Jude Stringfellow's Blog, page 6

El Reno, Oklahoma.

     Some cities hold a special place in my heart for reasons that most people will not know about me, or maybe they don't see what I see, but El Reno is one of those places. The first time I visited El Reno, I was really young. We went out to a lake to fish, but I don't remember much more than that, and the old town, the way it must have looked when it was first inhabited. The main streets remain largely unchanged from their original state. It's about 20 minutes outside of Oklahoma City by car, approximately 18 miles, and it's really nice. It wasn't always that way.

    El Reno, back at the turn of the 20th century, was a rather rough place. It was far enough outside of the city to be far enough outside of the hand of the law. It was a sizable city even then, but it was mostly comprised of hard-working people with little to spend, even after working long, hard hours. There were cowpokes, farmers, ranchers, saloons, and edgy places. There were fewer churches per capita, but they had a few.

    The reason I love El Reno is that it was the county seat of Canadian County, and it had the courthouse where my favorite lawyer of all time, Temple Houston, came a few times. I will walk the streets of any town that I believe he walked, and I will go into any house, hotel, building, church, or courtroom where I believe he spent even a fraction of an hour. He was the best defense attorney in the world, and I simply love the man. He and Perry Mason had a few things in common, but Temple really lived.

    I've decided to save my money and buy a house in El Reno next spring. That's the plan. Today, my good friend Tammie Fox Raynor and I set out to explore the various neighborhoods and see what's available. I can't buy one now, but it gave me a glimpse into what to expect and where to look when I start my search.  I think I found the general area, so we cruised around it several times to see what I could see.

    I want to be close enough to shopping, close enough to the hospital, close enough to gas stations, and the sort of places I would go to - but if I had to do bigger or different types of shopping, I can always head east about 3 or 4 miles to Yukon. That's not a problem. I love that city too.  Both have homes with established trees and good sidewalks. They are just good places to live. 

    On AreaVibes, it rates a 67, and there are really low ratings for things like commute, amenities, schools, and employment but I don't need any of those. I work from home, don't go many places, and have no kids in school. The hospital isn't as big as the ones in the city, but if I have an emergency room, I'm good. If I need to be transported, I will be. It's a good place, and I'm genuinely looking forward to the move.

    Tammie and I ate at Sid's Cafe, an onion burger place. The thing is, all of the onion burgers in the world can thank Ross Davis of El Reno, Oklahoma, for their start. He created the first one, and that town has sold a few! There are 4 cafes of that style, the old-fashioned 50's vibe style diner, within a 1/2 mile. All of them rate right up there with other good nostalgic places, and for the price, unbeatable. We paid $21 for two of us, and we got big, fat burgers and a basket of onion rings for the money. Awesome!

    We drove around, looked at houses, looked at people, and looked at neighborhoods. We found the drug stores, the tack stores, the gas stations, and the grocery stores. I'll still have my food delivered by Kroger, but if I do need milk or something to tide me over, I can always hit up Braum's. You know, there are two, maybe even three, Braum's in any small town; Sonic, too. I counted three Dollar Generals, so that's good - I can do some damage there too. 

    Well, that's it - Google the history of El Reno to find out more. It's a Railroad Town. That should tell you all you need to know, but it's also an amazing hub of Native American culture, West-meets-Southern culture, and it's an overall gutsy, edgy town that isn't soft and isn't playful. It's where real Americans live and where they love their homes and their neighbors. El Reno is a good, solid piece of American pie. It will be the center of attention in my next Nick Posh book. I will start writing it in January 2026 - "Amicus Curiae" (Friend of the Court)

Photo Credit:  Wikipedia.com

Book Plans.

     I think it's a good thing to have a plan. My plans usually have plans, and that's why I'm a little taken aback by my own decision to make a new plan regarding my books without consulting myself first. I've decided to write five Posh books in 2026 and forego all other genres. Yep, that's the plan. I know, I know, it's difficult to wrap your head around, but that's exactly what I'm doing.

    Detective Nick Posh has been inside my head about as long as Craig Allen Mackenzie has been - who? You don't know Craig? Well, that's OK, until about two years ago, I just called the man in my head "Naked Bearded Man" because that's who and what he was. I was "married" to him, but I didn't think there was a reason to name him -- until I realized that when we talked (I'm laughing), I wasn't calling him by a name, just not. I wasn't, I was just talking to him. He would talk to me, but if you know Craig, or anything about him, you would know that he's from the 12th Century and he only speaks Scots Gaelic. 

