Entry #47

Entry #47

Sunday, March 4

7:00 p.m. After getting some sort of Rip Van Winkle virus (i.e., overwhelming tiredness for no apparent reason), I got a zap of energy today while watching an Alvin Ailey performance in Houston's historic theater district. An incredibly generous woman I met in writing class asked me to accompany her and some friends to the event when her daughters weren't able to go. Yeehaw! The timing was perfect, too, since we go to Houston every Sunday for the kids' art classes.

I was in need of caffeine (still feeling kinda woozy), so David and I found an Italian café nearby, a refreshing change from Starbuck's. The café had an outdoor patio, which gave us the opportunity to relax and look around (we had about an hour to kill before the show began). Judging by the solid, stately architecture, this building looked like there was much more to it than a bunch of condos and a café.

Turns out this site was once the original Capital Building, when Houston was the capital of the Republic of Texas (1837–39). It was razed and later turned into the Rice Hotel, where President Kennedy stayed just before he was assassinated in Dallas. This historic hotel now serves as an apartment building, known as Rice Lofts. Some say spirits still dance on the roof (according to a Houston Chronicle report). Glad I hadn’t read about that while walking through the long, dark corridor to the bathroom.

The barrista was more than hospitable. After chatting for a few minutes, he said, "I want you to try something, just out of the oven." He brought us a piping hot crescent roll filled with melted dark chocolate. Yum. Then he asked us to try something else, a variation on a mimosa. Amazing, eh? While the café didn't accept tips, they did have a donation jar that gave the proceeds to charity. That was the least we could do...Plus, the coffee was great. Izzie was appreciative of the outdoor seating (and leftover crumbs).

Monday, March 5

Noon: I looked up and out of the corner of my eye noticed some movement in the backyard. Turns out the pool cleaning lady was here. The other day an older man made his way out back to check something around the pool, then stopped by again the following day—didn't even bother coming to the door; just let himself in via the gate. Lots of people seem to make themselves at home in our backyard without even letting us know they're coming, let alone already at the house. Good thing I don't swim buck naked in the pool.

3:00 p.m. Rather than have school this week, Noah and his class are participating in internships of their choosing. Noah’s working directly with the founder of the animal rescue nonprofit, Operation Pets Alive, and spent today hauling kitty litter, running dogs, doing temperament testing, and cleaning litter boxes. The life of a volunteer is not a glamourous one, but at least he’s helping animals, if only by making their living environments more tolerable.

When I went to pick up Noah at the Montgomery County Shelter (where Noah was helping with temperament testing), I walked down the corridor, and had to plug my nose. The smell of dog feces was overpowering. I went up to greet a dog that looked desperate for affection. He jumped up, wagged his tail furiously as if to say, “Lovemelovemelovemeloveme!!!!!” then peed all over my leg.

I finally found Noah outside, where the air was much fresher, and I could try not to think of all the sad, homeless animals locked in soiled cells. The shelter apparently houses 500 dogs and cats on any given day.

On the way home, Noah noticed that the dirty window of a truck had been finger painted with the messages “I l[heart] God and I [heart] Megan Fox.” Earlier today I passed a billboard that said “Donuts with Divas” at the Spirit-Filled Celebration Church.

Tuesday, March 6

9:30 a.m. Have you ever met an attack Cocker Spaniel? A vicious Bichon Frisée? I just did. In fact, every dog I passed on my walk with Izzie this morning was not a “dog’s dog.” The woman with the snarling Cocker Spaniel pulled her away, reasoning, “She’s just trying to protect me.” From what? We live in lily-white suburbia, where the crime rate is about the same as Mayberry, USA.

I talked to my mom about this and she reasoned that around here, or at least where there are a lot of ranches, dogs are used for work rather than treated as a part of the family. They’re protectors of livestock, guardians of the farm. I completely understand and honor that. However, this scenario does not apply to pampered dogs in suburban dwellings, especially those whose heads are shaped like fuzzy snow balls.

We’re off to Colorado tomorrow, so Izzie will have a week to romp among the pooches at the Texas Doghouse, all of whom are pre-screened for sociability (phew). Izzie's still confused about Teddy's whereabouts, looking around the house and outside for her missing playmate.

2:45 p.m. I haven’t gotten completely lost in awhile, but today I definitely drove in circles en route to dropping off Noah at his internship with OPA. Visual consistency can be very disorienting. I find that I almost have to play the “What’s different in this picture?” game (“Find five differences between these two places”) when I drive to a new area in The Woodlands, because so many places look virtually the same—tree-lined streets, brownish-stone shopping plazas, largish brick/beige houses...

On the way back, I drove beyond The Woodlands to FM 1488, a farm-to-market road to run some errands. While billboards aren't allowed in The Woodlands, they abound everywhere else, like giant magazine pages lined in a row. The first one I saw featured a tanned, bikini-clad woman with the message: “Don’t Hit A Furry Creature or Be One.” The name of a waxing salon was listed below. 


Just down the road, a church’s billboard read, “Looking for a Lifeguard? We have one who walks on water!” After that was a store that simply said “Meat Market” adjacent to a workout facility called Primal Athletic Performance. 

3:30 p.m. Seems Aidan had a rip roarin’ good time at the rodeo today. “So what did you see?” I asked. “We got to watch pig races and mutton busting,” he said. “I asked my teacher, ‘Is that where you get to watch kids fall off sheep?’ She said ‘Yes.’” Aidan mentioned that two of the pigs were named Justin Bieboar and Christina Hoguleira.

Aidan told me that he also saw a chick hatch. “Did you know that chickens take 17 hours to hatch? They’re not really that cute when they’re born,” he said. “I know. They’re kind of wet and sticky,” I replied. "The older ones are a lot cuter," he said. "Did you know that chickens are most closely related to T-Rexes?" he added. He was pretty pleased to share this piece o' trivia.

Seems the kids really saw quite a bit today, including a thorough milking demonstration. Aidan described how “milk gets splurted out in a tube thing” then separated, “decontaminated...then shipped, all within two hours!” From cow to cereal bowl in less than a day. That’s impressive.

4:30 p.m. Noah’s last internship day was today and we met him at the OPA founder’s house. Noah was busy walking an adorable puppy that looked like a chocolate lab mix with beautiful golden green eyes. There were some tiny Chihuahua puppies, each less than two pounds, two shnauzer-mix pups, and the fuzzy black puppy who's still sick. Hope he pulls through.

Noah said that while walking Tank today, he growled at, then peed on about ten garbage cans, but didn't spray a single recyling bin. Perhaps that’s his way of supporting the environment.

[OFF TO COLORADO...]