroad yard and made everyone promise to take good care of me and see that I got on the plane. And I did, together with an Appetizer dog and two Minor Snack dogs.
I will not sully your ears, dear Aunt Shel, with an account of the ensuing day. Again I found myself on the move, hoping desperately that a better driver than FP was at the wheel. This proved to be the case, since we arrived, long after I had given up all hope of the trip’s ever ending, at a cool and fragrant place.
The large people here delivered me into the hands of a lady with a lovely smile and twinkling eyes. I immediately recognized her for another Doctor, and so she proved to be – Dr Kim, from the Maui Humane Society, who had kindly come in on her day off to welcome me to Maui. She was very kind and gentle with me, and with FP, who was a shameful wreck by this time. She must have been in an even smaller crate than mine, the way she was creeping along, moaning at every step, bleary-eyed and brain-dead.
Fortunately, I was able to ignore her completely and turn my attentions to the vision of loveliness, the clean, fresh, beautiful and cheerful friend to all Malamutes, my new best friend, rescuer and benefactor, my dear Aunt Shel.
I think I will like it here.
Wooooooos, Miss Congeniality
We had to arrive on Maui in time to meet the Pet Doctor there who decides if you can enter the island or have to go to jail. If you get there too late, you have to go to jail. Sunday, ditto. So my FP didn’t just say, “oh, okay then” to the counter girl, Casey, but asked to speak to her alpha. Linda called her alpha, who sent us to American. American had a great connection via LAX (sounds runny) straight to Kahului which could accommodate my crate and got in in plenty of time. Much jubilation. Then the American alpha came out and said that sadly, American has a policy that all pets must fly into Honolulu. FP pointed out our Neighbor Island Permit that we worked so hard for. I said WOOOOOO. The 50th person mentioned that I sound just like Chewbacca. The alpha said, yes, everything lines up just perfectly and she would be delighted to fly FP to Kahului, and personally she would be delighted to fly ME, but the airline has this ironclad policy. Don’t they like Malamutes over at American?? Only United could fly me to Maui. So back to the United counter we went.
And there stood the United alpha with a teeny, tiny little crate, about the size for a Pit Bull. Long story short, I was downsized (like FP). We were put on another flight and FP shed a tear or two to see me so squished. They put me in a smelly place with a lot of suitcases. Then someone who drives a lot better than FP drove for a long time. It did strange things to my ears, but I drank my ice when it melted and wooooed but nobody came. I even had to pee, it was gross.
At a place called Denver, some large men and ladies came and took me off the plane. Finally! No, it was not the end. They put my crate in the sunshine for a while – FP told me later that she was watching from the terminal like a hawk, which doesn’t sound very friendly. Then they put my crate on a huge crate dolly and closed curtains around it and moved us into a deafening place with hundreds of crate dollies all full of suitcases and even some other dogs and cats in crates. The large humans brought my own, Malamute-sized house and stood around talking a lot, then one of them brought my FP! I thought, Finally, but no. They just put together my house and moved me into it and took apart the PB crate and gave me some more water and everybody got to pet me and tell me how beautiful I am (duh) and how much I sound like Chewbacca, and they moved all the stickers from the tiny crate to my house, and I thought, “Uh oh.” And in fact, FP did have the gall to leave me there in what she called the railroad yard and made everyone promise to take good care of me and see that I got on the plane. And I did, together with an Appetizer dog and two Minor Snack dogs.
I will not sully your ears, dear Aunt Shel, with an account of the ensuing day. Again I found myself on the move, hoping desperately that a better driver than FP was at the wheel. This proved to be the case, since we arrived, long after I had given up all hope of the trip’s ever ending, at a cool and fragrant place.
The large people here delivered me into the hands of a lady with a lovely smile and twinkling eyes. I immediately recognized her for another Doctor, and so she proved to be – Dr Kim, from the Maui Humane Society, who had kindly come in on her day off to welcome me to Maui. She was very kind and gentle with me, and with FP, who was a shameful wreck by this time. She must have been in an even smaller crate than mine, the way she was creeping along, moaning at every step, bleary-eyed and brain-dead.
Fortunately, I was able to ignore her completely and turn my attentions to the vision of loveliness, the clean, fresh, beautiful and cheerful friend to all Malamutes, my new best friend, rescuer and benefactor, my dear Aunt Shel.
I think I will like it here.
Wooooooos, Miss Congeniality
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Life on Maui
Missy and I have been on Maui for almost three months now. She is enjoying the cool weather (!!) and gets a lot of attention from the neighbor kids, who insist that she is a werewolf and keep waiting for her to turn into a cute teenager ...
We have a lovely walk through cane fields with a spectacular view of oceans on two sides, the gentle South side and the more turbulent North side. We're Upcountry, where it rains a lot, so it's green and there are always rainbows ...
Sunday, January 10, 2010
About the blog
This blog was begun to celebrate the life of my darling Allie, who succumbed at ca. 13 on August 28 2007 to kidney failure after a 2.5 year fight. Guerillera Alexandria was an Alaskan Malamute, adopted from Texas Alaskan Malamute Rescue at the age of approx. 6. Her specialty was killing possums, but she did not turn up her nose at squirrels, grackles, stray chickens, or any other prey that came her way. She represented TAMR at the Malamute National Specialty rescue showcase in Ogden, Utah in 2004, learned agility, and performed with a drill team in Austin. Her full-time job was to be worshiped as Queen of the Universe. Allie was joined by several foster Malamutes.
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