    So, yeah, Nick Posh has been in my head for about 35 years, but I haven't defined him or needed to give him a voice until about three years ago, when I decided to start writing books. I had stories, I had thoughts, I had plans, but I never put them into form until about two years ago, when I did. I wrote "Murder Book", which introduces Nick Posh to the world. He's from the early ages - born November 19, 1890, in Oklahoma Territory (like my Grandpa), and he's of mixed heritage.  Nick's dad, Donald Posh Junior, was a full Scot, and his mother, Ama White Deer, is a Native American, Cherokee.

    Nick is an American detective, but he's also a war hero and a former police officer, making him a truly interesting man. I've written six "Posh" books so far, and I have about 13 or 14 more in my head - so my plan is to get five more written in 2026 - rather than spending any of my writing time writing dramas or romances. I'm just going to focus on some of the Posh books. I'm going to write five Posh books in 2026. That's the unofficial and unplanned plan. 

    "Murder Book" takes place in 1929, and the subsequent books tend to span a few months of the following years. The book "Cask", which I will finish over the weekend, is the 6th Posh novel, and it takes place in January-March 1934.  The next novel with Nick will be "Shadow," which starts in April 1934 and spans through June or July of that year. I won't start "Shadow" until January 2026 - and by December 2026, I should have "Shadow", "Kingdom", Death Mask", "Amicus Curiae", and "Stollen" written -- that's a good plan.

    I won't tell you what they're about at this point, as I'm writing two books before I write "Shadow". I'll use July to correct all of my existing books - re-uploading the corrected versions so that the finished products will have fewer errors. Then, in August, I'll write "Silent Bay," a very modern, creepy, and even horrific murder story that isn't a mystery; it's a tragedy. After that, I'll write "Legacy", a 12th-century story about a man who finds himself facing several truths and half-truths about who he may or may not be. He'll need a friend, and that's where Craig Allen MacKenzie can shine - I'll bring him into the book to guide and befriend the hero.

    So, that's the plan -- now, if Jesus decides I need to go home, or He decides we all go home, that's another thing altogether. I would never argue if that was the case -- Maranatha! Let it be so, but if we have to stay on this earth, I have plans to write. I hope there will be folks interested in reading what I write, but that's not my primary goal. I write to write. It's been a thing inside of me since I was... well, very very small. (Mom can attest. I used to tell her whoppers, and she'd ask me where or how I came up with that one!  I'd look over at the dog, his name was Rover. I looked my mom in the eyes and told her Rover told me.  There you go!

Each of these books has notes from two different Posh books. One of the books only has one book's worth of notes, but they are my notebooks for the series.  Photo Credit: Me

I Bought a Big Fat Chair

     When Laura and I moved to the new house, we had really crappy living room furniture -- okay, we had really crappy furniture all around the house, but we did something about the living room furniture; we threw it out.  Not only did we throw it out, we were really good people and waited until the trash guy was just about to pick it up, and we had the guys who were helping us move, to put all the pieces inside the big dumpster so that they would be picked up -- it didn't work out exactly as we had planned, but we tried.    When the dumpster guy dumped the dumpster, the big fat chair we threw out went over the garage truck and sat on top of the guy's truck for quite a while until he was able to knock it down and then he put it back into the dumpster to be picked up the next time -- at least we didn't do it.  No one can blame us! We did laugh through. It was pretty funny to see. The garage man said if that was the worst thing to happen to him all day he'd be happy. Which begs the question, what happens to that man during the day?    Anyway, we moved, and immediately we went to Big Lots and bought a really nice couch. I bought a big ottoman too, but that ended up being the pooch-pad -- and the cat pad. It's not used by anyone remotely human; we're not allowed.  It does serve a good purpose.  It is what it needs to be. The thing we don't have is a good big fat chair. We have a nice beautiful couch, and a sort of acceptable accent chair -- not a big fat beautiful chair. That needed to change.    Because I'm an idiot, I did buy what I thought was going to turn out to be a big fat chair, but it wasn't. I didn't pay enough attention to it when I bought it - it was a narrow, lightweight item. If you sat in it too fast, it scooted across the hardwood floor - you could actually get hurt if you tripped over a dog and it did that.  Not a good look.  Eventually, because I never sat in it, it too became the domain for the fur-faces in my life. I bought a cover for it, but again, I didn't pay much attention to the size - it was for a big, fat, beautiful chair -- I tossed them all out! Bye!!    This morning, just before getting up and going to the doctor's office -- to waste the good hours of the morning -- I decided to buy a chair on Amazon. This time, because I have been so lax in the past, I looked at all the measurements. I even took my handy-dandy tape measure and measured out exactly how big and fat it was -- it should be fine.  I didn't buy the cheap one. I want a good one.   This one has a heater and a massage roller as well. Yea. I may end up getting a cover, but I hope I don't have to. Frodo is the only one I worry about. He can end up clawless soon -- he really can. I'm not above making that happen. (Bilbo found out )
    
    The chair will be posted so you can admire it as well. I found it on Amazon because the same dang chair at the furniture store was about $70 more expensive, and they wanted $149 to deliver it -- in a box!  Yeah, that's not going to work for me. If it was assembled, I would consider a delivery fee -- $49 maybe, but $149 to deliver a box? No.  Amazon it is. Laura can put it together when she's feeling better. The cats will enjoy the box for a while. (They can't get in it, but they will get on it.)

    Yea! A new chair. Ginger will be happy. She and I would sit in the chair doing nothing more than just loving each other, and then I'd write in my journal, and she'd sit next to me. She's not a fan of the couch, and I don't know why -- I think the chair made her feel cozy. We'll see how it turns out for both of us. It arrives Wednesday, but I bet I won't sit in it until maybe Sunday. It's OK. I'm not in much of a rush.


Photo Credit: Amazon.com    

A Waste of My Time and Effort (I'll Be OK)

     I will try to be polite in this exchange, but I'm not sure if that will be possible. I was just a little too upset to be anything but upset. I didn't lose my cool, though; nope, I just walked away. I do that more now than I did before; there's never been a good result when I didn't. I just walk away - and if they can't figure it out -- that's on them. 

    I had a doctor's appointment today with a GP whom I have seen previously. The big health care provider that I am signed up with preferred that I stay with the GP of record rather than starting up with someone new, only, they told me AFTER I called to schedule an appointment with her, that since I hadn't seen her in over 3 years, I'd be starting over. So why can't I find someone closer to my house? Why would I need to see her? I really should have insisted - that's on me.

    I called for an appointment in January - this is June. This is June 23, and it's the soonest they could get me scheduled to see her. Really? Are there that many people seeing the doctors that not only do I have to drive an extra 23 miles to see her only to be referred to someone closer, now I have to wait six months to have her check me out -- I have an issue that needs to be seen, but no, I have to wait -- good thing it's not cancer or something that causes me pain! Sure thing, I can remain in slight discomfort for another six months! No problem.

    I took off work today, which, as it turns out, I would have had to take off anyway. My daughter is recuperating from surgery, so yeah, I just happened to be off for the doctor, but nevertheless, I originally took off to see the doctor. I wake up, shower, shave, and put on all new, fresh, clean clothes, right? I also go the extra mile, and I roll off any extra dog or cat hair because you know, I'm nice like that. I drive the 23 miles to this doctor's new office, not one block from my house, but 23 miles away. The same large health complex is just one block from my house, with over 300 other doctors inside its walls.

    I arrive early. If you know me, I'm early. I'm never late. So, I get there, check in, realize I forgot my phone - but I'll survive that. I was born in a time when people didn't carry them. I was also born in a time when loud, obnoxious morning television shows weren't blaring in the waiting room without a way to turn them off. If I had seen a plug, I would have pulled it.  At 9:15, I was the only patient in the building, I think - my appointment was for 9:45, but I'm always early. Good thing too, because since NO ONE was in front of me, that means the doctor can see me sooner -- NOPE!

    The nurse came to get me so she could do all the prep work. She weighed me, took my blood pressure (122/80 mmHg) and my temperature (98.6°F), and asked me a few questions. She was really interested in my mental state; she asked me at least three different ways if I was depressed or anxious. No...just trying to get out of here so I can get on with my day -- I didn't say that, but I wanted to.  I've never been a depressed person; maybe pissed, but never really depressed. Low self-esteem is not one of my problems.

    After ensuring she understood my reasoning for coming in, the nurse informed me that the doctor couldn't help me. She wasn't an OB-GYN, and since all my other signs were good, the only other issue I had seemed chiropractic in nature; she wasn't wrong. The doctor could only "look" at my issue, not do anything about it - - so why did I have to wait six months again? Oh, I remember, because it had been more than 3 years since I saw her last! (DUMB reasoning)

    The nurse left, and she opened a door that led into where the doctor hangs out with the staff -- I could see the doctor. She'd gained a significant amount of weight since I last saw her. If I'm already overweight, which I am, and she's larger than me, (so is her nurse, and for that matter the two women I saw in the hang up room, as well as the one checking me in - all overweight -- not just a little) why am I listening to her about my health? She wasn't going to be able to do anything even if she did have a look-see "up there," so why would I let her look? Nope -- not today!

    I smiled when I saw her, and she smiled back. The other ladies in the hangout room smiled as well.  The door closed behind the nurse, and I waited for the doctor to come in to do whatever exam it was that she was going to do, but the whole time I was thinking this is such a waste of time. She can't do anything. I waited...and then I waited...I waited another few minutes, and decided that since I was KNOWINGLY the only patient in the clinic - and I was, why would it take the doctor 22 minutes to get into the exam room after the nurse had finished?

    There was ZERO reason for me to stay -- so I left. I stood up, walked out the door, and made it to the checkout area where I was just about to tell the lady that Dr. B can just go ahead and recommend an OB doctor -- I didn't have time to wait on her to finish her breakfast or whatever it was she was doing. Yeah, my appointment wasn't until 9:45, but if there is NO ONE in the office and I've been prepped, you can waddle into the office to tell me you can't help me -- or, I can do what I did...walk.

    The nurse caught me at the door, wanting to know if everything was OK. I told her it was apparently because if I had an emergency, I would have been in the hospital. I also told her that the doctor isn't the only professional, and that I didn't appreciate being left in the room waiting when I could see she had no other patients - I would NEVER have scheduled with her if I knew she couldn't do anything for me, and I told her if the doctor didn't get around to recommending an OB I could very well look one up myself  -- I am, after all, the person paying the bill. Yes, I was polite, but I did let her know I was not going to fall at her feet as perhaps some do.

    I'd blast her name, but that won't do any good. She's not going to lose 70 pounds or change her behavior if I do. It would only spread shade on me for being rude -- I can rein that in. I just think that a doctor should be healthy - is that too much to ask? If I had seen her smoking, I would have really been upset, but I know a lot of doctors do.  I drove the 23 miles home thinking, at least I put 46 miles on my car, which is more than I usually go in a month!  Progressive Insurance has been nagging me about it, saying I don't drive enough to warrant the discount for safe driving -- excuse me? If I'm not driving 40 miles a month, I'm pretty sure that's pretty safe driving!

    Anyway - that's my rant - my right to it as well.  I will schedule another appointment with an OB, and if I have to wait another 6 months, I'll be OK. I haven't had that area checked in something close to 35 years, so I guess if it hasn't been a bother, it hasn't been a bother — don't fix it if it ain't broken, right? Well, I'm not getting any younger, so I'll have it all checked thoroughly one more time - go another 35 years if I need to. I could go another 35 years without standing on a damn scale, that's for sure. Now,  I have to self-diet -- and I will. Sigh!

    

Photo Credit: Pinterest.com 

Laura's Home!! YEA!! (That was exhausting)

     If you know me, you know I'm sort of a helicopter mom when the kids go down and need medical attention; it's almost as if they become toddlers again, and it's up to me to protect them and make sure the doctors and nurses take them seriously when they say they need help. It's 100% unnecessary, I know -- I do know. Please, don't tell me how horrible I am; I can only imagine. However, I will say that I was told today by two different nurses that I wasn't nearly as bad as some other moms! That made me feel better - I guess.

    Laura came into my office in the mid-afternoon yesterday, probably around 1:30, and she told me she needed to go to the E.R. Okay, we went. I dropped her off because I had food coming from Kroger, and I had a bed being delivered from Sam's, so I just dropped her off and went back home to make sure nothing was stolen - not such a helicopter mom at that moment; more like a drop-you-off-see-ya-later kind of mom. Not my finest hour, but this blog is about Laura, not me.

    She did such a GREAT job - she overcame so many hurdles that have stopped her for so very long. She was confident, yet nervous, but steadily improving at being both independent and standing up for what she believed she needed. She was able to do all the talking, answered all the questions, and then, when they told her they were going to take out her gallbladder, she didn't really flinch. She sighed, thought it through, and knew it was the best thing for her health.

    After that moment, and before they took her to the room where she would spend the night, she conducted extensive research. She watched YouTube videos on gallbladder functions, their purpose, the reasons they may need to be removed, and she also read about the surgeries. We both learned a great deal. She was really into looking through the sites and figuring out what she needed to do for herself afterwards. We're both hoping it will cure most of her gut and digestive issues!

    Today, around 7:10, I got up, got ready, went to the hospital, and waited for her to be prepped for surgery. When they took her down for the surgery, she was wheeled out of her room in a bed, not a chair - that was different. They took her down into the tombs where they do surgeries, and they told her what to expect. She did the countdown, and boom...she was gone! The surgery took 48 minutes, and after about another hour, she was brought back to the room where she had rested before. 

    The surgery was at 9:10, and she was back in the room by 9:50. She was back in the room around 11:30, and I left her at 11:50 to pick up her prescription from CVS, let the dogs out, and receive my new bed - it was able to be pushed back, thankfully.  Just as they delivered it, she was told she needed meds and needed to rest another 2 or 3 hours so the doctors could see if the meds were working. She complied, and when I arrived back, she had her food and had been up a couple of times to use the bathroom. Way to go, Laura!

    She was released around 2:45 p.m. and home by 2:50 -- yes, we live that close to the hospital. We even passed another hospital before arriving at the one she prefers to go to. When I brought her home, her dogs were overjoyed to see her - they had truly missed her while she was away, even though it was only for about 25 hours. Gone is gone in their minds. She was given a really big tail-wagging welcome. The cats had barely noticed but seemed to accept her presence. 

    Right now, at 4:30 p.m., she's resting, I'm finally resting, the dogs are resting. You just don't rest well when your kids are in the hospital or not feeling well. It's hard to get the mind and heart settled if they're not in the right place and all their functions are working as they should. She's been examining her little tiny incisions with amazement; it's awesome what they can do these days. 

    Her doctor was a tall, athletic woman about Laura's age. She and her husband are both general surgeons, performing at least one gallbladder surgery a day each. Laura was just a number, but they treated her so very well. Integris deserves a huge thank you and a giant 5-star review. Every nurse, every P.A., every doctor, every worker was just fantastic. It wasn't the "Big Baptist" hospital, but what we call "Deaconess" (the old Deaconess Hospital that was acquired by Integris two years ago — it still remains Deaconess in our minds).

    GREAT people, and very good service. We highly recommend. Thank you, EVERYONE, who prayed and cared for her. We appreciate that for sure. 

Photo Credit: Integris.com 

Laura's Surgery Tomorrow! (It's OK she told me I could blog about it)

 What you never want to do around Laura is make a plan. You just live your life, breathing, inhaling, exhaling, thinking to yourself, "I wonder if I can make a plan today" but as soon as you do, she challenges your thought process and does something outlandish like becoming anxious or dehydrated, or both. When she's walking through my office door asking if I'm on the phone or watching a YouTube video because she thinks she may need to go to the Emergency Room, I am so very glad I didn't actually make any real plans! 

    Yep, it's true. She did it again, only this time, I was so very prepared! Last night, my friend Jeannie came over and we watched a Bee Gees special. When the narrator got around to discussing how Maurice (pronounced "Morris") died, I told Jeannie that I think maybe Laura should be checked for gut issues, since she has been battling a lot of gastrointestinal problems lately. Over the past two or three years, anyway.

    Well, low and behold, who should walk into my room today saying she thinks she needs to go to the emergency room, but my daughter -- who, I said, "OK, but I'm asking them to check your gut for a twisted bowel or something because this has gone on for too long." She didn't argue with me, and that's what we did. She went in and got hooked up to the standard IV that they use when they see her coming - and then she asked them to do a test on her gut -- they did!!

    They gave her a CT (cat) scan - her very first ever. She has zero cats in her gut, but she did have an issue with her gallbladder. They ordered an ultrasound, and when the technician came to perform it, she allowed me to look at the monitor. I took photos, and we discussed them at length. I really learned a great deal! I had NO clue how the gallbladder can affect literally everything going on with a person's stress, anxiety, digestion, gastromedical stuff, and it's just too involved for too many reasons! You should read up on those things -- they are simply amazing.

    Well, turns out, the woman has to have hers removed, and she's going to do that first thing in the morning, because it was just about suppertime and the doctors were already released unless there is an emergency. She's OK, she can do it tomorrow. She could have waited until next week, but they advised her that it was best to do it now, since it wasn't inflamed, but was on the cusp. She was in discomfort, not pain. She had gone in with dehydration, and her two nurses, a P.A. and a doctor, told her the same thing(s) basically - they all think that after the gallbladder is removed, MOST if not all of her health issues related to dehydration and cramping should go away! WOW! That is really really good news for Laura.

    When I had my gallbladder issue I thought I was having a freaking heart attack! It was ONE big fat stone that blocked everything. They couldn't get it, and they ended up cutting my belly open (7-9" ) and dragging the organ out. That won't happen to Laura. She'll have the simple three-point surgery that 99.9999% of the people have. Did you know that 700,000 of these surgeries are performed in America every year? That's a lot!! It's 900,000 in Europe and 56,000 in the UK. We checked.

   She's a little scared, of course; she hasn't had a real surgery. She's had tooth surgery, but not body surgery. She's up for it, and she's nervous, but in a good way. She has two male nurses tonight who both watch anime, so she's got good company with her. I left her at 7:30 p.m., and she's going to bed at 10, after she and the nurses review over 1,000 fun facts about things I know nothing about. I'm so happy she'll be healed soon. This has been a real pain and a real problem for just too long. It's like chasing vapor or smoke, you can't ever grab it! 

    The E.R. nurse, also a man, told her she could eat well until midnight, then she was to stop eating and drinking water. I went to Chick-fil-A and got her a #1 with a Sprite. As soon as she ate it, the hospital nurse on her floor brought her a bowl of broth, telling her she could only drink broth until midnight. OOPS! But it was okay, the doctor waived it, saying she would be fine. They're more concerned when surgery is scheduled within 6 hours of the last time you ate.  She was literally eating her last bite when that happened. I had to laugh.

    There is ONE funny thing about this - on her chart, or in her history, it says I am or have been abusive to her verbally. I guess someone didn't realize how she and I talk, get along, and act with each other. She laughed. They asked her if she felt safe around me, but I wasn't in the room when they asked. She said she laughed and then realized they were being serious.  I think she told them she was fine, but I would have milked that for a while, I think.

     Well, I'll blog again after she's had the surgery, comes home, and is resting. She'd love your prayers, and if you read this years later, she'd still appreciate your prayers. I know I do.  She's texting me constantly now about what this or that nurse thought. I bet she'll end up being their favorite patient, and she'll end up with two new buddies!  Woo!! 

Not Laura's gallbladder - Photo Credit: VeryWellHealth.com

Bob is ALIVE!!

 I know you were just as worried as we were - Bob was not coming out of that hide, and to be honest with you, I truly believed he'd crawled up into it and was dead - couldn't get out, starved and died. I expected to start smelling him, but that never happened. Then, one day, about three days after he climbed into an impossibly tight spot inside a resin hide, Laura found a piece of fresh poop in his enclosure!!  That was a sign of life!!

    You can't know how excited we got when we saw the poop. Yes, it's true; we did the dance right there! Thankful that he was alive, she put more crickets into his enclosure, hoping he'd hear them and come out. He decided to wait until night time to do so, but in the morning, there were no crickets, and yes, another poop! Woo! The dance was done once more.

    About  3:00 p.m. for no reason whatsoever, Bob decided to exit his hide - ha! Got him! Once he popped his head and shoulder out of it, Laura slowly opened the enclosure lid, drawing it back so she could reach into the tank. She held the hide at a tilt so he couldn't crawl back up it. Shaking the hide a little and gently pulling him behind his arms, she dragged his little Leopard gecko body out, and we threw away that particular hide.  NO MORE DANGEROUS SCARY HIDES for us.

    Bob is in a 20-gallon tank with two open and airy dark hides, long vines to climb on, a nice basking rock, and a big round drinking bowl he can sit on and drink if he wants to. His hide is covered in foliage; he also has Spanish moss to hide in. The gecko should really be happy as a clam —if that's possible. He should be thankful and grateful that he has two women who love him to bits and want him to be as comfortable and spoiled as a gecko can possibly be in captivity.

    I have four lizards: a gecko, a Beardie, a Schneider's skink, and a Blue-Tongue skink. The larger lizards are safely hidden when they want to be, but they come out to bask and stare at me. Aodhan, the Bearded Dragon, is my coworker. She'll come out the entire day and stare at me, tilting her head, thinking I'm the strangest of all creatures she's ever seen. She hasn't let me pick her up yet, but we have long conversations, and I do pet her a lot.

    Avalon, the Schneider skink, will come out once or twice a day, and sit on my head or do the human treadmill routine as I hold her, switching hands as she runs. She enjoys that. Cion, the Blue-Tongued skink, wishes me dead, but I don't allow her desires to upset me in the least. I tell her every day how pretty she is, and I pet her tail when she's hiding, constantly hissing at me. When I leave, she wonders where I went. Strange thing.

    Bob...the gecko, is so aloof right now. He was either abused at his first home, or maybe he never had a home, and just doesn't realize how people act -- he's in the learning phase. He doesn't understand that we talk to lizards, cats, dogs, walls, chairs, anything really -- we talk. He's not a fan of the sunlight, that's for sure, so after dark, I come in and talk with him just before going to bed -- maybe some day he'll figure out that we're only here to love him. He's about 4 months old now, but when he gets older, he'll be more comfortable - hopefully.

This is what he will look like as an adult. Photo Credit: UrbanZoo.com 

Bob - Maybe Not.

 So, a week ago, I wrote to express my excitement about having another Leopard gecko. He's ordinary in color, with nothing particularly fancy, but he was adopted because he was injured and couldn't be sold. We brought him home and gave him a really nice tank to live in, complete with a few hides, branches, and rocks to climb on. For a lizard, he really should have been happy -- we don't know.

    We don't know because we can't find him. We never, and I mean never, leave enclosures open, so unless he's Houdini reincarnated (which I doubt), we have no idea what's going on in our lizard world.  Bob is gone.  He's not in the enclosure. We took a little cat scooper and sifted through the substrate to be sure, and he's not there. He's not under the water dish, he's not up under anything-unless, and this would be really weird-unless he's inside UP INSIDE this hide that has a little base that has a small hole.

    We can't stick tongs in it, it's that small of a hole, and he's actually bigger than that hole -- so if he's in there, it would be some kind of crazy.  We can't break it open, it's resin. We can't melt it, he'd be hurt. We have put crickets in the enclosure and have turned the resin hide on its side. Maybe he'll try to eat the cricket? We've turned off his light and covered up the tank to make him think it's night time -- Bob is just not there.

    We called the PetSmart we got him from to ask if there's anything else we can do. You can't vibrate him out with a vibration plate; it could hurt him. We haven't tried smoking him out yet - but I don't smoke and I don't vape, so where would I get smoke? I may have to find someone. The reptile experts agreed that what we're doing is all we can do, and you can bet that once we know he's not in that hide, we will dispose of it.  If he has passed, I'll be sad.

    I wanted the reptile expert at PetSmart to know that we didn't do it on purpose; in fact, the little hide was purchased there, and it stated it was safe for geckos — apparently, it may not be.  We are praying and hoping Bob is OK. He's a good boy. I think the only reason I'm blogging about it is to let people know it can happen, and it can't always be avoided. We do our best, but some things are out of our control -- we would never have put him in harm's way intentionally - I'm OK praying for him because I know God is great. He cares about lizards, too.

    If he doesn't come out from the hide, there is literally NO place else he could be. Other animals can't get to him; the enclosures have safety catches on the doors and tops. It's the strangest, weirdest, and most unique thing to ever happen to us as far as lizards are concerned, and we've had a lot of lizards. I read where they can go off to die if they feel that they are weak or sickly. I wonder if he was like that before we got him, and he just found a good place to say goodbye. 

    Well, I will pray for him - and I know it may sound silly to some, but I KNOW he will be in Heaven if he goes away for good. It would be foolish of someone to try to tell me otherwise. 

A New Bob. (Leopard Gecko)

     So, if you know me, you know that from time to time, my daughter Laura, who is my roommate, will be called by a certain pet store when they have a lizard they can't sell because it has an issue that keeps it from being sold. I'll give you an example; they called a few weeks back because a bearded dragon was in a fight with another one and lost part of its tail. She was called. We took the lizard.  Then, they called again, saying they had a gecko, a crested gecko - sadly, he had a terrible issue and only lasted a few weeks. He, too, however, was taken by Laura.

    I love lizards too, and currently have three, but I'm about to sell my blue-tongued skink because, like some of the others, she isn't very friendly. I want all of my pets, including lizards, dogs, cats, and horses, to be pleasant. I want to interact with them, and if I can't, I will find them good new homes.  I always go that extra mile to be sure they are given to good good homes.

    I had a Leopard Gecko named Bob about 2 years ago, and try as I could, the guy didn't like me. He got along with Laura, but he just didn't like me -- he found a good home. Laura laughed at me because my lizard preferred her - well, there you go, now she's finding out that her dogs would rather sleep in my really cool bed than with her! Ha! Back at ya!! (Except, it is really hard to sleep with 4 dogs, I'm not gonna lie.)

    Yesterday, Laura received the call again -- the pet store had called her and said, 'Okay, we have another Leopard Gecko, and he's yours if you want him.' He's a boy, you can tell, because he has a really fat head and tail to match. Apparently, he's been aggressive toward others in the tank, but you can't keep them with others -- and he's older. Well, she wasn't all that interested, but I decided to take him. He's not been aggressive with me -- not yet. He's been rather chill, actually - and guess what, they have another Beardie for Laura in two weeks after he heals from a bit of tail surgery today. He had tail-rot and yeah, that's not good - so he had surgery to remove that part and he'll heal up and go into permanent rehab with Laura and her...growing family of reptiles.

    I suppose I have four now, but the Blue Tongue will be living elsewhere soon, probably. If not, I'll keep her, but I really like holding them and talking to them, and she's just not into that. She's not into Laura either, so it may be that she goes away and we keep her enclosure for the next thing to come along because there will always be another - they happen. We don't mind fostering, and we don't mind rehabbing. I prefer to keep them, but even I know when to call it quits and find a good home for something that will be less stressed or at peace. 

    I'm not going to say that the dogs, cats, and our activities could be stressful, but having a huge fuzzy face staring at you all day could be nerve-wracking, depending on your idea of stress...and one skink may find the dogs interesting while the others find them frightening. The dogs seem to get a kick out of watching them!  

    The new guy was named Bob after the old one. I just like the name. It's a good Leopard Gecko name...Bob. I mean, it's for Robert the Bruce, but still, it's just Bob. Long live the king!

Bob
 

I Hate Tornadoes.

     If you live anywhere near where I live, which is central Oklahoma, you'll find yourself ducking and dodging those twirling, twisting tornadoes every year about this time. We have had several good scares this year, but thankfully, and I mean THANKFULLY, they have not been devastating. We are so very blessed.  I know it's God's choice to bring His power, and I am just so thankful that He has chosen to keep them in the air most of the time.

    Today, just about an hour ago, I was off work and had just finished my after-work workout - a quick 15-to 20-minute session on the treadmill - when the sirens went off. The phones notified us about 15 seconds before the sirens, and we were still able to take our time to turn on Channel 9 to see what David Payne and his crew were doing.  They've got this down to a science - so slick. 

    They have little charts, graphics, you name it, and by the time we're in the 4th grade here in Oklahoma, we know exactly what a mesocyclone is.  We're over here reading the colored patterns on the television as if we're trained and ready to jump in our trucks to chase something -- then again, most of us don't do that, only the really crazy people do.  Most of us sit in our dens with our bike helmets in hand, the closet doors open, and we have one shoe on and the other waiting for Payne to say the thing is right over our heads.

    Then, when we do finally get inside the tightest closet in our house, secured with clothes, blankets, and nothing that can harm us, we turn on our solar-powered radios to 96 FM and listen to David Payne (live, of course) so we know what to expect. There are times when the lights go out, and the radio is all we have - no colored pixeled patterns to stare at, we just have to pretend we see them. When he says the thing is tightening and gaining momentum, we start talking to God about His choices and ask Him really nicely to keep that thing in the air!

    We start thinking about those we love, and what they're doing; whether or not they're home and safe. We text them all of course, warning them that there's activity. They text back and say they're watching too; most watch Channel 9, but there are some that watch others too -- hopefully, we're all getting the same information.  The tornadoes we had today, plural, were all in a straight fixed line from the top of Texas all the way through to Kansas, and they went all the way from the western borders of Oklahoma to the eastern borders before they were finished. Sometimes the funnels came down, but for the most part they remained up in the clouds.

    The one that was half a mile from my son's family was big and fat, lowering, and really threatening. I'll post a pic from the news...just too scary.  I am too thankful, so overly grateful to have trusted God to keep us safe and away from danger. This was Kiah's 2nd or 3rd trip to the closet. She's not a big fan. Ginger knows the drill - she's almost 13.  She's a natural at it. As soon as I start making the closet ready - she just puts herself into it. Gotta love a smart dog.

Photo Credit: I took it, but it was on News9 KWTV